I have been planning this plot point since I started writing the 5 gap years, so I really hope you like it. As always, review with your thoughts! Especially for this one! And Happy Thanksgiving! :)

Mallory's resolve to take her mandatory time off from being Inferno and use it as a vacation only lasted for two days before she was calling her friends for updates on missions and details on their patrols. She quickly found that the second-hand high wasn't enough to keep her satisfied, and she threw her pent-up energy into training Brion, until even calling him her protege wouldn't keep him in the training room for more than an hour. When that failed, all she had left was her work, but she found that without her side job she had too much time on her hands, and even taking on extra cases at the office couldn't fill the hours she was used to keeping. She felt like she was going crazy, and she found herself in the training room of the Watchtower most afternoons, sparring with anyone who happened to be up there, training by herself, training the team. She even offered to do monitor duty for Barry, who hated it more than anything, and he'd just given her a strange look and told her to go home. After three weeks of running in circles, she finally had to accept that things were going to take more time than she'd thought to settle down.

One evening, she was in her apartment fixing dinner, the news on in the living room and Dick on speaker on the counter. "So?" she asked, dishing her fried chicken, homemade mashed potatoes, and greens onto a plate and bringing it and her phone to the living room to eat on the couch.

"So what? I talked to you two days ago, Mal, what do you want me to tell you?"

"Well, what happened with those bases Terra told you about?" she asked. She took a bite of the chicken and wrinkled her nose, pushing the plate away. She'd thought about trying to learn to use an actual stove and oven to cook since she had the extra time, but apparently she did better cooking in her hands. She didn't know how Megan made everything she touched taste so good.

"We shut them down, got about twenty more kids out of the ring," he told her.

She nodded. The Martian had told her as much when she'd talked to her the day before. "How many centers does that make it? Three?"

"Four," he replied. "But by now they'll be on the move, shutting down anything she or any of these other kids would know about."

She nodded, her eyes trailing to the TV. A picture of the Bat signal came up and she leaned forward, unmuting it. G. Gordon Godfrey was reporting on the order to decommission the Bat signal after certain things had come to light about Batman and the League. This led to a picture of Metropolis, and the news reporter continued, "and on that note, the man-hunt, or, I suppose the proper term here would be woman hunt. Inferno is still on the loose, and considered armed and dangerous. Armed, ha! Just how is the public supposed to sleep at night knowing that this arsonist and murderer is still on the loose? And there seems to be a gross negligence, or incompetence, from the authorities to bring her to justice. Even the Big Blue is staying out of it."

It cut to a recorded interview from Cat Grant, who managed to corner Superman after a train derailed in the business district several days ago. "Superman! Superman! Is it true that you are aiding Inferno in her escape? Is she really guilty?"

The Man of Steel just narrowed his eyes slightly at the reporter. "No comment," he said evenly, and he flew away before she could ask anything else.

It went back to Godfry and he scoffed. "'No comment'?" he repeated, air quoting the words. "Really? You would think if she really were innocent," he smirked at the words, interrupting himself by muttering, "like we really believe that," then continued, "she would be eager to come forward and get this figured out. Even if everything the League's Catherine Cobert says is true, I don't think I could trust her after she went into hiding at the first sign of trouble. Of course, I could always be wrong. Let's hear from some of the residents of Metropolis, shall we?"

A split screen showed taped responses to the basic question of if they trusted Inferno. "I don't know what to believe anymore," one woman said, holding her little girl a little closer. "Thinking about this person who could burn us in our sleep with a thought if she wanted to." The next person interviewed was a young man, maybe in his mid twenties. He just glared at the camera and said, "I don't get why she was considered a hero for as long as she was. Same goes for half the League. The whole Reach thing was their fault, but they're all still walking free. Well, maybe that can start to change." Another person, a man with dark hair and a sad look on his face said, "I used to believe in heroes, but now…I just feel so let down, you know? I just hope she actually gets what's coming to her."

She shook her head, pressing the mute button so hard she left a nail print in the center of it. "What else is going on?" she asked, focusing back on her phone call.

"Honestly? Nothing much."

"What about in Gotham? I saw they shut the Bat signal down, what really happened with that?"

