It was an effective distraction, and Ellen with sunglasses and dark wig was accompanied by Dr. Lowell and the Baby fanatics as they were ushered into a little-used employee exit. They slipped past watching eyes until they reached the floor where Otis was held; there were two unfriendly guards posted. Ellen approached one trying to be slinky and sexy--the whole walking thing was still rather new for her. She had been used to for so long being half the height her eyes now were. In an instant she had stuck the fellow with a whopping dose of sedatives. The other was done the same by a brown-haired girl who nodded when both men were deposited on the floor. Then the girl shouldered the big duffle bag which carried the weapons and other goodies they'd brought. The group of five proceeded down the hall to more guards around the door to the infamous patient's room.

"Stop! Where d'you think you're going," hailed one of them. They drew their weapons, and Ellen's friends drew theirs.

"Ok, look," spoke Ellen, her tone full of honey. "We're getting in there, and taking its occupant with us. We can do this the messy way, with all of you dying, or we can do this the easy way. Your choice."

The three guards all looked at one another and two lowered their weapons. The other one was giving in and squeezed off a shot at a young college boy who'd recently joined the Society. It caught him in the shoulder, a spurt of blood splatting against the whitewashed wall. Three seconds later the obstinate guard fell, peppered with lead. The other two had dropped to the tiled floor. They were soon in the arms of Morpheus due to the filched hypodermic needles of Ellen's. Lowell made himself useful by getting the keys off one of the guard's belts and opening the door.

"We have to hurry," urges the other male compatriot. "Everyone is likely on the alert."

"I know I know," acknowledged Ellen as they entered the secured room. Two more guards went down in a hail of projectiles. Otis was chained to the wall, attached by a thick leather strap around his neck. He was wearing some tight jeans and an ill-fitting top, making him seem skinnier. They'd kept his hair as short as they could; he fought like the devil himself every time they tried to trim it and right now it was just past the bottom of his ears and straggling around his pale, pale eyes.

The psychiatrist took a step forward then hesitated. "Otis, you gonna behave yourself?"

"Well if it ain't Baby-not-Baby," he drawled. "If this is a breakout, then by all means. I'm meek as a little lamb." He kept his word and didn't touch the doctor as he undid the neck clasp. Ellen was trying to keep from looking at the bodies on the floor. It hurt her that they had to die but they were running out of time and she stepped around the fallen men when they exited the door.

"Gimme a gun," Otis says to Ellen as they ran down the hallway.

"Is that a good idea," Lowell puts in.

"Come on, Ellen--that's what yer goin by now, ain't it? Gimme a gun or take me back to my little room!"

"I ain't even got a gun," she snaps.

"Then yer stupid," came the retort.

"Give him that handgun," she tells the duffle bag girl. Reluctantly she obeys. Lowell decides if that pale maniac gets one he better have one too. Soon Ellen has a revolver, which she was unsure if she'd even be able to use it but felt safer nonetheless.

"Jeez, girl--you forgot how to dress yerself too," Otis tsks over Ellen's smart little pantsuit.

"Guess you never learned," sniffed Ellen. Otis smiled, for once since he woke up not dead from the roadblock he felt his sibling near him again. It was a feeling of contentment and security he thought he'd lost. Overwhelmed he hugged her fiercely, almost causing her to fall.

"I ain't that steady yet," she tells him, smiling.

"Holy fuck," swore Otis when they tried to exit the building. The protesters had mostly been arrested by now and the place was crawling with police.

"Do we have a plan for getting past them," queries the doctor, dark brown eyes wide. He'd already torn a strip from his lab coat to dress the college kid's gunshot wound--the boy was rather calm. Shock maybe.

"Uhhh...scream and run," Ellen suggests.

"You buncha fuckin' babies," Otis jeers, checking his weapon and putting it in the waistband of his pants. "I'm goin out first. Gimme whatever ya got in that bag, Cutie," he gives the brunette a look which brooked no disobedience. She handed him the assault rifle which he cocked with practiced ease, even with his three-fingered maimed hands. "When I step out you guys follow me and run and shoot like motherfuckers."

The psychopath stepped out the door, laying down fire, and the others rushed out shouting and firing wildly. It was sufficient to send the officers looking for cover. Ellen clutched Lowell's arm as they ran, her legs still weak and feet unsure. "Otis, come on," she called to him. She hoped he could see the direction they were heading so they could all pile in the station wagon waiting for them. Otis took off at a sprint after them during the lull in shooting.

