Ethan had left Willow in an abandoned house when he went to the Council labs to rescue Rupert. The small flat with three bedrooms, peeling wallpaper, and a shabby carpet with great big holes that revealed the floor underneath wasn't ideal but it was the best he could do on short notice. The teleportation spell dropped them into the main bedroom, literally in Rupert's case. He'd been on a surgical table three or four feet off the ground. He fell and Ethan, holding his arm, wrenched it as Rupert hit the floor with a heavy thump. Ethan scrambled for a pulse. "Ripper, Ripper, oh my dear Ripper, please don't be dead." Rupert's pulse felt slow and steady beneath Ethan's trembling fingers. Rupert was breathing, but his eyes didn't open and he didn't move at all.

Blood seeped through the bandage on Rupert's right hand. The fall must have opened up a wound. The blood was quite a bright red and there seemed to be a distressingly large amount. Ethan opened his suitcase – brought for verisimilitude on the flight – and pulled out a cream colored shirt to slice up. He'd need something to wrap around Rupert's wound. He carefully unwrapped the existing bandages but stopped when he saw what lay beneath. No, they couldn't have done this, not to his Rupert. They'd flayed the skin right off his hand. For a brief moment Ethan wished he'd let the demons lose. They could have taken revenge for this atrocity. But he didn't have time for fantasies. He needed to care for Rupert. Fearing that the cloth would stick to the bleeding wounds, Ethan wrapped the hand loosely. The disadvantage of stowing up in an abandoned house hit him: no blankets and, damn, no heat. There probably wasn't even water.

They couldn't stay here, but he'd have to do something for the damaged hand before he could move Rupert. He might be able to create a spell to grow new skin but it would require power, more than he had himself and he'd definitely fritzed out Willow's magic. A glance told him the girl was still breathing. Well, at least he hadn't killed her. He couldn't imagine how long it'd take for her magic to return. Was it worth keeping her alive?

He could decide later. For now, she wasn't a threat to Rupert. That made her an asset. He Googled on his cell: how to care for flayed skin. All he turned up was treatments for first degree burns. That would have to do. He detested the thought of leaving Rupert alone but it would be better to grab supplies before the Council had men hunting them all over London.

The moment he stepped out the door, Ethan felt as if he were being watched. Nonsense really. If the Council had already found them, they would have taken the house. They wouldn't bother waiting for him to leave. It was nonsense, wasn't it? He picked up his pace, darted into the closest pharmacy, and grabbed only what he'd need to clean up Rupert's hands.

He took a meandering route back to the house, but didn't see anyone trailing after. Once he shut the door behind him, Ethan wanted to collapse against it. So far it'd been a harrowing day and it wasn't even noon yet. Instead he ran to the bedroom. Rupert hadn't moved. That couldn't be good but Ethan would worry about it later. He cleaned his hands with the disinfecting wipes, put on sterile gloves, and braced himself before unwrapping the cloth from Rupert's hand. It as just as awful as he remembered. According to directions for burns, one should apply a petroleum based ointment two or three times per day. Right, time to dab goo onto an open wound. He opened the petroleum jelly and dabbed two fingers in.

"That's not a good idea."

Ethan jumped so hard in his skin that he felt like he'd hit the ceiling. He turned to see Willow sitting against the wall with her arms wrapped around her legs. "Don't do that," he exclaimed.

Her half-grin told him it had been on purpose, revenge for, well, all he'd done to her. "You shouldn't put anything on the wound." Her voice sounded flat and dull. "If there were skin, it could be sewn together but as there's none, he'll need a skin graft. He should be taken to a hospital."

"If I take him anywhere, the Council will get their grubby little hands on him again. They'll do worse next time."

Her grin had faded leaving her face expressionless. She stared at nothing. It was all rather unnerving. "Is there a spell to grow skin?"

"I'm sure I could come up with something but it'd require more power than I have."

"You used me for my magic." There was no rancor in her voice. She merely stated it as a fact in that disturbingly flat tone. "Can you steal magic from someone else?"

Ethan didn't bother to reply. If he could. he'd have already done it.

"You can't, can you? I was too trusting. First Giles did something and then you did something. You've stolen my power. And, I think, my mind's not my own."

She was a clever thing; he had to give her that.

"If you can't graft his skin, he'll die."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Ethan hissed. "I can't take him to a hospital. No matter where I take him, the Council will find him. Above-board hospital or back-alley surgery, either way the end result will be the same."

"And you don't have enough magic."

Did she have to rub it in? His magic was nothing next to hers. He had little power, no artifacts, no … Wait a minute. Over the years, Giles had stored magic in artifacts. Ethan called up the memories he'd gathered in the enjoinment ritual. The most powerful artifact Giles had created was nearby, in Giles' safehouse in Somers Town. "There may be a way," he said, "but we'll have to move him."

"That's a bad idea."

"There's nothing I can do for him here."

Ethan waited as Willow's gaze darted over the empty room and peeling wallpaper, but she did not speak.

"Will you help me?"

"I have to, don't I." Her tone of voice made it not a question but a statement. She really had noticed the changes he'd made to her mind.

