Disclaimer: It's not mine.

A/N: Thank you again for the kind reviews! You guys are awesome! I'm so sorry for leaving this for a long time, things got hectic, but I will certainly try to, slowly but surely, update. I know there's a lot of description and not a lot of dialogue in this chapter, but it's just to serve as an intro to how everything works and to explain some of the school to the readers. Please, bear with me. All of the info is important, I promise!

CHAPTER TWO: SAME CHAOS, DIFFERENT DAY

Monday, September 7, 2009

There was a bus in the middle of the cafeteria.

A freaking bus.

Principal Chris Nolan had received a call a short while ago from the Dean of Students, Jim Gordon, saying that he needed to get down to the school ASAP because there was some kind of "situation." He'd rushed to the school to find quite a scene. The cafeteria was ripped to shreds, there were teenagers in clown masks passed out all over the place, lunch ladies who'd locked themselves in the back storage room, vibrantly colored paint everywhere, a missing cash register, a giant school bus conveniently parked dead center in the room…and a partridge in a pear tree.

Just kidding. Unless the partridge in a pear tree was Marge, who had been discovered in an almost fetal position, too stunned to give them any details of what had happened. She kept rocking back and forth with a blank stare on her wrinkled face, singing what Nolan thought was that children's song, "The Wheels on the Bus." Which was…odd.

When Gordon had described it as a situation, he certainly didn't expect to see this. Although really, he should've, since he'd worked here long enough to tell what Gordon's panicked tone actually meant.

Now, Nolan stood by the bus, watching the caution tape being strung up around the crime scene and the lunch ladies being questioned by Gordon, while the teens in clown masks were taken away to the hospital wing to recuperate before receiving their punishments. So many crimes occurred every year at GCHS that the Gotham City Police Department didn't bother to get involved. Gordon usually took care of these things himself. He liked it better that way. Less paper work.

Nolan glanced down at the Joker playing card he held. It had been uncovered lying on the floor by Marge. Obviously, whoever had been the mastermind behind this had meant to leave a calling card. Last year, there had been a psychotic student in the junior class calling himself Scarecrow and poisoning other students with some crazy hallucinogenic drug, which had caused the entire high school to erupt in mass panic, not to mention a certain Jonathan Crane (the Scarecrow, as they later revealed) blew up the science wing with his experimentations. It could've been worse, really. Considering the level of crime and violence in Gotham and the number of juvenile delinquents running around this school, things could've been much, much more catastrophic. But if the bus in his cafeteria was any indication of how this year was going to play out, then Nolan couldn't say he was exactly thrilled. This 'Joker' character was their newest threat, and they'd be lucky if the building and the student body got through the entirety of the year fully intact.

Hands on his hips, Gordon approached Principal Nolan. Nolan passed him the Joker card, which he tucked away into his suit jacket for safe keeping. Gordon peered over to where Marge was currently being escorted to the hospital wing by a nurse. She was barely moving on her own, and she hadn't blinked for about ten minutes.

"We may have lost Marge to Arkham."

"And after twenty years of working here," Nolan mused. "Just goes to show that no one is safe."

"The maintenance crew is going to clean up what they can. I'll go call someone to get an estimate for the damage and someone else to get the damn bus out of here." He sighed. "I need some caffeine."

Nolan glimpsed at his watch. "Kids start arriving yet?"

"Some," the Dean of Students replied, heading toward the exit of the cafeteria, intent on making a stop at the teacher's lounge. "Coffee?" he called to Nolan as an afterthought. "I may be able to slip a little something extra into it."

Although the thought of a pick-me-up sounded good, the principal answered with, "No, thank you. I'll be by the front entrance. Let me know when you've made those calls."

"Will do."

Shaking his head at the wreckage, Nolan left it behind him and went out into the main corridor of the vast high school. It was literally like Gotham's version of Hogwarts, minus the dorms because Nolan didn't feel the need to have the students sleep here. It would've probably created a plethora of other problems on top of the ones he had now. It would've been just an additional hassle. However, he had knowledge of students who did sleep at the school on occasion. He figured since it wasn't hurting anyone, he let it go. Nothing would change, anyway, if he'd said it was against school policy. A lot of students ignored those things called rules, thinking that they were, well, optional.

Yet another issue he and Gordon had to deal with.

But that was life in the most crime-ridden city in America. Naturally, the younger generations wouldn't fit in if half of them weren't delinquents.

Anyway, moving onward…

The school was a never-ending maze. Winding staircases on either end of the hallways led up to the other floors and down to the basement level, and there were a few elevators installed for faster travel. Most students opted for the stairs seeing as the elevators were often a pain to wait in line for, and the majority of the teens never felt like being packed into them like sardines. High, vaulted ceilings with ornate light fixtures were the norm throughout the building, in keeping with the castle architecture. There were a couple hundred classrooms—maybe more—and some weren't occupied or used for anything. It wasn't uncommon for the kids to take up residence in an empty room and use it for their own purposes. Nolan had tried to monitor these non-GCHS organized groups, but there were so many of them that it was pointless to even try.

There were white walls (well, they were supposed to be white, but they were in dire need of a paint job) where the natural slate gray brick wasn't exposed, often plastered with flyers and banners during the year. The lockers, painted with the school colors of black and silver, were on every level. They weren't the small ones, either—you could stand inside them comfortably even with all your crap stored in it (why you would want to do this is unknown, but it's a good fact for those unfortunate teens who got shoved into their lockers to be aware of). Nolan couldn't count how many times in a day he was called to a locker with the master key because someone had been stuffed into it by another student, and the combination lock had been secured. Each student had the privilege of owning his or her own locker, and if they wished to, they could keep that same locker for the duration of their stay at GCHS. Some even had multiple lockers and practically lived out of them.

