Red and yellow flames licked their way through the entire auditorium. Bruce coughed and stumbled, nearly prostrating himself on a row of chairs he had stumbled into before catching himself. He could hardly see, but his mind was already working like a machine.

Think, Bruce, think. It thought. You've learned the layout, you've studied the schematics. Up on the stage… there's three exits behind the curtain. One of them leads out into the hallway. Nothing flammable there. It should be safe for a moment.

He redirected himself, based on the chairs, to what seemed to be the front of the auditorium. Then, with all the speed he could muster Bruce ran down the aisle. A beam cracked under the strain of flame and rubble and fell to Bruce's right. Bits of shrapnel scratched his side; he ignored it. Now wasn't the time to take stock of cuts and bruises. It wasn't a long run before he reached the raised stage, and with a single dashing leap threw himself up onto it. Unfortunately, the smoke had already begun to choke this place in its entirety. Bruce fell flat to his stomach and tore a piece of his shirt off, using it as a bit of breathing cloth. It wasn't much, but maybe it would keep him conscious.

He crawled forward, inching his way past roaring flames and crackling kindle to the back of the stage. He dragged himself behind the curtain, and through a door, down a flight of stairs, and into a linoleum hallway. He stood up and examined his surroundings. This was the hallway directly behind the auditorium; the band room and the library were both located here. He picked the band room. The library was a better hiding spot, but far easier to burn down if any arsonists happened to catch him there. He would only be here for a moment anyway. He just needed to change.

He went into the band room and walked past the piles of instruments. Fire alarms blared in his ear as he threw open the storage closet. Dozens of cases fell out, including one gray case near the back, with his family's crest on it. He reached for it, took it out of the closet, and carefully set it aside as he went for his real goal. A beat-up, unassuming trumpet case hiding in the corner with a mysteriously complex lock on it. He placed it on the floor and entered the code as quickly as it could. With the emergencies it was used for, that was about three seconds for him.

He flipped open the scratched black case, and reached inside. One of his many suits, with any and all general-purpose gadgets to quickly solve a situation were now at his disposal. He timed himself based on the three-second intervals between the alarm's rings. It took approximately a minute and a half before the Batsuit was on. A twinge of anger in his mind. Alfred had said it was a stupid name. What on earth else was he supposed to call it? It was bat-themed and a suit, so naturally it would be—

A boom in the distance reminded him of his current mandate. Now was not the time to be distracted by petty grievances against his butler. With a snap, the clasps on his shoulders secured his cape into place. He buckled the belt, dozens of pockets and pouches and capsules filled with whatever he would need to counter the assault on Gotham High. He was certain of it; only one man could be behind the attacks.

The door to the band room crashed back open as Batman, not Bruce Wayne, exited, a breathing mask secured tightly to his face. "Time to crash and burn, Firefly." the Dark Knight said with a cheesy grin that was thankfully hidden. He threw himself out of the hallway as fast as his legs would run. The fire department would handle the collateral; he was going after a man.

"BLUGH!"

The greasy-haired boy doubled over, ready to hack out a lung. Barbara and Eddie moved closer, but he pushed them away with his left hand, and appeared to be gripping his throat with his right. "No, stay away! I'm fine. I just—whoo! I need a sec."

He threw himself against a wall and slid to the floor, panting as he took in what little free air he could. Eddie did the same, but Barbara remained standing, staring at them in disbelief. "The school is burning down!" she stressed. "And here you are, taking a break! Do you even know where we're going anymore?"

The boy held up a hand to stop her. "Slow down, toots, I know exactly where we're headin'. So just clam up already; not my fault I'm not some track star." He stood back up with a grunt that was almost certainly forced and began walking again. Eddie followed behind him. They were in one of the upper hallways at the moment. As the school burned, they found the lower areas too packed with fleeing students to move around. So, the greasy-haired one had led his two followers upstairs to get around the crowd. They passed the freshman hall, spotting the stairwell only a short walk down.

"So, you never told us your name." Eddie mentioned as they moved. "What is it, anyway?"

"Name's not important, kid." The boy told him. After a second of mulling it over, though, he shrugged. "If you're gonna call me SOMETHIN' then I guess J will do just fine."

"Er, all right, 'J'." Eddie said, visibly unused to a name like that. Barbara, on the other hand, looked astounded.

"Do either of you honestly think this is the best time for small talk?" Barbara chided. "You're wasting oxygen!"

