It felt like the air in the tower was replete with loneliness. Kory’s cloying perfume no longer lingered at the edges of his senses, something he’d never thought he could miss. Jason wasn’t abusing punching bags in the training room, and the rhythmic thuds he’d grown used to hearing were replaced by a silence so stifling it made his skin crawl. Hank and Dawn weren’t cuddling on the couch, Rachel wasn’t around, Donna was gone, and even Dick had left. Conner was still unconscious, and you? Gar wasn’t sure whether your physical presence actually counted as you being with him.

Gar was accustomed to loneliness, to losing things. More often than not, these feelings lasted for a long time. It wasn't just like a flash and then it was over; they lingered, floating around in his head, turning over and over. It was like running your tongue over a jagged tooth, or a song on the radio that you just can't get out of your head. They were persistent. They were overwhelming. They were confusing. But he dealt with them. Not very well, but he dealt with them.

“Hi.” Gar still had one arm raised to knock on your door– it was open, but he felt obligated to knock– as he greeted you. It had been three days since everybody had left, and he couldn’t stand not talking to the one other person who had stayed. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be up, but then I heard– well, I heard your breathing, which might sound a little creepy, but enhanced hearing, I can’t exactly turn it off, sorry.”

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck with a quiet laugh, exhaling some of the tension knotting in his chest. “Forget all that, I just wanted to ask if you’d like to have breakfast with me. I can’t cook like Dick can, but I’m not too bad, and to be honest? I’d really appreciate the company, if you’re up for it.”