Dancing was such a chore. That was what Rachel was probably thinking at that exact moment. Garfield could read the miffed stare she gave the disco ball, then the fake snow, then the DJ as she swayed her hips, legs rooted to the ground and arms tucked underneath her bust. The dim blue lights glittered of a winter madness that swept across the room but fell on her face like a blanket of fresh powder—icing sugar or some sort of weather phenomenon.

He wanted to take her hand and press it against his heart, to make her feel the steady thumping as he smiled at the sight of her bashfully looking for something in her purse. As he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pushed her against his moving body to the sound of sleigh bells and violas, the whistles of caroling students aroused the auditorium's attention to the herd of cheerleaders, all dressed in fluffy cuffs and earmuffs.

A mere second passed and he had already lost her to the overwhelming sight of Kori twirling her pom-poms and her fellow cheerleaders popping confetti crackers into the hooting crowd.

He hissed as the tip of his ears redden; he hadn't prepared to be confronted by the intruding sounds of thousands of students singing, stomping, and throwing root beer at each other. In a panic, he backed into a wall and thumped his foot against the floor, pressing his ear against the cold stone.

Thump, thump, thump.

His ears buzzed with some sort of white noise as the entire world fell into some kind of slow motion. A chaperone laughed at the sight of a dancer falling off the stage. Two kids frantically signed at each other—probably to get away from this monstrosity. The stage lights were blinding and hot against the back of his neck when he rushed up the balcony stairs. Someone tripped on their heel as they ducked out if his way, making his eyes drift towards the confetti and ripped snowflakes on the stairs. When he tried looking up, it was more difficult to consume the scene as it choked him to see all the moving mouths and feel the vibrating floor with no sound.

Garfield gripped the railing between his thumb and fingers, rolling the muscles of his hands against the stiff metal; the pads of his fingers were probably numb from sweat and the chilly poles.

With his sharp eyes, he studied the ground below, counting the dozens of red and green dresses swishing against the multitude of dress shirts and tuxedoes with the occasional snowman suit dotted like cigarette butts on a dirty sidewalk. But as the lights faded and the clothes turned into specks of glitter, all that remained was a soup of sparkles and baby powder.

He didn't fret until he tasted the air and tasted sweat, smelled the room and smelled peppermint, and touched the back of his dress pant pocket to feel no phone.

Shit.

He had given it earlier to Rachel for safekeeping. Curse his distrust with himself and small tangible objects.

Attempting to quell an internal thunder, he imagined her scratchy voice back at the cliff, husky and curt like the manner she carried when she stalked the halls of the tower. He tried to see her face as she ran down the mountain of rubble, knees barely scraping while he drowned his sanity in the salty pacific.

The tempest calmed and his sorrows were beached.

Garfield spun around slowly, finally taking in the capacity of the jubilant music, dancing teens, and colourful balloons. The fake cotton snow coating the walls made everything seem hazy, lessening the strain on his eyes. To be quite frank, the entire set was hideous; if he hadn't shut off his hearing, surely Garfield's senses would've knocked him off his feet. He could take a blaring screen of a TV, and the beeps and whistles of a video game, but not a high school dance full of too much of everything and not enough of nothing.

So for now, lip-reading would have to suffice.

When the corners of the giant room began to darken, he shuddered and closed his eyes, wanting to imagine some sort of bizarre dream or enter some kind of unconscious state; anything to get out of this dance. Suddenly, his eyelids peeled open and he swore he saw a silhouette lurking in the shadows of the balcony. Terrified, he stepped back, only to slip up on a smooth, flat object on the ground.

He crouched down robotically, determined not to pay mind to the haunting sight. The veins of palm leaves decorated the delicate compact that glimmered some sort of teal under the disco ball. Garfield selfishly tucked his stolen treasure into his breast pocket as a familiar pair of flats clambered against the stairs, alerting him of the intruder approaching.

She was most definitely upset over the mirror; it was written all over her furrowed brows, creased skirt, and clutched hands. But as she looked at him with blown eyes and flushed cheeks and mouthed something he couldn't hear, Garfield merely shrugged, resisting the urge to pat his pocket.