"And you're not, Babs?" J asked casually. Barbara's right eye twitched behind her glasses frames, and a vein bulged above her eyebrow. But she restrained herself, to ensure her actions would not result in the gruesome death of their best hope out.

They marched on a little further, coming up to the stairwell. It was at the intersection of two hallways. Various posters from the freshman were hung on boards dotting the walls. Absolutely none of them had any visible effort put in, from Barbara's observation.

"All right," J told them. "we're gonna go down two levels to the ground floor, and from then on it's smoooooth sailin' out the—uh oh."

"Uh oh?" Eddie and Barbara asked in unison. They looked at J, to see his face looking admittedly rather terrified, and staring down the other hall. Against their judgment, their eyes followed his, and took in the imagine of a man in a bronze-colored, winged suit, a fist outstretched towards them.

"Hello, Barbara." the man said in a cold voice. This time it was J and Eddie who stared at Barbara. The short little boy in green looked ready to ask a question, but Barbara cut him off fast as she scowled at whoever was behind that mask.

"Never seen the guy in my life."

"Oh, forgotten me that easily, have we?" the suited man asked. "Well, it's all for the best, in your case. Losing your memory of me only leaves you with less to have burned away."

Firefly clenched his fist. CHINK! The metallic ping coincided with a hook strapping itself around a gap in the arsonist's suit. He looked down at it, seemingly dumbfounded, and followed the wire to the figure hunched over the railing on the stairwell.

The trio of schoolkids gasped in horror as they realized who they were staring at. Eddie's teeth chattered as he squeaked out "I-is that Batman?"

J looked down at Eddie with an expression that no one present could quite place. His eyelids were half closed, as if lazed, and yet they burned with an intense hatred. He bit his lip as if to suppress the vocal onslaught he had prepared. Sadly, he failed, and grabbed Eddie by his copious amounts of red hair, turning the poor boy's face to be opposite his as he shouted. "Are you DENSE? Are you RETARDED or something? Who do you think that is? Of COURSE it's the damned Batman, now run!"

J turned, ready to sprint back down the way he came, but was met by a new wall of fire to keep him company. Firefly wagged a finger at him. "Oh no no no." He informed the greasy-haired boy. "I'm not done with you yet."

A tug on the wire reminded the villain who held the real power at the moment. "You know," Batman snarled at him. "I could say the same to you." The Dark Knight leaned back, flinging himself down the stairwell and retracting the grappling hook at the same time. Firefly tried to resist, only managing to fire off explosive bursts of flames as he was dragged down the abyss with the Bat. He was not fortunate enough to avoid slamming his hip into the railing before toppling over it, shouting in dumbfounded shock.

The flames he launched were less comical, hitting the ceiling and causing the beams and supports to crack under stress. Half of the area above the three students came crashing down, creating a barrier. On the one side stood J and Eddie, and on the other Barbara was left by the stairwell.

"Babs, are you all right?" Eddie shouted, panicking.

"I'm fine, just calm down!" She assured him.

"All right, all right!" He responded. "Okay, um, J and I are going to circumvent this obstruction and meet you downstairs, all right?"

"You mean you're leaving me with the murderer and the crazy fire man?" Barbara asked, bewildered and ready to break down from the insanity of it all. But she got no reply. Eddie and J were already gone. She tried to shout a few obscenities at them, but a freshly collapsed beam only let her get out a squeal of fear as she began to move down the stairwell. At the moment, it seemed slightly safer to be around two maniacs than a burning building. But only slightly.

As she hurried down the steps, she could make out grunts coming from below her. Batman and… whoever that freak was were duking it out below her. The fwooshing noise of a flamethrower occasionally accented the general thuds and grunts. As she reached the end of the first flight, her curiosity took hold, and she tried to peek over the railing to see what was going on.

"EEP!" she screamed, throwing herself back against the wall as a pillar of fire flashed up from below. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, ready to make a break for it as she tried to listen to what was happening below. The sounds from the two were getting distant; they were moving away. Barbara felt that this was the best time to move, and continued her descent. Sure enough, as she reached the bottom no costumed men were in sight; only the copious scorch marks from the fires were visible. She walked out of the stairwell and found the area to her right cut off by crackling support beams. "Figures." she muttered. That was the closest exit.

