Running Home To You (Olivarry)

Chapter One

Trigger warning ⚠️ (thoughts of suicide and depression, eating disorder, as well as attempted suicide)

Barry was tired, as usual he was staying in the lab after hours, despite the fact that he had been heavily scolded by Joe multiple times. This did not stop him of course as he continued to obsessively try to figure out his father's case. He turned to the clock, it was already one in the morning and Barry's stomach was aching in hunger. The boy ignored it, shaking his head and continuing to tap away at the keyboard. This was stopped once he heard footsteps, before he could quickly turn off his desk light and yeet himself over the desk to hide he was met with Joe.
"Bear. What are you still doing here? You need to go home, get some rest."
"Not yet, Joe I'm so close to a breakthrough, if I can prove that someone else was in that house that night then I can start making the case that my father's innocent."
"Barry, your father would hate to see you like this. I hate to see you like this. Whatever you're working on can wait til tomorrow, go on home to your apartment, eat something and get some rest. You look exhausted."
Joe put a comforting hand on his shoulder and looked at him like any worried father would.
"Please."
He begged and Barry sighed and nodded, turning off his monitor and grabbing his satchel.
"Do you need a ride?"
"No, no it's fine. I'll catch a cab, see you tomorrow."
"Goodnight, Bear."
A small, fake smile was given to the older man and was immediately dropped once he turned and walked away. He began his trek home, the cold air wracking against his body as he pulled his many layers of clothes around himself, hugging himself as he fast walked to his apartment. Once he got inside he maneuvered around the mess that was left there. Dirty clothes piled up all around, empty instant noddles and microwaveable dinners sat on every available surface and what wasn't covered in trash or clothes were books, files, cases stacked all around. On the wall to the left was a big conspiracy theory like board, with all
of the details of his mother's murder.
He walked into the kitchen, turning up the heat and taking off a few of his large puffy sweaters, rolling up his sleeves to reveal his arms that were thick with hair and not the sexy kind, the kind your body grows to keep itself warm. He opened the fridge and pulled out a orange and peeled it, making sure to add it to his calorie intake, he had finally managed to lose weight, he wasn't about to gain it again, the very idea of that scared him. He ate half the orange not really feeling hungry, his stomach now being the size of a small dogs' it was difficult to feel hungry now.
He looked to the bathroom, he should really shower, even though he didn't sweat much it had been days but the prospect of getting undressed, getting in the tub, lathering his hair in soap, cleaning himself, all seemed just too exhausting. Even so he trudged his way inside turned the knob to the hottest setting and started peeling off layer after layer. Once he was naked he felt like he had just entered the arctic even though the home was above 80 degrees. He stepped into the bath and sighed into the warmth it gave him. He didn't bother showering, standing seemed too exhausting, he'd be lucky if he could find the energy to wash himself.
This is how it was, he spent what little energy he had, bringing himself past his limits trying to find anymore clues about his father's case, once he was done, once he was no longer engrossed, obsessed with finding the truth his was left alone with himself. And sadly, he didn't much like himself.
He managed to wash his hair and haphazardly wash his body as he stepped out of the bath and dried himself off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and just as he was about to leave the bathroom he caught a glimpse of himself. He had to be no more than a hundred pounds if he was lucky, he didn't weigh himself much, not wanting to know, or more out of fear that he had gained more weight. As a child he was always the fat kid, bullied relentlessly for this he developed an eating disorder in his teens and still had it now as a twenty four year old man.
Barry's brown hair looked almost dark in contrast to his sickly pale skin, he had large bags under his green eyes, parts of his body stuck out and looked strangely, the body not designed to have this little meat. Hair covered a good deal of his arms and legs and his chest, thick coarse hair, lanugo was the term, Barry had looked up what was happened and it was the body's natural defense, the body now had too little fat. His body couldn't keep warm so it was trying to make up for this in thicker hair.
Alive was not a word Barry would use to describe how he appeared, one would think he was a real life vampire if they didn't know him. He sighed, heavily and turned away from the mirror and went into his room. He stepped into sweats and bundled himself up in blankets, he looked up at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling as he thought.
Tomorrow was his day off, that meant he could spend the whole day working on his case and that also meant he wouldn't be forced to decline a lunch date with Iris.
He breathed in and out, closed his eyes and hoped he could have a single night without dreaming about the ball of lightning and his mother bleeding out. This of course did not happen.