Rose was crazy. And how badly Gar wished that this was the first time he'd had this thought about a woman in his life. He didn't like it, but it was a fact that, for the time, being, Rose was insane. And thus, a threat. And as a superhero (or former superhero, or part-time superhero, or whatever he was) it was his duty to help deal with her. Or at least to bring her down long enough that she could be rehabilitated or pacified or something.
Gar paced back and forth in his bedroom, talking to himself. "All right. I... I need the Titans on this. Kon's here, Cassie's here, Tim's here. I can probably get Kory and her not-Nightwing boyfriend in on this. Got strength, got powers, got smarts. Damn, I need a psychic. Can Rose deal with psychics? How did we never have that 'What are your weaknesses in case I need to take you down?' talk?"
He took a deep breath. "One on one, maybe. She seemed like she didn't want to see me around. Everyone else she knew she wanted to fight, but she didn't want to see me. Which means that I can probably get close to her before she kills me. Hoo boy."
If Gar had been even remotely close to a plan, it was ruined when he heard a knock at the door and, jumpy as he was, leapt behind a chair. "That was great, Gar. Only needed someone here to see your courage." Another knock. "Coming, coming." He got to the door and, without bothering to check who it was, opened it.
This time, he didn't jump back, but if he hadn't just embarrassed himself he probably would have. "Rose! You're a Rosebud again." In times of horrible, terrible trauma? Puns. "Thank God."