That was one hell of a bar fight he had gotten himself into, Danger Mouse reflected, as he opened his eye gingerly, his temples throbbing. He rubbed them gently, trying to regain his bearings.

Crawling to his feet using an upturned table for support, DM was relieved to note that, miraculously, there were no broken or sprained bones- but he was still battered, bruised and his nose was covered in dried, crusted blood. He grimaced at that, as well as the fact that he had been defeated in a fight for once, but he knew he and Penfold needed to move, quickly, in case someone came back and found them still alive.

…wait, Penfold! Where was he?

DM nearly facepalmed himself for forgetting about his little friend. He looked around him, but the hamster was nowhere to be seen, and his frustration and annoyance bubbled to panic.

'Stay calm, Mouse,' he thought to himself, 'he won't have gone far.'

"… Penfold," he called softly, moving around the bar, taking great care to dance around the shards of broken bottles and glasses, to step over puddles of red, white, brown and darted round overturned chairs and upended tables, calling his friend's name all the while.

"Penfold…. Penfold, please, answer me, little friend!" he said, his tone growing more urgent with each passing second. He was hesitant to outright shout, for fear of someone overhearing him. He wasn't in the best shape to withstand another fight, and who knew what state Penfold was in?

His instincts screamed he needed to leave, there was something not right here; but he wasn't leaving without Penfold, not in a million years. Or 150 million years, for that matter, he reflected, with a nostalgic smile.

His smile widened to one of relief as he heard a familiar low groan from behind an upturned table that been split in two.

"Penfold!" He whispered joyfully, peeking over the table.

Sure enough, the little hamster was lying there- his suit torn from the brawl and stained from various alcohols; his little face covered in bruises; and his specs were lying, broken beyond repair. The lenses had been shattered, and the frame snapped.

But he was still breathing. And he was coming to, as well.

Relieved Penfold was alive, DM quickly checked him over for spinal or head injuries. Fortunately, no spinal injuries were detected, though he thought his heart had been ripped from his chest when he saw the giant, bleeding gash on Penfold's head…. As well as the glass shard embedded in his friend's forehead.

He knew it needed urgent medical attention, but they had no time to wait for an ambulance, nor was he able to call one without attracting unwanted attention.

"C... chief…" Penfold whimpered weakly, a paw attempting to snake itself to his head, but failing miserably. "It… it hu… hurts. So much…"

"Shh, I'll treat it. Just lie still." DM whispered tenderly, patting Penfold's shoulder with care, before examining the wound and the embedded shard.

The White Wonder knew he could remove the glass with tweezers and dress the injury, however, it was deep enough for stitches, so a trip to Accident and Emergency would be needed on top of what meagre care DM could provide at this moment.

"How… how bad is it, sir?" Asked Penfold quietly, seeing his boss's grim expression.

"Quite bad, I'm afraid," DM replied briskly, returning to his friend's side. "There's um… you have a gash on your head."

"Oh 'eck."

You've a fragment of glass in your forehead, and it's bleeding, rapidly." DM finished his assessment dryly, trying to keep fear out of his voice.

"Can, can you fix it, Chief?" Asked Penfold, hopefully. "You're good at fixing things…"

"You need sutures, or stitches, Penfold. That I can't provide." DM explained quietly, looking over his shoulder as a faint crash from the next room caught his ears. However, when no one approached them, he spoke again, "But I can disinfect and dress your wound for a trip to hospital. Which is where we're heading next, by the way."

"But, DM, what about the villains!" Penfold squeaked, realising that they hadn't caught the perpetrators of this case.

"Shush, Penfold!" DM hissed warningly, hearing something else in the distance; it sounded more like footsteps, heading in the direction of the bar.

Fortunately for our two heroes, however, he realized they were getting fainter. They were going upstairs- for what reason was not his concern right now. He needed to tend to Penfold's head wound as best as he could and get them both out of there quickly before they were caught.

"I'm going to remove the glass and dress your wound as best as possible so we can escape. In order for me to do that, however, I need you to be very, VERY, brave, Penners. Can you do that?" He asked, taking a hold of his friend's paw in his own before giving it a squeeze.

"You know I'm not very brave, sir." Penfold answered, honestly.

DM thought a moment, before quickly removing his titanium alloy badge from his suit. Dropping it into his astonished friend's paw, he said, "Hold this, and think brave thoughts whilst I work. I'll do my utmost to be gentle. But I also need you not to move. Got it?"

