Author's Note: Hey fellow readers! Just a quick note, please listen to the song above while you read this chapter. The song will be used in the trailer that I will make when I'm halfway done with the story. I hope you like the song! It's Afraid to Love by Brutha.

Now on to the story!

* * *

Barry had spent the previous night thinking about the kiss, asking himself the same question over and over again. Why did Oliver kiss him and why did it affect him so much? It was messing with his head and he couldn't sleep because his brain wouldn't shut down enough for him to drift off. The kiss made him feel things he hadn't wanted to feel again, that he had locked away ever since he found that Iris was with someone else and the relationship with Patty hadn't worked out.

How was it, that a single kiss, could crack his barrier? The kiss being with Oliver no less, and one he hadn't even reciprocated. It was a very confusing matter and Barry couldn't help overanalyzing it. The truth was even though he didn't want to admit it, Barry had enjoyed the kiss, more than he should have. The problem wasn't the fact that Oliver had kissed him though, it was Barry.

Barry wasn't ready to feel the emotions that rose up during the kiss and after--longing, want, pleasure. The way Oliver had kissed him--with passion and gentleness--the way he had looked at him as he held his face, Barry saw love. It scared him and he had pushed him away. The fear of someone loving him like that, of himself loving anyone else that way sparked a deep fear inside of him and he had done the only thing he could. He ran.

He knew he had feelings for Oliver, had them for a while but he couldn't bring himself to admit that he cared for him more than a friend. And this meant that yes, Barry was in denial. However, could you really blame someone for being afraid to love after their heart was broken not once, but twice?

It was going to be hard for him to love again, period.

* * *

Barry buried himself in the load of casework that was piled on top of his desk, trying to get the visage of Oliver kissing him out of his head. It was proving to be less than difficult to purge the man from his mind by doing so. As hyperfocused as he was on his work, he was satisfied that it kept him distracted from thinking about Oliver at all. And working at a normal pace instead of using his speed to get it all done, only added to the sucess of it working as well.

By the time he was halfway through the pile, it was a little after twelve 'o' clock and he was surprised that his appetite wasn't through the roof. He wasn't hungry at all and just the thought of food turned him off of it so he just continued to work. Going through case file after case file of crime scene evidence and running tests on it to help the detectives who gave him the evidence, solve their cases. It was a pretty descent way to stay busy.

There was one case however, that caught his attention.

A woman had been assaulted in her own home, protecting her eleven year old son from a mysterious man who had broken into her house and tried to take him from his bed. When questioned by police she was able to give a description of the man to the sketch artist and it was delivered to CCPD.

Barry already ran the sketch through the database and got a hit. The man who assaulted the woman was Mikaiel Korxky (pronounced Me•ki•el), a registered child predator. Turns out that the MO matched that of a serial killer who has been going around taking kids from their homes in the middle of the night, drugging and sexually assaulting them before brutally killing them. Looking more into the case, Barry read that in the first murder, the killer left a message stating that it was a "mercy killing".

The serial killer also had a preference. Mainly boys, ages eleven to 16, with brown hair and brown or hazel eyes. The boys all lived with a single mother, the father either not in the picture or dead and the mother was a brunette/blonde and had hazel eyes. In one form or another the boys all had connections or close relationships with police officers or even law enforcement agencies. The more Barry read, the more he was sure that Mikaiel Korxky was the serial killer.

And it was just his luck that Joe and Eddie were the ones working the case so he could easily tell them his theory. Grabbing the printed papers and a folder, he rushed out of his lab and downstairs to Joe's desk. The man looked up from what he was writing and shot him a smile.

"Hey Bar, what's up?"

"Hey Joe. I got the identity of the man who tried to kidnap that kid the other night." Barry placed the folder on the desk in front of the detective and pointed at the picture. "Mikaiel Korxky. He's a registered child predator. I've gone over all the evidence and the deeper I looked, the more I saw the connection to the child murders happening in the area."

