[Imveros]

The hedge wizards drag Johnny out of the circle the fire, lightning, and ice rain down on the monstrosity. It's keening wails shattering what remained of the windows in the area. It's grip on this reality slipping with each attack. Then it stopped, a calmness overcame it, an impossibly large smile crossed it face, and it gave a look that was clear to read, 'Oh i will see you all again some day" before shattering like an over ripe melon. The hedge mages put Johnny on his side but could not get the bleeding to stop. One produced a cheap medkit from a hip pouch and was beginning to attach the diodes as Feathers came over to knit Johnny's wounds.

Tendrils of magic coalesce around Feathers fingers and then is channeled into Johnny's many wounds. They close, but it is not a pretty thing. Survival today, Mrs Redmond pageant tomorrow. The wounds all close, but Johnny does not stir. 2-Bit walks over. why isn't he getting up? Feathers looks over his aura with his astral sight. His aura was shorn by the corruption of the beast's magics. It is a difficult thing to counter. 2-Bit looks intently at Johnny while stroking her chin My mentor taught me an old Tibetan trick for situations such as these. Stand back. 2-Bit does a little stretch and looks as if she is about to chant when she pulls an arm back and slaps Johnny firm across the face. WAKE UP she continues to slap him hard YOU CANT DIE HERE, YOUR LITTLE ONE EATS TOO DAMN MUCH her slaps start to slow WAKE UP YOU STUPID SON OF A SLITCH, MY ARMS ARE GETTIN TIRED she goes to slap him again and Johnny's arm shoots up and grabs her wrist, his voice coming out soft and raspy stop slapping me woman, I'm up, I think anyway. You sure this isn't heaven? Johnny makes an exagerated sniffing motion. Nope still Redmond. I take it we won?

2-Bit crosses her arms and gives a satisfied sigh. Yup we won 2-Bit looks out towards the others watching You're welcome then she goes over to where Tom is standing as Johnny nods off again

[ismilealot]

       The fight ends suddenly, and mages fall to their knees, most of them begin retching again. But, in a moment the gunshots stop as the realization that the monster is actually gone hits and a ragged cheer goes up. And then, a few, more observant than the others, see the condition of the mages that won this battle, most of them charred on the ground and they rush forward to help. A few, seeing Raven still standing hoist him up on their shoulders cheering. Others, lend flasks and the occaisional biopatch to the few that would benefit from it.
        One tries to aid Merlin, and is pushed away. He's at his sisters side, her body unrecognizable. But not to him. He's bent over double by her body, and shaking so hard with sobs that it only takes the Howlers that are there a moment to realize what's happened. They give him time, forming a loose ring about him and the rest of their dead. Eventually he stands. They hold him then, for a moment, and then heads thrown back, they howl. It's a long, low mournful howl. Unlike their usual loud boisterous howling, without the yips and growls they commonly add. For a moment everyone stops, but houses are still burning, and there are still the living to attend to. One of the Howlers, Sarge, goes to Feathers and holds out a necklace. It's a simple brown cord threaded through a small bone inscribed with a paw print. "You've earned it." He says simply. And then turns and begins walking away. The rest of the Howlers join him, carrying their wounded and dead away from the scene.
       A DocWagon comes, and medics rush out and examine Yelena & Arc and immediately load them onto gurneys and rush them away. You hear one call out, "These two need a level 1 trauma center! we've got to go now, get them hooked up! It's the only chance we've got to save them until we can get them to a hosp." In a moment they're whisked away.

[Csjarrat]

Feathers stood weakly, expecting his knees to give out on him any second. Grab that mage-kid's body. We turn her in, get the blood mage bounty. Pay for the damage caused and set up a fund for the families of the victims. Don't ever let anyone forget the day when we came together as a collective, worked together and defeated true evil. What we did today should be remembered.
He gestured, pointing his fingers at the loose circle of mages, gangers, civvies and runners to emphasise his points before patting the retching mages on the shoulders and helping them to their feet.
<<To; Proffessor/Fallon/FFM>> Its done, the mage is dead and the spirit banished. Heavy casualties, but it is done.

[SgtBoomCloud]

Arc flitted in and out of consciousness in fits and spurts, her mind's perception of the broken, hazy images her eyes were feeding or only giving what could be delirious glimpses of her world ending.  The sounds of sirens. The feel of pain when someone touched her. The odd sensation if being lifted and carried.  The sound of a door, followed by the roar of an engine and more sirens.  The subtle prick of needles, a mask on the face.  Beep.  Beep.  Beep.