Penfold nodded numbly, clutching his best friend's badge in his paw so tightly his knuckle turned a lighter shade of brown.

Next, DM grabbed a bottle of vodka and dug out a clean handkerchief from his pocket. He grimaced as he removed the lid from the vodka, especially since Penfold twigged what he was about to do and whimpered.

"Chief, please, it'll hurt…!"

"It will sting," DM acknowledged, gravely. "But please, this is better than letting it get infected. I don't want to see that happen to you, little friend. This won't take long, and I can get you straight to the hospital to get those sutures done."

Penfold gulped in fright, sensing he had no choice. With his friend's badge still in his paw, he silently nodded he was ready.

….

About 10 minutes later, the White Wonder had removed the glass, disinfected the gash, and dressed it. He wrung his paws regretfully at not being able to do more, but he needed to get them both out and away from here as soon as possible; he had been on guard whilst tending to Penfold's injuries,

"Thanks, sir." Penfold said, with a quiet awe, before continuing, causally "It wasn't bad as I feared- just stingy. I just hope…"

"Come on, Penfold!" DM interrupted impatiently, grabbing his assistant before dashing out to the Mark III, parked outside in an alleyway round the corner.

"Honestly, Chief! Where now?" Penfold asked impatiently.

"Hospital, remember? You need A&E, pronto!" his boss reminded him, bundling him into the car and driving off as quickly as he dared, still wary about injuries. Once he deemed them to be a safe distance away, he set the car into flight mode, and put in coordinates for London Royal Hospital.

….

Two hours later, the plucky pals were home at their Mayfair pillar-box HQ. DM had to report to Colonel K about the failed mission, their blown cover, the fight that ensued, and their subsequent injuries, as well as the hospital trip.

"Tsk, bad show, Danger Mouse!" Colonel K exclaimed crossly, banging his fist on the table in typical Colonel K disapproval. "I just hope you both got out alright." He added grimly, noting Penfold's stitches.

"More or less, sir. Penfold got the worst of it, but we're both a bit battered. Nothing more." DM replied stiffly.

"Hmph, he can talk!" Penfold sniffed.

"Penfold, shush," Danger Mouse replied wearily. "Just shush, please."

Penfold did, seeing the exhaustion and frustration in his superior's eye, and decided now wasn't the best time to say anything more.

"I'll get 57 to take over from you both for the time being." the Colonel decided. "Focus on recuperation, you both."

"Thank you, Colonel." Danger Mouse answered graciously.

"I shall speak to you later, Danger Mouse." The Colonel added, and his top agent gulped at these fatal words.

"Right, of course, sir. Over and out, Colonel." Danger Mouse said, with a small gulp that didn't escape the tiny hamster.

"Right. Over and flounder."

Despite his concern, DM gave an eye roll at the Colonel's latest mistake before the videophone crackled and faded. With a sigh, he made his way over to the sofa to sit down, feeling frustrated with himself…. First with the blown cover, then the fight, then the A&E dash, and accidentally causing a Secret Service Search Party to be launched when he failed to get in touch with Colonel K.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, deciding an early night would be wise. After all, he hadn't done a very good job of things at all- for tonight had just been a big, bloody mess and he was quite happy to just forget it had ever happened.

But he couldn't- he had to remember the odd missions he failed so he could learn from his mistakes and avoid repeating them- especially when the safety of his friends and colleagues had been endangered by his failures.

He was suddenly startled out of his thoughts by a pair of arms wrapping around his waist. Peeking down, he saw Penfold snuggle into his belly before letting out a soft snore.

'Cheeky devil,' thought DM, although he felt sympathetic about Penfold's time in hospital, so he merely wrapped an arm around his friend, his heart warmed at the trust and affection Penfold was showing him, even when in the arms of Morpheus.

There was another reason DM had to remember his mistakes, no matter how much he wanted to forget them; making too grave a mistake would cost him his job, something he enjoyed doing and achieve his goal of saving the world from evil despots like Baron Greenback and Augustus P. Crumhorn; but, more importantly, cost him Penfold.

Penfold was so much more than an employee to him; he was his best friend, his family, his light in the dark, when DM himself gave up.

It was for that alone that DM was so determined not to lose him for real on his next mission, which was why he had to remember his old mistakes and avoid repeating them.

But he could face the repercussions of those mistakes, so long as Penfold remained alive, safe and well at home beside him.