Joe picked up the folder and frowned, flipping through the papers. He looked up, his brows furrowed. "You think Korxky is the serial killer?"

Barry nodded. "I know he is. The MO is the same and Joe . . . I have a gut feeling that I'm right and he's going to strike again soon. Unless we stop him."

Joe glanced back down at the folder in his hands before standing up, a determined look on his face. "Well, if your gut is telling you this is our guy, then I don't have a choice but to follow it." Joe placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. "I trust your judgment, Barry. Always have."

Barry smiled wanly at Joe and watched him walk over to Eddie to tell him that they were leaving to go check out the adress under Korxky's name. When they were out of sight, Barry went back upstairs and he felt his stomach growl. As much as he wanted to keep working on the case, he wouldn't be of any help if he collapsed from not eating. Sighing, he grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and left the lab while he put it on. Knowing that it was the right thing to do, he stopped by Singh's office and knocked.

"Come in!"

Barry opened the door slightly, peeking his head in and said, "Hey, um, I'm going out for lunch but I'll be back in fifteen."

Singh gave him a single nod, glancing up briefly from his computer. "Be back in exactly fifteen, Allen. Good work by the way."

The smile that Barry gave the captain was quick and bright before he closed the door and left the precinct. Once outside, he was surprised by how cold it was to be the middle of the day. He hated the fall but loved it at the same time and he honestly didn't know how that was possible. He passed plenty of people on the sidewalk on his way to Pizza Universe, who had no idea that he was the Flash. Or that at any given moment, a metahuman could attack and a vigilante hero would come to their rescue.

Shoving his hands inside his jacket pockets, he continued the six minute walk to the pizza spot, unaware that he was being followed. His phone vibrated with a notification and he pulled it out of his pocket, looking at it. It was a text from Joe, saying that they had found further evidence of Korxky being the serial killer and that he wasn't there. And then his phone started to ring.

Answering he said, "Joe, I got your text. He wasn't there?"

"No, but Barry there's something else." Joe sounded hesitant and more so nervous and scared.

"What is it?" Barry asked worriedly as he bumped into a passerby and apologized silently. When he didn't recieve and answer right away, he prompted, "Joe?"

"Barry, Korxky has--"

Something moved on his left and he turned his head in time to see hands reaching out to grab him. Too slow to move out of the way without using his speed, Barry was pulled into an alley and shoved against the brick wall hard enough that his head slammed back into it. He had dropped his phone when he'd been shoved and he stared at the man in front of him. Except he couldn't see his face, because he was wearing a mask.

"What the hell?!" Barry exclaimed and ducked as the assailant swung at him. He lashed out with his right hand and jabbed the attacker in the side, hoping to stun him long enough to escape. Instead, the man just recovered quickly and grabbed him by the back of his hair, dragging him further down the alley. Barry shouted in pain and planted his feet in the ground, determined to throw the assailant off-balance. It worked. As soon as he was, Barry flipped himself around freeing himself from the grasp and kicked the man in the chest. The force of it sent him flying back and he turned, sprinting down the alley toward the busy streets. He almost made it.

Somehow the man caught up to him and football tackled him to the cobblestone alley ground. The speedster hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him as the assailant straddled him. Barry struggled underneath him, twisting and writhing trying to throw him off. When that didn't work, he freed his hand and punched the man in the face before shoving him to the side. Scrambling to his feet, Barry stumbled forward close enough to the street now that he could easily yell for help and be heard.

"Hey! Hey, somebody help!" Barry was waving his arms at passing cars but the people who heard him were those walking on the sidewalk. "He--"

Something in the air shifted behind him and he realized seconds too late that something was wrong and as he turned around, something collided with the base of his skull. Barry dropped like a stone, darkness devouring his very being.

* * *

There were too many witnesses around and there was no way that the assailant was going to get away clean. However, he didn't need to get away "clean" because by the time the police figured it out, there'd be no traces of Barry Allen left. The CSI would disappear with him and no one would find him or take him away.

Barry Allen was his.

A/N: Cliffhanger . . . 😨