Chapter Six


Sarah: I still don't understand why she didn't cut her hair.

Emma: Who? Meg?

Sarah: Yes. Ratigan's no idiot. He would have noticed that Meg was Meg.

Emma: Not if he didn't expect her to be living amongst his band of thieves and murderers.

RAEB: And druggies.

Meg: I never said that they were druggies.

RAEB: Well, alcoholics then.
"Professor, we got the little twerp here right now!"

"Good. Let him go."

I was dumped unceremoniously out onto the ground. I had to be in Ratigan's new lair. It was cold, but was decorated in an array of fine furniture and furnishings. I tightly held on to my switchblade as Ratigan dismissed the thugs. He slowly paced around me, grinning wickedly. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

I stood up, trying to stay calm. "I don't know who you are and why was I brought here, so I going to, um, gonna leave this joint." I said shakily.

"Meg, Meg, Meg. You can't fool me, my dear. Do you really think you could've put up this masquerade around me?" My arm was throbbing with pain.

"I don't know any Meg, mister. I'm the Rattler." I started to back away toward the door, holding the blade in front of me. "I'm going back now."

He strode toward me. I backed up against the door. Locked. He leaned in toward me and pulled off the hat. My hair fell about my face. I saw a look of triumph in his eyes. He grabbed me by the collar and slammed me against the door. The pain in my arm burned with searing pain.

"WHAT WERE YOU DOING DRESSED AS A MAN?" he shouted. I could only gasp from the pain. "I SEACRHED SO LONG FOR YOU, AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME! BY PLAYING HIDE-AND-SEEK WITH ME?"

Tears flowed down my face, but it wasn't because of him. My arm felt like it was being ripped apart. Ratigan noticed for the first time the bloody handkerchief. "What happened?" he asked, temporarily forgetting his anger.

"Chuck C. He stabbed me," I gasped out. "Fight."

"I saw the fight," he interrupted.

"You left."

"I came back. I had forgotten something," he answered distractedly. "I thought he might have stabbed you. Did he use his switchblade?"

"No... dropped it... razorblade... very small." The room was starting to spin.

"He used the razorblade?" Ratigan asked urgently. I nodded. I could barely feel myself. All I could feel was the numbing pain. I heard him in the distance saying, "Holden, get in here, quick!"

"Meg..."
Josh saw the thugs who took Meg. He was just arriving there when he saw it happen. He tried to follow them, but lost them almost immediately. He then ran to Basil and the police for aide. They began their search, but the villains had left no clue as to their destination.

They later found out from Iggie that she had been stabbed, and might already be dead. They questioned as many mice as they could, but came up with nothing to follow.
Ratigan paced the room, glancing every now and then at Meg lying on his bed. She had been having hallucinations before. She seemed calm for the moment.

Chuck C. was notorious for using a poisoned razorblade if a fight got tough. Unfortunately, the poison had spread all over her body. She would be lucky to see the sun rise. Ratigan had done his best with an antidote and sucking the poison out, but it had almost been too late by then.

Ratigan had heard of the Rattler, a tough mouse from the gangs of New York City, but the diabolical professor had also heard of the mouse's unwillingness to join up with him. Ratigan had left The Red Dragon and waited in the alley behind the bar, in hopes of "persuading" the unusually small mouse into his employment, when the noise of fighting inside brought the professor inside again. There, he had seen the "Rattler's" boyish cap knocked askew, and the "thug's" hair fall partially out.

Meg groaned. Ratigan ran to the bedside. "Meg, can you hear me?" he asked.

"Josh? Is that you?" she asked weakly.

"No Meg, it's James."

"James? James who?" She shivered. "Cold. It's cold in here."

Ratigan placed another blanket on her. "Mama?" she asked.

"No." Ratigan sighed. Didn't she remember him?

"Papa?"

"No Meg. James. James Ratigan."

"Don't hurt Anne, please don't hurt her!" Meg tried to get out of the bed, but was too weak. Ratigan gently pushed her back down.

"No one's going to hurt her," he spoke soothingly. "Meg, I'm here. I'm here to help you."

"Help... me?" She tried to laugh, but started to choke. She stopped and gazed at him. "Nuhuh, I needa helpyou." she slurred. "You sold your soul to Lucifer."

"What?"

"Evil, evil. Poor James. You're a gonna go to Hell James if you don't change." She was quite for a while. Ratigan had thought she had fallen asleep, until she said, "James? You still there?"

"Yes, darling."

"James, tell me the truth. Am I going to die?"

"Why." he stopped. "No, Meg. You'll be fine."

"Liar," she breathed. "I'm going to die, you know it."

"Don't say that," Ratigan pleaded. "You're going to live. Don't be afraid about-"

"I don't care if I die. I'll go to heaven." She shivered again. "I go to heaven, you to Hell, James. Don't go to Hell. I put in a good word for you."

"Meg, what are you talking about? You're not making any sense."

"I put in a good word for you, James. Jesus will listen. He loves you."

She weakly smiled at him and sank back down into the pillows. He gazed at her silent form for a while. She must be having more hallucinations, he thought. Meg was bolder half-dead than completely healthy. Suddenly beads of sweat appeared on her brow. "Cold. Very cold," she whimpered. "So cold."

He built up the fire and tried to cover her with more blankets, but she still shivered uncontrollably. It was June. The summer air made even the underworld of London warm, and the room was boiling as it was. If only she were closer to the fire, Ratigan thought. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. He wrapped her up with blankets and carried her to an armchair next to the fire. He sat down, holding the girl close to him. She stopped shivering, but was now muttering incoherently to herself.

Ratigan was afraid she would go mad. He tried to think of ways to make her sleep. He remembered a song his own mother had sang to him many times, and decided to try that. His deep baritone voice shook as he gazed down at the tiny figure in his arms.

"Once upon a time of the past

In a summer's dream

An angel came from the sky

Were you as you seemed?

Gentle flower, my heart

You stole away from me

I was left all alone

Did you love me?

The love of my life, my little rose,

I'll hold you through the night

Safely here, my angelic dove

My..."

He stopped. She was fast asleep.

"My only hope, my life."


Meg: I wrote that song too. It's mine!

JWJ: You know, the Meg in the story is a lot like you, Meg. She's a loud mouth, temperamental, annoying-

Sarah: Who said that Meg's annoying?

JWJ: (ignoring Sarah) - and when she was hallucinating and saying weird things, she sounded exactly like you, except you're never hallucinating when you're saying weird things!

Meg: Shut up.

Emma: You know, supposedly the whole "sucking the poison out of her system" thing doesn't work in practice. The poison should have spread through all of her system by then, and she would be dead by now.

Meg: Who says that she's still alive?

Lizz: You didn't kill her?

RAEB: Well, she killed GC and Ratigan... well, almost. You like to kill people.

Meg: Just read!