3291/The Shadow of No Cat

The Shadow of No Cat
Date of Scene:	09 September 2020
Location:	One of Steve Dayton's Safehouses, somewhere in Metropolis
Synopsis:	Colette hunts down Gar to try to... she doesn't even know what she's trying to do, but she's gotta try, because Terry Pratchetted her.
Cast of Characters:	Colette O'Connail, Gar Logan

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Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette's car pulls up and stops in the street, a short distance from the safe house where Gar has been hiding out from the world. She pulls out her phone and dials a number; after a brief conversation, a different car that was parked close by pulls out and drives away.

    welve properties owned by Dayton and various shell companies in the Metropolis area have been staked out for the best part of a day, but this is the only one that has shown signs of life. Colette has taken a hit to the credit card on this, and is probably going to have some explaining to do with her dad, but that's something that can be dealt with tomorrow. Tomorrow is always easier.

    Today is hard.

    It takes some time for Colette to gather her courage and get out of the car. She takes a few breaths, rubs her face, squares her shoulders, and walks to the door.

    <Knock knock>

    "Gar, it's...." sigh. "Gar. It's me. I know you're there. Please open up. I..." she sighs again and leans heavily against the wall next to the door. "I know you don't exactly... approve of me. I just wish... I mean... I got one too. A message. I know you did. Please Gar? Can we talk?"

Gar Logan has posed:
It's been, what two days, three days since it happened? Go with a few days.

A few days since a group consisting mostly of Titans went to space and did Big Things to help stop the Warzoon invasion and save the world.

A few days since some serious ass was being kicked.

A few days since Vorpal went back to do one final thing with Cyborg, Troia, and Caitlin.

A few days since their communications became distorted.

A few days since a massive flash left them just plain gone.

A few days since a silent trip back home on the T-Jet.

A few days since Gar immediately took off upon landing.

A few days, minus a very sleepless night, since Gar got the video message from Terry.

A few days plus a few more days since the two seemed on top of the world, Beast Boy and Vorpal, superhero couple.

Now, one is gone plus three longtime teammates he'd been through a lot with. Massive loss, again, only months after returning, rebuilding, restarting.

One might understand why Garfield Logan retreated...again.

Surveillance would have noticed food delivery left at the entrance, a green hand extending a few minutes later from a partly opened door. That was hours ago. More recently, another order that some youngster who'd been clearly on the lookout for scooped up first, but this time the occupant didn't even come to check.

But, he was there.

He was still there when the knock at the door came. "Just leave it outside," came his voice, calling from within. It was flat. Emotionless. Practically dead.

Then, not a voice he expected to hear. There is silence for a few seconds, then he is heard once more. "There's nothing to talk about."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette does not respond for a few moments. Perhaps because there's a part of her that agrees. "Maybe you're right," she concedes.

    There are a few more moments of contemplative silence from the far side of the door. Then: "But he wouldn't say that, would he? He'd say... he'd say we should be talking to each other. He'd say words are important. He... he... loved to say that words are important, didn't he?"

    Colette draws in a very deep breath. "I'm glad you're alive, Gar. When I got the message from him, I... I didn't know. And believe it or not... well you can hate me if you like, but I actually for some reason care about you too. And... Kian. And Kate. Gar... Gar. Are they... are they okay?"

    She pushes herself away from the wall with a whispered "Fuck," and knocks on the door again. "Gar, please? Let me in. Let's talk. I can't... he.... Oh fuck it. Look, even if you don't want to talk to me. Or talk to anyone. I've got to try. I mean even if I didn't actually want to check on you, he basically /ordered/ me to, okay? So for his sake, just... you know."

Gar Logan has posed:
"The rest made it," Gar says, and Colette may have to strain to hear him with street traffic on her side of the door. She might even have to put her ear up to it, cover the other one, ask him to repeat himself once or twice, depending.

"But words don't matter now," he adds. "Words don't bring anyone back."

There is a thump against the door, the sound of something sliding, perhaps, down it. Then, his voice comes through again, closer and lower than before. By that point, the knock is somewhat absorbed by the body against the wood. He can even feel it a little.

