Owner	Pose
Terry O'Neil	It has been a year and a half. The light turns on in the kitchen. It is late. The apartment is silent, as it usually is nowadays. A messenger bag is thrown on the kitchen table, landing with a soft 'flop'. The fridge opens. Leftovers are cold, they are consumed just as they are, and the television is turned on but not watched, it exists solely to fill the silence. A year and a half ago, but it still feel like yesterday. The day the Titans ceased to be- or at least, the day the Titans ceased to be for him. There are probably messages on his phone. Feet up on the coffee table, he stares past the television, but his eyes are on the window. Outside, a chill wind rises, unseasonable in this summer night.
Kian	Cold.     Kian notices that first, even though he's accustomed to being able to wrap himself in a cocoon of infrared and just ignore it when the weather is... less than optimal.     Somehow or another, though, this cold cuts right through.     He circles the building a few times.  Earth buildings are blocky, unimaginative, imposed on the environment rather than insinuated into it.     Even so, he has some reason to like this building.  It's where Terry /tenar'h/ calls home, when he's not at the Tower.     Even if the rooms are small and the whole building, if hollowed out, would only just barely suffice one or two birds.     Three at a push.     He drops quietly, nearly silently onto a window frame, where he just perches a while, watching Terry watch a different window.     Something...     ...feels like it's missing.
Terry O'Neil	Little by little, the focus comes back to the signal from the television. Some eerie synth music, accompanied by a plaintive soprano: ~I must have lit my seventh cigarette at half past two And at the time I never even noticed I was blue I must have kept on dragging through the business of the day Without really knowing anything, I hid a part of me away~ Snapping out of the stupor, Terry reaches for the remote and turns off the TV. Food half-eaten, he stands up and he lets out a quiet breath. Without noticing Kian, he begins to walk towards the bedroom. The lights in the kitchen shut off and the light in the corridor turns on as he walks down. As he vanishes into the corridor, the television turns back on of its own accord, unnoticed by the redhead. It seems to show the live feed from a boardwalk, with a famliar green figure walking down it, looking into his phone. And then there is another green figure appearing in the frame. A winged one.
Kian	Kian is about to follow to the bedroom window when a flicker of activity from the TV catches his attention.     Which is odd, because Terry definitely turned it off.     Well, dreams are weird that way, and Kian feels a warm sense as he realizes it's Gar.  He's accustomed to dreams being an odd mix of the reasonable and the unusual.  That's just the way dreams work, no matter how much practice you have having them and sharing them.     The warm feeling drains away like a plug in his stomach was pulled when he realizes what this scene is.  Without even thinking about it, he steps through the window -- was it open?  Did he slide it open himself?  Does it matter? -- and flits across the room to the TV, reaching out to try to pull Gar out of it, away from what happened...     ...to make up for not having been there when he was needed.
Terry O'Neil	Instead of pulling Gar out, the television screen seems to grow and grow to the point that it appears to take the entire height and width of the room. It's almost like being there. It happens suddenly, just as Gar was pulling out his phone. A flash of motion out of the corner of an eye, talons cutting across the side of his face to leave deep cuts that immediately bled. Dropping the phone, Gar spins away as a hand darted to his cheek, coming up red as the gashes sent a surge of pain through his head, causing his eyes to go wide. Another few centimeters and it could have taken his sight. "What the hell?" Just as Gar prepares to shift, the hawk beats him to it, landing on him as a bear with a sickening thud, driving him into the sand. It softened the impact to some extent but it still knocks the breath out of him, proven by the gasp that follows. And then, that massive bear paw comes up. As it comes down, blood splatters and leaves a trail of blood across the glass as Gar's scream echoes through the boardwalk.
Kian	"TERRY!"     Has Terry turned his back on this past?  *Is* it the past?     Philosophy has always given Kian a headache.  Whether past or present, if it's possible to save Gar from suffering, he's got to try.  Why do dreams always have to be so damn slippery?     "*TERRY*!"     He lunges for the real Gar, our Gar, to try to pull him away from the other Gar, the wrong Gar.  Seeing it in Gar's dream, as he did, was one thing, but somehow this is more intense.     "Terry, for FUCK'S SAKE!"     Someone has spent too much -- or just enough? -- time around Vic, it seems.
