Chapter Text
Milo is tied to a chair. He is struggling, but he can’t move. Can’t escape. The room is as bright as a sun, but he can’t see anything. Just blinding, painful white.
“Kiddo!” Her voice grates in his ears, sends a sharp shock of fear through his chest. He struggles even more fiercely. And then a hand clamps onto his shoulder and his body falls limp. Now he can’t move, no matter how much he tries to.
Voices burrow into his skull, the pressure on his shoulder feels like a clamp, and everything gets brighter and brighter until…
He opens his eyes and finds himself in the dark.
He looks around, gasping for breaths. He is trembling like a leaf, and his face is wet. The room is dark, and he soon registers it as his room. His own room. Where he is safe, where Sally is nowhere near.
He doesn’t feel safe. He covers his face with his trembling hands, and tears still sneak out from under them. He tries his best to slow his breathing, but it is still far too fast.
After his days of captivity, long days of sleeplessness, at first he had been glad to sleep. But then the nightmares began. Every night, over and over. Reliving the terrifying, painful experience. He dreads sleep now, but when he gets even slightly sleepy he starts to panic. It’s like being caught between a herd of buffalo and a herd of bison (something that has in fact happened to him).
In fact, he rescinds that. The incident with the buffalo and the bison was nowhere near as bad as things are right now.
He scrubs his eyes with his fists. His throat aches, and his eyes are surely bright red now. He is curled in a tight ball, blanket tossed to the side. A tree has come in through his window, but he barely notices it.
He uncurls a bit to glance at his clock. Very, very early morning. Sighing, he stares up at the ceiling and waits impatiently for proper morning. He can distract himself from these memories during the day. He can’t do that at night, when he is alone.
———
Morning comes with little fanfare. As soon as light starts peeking through the curtains, he gets up and dresses. By the time his family are up, he has eaten and is watching the TV in the living room.
“You’re up early.” His dad sounds concerned. That would never have happened before.
“Wasn’t tired.” A slight white lie. But said with a big enough smile, it seems to be believed.
His mom comes around and sits down next to him. “Are you sure you’re ready to go back to school, honey?”
He totally forgot about that. But the smile that pops to his face is entirely genuine. “Of course! I’m totally fine now, I want to go back.”
“It’s ok if you want to take a few more days.” His mom pats his knee. “You’ve been through a horrific experience, no one would blame you.”
“It’ll help me more to go back.” Milo insists. “Something else to think about.”
No one can argue with that. So he gets ready for school and heads out. Everything is completely normal- aside from the fact that his mom insists on driving him. And she isn’t swayed by his arguments that normality is better this time.
He has to admit that he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t like the thought of walking alone, even the few blocks before he can meet his friends. Sally could come from anywhere.
She took him from his bed last time, after all.
Sally will probably never come back. She got what she wanted, and he was never a real player in that game- just a pawn. She has no reason to take him again, but that logic doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to be vulnerable to her attack.
“Here we go.” His mom says. He jumps, looking out the window to see he is at school. He had been completely lost in his own head, which he would usually never do because that’s how Murphy’s Law gets you. He needs to be ready and on guard, not away with the fairies.
Melissa and Zack are waiting at the side of the road, waving and smiling. So he waves back and gets out. “Bye mom.”
She hugs him tightly. He senses that she is really worried, unusual for his mom- but considering he was kidnapped, it isn’t exactly surprising. So he hugs her back, tight and squeezing. Then he hugs Diogee, who wasn’t supposed to come but has come anyway. “Diogee, go home! Silly dog.”
As soon as he reaches Melissa and Zack, he is engulfed in another hug. “You saw me yesterday!” He points out. He isn’t really complaining.
“Too long ago.” Melissa releases him and they start walking towards the school. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Me too.” Zack agrees. “I had to get the bus so many times.” Then all laugh. Milo is certain that he made the right decision, coming today. He feels ten times lighter whenever he is around his friends. He is sure that today is going to go well.
He doesn’t suspect otherwise until they reach the front door. People scurry away from him, yell hellos from a distance, cry out when the sign above the door nearly falls on him, all of that is usual. But a few classmates are looking at him differently. Not like they’re scared. Like they feel bad.
“Do people know?” He asks.
Melissa looks confused. “Know what?”
“That I… you know. About what happened.” Milo doesn’t really want to say it out loud.
“They shouldn’t, we didn’t tell them.” Zack says. “But we said that you were in the hospital.”
“I’m always in the hospital.” Milo says. “And they never look at me like that.” People find his accidents scary, or exciting. They don’t look at him like he’s a kicked puppy. They don’t look nervous in a sympathetic sort of way.
He sits down in class and eyes are on him. At first, this could be mistaken for curiosity about his wet hair (water fountain explosion) or the huge scratch down his arm (car door). But it clearly isn’t. It’s different.
Somehow, his classmates found out. He thinks- it was on the news, but his name wasn’t used. But if enough details were used, his classmates might have put it together. Even just a tiny rumour can turn to a wildfire in a middle school classroom.
Melissa and Zack look worriedly at him. He smiles and waved them off, greets his class. It doesn’t matter that they know. No one would ever say anything to him, they would never be cruel. And this is no different from them whispering about him falling off of a cliff or being in a shipwreck. They’ll soon realise that he’s just the same Milo they’ve know since grade school. Them knowing about the kidnapping won’t change anything.
