FSE

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Now we're in the ring

And we're coming for blood

(Lorde)

---

"Waa-AAA-augh," I panted, staring at the ceiling.

"Exactly," Andy grinned, propping his cheek up on his hand as he lay on his side next to me.

"That was... great," I breathed after a few moments of silence while I struggled to regain my ability to speak the English language.

"Aw," the jackal-god pouted out his lower lip. "Only great?"

"Completely and utterly mind-blowing," I corrected hastily, not being completely sarcastic. "I--I thought that the first time was amazing, but you topped even that,"

My body was still tingling. What in the hell had he done to me? Whatever it was, it felt incredible.

Shifting over, I rested my cheek on Andy's chest. I closed my eyes, just existing in the moment. Soft, silken sheets, the gentle tickle of Andy's fingers caressing my body, the sweet fragrance of his skin, the reassuring warmth of his body... It had been a long time since I'd felt this happy, this present, hell, this alive.

I craned my neck up a little, kissing Andy along his neck and down the center of his chest. My lips fumbled across the pendant on the thin golden chain that hung perpetually around his neck.

"What would happen if I took this off you? Would I get to join the immortals club?" I murmured playfully, taking the pendant into my mouth. I could feel a slight, almost electric tingle on my tongue.

"Then you would die screaming," Andy replied matter-of-factly, squeezing my rump.

"Well,that got really dark really quick," I commented, letting the pendant slip through my teeth and fall back onto his chest.

"C'mon! I'm kidding," Andy grinned, kissing me on the cheek and ruffling my hair. He paused, the hint of a frown flitting across his face. "At least, pretty sure I'm kidding. It's just a... symbol, I guess. Reminded the mortals who was top jackal back when folks actually gave two fucks about me,"

"See, I figured you stomping around through their cities at a couple hundred feet tall would be enough of a reminder," I shrugged.

"I guess. But when that was going on, this bad boy was the only thing I wore," Andy pointed out, thumbing the small golden ankh.

"Mm. I guess that drives it all home, then," I ran my hand along Andy's side. "You really aren't a fan of clothes, are you? Not that I'm complaining..."

"Eh, spend enough time in a boiling hot desert and you'll realize how liberating it can be walking around in your birthday suit," the jackal said.

"Makes the whole tailoring thing a little odd of a choice," I replied. "Then again, I guess it was odd from the start. You're supposed to be in charge of the afterlife or something, right? Why don't you work at, I dunno, a funeral parlor or something?"

Andy chuckled deeply. "And be a complete cliché? I think not. Besides. Why would I want to deal with all those smelly dead bodies and embalming fluid and all that? No thanks. I'll pass,"

"I hear there's good money in it," I shrugged.

"I'll be sure to tell my financial advisor all about that," Andy replied. "Now, were we here to talk or to fuck? Because I forgot,"

"Mm, definitely the latter," I murmured appreciatively.

"Oh, good. Because there I was thinking that the opposite was the case,"

"So, then, where were we?"

Andy reminded me quite thoroughly.

*****

While I didn't enjoy being held at gunpoint much at all, I cared for the present situation even less. Tabitha's grip constricted me like a vice. Try as I might, I couldn't budge an inch, and any movement I did manage just earned a grunt of complaint from Guillam, who was smashed up against my back.

Tabitha sat cross-legged in the center of the courtyard, clutching me and Guillam in one fist while Ciaran remained trapped in the palm of her other hand. One of her feet rested on the rooftop of a smaller building, causing the corrugated aluminum to buckle and protest. I could hear the tip of her tail flicking back and forth against the wall of the hangar from which she had emerged.

My captor's gaze flicked restlessly back and forth between her hands, studying her prey with an odd little half-smile playing on her lips. I swallowed, hardening my resolve as I scrambled frantically for some sort of plan. She looked hungry, and getting eaten by a crazed ferretess was definitely not on my agenda for the day.

"We should have waited for fucking backup," Guillam hissed at me, his muzzle pressed up against the side of my head. "This was fucking stupid,"

"Thanks, Captain Hindsight," I snapped quietly in response. "That sounds like you're thinking real hard on how to get us the fuck out of here. Let's save the bitching for after we're safe, okay? Sound good?"

My partner didn't have time to cook up one of his typically scathing retorts, as Tabitha rumbled back into action. Scared as I was to admit it, whoever had gotten to her, they'd done a bang-up job with the whole Ludovico thing. She hardly seemed like a person anymore, much less her usual self.

"Do you have any idea what it's like to have this much power, Ciaran?" Tabitha hissed, her voice crackling with quiet menace. "What am I saying? Of course you don't. But I do. It's... incredible. Intoxicating. The things I can do,"

"Tab..." Ciaran's voice was wafer thin, wavering in the frosty air.