He trusted himself with small objects a lot more now. Although he wasn't sure why he kept the mirror from her, he reminded himself to tease her about his phone and offer a trade after the debacle.

"You know, the only reason I came to this stupid dance was because of Iris. She kinda tricked me into believing this was all pretty lights and chocolate cake. Even her friend North told me that they would have crowd surfing here—they're even part of the dance committee. A darn shame, I was really looking forward to climbing my way into your arms." He let out a laugh when he turned to see Rachel huffing and pushing his arm away. "Even though I can't hear shit because of this horrid music, I can still tell you want me."

"Shut up," she replied—or at least he thought she replied.

"I noticed another thing. You aren't wearing red lipstick."

She rolled her eyes and jabbed his upper arm.

"How are you supposed to match my tie if you aren't wearing the lipstick?"

Her arm reached for her purse absentmindedly and she pulled out a tube of lipstick with a small sticker on the bottom, bright like the flickering lights on the Christmas tree in the corner of the dance floor.

"Well, what are you waiting for, mama? Put it on." She gave him a stare as she attempted to look around for something. Clicking his tongue, he slipped the mirror from his breast pocket. "Looking for this?"

As he held the mirror above her head, ready to tease her with it, Rachel jerked away from his body, arms still clenched to his shoulders. She looked odd, flailing about in his arms—not that he minded—and not pinching his nose. As she brought his face close to her own, he grinned at the sight of her lovely lips, matte and plump; they looked as if something red had been wiped off earlier. Garfield felt his back arch lower, subconsciously wanting to close the gap between them so bad until Rachel gripped his ears and her smooth voice grew scratchy as she yelled, "-octor Light!"

Ears ringing from the sudden noise, he felt his neck jerk as he watched the Municipal Chess Champions banner burn up in blue flames.

He panicked on the sidelines as Starfire slammed against the gym floor, skin screeching on the wax. The stench of burning smoke began creeping behind him as the students wailed and then hushed as they all whispered, fearful that their noise will end their lives sooner. Garfield felt his dress pants bunch up behind his knees as he crouched, covering a few cheerleaders that were vulnerable to the growing flames with their fluffy and flammable skirts. As one of their streamers began to light up and creep towards the group, a metal foot clamped down.

Garfield's jaw hung open as he watched another one of his teammates throw themselves at the bright Doctor Light. He heard gasps behind him as Cyborg began launching sonic waves, temporarily throwing the doctor off his tracks.

He assumed his leader was out evacuating the students until a bird-rang clunked against the floor beside him, mauled up and glowing with heat on the edges.

Just his luck.

Garfield was horrible with heatwaves and even worse with fire. The room full of blinding light and more students rushing in—he heard murmurs of the exits being blocked—nursed an ache in his skull as he wondered if that little girl he saw in his dreams would come by with her doll.

As the cheerleaders behind him backed away from the falling clump of streamers on the ground, he stumbled and was caught by two lithe arms.

Iris, in a fluorescent blue gown, cried behind him as she begged him to move away from the falling flames and debris. Another boy, someone from the basketball team, yanked his arm away and tried leading him to the back of the gymnasium where most of the students huddled, shuddering and panicking.

His eyes crept over the scene, spotting the girl who slammed the change room door in his face, the pair that had been whispering about him on the first day, a couple of football players Dick introduced to him, and a familiar face in a black evening gown. She ran towards him, hands gripping the sides of her skirt, as her lips remained motionless. Rachel hooked her arm over his own, yanking him away from Iris and her terrified friends.

Iris screamed back at his date, begging her to stop leading him to his death. She desperately clawed at his bicep, asking him to snap out of it before his body burned.

"Garfield, please!" Her corsage, ripped and crumpled, scraped against his wrist. "Don't be an idiot! Not now!"

He looked down at Rachel, shaking off the scared girl. A simple stare took over her face as reflections of growing fire bounced off the whites of her eyes. Garfield wished he could tell what she was thinking right before she grabbed for his jacket.

He didn't know what to say; he wasn't sure if he was okay with getting it on in the middle of a battle. "Rachel, this wasn't what I was thinking when I said I was cool with you taking off my shir-what are you doing?"

