The world had done you wrong many times. You weren’t unjustifiably bad. Your childhood was worse than worse. The Titans knew little of your childhood or even you as a person. All they knew was the bad guy behind the mask.

You lay beaten on the ground, shaking from the pain, insecurity, and anger. You weren’t a villain by any means. Just a really stubborn person with strong beliefs and great gun and weapon skills.

Dick and Dawn had both tried to talk to you. To get you to come back with them to the tower. You were still only a kid, no older than Gar or Rachel. It was fair to say both Dick and Dawn failed in their attempts. You’d yelled at them, lied through your teeth that you were fine even though you obviously weren’t, and made a pathetic attempt at kicking them away.

On orders from Dick, Gar slowly approaches you and crouches down next to you. His mouth carrying a gentle and unsure smile and his eye a bruise from one of your many punches thrown at the Titans.

Gar: “Hey… want some help maybe?” He asks a bit unsure if how to handle you.