: This short piece was written when my mind was in a dark place and contains .

So please skip this one if this may trigger things for you. I wrote this to project my own dark feelings onto a fictional character and distance myself from it. If you ever feel like you're spiraling into the darkness, please find help and talk about it.

The tears had come out of nowhere. Sitting alone in his dark apartment, Dick couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't put up the facade any longer. He couldn't pretend to be strong anymore, to be happy. He had only lasted this long because his siblings had needed him to be.

To be or not to be, that had been the question. Dick didn't want to be anymore.

Just like the tears had come out of nowhere, he was now holding a batarang. It hovered over his exposed wrist. He didn't want to feel this way, he wanted to cut away all these horrible feelings. He wanted to cut it all out. Maybe even cut himself out of the picture all together. He wanted to slice and cut away all the memories.

His parents falling to their deaths. The endless list of deaths and tragedies in his new family. Losing his friends over and over again. All the horrors Gotham had to offer.

Tarantula... Those memories he wanted to cut out most of all. He hadn't told anyone. How could he? It's not like it would change what had happened. It should never have happened. He had told her no, hadn't he? She must have heard him, right? Then why had she still done it?

All these scars, what difference would a few more make? The batarang hovered over his wrist, ready to cut it all away. But it kept hovering. He couldn't do it.

To die, to sleep. To sleep per chance to dream. Aye, there's the rub. For in that sleep of death what dreams may come?

Jason had told him there was nothing after death. But Dick wanted to believe differently. He wanted to believe that he would be reunited with all the loved ones he had lost over the years. But he couldn't face them. Not yet at least. Not like this.

A hand wrapped around his, moving the batarang away from his wrist.

"Why don't you put that away and come cuddle on the couch with me? I brought pizza." Dick had never been more relieved to hear Wally's voice. He let go of the batarang and let Wally pull him towards the living room.

Wally didn't askquestions, which Dick was grateful for. It was one of the things Dick loved abouthim, he never pushed, but rather let Dick come to him on his own terms. He knewthey would have to talk about this, but that could wait until the next morning.

: If you need to talk to someone and have no one, feel free to reach out to me on tumblr (deathgirl3014)