A chuckle, a low, empty laugh. "So he made you look for me? I'm calling bullshit."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "You think he wouldn't? C'mon." Colette finds herself blinking a couple of times, and sniffs quickly. "You know how his... he always sees the... saw the best in people. Even if they didn't deserve it."

    She turns, leaning her own back against the door, but stays standing. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and stares at it for a few moments, but eventually she puts it away. "He said I might need to be a light in the darkness. There's a joke, huh? What a dork. He also said that you'd need someone who understands what it's like to feel all alone in the world, and I figure he's right there. One of those times he could be annoyingly insightful."

    There's another long sigh. "It's particularly annoyingly insightful for him to pick on me for that, because... he didn't know. I never told him that much. God damn it. If he was still alive, I'd... I'd... WHY? Why'd he have to go and die? It's not... it isn't fucking FAIR."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan snorts. "Yeah. The last time I saw you, you wanted him to steal something and you had some dumb excuse for why it was a good idea, and I was the idiot for not wanting him to go there."

Will she take it as a good thing that he's being blunt and honest in what he feels, or will she be offended?

He repeats the words, "A light in the darkness," but in a way that shows how little he's buying that one. "Yeah, life's not fair. Right when everything seemed to be going good, we all needed a reminder of that."

The sound of the lock being turned follows, then the door opens toward the inside. Hopefully she's shifted away from it. "Fine. Come inside. Let's talk. The sooner we're done, the sooner you can leave."

One look at him shows someone who'd have been lucky to get eight hours of sleep over those last few days. His eyes are bloodshot, his expression weary. There's even the start of a beard struggling to form. He steps aside, and as soon as she enters she can see a few empty food containers on a kitchen counter just ahead. At least he's been eating. And, he's changed out of his costume, which lies in a pile on the floor in the living room. It shows signs of blood, and tearing. Instead, he's in a black tank top and red basketball shorts, barefoot.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette pushes away from the door when she feels the movement from the other side of it, and is facing it and waiting when Gar gives in and opens up. She looks a little different today. Her eyes seem darker. There's a lack of makeup on her eyes that probably accounts for that.

    If she's offended by the bluntness, she certainly doesn't show it. She looks him over intently when the door opens, taking in all those details of sleeplessness and personal neglect, and finally greets him with a nod.

    "Yeah. A light in the darkness I am not. Pretty much the opposite really. But... he wanted me to try, and I owe him at least that much. Hell, I want to try too, Gar. I... that's all this is. Trying. I'm... I really don't know how you..." she shakes her head, lowers it and steps inside.

    Colette finds herself a seat with that typical self-confident bearing that she generally seems to carry herself with, that total absence of awkwardness at being in a completely new environment, but there are obvious hints that her self-confidence in other aspects is a little eroded today. She's having trouble meeting Gar's eyes, and looks at a loss for what to say.

    She folds her hands in her laps and sighs again. "I don't... I don't think I can do this, Gar. I want to. I want to be a better friend to you than I have been, but I don't... I don't know how to process this. I'm too new at... I don't... I don't understand why..."

    She gives another heavy sigh, lowers her face into her hands and slowly runs her hands up her face and through her hair, taking a deep breath. "I'm not a bad person, Gar. I just... have different perspectives, and it's hard to understand things sometimes. I don't... none of this makes sense to me, Gar. None of it. But if he saw something in me that made it... made me worth consdering a friend, at least give me a chance. Please?"

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan locks the door behind him, but only after scanning the porch with a frown. "They said they dropped it off.." he mutters to himself, pulling out his phone to let the service know there was nothing there. In just those few seconds, his phone tries to alert him to numerous messages, texts, phone calls, you name it. "Stop bothering me," he tells the thing, turning it off afterward.

If she's struggling to meet his eyes, she doesn't have to try very hard. He's gone to the kitchen, digging around for some leftovers from a container of Chinese food he hadn't finished off yet. He acts like she isn't even there, except for her talking. Near the seat she takes up is a couch with a couple blankets on it, looking suspiciously like someone had burrowed into them previously.

