Sometimes it was easier to not feel at all, sometimes it was simpler to not react, sometimes it was nicer to not feel. Bad things mean nothing when you forget they're 'bad'. That's why you stopped. Stopped caring. Stopped caring for yourself. Stopped sleeping, just working through the night instead. Stopped eating enough, one 'proper' meal a day would suffice. Stopped taking meds. Stopped resting. Stopped relaxing. Just. Stopped.

And it was easier, for some time. For some time until it grew into a problem bigger than the ones you previously ignored. One big enough for even the normally ignorant Damien to begin to show concern. You had stopped caring for yourself, so your body was just constantly on the brink of collapse, and yet you still went on patrols and pretended everything was fine. Well...it was fine. At least, it was your definition of fine.

Bruce knew it was time for an intervention, they had all known for a while, but they had been waiting - hoping - for you to return to normalcy, and start to be okay again. But as they began to see more and more of a need for a talk, you seemed to be home less and less. As if they were grasping at trails moments after they disappeared.