AN: The world lost a marvelous human being recently, and in dealing with that loss, I wrote this.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Teen Titans or any other DC property, nor do I own anything but a few VHS tapes and some memories of a man who shaped my childhood.

This is set at a funeral for a superhero who has committed suicide. I don't make light of the subject, but I don't shy away from the reality. As always, keep your own mental health and happiness in mind, and if reading about this topic is problematic for you, please don't read this story.

Eulogy

San Diego City Archives. Transcript of the funeral of Buddy "Animal Man" Baker, eulogy by Garfield "Changeling" Logan.

First of all, I want to give my condolences to Buddy's family, and thank them for allowing anyone whose life Buddy touched to speak. It's been a long day for all of us, and I'm gonna try to keep this short, but I apologize in advance that it probably won't be. A lot of people have come up here and said things— things I couldn't put better no matter how hard I tried. Part of me was hoping one of them would say what I wanted to say too. Didn't turn out like that, so… here I am.

I met Buddy Baker while working on Space Trek. We'd had tons of guest appearances, but none had ever excited me as much as his. I mean, when I found out he was going to be doing an episode, I knocked over a whole craft services table full of food cause I couldn't stop running in circles around it. See, as far back as I can remember, before I ever got my powers, Buddy Baker was my hero. A stuntman who became a movie star, who also happened to be a superhero? No-brainer.

Of course, I was determined to meet my hero. The two of us never had a single shot together, but I hung around the set almost every second he was there. As it turns out, so did everyone else. Any time the cameras weren't rolling, Buddy was cracking jokes, doing impressions, livening up the set any way he could. Everybody who usually hung around outside was packed into that little sound stage just watching this… this magician at work. It was amazing. There wasn't really a moment where I got to meet him, though. The morning of the last day of rehearsals before we started shooting, I decided I was gonna change that.

We had this trailer for our guest stars. Nicest one on set, came with a dedicated personal assistant. I begged and begged the assistant to let me deliver Mr. Baker's coffee. I have to tell you, it was an odd order. Two large black coffees, each with a pinch of salt and— I am not joking here— half a tablespoon of butter.

So it's four thirty in the morning; we start work at six. I've got the little cardboard cup holder with the two coffees, and I get to the trailer. I knock, Buddy opens the door, and before I can even say a word, I start laughing hysterically. There's my childhood hero, tightie whities on the outside of his jeans, standing with his hands on his hips and his chest puffed out like a bird. He's got a bib around his neck, turned backwards, and there's this fan blowing right in his face making it fly behind him, and there's this drawing of a lobster on the bib, and it's just wobbling around like the lobster's trying to run away or something. And I mean, all of that is great, but what really, truly makes me lose it, is that there's a single hair curler dangling down onto his forehead.

Yeah, Superman, he was being you for a day.

So I, uh… well, I mean, basically, I spent a good thirty seconds or so with my hands on my knees, trying not to fall over or pee. When I finally got ahold of myself, I looked up. Buddy was holding the tray with the coffee I had almost spilled all over him, and he was just… glowing. Like he wasn't gonna stop smiling for a week because he had made some kid he'd never met laugh.

You've heard stories like that before; that's just who Buddy Baker was. After that, though, he invited me in and shared one of those crazy coffees with me. As it turns out, he only ever drank one, and the other was just an excuse to have some company. So we're talking for about half an hour, and out of nowhere he pulls out a pen and a notepad and asks for my autograph. I laughed and asked him if he thought it'd be worth something someday, and he looked me dead in the eye, and he said… he said, "It already is. You're a hero."

I couldn't take it. I broke down crying right there and told him things I'd never told a soul. That I'd made a bad judgment call and cost a teammate her life. That I quit the Teen Titans and I'd been running from the guilt ever since. That I was only acting because I wasn't a hero anymore. And this guy who had never seen me before in his life, this guy dressed in a lobster bib and underpants and one hair curler… he listened to all of it, and when I was done, he asked me a simple question: "Gar, do you think I'm a hero?"

Like I told you, Buddy Baker had been my idol since I was just barely out of diapers. The question was just plain ridiculous; I mean, come on, of course he was a hero. But after I told him that, he got real quiet… and he started listing names. Some I recognized, some I didn't, but I understood who they were, how they weighed on his conscience. And when he was done, he looked at me and said something I'll never forget: "Heroes are just people. Heroes make mistakes, do bad things, hurt people. But that doesn't mean they're not heroes anymore."

I know it's hard to think about… what Buddy did. You never imagine that someone who brought so much happiness and light to so many people's lives could be in that dark a place. I'm going to be honest with you: I think he made the wrong choice. No matter what, there is always help, there is always hope, and he was wrong to give up. But y'know what? Heroes are just people; they make mistakes. And Buddy Baker still is, and will always be, my hero.

And every now and then, I still drink my coffee with a little butter, and I remember that strange man in a bib, underwear, and a hair curler, who made me believe I could be a hero too.