She fiddled with his remaining buttons and grabbed for his neck, completely nonchalant that she was undressing him in front of all his friends and the cowering school.

At last, she found the silver chained necklace and hastily fumbled with the lobster claw clasp until the cold chain slipped off his neck and his skin bled green.

The sight of Iris's eyes widening as her hands slipped from his arm and the boy backing away fell to the back of his head for all he could see were his teammates, Doctor Light, and the growing hearth that surrounded the fighting ring.

She was beginning to resemble a pest—an itch on his back, a tickle in his scalp. While the rest of the colony were in the back of the gym, she remained on the sidelines, crouched and clutching his jacket.

His attention was grabbed by greedy Doctor Light who exclaimed in glee, "Feel the light! Feel it creep up your necks, titans, until you can't feel it no more!"

Thankfully, Doctor Light's eyes were glued to Starfire who had been flying around frantically, searching for a vantage point that wasn't engulfed in flames. The warrior yelped at another clump of debris falling near her head as the villain crept closer, hands emitting white beams.

Beast Boy scampered around, squeaking occasionally at the specks of ash raining onto the ground as he wandered around the south of the gym, searching for familiar feet.

Pumps, sneakers, loafers, socks—questionable—flip flops, and another pair of high heels. Dodging a giant, fuzzy, white foot, he squeaked to himself about how it smelled of faint rubbing alcohol and fruit gushers before ramming nose-first into a metal toe.

"Knock it off, BB," Cyborg scolded as he lifted the critter by the tail.

Beast Boy squealed and skittered along his friend's arm, sliding carefully under the shifting metal plates and onto his shoulder where he clung as Cyborg dove to deflect a beam away from a shuddering teacher.

After checking his surroundings, the shapeshifter rolled back into a human, pulling out his beeping communicator. "Beast Boy, here."

"Is Cy there?" Beast Boy turned the camera towards Cyborg, who was dusting off his knees. "Good. So evacuation isn't possible." Beast Boy snorted. "Not funny, Beast Boy. The doors all seemed to be jammed. I assume the only working exit would be at the front, which isn't presently accessible. Don't attempt to regroup. There isn't anywhere safe to hide. The area is too small to fight and any damages to the building would surely risk the students." As Robin's face lit up a warm yellow, he exclaimed, "The fire is stationary! Most of it doesn't seem to be spreading, minus a few of the taller flames. Makes sense since I doubt Light is trying to raid a high school. This is most likely a stunt to get back into the HIVE. Strategically avoiding damage costs as the building is backed by a school board, Doctor Light has learned a thing or two from prison!"

"Did you hear?"

Cyborg nodded, scanning around the scene. His eyes thinned as his fingers danced around buttons on his arm, turning on a screen. "Doubt the HIVE would take him back for something this petty. A high school? What is he going to steal, the textbooks?"

"Dude, those are so expensive. Why do I have to pay a hundred bucks when I could just get the same thing online?" Beast Boy pinched the bridge of his nose as he remembered lugging around five textbooks before he realized he was supposed to keep them home. "He could take them for all I care."

"He won't get far trying to carry even a couple. And most of the books are pretty flammable." Cyborg grunted as his screen flickered. "Do you smell anything?"

"Just burning peppermint. A snowman suit. Maybe a few leftover cupcakes. I didn't get a chance to check out the buffet table."

"Feel feverish?"

Beast Boy sniffed his arm. "I'm a bit sweaty."

"Are you getting itchy?"

"Nope."

"That doesn't make much sense. The flames are white, most likely from burning magnesium sulfate-"

"Burning what?" Beast Boy interrupted.

"Epsom salt; Robin soaks in it sometimes. When it burns, the flame is white and pretty hot. I'd assume there would be more fumes from the size of the fire but nada." Clicking his teeth, Cyborg smirked triumphantly as he dashed towards a particularly bright flame and stomped on it, causing it to glitch before disappearing. "We don't fight many cautious villains."

"So it's all fake?" Beast Boy said, surprised. Running over to a large, orange flame, he gulped at the sight of the falling ash and radiating heat. Creeping towards the flame as a lion, he closed his eyes, terrified and sweating furiously.