"I don't suppose you can drive?" She didn't reply. No, of course she couldn't. Should they wait for dark? Gods, it wasn't even noon yet. No, they'd leave immediately. Rupert's skin wouldn't heal itself. The sooner they did this, the better.

For a brief moment, Ethan wished he could call on Janus but the Lord of Chaos wouldn't grant him power to help an agent of Order. That Ethan loved the man wouldn't influence the double-faced god. No, in this Ethan was on his own.

He did, however, have enough magic for illusions and if he threw in a don't-notice-me spell or two, he thought they might actually have a chance of pulling this off. "Right, I'll be an Uber driver and you'll be a rich American bird who's just gone on a shopping spree. We'll hide Rupert on the floor in the back, under your feet so be careful where you put them." He gestured at the luggage and supplies. "I can make these look like bags from exclusive shops. With any luck, nobody will think to look below them." He glanced down at Rupert who was starting to twitch. That wouldn't do. He squatted down and touched Rupert's forehead, sending out enough magic to knock him out for a few hours. It'd hurt him less if he weren't conscious. "I don't suppose you know a way to get him out to the car?"

Willow glared at him as if he were an idiot. Well, he hardly expected her to like him. "We can use a two person carry, but it's sort of conspicuous."

"I have a spell for that."

"Do you have a belt?" she asked. "The carry will be easier if we loop a belt around his legs, and we should protect his hands first. We don't want to get dirt in the wounds."

Ethan had stolen a car at the airport. He'd picked one that wouldn't stand out in their low-rent neighborhood but as he looked at the clutter on the floor of the back seat, he wished he'd picked something cleaner. Nothing they could to for that now. He could only thank Janus he'd thought to bring Willow. She'd wrapped Rupert's hands carefully and had tied two sets of plastic bags around the bandages. No dirt was getting near his Rupert's wounds.

Willow sat with her feet by Rupert's feet. They'd placed Rupert's hands on his chest which made him look a bit too corpse-like for Ethan's comfort but was the best way to keep them protected. As he slid into the driver's seat, Ethan cast an illusion, giving himself a Docker cap in a checkered pattern and turning his jacket into a ratty sweater while fattening out and aging his face. He mad Willow's outfit look like something Prada might design and darkened her hair black. He then released the don't-notice-me spell and they set off. They were caught in a traffic jam not five minutes out.

It didn't take long to realize it wasn't a traffic jam so much as an all-car search. "Do something," Willow hissed. "If they hurt Giles, I'll kill you myself."

Fine by me, Ethan thought. With Rupert dead, he wouldn't want to live. He spent a nerve-wracking twenty minutes desperately trying to find a way around the search. He did not succeed. As two men approached the car, he plastered on a grin that he hoped didn't look too artificial. They were dressed as bobbies. He actually thought they might not be Council minions. That'd make his life easier. "Hey," Ethan called out to the approaching men, "I'm trying to make a living here."

"You're not getting a tip after wasting half my day," Willow interjected. Ethan was more than a tad impressed. Her spoiled rich bitch impression was better than he'd expected.

"Sorry, sir. Real maniac on the loose. Better we catch him now." The bobbie took in Willow's expression, which managed to convey both anger and boredom, as well as the names of exclusive shops on the bags. "He's not here. Let them through."

Traffic continued to be a mess but they eventually made it to Pratt Street. Ethan hated to throw around more magic while the Council was actively searching for them but it was the only way to prevent anyone from seeing as the carried Rupert inside. Abandoning Rupert, well leaving him alone with Willow, also wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't leave a stolen car parked out front.

The sun had set by the time Ethan made it back to Giles' safehouse. He ran into the bedroom.

"Took you long enough," Willow snarled.

Ethan didn't bother to reply. If he could have safely made it back sooner, he would have. Rupert looked paler than before and blood had seeped through the bandages onto the bedspread. "Remove the bandages. We're fixing this now."

The doorway between the living room and dining area had paneled moulding in a green man motif. As Ethan pressed one of the leaves, he chanted a magical release. It opened revealing a small hollow that held a draconis gem. The artifact vibrated with power.

"How will this work?" Willow asked when he stepped back into the bedroom.

"Giles and I have a mental connection. The magic won't release for me, but I can channel it."

"What's the use if you can't release it?"

Ethan placed the gen on Rupert's chest, jut above his heart. The location didn't matter or not exactly. As long as it touched Rupert, the gem would release it's magic. "Luckily he doesn't have to be awake to release the power."

"You have a spell to create skin?"

"Yes, actually. I worked it out on my nice, calm, little drive."

Ethan could feel the power of the gem unlock. His mind had enough of Giles' thoughts that the gem allowed him to control the flow of it's magic. "Crescere Cutis." The words didn't matter. He spoke them merely as a focus to help him direct his will as he performed the spell.

And it worked. As skin grew to cover Rupert's fingers, Ethan sighed out his relief. He hadn't exactly been certain it would succeed. "Well, that's that then." Ethan dropped to the floor. Willow had taken the room's only chair and he wasn't about to jostle Rupert's bed. He may have gotten Rupert out of the Council's immediate clutches, but they were trapped in London. Any routes out of the country were sure to be watched by Council goons.