"I don't know why the lot of you trekked all the way out here. Did you think you were going to 'rescue' me or something? Like I needed any of that. You assume I'm miserable here, but I'm not,"

"We came--I, er, actually, I wanted to talk about something with you,"

"And what's that?"

"Do you remember when we met for the first time?"

A cruel smile flickered across Tabitha's lips and her eyes glittered. "Of course I do. Are you developing early-early-onset Alzheimer's or something? Bump your head and need a refresher?"

Ignoring Tabitha's taunts, Ciaran pushed forward tentatively but firmly on... well, whatever course he was on.

"Could you tell me about that time?" he asked quietly.

Tabitha was silent for a moment, chewing on her lip as she studied Ciaran. Had her expression softened just a little bit?

"It was lunchtime, I think,"

"Yeah,"

"And I was sitting there in the courtyard. You came up to me. I don't know what the fuck you're getting at with this. If you think this stupid trip down memory lane changes anything for you, you've got another thing coming,"

"Just go on. Do you remember what I said?"

"Fuck this,"

"I said that where you was my usual sitting and eating lunch alone spot. But you were alone too, so I supposed that it wouldn't hurt for us both to be alone together for a little while.

"I was pretty scared. You were so big and all of the rumors I'd heard about you and the previous school had gotten around in morning classes. But I dunno. There was still something that pushed me to go and talk with you. You seemed somehow so... gentle. You put on this abrasive demeanor, but I think that I knew on some level that you just felt alone and maybe a little bit scared. And I think that's how you feel now, too. But we can take you away and make that--"

"--Oh, blow all that drivel out your ass!" Tabitha spat venomously. Her hand clenched tight around the mink, her thumbnail pressing up against his throat. "I don't need lectures from you about this shit."

"Just walk away from this!" Ciaran squeaked, clutching at Tabitha's thumb. "Come with us. Please. This isn't you,"

"Oh, this is me," Tabitha said. Her eyes blazed with a wild fire. I could feel her shaking a little.

As if to prove that she was still in charge of the situation, she tightened her grip on Guillam and me. Her gaze flicked in our direction.

"Tell you what, Ciaran," she said slowly and softly. "Which of these two should I eat first? I'll let you pick,"

The ferretess' thumb traced its way up my chest. I bit back a strangled cry as the thumbnail raked across my face. Hot, thick blood gushed from the gash, blurring my vision.

"D-don't," Ciaran stammered.

Tabitha smirked triumphantly in response. I was too numb to offer response or resistance. The wound throbbed angrily.

"Tabitha, please don't. This isn't... Tab, I love you," Ciaran said softly.

"I hate you," Tabitha shot back, an edge of desperation entering her voice.

"I love you," the mink persisted. "I love you,"

"Shut up!" Tabitha's eyes were damp.

"I really do, Tab. I love you. You don't need to do any of this. You don't have to do anything. Please. Walk away. I love you. I love you so much,"

"I--"

Everything happened in an instant. My stomach plunged as Tabitha rocketed to her feet, holding her hands at chest level. Shots rang out and I heard Guillam cry out in pain. Ciaran clung to Tabitha's uplifted thumb, trying to maintain his balance.

"I've fucked up so badly," Tabitha breathed.

"Go go go!" I bellowed, wiping blood out of my eyes. It was not the time for indecisiveness. "Get us the fuck out of here!"

Ignoring the crowd of people firing at her, Tabitha took off running. Glad as I was about her change of heart, I could do without the jostling and jarring. Car journeys were much smoother, suffice it to say. Speaking of which...

"The car!" I shouted, pounding on the ferretess' knuckle. "Thecarthecarthecar! Get the car!"

We didn't have much time to spare, but I really didn't want to have to deal with the wrath of my supervisor if I lost an agency vehicle.

"Where?" Tabitha panted.

"Down there! Under the trees," I pointed.

The ferretess had just cleared the barbed-wire fence and was scrambling down the gravel road leading away from the compound. Depositing Ciaran onto her shoulder, she stooped down mid-stride and scooped up the seemingly shoe-sized vehicle.

Tabitha fled through the frigid darkness, seeming to have no sense of direction other than to get away from the compound. A couple of times she slipped on the uneven, snowy ground, but managed to maintain her balance, cutting onwards through the forest.

After what seemed like an age, Tabitha skidded to a halt on the banks of an alpine lake, slumping down on the steeply sloping shore. Her grip on Guillam and I slackened and we slipped through her fingers down onto the rough pebble beach.

