The usual: not mine, don't sue. Just exploring a thought.

The Next Days

"Um, yeah. The school said I had to come here."

"Please, have a seat. We just want to make sure that everyone who needs to talk has the chance to do so."

"Especially those of us stupid enough to be right in the middle of it all, huh?"

"You were caught in something you had no control over. Does that make you stupid?"

"Maybe."

Silence.

"He didn't do it, you know."

"Who did do what?"

"The Batman. He didn't shoot that girl. She was shot way before he showed up to get us all out. He didn't even have a gun, unlike the other fuckers running around with guns everywhere – oops, sorry."

"For what?"

"Language. I'm not suppose to cuss. Mom really gets on my case if she hears it."

"Well, she probably has a point. But, your mom's not here. And if it helps, you can say anything you want with me. It stays here, just between you and me."

"You mean, my parents, the principle, they're not gonna know what I say?"

"Nope. Not allowed."

"Cool, I guess."

"Why don't you tell me what happened?"

"I was waiting on the front steps for Jennie and Drew, just like practically every day. Drew's never on time. Well, this big black kid comes running up, yelling at everyone to get in the school. Course we all stared at him like he was stupid. Then suddenly cars are crashing into each other, people are yelling everywhere and guys with guns are just there, right in front of me. Course I took off into the school.

"I ran to the cafeteria first, there was even a few teachers there. Then, all of a sudden, the guys with the guns are in the building, in the cafeteria. So, I ran again. I saw this one kid, with a baseball bat of all things. It almost looked like he was directing traffic. Tim, Tom, something like that. Well, he hooked an arm around one of the kids who ran with me – Larry, I think. I think I had him last year in science.

"Well, Tim/Tom looked like he knew what he was doing and took Larry to the nurse's office. I.. I just followed behind. And when we got there…"

"It's okay. Take your time."

"There was blood everywhere. All over the nurse's table and under that girl. Between her and the cut on Larry's arm, the blood was all I could smell. And taste. I bit my tongue at sometime. Heh, I still hurts now."

"So, what did you do, there in the nurse's office?"

"Well, the nurse was busy trying to keep that girl alive. Me and another guy, we cut Larry's shirt off and put a really crappy bandage over it. But, it looked like it stopped bleeding. Then, I saw Maria just standing there, staring at the girl, like she was in shock. All I could do was put an arm around her. That's it."

"So, how'd you feel at this point?"

"How…? Scared out of my fucking mind man. I mean, there's the 'Hey, Mom's not here yet, and it's getting dark' or the 'What's that in the bushes at the Davis' house' scared, but this… this was 'Oh, God, I could die here' scared. And there was a girl dying in front of me. Dying right before my eyes. From a gun shot. I'm 16, I'm not suppose to watch someone die. I'm your average, upper-middle class kid, living in a relatively gang-free area of Gotham. You know how proud Mom and Dad are – were – of that? That's pretty much blown to hell now."

"What else were you feeling, right there in the nurse's office?"

"Useless. All I did was run, and follow the crowd. And hunker down like some little rabbit, praying the hawk doesn't see me."

"What do you think you should have felt like?"

"Like I knew what to do. Like Tim/Tom, whatshisname. I mean, he herded those of us running from the cafeteria into the one relatively safe place there, and then went back out, with only a baseball bat for christ's sake, to see if he could find a way out for that girl. That was balls. That felt like he knew what he was doing. That's what I wanted to feel."

"Well, what kind of training do you have?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"You said it felt like he knew what to do. He probably did, from either past experiences or some type of training."

"Dude, what kind of training does a high school kid have for guys with guns invading the halls?"

"I don't know really. But, it could be from some sort of military school, or even living in a bad section of the city. But, the point is, he obviously had some sort of training. Do you?"

"… No. I mean, scouts doesn't really count, does it? I'd never seen a gun until that day. And, yeah, white middle class, never really worried about guys with guns before. But, still, I mean… What the hell?"

"Sounds like you're still kinda angry."

"Damn straight I am! I mean, these guys just decide to off some girl, so they shoot up our school, freak all of us out, and kill her? She's just some teenager, just like me. What did she do? And why did they do it around me?! … God, that sounds awful. I mean, I don't even know if she's still alive."

"And you're not allowed to be angry?"

"Not about someone dying. That's just wrong, isn't it?"

"Why would you think that's wrong?"

"Cuz I'm angry about someone else's misery, I guess. It's not like she asked to be shot because of her dad."

"A good point, actually. And, yes, you can be angry for yourself over someone else's misery. She didn't ask to be shot, but because she was, you went through a lot of trauma too."

"I'm not bad?"

"No. You're perfectly normal."

"Thanks."

"You realize this won't be the last time you need to talk about this thought, right? You even need to talk this through with your parents again."

"They never listen. Yeah, they've kinda listened to the terror and angry part. That's why their fired up about the girl being in the same school as the rest of us any way. Mom refused to let me out of the house for two days afterwards. Not like I was really wantin' to get out, but, hey, house arrest? And, every time I bring him up, mom gives me that 'you won't talk about it if you know what's good for you' look."

"What him? Tim/Tom."

"Naw, although she keeps bugging me to remember his name. No, I mean him, the Batman. He walked right into the room, told us we were going home and we damn well all believed him."

"That's right. You said he didn't shoot the girl."

"Yeah. And none of the adults want to believe me."

"How do you know? Did you see how shot her?"

"No. All I really know is that one moment there were guys with guns everywhere. Then he shows up with those other two, the guys with the guns are gone, and he's ordering the other two to clear the way for him as he hauls her to safety. You don't do that if you shot someone already, do you?"

"No, I guess not."

"And, as we're leaving, one of these guys pops up out of nowhere. Just feet from me, with a gun, of course. Well, one of the other ones took him out with some boomer-rang thingy, and kept herded us all out. Batman and the other two – they didn't even have guns. And my parents won't listen to me about it."

"So, why don't you tell someone else?"

"What, so they can look at me like I'm an idiot too? The cops didn't exactly like hearing it the first time. And the TV's having a field day, calling him a killer."

"How many other kids saw the same thing you did?"

"I don't know. Fifteen, twenty. Why?"

"And did anyone else see anyone? Like in the cafeteria?"

"I… I don't know."

"Why don't you find out? All of you together are stronger than just you talking to your parents."

"Yeah. We know what we saw. Someone in the media has got to want to hear what we have to say. Thanks, doc."

"That's why I'm here. And, you will be again. On Tuesday."

"Geez. Okay, fine. Um, really, thanks doc."

"No problem."

AN: I know absolutely nothing about counselors or psychologists. So, any and all discrepancies or idiotcies are mine alone. I just tried for the venting, trying to get the first handle on what the kids might feel down. Also, I fully recognize that I have no idea just how this conversation would really go, and I'm probably missing quite a bit. If anyone has any thoughts, feel free to let me know. Thanks.

Obviously set right after War Games: Act One ends. Figured someone should see what the "little people" might be feeling.