Geez, I am SO sorry for this hiatus! Things have been really hectic lately, not that that's an excuse! Please forgive me!

Chapter 26

Paralyzed

This feels like another dream

Everyone grabbed ahold of me

Pulled from every side of me

I give up, I give up

There's nothing left of me

-"Paralyzed" by Rock Kills Kid

Though they normally ditched out pretty early after they'd woken up, the twins hung around the house for the next few days. Though they would never say it out loud, I knew they were really worried.

Joan was worried too, and she didn't even know all the details. Connor wouldn't let her leave the apartment at all; she'd had to take a leave of absence from her waitressing job. I wasn't allowed to leave, either. It wasn't long before we all started going stir-crazy. It was too cold to even open a window for a quick breath of fresh air.

And then, late Friday afternoon, Smecker called to say they had a lead on where Ana was hiding out. He wasn't sure if the cops should take care of her or if the Saints should, but Murphy quickly and grimly assured the FBI agent that this was personal. He and Connor planned to take care of it.

"Are you sure they should be going?" Joan asked me in a low, hoarse voice. The two of us were sitting on the couch, listening to the boys rustling about in their bedroom as they got ready for their hit.

I ran one finger absently over the burns on my leg. "No, they shouldn't be going at all. But they will."

"Can't we stop them?" she demanded. "This seems like the sort of thing the police should be taking care of!"

I let out a harsh laugh. "If you can get that through Murphy and Connor's thick heads, be my guest. I've been trying to talk them out of doing these things for months now."

She fell silent, perturbed.

The boys strode down the hallway into the living area, heavy peacoats on that I knew hid their multitude of automatic weapons. "Now, as soon as we leave, you lock this door and don't open it for anybody. Understand?" Connor demanded fiercely.

"We know how this works," I answered shortly. Well, at least I did. "We'll be fine. You just make sure you don't get killed."

"We'll be sure to do that," Murphy said grimly, handing me one of the guns from their stash. "Make sure you don't use this unless it's absolutely necessary."

I accepted the gun, feeling the weight in my hands. I was reminded of the night at the hotel when I'd killed all those thugs. I quickly let the gun rest on my knee, feeling uncomfortable with it.

"Be good," Connor warned, giving Joan a long, hard look. "The both of you. And make sure you stay out of trouble."

"We will-" I started, but Murphy cut me off with a fierce kiss.

"We'll be back in a few hours," he promised. "With that fucking bitch's head on a silver platter." And then, tucking their rosaries down the front of their shirts, they were gone. Joan and I were alone in the apartment.

She looked at the gun, sitting on the coffee table, with a certain amount of apprehension. "Do you know how to shoot that thing?" she demanded.

"Mostly." I shrugged. "Want to watch a movie? The VCR is terrible but at least it's something to do."

She seemed completely at a loss. "How can you possibly watch a movie when they're out there doing who knows what?"

"It's sort of the only way to get through it. You've got to keep yourself occupied," I told her grimly.

The boys didn't have many movies that appealed to me, but I found 'Robin Hood: Men in Tights' buried behind the TV. Clearly one of Connor's guilty pleasures. I popped it into the VCR and settled back on the sofa with Joan to watch. It was definitely a nice change to have someone waiting with me.

We were both laughing, Joan nearly in tears (she'd never seen the film before), when the glass in the window shattered and something whizzed across the room to lodge in the wall above the stove. Joan screamed and we both threw ourselves to the ground. I let out a grunt as the burn on my left leg hit the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" Joan demanded frantically, lifting her head a fraction of an inch.

"Keep your head down!" I snarled, forcing her back to the floor as another volley of gunfire came through the window.

And then there was crunching glass and she was in the apartment. Ana. Dressed head-to-toe in black, a semiautomatic in her hand. The look in her eyes was terrifying; there was no longer anything sane about her.

"Little pet," she crooned, pointing the gun straight at me and cocking the trigger. "I'm so happy we have a chance to catch up."

I glanced at the gun Murphy had left me. It was still sitting on the coffee table, well within reach. Quick as a flash I grabbed it. She fired at me but missed, the bullet going into the refrigerator with a hissing noise. Then I was on my knees, my own weapon leveled straight at her heartless chest.

"Get up, Joan," I said sternly. She'd become nothing more than a quivering mess on the floor beside me. She did so, trembling, and helped me to my own feet. I could hardly stand on them. I had still been using my one crutch for the most part.

