The sky in the west side of Jump City was always a shimmering blue. Even when rain plundered down for what seemed like years, Garfield always noted how scarce the clouds would be as if they were sorry for blanketing the sapphire sky. He took the clarity of the seaside for granted, focusing on his phone whenever car rides struck them mandatory.

On the other hand, the west wasn't much to look at. The packed and filthy central of the city lacked blue, green and yellow, instead filled with thousands of bodies shuffling around each day. It was rather ugly to Garfield to see such an urban sight.

He wouldn't fare well in a crowded residential area. It would be too loud to concentrate, too closed in to soar, too reckless to shrink and too tight to grow. Herding all those pedestrians away mid-battle would be like scraping rice grains into a single sandwich bag. The stupid grains would fall out and Garfield would groaned in frustration, but that would turn into a dozen people flying to their immediate death just because they slipped through his nimble hands.

It hurt his head just thinking about battling it out in a major intersection.

Garfield gave a few taps to his skull, under the impression that it would sooth the doozy stress it rode.

Now where was he?

Oh yes, the sky was bluer in the west. Sand in the west was soft yellow and gritty under his toes whenever he ran around the shore. In the east, sand was minimal and replaced by the cigarette butts dotting the grimy road like first snow on a black deck.

The pungent scent of car kept rattling his mind. Almost like a needle stabbing into silken fabric, the sharp smell ripped away those images of coastal sunsets and urban nights. Reminding himself that he was still in a car, Garfield shifted his body over, flipping himself so he faced his teammates.

Victor kept shrilling to the static beat of the stereo, shaking the walls of the car until the side of Garfield's cheek turned numb. The car seat covered most of his pompously singing friend but Victor's index finger could still be seen, waggling and wiggling to the sound of old cartoon themes. As if the driver was the conductor, shotgun would be the waving stick thingy a hyper conductor would be thrashing around.

He couldn't remember the name of that stick, but Garfield always spotted them in the centre of the orchestra. Shotgun Richard had his left leg propped up onto his knee, bouncing up and down to the beat that swung around the car. Every time the T-Car met face to face with a red light, Victor would stop for a mini upper half dance break. In which afterwards, Richard would bark "drive" at the green light because Victor always danced with his eyes closed.

Kori resided on the seat cushion to his right. Her delicate posture swerved from side to side as the car made turns, left and right. Underneath the heavy hood of her eyelids were glassy jewels slowly dimming as she dozed off into a light sleep. It was not until Garfield's spotted a particularly large turn that he decided to shake her awake before she banged her head against the window.

He shriveled back at her disappointed shake of the head. When she began to hum along to the melody, Garfield decided to pull out his handy ear plugs.

They weren't as effective but when paired with the kitty eye mask he stole from Starfire, two of his most powerful senses were masked off. The muted noises and sheet of warm darkness comforted him, giving him the illusion of a warm summer's night dream.

Sometimes, Garfield closed his eyes in hopes that his beast wouldn't peek through. The heightened smell, sharp eyes, profound hearing and emotional awareness were gifts bestowed from that fateful day, in compensation for the monster gurgling underneath him. When the beast arose, Garfield would feel a fuzzy sensation tickling the back of his eyes until it almost felt like something was peeling his control away.

Despite not remembering much from his midnight escapades, Garfield would always recall the filthy touch of coarse fur along the edges of his finger tips. Of course he never told Robin about this. Even Garfield himself never found out about what happened behind the citrine eyes which haunted his soul on the days he'd hear on the news 'This just in, ominous ten foot shadow lurks the local library by Potus Avenue.'

He would never hear this monstrosity's roar as it had gone dormant a year ago, but once in a while, his eyes would go glassy yellow and his hearing would become swallowed.

Then he'd hear another growl, this one matching almost too perfectly with his own. It would coax him behind his left ear, circling counterclockwise to his right, where heavy breathing would shoot him back into his memories.

The sewers were dimly lit by the crescent moon dancing along the city. It fell through the cracks of the system's gates, casting a striped pattern along his burly arms as he scoured deeper into nowhere. The scent of the scum came close to overwhelming the wave of desire that led him there in the first place. Little known of what exactly he was looking for, Garfield continued to plower through the maze.

