"What's our ETA?"

"About five minutes and we'll be there. Right on schedule."

"Copy," Susan Neely said, fitting the earpiece into her right ear. While MJ and Jessica were making their exit through the rear door of the house, Cryptkeeper's Grab Team was barreling towards their location, trying to remain at an inconspicuous speed amidst the suburban milieu. Neely was paired with most of the same group she had been with when they had first tried to snatch Trask, with the exception of Jason Threadgill, who had been rotated out to recover from the injuries he had sustained when Spider-Man had dropped in on them.

Neely, only twenty-eight, was far from most of her peers as far as government work was concerned. Having worked toward a Ph.D. in which she had been researching the new role genetic engineering was playing in foreign policy regarding the Ultimates, it would have seemed as though she could have fit right in with staffers of a House subcommittee, or found a staff position over in the Executive Branch, working with S.H.I.E.L.D. liaisons. However, an undergraduate internship with the CIA had altered her career trajectory, especially after speaking to several members of the Company's Clandestine Service. Hearing about the travels of these veterans brought an immeasurable thrill to Neely, even if they couldn't always go into detail. At the time, she was partaking in more clerical work, given her intern status, but as a result of these conversations, she ended up applying for the Service while in Graduate School at Georgetown University, with her thesis quickly attracting the attention of Operation Cryptkeeper. As a result of passing the numerous background checks and training exercises, Neely had been actively employed as the coordinator for Grab Teams, working all over the globe to facilitate efficient abductions of various persons. Granted, she wasn't always the direct line of communication. If there was a situation where events were continuously shifting, such as during the first attempted abduction of Redfern, than Cryptkeeper's base of operations would typically open up their channels to all of their forces on the ground. But for most of the time, Neely was in charge. She enjoyed the adrenaline rush that came whenever she was working, operating off of instinct, and wouldn't trade it for anything else.

"Is this the house, Neel?"

Their minivan had come up to a large house, bordered by a wide sidewalk and verdant hedges. Neely was adjusting her radio's volume, but stopped to look up at the house.

"What's the number?"

"64."

"Then that's the house," Neely said, turning her attention back to the radio.

Clayton Jones sighed. He had worked with Neely many times before, and had come to view her as a little sister, which meant they were both quite close with one another, but it also meant that they could easily get on each other's nerves. Jones had just gotten off of recovering Redfern's body before getting rolled into doing surveillance on this kid whose driveway they were now pulling into. He could still function, but was feeling rather exhausted, since he never had an opportunity to take a break, unlike Neely, who did have some time off after taking care of Redfern's body earlier in the day.

Either way, they were here now, and Jones had a feeling they would be able to wrap this up once and for all. Jones and Neely both got out of the car, with their third member of the Team exiting with a gift basket, a useful cover if anyone was watching. Jones couldn't recall who their replacement for Threadgill was, but was fairly certain that he had been working with one of the other Grab Teams when they were at the library hunting down Redfern.

Jones had knocked on the door, waiting to see if anyone would answer. While he might have wanted to just get in there and get out, protocol had to be preserved, which meant acting in an unobtrusive manner. He was already aware from his radio that no one should be home, since the asset should have already left by now.

After waiting ten seconds and knocking again, Neely and Jones' partner holding the gift basket opened the door slightly, with Neely speaking into the microphone tucked behind her jacket.

"Entering the house now."

Jones grasped his weapon firmly, with his partner doing the same after placing the gift basket on the ground. The two of them withdrew their firearms. Even though they suspected they wouldn't need them, it was always better to be safe than sorry. Neely, who brought up the rear, closed the door before unholstering her own firearm, checking the safety. Unfortunately, the asset had never told them where the body was located, so they would have to comb through the whole house. As a result, Neely ended up going upstairs while Jones took the center hallway, peeking into what he guessed was the den and living room. The third member of their team ended up going to the right, which was the dining room.