I glanced up at Tabitha's slumped form. She sprawled there like the world's largest ragdoll, staring blankly across the water through glazed eyes. She breathed raggedly, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Guillam remained seated as I scrambled unevenly to my feet. My entire body ached, but at least the pain emanating from the gash on my cheek had subsided to a dull throb. My partner was hunched over, guarding his shoulder. Crouching down, I moved his hand aside to examine the damage.

"Ouch!" he inhaled sharply as I pulled aside his jacket to reveal the bullet hole. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"You've been shot,"

"No shit, Sherlock," the cross fox grunted. "Kinda figured that--ow--out when I heard the gun and then felt that,"

"It isn't bad. Passed through cleanly. Got lucky there, guy," I said, inspecting the wound closely. "Can you move your arm?"

Guillam tested it tentatively, grimacing in pain as he swiveled his arm a little this way and that. "Sure. Hurts like a bitch, though,"

"Okay. Good. Must've missed the bone. I just need to go find some stuff to patch you up. Be right back,"

Dusting off my hands on my knees, I left Guillam and walked around Tabitha towards the car. I found the first aid kit in the glove compartment and returned hastily, producing several patches of gauze and a length of adhesive tape. The first few got soaked through, but I was able to get him all bound up before too long.

"Feeling a bit better already. Maybe they'll give me some sort of raise or bonus or something for getting injured on the job," Guillam grinned (or gritted his teeth in something approximating a grin, rather) up at me. His face fell a little as he noticed the gash cutting across my face. "That looks pretty nasty. Better disinfect that before something nasty sets in. Might need a few stitches,"

"I'll be fine. Nothing too bad," I shook my head. "Scratch. That's it,"

"Bullshit," Guillam shook his head. Having nothing of my stoic act, he was already bandaging up the scratch.

We both stopped, looking up at Tabitha. Her face was blank as she stared out across the water. It was as if everything else had ceased to exist for her. Guillam and I exchanged glances, unsure of how to proceed. Ciaran was nowhere to be seen, having wandered off almost as soon as we'd come to rest there.

"Why don't you go check out the car, Peter?" I suggested to Guillam. He was never really the best in the tact department, and I didn't want to risk exacerbating Tabitha's doubtlessly fragile mental condition.

As Guillam went around to inspect the condition of the agency car, I approached the sobbing ferretess. Resting a hand on her ankle, for that was about as far up as I could reach comfortably, I called out softly to her. She seemed to shake herself into awareness, shifting slightly to look down at me.

"Do you want to talk?" I asked gently.

Tab looked intently at me for several moments in silence, her eyes damp. She blinked several times in quick succession, shaking her head again as if to clear it.

"Because if you do, it's totally fine. I'm here," I persisted.

"Hmm," Tabitha said with an air of finality.

Leaning forward, she trailed her fingertips into the chill water of the lake, slowly swishing them back and forth. I cursed myself softly. Smooth going, Warren. Great job of lending some support there.

Taking her gesture as a closure to the conversation, I shuffled over to Guillam, crouched next to the car.

"The chassis is broken," he declared in frustration, wiping a smear of grease off his cheek.

"Really?"

"I think? Haven't a fucking clue. I know how to drive these things, not _fix_them!" Guillam snapped. "It won't start, and the structure seems fucked up anyway. Point is, we won't be driving this thing any time soon,"

"They're gonna fucking love that when we turn it back in," I commented sourly. Shit. Just what I needed to hear: non-functional car. The cherry on the godsdamned triple-decker double-chocolate cake that was this evening. "Guess it's gonna be back to Saaduuts on foot tomorrow, then,"

"Oh_I'm_ sure as hell not walking," Guillam snapped. He pointed in Tabitha's direction. "I'm hitching a ride,"

"I think I'm gonna go and have a talk with our... ride, as you so crudely put it," I said.

Tabitha was staring at the dark surface of the lake through unfocused eyes as I walked down the sloping pebbled beach towards her.

"Mind if I join?" I asked Tabitha, sitting on a gnarled log at the lake's shore.

The ferretess shrugged slightly, so I took that as a 'yes', or at least a 'whatever'. At least it was something. We sat there in silence for a while. I looked up at the night sky. Away from the city lights, the stars had taken on a sharper appearance, flakes of crystal on a black velvet cloth. Everything seemed remote, foreign.

"I remember this lake," Tabitha said at length. "My parents always took me camping when I was young. I think they were trying to engender some sort of outdoorsiness in me, but all I remember enjoying were the S'mores at night.

"We came here once in the summer. They took me down to the lake, but I was terrified to go swimming. It seemed so deep," she laughed softly, bitterly. "I guess it really isn't, after all. More like a really big bath tub,"

She fell quiet again, the soft sloshing of the water the only thing that punctuated the silence. It almost felt worse than when she had been crying.

