The Return Of Bolt//Barry Allen(Book 2)

Opening Up

TW: Mentions of self-harm, suicide, anxiety and depression in this chapter, so if you are not comfortable with those topics, skip this chapter x.

I entered my apartment feeling this, new kind of rage. It felt like it was burning me up.

Yes, I get we are the good guys and we should help, but Snart?! He betrayed us, let all those metas free and screwed us over at a time when we didn't need any more fuck ups.

I can't believe the team wants to help, it doesn't make sense. Maybe I'm being dramatic, maybe this secondary coma has awakened something in me. All I know is no one, and I mean no one will convince me to help. I'll sit this one out.

A few hours later...

I was sat in front of my tv, with a ton of snacks, binge-watching all the tv I had missed over the 6 months. And it was A LOT.

I was at peace, my irritation towards the Snart family had died down, and I was enjoying my Lil break. That was until I got a knock on the door.

I rolled my eyes and reluctantly got up to answer it.

"Mr Allen, how lovely of you to grace me with your presence," I said, clearly sarcastically.

"Miss Smith, thank you for ditching me on this one," he said rolling his eyes and walking right through the door.

"I'm not helping them, Barry, you can't convince me to." I folded my arms, as I shut my apartment door.

"I get it, I do. I'm not here to lecture you to come back, you need a break trust me it's fine, I can handle it." He said, with a very tiny smile.

"Then why are you here?" I said as he sat his speedster butt on my couch, helping himself to my snacks.

"You are my girlfriend, and I can visit my girlfriend when I want, especially when I know she's upset. And a good boyfriend would ask why you blew up so much over it, I've never seen you that angry." he patted the couch to indicate I should sit down, so I did.

"I don't know. Since I've woken up I've felt...off. I keep getting headaches and it feels like my emotions are all over the place. I haven't felt so mentally drained in a year Barry. I know exactly what it is, I've dealt with it for years, but I thought it was gone, but it's not, it never is." my eyes started to well up, and Barry grabbed my hand.

"What is it, baby? You know you can tell me anything, I am your partner in more ways than one." he smiled so kindly, my eyes widened at the sweetness of his words. This was one of the things I hated telling people, mainly for fear of judgement.

"So after my parents died, and I was moved into the system, I suffered a lot mentally. The bullying definitely made it worse, but my mind on its own was just...it was hell inside my head essentially. I doubted myself at every change in my life, I hated myself for not helping my parents, and even more, I hated the fact that I didn't go with them." a tear fell down my cheek, and I could feel myself getting closer to a breakdown. "I suffered from anxiety and depression for all of my adolescence and didn't get help till I went to university. So up until I moved I tried everything to end my suffering, from locking myself in my room with my headphones loud to stop myself from hearing the voices to doing less savoury things.."

I went quiet, and even Barry didn't say anything, I couldn't decide if he was trying to put it all together, or if he was debating asking what those less savoury things are.

"What things Sam?" he sighed, gripping my hand. I knew at that moment is have to tell him. "Take as much time as you need, I want to know."

"I used to...umm...I used to use razor blades to cut myself. Usually in spots people couldn't see so I didn't have to explain. I did that for a few years until I got on antidepressants at uni. All I could think of all the time was that I didn't want to be here anymore, and that I would do anything to die. And then one day I did." I paused and took another deep breath. "I tried to overdose on paracetamol. Obviously, it didn't work. I just couldn't take the feeling of being so alone. With no one in the world who cared about me."