It didn't take too long before Jones and his partner met up again in the kitchen, which looked worse for wear. There had definitely been a scuffle, and Jones relaxed, confident that they could call it quits for the day. He approached his partner, who seemed to have a rather confused look on his face. While that may have proved frustrating for Jones, he didn't think too much of it, especially since there was little chance their partner knew what the subject looked like. Surprised they didn't send a photo to us, Jones thought, walking past the kitchen island to take a look. Of course, given all the rumors I've been hearing about leaks—

Jones stopped. Now that he was closer, he had a better vantage point of the body.

"Is that who we're supposed to pick up?"

"Uhhhh, no…" Jones replied, already grabbing his lapel microphone.

"Sue? You might want to come down here."

Operation Cryptkeeper Headquarters, Washington D.C. – Becky Rodgers turned to face one of the technicians, who had called her name. It was Waxley again, and it seemed as though he had just gotten something rather urgent. Becky looked down at her cold cup of coffee, and dumped the rest in a trash can, heading over to his desk.

"I trust we have something?"

"Something like that."

"That tells me absolutely nothing."

"The Grab Team's at the site, but the subject is nowhere in the house. What they do have is a dead asset on the kitchen floor."

That took Rodgers a moment. "Uh, which one?"

"Not sure, but it's probably whoever we sent out on this mission," Waxley said, swiveling away to tap away at his keyboard.

"Guess I better go get Ryder," Rodgers said slowly, turning away from the desk.

As if things weren't bad enough.

That was what went through Ryder's head as soon as Rodgers entered her office, although it could have applied to the two of them. Rodgers didn't even need to say anything before she opened her mouth. Ryder could already tell it wasn't good, given her body language. After a brief exchange, the two headed right back out to the nerve center to see what Waxley had dug up.

"So it looks to me like what the Grab Team found was Lasher, aka Ramón Hernández, aka—

"We get the point," Ryder said, feeling as if a heavy weight were on her chest, "what I'd like to know is who did it."

"You think an asset's gone rogue?"

"I don't think of anything unless I have more information. Think you can get that for me?"

Waxley stared at Ryder for a moment, biting his lip due to anxiety. Quickly, he spun away from Ryder, and started communicating with the Team Leader. Ryder, having won the staring contest, turned away to massage the bridge of her nose, pulling her glasses off.

As Ryder tried to calm down, she began to consider what was going on here. We've got one asset down, and the subject's nowhere in sight. Which means that this kid's got to be getting help from someone, since there's no way she did it herself. Unless—

Ryder turned to Becky, who seemed to be thinking through the same possible explanations as Ryder.

"Is there any evidence that Jones was a mutant? Got genetically altered, was exposed to some radiation, anything like that?

Rodgers checked her notes. "Um, not according to the dossier we compiled on her, no. Just a normal high school kid in every way. Doesn't even take a karate class. Which means—

"She had help," Rodgers said, in unison with Ryder.

"So if she had help, that probably means it's someone she went to school with, unless there's a family member who has special skills we didn't know about. Any chance you can go through her family history again and also check her list of immediate friends and colleagues?"

"I should be able to," Rodgers said, "so long as you don't need an immediate update. After all, we only have—"

"Actually," Waxley said, chiming in. "I think the Grab Team found something. There weren't any notes left behind, but they did spot a cell phone, similar to the ones we give out to all of the assets."

"Similar, or the exact same one?" Rodgers asked.

"The exact same," Waxley replied. "After the subject was called in as eliminated, whoever used it left it open to the message the Grab Team sent in response. And given how the asset clearly couldn't have sent the message—"

"Whoever did may have been the one to take the asset down," Ryder said, putting it together. "That gives us a good lead. Have the Grab Team take the phone for any additional prints, and then have them pull the body out of there before doing a final sweep of the house. I want to make sure there's nothing of ours back there, do you understand?"

Waxley said nothing. He just nodded.

"Good. And once they have an ID, please pass that information to Becky directly. Understood?" Ryder then turned to Rodgers, not concerned with seeing Waxley's assent. "As for you, keep on those family and close associate trees. When we do pull off some prints and run them, I want to make sure we can attach a name to a face fairly quickly."