..Heartrates are weak, but still there.  Shouldn't be with this much trauma, but there...
...20ccs of cortozene and an arterial shunt, get it here now!...
...Jesus, how much blood does this girl have?!...
..Clear!  That was close...
...gonna have to address those eye implants, the circuitry is only gonna inflame the face more...
...throw me some of that cryogel...
...easy on the move, she's barely there as is...
...Christ, who would deserve this treatment.  Extensive scar tissue underneath burns...this will take some time...
...I don't think this is gonna heal...the nerve and tissue damage is too great...
..yes, we will need it removed.  Prep the OR for amputation...

Beep....Beep...Beep...

When Arc came to in any form of stable consciousness, the human felt extremely disoriented.  Hours, days, weeks, more...there was no telling.  A dull ache throbbed at the back of her mind throughout her body, clearly numbed through generous use of painkillers.  Groaning, she tried to stir, a lance of pain shooting through her.  "Agh!  Well...frag that..."". Her memories flashed back to the last time she felt this way, in this situation...all those years ago, when she lost her family, waking up in a street OR with eyes that weren't her own: ugly, cybernetic eyes that could never replace her greens she was born with.  A lump rose in her throat at the similarities in her situation as she tried to bring her eyes online and into focus...

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena Petrovna did not stir as she was triaged and placed on the gurney.  The poking and prodding of various Doc Wagon medics and trauma center EMTs went completely unnoticed to the naked eye but caused horrific pain to the naked psyche.  Yelena Petrovna was fighting her own battle for survival against worse odds than the damage her body had sustained, and against enemies that could not be killed with a bullet.  The dead reached out to her, to bring her across, and in this state she remembered every one of them.  Every face was an accusation and she had been judged decades ago for her crimes against these people.  Almost all were humans, guilty of nothing more than being human, but in her mind at the time there was no greater crime than being human.

These relentless dead refused to forgive her, and why should they?  What motivation did they have to forgive their murderer?  Without that forgiveness, Yelena would be tortured for eternity for her crimes.  She had learned to forgive herself, and that had helped her get to sleep more, but she needed the forgiveness of the dead before she could rest in the eternal slumber of death.  She had almost given in to the dead once before, when Tsina Molovna had killed her and dumped her into the winter river.  It had been so tempting to just let go and accept the torment of the dead.  But she refused then and she was going to refuse now.  Her choice might have been different this time, but she had met Arc, and Feathers, and Masq, and the oddly comforting troll named Johnny, and she had seen them and many others confront an evil they had not created and did not deserve.  For some reason she wanted to be part of something like that, of belonging.  Belonging somewhere, with someone, for some reason.  That motivation drives her to resist the siren call of the dead this time, to struggle to live. 

Her body reacted in pain when they cut her clothes away.  She could not see or hear the retching as the EMTs tried to find someplace, anyplace, to stick IVs.  Even some of those most inured to such sights were unable to stand the sight of the mangled and burned Keeb.  They could not hear the silent screams of the Elf as she fought the pain and the dead in order to stay alive.  Several times the decision was made to give the body mercy and let it go into death, but every time one physician with more seniority than the rest urged the others to keep at it.  This physician was in constant touch with a nameless and faceless entity that was always in the shadows, always providing a reason for the physician to continue the fight to save the Elven woman.

Skin grafts, tissue grafts, bone grafts, and an almost complete skin reconstruction began to reshape the Elf into a semblance of what she had been.  The coma she was in mercifully prevented her from feeling the most horrible effects of the surgeries, but enough pain filtered through to her unconsciousness to keep her in a near constant torture.  And the dead thrived on it.  They wanted her to feel the pain and the suffering.

After an unknown number of days or weeks or maybe even months, she finally looked at the dead waiting for her, said "Frag all of you to hell."  and woke up.

[Triskavanski]

Raven is hoisted high, but she did not cheer, did not share in the revelries of the beast being dead. And why should she? So many dead, gone, chared beyond recondition. She knew deep down the beast wasn't dead. Only  a temporary set back in a major operation.

Overall with the price the barrens had paid, the victory felt hollow at best. It would take her weeks to accumulate the knowledge of who was dead, Months to begin working again to heal the wounds and work towards her own end goal.

