Chapter Text
Milo Murphy has woken up in many odd situations before.
Trees coming in through his window are so normal he gets a bit worried when it doesn’t happen. Waking up sprawled on his bedroom floor, or the floor of the room underneath, or in a pool or water, whatever it is he is always prepared. Murphy’s Law means he is always prepared for everything, even when he just wakes up.
Today he wakes up and winces at his pounding headache. It feels like someone is swinging a hammer around inside of his brain, and he would really rather fall back asleep.
He reaches up to rub his head- or tries to. He finds that he can’t lift his arm. He tries the other, and that won’t budge either. Like they are being held down. An attempt to shift around shows him that the rest of him is being held down too, is being held upright by something tight and uncomfortable.
He blinks and looks down to see metal restraints on his wrists and ankles, attaching him firmly to a very uncomfortable chair. The restraints dig in, are sure to be leaving red marks. And now, despite his usual calmness, he is squirming around, because this is definitely not good. There are very few good reasons to wake up bound to a chair.
Straining isn’t going to work, and is just hurting him. That’s obvious. So he takes a deep breath and tries a different tack. Where is he? He looks around the room. It is brightly lit, so brightly lit that it makes his headache worse. And other than him and the chair, it is mostly empty. There is another chair, a more comfortable looking one, placed directly across from him. As he watches, one of the legs breaks and the chair collapses.
Unfortunately, his own chair has no such luck. He tries to think through the pain. He must have been kidnapped. But why? Who would kidnap him, what could they want from him? He can’t think of anything about himself that would make someone want to do that.
He takes another deep breath and tries to smile. This is bad, sure, but it could be worse! He is alive, other than his headache he seems to be in pretty good physical condition, and at least whoever kidnapped him isn’t here.
He mentally tells himself off for taunting fate when he hears a door creep open behind him. Footsteps on the sterile white floor, approaching him from behind. He flinches when he is tapped on the head, none too gently. “You awake, kiddo?”
He bobs his head once. And the figure, his kidnapper, walks around to be in his view. A woman with curly brown hair, wearing a dark blue jacket. She doesn’t look like a kidnapper. Not the stereotypical burly man in a black mask anyway. Is it a bad sign that she isn’t wearing a mask?
“Aw, my chair.” She shrugs. “Oh well.”
“You can just stand, it will do you some good.” If Milo wasn’t stuck to the chair, he would’ve jumped out of his skin. There was someone else behind him. He tries to look back at her, but he can’t see. “Can we get on with this?” She is very close to him, and it makes him want to squirm away. But he can’t, he’s trapped.
“Ok, ok.” The woman in front of him looks directly at him now. “Hello, Milo.”
“Hi!” He says. “What’s your name?”
“Call me Sally.” Sally says. “And I’m very happy to finally be meeting you.”
“I wish I could say the same, but…” Milo squirms around in his restraints. “… why am I here?”
“Ah. Down to business already? The kiddo’s like you, Penny.” Sally laughs. There is a twinkle in her eyes, in any other situation she would seem very friendly and not intimidating in the least. Right now, her playfulness is so out of place it makes her scarier.
“Penelope.” Comes the swift correction. Then he feels a tight grip on his shoulder and he squeaks in surprise. “Stop squirming.”
He falls still. The grip is removed.
“Well done, kiddo. This won’t be so bad, as long as you keep behaving.” Sally smiles. “Now, the reason you’re here is actually nothing to do with you at all! You know about the organisation your friends Cavendish and Dakota work for?”
Milo’s eyes widen. What do they want with Cavendish and Dakota? “No.” He says, an awkward attempt at a lie.
"Don’t-" Penelope grips his shoulder again. But this time much tighter, her nails digging into his skin. He winces and tries his best to squirm away, but he can’t, he’s stuck and he can’t move and it hurts. "-lie to us."
"Ok, ok! I’m sorry!" Milo yelps. The grip doesn’t release, and in fact seems to get worse.
"Come on kiddo, what did we say about squirming?" Sally asks.
Milo presses his hands into the metal armrests, presses his feet into the ground, and tries his best to stop squirming. After a long few moments, the grip releases. "There we go. Was that so hard?" Sally asks.
Not wanting to anger them again, Milo shakes his head.