Terry O'Neil	Kian isn't fast enough. The bear swipes a massive paw across Gar's chest, tearing through his clothing and drawing more blood, along with a sharp cry. "Stop! Whoever you are..!" Gar's arms come up but they were quickly shredded by more clawing and biting, before the bear morphs into a tiger. Blood falls. Rain falls over a sea of umbrellas. Terry is by Kian's side, dressed in black from head to toe. So are the other Titans- even Victor, somber and imposing, his jovial nature completely absent. The Titans stand side by side, silent except for those who can't stifle their emotions- like Terry, a hand pressed against his mouth. There is no coffin for Garfield Logan. There was no body. But there is a bust to mark his headstone, made with loving attention to detail. Someone drones on. Perhaps it is a priest. Or a secular speaker. Memory is hazy, like everything around Terry right now. Eventually people leave- even the Titans have to leave. At the end it is only Terry and Kian standing under the umbrella. It is also a year and a half past, already. There is no rain. It is evening, and the graveyard is quiet. Only Terry seems to be there, in the distance, standing by a familiar bust. "... I couldn't save you." His hands rest upon the bust's head, the redhead's own head lowered. "I couldn't save the Titans. I failed all of you. And I miss you." That's right. There are no Titans. The tower, visible from this distance, is dark, not a single light shining from within.
Kian	"No, this isn't right.  This isn't what happened," Kian says firmly, defiantly.  "This is wrong.  I know this is wrong."  He spins around and grabs Terry by the shoulders.  "And *you* know this is wrong.  I can show you.  This is not what happened.  Gar did not die.  /Our/ Gar did not die."     He doesn't shake Terry by the shoulders, but it's a near thing.     Quite peremptorily, he says, "/Look/ at me, /Teri Onil tenar'h/.  Look into my *mind*."     He remembers.     He remembers Terry training with Harley, because the cat couldn't resist himself.  Well, okay, fair enough.     Coney Island.  Pandora's Box.  The stairs in Tartarus.  Lots of pizza.  Themiscyra.  Kian's world.  Kian's friends and family.  Even Garshire.     "/Remember/..."
Terry O'Neil	Remember. "It's not unusual for people who have undergone a traumatic event to form false memories. Delusions. It is a way for the mind to protect itself." The voice is warm, reassuring. Kian is in a room. By all means, it is a nice and comfortable room, with sunlight streaming through the windows- it is almost large enough to be comfortable for him. The only strange thing about it is the large mirror on one end of the room. It is from there that the voices are coming. The first voice had been a woman's. The next voice, is Terry's. "Oh god... no." His voice is frail, tired. "Can you help him?" "I don't know. Your boyfriend comes from another world. There are distinct cultural differences... I am not entirely sure if our treatments will be effective." Silence for a few seconds. Clearly, this is not a conversation Kian should have been privy to. Some malfunction was broadcasting it from across the mirror. "Please try, doctor. We're all we have since- since-" Terry's voice catches. A few seconds later, the female voice speaks, softly. "I know." She speaks again. "You must not fight his delusion. For now. Eventually, he must come to grips with the reality that- of what happened." Something darkens the window outside. A muffled scream. A greend hand presses against the window, and leaves a trail of blood down as the arm moves down. The shape of a tiger looms- then it is gone, nothing more than a shadow made by the trees outside, the trail of blood nothing more than the red light of the approaching sunset sparkling off the glass. Strangely enough, Terry's mind feels close enough. But it feels split- not the way it is when he is the Cheshire- it's almost like there is something under him- a shadow, an echo. The door into the room finally opens, and Terry walks in. He looks gaunt, with bags under his eyes and skin paler than usual, red hair disheveled. "Hey, hon," he says quietly, as the door closes behind him.
Kian	"Terry /tenar'h/."     Kian tries to sit up a little, but it's difficult, like being in a medunit in his estate on Kyshan, all drugged and groggy and not in a fun way.  "Nnh.  Tell me I wasn't stupid enough to go flying in a supercell cloud again."     Again?  Well, so much for Kian being the sensible one.     "Where's Gar /tenar'h/?"
