A/N: Hey! Thanks to the miracle that is YouTube, I'm now able to view any episode of Digimon I want. I'm free to bask in nostalgia, as well as get inspiration for writing.

My reasons for writing this: in all the TV series I've ever seen, animated or not, none have ever been able to move me like Digimon has. The reason: its portrayal of the absolute hell that is depression. In the first season, the dark tunnel Matt walks through and the dark hole Sora falls into are metaphors for depression; the utter, never-ending, inescapable despair. It's a trap, it's a void, it's a hole; it's so many things. In the second season, it was the Dark Ocean, which is the best metaphor of all; an ocean of sadness. And the characters that were affected by this darkness, like I have been, moved me the most out of all the others. That's why I'm a Matt/Sora and Ken/Kari shipper (though I'm even more of a Tai/Matt and Davis/Ken fanatic ;) ).

Here we go:

Matt

Darkness. Even when the brightest of lights flashed in my eyes, there it was.

Darkness. Encasing me - a shell. Within me - a void. Or a hole, more like. A hole in the mirror that distorted my reflection, a mirror as broken as my family. My reflection was as forced and crooked as the smile I wore, the ill-fitting mask that could never conceal the darkness inside.

Something in me said, What's the matter with you? Snap out of it. What did I have to complain about? I had my friends, the best friends a guy could have. A part of me said, Be grateful. There're here. They care.

But when Tai extended a hand in truce, a bigger part of me recoiled. It wasn't something I could help. When TK clung to me, turning to me for comfort, a bit of the darkness lifted. He was small, he was vulnerable, and he loved me. He needed me. He gave me a purpose. Just the fact that he needed me lifted the darkness. But not enough. Darkness remained, just enough to keep my love from showing itself.

The darkness just ran too deep. In my veins, it didn't flow so much as surge from the frantic pumping of a heart embedded in darkness.

No matter where I turned, no matter how I tried to push it aside, swallow it down, suck it up, whatever, I just couldn't.

I think the problem was, the bigger part of me wanted to stay trapped in darkness.

Most little kids are afraid of the dark. TK was. But I never was. Darkness soothed me. It lulled me to sleep. When I went to bed, all the worries, fears and anxieties that I repressed during the day rose to the surface, seizing me in a choke hold at first, then lessening, forming into a blanket of darkness that warmed me, soothed me. It's like when the lights first go out, and it takes a while for your eyes to adjust. That's how it was. When I adjusted to the darkness, it became my blanket. Like the baby blanket TK used to drag around with him everywhere, and hold on tightly to when he was afraid.

Sometimes light shone so bright it hurt my eyes. It stung me. It drained me. Light demanded things of me. Darkness didn't. Darkness was constant. It cradled me. It was firm and protective.

But darkness grows. It grew and grew, consuming me, choking me, clawing its way inside me, sometimes bursting to the surface in the form of words or fists. With my loved ones in the firing range.

I loved them all. There was no denying darkness, but there was also no denying love. I loved TK instinctively. And Izzy, Joe, Mimi, Kari… I often had to remind myself that I loved Tai too. So much love inside me for all of them. It conflicted with the darkness. Or maybe that love was a part of the darkness. I couldn't tell. Love was so similar to darkness. It warmed me, blanketed me, and gnawed at me, slowly.

Then there was Sora. I never allowed myself to think much of Sora. But in her own way, she demanded to be acknowledged - to me, anyway. First she established herself as the one who was always concerned for everyone else, never for herself. Fine. But then she bonded with TK, who adored her instantly. That's when I couldn't deny that Sora was more like me than I cared to believe. That was when I knew I had to confront that side of me sooner or later.

Just by watching Sora, the way she spoke, her protective, down-to-earth stance, I saw straight through the solid, composed façade she put on. She took care of everyone. But not everyone took care of her.

I could tell. By the way she was desperate to make herself needed among the group. By the way she comforted TK, lectured Tai, put herself on the line. With all the supply of love she shared among us, she herself was deprived of it, or so she felt.

