Another hero, another mindless crime
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime
Hold the line
Does anybody want to take it anymore?


"Sups!" Beast Boy called, rushing back to the police line clutching a Metropolis Meteors key chain. "Sups, there's still people in there! We need to go!"

"Where are they?" Replied Superman, looking away as Beast Boy undid his trousers and pulled his shirt over his head.

"Floor 52!"

An officer turned to him in disbelieve. "Are you crazy, kid, that's where they think the fire started! Hay! Get back here!"

It was stupid, he knew, but Gar morphed back into an albatross and flew up to the middle floors, followed by the man of steel.

The room they entered was a mess. Scorch marks were burnt sporadically across the walls and the words 'I'm sorry" stood out in dripping, green spray paint. There was only one door they could exit through. Above it was an emergency exit sign, but instead of being green, it was red, and the stick figure was running towards the fire. Thankfully, the door was already open.

"Beast Boy, wait! Be careful!"

He didn't listen. Adrenalin pumped through his veins as the large, green German Shepard bolted through the charred hallways. Follow the smell! Bare beams stood where wall once were, and electrical cables hung from the ceiling. Broken glass from the lights and windows littered the floor.

Superman kept close, vigilant of anything that could collapse in the fragile surroundings. It wasn't long before he noticed he was following bloody paw prints. The young hero was devote to his task, identifying each scent and tracking the one important smell from a small key chain. He could crawl into the wreckage of the labs, over warped metal that had been heated and frozen. Get smaller. Past sparking wires, through rubble from collapsed walls and ceilings. Towards the heart of the disaster.

Please, no. NO no no!

Beast Boy started barking.

Superman could hear him clearly, and carefully negotiated the debride making sure not to cause anything to collapse. There were still smouldering piles of wood, which he carefully extinguished. Beast Boy's barking had turned into distressed howling. Loud and sorrowful, it escaped the confines of the wreckage and could be heard by those outside.

"What... what does that mean?" Robert asked, holding onto the small key chain. "Where are Silas and Elinore? Where's Vic?..."

Police started to remove their hats.

"No... They can't be..."

Superman came out from the 52nd floor carrying Beast Boy, the iconic red cape fluttering behind them. Paramedics, officers and fire fighters came to meet them and learn about the situation inside.

"Beast Boy needs medical attention." He told them, laying the soot covered dog on a paramedic trolley bed. A wheel moved and Gar's heart beat quickened.

"Don't worry, Beast Boy, just stay still and don't morph." Said a man in black "We'll get the glass out and bandage you up. We just gotta take you to the ambulance."

Don't freak out. Don't freak out!

The small, white room closed in on him. Canisters were mounted on one wall, clear tubes hung beside the bed and monitors bleeped repetitively without fail. The ceiling was white, just like everything else. He couldn't make out the faces of the two people in the room with him. Their words muffled, like they were in another room. Why couldn't he move?

Let me out! PLEASE don't do this to me! Not again! I want to be bigger! I want to bigger and stronger so I can save myself. If I wasn't me... If I was a tiger I could bite you! I would bite you and I would run away and live in the jungle! Please... I don't want to hurt any more...

Garfield snarled between barks as he saw the inside of the ambulance. Too many feeling started boiling over inside of him and he didn't know where they were coming from. What animal was he?

The paramedics screamed as he grew and let out a long sawing roar. Superman flew over and saw the leopard laying on the table, frozen in place but growling.

"Do we tranquillize him?" Someone asked.

"NO!" Shouted a guy in a familiar red and green suit who was running over. "He's stuck in a flash back. Come on, Gar. Wake up."

"You're going to tell a traumatized leopard to wake up and hope it doesn't bite you!?That's your plan? "

"No, this is-"

So no one told you life was going to be this way.

Robin held his phone by Gar's head as the Rembrandts played. Those who had seen what was happening were confused by the odd plan, but the leopard stopped growling.

When it hasn't been-

"Chorus is coming up, you can't sing it if you're a cat."
But, I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.
I'll be there for you, like I've been there before.
I'll be there for you, cause you're there for me too.

"So, what? This is going to stop the flash back?" The same someone said.

Robin looked at him, "Do me a favour. Stop talking and pass me Gar's jacket.

The man looked at the hero with disapproval, but went to get the red and white jacket from on top of a police car. "What does he carry in hear? It weighs a tonne!"

"Everything." Robin lay the phone down and went straight for the wrist pocket, which held a red handkerchief and small bottle of essential oil. The smell of jasmine was overpowering as he poured some oil onto the fabric and put it down by his friend.

...down to your knees.

That, I'll be there for you, when the rain starts to pour.

Slowly, human features started to emerge out of the fur and blood covered paws turned into blood covered hands. Robin draped the jacket over his middle.

"No one could ever know me, no one could ever see me.
Seems like you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me.- Ya know. If neither of us finds someone when we're forty, we could just marry each other."
"No thank you, Garfield."

"Whatever dude, your loss."

Everything was awkward. The kind that makes you want to sink into the earth and get the memory erased.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I scared you. I... um... I-I remembered something... and I freaked out... and I'm bleeding... a lot...um... I...I, um... Does anyone else smell that? It's like... Oh, OK."

"Go to sleep, Gar."

The general aesthetic worked quickly as Robin put the mask over his face.

A seep sense of betray writhed in his chest, but Garfield had brought it on himself by running about in glass covered floors. He wouldn't be able to sit still and let someone cut him open to get the shards out, he couldn't be around needles, and he never used analgesic. This was the safest option for him, and the medical staff... but it still didn't make Robin feel any better about it.


Technical difficulties. Please stand by.


(analgesic is the proper word for pain killers.)