Rodgers nodded. "Sounds fine to me. Do you want me to put Danielle—"

"You won't have to put any of the other techs on this," Ryder replied, cutting her off. "I only want you on this." She then turned to face the rest of the nerve center techs, rather idle for the moment. "As for the rest of you, I need you to organize a few Mobile Units to watch the workplaces of both of the subject's parents! Becky will give you details on their names, their appearances, and where they work. I'll need you all to make sure they don't leave your sight, and if need be, grab them! Is that clear?"

While no one answered, the sudden uptick in chattering, both in headsets and to each other as they broke down each of the tasks amongst each other indicated agreement. As for Ryder, she headed back towards her office, giving Rodgers a pat on the shoulder.

Even if Rodgers hadn't already voiced her complaints earlier about sending a deadly asset after a teenage girl, getting asked to compile a private dossier of known associates and family members who may be capable of taking down one of their own lethal weapons would have given her pause. Not that she could mull it over, given how her workload had just tripled. Damn it, Sarah, she thought, turning towards the communications center, away from the hive of activity in the nerve center, what the hell are you hiding?

Forest Hills Gardens, Queens, New York – After pulling out from Burns street, MJ and Jessica made their way through the early rush hour traffic to try and find a nearby motel. It wasn't too easy, since MJ kept looking over at Jessica, slumped over in her seat, still pale, even while holding the towel to the wound.

Great. You got her out of the house. But now what do I do?

Find shelter. A motel will suffice, provided you—

Pay in cash, use a fake name. Yeah, I think I got that, MJ said, well aware of the basics of spy craft, given how quickly she had been forced to learn them. The real problem for me right now is taking care of her, MJ thought, stealing a glance at Jessica as the car pulled up to a stoplight.

While the improvised cleaning of the wound helped MJ assess the damage from the bullet, it was still very superficial. She wasn't able to really figure out where the bullet was, and didn't extract it, meaning that the injury could get infected. Which only adds to my list of things to worry about, MJ thought, as she drove through the intersection.

Aside from having to now look after Jessica, MJ was also replaying what she had done before leaving the Jones' house. She had managed to grab the notes and the gun, but she had regretted asking if any copies had been made. After all, if Jessica had made copies, she could have left them around the kitchen before taking off, therefore making it seem as if Jessica had left in a hurry, forgetting her notes. As a result, the pursuers would assume that they had all of the documentation, which meant they had all the proof, making it easier to discredit Jessica. Given how they had neither Jessica nor the notes meant they would work twice as hard trying to recover both.

Which is not something I need right now, MJ thought, as she pulled into the parking lot of the Par Central Motor Inn. There were some other cars in the lot, but it didn't seem to be too big or well-known, which meant they should be able to remain inconspicuous. Let's hope so, MJ thought, shifting the car into park.

Jessica felt the car the stop, but didn't open her eyes. She didn't feel the urge to, since she was in the early stages of delirium. Even if that wasn't exactly what she was going through, Jessica wouldn't have cared. The adrenaline she had felt after getting shot had since evaporated, leaving a dull ache that only got worse every time the car braked. Her arm was numb, but she didn't dare try to raise it, since she knew she'd be feeling agony. Next time I'm taking some aspirin, she thought, trying to carefully readjust her head. She was slouching against the passenger-side window in order to minimize her movement, but even then—

"Jessica?"

Jessica opened her eyes ever so slightly, just wanting to shut the world and her pain out of it. "What?"

"I'm going inside to get a room. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Fine," Jessica murmured, already closing her eyes.

MJ sighed, watching Jessica slip back into her near-catatonic state, clutching her injury as she winced while readjusting herself. While the creature seemed to suggest that taking her to the hospital was a death sentence, this option didn't seem to be much better.

