Whilst they waited, Gar took the bandages off his other hand and feet, and quickly scribbled a sign for the door.
'Sorry! Break room in use. Thank you for your understanding~ Garfield Dayton'
"You had bandages on, but you look fine..." Vic pointed out as he watched Gar dump the wrappings in a medical waste bin.
"Oh, yeah. I think mysterious voice lady healed me..." The words came out faster then he had hoped, and he could hear David and Craig.
Gar, careful. When people talk about hearing voices, they end up scaring people.
I concur, save it for therapy, buddy. Don't freak the guy out.
Vic looked at him, wide eyed with his mouth slightly open.
"I mean... Um. That is to say... what I meant is. ...I got nothing, just don't freak out..." Gar stammered, his hands moving in all directions.
"This voice..." Vic started. "Was it... kinda creepy... and slow... and wavery?"
"Oh.. um, yeah..."
"... I think she healed me, too..."
Well, that was unexpected.
They sat back down on the floor and tried to piece together the scraps of information they had.
"OK. So, um, did you, like, have any weird dreams? Or stuff? About, maybe... a shiny white palace looking place?" As he thought about it, Gar rested his right hand on his left arm, at the inside of his elbow, and rubbed up to his shoulder and down again.
"Well... yeah. And I think I was seeing it from that girl's view. And some damn crazy shit happened. Like, I looked at my hands and they were, I'm assuming, hers. And they had shackles on. And I remember this god awful part after where, like, I was in some medical room, strapped down, and my heart was just fighting to keep going and I couldn't breath."
Gar let out a strange noise like he was trying to laugh. He held his arm tighter, trying not to focus on the scars beneath his jacket. He suddenly felt very aware of his breathing.
Victor carried on talking. "... I think something was being injected into me... There were these, like, drip bags that you see in the hospital shows. It was all, Beep Beep Beep. I thought I was gonna die... Did you see that one?" Gar didn't reply. "Um, dude?"
Vic looked over and saw Gar cross legged, blinking and moving his head slightly. His breathing was heavy and he was clutching his left arm.
"Oh, woah, are you OK?" Vic asked, not sure what to do. "You got something in your eye?"
Gar let out another strange noise as his blinking became quicker and tighter.
He then forced a sentence out. "I, I, I'm sorry if I turn into sm- t- something. I, I wont hurt you."
What do I do? Do I get help? Vic thought, standing up. For a moment he tried to process what the kid meant, and then remembered he was talking to Beast Boy, who turns into animals. Turn into something? Turn into WHAT? Wont hurt me? Uncertainty consumed him as he stepped backwards.
Gar was muttering in a different language, and then Vic heard another unusual voice.
New language detected. French. New language detected. Swahili.
It sounded like the voice from a satnav; emotionless and patched together. But he could suddenly understand what Garfield was saying
"5 things you see, 5 things you see, Gar. Come on. Table... Floor tile, Door... Chair... um, wrapper... Now, touch 4 things. Jacket. Skin. Touch the floor...You're OK. I'm OK. Just, touch the floor. And. And. And. Hair. Hair works..."Do I leave him? Is he OK?
"3 things you smell, that's easy! Jasmine, Skittles and Coffee! 2 things you hear. You're own voice, and that fridge. And I still taste the candy. OK. OK. 2 times in one day is enough. We don't need a third time. Oh my god, I've freaked you out so much! I'm sorry, Vic."
"Oh! Oh, no, don't worry about me, you were going through something, I'm not sure what, but it looked... intense..."
"I know. I know." He let out a nervous laugh. "I guess, yeah, you might as well know that, um, well, the um, the- the- the- That one was my dream... I guess.. More like... um, flashback." He laughed again and was visibly paler, despite the green skin.
Vic stepped forward. "Oh... Oh god... Why?!"