———
“Excuse me, you’re Milo Murphy, right?” Milo turns in the corridor to see a small girl looking up at him. She looks like she’s probably in her first year at middle school, and she seems vaguely familiar. Maybe the younger sibling of a classmate?
“That’s me!” Milo smiles. It’s not uncommon for new students to come up to him, as a show of bravery or out of sheer curiosity. Generally it has long tapered off by this point in the year, however. “Do you need something?”
“Did you really get kidnapped?” The girl’s eyes are wide, shiny. Milo’s heart suddenly decides to emulate a car when a herd of buffalo and a herd of bison run out into the road in front of it. He just stares at her. “Because my brother says you got kidnapped.”
Milo blinks and takes a deep breath. “I did.” He says. The girl’s eyes widen even farther, now doing a pretty good job of emulating a dinner plate.
“Why?”
Milo winces. He looks around, hoping for a boulder or crashing plane or buffalo or bison herds. Anything for an excuse to leave this conversation. But nothing comes, and the girl is still gazing up at him. “They needed something from some adults I know.”
“You were a hostage?!” The girl gapes. “Did they hurt you? Did they torture you? That’s what my brother says.”
“No!” Milo’s notices that his voice is getting louder and turns it down. “They didn’t. I’m fine.” He’s fine, except she’s pressing and now he can’t distract himself because she’s asking questions, dozens of them. She keeps asking them, and he answers with absent responses.
She sounds very far away now, and the world seems fuzzy. He stands very still, trying to think about something else, anything else. He can’t. It’s too bright. He squeezes his eyes shut, but it doesn’t help.
A hand touches his bare upper arm.
He freezes, his body tensing. He stops breathing entirely, his thoughts screech to a halt. All he can think about is that hand on his arm. He is frozen, helpless. Just waiting for the pain, and maybe that irrational and he should move but he can’t.
“-lo? Milo?” A voice breaks through the haze. Not cold or teasing. Warm and concerned. Maybe a bit flustered. It takes him a few seconds to realise that it’s Zack. “Milo, we’re gonna go to the bathroom. Ok?”
He nods once. Then he mumbles. “Arm…”
“What? Oh!” The hand on his arm disappears instantly. Then he feels the same hand grasp his own hand. “This better?”
He nods again. They start walking together, although Milo feels like he is walking on autopilot. He focuses on the grip on his hand like a lifeline as his feet move. One after the other. The world is too blurry, too fuzzy, too bright, even with his eyes shut. His legs are shaking so much it is a miracle he is still on his feet.
Then Zack stops. He crashes into his back, earning a quiet yelp. “Ok, we’re alone now.” Zack says.
Milo’s legs finally give way and he crumples to the ground. Zack shoots out to catch him, lowers him gently. Milo just slumps against him, trembling like a leaf. Zack keeps holding his hand, moves his thumb in a circular motion on his knuckles. It’s a nice feeling. He focuses on it.
He keeps focusing on that steady movement until he feels able to open his eyes. When he does, the first thing he notices is the dark. Zack must have turned off the lights when they came in.
He sits quietly for a while. Zack doesn’t say anything, he just sits there and supports him. Comforts him silently. They must sit there for ages, in companionable silence, until Milo finds his words again. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Zack stays exactly where he is. Even in the darkness, Milo can see the comforting smile on his face. “Do you feel better now?”
Milo bobs his head. “I don’t know what happened. That kid just kept asking questions, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
“I think that’s a normal reaction to someone asking you loads of questions about something horrible that happened to you.” Zack says. Milo detects a hint of anger in his voice. “I’m sorry that it happened. We would’ve stopped her if we were there.”
“Not your fault.” Milo says. “I could’ve told her I didn’t want to talk about it, but I didn’t want to be rude and then I just… freaked out.” He lowers his head, presses his free hand into his eyes. “I’m not used to feeling like this, I’m not used to panicking so much. I’ve had loads of bad things happen to me, why is this one making me act so different?”
“I don’t know.” Zack admits. “But it’s normal, alright? No one’s gonna judge you for it. And if they do, Melissa will kick them into next week.”
Milo laughs. A sad, spluttery sort of laugh, but a laugh. “I hope she isn’t beating up that kid right now.”
“She promised nothing physical.” Zack jokes. Milo laughs again, and this time it sounds a lot less sad. “And I think she’s outside the bathroom right now, making sure no one comes in. Do you wanna text your mom and get picked up?”
Milo shakes his head. “I can manage… yeah. Yeah, I would.” He concedes.
So he texts his mom, and then he just has to wait. Zack stays, even though the bell has long since gone. Milo appreciates that, because the grip on his hand is holding him in this bathroom, keeping him out of any bright cells or metal chairs.
He hears an exclamation from outside. Then the door opens, and a small, fluffy animal trots towards Milo. “Diogee!” Milo exclaims. Diogee nudges him and climbs onto his lap. “Silly dog. You’re not supposed to be at school.” He doesn’t tell the dog to go home. He uses his free hand to stroke him, sinking it into the fluff. His dog settles down, snuggles in. “Good boy.”
Zack is huddled next to him, holding his hand while he leans against him. Diogee is snuggled in his lap. Melissa hovers protectively in the doorway. He still feels shaky, still feels scared, but he feels better.