"How I do it? How I can go around smiling all the time? Am I smiling right now, Colette?" he asks her, his voice still holding that edge between tired and annoyed. "Maybe you can't be a better friend. I don't think I ever got you, but you insisted there was something bigger out there that mattered. I was foolish enough to believe you. I fought to pull the Titans back together, and now the guy I just told the world I'm in love with is gone, and so are three more people I would have given up everything for."

He stares at the nearly empty container of food, chucks it behind him where it lands in the trash, a perfect shot. "So, share your wisdom with me, please."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Colette gives a shake of her head that Gar won't see. "No. Not smiling. How do you... how do you do any of it, Gar? You're a couple of years younger than I am. You've had less time than me, but it comes naturally to you. I don't know how to react. I don't understand... fuck."

    "That thing at the museum, Gar? I thought... it made sense. It /did/ make sense. All the... all the tick boxes. My solution was... all the things that you're supposed to be fighting for, about saving people, about doing the least harm, about preserving lives. I came up with a solution that maximized the outcome in the most efficient way properly, and you and Terry just..." she shrugs her shoulders. "I was wrong. Because of... because of some abstract concept that doesn't... I don't even /know/. How do /you/ just know? How do you... how could you both just instantly know like hey, no that's the wrong way to do it even though it achieves the goals best? Where does this information come from? I /don't understand!/"

    The final words come out almost anguished, a plea to the universe for explanation. Colette buries her face in her hands again, and this time doesn't uncover it.

    She continues, her voice slightly muffled now. "I thought I understood grief. I should do. I've experienced it... I mean she did. Kal'at Varr. The person who I was before I was Colette. I mean the person who became part of me. It's complicated. Back on Ma'aleca'ndra, I... she... lost friends, colleagues, loved ones. I remember that. Her memories. Her losses, her grief. But this... it's not the same."

    " I don't think I ever cried before yesterday, Gar. Not... not /me/. She did. It's not the same. I don't... I don't want him to be dead."

    "It makes no /sense/! Everyone dies. There's no... I keep thinking about... about things like what we might have... things he didn't say, things we didn't do. And that makes no /sense/. How can you regret something that hasn't happened, that has no reality? But she did too. Kal'at. I don't.... I don't think I /have/ any wisdom, Gar."

Gar Logan has posed:
"Because the good guys are supposed to know that the easiest thing that makes the most sense isn't always the best way to do it," Gar answers quietly. "They're not supposed to take shortcuts."

This is just something he's come to know and believe in, that sometimes doing things the so-called right way won't always be the easiest way, or the path with the least resistance. How does he know that? He just does. Maybe it's an experience thing.

However, he grows increasingly quiet and troubled by much of what Colette begins to say. It also leads to a massively confused look on his face. "/You're/ not making any sense right now. I don't even know what you're talking about. Malewhat? Who is Kal'at Varr?" He has never seen Colette like this. Half the time, he could barely even figure her out. Now, he'd be lucky if that only dipped to a quarter of the time.

"I've barely /stopped/ crying since..."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Ma'aleca'ndra. Mars," Colette clarifies. "There's a whole bunch of crap I haven't told you, Gar. Or Terry. I... I wanted to, but it isn't easy for me. None of that's important now though, is it?"

    She lowers one hand from her face, and pinches the bridge of her nose with the other hand. She sits like that a few moments, then sits back, head raised and staring at the ceiling. "All I can think about is... that I encouraged him. Except that's stupid, because it's what he wanted to do. But I feel... I feel guilty, like it's... like he wouldn't have died if he didn't... you know. Because I'm sure you're feeling the same. And I keep thinking... thinking /stupid/ things like how he made me laugh, and how much he loved Giorgio's, and how I'll never get to eat one of his tiramisus again, and none of it even matters but I can't stop /thinking/ about it. And I don't understand why. It's not /FAIR/."

    Colette draws in a ragged breath and for a while it looks like she's about to start crying, but she eventually manages to get it under control. She breathes slowly and deeply a few times, gathering herself.