The scent grew unbearably intense, crawling up the thin skin lining his spinal cord. It tickled the fur along his ears gently before being sucked into his breath. Once he inhaled the stale scent, the pupils in his eyes dilated into oblivion. The burnt smell spun around in his mind, slowly morphing into a trigger that launched him into a wall involuntarily.

CRASH!

Not bothering to wince at prickling of cracked rock rubbing into his fur, Garfield stood up high and mighty to face the khaki mirrored version of himself. Preparing his claws, Garfield instinctively held one arm forward, ready to swing and grab his opponent by the throat.

Instead of approaching, the beast heaved and panted on front of him, collapsing into a depressing pile of fur. Garfield dragged a thick pointed claw into the creature's neck, pinning him into place. He bent over onto one knee to take a good look at the passed out mammal. Fur matted and the barer hide of his brow coated into thin sweat, the beast seemed rather roughed out as if he had been running for days. The muscles of the beast's calves were taut and stiffened. Rubbing against the monster must've been the dirty walls of the sewage because his arm was decorated with clumps of dried mud.

What could have possibly happened?

'Wait a minute,' He spun around, stumbling on his stocky feet. But every step he took, the chilling serpent crawling down his back would hiss louder, as if warning him to choose his steps carefully. The sewers became blurry in his eyes from blend of dust and light fogging up the room. The grate above him clattered wildly into the sewer, echoing throughout his ears.

The only thing separating him from the murky water was the lump of fur withered on the ground. It seemed almost coincidental that the giant thing laid directly in front of his left foot. Garfield could hear it begging for him to kick it into the water, drowning it before it could awake.

Tempting as it seemed, he paused his launching foot at the sight of the glistening water. It was awfully sparkly for road run off that carried filth from the streets above. He leaned forward to take a better look at the water, amazed at how much it resembled a sea foam green. But when a speckling of fur rippled in front of him, he hesitated.

Garfield could recognize this situation all too well. His claws swatted at the thick mass of fur, scratching shiny red marks that cut into the tangled fur. His dream state dawned upon him, making him hastily flipped the creature onto his back. Garfield stared at his mouth in melting horror.

A ripped piece of blue cloth tattered against the breeze of the sewers as it struggled against the bite of Adonis.

He caught a sharp breath in his throat when the scent of gasoline became especially pungent. It stung the inner corners of his eyes, forcing him to ram his head blindly into the seat in front of him.

"The hell, man. Are you trying to make me crash?" Victor pulled over to the side of the road with a great swerve, causing cars behind them to honk in shock. Garfield shook his head furiously, eyes dizzying from the jerky movements as they adjusted to the cold light. Through his blurry eyes, he saw the car rocking viciously against the curb, throwing Kori's stack of carefully selected magazines all over the ground. The four were scuffled up from the jerk of the steering wheel; Richard, especially, knocked into the parking gear

While the dark haired boy patted the swelling skin of his head, Garfield grasped his neck in an attempt to soothe his sudden lack of breath.

He blinked once and briefly saw the silhouette of the shining sewer water, drifting like the river of Styx. The white flashes in the cover of his eyelids slithered down the water stream, bouncing rays of mint and pearl. The longer and faster Garfield clamped his eyes shut, the more of the illusion he'd see.

Once again, he closed his eyes, even covering them with his sweaty eye mask. The river had already faded away but a dancing green shadow spun into sight, twirling and swirling where the river once was. It lifted its nub-like arms in rage and tore at the darkness blanketing it. Unfortunately, the emptiness won the battle and flushed out the sparks of green and yellow, plunging it into shimmering oblivion.

