Once a Titan

Being a hero was exhausting sometimes. It did give Garfield some sense of importance. Not enough to make his ego bigger than it should be. But enough to know he was doing well for the world. He was contributing to trying to make the world a better place. Something his adopted parents had done. But boy did it make him tired. As Garfield almost staggered into his room, all he had eyes for was his bed. His very comfy bed that was definitely calling his name softly. Or maybe that was just the exhaustion speaking? He was too tired to try to think about it. Either way he found himself face first, blindly reaching for the covers to throw them over himself. Ah darkness and silence. Perfect combination for him to close his eyes. He was dozing off though when something loud jolted him back to awareness. Just what was that sound. It sounded like ringing. It took more time than it should for Garfield to realize that it was his phone going off, as he tried to bury himself further under his covers. He just wanted to sleep. Was that so hard to ask for? Just five minutes. That’s all he was asking for. Living with the Doom Patrol again after years of being by himself and even longer being part of the Teen Titans was tiring to put it. He loved the members of the ragtag heroes especially his mother and father but they got to be a bit much even for Gar’s taste.

Or maybe it had something to do with the breaking of the Titans. They had gone from strangers who barely had anything in common other than being outcasts and trying to prove themselves to the world. Then to strangers once more. But Garfield did not like to think about that. It brought back too many memories. Some good. Some bad. All hurtful. He had tried in the beginning to keep in touch with all of them. But they all had their own things to do and eventually they all stopped talking. In the end though he tried not to think about the others. What they were doing. How they were doing after all these years. If they were safe and sound. Or if they were just trying to make it day by day with no idea in sight. Pretending with jokes and smiles that they were doing great when in reality they wondered if they could have done something different. That if they stopped smiling and joking that everyone will realize that they are just as sad and depressed as anyone else. Barely functioning but still there. Okay maybe that last part was more Garfield then the others. But this was why he didn’t like thinking about the Titans. It got too personal. The ringing stopped. He really should go back to sleep. Every member of Doom Patrol was either here in the manor or was on a mission that was with a strict no contact unless an emergency rule but they’d call the communicators not Gar’s actually phone. Yeah now he was curious and his brain wouldn’t let him go to sleep until he at least looked at who was calling him.

He shifted slightly, huffing gently at the cold air as his hand came up to fumble around the bedside table. Eventually he closed his hand around the object, quickly bringing his arm back under the bed covers where it was warmer. The light was blinding as he flipped it open and it took a few blinks to get his eyes to focus. The name that stared at him, had Garfield quickly forgetting he was trying to sleep. He was wide awake now. Blankets falling to bunch up on his lap as he sat up. One missed call. D*ck Grayson. Three years it would have read something like Bestie with a bunch of emojis but through the years Garfield had not only lost the original phone it was on (and each time since reuniting with Raven he’d have to ask for D*ck’s number once more since he knew she was at least talking with D*ck enough to have a number) but also their friendship hadn’t exactly stayed as strong as it once was. It had been three long years since he’d even entertained the thought of what was once a very strong family that ended up cracking piece by piece until the original five was no more. Three years since he stopped trying with the others in that damn group chat he had created and added everyone into years ago. Okay maybe he’d thought of them all sporadically throughout the three years. He was probably being dramatic but damn it he was allowed to be dramatic sometimes.

Seeing the name sent a pang through his chest. They had once been so close. They had gotten off on the wrong foot in the beginning. D*ck too serious and Gar not serious enough. Gar thought D*ck could lighten up a little and have some fun while D*ck thought Gar could just be serious for once. It wasn’t until their first big mission as a group that they’d bonded. And found out they had much more in common than they had first thought. They had both lost their parents in tragic events at a young age. They had been adopted by larger than life superheroes. Both had the experience of working with a team. When Raven left and the rest of the original Titans fell apart, BB had tried in the beginning to keep in touch with all of them. And for a while it went well. But eventually they had their own things to do and slowly all communication had stopped between them. No fault of anyone’s really. It just happened. Every once in a while D*ck would send a message his way but he was Bludhaven’s resident Nightwing and got busy which Gar understand. Of course all the understanding in the world didn’t make it hurt less that even his best friend had slowly become a stranger in the end. Shaking those thoughts away, Garfield stared at the voicemail image, bottom lip caught between his teeth for a second before he was pressing it. A voicemail meant something important was going on.