    "He's right though, about you. Isn't he? That you're feeling lonely and lost. 'All alone in the world, because it feels like nobody can reach you'. That was how he put it. Well I do understand that Gar. Better than he thinks I do, because he doesn't understand what I was before Kal'at. So... so that's why I'm here, even if I don't have any great wisdom to share. Because someone's gotta try to reach you, and I'm going to try. For his sake, and for your sake. And for my sake too."

Gar Logan has posed:
This news does not do much to settle any of Gar's confusion. "Mars?" he asks, his brows tightening as he frowns. This is not something he's ready for, not right now. Too much to process. Fine. She's from Mars. She had another name, or lived a past life, or...something. Is it such a great surprise, given what Terry became?

Ah, Terry. "Colette, don't."

He paces just like an animal as she goes into some of the things about him she's reminded of, and it makes him want to think about certain things as well, but he doesn't want to think about them or anything else right now, because it doesn't matter. He's not coming back. He told Gar about a few people he could talk to, like April, but it hasn't clicked yet.

Suddenly, the pacing stops and there's a growl from the other side of the kitchen counter, a bar style. His face has become a mix of feline and human, darker stripes taking form along his arms, presumably elsewhere as well, hidden by clothing and the bar itself. "Don't you get it? What he liked doesn't matter anymore, because he's fucking gone! He's gone and he's not coming back, and he liked me enough to want to know me, and help me, and I wanted to help him too, and I wanted the Titans back, and I wanted to feel like we could be ourselves again, that everything would be better, and..and /this/ wouldn't happen again, but it did and he's gone and so is Vic and Donna and Caitlin because I couldn't let something die off without fighting for it again because I'm stupid and selfish!" he roars, the partly feline visage showing his anger, but from the sound of it the anger is directed at none other than Gar Logan himself.

But, it's something. It's emotion, and it suggests there's still something in there that might be worth clinging to, whether he says it in a misguided way or not, whether he gets it on his own or needs help to see it.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Now you're sounding like me, Gar," Colette says unreasonably. "That's how I see things. The moment passed, the sparrow in the mead-hall." Yeah, she's doing a good job of making this less confusing - Gar probably hasn't read Bede. "You're supposed to be the one who knows how to human. Isn't that your special skill? Heart of the Titans, and all that?"

    She puffs out her cheeks and lowers her head again, not looking at Gar. Apparently she isn't expecting feline-Gar to attack. "He'd have disagreed with everything you just said, and you know it. You know how /happy/ he was? 'Cos you two were terrible at communicating your feelings to each other, so there's a good chance that you don't. He didn't think you were selfish. He thought you gave him the world. He loved you. He loved the Titans. He was living his dream, and you gave that all to him. And he was... he was a good person. Hell, anyone who can put up with me probably is half way to being a saint."

    She looks up again, and this time she does seek to find Gar's eyes. "I know you got a message too, Gar. You saw it. That was someone facing the possibility that he was going to die. Someone who'd just had a scare, just realized for the first time that being a Titan meant that it was a distinct possibility. And when he realized that, what did he do? What was his instinct? To decide it was a bad idea, and nope out of it? No. It was to try and find a way to deal with it. To make sure the people he left behind were looked after. Mine was all... stick with what you're trying to do, Colette. Be the person you're trying to be rather than the person you fear you are, all that kinda crap. And I bet whatever was in yours, it was pretty much... don't blame yourself. Don't withdraw. Don't do all the things you're currently doing."

    "But... you're right. He's dead. So does it matter what he thought? I don't know, Gar." She shakes her head slowly. "I just don't... but I know he thought it did. 'Words matter', right? 'Cos words can change the world, and words live on. I know he'd have hoped that those words he left us made a difference. I just... I think that's worth... giving him the... just worth considering."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan is all hiss and spit right now, proverbially if not literally. Low growls, the impression of ears flattened and turned back - which they do given the partial change. It's something new for him, as if he's stuck between going all the way through with the change and stopping midway, creating a were-tiger sort of look. It fits. He's annoyed, angry, but frightened, distraught.

And he's blaming himself.