The principal shuffled forward, taking in his beloved domain. It was almost a luxurious school, with the exception of the spider webs hidden in the corners, the dust, the graffiti, and the grime in the cracks in the floor and in those other often neglected spots, like the corridors that were rarely used these days. They had a difficult time keeping the place clean. For one, it was a big building, and two, the custodial staff gradually got smaller throughout the year despite the faculty hiring more during each summer. They would quit, get driven to the other mad house, mysteriously disappear, or…get killed.

Nolan repeatedly wondered how the school had managed to stay open this long. The real miracle was that the school hadn't completely blown up. Well, yet. He guessed that the city wanted to contain most of the juvenile delinquents in one place, so unfortunately for him, they all ended up here and the outside world turned their heads the other way whenever something horrible happened inside the walls. It wasn't all bad. What good was a job if it didn't constantly keep you on your toes? He preferred working at a place where every day was a challenge compared to some lame job where he would be stuck in a cubicle somewhere dealing with frustrating people and idiotic questions. The kids could be frustrating, but at least they were somewhat entertaining. Other people were just stupid and ignorant. Despite its corruption and constant mayhem, Nolan liked the little kingdom he'd created here at GCHS.

He neared the end of the hall, letting his eyes wander every which way. Some students—the early birds, overachievers, and teacher's pets just to name a few—had assembled by their lockers and offered a smile or small wave in greeting as he passed. Usually several of his renowned troublemakers arrived early, too; he figured they were lurking. And when they showed up, he would know. Their antics were hard to miss.

Polished shoes clicking on the tiled floor, Principal Nolan glanced at his watch again with a sigh. The morning rush of students would be arriving within minutes, and then the real fun began. But for now, he enjoyed the temporary calm (or as calm as this place could manage) that had settled over his realm. There were whispers of students talking about their summer, the squeak of a dry erase marker somewhere down the hall, and the smell of chalk and pencil graphite mixed, of course, with the heavenly aroma of coffee brewing in the teacher's lounge.

Principal Nolan keep on walking, pausing briefly to inspect the progress done to repair a large broken window belonging to one of the classrooms. It had been the result of Batman's latest escapade, when he did a very impressive James Bond-esque roll through the window, coming to the aid of a freshman who was being bullied by an upperclassman. The true identity of Gotham City High School's Batman was a mystery even to him, but he didn't have a problem with it. In fact, it helped the faculty--especially Jim Gordon--with maintaining some order, justice, and discipline in an often hectic setting.

Continuing down the hallway, Nolan stopped once he reached the short stairwell by the main entrance of the school. Arms crossed over his chest, he took a moment to admire the bronze plaque that hung on the wall near the landing, next to the large black and silver banner that stated boldly, 'GOTHAM CITY HIGH SCHOOL: HOME OF THE KNIGHTS'. A likeness of the school's founder, Mr. Bob Kane, had been engraved into the bronze, along with the date in which the high school had been established--the year 1939. And lo and behold, 70 years later, the place was still going strong. Unfortunately, the building wasn't up to par like it had been since it first opened, but that was expected in a city such as Gotham.

The front door of the school suddenly opened, interrupting Nolan's thoughts. The student was one he knew all too well, in fact. The kid was a sophomore; a fairly pudgy boy who'd probably received one too many fists colliding with his face. It didn't help any that he was an avid hockey player on the junior varsity team, gaining injuries there as well.

"Good morning, Brian." Nolan said brightly. He watched the young man climb the stairs cautiously, head snapping back and forth. The sophomore was incredibly paranoid, but he had perfect reason to be--Nolan remembered last year when poor Brian Douglas spent an entire day hiding out in the guidance office with Mr. Lucius Fox, refusing to attend class after he'd been victimized by a group of bullies. Sure, Brian was a hockey player, but he constantly got picked on--Nolan often wondered why he couldn't properly defend himself. He was like one of those sensitive tough guys. It didn't make sense.

"Is it…safe?" Brian's voice shook.

Nolan peeked around the corridor. He could never be sure where the resident bullies were lurking, and frankly, they scared the crap out of him (he would never admit that to anyone but himself), but he offered a reassuring smile to Brian nevertheless.

"No, I believe you're safe for now."

Brian cringed. For now. Story of his freakin' life.

And with that, he trudged down the hall toward his locker, praying to the heavens that there wasn't some kind of sick, horrific surprise waiting for him. The thumbtack taped underneath his combination lock hadn't been too pleasant last year. Or the other thumbtacks (presumably the rest of the box) that had been tossed into his gym sneakers, either. It seemed that no matter how many friggin' times Brian changed his combination lock, or went out of his way to avoid any trouble, he was always an easy target in this damned place. He cursed his parents for not letting him transfer.

Nolan peeked out the doors to see the busses pulling in and cars stopping in front of the building. The morning rush was here. He had to steel himself quickly for another day, another year at his insanely beloved high school. He moved out of the way, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, with a look on his face similar to a spectator at a show. In fact, watching the students enter Gotham City High School was like witnessing a red carpet affair for the Oscars…minus all the glitz and glamour, hellacious interviews, and mobs of paparazzi. It was common knowledge that GCHS had its fair share of "celebrities"—students who were popular because they didn't even have to try, or they had all the right connections, or they had more or less done something worthy of notoriety. It was part of the intricate, ruthless food chain of high school. Here, it was just downright brutal on most days. But, Nolan figured they'd done it to themselves—he didn't have any control over the social networking that the students were involved in. Teens would be teens. Or, in his case, an interesting not-so-balance of good and evil.

He just hoped the kid behind this morning's bus-through-the-cafeteria-cash-heist-and-paintball-gun-Joker-card stunt would show.

Nolan wanted to know exactly what he'd be up against this year.