He ripped the mask off, tainting his sore eyes with the greyscale sight of the T-car. After tapping three fingers onto the ledge of the car door impatiently, he yanked the mask back on, pressing the cloth into the sockets of his eyes. His left hand middle finger nail kept jabbing at his brow bone every jerk the car made but Garfield's milky mind didn't care for the shots of pain. All that mattered was the scowling embers of red, orange and blue, spinning into a tornado until all three swirled so violently that his vision shook, shaking them out of sight like an Etch-A-Sketch in a vicious pair of hands. The minuscule particles dispersed, simmering down until a single sky blue particle remained. Suddenly, it began to flicker, crackling and sparking until it grew thrice its size. When it stood at the size of a blueberry, arrows of navy shot out, withering the glorious flame out. Then came a bright light. It blew up out of nowhere and Garfield would see it from behind his eyelids that this light was like no other. It was majestic, grand and so lifelike.

He took it all back. It wasn't grand nor majestic but it unfortunately was extremely lifelike. The graying clouds storming around the skyscrapers pillowed into the dreary air, filling the area with smog. Garfield thought of it to be just a quick shower until he looked to the right and saw that the sky was still a faint azure.

His hands flew towards under his seat where he yanked out a first aid kit. The ordinary plastic box clattered against its own lid as he scoured over bandages and vials of medication. Five duplicates sat, untouched for months. He held back a breath as he slipped the white mask onto his face. Richard gave him a funny look, quirking an eyebrow and wrinkling his nose. Garfield nudged a finger towards the storming sky which caused Richard to nod back, taking two masks and strapping one to himself and Victor.

Just as he was about to hand one to Kori, she let out a great yelp, throwing his form out of the car and tumbling into the sidewalk. He could barely make out the only female grabbing the two remaining Titans and pushing them out as tiny bullets rained down from the sky, sizzling into the hot metal within a seconds contact. They drilled into the car, collapsing it into dust, only leaving their backpacks, a couple of magazines and an old bag of chips behind.

His feet were light against the jagged road; tiny pebbles scattered under his steps as Garfield flew into the scene. The underside of his heart pummeled as he did as well into the box filled alleyway. The leader was to his right and the team was directly behind him, already stripping to change into costume.

If only Richard hadn't been so adamant that they drove to school as civilians. They could've leapt out of the car, restriction free, plucking up actual citizens off of the ground before Gizmo's exploding bots could get them.

The villain himself didn't make an appearance yet but Garfield nitpicked through all the voices of the crowd a certain crackly one that sounded more like a cloned Daffy Duck rather than the youngest juvie they've caught.

He scanned the scene; this was Richard's job but that boy seemed more focused on the source of all the raining bullets then the sight around them. The ground below them was mostly cardboard madness, crinkled in smudged pleats. They all weaved a chaotic pattern the trailed up into flattened boxes and their younger upright brothers. The alley was fairly closed in as all the bullets bounced off the stone ground like pennies on the counter top.

His fingers tinged a wondrous burn that trickled down his bone like rain against a pole. Numbly warm when the pads of his fingers brushed against each other, the energy concentrated in his core. The heat slid down the flats of his limbs, tingling the contorting muscles; Garfield prepared to shift.

"Halt!"

A firm hand held his head back. Garfield growled immaturely, shaking Richard's grimy fingers off his mane; it had been a Titan custom to grab Garfield by the head whenever you wanted his attention. Like a horse, Richard yanked his reins, forcing him to jog down into a slow trot.

Garfield heard the boy behind him mouth 'what' so softly that it sounded like a sheet of paper cutting into the wind.

"Shut up and listen."

"I just hear a breeze and possibly some bullets deflecting off the ground, dear Richard."

What Kori skimmed over, Garfield's ears echoed. There was certainly a wind of a hefty sort that whistles along the ledges of windows. But in between those ribbons of air was a minuscule grinding noise that gnarled bumpy cement over pebbles. A whirlwind swept the city of its memories, howling and scathing as it makes sudden contact with bodies. Hair flapped, an umbrella tore apart and someone's shoelaces laid loosened, aglets slapping on the pavement in a beat that went babum, babum, babum.

"Gar hears something! His pupils keep shrinking and growing."

