Tim should have been staring and waiting to see if Clark was okay. He should have been dumbfounded by the scene and near death incident, but he was way ahead of Clark once he saw him stand and through the rising dust and rubble Tim could see growing flames on the other side. " 10-4." He responded. Police code? Where in the world did that come from? He didn't know a single person in the force. But he didn't have time to analyze it, he was busy climbing effortlessly over his demolished office wall into the smokey room. He started to spray the flames with the foamy white substance and bit his lip as he waited for the crackling to stop. The fire was half out when Clark suddenly flew back into his office again.
He cringed for him and his poor walls."Clark?!" Suddenly he was yanked apart from his extinguisher and felt a chill at the back of his neck that quickly spread, and his face paled sickly. He'd only heard about the ghost attacks in the other areas of the office, never actually saw one. But he knew the signs from the internet. Temperature drop was one of them. They hated rock salt and iron. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears as he looked around and saw an iron crow bar laying only an arms length away. Tim tried to reach for it but the ghost threw him down to the ground ontop of it instead, and Tim's head struck the ground. Disoriented and fuzzy he still managed to grab at the iron and swing through the figure. His hands shaking, he looked over his shoulder at the fire and stood on auto pilot to grab his fire extinguisher and finish putting the rest out.
"..Clark?" He fell through another wall. He survived one, but could he survive two? Or was it some freak thing the first time. He was scared to look. He couldn't even drop the crow bar. No way was he letting it go until he knew the ghost was gone.