"Where is Ciaran?" Tabitha asked.

"I think he went off somewhere,"

Tabitha's ears drooped and her shoulders slumped lower. "He's scared of me,"

"I think he just wanted to be alone for a little while," I said. "He's got a lot of stuff to work through. We all do,"

"How am I supposed to mend things with him?" Tabitha stared at me, eyes wide and imploring.

"Tab, we don't need to talk or have some sort of deep heart-to-heart or anything if you don't want to," I said slowly. "But, for what it's worth, you've been really brave today. Fighting against all that... indoctrination. I don't have any idea what you've been through. How could I? And I'm not going to insult you by guessing and trivializing what that was like for you.

"But what you do need to know is that you aren't alone now, okay? I'm here and Peter's here and so is Ciaran. We want to help you any way we can. You're away from all of those horrible, horrible things, and you're coming home.

"But for tonight, just rest easy as best you can. Tomorrow, we'll be home and maybe we can start putting all of this behind us. There's a lot that you need to work through, but there's time for that once we're all safe and sound in Saaduuts,"

The ferretess offered no response, but I thought I saw her nod her head fractionally. I smiled up at her, kicking my legs back and forth a little bit through the water.

"I think we should get some rest," I suggested, getting up and dusting a cascade of sand off my pants. "Come at tomorrow with a fresh mindset,"

I took my leave, walking off towards Guillam and the banged-up car, drawing my coat closer around me. Hopefully the sedan would afford a little protection from the biting cold.

"I'm glad you came," Tabitha called softly after me once I'd passed a short distance away.

I turned to face her, hands still shoved deep into my pockets.

"I don't know how things would have turned out if you hadn't come," she said haltingly.

"Of course we were going to come," I said, smiling thinly at her. "I only wish we could have come sooner,"

Guillam was leaning against the car as I walked up to him.

"Already called the back seat," he declared.

"Oh, fuck you," I whined.

"Don't hate me because I'm faster," If he'd been in elementary school, he would have stuck his tongue out. He probably wanted to now.

"I didn't want to sleep there, anyway," I sniffed, pulling open the passenger door and slipping into the seat. I made sure to push the seat back as far as I possibly could. Suck on that, Peter.

"Should we go and find Ciaran?" Guillam asked sleepily as I rolled up a small towel I'd found in the glove compartment to serve as a makeshift pillow.

"He knows where we are," I shrugged. "Let's let him alone for awhile. Give him some time to think,"

"If he falls off a fucking mountain or something, that's your tail on the line," Guillam said, though he seemed too tired to argue.

Feeling pretty tired myself, I reclined the seat a little, trying (and mostly failing) to make myself comfortable. I pulled out my mobile, setting it next to the gear shift. I hesitated, then picked it up again, flicking open the directory.

"I think I ought to call Roger," I said to Guillam, half an apology for keeping him up any longer. "Fill him in. Let him know we've got Tab. I think he ought to know, seeing as he's with MACRO and all that,"

Guillam shook his head in disbelief. "You twins are so fucking weird," he said. "How do you even get service out here in East Bumblefuck?"

"Satphones, man," I shrugged.

*****

I exhaled softly, gazing out at the blue-tinged semi-darkness of the bedroom. The sheets felt soft against my body as I lay on my side. Were it not for the reassuring warmth of Andy's body pressed close to my back, it would have felt like I was floating on a cloud. I was in a cocoon, secure, safe, and contented. It just felt good to have someone next to me. Reaching back, I gave the jackal-god's hand a squeeze. He slept soundly; I was never that good at falling asleep quickly.

Just as my lids started to grow heavy, my mobile leaped to life on the bedside table, rending the silence with a tin-can version of the latest Mouse Rat single. I really didn't like that group, but Reynard had changed the ringtone as a joke. I'd been too lazy to change it back, and then too sad to after his accident.

Grumbling to myself, I pushed the sheets and blankets off myself and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I picked up the mobile and put it to my ear.

"Smith-White," I answered groggily, trying to keep my voice low.

For a moment, I pondered going out into the living room or something so as not to disturb the slumbering jackal, but I was too comfortable to try moving.

"Oh, it's you," I grumbled upon discovering the caller to be my brother. "Do you have any idea what time it is? You should be in bed,"

I cursed inwardly as I heard the sheets rustling behind me. Should have taken the call elsewhere. Too late now, I supposed.

"Slow down, slow down," I murmured at Warren, starting to wake up fully as I became aware of his apparent concern over whatever situation into which he'd gotten stuck.

"Who's that?" came Andy's silky rumble in my other ear.