Garfield looked up and vaguely gestured at his face. Both his skin and hair were green, his ears were pointed, a single, sharp snaggle-tooth jutted over his top lip on his left side, and his eyes were almost completely bright yellow, except for a splodge of light blue in the left one.
"I, um... I wasn't born this way. Things to do with needles and, um, medical stuff... well... they remind me of... heh, you saw for yourself.."
"PTSD?"
"Among other stuff... Lucky me... But HAY! I successfully grounded myself! Yay!" Gar held his hands up in celebration. Inside his mind was a mass of emotional noise that was slowly settling down. Craig and David were exhausted, but had somehow prevented the system from being taken over by someone with similar trauma. They knew Garfield needed to feel a semblance of control, and that turning into a leopard in front of Victor wasn't what they needed. Everyone could have their turn, just not now, not here. "Back to the mystery woman! I saw Dick's room, at the motel. Or, I guess I smelt it..."
"Oh, um, yeah. I saw that, too." Vic decided to roll with it. He was already responsible for making the kid cry, and causing him to have some form of panic attack. He wasn't going to mention anything else, unless Gar talked about it first.
"And, I smelt you. I know, because..." Craig spoke up. No more, Garfield! No more. Just, stop there... please... "Never mind. I just know it was you. So we have my shit, your shit, Robins motel room, the spooky voice lady who I think is-DICK'S HERE!"
Victor blinked in confusion. A green dog was now barking at the door, its thin tail wagging frantically from side to side. It still had Gar's jacket on, and Vic noticed the pants had a slit in the back for the dog's tail.
"Um... Garfield?" Vic asked, stepping towards the dog.
The handle went down and the door opened, so Vic stepped back. In came a guy wearing full motor bike gear. He was hugging a large paper bag under his right arm and holding the 4 drinks in their carrier in the same hand. His left hand, which had opened the door and had a tote bag dangling from it, was now occupied with the dog.
"Garfield!" he demanded, snapping his fingers. "Garfield, sit!"
The dog obediently sat down, its tongue sticking out and its tail still going side to side.
The guy put the drinks and bags on the closet table, and then pulled off the helmet.
Has he not noticed me, or is he ignoring me? Vic thought.
Despite the messy, black hair and the red marks from the helmet, the guy was obviously good looking.
"OK, Gar. Come here!" He told the dog, rubbing his gloved hands on it's head. "You're excited to see me, aren't you? I know, I know. Do you smell this?" Dick pulled a teal and green box out of the tote bag and shook it, causing the dog to howl. "Garfield. Sit." The dog sat, and was rewarded with a biscuit. "Talk." Again, the dog made a small howling noise, and got a biscuit. "Garfield. Switch..."
Slowly, the dog turned back into a human. Dick pulled off the gloves, grabbed a chair, and proceeded to undo his bike boots. By the time he was done, Garfield was sat on the floor, fully human, looking down and slightly swaying.
"Gar? You there?"
"Ndiyo..." He muttered softly, shaking his head. "Um-hum. Almost..."
"Good, good. I brought you some clothes."
"...um...Thanks..."
Vic still stood by the wall, watching in awe at their odd routine. Suddenly, Gar looked up, blinked, saw Vic, and then put his hands over his face as he groaned.
"You saw that... Didn't you..."
Dick chuckled. "Oh, he did."
"No! What did I turn into?!"
"Rhodesian ridge-back."
"Oh!" He got up and sat in the chair opposite his friend with his head in his hands.
"Also..." Dick said, now pulling off his bike pants. "You have to apologise."
Gar looked at him, wide eyed like a child who doesn't know the answer in class. "Why? What did I do?"
"There was an ambulance... and a leopard..."
"NO!" Garfield was very animated as he moved his arms about and avoided eye contact with Dick. "Was it bad?"