[ismilealot]

An attractive young woman in an austere suit steps forward and approaches Feathers and in a husky voice says. "Mage Turnstall, I'm Sam Webster. I have to say I've become something of an admirer of yours sir. You have clearly led the charge against this monster. Forming a neighborhood such as this into the point of a spear is hard enough, but keeping that spear point on task at a single target takes unusual skill. And you've impressed me by having the moral fortitude to designate part of the blood money to go to victims and damages. You are more than a hero, you're a man who can see beyond his own wants and needs and to the wants and needs of others. I was wondering if I could interest you in another project. May I call upon you in say a weeks time? I need to see to the allocation of monies for the bounty. And file a full report on this assignment before I'm free to talk. But, I believe I have a project suited to a man of your obvious character."

    Johnny is handed an extra large HeartAttack pizza. "Here chummer, you deserve every bite of that ".Even with the smell of charred flesh and ozone rampant in the air the pizza smells heavenly. It won't heal him, only time will finish that job. But the pizza will sure go a ways towards helping.
 
     Sam catches Raven alone after the cheering has stopped. "You work well and accomplish much for one of such limited resources.You have helped put down a true threat to this neighborhood.May I ask what your goals are? And what you intend to do next? " She listens intently. You know that you are being interviewed for something. What you can not guess.

[Csjarrat]

Feathers offered a burnt hand in a painful handshake, his grimace turning to a bemused smile at the tirade of flattery.
of course, it worked and he found himself handing over his commcode.
If this paid well, he might just get out of the safehouse and back out into the countryside again.

[SgtBoomCloud]

It took several minutes before Arc would try stirring again, the perpetual sound of her vitals monitor beeping the only thing breaking the odd silence of her world at the moment.  She felt her heart rate rise at the realization that her eyes were not activating the way they were supposed to, leaving her blind, doped up, and in pain.  The girl slumped back into the pillows she felt at the back of her head.  Howlers didn't give me pillows...The frag is going on...is this what being dead is like?  Huh?

She froze as she heard groaning from somewhere nearby, not realizing it was her elven friend in the next bed over slowly coming to.  "whoza...whoozere... Ihearya..Sho...show y'self.... She gritted and bared her teeth, not wanting to appear weak to her mysterious captors, instinctively trying to prop herself up with her right arm...and not moving.  "whuh... tied down...why you..."". Grimacing and groaning through the pain, she reached across to untie her binds and paused. Finding nothing there.  She must have been disoriented because she couldn't find her hand...and really doped because she can't feel it.  Wait..feeling slowly on the bed towards herself, the girl finally touched her heavily bandaged shoulder, the realization of the answer dawning on her face and finally realized as she let out a tormented, curdling shriek.

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena is yanked back into the here and now by the horrible scream from the next bed.  She has caused and lived through so much anguish and torment that she recognizes it when she hears it and tries to see what is happening, but she cannot move.  Her vision is restricted to a narrow slit cut in a mask of some kind, but she can make out that she is restrained to some sort of hospital bed.  Lines and tubes connect her to instruments and machines.  She tries to struggle, but quickly realizes from the pain that even the slightest movement brings, that she could not really expect to go anywhere even if not restrained.  The screaming goes on and on and Yelena's mind snaps from a combination of the horrific struggle she had just had with the past dead and memories flooding in from her youth, brought on by her current surroundings.

She was three when they came for her.  Four swarthy men in a large black car.  She first saw them from the narrow gap in the slats that covered the only window into her small room hidden within the rural church.  The priest had always told her that she had to stay there, had to be quiet, had to be hidden.  She trusted the priest and stayed hidden.  The swarthy men forced the priest to reveal Yelena's hiding place and they broke in and took her, despite the calls from the priest to let her be.  Yelena was thrown over the shoulder of one of the men and taken from the church.  She called for the priest and held out her small arms in supplication and prayed to a God that was not going to answer her.  The last of the men turned to the priest, drew a gun, and shot him four times.  At that moment she began hating humans and stopped believing in God.

She was taken to Relocation Camp 14.  Over the next seven years she spent lots of time in hospital wards, restrained to narrow beds and connected to instruments and machines by wires and tubes.  Horrible experiments were done on her and the other inmates of the camp.  She remembers waking up one time to see the young Dwarf boy in the next bed carved up.  The human doctors took his arms and his eyes to see if they could learn how they worked.  They did not take a lot of care with anesthesia, as that was part of the experiment.  The Dwarf child was 8 years old.  He screamed and screamed and screamed.  And then he mercifully died.  The doctors had been unimpressed and disappointed with the death and wheeled the young body out to join a growing line of bodies that might still prove useful to medical science.  She had survived because people seemed to forget her when they turned away.  She learned to use that to advantage as a tool to help her get by.  Still, she was occasionally swept up as part of a group for testing and was subjected to random tests.  It was her fortune that the doctors and scientists were interested in others.