He sighed. "Exactly what was reported, people started protesting and the mayor thought shutting it down would help keep the peace."

"I'll bet he took that well," she said sarcastically.

"I doubt it, but I haven't seen him since before it happened. Jess and Tim weren't too happy about it, though. They're already running themselves into the ground with this new guy trying to run the drug market, and now petty crimes will triple with the crooks thinking Batman isn't welcome in Gotham."

"Ohh, there's a new guy in Gotham?" she asked, interested. Gotham's rogues gallery hadn't changed very much in all the years she'd been on the team, so it was always a big deal when a new player moved in.

"I don't know, they haven't even seen him yet, all they have is a name. He goes by the Red Hood."

"Huh," Mallory said. "That's dramatic, for a drug dealer."

"He's not just a drug dealer, he's trying to take control of all the organized crime organizations, starting at the tops. The cops have been finding bodies of the lieutenants dumped in the river and left half burned, and without their heads. And the name is weird."

"Why?"

"It's what Joker went by before he fell in the acid and lost the last bit of humanity he might have had."

"So, a copycat?"

"Yeah, maybe," he replied, but he didn't sound convinced.

They drifted into silence again while Dick worked on whatever he was doing and Mallory tried to eat more of her dinner and pushed it away for a second time. She was about to get up to throw it away when her comm on the table vibrated slightly, signaling an incoming transmission. She tilted her head and picked it up, putting it in her ear and hitting the button to accept the call. "Inferno here," she answered.

"Hey, T, you miss me?" a weak voice said from the other end.

"Jr?" she asked, her heart skipping a beat at the familiar sound. Well, mostly familiar. "Are you ok?" A gun went off on his end and he let out a yell. "Cam?!" All she heard for a long moment was his sharp, ragged breathing. "Cameron?!" she yelled, her tone demanding.

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Uh, is your offer to help me get away from my dad still good?"

"Oh, no," she breathed, the blood draining from her face as she realized what was happening. "Cam, where are you?" She could hear him still fighting in the background, his groans as she could only assume he was getting hit. She was already moving, her mask in her hand as she started to pull on her suit.

"I'm at the old HQ."

She pulled on her jacket, her comm now securely in her ear as she listened to the background noise to try to piece together exactly what she was about to walk into. "I'm on my way, just hold on, ok?"

He forced a chuckle that turned to a cough and then a groan. "Yeah, I'll try." He paused, then added, "Tana?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Hurry."

Her heart tugged in her chest at the same time as alarm spiked through it. His voice was so faint, trusting, and scared. She had almost made it to the window when she noticed her phone sitting on the table where she'd left it, still on the call with Dick. She debated telling him, but in the end she just hopped out onto the fire escape, flying up and towards the suicide slum. She already knew he would tell her not to go, that he would tell someone else to handle it, and she didn't want to hear it. This wasn't just about getting out, this was Cameron, and by the time someone else could be called, it might be too late.

She didn't have to look hard to remember which alley had the secret door. There were signs of a fight clearly evident in the area around, some of which was ice, which told her that Jr had managed to get out of the compound. That gave her some hope, at least. Maybe he had managed to find somewhere to hide out until she got there.

A series of gunshots broke into her thoughts, and she spun in the direction of the sound, taking off at double speed, praying the whole way that she wasn't too late. The guns stopped just as she crested the last building, and when she looked down into the alley, she saw Icicle Jr cornered, his back to a wall, his hand pressed to his stomach, and his eyes wide as they stared at the barrel of the gun his father was aiming at his head. Her heart spiked in her chest and she cut her flames completely, letting gravity plummet her towards the ground, only catching herself when she was feet from the pavement.

The gun went off before she reached the ground, the bullet ripping into her side until she finally got her temperature hot enough to melt it halfway through her. She swallowed a cry and snatched the weapon out of Icicle Senior's hand, throwing it to the side of the alley. It continued to melt on the concrete, glowing red in the darkness.

Everyone froze for a few seconds, then it all erupted into chaos. The small army of thugs backing up Senior opened fire, forcing Mallory to put up a shield that spanned the width of the alley. The sudden fire made some of the closer opponents, including Cameron's father, back up slightly, but they didn't leave. She took a breath, looking down to examine her side. The melted metal was dripping out along with the blood, and she decided that it was just a flesh wound. She took a breath, relaxing her tensed shoulders, then looked over her shoulder. "You–?"

