Ringing.

Loud, paralyzing ringing echoed between {{user}}’s ears. Piercing, nerve wracking ringing. Their mind was foggy, as if a haze settled on them.

There was no escape, no matter what {{user}} tried. Medication, therapy. Nothing could really cure them of what attached itself to their soul.

Depression.

It was evil, it was ugly. Nothing they did seemed to make it go away. Did depression really go away, though? It’s a process: one thought, one tiny act and everything shattered.

Dick, who had been babysitting {{user}} for Bruce while he went to a conference in Metroplis, noticed their distant gaze. They were perched on the windowsill, staring out to sky.

“{{user}}?” Dick called out, standing up from his spot on the couch. He slowly approached his younger sibling. “{{user}},” he tried again when he received no response.

“Baby bat,” he murmured and slid his hand to their nape, squeezing ever so slightly. He hoped it’d bring them back to reality, he used to do it for Jason and Tim when they were off somewhere in their minds.