Primrose Path (A Harry Wells x Reader Insert)

Chapter 19

A/N: the first half of this chapter is quite sad for Flower and the second half is violent. For those of you who can't deal, the next chapter will also be sad, but chapter 21 will be looking up!

~

You sit there, paralyzed. Pins and needles strike your body, numb you, and there is no stopping your bottom lip from quivering. Your shoulders silently quake during your inaudible sobs. A whimper or two escape you as you cry to yourself when Harry leaves the room.

When he leaves you.

If anyone else is present in the room, if anyone can strain their ears enough, then they could hear your heart shatter to smithereens - completely breaking because the man you love doesn't think you're worth it to pursue anymore. Or to try to make what special connection you two have work despite your horribly stupid mistake.

Memory after memory floods your mind, tear after tear flows to stain your cheeks from breaking down. It's an ugly and sullen picture. You find yourself crying hysterically only after having collected yourself from your shock until it reverts to silent sobs.

Pathetic.

All those precious moments together, day by day. Minute by minute. You love him. You love Harrison Wells, but this... is this really reality? Or is it a bad dream that you'll wake up from any second? That you'll wake up in Harry's strong arms with the pesky sunlight leaking from the cracks of the blinds.

There's a special place in your heart just for him and it feels like it's been ripped out of your chest, thrown out and trampled on. It doesn't help that that special place took up two-thirds of your destroyed organ.

Your fault.

You had opened yourself up to Harry to the point where he could read you like an open book - the one man to whom you gave your heart, your body, your love. The same man to whom you knowingly spilled all your secrets and complicated past that you want to bury yourself in a grave. You chose to stay by his side even when you found out about his mafia reign, the people he's hurt, and Jesse. You accepted the darkness that hides behind that deceptive, intellectual smile and the danger that follows his every footstep. Every benevolent idea and ominous deed that makes up the man named Harrison Wells - only to have it all crushed from one simple mistake; from making one bad move you thought would be helpful to him and his team.

Useless.

Dark thoughts swirl around in your head as a nurse comes in later that night – well at dawn – to check your vitals. Your hands lay limp in your lap, fingertips curling and uncurling as your wrecked form adorns a tear-stained mask. His dog tags that hang around your neck suddenly feel heavy as lead. An internal conflict wages war to ruin your already weak mental state.

You're just not good enough for him. You weren't worth it.

"What? But-"

Face it. You weren't worth it to get him to stay for you. You're only a weakness, a burden to him in the world he lives in.

"Stop. Please, no more."

Why you thought someone like him would stoop so low to love someone like you is-

"But he does love me!"

Does he? Or now, did he? If he loved you, he wouldn't have left you here. Struggling. If he truly loved you, then he wouldn't have left you all alone. So broken and cold in a hospital.

"..."

It hurts, doesn't it? Not so important now, Queenie. He'll forget about your sad, pathetic existence and be with someone on his own level. And you'll never be a part of his life ever again.

It hurts knowing that you had meant so much to Harry, yet in an instant, everything turns around and somehow you're not part of him, not as important to him as you thought you were. That numb, stabbing feeling from being insignificant to him welcomes you with open arms as you succumb to the tempting darkness of your thoughts.

***

James struggles against his binds which keep him in place to a chair in a dank warehouse. This was all Barry's doing, of course. The Speedster had alerted Harry of where he'd tied up the mole so that the Boss could deal with him how he deemed fit.

Nothing but the echo of Harry's shoes on the dirty concrete floor fills the massive room. James starts laughing.

"I don't know whether to be happy to see you or to wish for Merlyn instead," he says. Harry ignores this comment, eyes narrowing a bit.

"I should just be happy that you're a terrible shot." Harry comes to stand in front of his traitor, who sneers.

"What do you care? I know you left her. You should probably tell your lieutenants to keep their comments to themselves. But what happened? Didn't turn out to be true love in the end, eh?" Still so cocky, even now.

Harry can't stop himself from punching James in the face with unabated force before stepping back and pulling his gun out, aiming it straight at the other man's head.

This man, this piece of garbage, was the reason that she currently resides in the hospital. The reason she could have died. He has to pay...

"Go on, Wells," James says, spitting blood out to the side of his seat, his lip split. "If you don't, I'll just be found tomorrow with a black arrow in my chest anyway. Merlyn likes failures just as much as you do."

Harry cocks the weapon, his lips pressed into a firm line. He'd sworn off this - off of killing - to try and be a better man. All for you.

"Come on, Wells. Pull the trigger. Show yourself that you never deserved her. Your Flower. Show her the monster you really are and will alwa-"

The shot rings out before the deafening silence takes over.

Harry stares at a now lifeless James, head lulled to one side as a thin line of blood trails slowly down his forehead from the headshot.

This is by no means the first time he's done this and he is well accustomed to death after being in the war, but this time, he finds himself having to look away. He takes a deep breath, bringing one hand up to run over his face. It all feels different now.

It's nothing more than he deserved, he tries to reason with himself. His business is safe now and he'd gotten revenge for you.

Harry clears his throat, trying to collect himself as he takes his phone out of his pocket and dials the number he needs.

"Matthew. I need a clean-up down by the docks. As soon as possible." Harry glares back at James' limp form. "Leave his body for Merlyn to find."