She froze when she finally got her first good look at her ex. He had slumped to the ground, both hands pressed to the hole in his stomach that was oozing blood even through the ice he'd shot over it. He had swelling and gashes all over his body, he was pale, even for him, and he looked like he was struggling to stay awake, his chest heaving as he tried to handle the pain. She backed up to the wall and knelt next to him, keeping the shield up with one hand and pulling her mask off with the other.

He looked up weakly. "You came."

She scoffed, about to give him a sarcastic answer and start fussing at him for putting himself in this situation, but with the way he looked, she was suddenly afraid that he wouldn't last past her answer. Her face relaxed, showing her true expression. "Always," she murmured, looking over his injuries. Her eyes snagged on his stomach, the ugly, gaping, ragged bullet hole too far to the center to be nothing, and her eyes started to burn, her tears blurring her vision before she blinked them away.

"That bad, huh?" Cameron said.

She narrowed her eyes, forcing her emotions away, for his sake. "No," she said quickly, keeping her gaze on the wound. He kept his eyes on her until she finally had to look at him, her helplessness clear in her face.

"You know, for a thief and a murderer, you're a pretty bad liar," he said, a ghost of a smile coming to his face. She sank back on her heels, her mind stilling as a laugh bubbled out, the tears she was holding back making their way to the surface. The smile stayed on his face as he leaned his head against the wall, his eyelids seeming to get heavier. "I'm glad you came," he said quietly. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather have with me now." He finally gave up the battle and let his eyes close, and she suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of panic take over, sitting up and grabbing his shoulder.

"No! Cameron, do not go to sleep, do you hear me?!"

He forced his eyes open, struggling to focus them on her. "It's ok, Tana. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called you, but I'm glad I don't have to die alone."

"Shut up," she said, racking her brain for a way out of this. She couldn't bring him to a normal hospital, they would be too concerned about calling the police on both of them to try to save him, and she couldn't bring him to the League, she wasn't even supposed to be out, much less aiding and abetting her felon ex boyfriend. Catherine would have a heart attack if she knew about this. She couldn't bring him back to Belle Reve, where he wouldn't be a priority and the workers, including the so-called doctors, would probably rather him be dead anyway. She looked back down at him, her heart cracking painfully as she took it all in again. He was slipping away, even keeping his eyes open was a struggle now, and he was losing more blood by the second. She narrowed her eyes and put her mask back on, grabbing his arm and putting it over her shoulder. "Come on."

His head lolled in the air for a moment before he realized he was moving. "What are you doing?" he asked weakly.

"Getting you out of here," she told him, dragging him to his feet and holding him up with her free arm. She got a good grip and started shooting flames out of her feet, getting them out of the area. The fire shield went down once they cleared the roofs, and she used her other hand to get a better grip on her passenger, holding him bridal style since she didn't think he had the strength to hold onto her for the whole flight. When she leveled out, she looked at him again, only to find his concerned gaze fixed on her.

"What are you doing?" he asked again.

She shook her head. "I told you, I'm getting you help," she said.

He kept his eyes on her, the acceptance in them making her realize that the concern on his face wasn't for himself, it was for her. "It's too late, T. You know that."

She clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing to slits as she fought breaking down by changing the sadness to anger. She was far more familiar and comfortable with the burning rage sitting in her chest than with the grief painfully chipping away a little more of her heart. "You're not going to die, do you hear me?" she said firmly. "I swear, if you even think about it, I will kill you myself."

"Sure you will."

"Haven't you been watching the news? I kill so many people, I'll probably forget about killing you within a week."

He chuckled, ending it in a cough that had blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. She felt an involuntary shiver go down her spine despite the flames licking her back. He finally had to put his head on her shoulder, and he had to shake his head every few seconds, still trying to hang on for her sake. His breathing was so shallow, though, and he was so, so pale. She tried to steel herself against what was very likely to happen, but she couldn't. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose another person that she loved. She wouldn't.