Garfield kept his gaze steady on the burgundy piece of lint hanging off Victor's shoulder. It remained stuck to the fabric like a burr on a bear. Stoic things helped him hear; it was an elementary rule. To heighten one sense meant weakening the others. Sight had to go so all he filled in his head was that tiny piece of lint. It was easier to focus on lint and sounds rather than many sights and sounds.

Lint was so plain and meaningless that it seemed to blur into the background while his imagination painted vintage comic styled scenes of destruction and chaos. But this scene in the present was full of desert and wind. He could see a tumbleweed roll by as the loud crunching sound wheeled in from the west.

"What do you see, Gar? Is it my backpack? Please tell me it's my backpack. I have an algebra 2 take home test that I really, really need."

"Victor, shut it. He can't hear your backpack. He can't see through walls."

"If Garfield could, he would've been able to catch whoever kept stealing my English biscuits, dear Richard."

"Those were English biscuits? What kind of tasteless pieces of shit are those? They had frosting and a lemony flavour."

"No Victor, that wasn't frosting. I coated them in honey mustard."

"Oh that's disgusting, Kori."

"Almost as putrid as stealing."

"Disaster." Garfield announced with a clear and sharp voice.

"Yes, absolutely disastrous."

"Explosion." The word slid out of his lips as the crackling grew louder.

"Yes, explosive. Victor, your theft is explosive and out of the ordinary for you. Aren't you a hero?"

"How can theft be explosive?"

"I trust Garfield. He said so."

"Running. Heavy breathing." The footsteps grew larger, louder and lengthier.

"Yes Victor, you are running from the problem."

"What do you mean?"

"My cookies! You were the one eating them?"

"Kori, Victor, shut it. Gar needs to concentrate." A hand patting his clenched shoulders made Garfield straighten his back. "Go on."

"Mammoth sized machine suit."

"What else?"

"Gum chewing. Sounds like two pellets only popped in. I can hear the candy shell cracking."

"Continue."

"Someone is coming."

"What?"

"Someone is coming." He repeated it five times in his head. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. Someone is coming. The trigger that launched him into the wall in his head tickled the cartilage of his ear, whispering a sensory countdown.

The heat slithered into his ear.

Five

It scraped the back of his throat, forcing his mouth wide open in attentiveness. As the warmth spiralled into the pit of his stomach, a sour taste coated his tongue.

Four

That feeling mingled within his finger tips, swirling hypnotic circles in his right palm.

Three

Most of the hot air escaped out of the cavity of his nose, leaving only a crawly wet thing to haunt his mind, body and soul.

Two

His eyelids snapped wide, pinned against the piercing wind and shock of the future ahead. A vibration emitted through his chest as bolts of gold and bronzes glazed over his eyes, stirring up a monster caged up in eroding restraint.

One

His form somersaulted thrice, each flip growing a mountain of fur along his spine. Something inside of him broke free, ripping away his outer skin and sprouting large limbs and elongated talons.

It was the beast. But it couldn't have been. Garfield has never been alive for all those times he shifted into the ominous creature. All those glossy flashbacks of that night were from the tall tales Richard proposed when interrogating him. This shift was unlike what he could ever imagine. It felt painful and delicious when he felt each strand of fur shoot out of his skin like tiny daggers against bison hide. He grew queasy as his gums extended to accommodate the enormous fangs bursting out of his mouth that hung low and loose when he roared. The shift was bright, and bold, and big, and wonderful. The further he fell, the more he succumbed to the sensation of heavy limbs and branching shoulders. Those arms encircled a form that felt hot to the touch and emitted a violet aura and sizzled into his virescent fur.

He shouldn't have threw himself out there to the world for all to see the blonde teen morph into an animal. But now she was clutched in his arms, his arms as in Garfield's arms, not the beast's. There was no beast. Garfield has taken the form forcefully away for his own selfish purposes.

Her.

Rachel.

She was in his arms.

I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so sorry that I wasn't able to update sooner. This chapter was very difficult and fickle to write. I cannot exaggerate how many hours I spent in the subway, trying to type this up on my phone. High school is hard on me but I'm managing to get through. I can assure that the next update will not take a month to write. It is a chapter I've been anticipating since I began this story.

-Catisa~Orsilla