"Yeah, uh," he twiddled the RSVP in his fingers, standing between his friends and the TV. "It's the anniversary of the Doom Patrol's creation. As an ex-member I'm kind of expected to be there..." He chuckled nervously.

"Okay..." Robin said, not entirely sure what the big deal was, "Do you need help getting there?"

"Oh, no, that's not the problem..."

"Well what is the problem?" Victor demanded, impatient to get back to the movie channel before the marathon started.

"I'm, uh, not sure I want to go..."

"What do you mean?" Starfire asked, "are they not your family?"

"Well, yeah, but..." Gar continued playing with the letter, looking at the floor and squirming a little, "I don't know."

"Beastboy--"

"It's just since I came here-- it's so different-- and every time Steve says something really mean and then Rita treats me like I'm five, and Cliff and Larry don't even act like anything happened, and they all still order me around like I'm their lacky ..." he paused for breath. "I'd rather play video games."

"You don't have to go," Cyborg pointed out.

"I do! I mean, if I don't RSVP then Mento will probably track me down... make me tell him why..."

"Look, I get it, it's complicated." Dick said, standing. "We've all got our family issues, but it's up to you if you go."

Beastboy shifted his weight his weight unsurely. "...I guess I should probably go anyways... don't wanna disappoint Rita."

"Garfield!" She announced, looking down at the thirteen-year-old on the front step. "I'm so glad you made it; I know how busy you are with your new friends." Rita pinched the baby fat on his cheeks and pulled him inside. "There's some punch, you're allowed to have the one in the plastic bowl."

"Oh, great."

"Look everyone!" She lead him by the hand into the living room, which had been set up to host. "He made it!"

"Only twenty minutes late."

"Give it a rest, Steve, it's supposed to be a party." Cliff said halfheartedly. No one really bothered trying to change Mento at this point, he was the leader and they obeyed him, no real critique was acceptable, let alone considered. "How you doin' squirt?"

"Uh, fine, I guess," Beastboy replied sheepishly, "Actually, last night we had a mission, it was going really great, then-- we were fighting the H.I.V.E.-- so then-- so Robin told us--"

"That's great, kid."

That shut him down fast. He forgot how much room the Titans gave him to ramble compared to the Patrol. Here any statement that wasn't to-the-point was usually considered wasting time-- at least, around Steve it was-- and honestly the team itself wasn't too cuddly most of the time.

"Have you grown? I swear he's grown," Rita insisted, resting her hand on his head.

"I don't think so."

"I swear you've put on a half-inch since we last saw you," she continue, "Maybe we just don't see each other enough."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Wait! I have a great idea," she took his hand again, leading the boy to the doorway to the laundry room. "We haven't done this since you were what? Eleven?" She pressed him back against the doorframe. "Larry, will you grab me a pencil and a tape measure?"

Gar looked over his shoulder at the existing pencil marks on the frame. "You kept this?"

"He always said we should paint over it, but he never told us to do it, so it stayed." She took the tape measure from Negative Man and began extending it. "Honestly, I don't think he actually wanted to paint over it."

"Coulda fooled me."

"I'm not exactly the empathetic type," Larry said, "but it was pretty easy to tell he wasn't handling your leaving so well."

Rita nodded emphatically, "He missed you. Never said it out loud, but he did."

Garfield squirmed uncomfortably. "It's... uh...it's not a party till it ends up in the laundry room," he laughed a little at the absurdity of his own joke. No one else laughed.

"Are you eating enough? I know in a household full of teenagers--"

"Rita, he can walk on his own." Larry reminded, and reluctantly the woman backed off a little, finally giving Beastboy room to breathe.

"Well, 59 inches, that's what? 4'11? I can't believe how big you've gotten!"

To Gar, who was shorter than just about everyone he knew, this sounded a tad condescending.

"So this is where the party went," Cliff said, joining them outside the laundry room.

"Can you believe he's almost five foot?"

"A boy his age should be bigger than that," Steve said, tracking the rest of his team to the hallway.

"We don't know that," Elasti-Girl argued, "there's no Beast Boy milestone chart, he's probably just a late bloomer."

"You said that when he was nine too."

"I'm not going to stick around for this," Larry said flatly, "Cliff, is there any punch left?"

"Tons."

The two exited quickly, leaving Garfield to fend for himself in the crossfire.

"So long as he's healthy that's what matters."

"He can't skirt by on being the runt forever."

"He's just thirteen!"

"And before it was because 'he's just eight' or 'he's just ten'..."