Terry O'Neil	"Gar is-" There is a hitch in Terry's voice and his eyes glisten for a moment, then he shakes his head and he walks over to Kian, reaching for his hands. "Honey... we have to talk." Terry is physically strong. He's an athlete, even when he's not the cat. But right now he looks positively small and frail, As if shrinking into himself. Even his bright red hair is dull in color, as if color were washing out of him. "I've talked... I mean, we talked and... because of things that happened, we think it's best if... you spend a little time here. To rest and recover... and destress." He squeezes Kian's hands, blinking back tears. "I'll come and visit every day. It's just like a... retreat. A rest. Where you can talk to some good people. To help." A hand reaches out to stroke Kian's cheeks. Terry's cheeks are damp. "Just for a little while. To make sure you're okay. I can't... I don't have the resources..." his voice trails off. There is someone outside, approaching the door.
Kian	"There's nothing wrong with me!" Kian insists, reaching clumsily to grab Terry's hand.  While it's not his way to force himself into someone else's mind, this is different.  This is something he needs to *know*.     "Where.  Is.  Gar?" he demands, staring into Terry's green eyes.
Terry O'Neil	Gar is dead. The thought hits like a ton of bricks. Did Terry say it, or did it come out of his mouth? It's hard enough to know. But it is delivered with the total pain and heartbreak that is shaking the young man. This is a soul at the verge of collapse. The door opens, and a woman appears. She is attired in a cream outfit, comforting and motherly, although she does not look much older than Donna. There is a passing resemblance to Donna, except her nose is more aquiline, her features sharper. "Terry... it's time," she says quietly. Terry nods slowly, "Y-yes, Doctor. Kian..." But then something happens. Something within Kian jolts, and the world almost feels like it has skipped a frame in its reel, because suddenly the woman is closer. She offers a hand to Kian. "Kian, it is a pleasure. Terry has told me so much about you. I am Dr. Tana..." she glances at Kian, and then says,"Did Terry ever get around to showing you 'The Wizard of Oz'?"
Kian	"Zardoz?" Kian repeats numbly, not much after 'Gar' and 'dead' having filtered through.     Then the words come tumbling out, quickly, almost incoherently.  "Tana /q'Syr/, I think something is terribly wrong, Terry /tenar'h/ seems to think Gar /tenar'h/ is dead, and..."     Kian stares at her.     Kian stares at Terry, as if expecting to see black-and-white wings sprouting from his shoulders.     Kian stares at Tana again.     "WHAT DID YOU SAY?"
Terry O'Neil	Wizard of Oz Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain. What /is/ behind that curtain, Kian? The curtains on the window sway, but there is no wind blowing. They eventually close, and open again. The world seems to be curdling around them, as if fighting the image being shown. It's Terry. It isn't a dream, it's a memory. It's something that /has/ happened. Kian remembers it. It happened TONIGHT. "I'm going to take this back into the vault," Terry says, holding the box that houses The Regalia, open as it is to show the wondrous items, "There's no point in having it in the open until we find the Red Ki-" And that's where it happened. Terry slipped on a puddle of water that he hadn't noticed, spilled forth from a glass Gar had knocked over as he leapt onto the bed to go to sleep. Kian was on the other side of the room, not close enough to grab him. Terry managed not to fall, however, but the box tilted. The crown stayed where it was, but the scepter fell out. Until it was caught by Terry. Human, non-Wonderland-infused Terry. "I've got it!" He whews and puts the scepter back into the box. "I'll be right back. Keep an eye on him," he winks and nods in Gar's direction. "Don't let him hog the covers." The curtains close. And the world resumes. "Kian?" Terry says, looking at the Akiar with concern in his eyes.
Kian	Kian flits across the room, ignoring Terry, and gently puts his hand on Garshire's shoulder.     There's a quiet "Ki-ai!" and a very silly grin, and Kian pulls his hand away.     He carefully backs out of the bed so as to not wake up Gar, and when Terry returns, the part time cat will find himself all but tackled by the little birdman.     Although he doesn't make full mental contact, he can't help radiating happiness and satisfaction.     It's hard to tell for sure, what with the Akiar's face buried in Terry's shoulder, but it almost sounds like he's saying, "I knew it, I knew it all along, I knew it...."
