((I cannot express how sorry I am for the late chapter. I realize that this is not to-par, or anywhere near close but if all goes well the next one should at least be a bit better.))

Slowly, Citrouille slipped his watch off of his broken wrist and handed it to me with a groan. "What are you planning?"

"Somethin' kinda stupid, actually." I gave a sort of half-grin and slid it onto my own wrist. The metal was cold against my skin, but the thing powered up just fine. I'd used it before, without permission o'course, so I knew the basics of how it worked.

The old spy's brow furrowed as he watched me stand. "If they catch you-"

"What? What'll happen if they catch me? They're drunk off their asses, there's not a thing they can do to me."

He stared at me for a moment and sighed, relaxin' a bit against the brick wall. "Just be careful…"

I have to admit, Kid, that caused me to hesitate. But not for long- Citrouille's life mattered more than the overall integrity of my face. It was now or never.

So off I went, bracin' myself to the wind and scramblin' off through the snow. I almost ran right into the door on the other side of the street, careful not to rattle it so not to draw attention. My fingers were gettin' numb so I had to act fast. I turned on the watch and felt the subtle static race through me, causin' what arm hair I had that wasn't frozen to stand up and then disappear altogether. I was gone, Kid. I have to give it to him, Spy's got one hell of a fun arsenal. Anyhow, I was careful to turn the doorknob real slow so it wouldn't creak.

I peeked around the corner, the blast of warm smackin' me in the face like a load of towels fresh outa the dryer. Look, quit laughin', you know what I mean.

I could see em' in there- Guppy, Lacy and one of the other guys whose name I never actually caught. They were sorta facin' the other way, speakin' quietly enough that I couldn't hear what they were saying. I'm sure it was something about how I was a dirty rat sneakin' in and tryin' to take over the town or some shit like that. I had to admit, I felt a little bad at first. But the more I thought about Citrouille out there in the snow, probably dyin'… the number of rats' asses I wanted to give dwindled down to nothin' pretty fast.

Phase one was complete- onto phase two. Slowly, I pulled the door open, careful not to let the wind whistle against it too loudly. I slipped inside when the opening was large enough- that's one good thing about being tiny, I guess- then shut it with utmost care. From there, I could see the pay phone in a little nook by the bathroom, a few feet from where I was. First, though, as soon as I was sure they couldn't see me, I brushed the snow offa my shoulders. It probably wouldn't have been very inconspicuous to see floatin' snow in the vague shape of a human, right?

After that, I was off, creepin' practically on my hands and knees. I knew they couldn't see me, but this way the floor had less opportunity to creak. Weight distribution, Kid… it's your best friend, remember that. The nook was comin' up closer and soon I slipped inside, standin' up and stuffin' myself into the corner to make sure I hadn't caught anyone's attention. My guess was Guppy and the other guy were drunk beyond belief, but Lacy… she hadn't had a drop all night. Just coffee. No, she was wide awake and alert as a sentry. But none of them shifted, thankfully. I was left to Phase Three.

The only phone in the whole diner was a pay phone and somehow that hadn't crossed my mind since I had the plan. For a minute I thought I was in trouble- I hadn't had any money comin' in here, otherwise I would have paid for the toast that morning…

But somethin' crossed my mind. I started fishing around in my pockets- nothin'. The side pocket further down my pant leg- also nothin'. But Kid, it's amazing where you'll for something when you're desperate. I slid my shoes off carefully and started to check in there, and then it hit me. My eyes widened as I quietly thanked my nosy brothers for all those years of having my mediocre spending money stolen right from under my nose. I lifted the insole of my left cleat, having forgotten that I'd put change in there long before coming to mann co. I took a second to stop and look at the condition of the shoe- lemme just say, the ones I'm wearin' right now are not them. There was a sort of dead animal smell that liked to radiate off of them purely from age and use day after day. They we gross. But if it had been any other pair I would've been sunk.

I checked the other one- a bit more change, but not as much as the left one. Point was it was just enough to make one call- one. I rehearsed the Doc's number in my head to make sure I had it right as I pulled my shoes back on. If I screwed this up, Citrouille would die. That was the truth of it. No one in here was going to help, so it had to be the Doc.

I was careful to put the money in as quietly as I could, then lifted the receiver and carefully dialed the Doc's number. Here's where I had to be careful… here's where I had to talk. I didn't know what would happen and hoped that Friedrich would be able to decipher my whispering.

And then it hit me… like a sledgehammer coated in glass. My mind turned back to Citrouille- to something he'd said. He told me both he and the Doc were out looking…

…for me.

My heart sank into my shoes. There was no way the Doc could be in his office. Not unless he'd given up, and I knew there was no chance of that happening. I could feel my pulse quickening anxiously- the phone rang once, twice, three times- it was taking forever.

I thought we were gonners, Kid… and then I heard it.

A click.

"Hello?" said a gruff voice. I gasped a little in excitement, but… then stopped. It wasn't the Doc who'd answered the phone.

No, it was much, much worse.

I could hear him breathin'- it was Sniper.

There was nothin' else I could do, Kid. This guy hated me, but I had to try somethin'.

"E-excuse me," I began politely, "Is the Doc there?"

I heard him give a growl. "Nope. Doc's gone off somewhere- left his office door wide open. Who is this?"

"It-" I paused. "It's Scout. N-no wait pleasedon'thangup-" I sputtered. "Please."

"You little mongrel- what d'you want now?"

"Please," I was having trouble just keeping my breathing under control. I didn't care if I sounded desperate, but Lacy'd hear me if I let things get out of control. "Please… Spy's hurt. We're in town, behind the diner. He's in the alley. You have to send someone-"

"Why should I help you? Sneaky little-"

"He's… my dad, Sniper. That's… that's why." I wasn't sure where that came from, but it caused the Aussie to get real damn quiet.