I felt the jackal sitting behind me, his knees on either side of my hips. Leaning back a little, I rested my shoulders against his chest. Andy's arm reached down my torso. I swatted his hand away as it made a grab at my junk, turning my neck a little to mouth 'what the fuck' at him while I continued listening to Warren.

Returning my attentions to Warren's monologue, I hunched forward in an attempt to circumvent Andy's playful assaults.

"Get off the phooooooooone," Andy whined, but I ignored him.

"Okay, good," I said to Warren, sliding off the bed and padding across the floor towards the hallway. "Uh huh,"

Andy found me sitting on the kitchen island, legs swinging idly back and forth as I hung up.

"What was that?" he asked, walking towards me.

"My brother," I replied, setting down the mobile on the counter. I hooked my legs around Andy's hips as he rested against the edge of the counter, between my knees.

"Is this whole late-night call thing a regular with you guys? I mean, I know you're twins or whatever, but that's kinda weird. No offense," he murmured, leaning in to caress my collar with his lips.

"It's not," I replied shortly.

"Good. Because that would get a little weird if you're going to be over more often,"

"Who said anything about this being a regular thing?" I snapped, starting to get irritated. Unhitching my legs from around Andy, I swung them around the edge of the island, turning away from him.

"Oh, don't be that way," Andy said not unkindly. "I was just saying... Well, what did he want, anyway? If you want to talk about it,"

"He wanted to call and say he found Tabitha," I replied matter-of-factly. "They're heading on their way back to Saaduuts,"

"Really?" Andy raised his brows in surprise. "That's good. Where was she?"

"Some weird terrorist compound in the mountains, or something like that," I waved a hand. "They had to get out of there pretty quick because the shit was hitting the fan something awful. Gonna have to deal with that later, I suppose,"

A mischievous grin crept slowly across Andy's face.

"Oh, that can be taken care of," he said.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I mean, I'll need to be a hell of a lot bigger, but still," Andy cracked his knuckles. "I don't mind doing Warren a favor,"

"Wha--oh," I blinked, Andy's intent starting to dawn on my drowsy brain. "No. No no no. Let's not do something colossally stupid,"

But Andy had already left the room and come back again, tossing a pile of my clothes at me.

"Better get going," he grinned.

*****

Home. It felt as if it had been an eternity since I'd been there. Maybe it really had. I couldn't be certain about anything anymore.

Sitting on my bed, a woolen sweater wrapped around me, I supposed I should have felt safe and secure. A large part of me did feel that. But I still couldn't shake the shadow of the past.

I pulled a blanket over my shoulders, leaning against my pillow and willing myself to be as comfortable as possible. My gaze flitted for the umpteenth time in the past hour at Ciaran's model house, sitting empty since he'd finished clearing out his stuff earlier that morning.

He'd decided that we needed 'a little bit of time to give each other space', or however he had put it. Not that I should have really been surprised about the announcement. It was my own fault. I'd pushed him away. I wanted him back, but I knew that he would come back of his own accord, if he wanted. He just needed some time alone, right? That could do us some good. I just wished I could shake the vague feeling of loneliness that had settled over me like a pall.

A knocking at the small door set at the base of my larger one jerked me to attention.

"Come in," I called, sitting bolt upright.

My face lit up in a smile as my dad walked through the door. He crossed the floor and made his way up the set of staircases and ladders that climbed to the surface of my bedside table.

"Daddy," I breathed, resting my cheek on my pillow.

"I missed you, hon," he replied, sitting down on the edge of the bedside table with his legs dangling over the side. "I'm glad you're home,"

"I missed you so much," I breathed. "I was so scared and lonely. It... it--"

My voice broke and suddenly I was sobbing, great tears rolling down my cheeks. I curled into a ball, my body shaking. It all hit at once. All the way home, I'd been mostly running on adrenaline, either unwilling or unable to think about everything that had happened to me in the prior weeks. But now it all came crashing back: all the torture, all the pain, all of the evil, despicable things I had done. It was more than I could bear, and I was reduced to a blubbering mess.

"Sshh.... Shhhh," my dad murmured soothingly. "It's all gonna be alright. You're safe now. Everything's gonna be fine,"

I wanted to believe him: that everything would work out for the better. But I couldn't convince myself that it was true. I felt broken inside, scrambled about. All I could do was lay there, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Don't go yet," I sniffled.

"I'm not going anywhere," Dad said. "I'm here,"

I glanced over at my dad, a smile breaking across my face once again. I still hurt. But I was finally home, and that was worth something.

*****

"Woo! Suck it, little guys!" Andy thundered, bringing his foot down through the snow-covered corrugated aluminum roof of a structure.