She moved left, and found herself in her own hallway. It was quite some distance, but the little corner she had passed through just that morning was directly ahead. She began to move, keeping an ear out for either of the maniacs duking it out. She passed by her science lab.

clink-clink-clink

She gasped and looked back behind her. No one was there. She sighed in relief, and turned back around.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh, SHI—" Barbara was cut off as Firefly grabbed her by the shirt and threw her against a locker. She felt the metal dent, but was preoccupied by her shoulder dislocating. She tried to grit her teeth, but couldn't help but scream as her cheeks were stained by falling tears. Firefly clicked his teeth in disapproval.

"Now, now, Barbara, there's no need for tears. It's not nearly enough water to put out the flames I'm about to place there."

Barbara felt a cold chill go down her spine, impossible to miss considering how hot the rest of her body felt at the moment. "Please!" she shouted. "Don't hurt me! I don't even know you, what do you want?"

Before Firefly could respond, a metallic ting in the air heralded a tiny metal bat driving itself into an open spot under the arsonist's shoulder. The armor didn't reach there. He hissed in pain and backed away, letting Barbara drop into a huddle on the floor as Batman walked into sight. Or, limped was the more appropriate word. His suit was ripped in multiple areas, and the flesh underneath was scorched. Sweat poured down every bit of open skin, and at the moment he clutched his left arm; it appeared to be broken.

Now that she had a moment to properly examine him, the other one seemed worse for wear as well. One of his goggle lenses was cracked, and his forehead had a deep laceration across it. His armor was dented in multiple places, and scratched from sharp blades. She could hardly believe what she was looking at; how were either of these two still standing, let alone fighting?

"So you haven't told her yet, Firefly?" the one she knew was Batman growled. She made the assumption that this "Firefly" was the man in the bronze armor. "Drop the act, it's time that you told your victim the whole story for once, Firefly."

Batman sounded a little too pleased with himself as he spoke his next phrase. "Or should I say Garfield?"

Barbara looked over at Firefly in shock, and in response the villain had torn away his goggles. It was now very recognizably his face underneath the mask, though incredibly torn up from the fight. "B-but… what?" was all she could get out. None of what was happening was processing in her mind correctly. None of it made sense.

"What does it matter who I am?" Garfield—or Firefly, Barbara supposed—asked. "I am only here to represent an ideal; the cleansing fire with which we shall remake the earth into a better tomorr—"

"Shut it, Lynns!" Batman shouted back at him, shutting him out. "If your identity wasn't important, you wouldn't be picking out individual victims, would you? Gordon's kid, I understand. You wanted revenge on your family's biggest rival, the know it all brat whose daddy was going to inherit the position of yours. Of course, none of that would have happened if you hadn't murdered your own father!"

Barbara felt a weight drop in her gut as the horror of what she heard sunk in. "You mean it w-wasn't… you?" Barbara asked the Bat. He did not respond, keeping his gaze focused on Firefly.

"My father was an idiot." Garfield bluntly informed the others. "He was corrupt, and a plague on Gotham. But I would sooner die than let a man as incompetent as Gordon take the position. Or anyone else, for that matter. The entire system is broken. We need to tear it down, rebuild! The plan is beautiful!"

"The plan is flawed, Garfield." Batman told him. "That's your problem. No patience." He took a step past Barbara and towards Firefly, who stepped back accordingly. "You had effectively framed me for the murder of two criminals, but you slipped up by using a camera whose origins were easy to trace. Your father kept a warehouse full of them on government payroll, and distributed them to gangs or anyone else who paid. That pinned your father as a prime suspect; but you couldn't wait it out, you had to kill him yourself. Even when you successfully managed to frame me for that, you still felt the need to attack the school."

"Shut up!" Firefly hissed, bringing up his flamethrower. Another metallic bat shoved itself into his arm, cutting off the tubes of gas so precious to the machinery's workings.

"That is why you failed." Batman continued. "You acted before knowing the consequences of what you'd done before. It all piled up, and made you pathetically easy to predict. Now, here we are. You're cornered, Garfield. Look out there."

Firefly looked, only for a moment. Outside those glass doors the red and blue lights of police cruisers was clearly visible. "The GPD are here, Garfield; this time, they'll be after the right man."

Firefly turned and ran towards the door. Where he planned to go from there was a mystery, but not one that would ever be solved. Batman rushed past Barbara, chasing down the smaller man and tackling him. The two rolled to the ground, allowing Batman to deliver a swift, final punch to Firefly's skull. He impacted with the floor nose-first, and crunched it on the linoleum. A faint sigh escaped his lips, and Firefly fell unconscious.

