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Gar realized he had sealed his fate with Rachel and Angela the night he disobeyed the Robin to break into a fortress. He would do it again, a million times over, eating a guy and all — the only downside to it was Rachel realizing he would agree to anything if she asked him for it.
So despite the fact that he had just found the perfect spot on the floor, device charged and ready. Kori and Dick out of the house and Donna missing. He knew plans had changed when Rachel and Angela walked in, hands clasped behind their backs and smiles on their faces.
Angela wanted a refresher on cooking the basics. It had been so long and she loved his pancakes, the best she could remember she had gushed. He really wanted to say no, he really wanted to play his game. But it was Rachel, and she had the gall to pout at him as if he’d actually say no. He thinks of what life could have been for a split second. Had his parents not died and his mom got pregnant with that little girl they always talked about. Would it be like this? A little sister who pouts and annoys him until he makes her and mom pancakes. He lets himself pretend for a few moments as he follows them out of the room.
The kitchen had been a horrible mess by the end of the day, and deciding that Angela needed the first shower to wash all the food from her long hair, Gar and Rachel took up cleaning duty.
Cleaning was easy, the dishwasher made the worst of it go fast. It wasn’t until they were both wiping down sticky counters and appliances that Gar took the chance to sneak a glance at Rachel. He wondered if she ever took off all those necklaces she wore. There was something sticky on the long one, leaving little drips over everything she had just wiped down. Did she wear them to bed? He had tried to do it once, with his parent's old dog tags. They always wound up choking him in his sleep, so he resorted to keeping them tucked away in a case in his pack. His parents would have liked Angela, and they would have liked Rachel too.
“Gar?” her voice snapped him out of the thought, and his gaze went from the necklaces on her neck to her eyes.
She was staring him down, clearly uncomfortable. But he couldn’t figure out what to say, and neither could she. So they stayed like that, awkwardly staring each other down five feet apart with a counter in between. She finally took in a sharp breath through her nose and her face relaxed, not into a smile, not into a grimace. Gar not sure what his face had looked like until that point, was ready to offer a smile in return, until a large whooping noise broke both their gazes and there stood Kori, Dick, and Donna Troy.
“Interrupting are we?” Kori teased out, earning a giggle from Donna. She had that same smile she gave him on the train ride here. Sickly is what it made Gar feel. He let his gaze flutter between the small group and Rachel, her face had gone stern again and her neck was slowly turning red underneath all those necklaces. Kori and Donna were laughing at each other about something she had said, and the uncomfortable pit in his stomach was screaming at him to come up with something stupid to add in, something to get him out of this situation. Until Dick saved the day, again.
“Kori,” it was stern but not mean and it got Donna and Kori to shut up. He turned to them, suddenly soft and light again, “I don’t like my ice cream warm thanks.” He pointed at the grocery bags in their hands with his own, also full of groceries and supplies and shoved past Gar to the fridge behind him. He had enough sense then to head out of the kitchen and couldn’t even bother to feel bad for leaving Rachael there alone.
He had spent the rest of the night cooped up in his room, waiting until he was sure everyone was in bed before trying for the bathroom. Luck of course, still managed to let him run into Angela, she paused for a second to let him through the tight hallway offering a soft, “Gar,” and his arm a firm squeeze as he slipped in the bathroom. No doubt someone told her about earlier. Or she figured it out herself.
He could feel the corners of his eyes burn remembering that morning in the kitchen of Batman's safe house. He had felt caught, dirty and uncomfortable when she brought up the way he looked at Rachel. What was wrong with him? He caught a look at himself in the mirror and stopped -- what was it they saw?
A memory pushed its way forward again, the first time he had been alone since he realized his parents were really gone. The little bathroom of a commercial flight back to the States, Dr. Caulder hadn’t let him leave his site until then. After everything that had happened between him and Rachel, he realizes now Caulder had been worried he’d run away. Only feeling at ease to let him out of his sight when they were thousands of feet in the air. If he hadn’t found Rachel he’d still be there, with Chief. No, trapped with Chief. If he didn’t stop staring at Rachel, how long before he couldn't be here anymore too?