While Jessica may have been getting worse, at least MJ was pleased with the motel. As she suspected, the Inn's receptionist wasn't particularly interested in specific details, and was fine with the room being paid out in cash for twenty-four hours. Add in the fact that it was cheap, and MJ was relieved that she'd at least get a small window to catch her breath and reassess her current situation. After she had tended to Jessica in more detail, of course. So after getting the key, she went back to retrieve Jessica, who, despite groaning, nevertheless got up out of the car and walked with her to the room.

"Okay Jessica. I'm going to want to look at your wound again, okay?" MJ asked, helping her up onto one of the two twin beds in the room after removing her jacket. She was glad she thought of the jacket, since she wouldn't have been able to explain the injury anyway. If Jessica was annoyed with MJ helping her, she didn't bring it up, remaining quiet for the most part. This was most likely because she was still in shock, and was more focused on trying to minimize her pain, as opposed to maintaining her autonomy.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah," Jessica said rather irritably. "Obviously."

MJ sighed. "Sorry."

Well. Guess I'm off to a great start so far. Not that I have any idea what I'm doing.

The first step will be to anesthetize Jessica.

Well that's just great. Got any idea where I can find something like that?

We can find what we need. We are capable of manufacturing a variety of toxins, analgesic, and anesthetic agents to numb a specific area of the body or to create general anesthesia.

What? Are you suggesting I…let you poison her? Because uh, no—

It would not be poison if the proper dose were administered. It would also ensure a quick and efficient removal of the foreign object in her shoulder.

The answer's still no. No way am I going to let you…drug her when I can barely control you myself.

Then what is the alternative? Retrieving medical supplies that would not be readily available to us? Or operating without localized anesthesia, causing great suffering to her?

MJ looked over at Jessica on the bed, eyes closed, her whole body shivering and shaking, forehead glistening with sweat. She already looked like she was in great pain, and wouldn't be much better if she tried to pull the bullet out without anything to keep her numb. Plus, as much as she didn't want to face facts, she knew that there was no way she'd be able to get her hands on anything strong enough to help Jessica out. At least, she wouldn't know where to start, since giving her several dozen Advil probably wouldn't be a great idea.

I don't know…

We can do this. We currently have—

Yeah. You told me this already. Except I still need some forceps to, you know, take out the bullet?

We are also capable of that. A small enough tendril will be able to root around and extract the object cleanly and efficiently. You said you wanted to stop the killings and the death. This will be a good start for us.

MJ took a deep breath for resolve. She would need it. While her "other" had been able to save her life when she was battling the assassin at Jessica's house, in addition to guiding her through this brave new world of subterfuge and covert movements, MJ still didn't fully trust it, especially since it still seemed to be the dominant personality in control. Everything that had happened to her throughout the day had been because she had either been guided or coerced into certain predicaments where she had to rely on its knowledge or its abilities. And now here she was again, having to put her trust in this creature's capabilities, although she knew the stakes were much higher. Jessica still had an opportunity to recover and lead a normal life, which made this next leap of faith all the more harrowing. MJ may have demanded that the killings stop after that last fight at the house, and it seemed as if the creature was responding in kind, willing to use its powers to heal instead of damage, but of course she had no idea if it would stay that way.

"Jessica?"

No response.

MJ swallowed, and tried again. "Jessica, are you…up?"

Jessica's eyes opened up barely. "What?"

"I'm—I'm going to try and help you get better, but I need to know if—if you trust me. Okay?"

Jessica's breathing slowly picked up, becoming more frantic. "What—what are you going to do?"

"I'm—I'm going to give you some…some…"

Painkillers.

"…Painkillers to help you out, and then I'm going to get the bullet out, okay?"

"Just…as long as it doesn't hurt…" Jessica said, her voice becoming a murmur, her breathing becoming calmer.

"It won't," MJ said. At least it better not. "Just…just keep your eyes closed and…try to relax. This won't take long."

"Okay," Jessica mumbled, closing her eyes again. While Jessica was not looking or sounding much better, MJ was relieved that she was already barely conscious. She wouldn't have wanted to explain what she was doing next, especially since she was already traumatized by what she had seen at her house, when MJ had formed one of her forearms into the creature's claw. After moving the motel's chair from the desk over to Jessica's bedside, she was about as ready as she could be.