It's a natural thing to do, a /human/ thing to do. People second-guess themselves, they get into what-if scenarios. What if I never met him? What if I just told him to go away the first time, that this life was too dangerous for him? What if we never became friends, became lovers? What if, what if, what if.

And yet, Colette has the right of it. Everything Terry/Vorpal had, he adored. He was where he seemed to want to be, with who he wanted to be.

The traces of the tiger fade away, leaving behind the Gar she saw when she arrived, and now he's the one who avoids eye contact after briefly crossing paths with hers. This is because he rests his head over his arms, folded across the top of the bar. "Don't want to talk about messages," he murmurs, his voice cracking. And yet he says, "He called me his hero..told me not to give up, not to go back to where I did the last time. But it hurts so much, every time, and it's happened so many times." He's not even twenty yet, not even old enough to legally drink.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "That's pretty much the same as what he said to me," Colette admits. She smirks slightly, gives a shake of her head. "I suspect there were one or two difference... I mean I /hope/ there were. But yeah. Don't give up, don't go back. And you know what my first reaction was? Same as yours. He's gone. Why does it matter what he wanted?"

    Another long sigh. "I thought about... first thing that came into my head. You know. Find out who did it, and... of course that was really dumb, given the whole invasion thing. It's just... that's where my mind went. And you know what Vorpal would have said about that. He'd have said it did matter, because it wasn't about who said it, it was about whether the words that were said were true or not."

     "Words matter, huh. Same old Terry." Colette looks down again. "He said... he said... 'doesn't matter if something is gone, it only matters if it meant something.' Something like that." Did she memorize his whole message? "So... I guess it's down to us, Gar. You and me. Whether we take him at his word on that. Did Terry matter? 'Cos if it did, we can't just pretend the words he said weren't spoken. We have to... to..." Suddenly she looks /really/ miserable. "To... remember them.

Gar Logan has posed:
"There were," Gar mumbles again. Of course there were differences in Terry's messages. "They just..there was this huge flash, right as they tried to come back, and then there was nothing. I don't know how anyone could have..lived."

Some out there can do remarkable, amazing things, but none of the four could survive being ripped to pieces, or lost to the void of space, if that's what happened. It's not like coming back from a bullet wound.

"I just don't know if I can do this any more, no matter what he said, or what you say, or anyone else. I want to have hope, but I know what I saw," he explains. Whatever words mean, whatever 'don't give up' means, whatever shared thing there is now between Gar and Colette, both of them have been hit in the gut by this.

It wasn't the best time to mention Mars, or a past life. Normally, Gar would be super curious about that and have tons of questions to ask. This is not that time.

"Of course he mattered. I have an..empty place in me..for all of them, but him the most."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    Had Terry not gone and done something foolish like dying, Colette would have found the time soon to explain things like Mars to Gar in a sane, calm and rational fashion. It's because of that fact that she was willing to blurt that stuff out this time, but it's not meant to be an explanation. It's just a reaction. Explanations can happen later, but it's hard /not/ to touch on that just a little bit more.

    "He believed in the Titans," she said. "I... had hopes for the Titans. They were... Ah fuck, it's hard to explain. The whole thing about perspectives. I just saw... I saw something in you guys that isn't there in the other teams. A potential. On Ma'ale... on Mars, there's a... there used to be a... fuck it. Doesn't matter now."

    "Gar... I can't... maybe I'm not as good at words as Terry, or maybe I just have more damn common sense than he did. But I can't say you're wrong. I'm not gonna tell you that the Titans need you and you need to pick yourself up and get the fuck on with it, because... that's not me. But... you've got to do /something/. And this isn't it. Whether it's going back to the Titans or something else, just... he died. You don't have to, okay?"

    Colette huffs, and stands up suddenly. She walks aimlessly across the room to stare out of a window. "I may be a crappy friend, Gar. But I'm trying. So..." her shoulders hunch up into a vague shrug. "I'm not even sure what I'm trying to say, that's how bad at this I am. Just... I don't know. If you need a crappy friend, I'm here. Or whatever."