Please enter your password

His fingers moved across the screen without him thinking much about it. “Gar. It’s an emergency. Call me back as soon as you get this.”  Hearing D*ck’s voice felt nice but it put him on alert immediately. D*ck sounded a bit worried. And his words while simple seemed to be a bit rushed. Not enough for Garfield to not understand what he was saying but enough to know that it had shaken the other male. He said it was an emergency. What or who could it be about to get his friend to sound like that. Slade? No. That couldn’t be it. D*ck could take the man on by himself these days. No way would he need another person’s help. His finger hovered over the call back button, a ding interrupting him. It took a second for him to recognize the bubble that popped up. The group chat. He never could get rid of it. Even if no one had said anything in it for three years. If D*ck was sending a message there….that meant it was more than just important. He dreaded opening it for a second before steeling himself with a deep breath and pressing the bubble. Two words stared back at him. Almost as if it was taunting him. He’s back. Who is back? He couldn’t mean? No. It couldn’t be. Anything but that….anyone but him. “Raven.” He almost pressed the call button that would pull up his list of contacts to call her but knew that if it was who he thought D*ck was insinuating then Raven knew already.

She would have been the first one who felt it. Or felt something. Besides Raven was a big girl. She could take care of herself. HAD taken care of herself since leaving the team with only a written ‘Goodbye’. She didn’t need BB worrying about her. He knew that. Besides if D*ck called him then she had to have received a phone call herself and they’d be seeing each other once again. He tossed back the covers, nearly falling off the bed in his scramble to get up. The team had taken the bastard down once. They could do it again. They would do it again. Raven would not have to go through what she did again. He wouldn’t let her pull away again. She didn’t have to be alone. Garfield would not allow it. Of course he knew it was easier said than done but right now he didn’t care. They’d failed once to protect Raven. No. He didn’t need to worry himself before it was confirmed on who D*ck meant by he’s back. Maybe he was wrong. He sure wished he was wrong. Should he pack something? A small bag wouldn’t hurt right? What would he need other than himself and his suit? It wasn’t like he had weapons of his own to use. His whole body and ability to transform into other animals was all the weapons he needed. A couple of clothes wouldn’t hurt right? No. He didn’t have time to think about such trivial things. He was needed. He reached for his bedroom doorknob, freezing as he caught sight of a photo that always caused him pain but he refused to get rid of or hide. Five teens. All different. But all outcasts in one way or another. Smiling as if there was nothing that could beat them. He could even notice a slight upturn of Raven’s lips as if she wanted to smile then remembered who she was at the last second but it was too late to change her expression. He remembered making five copies and shoving them into each Titan's hands to do with them as they pleased.

He himself kept it on the back of his door after debating for so long if he wanted to keep it or not. He choose the back of his door in the end so that they would be the first thing he saw in the morning. They had given him strength once and he didn’t want to forget that. Even if it sometimes hurt to see it. It was because of them he felt like he belonged somewhere. He felt a twinge of guilt at thinking that, knowing his mother had tried her best but in the end it was the team of outcasts that did it. He got stronger with them. Because of their belief in him. They picked him up when he fell down. They never expected more from Beast Boy then what he could give them. Doom Manor had never felt like home since his return to it. No fault to the Doom Patrol. The people in it felt like family but something was always wrong. Something was always missing. And now he knew why. Those five. That tower. It was home. It was his family. He didn’t love the Doom Patrol any less but he was a Titan. And as they always said. Once a Titan. “Always a Titan.” It was time to return home.