MJ took her jacket off and hung it on the back of the chair before closing her eyes. After that, she concentrated on bringing one of her "other's" claws out, something she had never tried to do before. Given how it usually seemed to materialize when it needed to on its own, this moment where she seemed to almost summon it was a rather peculiar feeling, as if she was actually working in concert with it. It didn't take to long for that now-familiar sensation of cool sliminess to run up from her hand to her elbow, and she opened her eyes to see this freakish extension of her own arm, responding to her movements like a second skin. Bet this always feels weird.

After her claw-arm materialized, MJ tried to figure out how to administer the anesthesia, knowing that, even after everything she had gone through, there were still questions she had for manipulating it, controlling certain aspects of the symbiote. However, it turned out all she needed to do was think about how useful a syringe would be at this particular moment, causing her claw-arm to morph into, if not an exact needle, a reasonable facsimile. Hope this works, she thought, her needle-arm tentatively poised near Jessica's wound. Much like when she had first inspected the wound at her house, MJ instinctively knew what to do, namely avoiding the exact site of the injury, to prevent further aggravation. It didn't take too long before her organic needle was in and out of Jessica's arm, with a quick hissing coming from the patient.

"Sorry. Are you okay?"

"It just…hurts. What are you doing?" Jessica asked, opening up her eyes. Clearly the pain had woken her up.

Quickly, MJ lowered her symbiote arm. "I was just giving you a little something to help. I'll need to get in there to inspect the wound and try to get as much debris out of there, okay? If you start to feel something, just let me know."

"Sure," Jessica said, not easing back just yet. "But what are you using? I didn't think we had any painkillers around?"

"I…managed to find some," MJ replied, glancing down at her arm. Despite the unnatural shape her arm was in, ending in a point instead of a claw, she didn't feel contorted at all. "Just…lean back and relax, okay? I don't think you'll want to see the next part."

Jessica pondered this for a moment. She then lightly tapped her wounded arm with her right hand. She didn't wince or cringe, which MJ took as a good sign. Satisfied that whatever MJ had given her had done the trick, Jessica put her head back on the pillow.

"Sorry about that. I guess it's just—"

"Sensitive? Yeah, it'll probably be like that for a while."

Now that the anesthetic was having its proper effect, MJ would be able to inspect the injury without harming Jessica any more. After returning her claw-hand back to its normal state, MJ gingerly took the towel, damp and dark, and pulled it off of the wound. Unfortunately, MJ's quick cleaning from earlier didn't seem to have lasted, with blood still spurting out and plenty of dried blood surrounding the hole in her shoulder. MJ sighed, and went into the bathroom to grab another towel and some tissues.

Given the lack of a minifridge and wanting to get through with the improvised operation before the anesthesia wore off, MJ had to use tap water and the towels provided to clear out enough of the blood to look inside. Not that she wanted to, given how anatomy wasn't something she had a strong interest in, especially since she had already been squeamish when Peter had only pricked his finger for a drop of blood. This was significantly worse. Nevertheless, she knew that Jessica wouldn't get any better unless she helped, so after wiping away as much blood as she could, MJ lifted off the lampshade near the bed, and looked into the wound. Instantly, she felt a wave of revulsion and nausea rise up inside her.

I shouldn't have looked.

We need to. Focus. We can do this. You are doing fine.

MJ swallowed, forcing the bile back down. Ugh. Okay, let's see. I can see the muscle, and the bone is probably white.

Correct. And the foreign object will be dull grey.

I'm going to throw up.

No. We will not throw up. What we will do is extract the debris and help her heal.

MJ looked away, taking another deep breath.

"Are you okay?" Jessica said, keeping her head away.

MJ couldn't see Jessica's face, but she sounded worried. And why shouldn't you be worried? MJ thought, taking another deep breath. I'm no doctor. I can't do this, and I shouldn't be doing this. What she needs is a hospital—

Too risky.