"Excuse me," Gar slipped past the bickering adults and swerved into the bathroom, locking the door. The mirror was a bit high, three-quarters of the patrol being quite tall, but he could just about see down to his shoulders. His eyes were big and his cheeks slightly flushed. He felt something sting his eye and wiped it away quickly.

He sat cross-legged on the toilet lid, taking out his comm.

"Beastboy?" Robin replied almost immediately. There was a soft grunt an a crash. "We're kinda in the middle of something."

"I need help."

"What?"

"Can, uh, can you call an emergency mission? I need to get out of here." He whispered urgently.

"Yeah, of course," Robin said, surprisingly sympathetic given that Beastboy had seemingly called mid-fight. "We're just dealing with Cinderblock, Me and Cy will come by to get you as soon as we're done."

"Thanks."

There was a shout on the other end of the line, and Robin hung up.

Garfield got out of the bathroom as quickly as possible, not wanting to raise suspicion.

Everyone was back in the common area, he joined them.

"Hey kid, fill that up, will you?" Larry passed off his cup to the kid. Beastboy crossed to the table. "From the glass bowl, not the plastic one."

He ladled out some of the punch, which looked identical to the punch in the plastic bowl but smelled worse, and returning it to his old teammate.

"So, uh, how's business without me?"

"Quieter."

"Oh." Gar said. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Sometimes," Negative Man replied. Beastboy waited for the man to finish but he didn't, so he got up and got a plate of food and a cup of punch of his own. He went behind the couch for a little privacy-- not that he didn't trust the Doom Patrol or anything-- and set his plate on the floor.

He glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then leaned forwards and fell onto his forepaws. He stuck his muzzle into the plate and began wolfing down the snacks. Sure he ate as a human all the time, but humans just didn't have the right mouths to devour food quickly. Canines were a bit better.

"Aren't you a little old for that?" He whipped around to face Mento, morphing back into his usual shape. Hastily he wiped the slobber and sauce from his chin.

"Give the kid a break; he'll grow out of it when he's ready."

"I'm just saying, would it kill the boy to mature a little; he's been doing that since he was nine for crying out loud."

Beastboy felt his ears turn down slightly, that familiar stinging in his eyes. He stared at the ceiling, trying to force the tears back in.

"Maybe it's just what he does, have you considered that?"

"Calm down," Negative Man said lazily, "the kid's going to cry."

Suddenly, with all eyes on him, Gar jumped to his feet. "No! I'm not! it's just--"

He was interrupted by the doorbell, without a moment's hesitation Beastboy took off.

"Garfield!"

He staggered to the door and yanked it open, his chest swelling with relief. "Robin!" He exclaimed, then remembered he wasn't supposed to have been expecting this. "I mean-- Robin?"

"Beastboy?"

Gar froze, feeling his former team approach down the hallway behind him.

"What are you doing here, Robin?" Rita sounded almost threatened, maybe even offended, to see Robin there.

"Something came up, we need Beastboy back." The sixteen-year-old said curtly.

"Beastboy's busy," Mento said, "surely you don't need him."

"Actually, we do," Dick replied, even sharper, "he's an important member of our team."

"Well if it's that important why don't we all come?" Robotman suggested.

"That really won't be necessary." Dick took his friend and started to pull him out the entry.

"You wait, young man," The Doom Patrol's leader growled, grabbing Beastboy's other arm.

"No, Steve, I'm going with him," Garfield croaked.

"But."

"I'm with the Titans now, remember?" The preteen tugged his arm out of his former mentor's grip.

"Garfield Logan--"

"I'll see you guys," he said, letting Robin pull him back to the nearest road, where the T-car was parked in some loading bay.

Robin slipped into the passenger seat, Beastboy took the middle-back.

"Wow, and here I was expecting to wait at least half an hour." Cyborg remarked, switching the ignition. "Didn't they try to keep him?"

"Oh they tried," Robin smirked, "but uh, Garfield back there really stood up for himself."

"Really?"

"Why is that so surprising?!" Beastboy demanded moodily.

"He was something to see there," Robin continued, "I'm just happy I was there to see it."

"So, what went wrong at the old family reunion?" Victor asked, cautiously zippering onto the highway.

"I don't really want to talk about it..." the youngest responded. "Hey, how tall were you guys when you were thirteen?"

"'bout 5'3."

"I was only 5'0." Robin admitted after a few seconds of the other two watching him.

"Huh," Gar said, "Only one inch off."

"You're always a little off." Cyborg teased, merging towards their exit. "Anyone wanna get take out on the way back?"