"Just hold on a little longer," she begged, her whisper getting lost in the wind. "Please."

"Hey, Alex, you ready to go?" Maria asked, packing her bag and logging out of the computer.

He looked at the stack of medical notes he still needed to write up. "No, not yet. I have to get these finished. I didn't have a second all day to get caught up."

"I know, it was really crazy today," his colleague agreed, shouldering her purse. She shrugged and added, "must have been a full moon or something. You ok to stay here alone? I don't mind staying a little while."

"No, go home, I'll be fine. We closed hours ago, and no one's tried to break in here in months." Maria hesitated at the door, and he rolled his eyes. "Go," he said again, flashing her a reassuring smile. "I can take care of myself."

She smiled and nodded. "All right. See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you," he replied, and turned back to his work. He heard the lock click back into place after his friend closed the door, and he didn't give it a second thought. He and Maria had come back to the clinic after graduating from medical school, drawn to the people that the clinic was helping. There were only two other doctors employed now, both of whom had trained them, but they had all gone now, leaving him alone to finish his work, like most nights. He never could quite finish all of the work this place threw at him, but then, he wouldn't have had it any other way.

A few minutes passed with the only sound being the clicking of the keyboard as his fingers flew over the keys, but then he heard something that made him pause mid-diagnosis and look up. The clinic was small, only three large rooms, one of which was separated in the middle by a half wall, with the waiting area on one half and the reception desk/doctors' offices on the other. From his chair at the corner of the desk, he could see out the plexiglass door, though the scratched, fogged-up glass didn't give him a very clear view. It was enough to confirm that he was hearing footsteps, and they stopped right in front of the door.

His heart sped up slightly as he watched the figure drop something on the ground, then try the door. When it didn't pull, the person raked a hand through their hair, and then, too fast for him to really prepare, they picked up the second figure again and kicked the door in. He fell out of his chair, his eyes darting around quickly for something to defend himself with, but when he popped back up, all he had was a pen and a clipboard. He froze, though, nearly dropping the items when he saw who had just broken in. There was no mistaking the newly fallen hero Inferno, or the half dead supervillain slumped at her side.

"Are you alone?" she asked, a device making her voice sound scratchy and deep.

He didn't answer, not knowing what to do. He knew better than to say he was and make it an easy decision to kill him, but then, what was she here for anyway?

It didn't matter, she looked around for a second and took his silence as a yes. She nodded to her companion. "He needs help," she said, starting to walk towards him.

He backed up, adrenaline flowing through his body as his amygdala responded to the stress. "No! Stay there," he said, his hands fumbling around behind him for the panic button. All he needed to do was press it and the cops would be there in two minutes. Well, that's what they'd told him, anyway. He'd never tried it before…

"Please! He's dying, you have to do something!" she said, and even through the device disguising her voice, he could hear the genuine fear in it. It made him pause his search for a moment.

"Why should I?" he asked, surprised at how strong his voice was.

"I could make you," she said, and her eyes began to glow, flames leaping out of them through the mask. He took a shaky breath, his gaze shifting to the would-be patient. He could already tell just by looking at him that it was probably a lost cause, and he didn't know what the protocol was for helping a supervillain while another one was ready to take him away from justice. He didn't say anything, and her demeanor started to change, get more desperate. "You're a good man, Alex. You wouldn't just let a man die and not at least try to help him."

Alarm shot through his chest when the meta said his name. "How do you know that?" he asked. "How do you know my name?"

"Because," she started, then sighed and clicked something on her suit and looked down, pulling off her mask. He narrowed his eyes, not believing what was happening, and then she looked up and he stumbled backwards a step, his jaw actually dropping as Mallory continued, "I know you a lot better than you know me."

"...Mallory?" he asked, shaking his head. This couldn't be real. He must have fallen asleep over his work, and this was all some crazy dream.

She walked over to him, dragging her burden with her. "I know you must have a million questions," she said, her voice quivering slightly, "and you deserve answers to all of them, but please, save my friend." Alex felt frozen, like his feet were literally glued to the floor. He couldn't have moved them in that moment if he wanted to, and she narrowed her eyes. "You said once if I ever needed something, I could call you. Well, right now, I need you. Please, save him."

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