How do you know? It worked last time, when I was with Peter.

Those were municipal authorities. It would seem as if our current pursuers have access to more resources, making it harder to guarantee Jessica's safety.

But…I can't do this. When Peter was shot, I—I didn't have to operate on him. I couldn't have. How I am going to do this when—when I'm already feeling sick?

Because if you don't do this, if we don't do this, nobody will.

MJ couldn't think of anything to say, but knew that wasn't enough to convince her.

I believe we can do this. Together.

MJ took another deep breath, trying to marshal her resolve again. No matter how squeamish she was it was comforting to know that, for the time being, she at least had one other ally by her side to help. Okay Mary. Let's try this again.

Looking closer, and with aid of Jessica's cell phone screen, MJ was able to spot the bullet. It was deep, which meant extraction would be difficult from the front. Additionally, there were numerous bone fragments, proving that the bullet had not entered cleanly, much as MJ had feared. While she would have preferred to remove all debris before helping to set the shoulder, she knew that was far beyond her resources and capabilities. For now, she'd just have to extract the bullet.

"Jessica?"

"What now? Did something go wrong?"

"No. Everything is fine. We just need you to turn over on your side. Away from me so I can get the bullet out."

Jessica took a ragged breath. "Okay."

With MJ's help, Jessica managed to wriggle into a position where she was laying on her side. Naturally, this meant MJ would need to create another incision to get to the bullet, but at least she could control it a bit better. Of course, it would be nice if I knew where to—oh. After Jessica had turned over on her side, MJ saw the ugly purple mark, right between the bottom of the clavicle and the uppermost portion of the scapula. Great, MJ thought, seeing the bruise. To her it looked as if it was already infected, not to mention the fact that she had no way of knowing if it had tunneled through the bone or not. If it hadn't, that would make extraction significantly more difficult. Guess there's only one way to find out, she thought, her right arm already transforming into the symbiotic claw.

Slowly, carefully, MJ's claw approached the bruise. While MJ had administered the anesthesia, she had no way of knowing whether or not it had traveled to her back, which put her on edge, since she didn't want to cause any more pain, especially—

Make a small incision at the base of the bruising site.

MJ did as the creature said, catching the blood that trickled out with a small hand towel. Slowly but surely, she made another incision before lifting the skin off to look underneath. Despite the blood coming out of the new cut, she could make out the distinct, cylindrical grey shape of the bullet. Got you.

Now all she had to do was extract it.

While she still couldn't be certain as to whether or not it was still lodged in one of Jessica's bones, she at least had a good starting point. Therefore, carefully, and slowly, she grasped the bullet with two of the fingers from her claw-arm, hoping it was clean. After grasping it, she gave it a gentle tug.

And the bullet stayed lodged in Jessica.

"Ow!"

"You—you felt that?"

"Yeah. A little bit, but…still…"

MJ sighed. Either the anesthesia was wearing off, or it didn't hit this particular area. And while she probably could have injected Jessica with an additional dose of whatever the creature had given her, she didn't want to push her luck and risk an overdose. Which meant there was only one option.

"Sorry Jessica. This may hurt for a little bit."

MJ tugged again, this time harder, pulling on the bullet a little longer. Clearly the bullet was still partially embedded in the bone, but MJ wasn't about to let it stay there much longer. Even though Jessica was trying to push away from MJ, she gripped her arm with her free hand, determined to give it one last pull, ignoring Jessica's increasingly loud shouts of pain.

Come on…

Jessica was screaming, swearing.

MJ felt the bullet give a little, hoping it was almost out, wondering how much longer it would take, when—

It popped out.

MJ released Jessica, who swore once more before clutching her shoulder, turning over to MJ, face ashen, teeth clenched, pierced eyebrows contorted into a mask of pained anger as she got up out of her bed.

"What the hell is—"

Jessica stopped upon seeing MJ's purple-black symbiotic claw, delicately holding a small, darkly colored cylindrical object. There was a slight pause as Jessica, now wide-eyed, looked at MJ's claw, the bullet, and her own shoulder.

