There was nothing but a pile of ash when Ugly stopped burning. Butters made short work of freeing the thrall strapped down to the alter, while I went to Mouse's side. The sight of his chest falling up and down in steady, if ragged breaths was more joy and happiness than I had felt in weeks. In his mouth, was the broken anklet I lost a week ago in one of my first confrontations after Harry disappeared. I had filed it away with all the other innocent joys of childhood that were lost since I went on the run. Since then I hadn't given it another thought. It was a gift from Harry, and something I once and still held dear.

"Good Boy," I murmered, rustling the thick grey fur on his head.

He just looked up at me and sighed.

By the time we were moving again, morning light was streaming in through every door frame in the building. The doors themselves had blown off the hinges and were scattered in twisted heaps across the blood stains and symbolism all over the floor.

I tried not to reflect on how many of those blood stains came from the three of us. It wasn't as hard to ignore as it might have been: I had to direct my full attention towards holding up my end of the only door that hadn't been twisted beyond recognition. Mouse lay on top of the door, looking apologetic like maybe he just pooped on the floor.

Butters grunted, trying not to put down too much weight on his ravaged ankle. "Don't worry buddy. You've got two broken legs, and half a dozen cracked ribs. I'd just be lying there too."

Mouse groaned, took a deep breath, immediately regretted it, and let it out with a pitiful sounding, shaky wimper.

"Don't make me tell folks about that cat." I grunted between breaths and steps. Everything hurt. And I mean everything. I trudged on for what seemed like eternity.

"Little risky to be throwing your name around like that," Butters grunted out, taking my mind off the pain. "Didn't Harry tell me you folk can be bound or something like that?"

I actually laughed. "I was imitating my mother, the way she pronounces it when I'm in major trouble." I groaned and tried to shift the weight more towards my good leg. Or well, my better leg, anyway. "The most anyone can do with that, even if it was overheard, is annoy me to death. That, and maybe make me clean up my room." I hoped I was right.

Butters heaved out another grunt in reply.

I stumbled, nearly fell, and said, "This is it, we gotta stop here."

He helped me ease the impromptu stretcher to the ground. "We've barely gone more than a block."

Well, he eased. I mostly just did my best not to drop it too quickly. "We wait here. You go be a hero and find help."

"And just leave you in the open?"

I sighed, too exhausted to open my eyes back up. "In case you didn't notice," I slurred, "I'm sliding my skirt up my leg. Saying you'd rather stay for the show?"

"Darling, you're covered from head to toe in soot. Have been half the night." I heard him chuckle. "There are a few sexy little places where the soot washed away." Hearing that from him surprised me. "Too bad it only got washed away because it dripped off with the brain goo and gook you're still covered in. Quite the little sex kitten, you are."

I scrunched my face up and squinted one eye open to glare at him. "That really hurts, you know."

"Not to mention the little chunks of who knows what stuck all over you," He continued. I reclosed my eye. He was probably smiling. "So don't even bother trying that number."

Fair enough, I thought. And with that, I went straight into the most blissful sleep I've known. It's easier not to think about how gross you might be when you're unconscious. Especially when that gross is seeping through your skin, making you feel oh-so-good. Seriously. Freaking vampire gook.

o-O-o

I woke to the touch of a wet, soapy sponge dripping across my cheek. I was freezing. I jerked in surprise to see I was sitting naked in a tub. The thought of Butters giving me a sponge bath was simply terrifying.

"Feel free to get your panties in a wad, that's why I left them on," Murphy said above me. "Now hold still, we're almost done."

I relaxed back into the tub and tried not to shiver while she wiped away the suds and applied some gunk, probably Neosporin, over the fresh stitches in my face.

"I don't like this any more than you do," Murphy offered, finishing up. "The little man said it had to be done."

I grimaced and looked down at the array of patches and bandages that were arranged in some haphazard fashion across most of my body. I almost looked like a work of modern art. I tried not to stare too hard at the ugly purple of my swollen pinkie toe. "Guess I won't be needing my boots anytime soon, anyway," I grumped. I looked up at Murphy. "Thanks."

"For patching you up? It's the least I could do. Especially considering you were bleeding all over my car, my front door, and then my floor. I've got to throw out two rugs, thanks to you."

I tried scrunching my face up into a pout, then stopped cause it hurt. "So sorry I didn't just die on the side of the road."

Murphy grinned. "It's ok. You had a piercing torn mostly out of the left one there. I just had to finish the job for a proper disinfection." Her grin turned wicked as she glanced down at my chest.

My eyes grew wide in terror as I read the sincerity on her face.

Murphy continued. "I called your mother to let her know what happened to you. She suggested I yank out the other one, too." Her chest started heaving in silent laughter, and her mouth turned up further at one corner. "She said it would be important for the symmetry, and all."

I pulled my look of terror away from her quickly to check the damage. I saw the little round bandage at the tip of my left breast. I felt my heart thumping hard beneath it. I tore it up, then settled back, relieved to see the little metal stud poking out of each end.

I gave an angry humph. "That was cruel. Was I still bleeding out while you prepared that little gag?" I folded my arms over my chest, covering back up.

She rolled her eyes and turned to walk out the door. She paused and said over her shoulder, "Get off your ass and wash it. Left bucket's soapy, right bucket's rinsing. You get any of those bandages wet; I guarantee I'll make it unsymmetrical."

I think she meant it, too.

I wiggled a bit and peeled off my thong without sending too much of my body into convulsing agony. Then I set to work, praying no little bits of goo managed their way into the crevasses below.

Getting out of the tub was a bad idea. But I worked through the pain and stood, eyeing the heap of rags that must have been the clothes I wore earlier. I opted instead for the robe Murphy left hanging over the hook on the bathroom door. I heard a loud, booming knock from the living room, then voices. They sounded hostile.

Mouse greeted me as I opened the door. He didn't get up, but crawled and wiggled on his belly towards me, thumping his tail loudly, smacking each side of the narrow hall while he squirmed forward. I ignored the pain and met him half way, bending down to rub him with love behind the ears. "I think you ought to be laying somewhere very comfy and being very still," I suggested. His tail just thumped harder.

I leaned back against the wall, taking note of his outlook. Big toothy grin, head cocked to the side. Tail wagging. Despite the bandages around him, the splints keeping his front legs splayed out straight, not even considering the horrors we just survived and his missing master, he was clearly saying Great to see you! Comeon! Let's go play!

Silly dog. Life is harder than that.

The muffled voices from the living room were getting louder, growing in intensity.

"Alright, you win," I said eying him. "Let's go squirm our way over to spy on the grownups out front then. Who knows, maybe we can get you some more action before the day's up."

Mouse's tail thumped harder. I let him lead the way, hoping to cater to his ego.

When I leaned over mouse to peak around the corner, Murphy was still standing in the open frame of the front door, leaning heavily forward onto an old-style walking cane, her feet braced wide. She was squared against two wardens who were facing her down with equal intensity. One was eying the cane with apprehension. The other glared hard into her eyes.

"…All I know," Murphy was saying, "is the daughter of a good friend is staying here for a while." She paused, then placed one hand on her hip, pushed out her chest with confidence, and brought the cane up to rest on her shoulder like a hitter might rest his baseball bat. She looked at one, then turned her head slowly to face the other. "And God help the person who cares to think she's anything other than that." She made that statement sound like a promise, in a voice that was half whisper, half growl.

Mouse met her pitch with a low growl of his own.

The cane cast off a subtle, radiant glow.

o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o o-O-o

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has been following along. I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as me. Cheers, and happy new year!