The various people in the compound were too busy fleeing in terror to pay too much heed to Andy's taunts. Ever since the gigantic jackal-god had stomped into the compound, chaos reigned free. Needless to say, the aforementioned gigantic jackal-god was busy enjoying every second of it.

Something of an unwilling passenger clutched awkwardly but securely in his fist, I enjoyed every second of it far less. My displeasure definitely peaked when Andy, in a testosterone high or something, decided to beat his chest, head thrown back in a primal roar of sorts. Much as I loved Andy's pecs, I did not fancy getting repeatedly smashed into them.

"I fucking love breaking shit," Andy enthused.

"I couldn't tell," I muttered, propping my chin up on my hand. I drummed my fingers impatiently against Andy's knuckle.

Ignoring my asides, Andy sat down in a courtyard of sorts near the center of the compound. Casually snatching a handful of fleeing operatives, he tossed them into the air over his gaping maw. He actually succeeded in catching most of them this time around--Andy had tried this stunt once or twice before to limited success.

"Fuck yeah," Andy boomed, pumping his fist.

"You're behaving like a godsdamned hundred-foot frat boy," I complained, rolling my eyes,"

"One-fifty," Andy corrected with a grin. "And just because you're, like, pathologically incapable of having real fun doesn't mean the rest of us have to go around moping and writing Sylvia Plath poems. Or whatever,"

"I don't write poems!" I snapped. "And I was having plenty of fun earlier. Just you and me. Why don't we go back to that?" I asked, making my most alluring face.

I was mostly attempting to calm down the situation, but if I ended up getting some sex out of it, I supposed I'd go ahead and take that one for the team. How I suffer.

Andy's face lit up. "Of course! You know, I'd been thinking about how cute it would be to see you rampage around," he grinned. "Let's make it a couples affair, then,"

"Nonono!" I shouted hurriedly before Andy had a chance to snap his fingers, waving my arms wildly. "No! Not what I meant. Not at all. Why don't we take it down a notch or seventeen?"

"Spoilsport," It was Andy's turn to roll his eyes.

"That's me," I said. My eyes narrowed a little. "Er, you have a... a thing," I added hesitantly, pointing to the corner of my mouth.

"Huh? Oh!" Andy said, flicking away the severed arm that had been stuck to the corner of his mouth. "Thanks,"

I nodded. Andy rocked forward on his knees and started to crawl around the compound on all fours, holding me in front of his face.

"Something going on?" Andy asked, frowning a little at my subdued expression and relative silence.

"I dunno," I shrugged heavily. "It's Reynard. I just feel... They were talking about his outlook and it doesn't look too good. The doctor said a lot of nice-sounding things, but that was the bottom line,"

"So, what does that mean for him?" Andy asked, picking up a jeep and crumpling it into a ball.

"What does it mean? It _means_he might never recover. I might have--have to take him off life support. Let him... let him rest," I replied, a hysterical edge creeping into my voice. I shouldn't have been there. Reynard was all alone, hardly alive, and there I was, gallivanting around with someone else.

"I might be able to do something about that," Andy suggested, almost off-hand, through another mouthful of fleeing people.

I laughed bitterly. "I don't think making Reynard the size of the Columbia Tower is going to do much to resolve his condition,"

"It would be fun, though," Andy grinned momentarily. The smile was quickly replaced by an expression that wavered between seriousness and casual indifference. "But seriously. I could call in a favor or two. Get him patched up in more or less one piece, at least if everything goes according to plan,"

I blinked, unable to process what Andy was suggesting. "You... you really could?"

"Oh, easy!" Andy shrugged.

My eyes narrowed. "Wait. If it's so 'easy', why didn't you suggest this ages ago? If you could help him, why didn't you? You can't just go playing god with people' lives,"

The jackal-god drove his fist through the side of the last remaining structure. "As it turns out, actually being a god does qualify me to 'play god', as you so put it," he replied slightly sourly. "Look, I'm offering your hubby a get-out-of-hospital-free card. You going to take it, or you gonna bitch about punctuality?"

"Help Rey. Please," I said without hesitation. What else would I possibly have said?

"Great," Andy grinned. "Once we get back to Saaduuts, I'll make a couple calls. See what I can arrange,"

*****

If I had to pick one person whom I could shoot point-blank in the face and feel absolutely no remorse, it would without a doubt be Aidan Miller. That fucking raccoon had haunted my entire tenure with the agency, somehow always managing to be there just when it was least convenient. He wasn't particularly talented or even that smart, yet he knew just which buttons to push with a large number of our supervisors and higher-ups. Apparently a little old-fashioned hard work and a healthy dose of intuition and common sense didn't stand for much.

