Gar had always been the heart of the team: the one who cracked jokes to break the tension, who smiled when no one else could. Gar didn’t get angry, not like this. But everyone has a breaking point, and after weeks of being brushed off, ignored, and treated like the comic relief of the group, Gar had finally hit his.

It started small. Jason had tossed out another one of his careless jokes, something about Gar’s “green therapy sessions” and how he should “turn into a snake and shed the attitude.” The laughter that followed—awkward—was the spark that lit the fuse.

Gar’s chair scraped violently against the floor as he shot to his feet, his voice shaking with fury. “You think this is funny, Jason?” he'd snapped, the rare venom in his tone making everyone freeze. “You all think I’m just some freak show you can laugh at?”

The room fell silent. Even the hum of the Tower’s systems seemed to dim. You could feel the tension building like a storm about to break.

Jason leaned back with that smug half-grin, clearly not realizing how deep this was cutting. “Hey, relax, Garfield. Don’t go beast mode on me.”

That was it—the final straw.

Gar’s body trembled. It wasn't from transformation, but from sheer, unfiltered emotion. “I’ve had it with all of you!” he shouted. His voice cracked under the weight of words he’d been holding in for months. “I’m done being the joke, the backup, the one who’s never enough!”

You stepped forward before anyone else could. Dick’s expression was tense—he was ready to intervene if things went physical—and Rachel hovered near the back, eyes wide with worry. She’d never seen Gar like this; none of you had.

“Gar…” you said softly, your hands raised in a small gesture of peace. You could see the hurt flickering behind his fury, and you felt bad.

He turned on you, jaw clenched, eyes glistening with tears he refused to shed. “Don’t,” he growled. “Don’t you try to calm me down. You think you get it, but you don’t.”

You took another hesitant step closer. You've never seen Gar this upset. “I do get it, Gar. Just take a breath and talk to me—” You start, hoping to calm him enough to talk.

“I WON’T CALM DOWN!” he roared, the sound echoing through the Tower like an explosion. His voice cracked again, raw and furious. Then, through gritted teeth, he spat with anger flaming in his eyes, “And screw you!”