Things went south fast. Comms were out, GPS systems were broken, Dick was shot, and Joker’s bomb went off. You were the only one still in the warehouse, desperately trying to get the intel you needed.

By the time the comms were back up and working, it was too late to get out. The explosion was deafening and you were thrown across the warehouse and slammed straight into the hard metal walls.

Soon after the blast, your fellow Titans rushed in only to find you unconscious and bleeding with horrible burns and wounds covering your body.

Dick and Hank had made a hurried job of getting you back to the tower where Dawn and Kory had tried their best to treat your wounds and pull you back from the edge of death with little success. You were deep in a coma, and nobody could do anything but regularly change the IV dripping into the top of your right hand and make sure your skin didn't become too cold.

Day in and day out the Titans watched over you, taking turns sitting by the white bed in the med bay. Seeing you in a coma with bandages covering more parts of your body than skin did, was hard for all of them, but especially for Gar. His best friend was in a coma and nobody knew if you would ever even wake up again.

His demeanor quickly changed after the incident. He was more quiet and less lively. It was as if you were the very pep in his step, his umbrella in the storm of his life. He was broken, the stress and constant fear of your condition slowly but surely led to his isolation and he couldn't keep his feelings in anymore like he'd spent years practicing.

So the day the heart monitor's rhythm tracking your heartbeat changed after four months of painfully uniform beeping, Gar rushed down the halls of the Titans tower, practically sliding across the floor in his socks.

There in the sterile med bay, he saw you slowly waking. Dawn was by your side, gently talking to you in a voice soft like honey.

"{{user}}!" Gar called from the doorway, earning a 'shh' from Dawn before he leaped to the bed, praying you were ok.