The screaming from the 8 year old Dwarf in the next bed brought the doctors running.  Yelena watched as they toyed with the small.......female.......Dwarf.  Perhaps she had that part wrong.  She shakes her head a little, instantly regretting that idea as shards of pain shoot into her head.  They had already taken one arm and it looked like they were going to take the other.  Flashes of some memory raced through her pain ravaged mind; an Elven girl pulling her own entrails out, a fiery explosion, her best friend Arc and others fighting a monster.  All from dreams.  She could not just watch any more, Arc and the rest had taught her that she had a place and that she could not just sit and watch.  A small window opens in her mind and she wonders who the frag is this Arc anyway?

Whoever she is or was, she has marked Yelena and Yelena cannot just sit any more.  The 5 year old Yelena struggles against the restraints despite the agonizing pain shooting through her small body.  She manages to scream, "Leave the Dwarf girl alone.  Don't take her arms.  Take mine instead.  Take mine.  Let her live.  Please let her live."  The words come out in Russian, the only language the young Elf knows.

The combination of pain and mental torment causes the 64 year old Yelena Petrovna to black out while screaming in Russian to save the Dwarf's life.

[ismilealot]

         The nurse that had come quickly in when she heard the first shriek hadn't even had time to give the young human whose name board read NINP1 a bolus dose of pain medication before the second one started screaming and yelling. Not in elvish although that was her race, she'd studied elvish in school and knew enough to be able to determine that much. Her name board read NINP2. Both of them were enigma's. They both had the look and clothing of street thugs, although the tats on the elf were completely unfamiliar to her. But, this hosp didn't take you without insurance. And their POA visited everyday and had had extensive discussions with the doctors and had authorized not just care, but some extremely expensive state of the art treatments both mundane and magical. She'd heard he was dreamy to look at, but an exacting task master in regards to their care. Not that she'd met him, they were both just out of ICU that morning, and he'd insisted that they be roomed together, AND had commandeered the biggest room for them. That took some serious influence, whatever these two looked like, they were obviously very important.
          She rushed over to give the elf another medication bolus. Her third just since she was transferred, and fairly high doses too. Whoever she was she had a serious drug history. You didn't become inured to the meds that quickly and need that much without having done drugs for a few years. But just as she was starting to program in the bolus dose she heard a pleasant tenor voice saying, "Interesting. Don't give that just yet. I want to talk to her." She frowned and turned. "You're not going to get anything rational out of her right now, and she needs the medication." She sees a tall, lanky, sandy-haired man, good looking yes, but with an air of confidence and authority that made him stand out. He looked at her smiling and said, "The pain hasn't killed her yet, and all I need is a moment. I'm Sam, their POA. " and in russian says very harshly, "So you would give your arm for your friend elfling. What does UGE trash like you know of giving. If we wanted your arm we would take it. What do you have that we could possibly want?" Yelena screams, "Yes, yes, take me instead, take me instead!" At that Sam smiles and very gently says, "Then we will take you instead. Sleep now, and we will speak when you are better." Yelena visibly relaxes when she hears that and his smile deepens and touches his eyes. He looks up at the nurse and says, "That was all I needed to know. Thank you nurse." He waits until she finishes giving Yelena the bolus dose, although it's clear that she is already calmer. When she is done he asks her several detailed questions regarding their care and inspects their bandages, in particular Arc's shoulder stump and asks the nurse. "Her arm was to have been ready tomorrow. Is that still a go?" she looks at him and answers, "Yes it is. She's scheduled for 11:00."  He nods and seems content with that answer. He stays for a few minutes more and then satisfied, he leaves. Both of them sleep then, rousing for brief periods only throughout the day and next night.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

[Mercy Merchant]

Yelena fades in and out over an unknown period of time.  From somewhere she remembers the Russian doctor telling her that they would take her arm instead of the Dwarf girl's other one.  There was no explaining the calm that brought.  For the first time in the two years she had been in Camp 14 she felt that she had done something right, something better than she was.  During her periods of consciousness she could look over at the other patient and smile a bit, knowing the other girl would live a bit longer. 

