A/N: Hey everyone, I know I haven't written anything in years. Got working on my real novel, and felt like nobody was waiting on updates for my others stories...and then got really depressed, like really really bad recently, which inspired me this really short bit last week. Enjoy!
Barry grunted in frustration as he punched the hard ground underneath him. What would it take for Jefferson to finally understand he was a menace that needed to be taken down, no matter the cost? Speaking of…
The silence had spread in the entire Hall. What was Jefferson planning?
Barry slowly turned his head around and scanned the room, only to find his friend, and adversary, laying still closely by, looking unconscious. Another rough sound escaped the speedster's mouth. He had just hurt another good man, again. What next?
His glance landed next on the broken glass sprayed on the ground and it struck him. Maybe there was a way to finally stop all of this insanity. He had to be stop. He had to stop hurting people. These thoughts kept on racing to his head and forcing his heartbeat to pick up even more the pace. Who would be the next victim of his actions? An innocent person in the street or his own friends and family? What if the next time, he was to actually kill someone, maybe even kill his own wife?
Without thinking, the scientist reached with shaky fingers to the sharpest piece of glass at arm's reach and brought it to his face, looking at his own reflection. His mind was slipping a little further away every second. He couldn't breathe. Nobody wanted him anymore. Tears were building in his eyes. He was better off gone. He was better off dead. Yes. Taking away his powers wasn't good enough.
Almost mechanically, he tugged on his sleeves, one by one, bringing them down just a tad and exposing his writs. Tears were freely falling from his eyes and cascading down his cheeks. He didn't want to die. He was scared to death. But, what were his others choices? He wasn't going to bring death and destruction. Never.
-I'm so sorry, Iris, he said, struggling to clear his vision.
Before giving himself more time to change his mind, Barry pressed down the broken glass from Oliver's memorial against his first wrist, barely feeling the cut. He wasn't worth living anymore, he couldn't feel a single thing. Blood didn't wait to start pouring, but it didn't stop the man to repeat his action.
Instead of pain, all he felt was relief. Everyone he knew and loved was going to be safe, and happy.
The man closed his eyes as he laid down. The last thing he heard was someone calling his name before everything went black.
A/N: Could maybe turned it into a short story if you're interested. Let me know your thoughts