A father who was absent. A detached, workaholic mother. I knew the feeling. It was a feeling like no other, being unwanted under your own roof, residing in a house where you were no more welcome than a blister. There was nothing like it; nothing like the hunger, the despair. When my parents broke up, neither one seemed to want me. I was always about TK. They fought over TK, hardly acknowledging me. The custody battle was over him alone. It seemed I was the burden - whoever lost TK was automatically stuck with me.

Please love me.

To the others the impression she gave off was along the lines of, Be careful. Think before you act. Stick together. Firm belief in the team, in herself and everyone else. But I saw it written plain as day on her face.

Please love me.

That was how we both felt. Sora was more myself than I was.

Please love me.

When Sora felt that she had no love to give or receive, I knew she was wrong. Tai and I both knew this was wrong. We loved her, and she loved us. But how to tell her? How to convince her? It's no easy task, trying to convince someone that they are loved. Tai tried, but failed miserably, making Sora cry. For all his good intentions, Tai was completely oblivious to what she was going through.

But somehow, it was easier not to empathize with her. I understood her. I understood the soul famine that tore at her from the inside. But how do I show that? I wondered. Was there really any way to comfort her? It did nothing for me when people told me, I know how you feel. So I didn't say anything.

Sora overcame it soon enough. I was glad. I was happy for her. But on some level, some selfish level, I was disappointed. Admittedly, part of me was glad to find someone who suffered silently the way I did. When Sora overcame it… It was as though I was left all alone again. I wished I'd said something when I had the chance. That was the first time I seriously considered voicing my feelings, saying, I know how you feel.

Then came the final blow that truly left me all alone. TK grew up. He matured. He cried less, spoke more, and grew taller. He developed self-reliance. He no longer needed me. What he didn't know was that I needed him to need me. What use was I now?

That was when darkness claimed, and no one, no matter how much they strained to extend a hand, could pull me out. As a result, I ended up hurting everybody who meant anything to me.

There was Gabumon. He did nothing but stick by my side, through thick and thin, saving my life repeatedly, listening when I confided in him. And I hurt him. It pained him to see me in pain. There was TK, who was too young to comprehend what I was going through. It confused him. There was Tai. My best friend. All his attempts to reason with me resulted in a fist to the face.

Then there was Sora. I could tell that she was going through the same thing I was when her crest wouldn't glow. She couldn't decide whether to reason with me or give me space.

It took a long walk through a dark tunnel of my own creation for me to heal. I finally realized what had been obvious all along, finally adjusted my eyes to the light that had been glaring in my eyes. I'd been in darkness so long, I'd forgotten what the light looked like.

I wasn't alone. My family was broken, as was my group of friends. We were scattered all around different regions of the Digital World, but none of us were alone. We were bound, not only by our responsibilities, but by our friendships. How else, when separated time and time again, did we all manage to find each other again? Gabumon had to bite me in order to convince me, but I finally got it.

The dark tunnel I created for myself disappeared, as did my comfort zone. I was free.

But I could never truly banish the darkness. On some level, I needed it. It was a part of who I was.

When Sora fell into the dark hole that opened up beneath her, there was nothing that Biyomon or Joe could say to bring her back. She sat there, encased in a dark dome, in an upright fetal position, trapped in the gnawing darkness.

I had to go back. I had to venture back into the darkness in order to save her, risking my own condition in the process. No one could do it but me.

In that dark realm that was foreign to everyone else, our hands came together, our fingers entwined, our souls connected. I pulled her out. I brought her back to light.

Darkness lifted, but in its place it left a gift. Having been imprisoned in it, I intuitively knew terrains that no one else ventured. I was left the gift of empathy.

There's a bond between all of us DigiDestined, a bond that holds us together in good times and bad. But Sora and I have something else - not necessarily deeper or stronger, but different. It's the love that we both felt so deeply, that we had difficulty showing. The love that we hunger for, beyond family and friendship, bonds us together.

For we were both once, and forever are, touched by darkness.