Me (Theo, main personality of the real writer): I can't believe I just killed off my favourite character of all freaking time! (Well, he's tied with Halt.) Noooooo!

Willow (alternate personality): You do realize this is not only not real life and not cannon, but totally under your control:

Me: Okay, since when are you the logical one?

Willow: Since the miniature version Estella inside your head took a break.

Me: I was wondering why only Quinn and Eva were holding up "9"s from the judge's panel when I tripped spectacularly earlier…

Fisk: Ahem, I'm dying dramatically in a pit over here, so why don't you WRITE ALREADY?

I'd been untied since Jack explained his plan. I was hoping my brother's antics would distract Jack while I took control of the situation, but it had taken him being stabbed for Jack to lose interest in the whole scene.

"Fisk! NO!" Michael yelled, trying to stop the bleeding.

There was no saving Fisk, and there were more important things than grieving and trying to revive a dying man—there were still three people in danger (besides myself) here—for me to do in that instance.

I jumped up, head-butted Jack, and pushed a guard into the pit. Michael ignored the slightly stunned man.

"Michael, don't you dare let my brother die in vain." I snapped. "For heaven's sake, help me!"

Kathryn did something useful for once and threw herself—and the chair she was tied to—into a guard. Trigger-happy like most men-for-hire, he shot as he fell and killed one of his colleagues. He himself fell right into the pit at an awkward angle with the sickening crack of epic failure.

Some philosopher said the difference between stupid and genius is that genius had a limit. I liked that quote, especially now.

Jack stirred, and I kicked his temple. I thought for a moment I'd missed by a centimetre, but he fell unconscious again so I turned my back on him; big mistake.

Michael was wrestling with the guy I'd pushed down to him, so I tackled the next guard. Yes, literally.

A crossbow bolt went over my head and I used the guard as a human shield for the next two missiles that came my way. Thank the gods that they took a while to reload, especially when idiots like them forgot to bring extra ammo. The three who'd shot were frantically trying to remember where the bolts were.

The guy I'd pushed had left his crossbow, armed and ready. I shot the guy who was trying to get a shot at Michael, and he shot the man fighting Michael.

Cecil managed to free herself then, and pushed the guard nearest her in. Unluckily, he didn't die on impact and scrambled up to attack Michael.

Michael, who'd found the crossbow of that particular guy, shot one of the guys near me—he'd given up looking for ammo and tried to knife me—in the leg. I confiscated that knife with at "Thank you very much, kind sir" as I stepped over him.

The man Cecil had pushed died at the end of Michael's sword while he tried to pick up the weapon that had—that had killed Fisk.

The two men without ammo fled while one of the remaining three shot at Kathryn and hit her in the arm. I moved towards Kathy, but Cecil got their first and murmured something comforting as she bandaged it up with the gag. Talk about multi-purpose fabric.

"Oh, shit." The guy who'd fired said as I walked up to him and grabbed him by the collar.

The second of the three shot at Michael. The bolt zoomed towards the knight—stopped in midair—and fell to the ground. The person who'd fired died quickly and the third one ran screaming.

Cecil's potions had worked… I glanced at the psycho lady, but she hadn't seen.

Michael didn't pause in his avenging. "Where's Jack?" He asked.

The bastard was gone.

"It doesn't matter. We need to save Fisk."

"I can't."

"Is his heart still beating?"

"Barely."

"Michael, you've got magica Gifts like no one I've ever seen. Are you brave enough to use them to save your best friend?"

He looked up at me and I saw determination behind the pain. "Yes."

Before I could heave a sigh of relief, Michael was stumbling and slipping down the edge of the pit to Fisk's side. He'd never done this sort of thing before, at least from what I could tell, but he sat down and cradled Fisk's head.

"Please wake up, Fisk." Michael said. "I don't want magica if I can't have you back."

With a final, shuddering breath, Fisk's chest stopped rising and falling.

But then something happened that only Michael could see. I followed Michael's eyes down to the wound, which was slowly disappearing.

Fisk sat up. My brother, my annoying brother and the only friend I had on this planet besides maybe (and that's a BIG maybe) Michael, was alive. "You don't want your Gift? Who the hell doesn't want to be a magica human?"

Cecil was frozen, staring down at Michael.

"Cecil," Kathryn said, "This is why you shouldn't use those potions, not why you should."

"You're alive, I'm alive, Kathy and Judith are alive, even Cecil's alive—we should celebrate!" Michael said.

Rolling his eyes, Fisk pretended to toast with an imaginary glass. "Another grand adventure we've scraped through." He replied sarcastically.

END.

Willow: Can I have free rein NOW?

Me: Go ahead. But wait till morning. You can't keep the host body awake past midnight four nights straight. She'll die.

Willow: *sigh* Whatever.