Whumptober Day 5: Gunpoint

Sometimes, Gar wished he had the ability of super speed. He envied the Flashes for it, but not for the reasons one might think. Less for heroic purposes and more for when he'd want to go get a pizza from the gourmet place halfway across the city, or maybe pasta from Italy, and still make it back home in time to catch the latest episode of his favourite sci-fi TV show.

Of course, being a superhero and having super speed also came in handy, but Gar figured that, for the majority of his life, he pretty much had the hero thing on lockdown as it was. Not everyone could be as blessed as Superman in this industry. Or as rich and smart as Bruce Wayne.

Sometimes, heroes had to settle, and work with what they did have. And most of the time, that would be all that mattered.

But unfortunately, there would always come a day where even that wouldn't be enough, and a hero had to question their own resolve…

Gar hadn't thought he'd live to see that day, not with the Titans at his back, but one moment, he'd been in a fight with the Brotherhood of Evil at the Titans Training Tower, and the next, he'd witnessed Monsieur Mallah take one of the smaller children hostage, his gun muzzle pointed right at their quivering, crying form.

"He's got a kid!" Nightwing shouted through the comms, his voice crackling over the static, but the rubble of the collapsing building made it near impossible to navigate the wreckage, let alone see anything beyond the rising clouds of dust.

A pillar had fallen atop Gar's back, and he'd barely managed to lift it off of him, even in the form of a bear. His suit was tattered in many places, and blood, warm and sticky, oozed down the side of his temple and nose. Probably other places, too, but he didn't have the time to check.

The scene played out before him like a slow motion movie, and Gar's heartbeat thrummed in his ears, like a drum. His eyes widened when he recognized the child — his child — and panic paired with adrenaline burned anew in his veins.

"Asha!" he screamed, lungs burning as he watched the little girl tremble before the burly, armed gorilla, tears pooling in her eyes and streaking her little, chubby cheeks.

Little mouse.

A nickname he'd long since given her when she'd been born prematurely, small enough to fit in the cup of both his hands. But she'd never gotten much bigger as a toddler either, always the shortest in her group of peers, and so the nickname had stuck, affectionately. On her fifth birthday, Gar had even bought her a small necklace — white gold — with a matching charm in the shape of a mouse dangling from the chain. Its eyes were tiny red crystals, his attempt at recognizing her mother's chakra when he'd customized it. Gar could see the glint of them even from here.

The little girl's dark hair was dirty and dishevelled, long strands sticking to her soot covered face, and even the clothes Raven had picked out for her this morning were ripped and matted with dust. One of the straps of her dress sat torn over the curve of her small shoulder, and the black and white striped shirt beneath it was covered in dirt and some questionable patches of rusted crimson.

Instinct took over and Gar lurched to his feet with a new burst of adrenaline. It didn't matter that he'd likely broken his arm, maybe shattered a rib or two. Pain was inconsequential to the Beast's protective nature. Impulse overriding everything else, Gar was midshift in the air as he'd jumped towards Mallah with a mighty, angry roar. His lips curled back to bare a set of sharp canine teeth, spittle dribbling down his chin, and a deadly snarl forming on a mouth that wasn't entirely human anymore.

More than anything, he wished that Asha would shift, that she'd have been blessed with his gift, or cursed by her grandfather's touch, if only so she'd know to get away before Mallah pulled that trigger. But Asha's powers were only beginning to manifest, and no one understood them just yet, least of all her. So, she stood there, scared, helpless, sobbing, unable to cry out for help. She clutched her backpack to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut, shoulders shaking with the knowledge that her life would soon end, and not entirely grasping the weight of that.

She'd be going into the unknown alone, without her mother or her father, and it was the scariest concept for any child. That she'd be in indescribable pain until she breathed her last breath, tiny frail lungs filling with her own blood, wanting her parents to save her somehow.

Gar was in a frenzy, frothing at the mouth, trying to dodge beams and wreckage in an effort to get to her faster.

Faster and faster, but never fast enough.

His muscles burned and ached, his body convulsing as he changed into multiple forms. Limbs turning into various animals, anything that would give him an edge, but Mallah knew he was coming.

He would never get to her in time, and his heart was breaking, a strangled scream of agony mangling his voice with the voice of the animals within him.

Mallah squeezed the trigger, and Gar watched in horror mid-stride as her tiny chest exploded from the impact of the bullet, crimson blooming like a flower against the denim of her dress. Asha's green eyes went as dead as a doll's, and Gar swiped at Mallah with a claw twice the size of his head.

He pinned the gorilla down and, in a fit of rage and unyielding grief, he tore into him until there was nothing left. Tears burned his eyes, scorching, his throat afire.

Gar's eyes glazed over; he could see her small body laying perfectly still from the corner of his eye. His breathing was ragged even as the gorilla lay dead at his feet, but he'd gone numb, more animal than man. Nudging her shoe with a furry paw, he moaned and whined helplessly when Asha didn't move.

"It is done."

A woman in the shadows maintained her distance from the scene, appearing like a green wisp, watching without a lick of emotion on her comely features. "Gar Logan is a broken man," she stated coldly.

"Excellent work, Phobia," trilled an electronic voice. The Brain rolled himself out of the darkness to observe the changeling more closely, but Gar was immune to their presence, so consumed by the nightmare Phobia had played out.

Despite the vividness of the mirage, no physical body lay before him. Instead, the changeling cradled a heap of stone and rubble to his chest that he thought was his daughter's broken body. He remained in the form of a beastly figure so badly mutated, it was impossible to tell if the creature had ever existed in lore at all.

"The Changeling will not be bothering us for quite some time now, and when he does eventually realize that his daughter had never been here on this day, it'll be too late. Let us get back to work…" The Brain spun around and began making his way out of the room without a second thought to the former Teen Titan they had forever traumatized…

~FIN