The pain was still severe, worse that anything she had felt before, or ever hoped to again for that matter.  She recalls dreams of Camp 14.  Nightmares, really,  During one period of semi lucidity she looks around and marvels at the modern medical drek she is hooked up to.  *Large, semi-private room.  What appears to be top-grade medical equipment.  Nurses and doctors on call.  Yelena Petrovna not in street clinic.  Wonder where and wonder who pays?*

[SgtBoomCloud]

The dose of painkillers courses through her veins as Arc drifts into a lull, the shock fading away as she slipped back into unconsciousness, as denoted by the lack of her movement, as her eyes were hence wrapped liberally in bandages.  She was only vaguely aware of bits and pieces of the next couple days, recalling the sensation of being moved and cared for while her body healed.  She seemed to recall some other shouting, and voices.  I'm not the only one here...I ain't affording this...great..  Still, she didn't put up much of a fuss over the next day, even as she was wheeled out for another procedure or two.

[==Friday, sometime in the afternoon, Hospital Room 317, Ward 7, Seattle==]

This time, when Arc came to, the telltale signs of her eyes booting up met her consciousness, the bandages removed and eyes functional.  She waited a moment to adjust to the dull throb of a headache she felt, but instantly marveled at two things: the quality of her vision seemed sharper, and the ache of her implants that she had grown accustomed to were missing.  The former she could accredit to not using them for a while, but the latter was truly strange.  Before she regained her focus to figure out where the frag she was, though, an ARO popped up in her view, with a little note.

<<Begin Message<<
Ms. Lauren Summers, or Arc, as you prefer,

As you are no doubt aware, you are currently hospitalized in care for your injuries incurred during your recent battle with a blood mage.  You are probably very confused about your situation, and frankly I would be surprised if you weren't a little upset, but I will be up front with you.  You and your partner should have died from that blast of napalm you both took, and through modern science, magic, and nothing short of a miracle, you are not dead.  However, that does come with some price: your cybereyes were completely fried from the blast, and despite grafts and the best healing money could buy, the flesh on your right arm became necrotic and needed to be removed.

Your sacrifice in the name of protecting your home and those of others was great, and I can respect that.  That is why I had you brought here to be cared for and nursed to health at no cost to you.  Additionally, if you are reading this, then that means the new cybereyes I had acquired for you are working.  That is good.  I'll be sure to have the nurses or a visitor bring a mirror in for your approval.  Also, I took the liberty of fitting you with a cybernetic arm designed to your size and shape, with plenty of customization options open for you to personalize as you see fit.  I know this doesn't replace your own flesh, but it is the best I can do.

The hospital staff are unaware I left this note for you, and I would appreciate that it remained that way.  You have talents, miss Summers, that can be put to more use than merely fixing cars at a garage in the Barrens.  We will be in touch again.

-SW

Arc stayed silent for a long moment, rereading the message a couple more times as things fully sunk in.  The initial shock was gone; no screams came from her lips this time.  Instead, the girl merely took a deep breath, grimacing a bit as she lifted her head up off the pillow and looked down, raising her right arm.  A hand and forearm of metal greeted her vision, reflecting the light a bit as she tested the movement.  She felt the moving, it was working as she wanted it too.  She even received a hint of a haptic response when she pressed her finger and thumb together, but nothing like the real thing.  She groaned as she reached across with her left arm, brushing against the myriad tubes and IVs supplying her with nutrients and medicine, lifting up her gown collar to see the chromeware come up to right under her collar bone: a full arm.

The human girl bit her lip a bit, a myriad of emotions hitting her: the memory of the first time she was marred from cyberware and the life that followed, the confusion of who this mysterious benefactor was and why he did so much for her, the sadness and feeling of loss from all these injuries, the dull ache as her body kept healing, and the wonder as to who else made it out.  Feathers...I think he survived it without too much injury...probably is getting hailed as the hero of the whole thing.  Deserves it, that guy had to put up with a lot.  Raven...bet she's a mess.  Hope she's okay.  My debt to her is squared, that much I know.  And that troll...Lash right?  Frag, he might not have made it...hope he's okay...Yelena...huh?  She took a glance to her side, noting the bed a few meters from her and the heavily bandaged figure lying on it.  No way...  Taking a few breaths, she fought through the aching to muster up the strength to speak.  "...Yelena?  You there?"

Before there was a response to be had, a public ARO blipped onto the room wall, indicating that at least one visitor had requested to see them and was on their way.