"Not really. You just startled them. I just don't want you finding out from the news..." He took a sip of coffee and started pulling boxes out of the paper bag. "So, we have mixed berry pancakes, a honey waffle stack, a cinnamon roll, oh, that's my bacon pancakes. A mango, lychee and passion-fruit smoothie and a blue smoothie, and I got an extra coffee cause I thought you'd be tired. " The spread was in Morning Grooves iconic, patterned bamboo lunch boxes and cups. "So, you gonna sit down?" For the first time, Dick looked at Victor. "Sorry I've been ignoring you. That one requires a lot of attention." He pointed at Gar with a fork.
"Oh, it's OK. But I can't sit down; the chairs aren't strong enough." Vic indicated the flat chair he had thrown earlier. "I'll just stand."
"Sure. I'm Richard, by the way. Richard Grayson."
"As in THE Richard Grayson. Like, Bruce Wayne, Richard Grayson?"
"Yep, that's what it says on my underpants. Richard (as in Bruce Wayne) Grayson."
Vic couldn't tell if the guy was being funny or patronising.
"Hum. I'm Vic. Victor Stone. Ur, thank you for bringing breakfast. What do I owe you?"
"Oh, it's fine. Don't worry about it."
I should hope so, your nick name should be Richie Rich... Do all wealthy kids know each other? He knew it was wrong to judge a guy he just met, but he had an aura of smug dominance. Like he was the kind of guy who would take a board game a bit to seriously, or get jealous if someone 'stole' his glory.
"You're being oddly quiet, Gar. What's wrong?" Dick pointed out.
"Oh, you know. Just. Gotta go to the toilet." Said Gar, getting up, grabbing the tote bag and heading for the door. "Don't wait up!
Once he was out of the room Dick sighed. "I shouldn't have mentioned the leopard bit..."
Vic couldn't hold it in any more, he had to talk. "I think it was my fault!" He confessed. "I made him cry, and then he had, like, a panic attack."
"Oh?"
He was met with a look that was asking for more answers.
"Yeah... I mentioned that animal testing protest... and how the doom patrol were killed... and then about the, uh, flash back thing with the injections... and I didn't even think about how those things had effected him..."
Richard nursed his coffee and sighed again. "That kid's gone through way too much."
Setting: An interview stage with two, red tub chairs facing each other on a wooden floor. The audience is obscured by the spot lights.
In one chair sits Garfield Dayton in a garish, abstract button up shirt from the 1990's, David is in black jumper and Craig has a Hex Girls band top.
Gar: I think I need a break... I just... I don't... A leopard! Dick says I turned into a leopard!
Craig: I know, dude.
David: It's OK, buddy. Craig is very experienced in being you...
Gar: ...I don't know if I should be worried or impressed...
Craig: Be impressed. I've been successfully posing as you for... maybe 6 years...
Gar: Woah... guess you're good at being me... it's kinda scary... you're not gonna, like... take over or anything?
Craig *raising an eyebrow*: No. I'm here to look after you, not take your life.
David: All those T.V shows and movies really do paint an awful picture of mental health...
Gar: ... Do either of you know who this leopard is?
Craig: Honestly... He's been here longer then I have...
Gar *Looking at David*: anything?
David: I, I, I don't know. He only shows up if things get too overwhelming for both you and Craig.
Gar *Looking at Craig*: I thought you were the strong one?
Craig: Well, Yeah. But even I get thrown out the way when someone else is triggered hard enough... if that makes sense...
David: Rhodesian ridge-back...
Craig: Yep.
David: And the tiger can't talk about his problems... ya know, cause he's a tiger... it's a bit hard to communicate...
Gar: I thought we were on about a leopard?
David: Well, yeah. But there aren't any tigers in Kenya, so the guy had to improvise...
Craig: The leopard is a tiger?
David: Gar's favourite animal was the tiger, but there aren't any tigers in Africa and the first big cat you learnt to turn into was a leopard, so the tiger comes out as a leopard whenever you dissociate fully during certain triggering evens, such as going into an ambulance.
Gar *Trying to process the information*: I need that break...
