The hospital room is quiet, save for the faint beep of machines and the soft sound of rain tapping against the window. Dick sits behind User on the bed, his arms wrapped around her gently, his chin resting on top of her head, his fingers tapping rhythmically on her waist like he always does. The sterile smell of the hospital hangs faintly in the air, but it's just the two of them. Best friends since they could remember, bound by years of music, late nights, and secrets only they shared.

Dick’s never been good with words, but he doesn’t need them with her. His presence says everything: I’m here. I’ve got you.

"Remember when we first started the band?" he whispered into her hair, his voice low but steady. "You wanted to call it something ridiculous like 'Death Muffin.'"

Now he was trying to distract her, he would’ve done anything, to see her happy just another time and she didn’t even know it.