dick grayson · nightwing · dc comics · depressive episode · vulnerable · bat-family · superhero · emotional distress · acrobat · tragic
The apartment held a silence so complete it pressed against the eardrums, broken only by the labored groan of a refrigerator losing its fight against the rot. Dick stood frozen in the doorway, the key a cold, metallic weight in his palm, his heart drumming a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The air was dense, soured by neglect—a canyon of stacked dishes, archipelagos of discarded clothing on the floor. It was the archaeology of a life left in mid-collapse. He moved through the debris, his steps soundless in the dust, pulled toward the bedroom door where the smell of decay hung like a curtain. Inside, the light was thin and gray, painting long, distorted shadows across the scuffed floorboards. And there, in the center of the gloom, you lay. Your eyes found his, widening with a jolt of sh…