"How's this going to go down, little pet?" Ana asked archly, the corners of her mouth turning up. "If you pull the trigger, I'll shoot."

"Doesn't that work both ways?" I demanded in her native Romanian. "If you pull the trigger, I'll shoot. We both die either way."

Her eyes lit up suddenly, her smile widening. "Ah, but don't you see, little pet? I have nothing left to live for. My cousin, my brother, my uncle. You've killed them all. Our enterprise is nothing more than dust after this. Death, for the both of us, is the only goal we can achieve here."

I gritted my teeth. How could she accept death so calmly? It was nearly impossible to believe I'd felt the same way just nine months ago. I needed a plan, and fast. "Unfortunately for you, I didn't kill any of your family," I told her, cocking the trigger of my gun ever-so-quietly. There was madness in her eyes; I could only hope that she wasn't clear-headed. "It was the Saints. If you kill me, then I'll kill you and you'll never be able to kill them."

The smile widened even more; she was entirely insane. "I know what you are to them. Their little whore, their precious little princess. Your death would be enough."

"Then you're in luck." Oh god, I was really going to do this. "Because I'm ready too-!" I pulled the trigger before I finished my sentence, catching her off guard. I knew the bullet hit her somewhere, because she cried out and staggered back a few steps, but I didn't stop to see the extent of the damage. "Run!" I screamed to Joan.

She didn't have to be told twice. She had the door unlocked before I could hardly move, and then the two of us were running out the door. We didn't chance the elevator, choosing the stairs instead. And then we were out the door of the tenement, into the freezing November evening.

Winter had descended on Boston quickly this year, and there was already about a foot of snow on the ground when we stumbled outside. We hadn't run more than a few yards when I had to stop. The raw skin on my legs was burning and my feet were on fire. I knew I wasn't going to make it.

"What are you doing?" Joan panted, clutching at my arm, trying to drag me along the street. It was deserted at that hour, nearly midnight.

I shook my head. "I can't do it, Joan. I'm barefoot and in shorts, for god's sake. There's no way I'm going to get away. I can barely walk without my crutch, much less run."

"You can't just give up!" Joan insisted. I could hear the panic in her voice. She was not ready for this type of confrontation. "I'll carry you! I'll carry you and we'll both get out of here!"

"No way," I said sternly. "I weigh nearly as much as you. She'll catch up with us in no time if we do that. No, I'm going to hide here. Hopefully she'll just walk right by me. And even if she doesn't, I've still got this gun." I didn't mention the fact that Ana still had a gun too. "You need to go to the police station. Get Smecker. Only Smecker. Get him alone and tell him exactly what happened. He'll know what to do."

"I can't leave you!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, freezing in the night air. "She's going to kill you, Mimi!"

"Just go!" There wasn't time to argue this. At least one of us had to make it out of this alive. I gave her a little push and she went off running through the snow, barefoot herself.

I glanced around. I'd wasted precious time arguing with her. It was a miracle Ana wasn't there already. Hobbling, I threw myself behind a dumpster, pressing myself between the freezing metal and the brick wall of the next building over. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure Ana would hear it if she passed by my hiding place. I quickly checked the gun's clip. Only three more rounds. I'd better make them count.

The door to the tenement opened and I could hear Ana's heels on the cement steps even through the thick layer of snow that was falling all around us. "Little pet," she crooned, her voice sounding eerily loud in the quiet of the snow. "That wasn't very nice, now was it? Come out, come out, wherever you are!" The sing-song tone in her voice sent a shiver up my spine.

I had two choices, I thought to myself. I could either wait here and hope she didn't notice me, or I could fire and hope I had the element of surprise. If she walked past my hiding spot and happened to look back, she'd see me right away. I was practically out in the open from that angle. I decided I had no choice. I'd have to try and catch her off guard.

Steeling my will, I poked my head over the top of the dumpster and fired off the three rounds left in my gun in the direction her voice had been coming from, praying to Connor and Murphy's god that I'd hit something. My heart sank right down into my stomach. The bullets were in the brick wall of the building, not Ana.

And then she was behind me. There was a sharp pain against the back of my skull and I blacked out.

Haha, I guess Mimi isn't as good of a shot as she thought. CLIFFY! I promise it won't be so long between updates next time! Please review!