So as Aidan leaned around the door leading to the office of Guillam and me, it took every ounce of self-control I could muster not to hurl my stapler at his stupid smirking face. Guillam had once described it as 'probably the most punchable face I've ever seen', and he wasn't wrong. Gods _damn,_it was just begging to have a fist sunk deep into the middle of it.

"What is it, Miller?" I snapped before the raccoon had a chance to start off with some sort of smug bullshit.

"The boss wants to see you. You and Peter," Aidan replied breezily.

Guillam, who had been ignoring Aidan up to that point, abruptly stopped typing at the mention of his first name. He had a strange aversion to folks using it, especially when they were individuals he loathed.

"We'll be right there," I replied stiffly.

"Quickly. Schwarz doesn't like being kept waiting," Aidan pressed.

"We'll get there quicker if you get the fuck out of our way," I snapped in reply.

The raccoon took the hint and disappeared back towards his own office. I pushed back from the desk, Guillam following reluctantly at my heels.

"Do you think he has an issue with the report?" he muttered.

"I don't see how he could," I shook my head. "We were thorough. Outlined the whole thing. Suggested next steps with the compound. The whole nine yards,"

"I bet that little shit doctored the document," Guillam scowled. "You and I both know he isn't above sabotage if he thinks it'll get him ahead,"

I shook my head again as we rounded the corner and neared the glass door of our section head's office, trying to be the even-headed one.

As it turned out, I was the only even-headed individual in that meeting. The section head slammed the door behind us as we walked in so hard I heard the glass rattle. He walked around the glass-walled fishbowl room, closing all of the blinds. Guillam and I exchanged nervous glances. Maybe he actually was going to just straight-up murder us right then and there.

Once he finished his task, the rat crossed behind his desk, resting his fists on the tabletop as he stared at us in silence. I could see it in his eyes: he was working himself up to an internal rolling boil. Shit.

"What in the fuck were you two thinking?" he bellowed at last, jabbing a finger at the pile of papers on the desk.

"We--it was a breach of protocol, yes," I said quickly, trying to circumvent an eruption of Mount Guillam, who had seemed to rapidly exchange his nervousness for blind rage. "But we got the intel we had to act right away. If we'd waited, who knows what would have happened? It was a risk we couldn't afford to take, and it paid off in that regard. Tabitha Crane is safe, and the Broken Arrow won't be able to use her as an... asset any longer.

"As for the car, well... that's what the body shop is for, right? Unforeseeable collateral. No skin off our teeth, though, I'm sure. In the grand scheme of things, that is,"

Guillam nodded emphatically to back me up.

"There's still the question of the compound itself, of course," I continued, barreling past any interjection the section chief may have been planning. "But that's what the proposals at the end of the report discussed. I'm assuming that Counterterrorism would be handling that, but we are able to help in any way we can. If you need any further explanation, then I'm sure we can offer something,"

Schwarz stared at us in silence. A slightly demented grin flashed across his face and he crossed over to his desk, sifting through the pile of papers. A few moments of searching later, he came up with a satellite photo printout, brandishing it at us.

"Well, I'm sure you can explain this, then," he snarled.

Guillam and I squinted at the grainy image he passed us. Our boss shot daggers at us with his eyes from across the table, arms folded over his chest. I glanced back down at the image, trying to make sense of what I was seeing.

"The fuck?" Guillam muttered softly.

'The fuck' was right. The satellite image showed the area of the compound we'd visited the prior evening, all right. But it had changed considerably. Namely, it was a hell of a lot flatter than I recalled it being when I was there. The whole thing looked to be in ruins, buildings imploded and rubble strewn about haphazardly. At first, I thought it was an old photo, maybe something of it during construction, but the timestamp in the corner confirmed that the image had been taken no more than four hours ago. How could that be possible? What on earth had happened?

"Er..." was all I could manage, blinking sheepishly at my boss. "They decided to do a little redecorating after we left?"

"Save the comedy routine for amateur night at the Laff Hole," Schwarz snapped without a hint of humor.

"Sir, I wish I could tell you otherwise, but I have no idea what happened here since we left with Tabitha. I'm sure Guillam can corroborate that," I replied evenly. "I would be more than happy to initiate an investigation of the site as soon--"

"--I've had enough of this bullshit," Schwarz snarled venomously. "Out. Get the fuck out of my office,"

Protesting loudly, I spun on my heels and started to slink out of the room, Guillam starting to follow behind me. Passing judgment before anyone had a chance to get a word in edgewise? That was just classic Schwarz.

"Not you, Guillam," Schwarz added. "You stay here,"

I glanced back at my partner, who shrugged fractionally, furtively tracing a finger across his throat while Schwarz wasn't looking. Poor fuck. I trudged back down the hall towards my office, leaving Guillam to his likely grisly fate. No doubt I would be called back to collect the charred remains in due time.