[Imveros]

Johnny's eyes blink open. He looks around the room and tried to rise slowly as his head spins. Uggg i feel like ten pounds of drek in a five pound sack His eyes come into focus and he sees all of his equipment neatly stacked against the wall, his gun hanging in its holster from a light fixture. His heart skips for a moment but then he sees Tommy's cloths in a pile in the back corner of the room. When will that boy learn the difference between a hamper and a floor. Drek I'm becoming mom already aint I  He continues to scan the room when his gaze comes across a framed 8x10 sitting on the table next to him "To my biggest fan" scrawled in the bottom corner. Well that settles it. I'm obviously dead and this is some kind of low rent heaven. I expected more angels, maybe a trumpet or two He looks at it more closely and picks up the folded piece of paper in front of it.

"Courage is being scared to death...
and saddling up anyway."

SW

Johnny comes to his feet and looks around for something to drink. Feels like I've eaten a bucket of sand As he walks around the room to get his bearings, a familiar voice booms from the hall as the door is flung open,Drek it's really hell... Ah you awake now Mr Hero! I move you to best room in house. You stay here free for being big hero He looks away as if to cough for few months tops Johnny looks over to Mr. Zhèng Didn't quite catch that last part. Come again? Mr. Zhèng makes a fake sneezing noise Ah it nothing. You big hero now, you good for business... i mean neighborhood. Teddy offer up own room to big hero and take most humble room in new building. Mr. Zhèng looks around the room nosily before stopping at the 8x10. Strange man bring you this. Say it important to you. Johnny stretches out and immediately regrets it Well at least i know I aint dead now Look Mr Z i appreciate you coming by but i gotta check on the others. Anyone else come by here while i was out? Mr. Zhèng rubs his chin in the most stereotypical way possible Yes some old man with dog necklace come to visit you. He look you over and chant some. Not that i was listening i just happened to be walking by at the time... Johnny stifles a laugh Yeah right and I'm the queen of England You see where he went or know where i can find him? More chin stroking He down in square working with some police types Many questions asked. I tell them hero need rest. You rest now. I come back later Mr. Zhèng leaves the room as Johnny walks over to his gear and sees a new note.

"We cleaned it up for you and made
 a few improvements while we were at it
Hope you don't mind "Mr Big Hero"

2-Bit and co

Johnny put on his armored jacket, the tears had been sown shut and the armor plates seemingly hammered back into shape. He belts on the holster and slides the pistol home. He reaches for the whip and feels a slight shock as his hair stands on end. What the? It felt the same, but now had several delicate runes etched into the length of the leather These must a been those improvements they were talkin about. Gotta test it out when i can raise my hands over my head

<<To; Feathers>> Thanks for lookin in on my omea. Just woke up from some beauty rest and i gotta know what happened to the rest of the crew. Meet up soon?

Johnny walks out of the new room and out onto the street Here's to hopin next week is a little more peaceful than the last...

[Mercy Merchant]

The pain meds and other drugs provided Yelena's mind the opportunity to sort through the drek.  She had mentally and emotionally put the dead in their place for a time, but now had to deal with memories of the past trying to control the memories of the present.  Her life in the relocation camp seemed to be the prominent set of memories, even though she was only in the camp from age three to age ten.  Her mind now had to put these back in place or she would be lost to the past, a life worse than death.  Like a computer on DEFRAG, her mind shifted the memories into their proper slots, reorganizing her entre brain in the process.  When it was done, Yelena Petrovna was normal again, or as normal as she would ever be.

She had fought the dead and the demons and her own memories and was whole again, but she needed to work out what was going on.  The mental tally of the costs incurred by someone was staggering, which meant that someone would be asking for some sort of payment.  Yelena Petrovna only knew one form of payment and that meant someone, somewhere was going to die.  She was still in bandages from head to toe, probably while they let her skin grafts take hold.  There was no fragging way her own skin had survived that explosion.  She was used to one life ending and another starting, after all it had happened three time before.  She wondered what her new life would be.

Yelena had been conscious when they had brought Arc back from some surgery or other.  She was immensely glad that her new friend had survived as well, but saddened that she had lost an arm.  Still, she was even more glad that the doctor had not taken one of her own arms instead of Arc's, although she would have given it if asked.  She was sleeping at the tail edge of a drug induced rest when she heard Arc call her name.  She turned in the direction of the small human and said, "Arc.  Is Yelena.  Not die after all.  Who helping us?"