Barbara got up, nursing her wound as she approached Batman. He was crouched over Firefly's body, restraining him with a pair of zip cuffs. She took a step towards him, but retracted as he turned to look at her. His blank white eyes were unnerving, but something seemed odd about his expression. He was trying to form a snarl, or some kind of glare. But he couldn't quite manage it. Barbara noted this, and managed to stutter out a question.

"W-why… why did you stop him? Are you a criminal or not?"

Batman stared at her for a few moments in complete silence. He finished applying the zipcuffs and stood. She saw a slight wobble in his motions. "I break the law." he told her. The growl from before was lessened. That voice was forced; try as she might, though, she couldn't quite pinpoint the familiarity of his voice underneath the gravel that remained. Batman turned his gaze down to Firefly, and pulled him up by the collar.

"But I'm nothing like him."

Barbara would have spoken more, but a sudden crash above them reminded them that the school was starting to come down. The ceiling began to crack, bits of debris landing on Miss Gordon's upturned face. "MOVE!" Batman shouted, and she felt a great weight impact her as the Dark Knight slammed himself into her, picking her up and sprinting down the hallway, falling debris behind them. Up ahead, the doors drew closer and closer; Barbara's dazed senses barely noticed the presence of two figures just beyond the doors. She felt a whirling as what was either her captor or savior spun, throwing his own body through the glass instead of hers.

The two of them, plus Firefly, went hurtling out into the daylight, and into two unsuspecting GPD officers. Five people were flung down the stairs into Gotham High's main entrance, only coming to a stop at the very bottom. Barbara felt the world spinning around her as she began to register the kind of pain you get when you fall down a flight of stairs with pre-existing injuries. Once she opened her eyes, her first sight was smoke pouring out the doors they had just passed through, and a team of firefighters trying to get in, pouring in thousands of gallons of water to snuff out the flames as they enveloped her school.

The next thing she noticed was the sound. Someone was shouting. "Freeze! Don't move! Put your hands in the air! You're under arrest! We got you, bastard!"

A cacophony of voices filled her ears, and she rolled over to see a swarm of police officers surrounding Batman. He was on his feet, but weak. He couldn't take this. At the head of the mob was none other than Lieutenant Jim Gordon, her father. But he looked different. His eyes were narrow, his warm-hearted smile replaced by an icy scowl, and his open arms now gripped a shotgun, which he used to bash the Batman over the head with. The vigilante stepped back, rocked by the blow, and tightened his fists. He prepared to throw a counter-attack, when Barbara screamed at them all. "STOP IT!"

Batman paused, and looked back at her in surprise. Gordon seized the opportunity to kick the Bat square in the gut and hurl him to the ground by Barbara. As he moved in closer, she threw herself in front of the battered man, and shielded him as nearly a dozen SWAT formed a semicircle around her with guns drawn. Jim nearly joined them, but hesitated; he finally noticed that it was his own daughter shielding the crazed killer. "Barbara!" he shouted, trying to sound angry. She didn't buy it; she knew him well enough to know that he felt hurt. "What are you doing? Don't you know what this man has done?"

"I read the stories, Dad." Barbara told him. She tried her best to keep up the defiance, but even now she was questioning herself. Why on earth should she risk her own health to protect a stranger?

Something clicked in her mind. On her first day of school, she had thought about all the things wrong in Gotham City. All the villains, the crooks, the liars. How there was no one good to counteract it. But all of a sudden, this Batman, whoever he was, came out of nowhere to save her and two other people he's never met. He was hurt badly in there; it would have been easier to run and save himself. He didn't. He helped her. He helped everyone. She wasn't sure, but maybe he wasn't what the police thought he was. Maybe he wasn't a criminal at all. Maybe he was a hero?

Barbara felt something welling up in her chest as she felt the realization. She pointed at Garfield, and bluntly told her father "There's your killer." The other officers looked at him and gasped, muttering amongst themselves. Wasn't that the Commissioner's son?

"He was the one burning down the school." she told Lieutenant Gordon. "He would have killed me, but this guy, Batman—he saved my life. He hasn't done anything wrong, Daddy."

Jim's face was almost heartbroken when she said "Daddy". Good. She had hoped that would hit him hard; it might have been enough to even convince him. But instead of lowering his weapon, all Gordon did was sigh.

"Maybe that's true, Barbara, but this city has laws. Vigilantism is high up on the list. He's a criminal one way or the other. He's coming with us."

"You can't do that!" she screeched at him. "All he did was—huh?"