*****

Every time the phone rang, my heart leapt a little with hope. Maybe this would be the call from the hospital telling me everything was okay, that Reynard had woken up again.

It had been a week or so since Andy had promised me Reynard's well being. I hadn't any contact since that time, partly out of guilt, but mostly because I didn't want to get my hopes falsely elevated.

My ears perked up as I heard the tinny strains of the chorus from that damned Mouse Rat song coming from the living room. Rushing out of the bedroom, I snatched up my mobile from the place I'd left it on the coffee table, pressing 'accept'.

"Y-yes?"

"Congratulations! I am a representative from EasyStay Vacations here to tell you that you have--"

"Fuck!" I yelped shrilly, hurling the mobile at the couch. It bounced once, ricocheting off the backrest, and came to rest on the seat cushion.

I sank to the ground, my knees suddenly unable to hold my weight. My back leaning up against the coffee table, I shook violently, sobbing into my knees. It had all been a lie. Andy was a selfish asshole who didn't care about anything beyond where he could get his next score. Reynard would lie there like a vegetable in hospital until the insurance company decided it was too expensive to keep him clinging to some shitty semblance of 'life' and had him disconnected. And then I would be alone.

Ringgg ringgg.

Jerking my head up, I stared at the mobile, buzzing softly to itself on the seat cushion. I couldn't bring myself to answer it, leaving it to switch over to the answering machine.

"Hello, Mr. Smith-White. This is Dr. Butler with Bayview Medical Center. I--well, if you could come down at your convenience, there's something I think you would like to know. You can reach me via my direct line, or I'll be here--"

By that point, I had scrambled over to the mobile and pressed 'answer'.

"Yes, Dr. Butler? It's Roger. Is it... is something happening with Rey?"

The doctor hesitated for a moment. "Well, Roger, I think we have some good news for you. Reynard seems to have regained consciousness,"

I couldn't speak for a short while.

"Really?" I asked, tears welling in my eyes.

"This sort of thing is never as clear-cut as we would like," Dr. Butler said, his tone cautious. "We aren't yet certain of his... faculties. Unfortunately, this is likely far from over. But for the time being, all that matters is that he's conscious, stable, and appears reasonably responsive,"

I sat down on the couch, holding my head and beaming. "Thank you so much," I breathed. "Can I--can I come visit him?"

Dr. Butler chuckled softly. "Of course,"

I couldn't get to the ward quickly enough. Yet as I approached Reynard's ward, I found my pace slowing. Worries that I couldn't quite shake began to plague my mind. What if Rey didn't remember me? What if something was horribly wrong?

Swallowing my fears, I nudged open the door. Reynard lay in bed, propped up by a pillow into a reclining position. His eyes closed gently, he appeared serene.

At first, I thought he was asleep, but my husband's eyes blinked open as I sat down in the plastic bucket chair at his bedside. He moved slightly to look at me. A small, lopsided smile spread across his face.

"Rodge?" he asked softly, his voice breathy.

"Mm hmm," I replied, reaching out to stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. I leaned toward him, kissing him gently. "I'm here,"

*****

The ringing phone made the hound's blood run cold. While he had been expecting the call for some time, it didn't assuage the fear at all.

Shaking his head, he crossed the dingy grey-walled room and picked up the receiver on the fourth ring. I didn't survive the outpost just to turn tail and run at the sound of a godsdamned phone , he thought indignantly as he put the receiver to his ear.

"I see that Phase Two did not go as planned," the voice on the other end of the line said, each word spoken like an individual death sentence.

"We encountered an... obstacle," the hound replied, tapping his knuckles nervously on the surface of the table on which the phone rested. He meant to continue, rushing into an explanation, but was swiftly cut off.

"If by an 'obstacle' you mean a couple of gung-ho fools, followed by the abject destruction of the outpost by a gigantic jackal, then I would think that's putting it mildly,"

"None of that could have been anticipated!" the hound said hastily. He cursed himself silently as he noticed a pleading note creeping into his voice.

"Trained operatives count for nothing, then?"

"It's not--no--I didn't mean it that way..."

There was a dismissive snort on the other time. "Fortunately for you, the organization has other things of concern. More important matters. Bigger plans,"

The hound breathed a sigh of relief.

"Unfortunately for you," the voice continued, a hint of gleeful menace creeping in, "we don't have room in the organization for a miserable fuck-up such as yourself. Goodbye, Chief,"

"But, wha--"

A loud shot rang out. The hound was dead before his head hit the table. A black-clothed figure stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room, picking up the phone and pressing the blood-spattered receiver to his ear.

"It's taken care of," Guillam said softly, tucking his pistol back into its holster on his hip.