Michael drove. I curled up on on the passenger's seat of his truck, and tried, desperately, to center myself, to escape the mindless terror I kept falling into, to find some shred of power I had left. Turns out that when that dream-demon took a bite out of me, it did some very real damage. And now I was practically helpless. I could barely light a candle, let alone channel the forces of nature into great and powerful weapons.

Michael had called Murph. Funny thing, she'd just gotten off the phone with me. Or rather, with someone pretending to be me, and pretty damn well if Murphy was fooled. Bob said that since the Nightmare manifested as a representation of what it was made of, and it had taken a big bite out of me, it would probably be able to take my form. Wasn't that a pleasant thought. Oh, and those powers I was missing? Yeah, guess where they'd gone.

When we got to the station, Michael slung the big sports bag he carried Amorachius in his shoulder as we got out of his truck. I grabbed my staff, as much to lean on as for it's use as a weapon, and a lunch box packed with a few magical basics, and followed him as quickly as I could into the station.

"Did I come this way?" I asked the greying old sergeant at the desk.

He blinked at me. "What?"

Michael put out a hand to steady me. "Did he come in just a few minutes ago?"

"Yeah," the sergeant said, peering at his clipboard. "Went up to see Lieutenant Murphy."

"Damn," I said. "Okay, I need to see her again. Could you buzz us through?"

He did. "What's going on here, Mr. Dresden?"

"Tell you when I figure it out," I said.

We hurried up the stairs to the S.I. office, on the fourth floor. It winded me more than it should have, but I pushed aside the pain in my lungs and nearly sprinted through the doors and into the big room where most of the officers of SI had their desks.

Murphy and Stallings stood in one corner of the room, in the middle of a crude circle of salt- I could see the reddish brown spot where one of them had closed it with their blood. Murphy had a hand on her gun, and a determined look on her face. In the other corner was Rudolph, being held in a chokehold by-

Myself.

I took a moment to stare at my double. He was dressed like I had been the night we took down Kravos. He had my face. He had used my face, my likeness, to get in here and threaten people. If Michael hadn't warned Murphy...

With a growl of rage I ran towards the thing wearing my body.

I heard Michael telling Murphy to stay where she was, heard his steps following mine, but all my effort was concentrated on taking down my double. I got my staff ready to wield as a simple blunt weapon, not stopping to futility try any magic.

The Nightmare dropped Rudolph and stepped towards me. "Ventas Servitas," he whispered, and I found myself knocked of my feet, pulled towards him. My vision started to go black around the edges, and when I got my bearings again, I was trapped, held in the same way Rudolph had been. Murphy, still in the circle, had gone pale. Michael stood a few yards away, Amorachius drawn and gleaming bright.

"Let him go," he said.

I felt the thin edge of a blade against my throat.

"Drop the sword, Knight," my double said. "Else I will slay him before you take another step."

"Michael, don't," I protested. "Don't trust him, he's-"

Michael, with a haunted look in his eyes, laid Ammorachius on the floor and stepped away from it. "Let him go," he said again.

To my surprise, my double did let me go, and I crumpled to the ground in a disoriented heap. I stared at the floor in confusion, and then looked up at the heavy thump and crash which I realized, after a moment, was the sound of Michael's entire body colliding with a set of metal shelves, followed by the shelves tipping over on top of him, along with the heavy binders they held. I could see him, still conscious but obviously struggling and in pain, trapped beneath the heavy shelves and their contents. The Nightmare stalked towards him.

And was waylaid by Murphy hitting him over the head with an iron crowbar.

He snarled and turned towards her, and I realized with a sick feeling to my stomach that she had broken the circle that had been keeping her and Stallings safe. "Forzare," he growled as he gestured at Stallings, and the officer was also knocked back against a wall. And then he grabbed at Murphy.

She put up a damn good fight. Despite the fact that, having taken my form, the thing had nearly two feet of height advantage on her and more strength, she had the skill to wield his own strength against him. Murphy could take me down easily. But that thing wasn't me. He had an endurance far more than a human would have, or he'd have gone down when she'd struck him with the crowbar. I wondered why he wasn't using magic. Was he tapped out?

And then he grappled her to the floor, pinning her down, and moved his hand into her head.

She screamed, not in pain, but in terror. I tried to summon any strength at all in me, magic or the simple physical ability to stand, but my muscles and mind both seemed entirely drained. My double looked almost blissful, completely absorbed in his task.

"Oh, Godson," a voice murmured into my ear, "what have you done to yourself?"

