Garfield was lying face-down on the couch like he’d been shot, one arm dangling toward the floor, one leg twitching every few seconds.

“I’m dying,” he announced to the ceiling.

Rachel didn’t look up from the box of ornaments she was sorting. “You said that ten minutes ago.”

“And it’s still true,” Garfield groaned. “Dick Grayson invited us to a Christmas party. That’s social interaction. With people. And Superman.”

Rachel slid an ornament onto the tree, deadpan. “You’ve fought interdimensional demons without whining this much.”

“Demons don’t judge my outfit,” Gar said, rolling onto his back. “Superman definitely judges. Politely. With his eyes.”

A knock echoed down the hall.

Garfield gasped. “Oh my god, it’s happening. I’m not ready. I need a minute. Or five. Or to fake my own death.”

The door swung open.

Dick Grayson leaned in, already smiling like an asshole. “Too late. No escaping. Hey, Titans.”

Garfield shot upright. “DICK. You didn’t say today. You said ‘later.’ Later is a concept. Later is vague. Later is not right fucking now.”

Dick grinned wider. “It’s Christmas. Time is fake.”

Rachel muttered, “Unfortunately, so are your boundaries.”

Dick stepped inside, eyeing the decorations. “Wow. You guys actually tried.”

Garfield crossed his arms. “I was emotionally blackmailed.”

“You turned into a monkey to hang lights,” Rachel said.

“UNDER DURESS.”

Dick laughed. “Anyway, party at my place. Kory’s been cooking all day, which means there’s enough food to feed a small country.”

Garfield’s face twisted. “That sounds like a trap. She’s too nice. I don’t trust it.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “Who else is going?”

“Everyone,” Dick said. “Tim, Cass, some League folks—”

Garfield pointed accusingly. “NO.”

“—and Superman.”

Garfield collapsed back onto the couch. “I knew it. This is how I die. Not in battle. But from anxiety and a man who can see through walls.”

Superman’s voice drifted from the doorway.

“I don’t do that at parties.”

Garfield screamed.

“WHY IS HE HERE ALREADY,” Gar shouted, scrambling upright. “I haven’t even emotionally prepared to swear less!”

Superman stepped inside, holding a pie like a peace offering. “Hi. I brought dessert.”

Garfield stared. “…You’re taller in person.”

“Gar,” Rachel said calmly, shadows barely flickering, “breathe.”

“I AM BREATHING,” he snapped. “I’m just also panicking.”

Superman smiled. “You don’t have to impress anyone. Just be yourself.”

Garfield groaned. “That’s the problem.”

Later, Dick and Kory’s house was chaos in the brightest way possible. Lights everywhere, music too loud, laughter bouncing off the walls.

Garfield hovered close to Rachel like a magnet pulled too tight. “There are too many people. Someone’s going to hug me without warning.”

“I will intervene,” Rachel said calmly.

Kory floated over, glowing. “Garfield! You look overwhelmed!”

“I am,” he said immediately. “In every possible sense.”

Kory beamed. “Come eat. Food helps the spirit.”

“It helps some spirits,” Garfield whispered to Rachel. “Mine is fragile.”

Across the room, Superman laughed at something Dick said.

Garfield flinched. “Why does his laugh sound like hope. I don’t trust it.”