Terry O'Neil	"Knew? Knew what?" Terry asks. He still looks as worn and exhausted as when he made his entrance into the room. "Honey, you've got... you've got to calm down." And there it was. In contact with Terry after seeing that memory, Kian could finally feel the tendrils. They are all over this dream, surrounding them and encroaching, trying to shut the light out, to suffocate. An oppressive mass of it is centered right over Terry's chest, and it exerts its own kind of gravitational pull. The room itself is growing darker and darker, and the doctor seems to be gone. The only point of light, where light seems to actually be coming through, is the mirror. The looking-glass. "You're going to have to... stay here for a while, Kian," Terry says in his quiet, broken voice at the verge of exaustion and tears.
Kian	"I'm fine, I'm fine, everything's fine, you're here, Gar's here, I'm here, this is /correct/," Kian says without explaining.  He glances back at the sleeping green cat.  "Even if you do share the Cheshire now, that's fine too."     He places his three-fingered hand on Terry's chest, over his heart, and gently turns him so the mirror is not in his line of sight.     And he begins to glow very gently, that blue aura he sometimes gets, pretty sky blue, not bright, but defying the darkness, there can *be* no darkness so long as Kian commands the light.
Terry O'Neil	And as Kian's light expands, the tendrils begin to recede away from Terry's chest. "K-Kian, what are you doing?" the redhead says, looking frightened as the bird-man begins to deploy his powers, "Are you trying to hurt me?" Had grief driven the little bird man too far? The question doesn't get an answer- doesn't need one- as the darkness around the room deepends, except for where Kian's aura expands. And the mirror. By now, it is shining so brightly that it might as well be a window into the outside world. For a moment, everything grows dark, leaving Kian and Terry in darkness, silhouetted against the light. And then the mirror cracks from side to side, and eveything is darkness. Everyhing is darkness because Terry has just opened his eyes, and he sits bolt upright in the bed, damp with sweat, cheeks damp with tears, and his hands pressed against his mouth to stop the strangled sob that almost comes out of him as the dream still clings to the edges of his consciousness before finally ebbing away, the reality of a wing over him on one side and a green, sleeping body on the other slowly but surely asserting itself.
Kian	"I would never hurt you," Kian says, or thinks.  It's difficult to tell.  Wings fold around Terry, bringing a comforting and familiar sort of darkness -- except for that gentle blue glow.     And then it's dark.     But the wings, or *a* wing, is still there.     "mmnnnh?"     Kian is a bit more coherent when his mind connects.  {/Terry?/}  His arm curls around the redhead; the rest of him remains flat on the mattress.  {/I think you had an unfortunate dream.  I got tangled up in it myself/.}
Terry O'Neil	Terry's heart-rate is still high, but it slowly begins to go down. The comforting touch from Kian helps with that, and the mind-touch. "... I dreamt that we- that Gar was..." a quick glance shows that his dream was just that, and only that. He lays back down against Kian's embrace, one hand reaching out to gently stroke Gar's hair without waking him. He resists the urge to pull both of them close to him, but the urge is there. {/I hope you both know just how much you mean to me.../} he says, taking a breath and closing his eyes. {/Gods, I never want to have that dream again... I don't know why I had to have it... /}
Kian	{/Because nightmares prey on your fears, not on your realities/,} Kian 'sends, snuggling up closer, spreading his wing slightly to ensure both Gar and Terry are covered.  {/I fell into it pretty badly myself.  Usually I have better control than that... well, you know, you've dreamed with me before/.}  Gar's post-attack therapy flicks briefly through his mind.     He rouses himself enough to actually speak, softly.  "If you are in a place where Gar or I or both of us don't exist, you're in a place that isn't real.  Gar is real.  I am real.  You..."     Kian grins, and kisses the tip of Terry's nose.  "...are surreal.  But we like you that way."
Terry O'Neil	"Right..." Terry breathes. "Just a dream..." He kisses Kian's nose back and tries to get back to sleep, slowing down his breathing as best he can. "Just... felt like there was... someone else, too..." He closes his eyes and sighs. Eventually, he is snoring again.