@soulselves
coming back to 2019 was supposed to be a good thing. coming back to the present meant they’d fixed everything - that they were going to stop a future where people like them couldn’t live normal lives, couldn’t exist freely. and yet coming back here... god, it was nothing like they’d planned. it was worse.
the jump was messy. people flashing in and out at different points, not just one mass exodus - which, to be fair, was probably a good thing. the other problem? flashing in at different physical points too. as far as he could tell, everybody was still in westchester, just... no two people seemed to arrive in the same place. so getting a lock on people? really fucking tricky. ever since he’d reappeared, he’d been keeping an eye out, searching as he could - managed to find some of the titans, allies he recognized from the mansion, others he didn’t. but all the while... one dark-haired girl seemed to be just out of grasp. he asked for raven wherever he went. talked to anybody who was in the know, who had ever encountered her... but she seemed determined not to be found. which was probably safer for everybody, really, clumping together the way garfield seemed to be trying might be a recipe for disaster. but a little voice in the back of garfield’s head made him begin to wonder... maybe their inability to find each other wasn’t random happenstance. maybe it was intentional.
it’s a late night - he’s moving quietly through the streets, keeping an eye out for anything... strange. anything that he could lend his aid to, anything that could keep the others safe. it’s a habit he’s taken to - he’s never been the type to need to feel useful, but in these times? keeping busy is the best option he’s got. he walks quietly on the street, hood pulled up high over his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. he turns a corner, notices a figure moving towards him, a young woman. he automatically slouches, trying to make himself smaller, unassuming. as they cross by each other, his eyes rise to her face - she’s pretty. blue eyes, wavy blonde hair, he’s not quite sure if she even notices him walking by. but as she passes - maybe it’s the curve of her nose, maybe it’s the way she walks... it makes him pause, eyes widening. the smell that emanates off her... masked with perfume, but... but it smells like home. he swings around with hesitation, calling out to her despite how stupid of an idea it is: “... rae??”