"Is—is that…from…?"

MJ, equally surprised by Jessica's quick reaction, hadn't had time to cover up her "other," and was stock-still. It took her some time before finding a response.

"Uh, yes, Jessica. It is. But I wouldn't worry right n—"

MJ couldn't finish her thought, as Jessica's eyes suddenly seemed to roll up into the back of her head, and she immediately collapsed towards MJ.

"Jessica? Jessica! Nonononononononono. You're okay, you're okay," MJ said, easing her back down onto the bed, trying to clear away the dirtier towels. Jessica's eyes were closed, and her body was inert. "Jessica?! C'mon, cut it out. This—this isn't funny, okay? Jessica…."

Feel her pulse.

Quickly, MJ felt along her neck, searching for the carotid artery, all the while continuing to talk to Jessica, hoping that she was alright, that she hadn't lost too much blood, that she—

MJ's fingers connected with the artery. It was still throbbing.

Oh my God, MJ thought, collapsing back in her chair. I thought she had—

Died? Negative. It would appear as though she experienced a Postural syncope, combined with the trauma of the surgery, the actual traumatic incident, and the fatigue of having to exit without a proper recovery time. All of the above symptoms could have contributed to her losing consciousness.

Wish you told me sooner so I wouldn't have freaked out as much.

Processing all of the individual factors took some time. Determining if she had a pulse was the deciding factor.

Well good for you. Although I guess I should be thanking you, MJ thought, getting up and taking the bullet to the bathroom. If I didn't have your help…I don't think I could have done that. Thank you.

I told you we could do it.

I guess so, MJ thought, dropping the bullet down the sink as the symbiote slipped back under her skin. She looked up into the mirror. She looked incredibly haggard, hair stringy and unkempt, one hand still blood stained. Well I look terrible. Guess it's time for a shower.

After which we will need to address our own wound.

Huh? MJ thought, feeling around. Nothing felt awry, but then again, she was focused on Jessica, so it was possible she had just been tuning it out. After inspecting her arms and legs, she felt around her chest and stomach before moving to her sides, where she felt a rather damp spot on her t-shirt. Turning around so her left side would face the mirror, she found a dark stain from around a hole in her shirt. Lifting it up slightly, she saw the wound the creature was talking about: the puncture wound from one of the would-be assassin's tendrils. Wonderful. How'd I forget about you?

We provided a small dosage of Lidocaine and epinephrine to ensure proper dulling of the nerves near the wound while ensuring maximum awareness and cognitive thinking, in addition to a small organic patch to staunch any bleeding.

You…drugged me, MJ thought, her anger and disgust at this creature rematerializing.

To ensure we could operate at peak capacity. Neglecting such treatments would have made operating on Jessica significantly more difficult. However, to ensure a complete healing process, arrangements must be made for a proper external bandage.

MJ considered reprimanding the creature, but it seemed like it may have been for the best. It would have been harder to help Jessica if she was in pain from the wound she had sustained, especially since it looked like it was close to her diaphragm. But that didn't mean she would be happy about it. MJ looked out at Jessica, still passed out on the bed.

She would go out to grab some bandages for the both of them, in addition to some clean clothes and food.

But for now, MJ was going to get in the shower.

Writer's Word: So I'm still alive and kickin' baby! (Kids still say that, right? Please tell me the kids still say that). Anyways, here's the latest in the saga of MJ and her CIA opponents. We're definitely approaching endgame here, but given how long it's been since I updated, I thought it'd be better to break the original chapter down to more manageable chunks for a faster release. So for now, appreciate the small-time character interactions and bonding (both literally and figuratively!), while doing a little R&R (Reading and Reviewing) if you're up for it. Special thanks to OMAC001 and 6tailedninja for leaving some commentary on my story! Not always easy keeping up with something on this site, so I appreciate the dedication from those readers that do make it through all 25 (now 26) chapters of this beast. Anyways, this is probably a long enough writer's note. Enjoy!