Gar considered for a second, if they kicked him out where would he go. Back home? Was that the Congo? He waited until the shower was running hot before letting himself cry under the water. Would it be weird to ask Angela for that hug after all?
It was nearing dawn when Dick had knocked on his door and asked him to follow him outside. It was so cold outside and Dick seemed so serious that all he had managed to grab were hit boots. When they made it out onto the front porch he let Dick stand in front of him, tall and looming, but all Gar could think was at least he was blocking his bare chest from the wind.
“Look, I don’t want to,” Dick furrows his brow, hands shoved deep in his brown jacket and looking away from him. He was embarrassed Gar thought. “I don’t want to put you on the spot here. I know Kori does it enough. But we need to talk about you and Rachel.”
He knew what he was going to say or had a good idea, it wouldn’t be the first time. At least he wasn’t getting kicked off the team with zero warning.
Back before everything, there was a girl from the Congo, Laure. She would walk past his parent's clinic every day with her mother. It took weeks to build the courage to approach her and say he liked her purple and orange dress. She laughed and confidently said she didn’t really like his clothes, the colors are boring she had told him. He added that stupid red bandana to his khakis. She loved it.
They eventually made it a habit of walking the road out of town together. Her mother walking a few feet ahead pretending not to listen in to their broken flirting, her French so different from his. It took another whole month until he let his hand brush against hers, and she instantly hooked their pinkies, looking straight ahead but smiling as bright as her purple orange dress. The next day two men came knocking on his parent's door and spent the better part of the morning yelling at his father. She didn’t walk into town after that. Her mother came alone.
“Garfield, I mean it.” Dicks' voice pulled him back to now. “Rachel doesn’t need that, you don’t need that. I want you both to focus on yourselves. You’re not just here because of her. Be here for yourself.”
Gar nodded, piecing together what he figured had been the gist of Robin v.1’s speech. “I am, I promise.”
He could see the wheels turning in Dick’s head, the way his eyes bore into him like he had a built-in lie detector he was booting up. He probably did, Batman tech and all.
“It’s not like that,” he said the words, firm and clear, like Rita when she was done with a conversation. Gar drew an imaginary ex over his chest, he was still him after all. He kept his gaze steady, meeting Dick with what he hoped was the right emotion. He seemed convinced.
“Right. Look, I didn’t mean to,” he was looking for the right words. Gar had always been good at picking up silent panic in people. Maybe because they smelled a little bad. Like someone just warming up for a workout.
“Well you know, teenagers. I was one.” Dick tried again with a laugh, “I was on a team with some you know, we had ground rules but we made them ourselves. I trust you two to do the same.”
He gave Gar a smile or an attempt at one, it was more of a grimace. He didn’t know how to end this conversation.
Gar stood up straight, and gave him a salute, “Sir, yes sir! You’ll see a list of ground rules on your desk first thing!”
Dick laughed, relief washing over his face and clapped him on the back. “You're a good kid Gar,” and with that left him alone on the porch.
There wasn’t much point in dragging himself back to bed. So he sat himself down on the steps leading down from the porch. He let himself float back to the memory of Laure.
It hadn’t been much, just two thirteen-year-olds learning what love was. Or what it could be. And despite only having held pinkies once, he cried for days. Because they had been friends first.
Eventually, his father explained that girls never end up with their first crush, it was better this way. If he found her again in the future he stood a better chance. His mother had yelled out in shock, “Mark! What kind of trash is that!” But his father only laughed and started teasing his mom about some Nicholas Galtry who she still held a torch for her.
Gar let his head lean against the banister and tried to work out his dad's logic. He wondered if Rachel had ever had a crush before. She mentioned a guy, Matt who stood up for her once. Rachel had insisted he was still a jerk anyway.
This was dumb, yes he liked her, but a friend is a friend. And what Dick said was true, he needed to be here for him. They could be friends first.
He let his leg swing down through the rails onto the ground and kicked the earth with the tip of his shoe, smiling at the thought of his mom and dad arguing over his first crush theory. “Well,” he whispered and scraped at a rock stuck in between the dirt. He got it free and kicked it up into the air. “Just to be safe, better make it two.”
Nope, he definitely didn’t like Rachel.