Gar Logan has posed:
Gar Logan had set his phone down nearby. It draws a look of scrutiny. With it, that was his connection to...everything. People. Friends. Strangers through social media, which he deactivated as soon as he got to the safehouse, before the world knew of their loss. He neither needed nor wanted condolences from people he didn't really know. He didn't want to deal with the trolls out there who would have something nasty to say. By going where he did right away, it showed he wasn't even ready to handle it with the rest of the team.

He fled and hid like a wounded animal.

But, animals heal. People heal, as well. They might not be the same afterward, there might be some part of them that never fully recovers, but they usually get better enough to function again. He looks up, even if it's only his tired, lost green eyes above his green arms, but he watches Colette, studies her. "I don't know what I believe in anymore, if the Titans even need me. They were there before me." But how many of the original ones are still left now? Half?

What if Gar never came back?

What if Gar never met Terry?

What if Gar never pushed to get people back together?

What if the Titans never recruited new members?

Would someone else have stopped the fleet in space? Stopped the War World? Surely the League would have done something, or the Avengers. Someone would have filled the gap.

Or maybe, just maybe, this part was something unique to the Titans and nobody else. Perhaps the world would be nothing more than a memory instead of saved.

"I don't understand all of this, but...I think I need to watch the video again, just to see him, and hear him, and maybe find something I missed before," he supposes, wiping the palm of his hand across his eyes. The lack of sleep has him looking almost delirious, definitely fatigued. "You tried, and that's something."

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    "Yeah, I tried." Colette nods her heads slightly in agreement, but she's still staring out the window at nothing. "That's what I do. Try." The words might sound like a typical super-hero pep talk, but there's far too much cynicism in her voice for it to be that. "That's me. My whole life. It's about trying. Trying to... be me. To be something that I wasn't before, because maybe, just maybe, that was a good idea. Right now, Gar? It doesn't fucking feel like it."

    Colette turns back from the window to face Gar. "I've seen a lot of crap, Gar. More than... well. The Titans have done a lot. And that's just the past. That first time I met you, when I said the Titans was important? That didn't change. But I was thinking...." she shakes her head. "Years ahead. Centuries ahead. You want to talk about that one day, then... Well. It's not important now. And it doesn't have to involve you. You're... you're not the Titans. You don't owe this planet a future. You're Gar, and that's the only thing you need to be. So I'm not gonna try pushing you one way or the other. Nobody can say what's right for Gar except Gar. Not even Terry. But Gar isn't exactly thinking straight right now, you know? So... Well. You know."

    Colette looks down at the floor and shuffles uneasily. "Okay. I guess you want me out of here. And looking at that video again, probably a smart idea. But... Gar. You've got my number. You can... you know. If you don't I ain't promising I won't come hunt you down again, and I'm really good at doing that if I need to. Used to be my job. Kinda. So... probably best if you at least send me a text from time to time letting me know you're okay. Cos otherwise it'll get really annoying."

Gar Logan has posed:
"M'mean..y'tried..n'tha's nice. Y'care," Gar murmurs, and as he looks toward Colette again, his eyes can barely remain open enough to focus on her. "But..yeah."

They've had that chat before, about what history might recall of the Titans a hundred, two hundred years down the line, if not more. It's true, he isn't thinking straight. He isn't thinking much at all just this moment.

How would Colette know that? Because by the time she's talking about getting out of here, promising to track his green ass down if he doesn't check in with her, he's slumping to the floor of the kitchen, a snore rising.

Should she do anything about that before she leaves, a check of the door will show it's keyed to touch, to certain prints. Someone could leave, and if they forget to lock the door it will do so fifteen seconds later.

Colette O'Connail has posed:
    There's no question he needed it. Even Colette's not questioning that.

    When Gar does finally awaken, he will find him on the couch, with a sheet over him, and his phone beside his head just as a reminder he was going to watch that video again. The place is even a bit tidier than it had been, though only a bit because Colette's not that domestic. At least the empty food packaging has gone.

    She does care.

    It's also not totally impossible she'll have taken his fingerprints, but we can at least pretend that hasn't happened.