"Lea," I whispered in horror. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why," she said with an almost musical laugh, "I've come to help you."

"Help me? You've got to be kidding."

"No, godson. I cannot face this creature for you, but I can give you some of your strength back. I can give you what you need to save these people. And all I ask, is that when you have, you fulfill the bargain you have already made, and come with me."

"You don't want me like this," I said. "Weak, and torn up. Wounded. Don't tell me you can just fix that."

"Oh, you will heal of those wounds in time," Lea said "And while you heal, such care I will take of you, such a pleasant passing of time."

Murphy kept screaming, but each time it was quieter, more muffled.

"Do you accept my bargain?" Lea asked. "You must act quickly, while the lady has mind left to save."

I stared at Murphy's wide eyes, feeling sick. "Yes," I said.

I felt Lea's lips brushing my forehead. "Then go, Godson."

And suddenly, the pain was gone, pain I hadn't even registered until I noticed it's absence. The sluggishness the vampire venom had left in it's wake was gone. I stood, with no weakness, no struggle, and simply having my normal physical strength back made me feel kind of like Superman.

But when I tried to gather my Will, it was as elusive as before. Lea hadn't restored my magical ability. Possibly hadn't been able to.

My eyes fell on Amorachius. I ran to where it lay abandoned on the ground. It thrummed with power in my hands as I advanced on my double.

He looked up just in time to throw an arm in the way as I swung towards him. The glancing blow hit with a flash of brilliant light, and he recoiled with a shrill scream. I readied for another swing as he scrambled away.

And then a cold, awful feeling came over the room, strangely familiar. It felt wrong and twisted, in just the way the barbed wire spell that had tormented Malone felt wrong and twisted. And then, the Nightmare smiled, and melted away into a sickly black fog.

The cold feeling passed. I heard Michael groan, and turned around to see him slowly crawling out from under the falled bookcase. "I'm okay," he said, wincing.

"Good," I said weakly, and turned towards Murphy. She stared up, unblinking, unmoving, lips still parted in a silent scream.

Lea stood next to her, flanked by two of her hounds. "And now, godson, it is time for you to fulfill your end of the bargain."

"Murphy's not safe yet," I protested. "I can't- I have to fix what that thing did to her. And kill it for good, before it comes back."

"You will come with me now," Lea said. "This instant." One of the hounds advanced towards me.

"No," I said, raising the sword again.

"Harry!" Michael yelled. "The sword can't be used-"

The hound leapt at me. I swung the sword wildly, and then-

I felt a jolt of pain and the sword flashed again. My hands went numb, and Amorachius fell from my grasp.

Lea grinned in triumph, but she reached not for me, but for the sword. "You are such a sweet boy," she said. "I must thank you for this, Harry. I could never have touched the sword if you had not betrayed it's purpose."

With that, she opened the barest glimmer of a doorway to the Nevernever and stepped through with her hounds, reality re-forming with barely a ripple behind her.

I stared at the spot she had been standing, unblinking.

"Harry," Michael said solemnly. His hand dropped on my shoulder.

"Oh god, Michael," I said, starting to shake. "What have I done? Michael, I-" I started to say, "I'm sorry," but that didn't even begin to cover it. How could I have been so- so stupid, so-

"Harry," Michael said. "There are people hurt."

Right. I made a quick survey. Stallings was winded and dazed, bruised but otherwise unharmed. Rudolph hadn't fared so well. He gibbered and babbled in terror, and I wondered if the Nightmare had done something to him, but he at least seemed aware of his surroundings. That just left Murphy.

She lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, unresponsive. I braced myself, looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of awareness. No soulgaze started. No response in her face. I felt for any spell like had been on Malone. Nothing. There was that, at least. I didn't think I could pull one of those out of anyone at the moment.

After a few moment's thought, I had Michael help me carry her back into the salt circle. I fixed where it had been scuffed out, and closed it with a tiny trickle of Will. I didn't know how to fix her, but at least I could keep her from suffering while I figured that out. It took several minutes for me to gather up the strength I needed, but I managed it. Murphy fell into a dreamless sleep, and I collapsed in exhaustion.

After some argument, Stallings called for help, with the story that Murphy had had some sort of seizure or fit, and then fallen unconscious. Michael's injuries and the fallen shelves were explained by him trying to restrain her, keep her from hurting herself. I'd rather have taken her somewhere with a good threshold, or to St. Mary's. There was nothing a hospital could do. But Stallings, being more experienced in reconciling the world of the supernatural to the world of bureaucracy, won out in the end.