The police and Barbara turned to see that, in all the commotion, Batman had fished out a gray pellet from his belt. He dropped it to the ground, and in a puff he and the Lieutenant's daughter were enveloped in a smokescreen. Men began shouting as they tried to figure out what to do. A few aimed their weapons, only for Jim to smack them in the head; his daughter was in there, like hell he'd let them try that.

Barbara could hardly keep up with it all inside of the cloud, but once it had dissipated only she, her father, the police and Firefly remained. The Batman was gone. A few officers fanned out to search for them, but all Barbara saw was the silhouette of her father bearing down on her as fast as the human body could move. She felt herself sweat up into the air by her father's strong arms as he held her as close as he could. She heard an odd pattern of breathing coming from her dad this close. He was sobbing.

"Barbara, I'm so sorry."

"Dad, it's—"

"I was just so focused on catching this guy. I wanted… I wanted you and your brother to be safe."

"Dad, I forg—"

"I should've called, I shouldn't have left you worrying like that. And you ended up in so much danger even though—"

"DAD!" Barbara shouted. Jim stopped himself, a little shocked, and backed away enough to look her in the eye. She smiled and hugged him. "I forgive you, now shut up."

Jim smiled and hugged his daughter as tightly as he could. They were safe.

Late that night, the Gordon family sat together around the table and ate dinner. Roast turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce—since she had been through so much, Barbara had picked the meal. She had decided on Thanksgiving around three months early. She scarfed down all the cranberries she could get her hands on as her father regaled her little brother with the story of how The Batman defeated Firefly.

"Batman stared down the villain with his heroic gaze! But behind it sat a nervous mind; he was down to his last ice pellet, and Firefly could burn all day! How would he manage to squash this bug for good?"

James Gordon stared at his father with eyes as wide as saucers. They sparkled with childlike wonder, enthralled in Jim's story. Barbara chuckled to herself as she watched her little brother. It must have been nice to be so innocent, and just think of fights as people throwing outlandish gadgets at their enemies. She wondered how much it bothered her father to be telling James this story; Batman was a target for arrest, after all, and he was pretty unabashedly the hero of this silly little tale.

She didn't ponder on it long before the doorbell rang. Her mom began to get up to go answer it, but Barbara held up a hand to stop her. Mrs. Gordon smiled and nodded at her, and she walked to the door. She unbolted the doorway and opened it, to find Bruce Wayne standing on her porch. Her first reaction was to let her face fall into surprise and distress, seeing the condition her friend was in. He was covered in bruises, a few light burns were easily visible on his skin. Other ones were underneath bandages; and his entire arm was in a cast. Somehow he still managed to smile at her. "What happened to you?" was all she was able to say.

"I… had to take the long way out." Bruce joked; it didn't sit well with his friend, though, who noticed that he was probably telling the truth. He thought it over a moment, and went into detail. "It's nothing serious, I swear! The doctors say I'll be out of the cast in just a couple weeks, and Alfred's got some old family recipe for my burns; says I should look presentable again by the end of next week."

Barbara thought about berating him for not calling, or otherwise alerting their family. She'd told Jim what had happened the last time she saw Bruce, and they'd spent the whole afternoon worrying. In the end, though, all she felt she could do was carefully navigate around his broken arm and hug him. Bruce let this go on for no longer than a second before he questioned her. "Any particular reason you're feeling so hands-on?"

"It's an emotional day," Barbara informed him with a faux-bitter tone. "Everybody's hugging. Just deal with it." Bruce threw his working hand into the air, admitting defeat and accepting his gruesome fate. A few moments later Barbara finally let him go, only to grab his hand and tug him towards her door.

"You've gotta have dinner with us." She instructed the bewildered Bruce. "They'll all want to see you're OK."

"Thanks," Bruce told her, pulling away. "But I really need to get back home. Alfred's probably getting restless." He tried to walk away, only to get yanked back again by his fiery-headed friend. His expression sank as he saw the cheeky grin on her face.

"We can call him from here."

"You're really not letting this go, are you Barbara?" she shook her head "no" to affirm this fact. Bruce sighed, admitting defeat yet again and immediately perked up and grinned. "Come on then, let's get going."

Barbara threw her hands up in an exaggerated little cheer to herself and led Bruce inside, where her family was already waiting to greet him. He was ushered into their humble feast, where sat and talked and laughed as the night carried on. Several hours later, Alfred pulled up in an unassuming black car, walked up to the door, and went inside to join the Gordon Family plus one as they sat around the living room, reminiscing about the good times of the past and looking forward to the future.