"NO YOU DON'T YOU FUCKERS," roared a sickly familiar voice. Almost in slow motion the bushy-headed deputy trained his rifle on the fleeing Otis and began squeezing shots which bounced off cars, ricocheted off trees and embedded in the soft ground. "Otis," screamed Ellen. She had nearly reached the big car when Dobson, heedless of his own safety, began pelting her adopted brother.

A bullet struck his arm and hip, taking him several long moments to even slow down. He unslung the hot firearm from his shoulder and let loose a hail of projectiles in Dobson's direction, screaming in pain and fury.

The young officer caught several slugs in the upper chest, falling backwards like a rag doll, scarlet streams flying up in an arc. Stumbling, Otis staggers forward as some of the cops near the fallen Dobson open fire on him. He makes it behind the trees where the getaway vehicle was parked but not before he took a couple more body shots and one in his right leg. He fell against a tree, leaving a bloody trail as he slid down it to the dirt. Dr. Lowell helped the escapee to the back of the station wagon where Ellen cradled his head in her lap. "Oh God, oh God," she whimpered as he coughed up blood.

"Fucking hell, I've been hit too," griped Lowell, bandaging his hand where a bullet had passed right through it. He then tried to dress Otis's wounds but he appeared to be bleeding internally; not a good sign. "Get us to a pharmacy in the next town," he ordered the man driving.

"Heh, I got 'im. I got that bastard," said the madman contentedly. Tears slid down the young woman's face as she gripped his mangled hand. Looking up hopefully at Lowell he shook his head sadly.

"Fuck! I failed, I wasn't good enough to save us all," she sobbed.

"You did save us, Angel Baby. You saved me from being strung up in the street like a dog, and kept the hangman from his triumph over me. I've went out fightin', like a Firefly. And you, ya resourceful minx, why you'll be home-free." He coughed up more blood which she wiped from his well-shaped lips. Having no recollection of their sibling closeness she still felt for him, and without thinking she put her lips to his in a close-mouthed but tender kiss. After all, they weren't really blood relation, she thought. Weakly he put his wiry arm around her. A jolt ran through her whole body and she saw nothing but white for several seconds. She gasped for air and jerked, spasming against Otis and sending him groaning in pain.

Dr. Lowell turned to them in concern. "Ellen? Are you all right?"

"Otis! Noooo, Otis, no! You can't die. Don't leave me, Otis," she screamed.

"Baby," he murmured, his voice, like the rest of him, growing more feeble.

She remembered. She remembered everything: the fatal roadblock, the flight from her home, her brothers Rufus and Tiny and her mama, and her adored father, the clown known as Captain Spaulding. She remembered working in the hot sun planting the garden, mudfights with Otis, going shopping with RJ, drinking iced tea on the porch on hot summer days. She remembered it all, but oddly enough, remembered her life as Ellen, too. Ellen and Baby were BOTH in the forefront, getting along for the time being.

"Yeah," she answered. "And no." She lay down beside him again, the way they did when she felt insecure or they were in a strange place, but this time she comforted him. "Don't leave me all alone," she moaned. "I just found ye again."

"You ain't alone, ye got fancy-boy over there to look after ya." It wasn't long before he could no longer speak but was still conscious, looking at her with the utmost love. He'd trusted her, even when she wasn't Baby, and he knew she wouldn't leave him.

Ellen turned red-rimmed, puffy eyes to the psychiatrist when he clambered to the back with her and he could feel the pain and despair in that gaze. Lowell checked the unmoving man's pulse in his neck and wrist and couldn't find one. Lowering his darkhaired head he closed the big, beautiful pale eyes staring at nothing. "I'm so sorry, Baby," he says at last.

"I ain't Baby," she sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. "I ain't Ellen either. Don't bother with that town," she tells the driver. Taking out a business card and reading it she tells him to go to the home of a friend, and eventually allows Lowell to hold her. He felt his button up shirt grow wet from her tears. Probably snot, too, but at this point it didn't really matter.

An hour and a half later they pull into Lance Brockwell's driveway after a tearful leaving of Otis's body at the old Firefly homestead which was rubble now. It was fitting though, thought Vera-Ellen; he'd have Tiny to watch over him. And Grampa was buried there. At least he wouldn't be alone. They all filed out of the station wagon and tramp up to the front door. The house was a modest one-storey affair but quite nicely kept, with a fresh paint job and neatly trimmed lawn.

Lance opened it and his jaw dropped to the floor. Then he quickly ushered them inside, glancing to see if anyone was watching. "Holy hell," he exclaims as the bedraggled bunch wander into the living room. "What happened? I thought you were going to Mexico." The blonde burst into tears and Lowell had to fill him in.