I sat there forever, knowing my time with the pay phone was almost up. Part of me anticipated he was about to hang up. I hung my head, biting my lip.

"…okay."

I stopped. "W-what? Really?!" It was hard to stay quiet now. "Aw man, thank you! Th- I- I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

"You're still an asshole for waking me up at the crack of dawn," he replied. "I'll go get-"

And then the phone cut off. I didn't wait around for the little message tellin' me to put more change in. I hung up real quick before it started, actually so it wouldn't make much noise.

I fiddled with Spy's watch a bit to make sure it was working properly then eased my way out of the little cranny. Can you believe it, Kid, I made it out of there without anybody seein' or hearin' me. I expected something bad to happen, but I managed to get out the door and across the street with no problems.

But when I got back, I noticed somethin' funny about Spy. He didn't seem to be breathin'.

Quickly I knelt down and began shaking him- not enough to hurt him in case he was still alive, but enough to wake him.

"Spy! SPY! CITROUILLE."

He snorted, opening his one good eye and gasping at the jostling motion. "Did you get to the phone…?" he whispered. He didn't even sound like Spy anymore.

"Yeah, yeah, I got it." I grinned a little, sittin' back down. "You alright?"

"Oui. Just… a little tired."

"I know, but you've gotta stay awake. People who fall asleep freeze to death, right?"

He nodded slightly, then fell silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. "When all of zis iz over, would you… like to go back home? Wiz me? Now zat you know…"

I felt my eyebrows furrowin'. He had a point. He really loved Ma, I could see it better at that point. We could have a good life back home- I'm sure he'd go get a decent job, so could I… but… somethin' else was on my mind.

"I can't," I said. "Friedrich needs me."

"Ze Medic?"

"Yeah, I… I've been helpin' him find a cure for his son, Klaus. The guy's gonna die if he doesn't do something. And… we're so similar, he's been able to use me as a sort of-"

"Guinea pig…" he sighed. "I know."

I shook my head and leaned against the wall. "Look, you can go home if you want. If what you've told me is true- one-hundred percent, honest-to-goodness true… If you really love my Ma… then go. But I've got another responsibility here. If I leave, Klaus is gonna die for sure."

He peered at me from under a swollen eyelid, then looked back into the blueish almost-darkness. I could guess that mornin' was coming up fast.

"Non…" said Spy after a minute. "I do love her… but I must stay here if I am to do what she's asked of me. She wants me to look after you. And zat is where I will stay, if you so choose it."

I frowned. I knew how badly he wanted to go home to her. But I couldn't leave Friedrich. Citrouille had proved that night that he could be a father, but in twenty years he'd failed to accomplish what a half-crazy German medic did in only a few months, and that was be my dad.

…..

Two or so hours passed…

I started getting' worried.

What if Sniper hadn't relayed the message?

What if he couldn't find the Doc?

What if Spy died before we got help?

My mind was spinnin'… but then…

I heard it.

It was just a low rumble at first, far off in the distance. I'd almost dozed off, and by that point I was leanin' my back up against Spy, trying to keep him and myself warm. His breathing was horrible- almost worse than the Doc's at this point- all gurgling and gross.

But, as if with the rising sun, I saw a white beast comin' closer- barreling over the snow banks. I thought he was gonna go in front of the diner- but no, Sniper had told him precisely where we were, like I'd hoped, and he wedged the van into the little space between the buildings before hopping out and rushing to us. I started to stand up to help him move Spy- I thought that's what he was about to do, but he stepped right over Citrouille and grabbed me instead, yankin' me into an embrace. He was outa breath, I could tell, and sweatin' like a madman.

"Verdammt, Boy…" he breathed before letting me go and scowling a little. His face never showed a whole lot, but I could tell I'd put him through the wringer. "I've looked everywhere. Vhat zhe hell-"

"I can explain later," I said and pointed down at Spy, who stared up at us casually. "He needs help. Bad."

The Doc didn't say anything- just stooped down and nodded to Spy. "Danke…" he said.

"Not a problem…" Spy whispered. "Ze runner just went on a little adventure is all."

"Help me lift him," said Friedrich, grabbing Spy's legs as I grabbed him under the arms. I was cold and weak, but I had enough energy left to try and lift him. He gasped at first, the very act of lifting him shifting his broken bones and disturbed innards. Then it turned to curses and the occasional yell as we carried him several feet to the back of the van, where the Doc had next to nothing. No stretcher, no straps to secure him, nothing.

"I'll ride in the back too," I said. "So he doesn't slide around."

"Danke." He said as we laid Citrouille in the back of the van. I hopped up in it too and sat down, pullin' some blankets from a compartment and bundlin' Spy up like a burrito. At least he had those.

Soon we were off. I can't really remember specific details of what happened. All I know is it was a flurry of me tryin' to keep Spy still, as every little bump made him worse, and describin' to Friedrich exactly what had happened, and probably what I'd learned in the process.

It was in a moment that I wasn't paying attention that it happened. I noticed Spy wasn't respondin' to my questions anymore. He just laid there.

"Spy…?" I asked, shakin' him. "Oh God, no, SPY. DOC, DOC," I screamed. The Doc nearly wrecked the car.

"Vhat?!"

"He ain't breathin'!"

"Did he just stop?"

"Yeah!"

"My medigun's in ze back seat- turn it on and start doing chest compressions. It should be enough to keep him alive for a moment- we're almost zhere."

I did as he told me, grabbin' the medigun and turning it on, setting it on the floor of the van and doing the best chest compressions I could on Spy. I'd never actually seen it done before, just heard about it on the radio.

It was workin', but just barely. I could feel a pulse…

…but it didn't last long.