"Well, I think there's a few real o-"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" The feline began to howl as he shook his singed tail. He whimpered as he licked his tail gently, taming the burnt fur. "Could've warned me!"

Back in his human form, Beast Boy frantically checked for any burns as he pretended not to hear Cyborg snickering behind his back. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder pulling him to watch his teammates flanking the shivering fool, each clutching a starbolt or a fresh birdrang. As the cyborg began stalking towards the left, Beast Boy shifted into a quiet jaguar, retracting his claws as he prepared to cover the right.

Surely the doctor wouldn't be able to defend himself if he was surrounded. That was what Beast Boy thought before he heard someone scream, "Cover!" and felt the gym floor vibrate as his feet began to slip. His head whipped towards the sound of someone—most likely Starfire—being thrown over his head; Doctor Light had directed his beam downwards, risking damages to the school for his head. Diving towards a discarded snowman suit before Doctor Light shot another panicked beam, Beast Boy pulled his communicator out from his back pocket, hearing the gruff voice of his friend and the pitchy one of Light.

"Give it up Tin Can, your doohickeys and gadgets are no match for my pure light!"

Cyborg whispered into the microphone, "Cyborg to green bean, Cyborg to green bean, you alive?"

"Beast Boy to chrome dome, Beast Boy to chrome dome, unfortunately. Man, I hate this guy." He whimpered as he covered his eyes, hiding from the blinding light.

"Better than Plasmus. Anyw-" he grunted, "-ays, Light is unusually fast today. Something's definitely amplifying his powers; find it."

"Aye, aye." Slithering underneath the littered solo cups and candy bar wrappers, he made his way carefully through the snack bar and towards the wall. While he had originally planned to use the wall to navigate the stairs and find a vantage point perfect for an owl, he discovered a door, caught open by dozens of sparking wires.

Carefully leaping over the obstacle as a hare, Beast Boy huffed and wiped his brow, silently cursing the hot room. Under the bright flashlight of his communicator, Beast Boy observed a small plaque glued to the machinery reading GENERATOR.

"Cy, there's a ton of stuff connected to the generator in the back room. It's sweltering in here; I think it's being overworked."

Cyborg fuzzily responded, "Che— -he cords. He's pr—ably conn—t to one — them."

"I don't think I can touch them. They're like buzzing and sparking," he nervously said as he backed away from a sudden humming noise. "And there's like twenty things plugged here."

"Shit!" Something exploded in the background. "The fake snow is probably just unraveled cotton balls. Shove them in. I'll be there in a se-" The communicator buzzed.

Beast Boy grimaced as the sound of crunching metal echoed on the other side of the gymnasium. Likewise, he silently thanked the growing voices of the students as they began to panic again, attracting the attention of Doctor Light who looked like he had no clue what to do with them.

As a monkey, he began scooping up mounds of fluff, dashing back and forth as the generator continued to hum, crunch, and grind. At first, it appeared to have worked, until Beast Boy smacked his forehead, remembering that more light wasn't a good thing.

He scrambled out of the small room, fearing something might go wrong, only to come face to face with a room that glowed like the inside of a light bulb. Beast Boy noted that the light wasn't particularly harsh; while Doctor Light could easily stun anyone with it, this light was more gentle and comforting. He couldn't hear anything again. Odd. Picking up a shred of paper, he ripped it next to his ear, clearly hearing the ripping. Was he dead?

He opened his eyes to see the ethereal landscape morph into a shadowy pit of nothing and no one.

Beast Boy stepped forward.

Everything looked the same. Was he moving at all?

He heard the pest's voice again. It crept to his northwest and a more shrill scream came from the northeast. It cut off abruptly, making Beast Boy gulp as he wondered if he was next.

"Don't tell me you're still afraid of the dark?"

The limbs of shadow and smoke crept over his form, gently setting him down onto the floor as he drifted away.

This chapter took an embarrassing amount of time to write. To be completely honest, I planned to make this chapter much, much shorter until I really got into the battle scene and had a lot of fun writing out Doctor Light's plans. I don't know if I'll ever write a scene like this again, but it certainly was fun. Perhaps in a future chapter, I can study another villain and think of another elaborate plan.

-Catisa~Orsilla