Butters's nose had swollen up. There was still some blood on his face, and he already had a matched set of gorgeously colorful black eyes. He leaned over and fussed with the bandages on my stomach.

"Hey," I said quietly. "I told you to run. I was doing that heroic rearguard thing. You screwed it all up."

"Sorry," he answered, his voice serious. "But… I got outside and I couldn't run. I mean, I wanted to. I really wanted to. But after all you've done for me…" He shook his head. "I just couldn't do that."

"What did you do?"

"I ran around the outside of the museum. I tried to find help, but with all the rain and the dark there wasn't anyone around. So I ran to the car and got Mouse. I thought that maybe he could help you."

"He could," I agreed. "He did."

Mouse's tail thumped on the floor, and he kept on licking at my head. I realized, dully, that he was cleaning the dozens of tiny snakebites.

"But he couldn't have done it without you, Butters," I said. "You saved my life. Another five minutes and I'd have been history."

He blinked down at me for a moment and then said, "I did, didn't I?"

"Damned brave of you," I said.

His spine straightened a little. "You think?"

"Yeah."

"And check it out," he said, gesturing at his face, his mouth opening into a toothy smile. "I have a broken nose, don't I?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"Like I'm a boxer. Or maybe a tough-as-nails gumshoe."

"You earned it," I said. "Hurt?"

"Like hell," he said, but he was still smiling. He blinked a few times, the gears almost visibly spinning in his head, and said, "I didn't run away. And I fought him. I jumped on him."

I kept quiet and let him process it.

"My God," he said. "That was… that was so stupid."

"Actually, when you survive it gets reclassified as 'courageous.'" I reached out my right hand. Butters shook it, gripping hard.

He looked at Cassius's body, and his smile faded. "What about him?" he asked.

"He's done," I said.

"That's not what I mean."

"Oh," I said. "We'll leave the body here. No time to move it. He'll be a John Doe on the public records, and there probably won't be a heavy investigation. If we get out quick it shouldn't be an issue."

"No. I mean… I mean, my God, he's dead. We killed him."

"Don't kid yourself," I told him. "I'm the one who killed him. All you did was try to help me."

His brow furrowed and he shook his head. "That's not what I mean either. I feel sorry for him."

"Don't," I said. "He was a monster."

Butters frowned and nodded. "But he was also a man. Or was once. He was so bitter. So much hate. He had a horrible life."

"Note the past tense," I said. "Had."