"Exactly. Now, where we we?" Sally frowns. "Oh right, why you’re here. So, Cavendish and Dakota work for B.O.T.T. And we have some… differences with the organisation, boring adult stuff, nothing for you to worry about. But the point is that we need them to do something for us. And you’re going to help!"
Cavendish will be happy, he finally got his counteragents, Milo thinks. His stomach squirms with anxiety. "And how am I going to do that?" He asks nervously.
"I’m so glad you asked! He’s such a clever kiddo, isn’t he Penny?" Sally beams. Penelope does not answer. A silent, lingering presence behind him. Unless he does something to annoy her. "Well, they may not want to do what we need them to do. We’re hoping that your presence here will give them the encouragement they need to do it!"
So he’s a hostage. Well that hopefully means they won’t kill him? Unless Cavendish and Dakota don’t do whatever it is they are supposed to, but he is pretty sure that they will. Which is a problem because he doesn’t want them to do something that will lead to people getting hurt. He doesn’t know what these counteragents want, but he doubts it will be good.
"So what we need you to do is pretty simple, kiddo." Sally carries on. "We’re going to film you. We just need you to tell them that you’ve been kidnapped, that you’re alive for now, but you’re scared and you need them to help. Then we’ll explain the rest. Got it?"
Milo narrows his eyes, even as that for now rings in his ears. "No."
"Really? I thought it was quite simple. How old is he again? I’ve always been terrible with kid’s ages.” Sally says over his head to the still unseen Penelope. “Ok, so in simpler terms-“
“No, I understood that.” Milo interrupts her. Bad idea. Sally nods at Penelope, who this time digs her nails into his bare upper arm. He squeaks and tries his best not to squirm, but it hurts, and she is drawing blood, and she doesn’t let go, her nails like claws clamping down. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have interrupted!”
She keeps doing it for a few moments longer, silent and stoic while he screws his face up and forces himself to stay still. They she releases. “No, you shouldn’t have.” She says, her tone reminding him of a stern teacher. “Continue, Sally.”
“Ok kiddo, what did you mean then?” Sally asks him, bending down to be on his level. He gulps and tries to answer steadily.
“I mean, I won’t do that. I won’t say what you want me to say.” He says. “I don’t want them to do something bad for me.”
He holds his breath, anticipating a bad reaction. Anticipating more pain. What comes is laughter.
“Oh, kiddo.” Sally sniggers. “That’s brave of you, really it is. But be sensible here.”
Milo doesn’t say anything. Fear is squirming in his chest now, but he doesn’t let himself squirm physically.
“Is it that you are not scared? Is that the problem?” Penelope asks, voice cold and amused. “Because I can fix that.”
Milo steels himself. “I’m not scared of you.” He says in the strongest voice he can muster.
“What did we say about lying, kiddo?”
———
Cavendish and Dakota are walking along the pavement, talking together. It’s a nice, pleasant afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, and someone is calling their names.
Someone is calling their names?
They turn around to see Milo’s friends hurrying towards them. “Murphy’s friends?” Cavendish asks.
“Have you seen Milo?” The girl asks, with no preamble.
“Nice to see you too.” Cavendish retorts. “And no, I haven’t seen him. Why?”
They don’t miss the sagging of their shoulders, the worried look they exchange. “Milo’s missing.”
“Again?!” Dakota exclaims.
“Yeah. He didn’t come to school, and then I got a call from his mom saying that he wasn’t there in the morning, they haven’t seen him since yesterday night when he went to bed. We’ve been looking all day.” Melissa explains.
“I’m sure that he’s fine.” Dakota reassures. “Probably just got chased away by a lion or something.”
“Yes, I am sure he is alright.” Cavendish agrees. “If we find him we will let him know that you are worried.”
“Thanks. Come on, let’s try the other side of town.” Melissa suggests. They walk away together, and they don’t seem very reassured.
“Do you think he is actually in danger?” Cavendish asks, brow furrowing.
“It’s probably just Murphy’s Law, he’s probably in danger but he always is.” Dakota chuckles fondly. “He’ll be ok.”
———
It is getting dark when they get a call. They exchange a look- what does their boss want now- before Cavendish gets up to answer it. “Mr Block, sir-“
The woman standing there is not Mr Block. She is tall and grey haired, serious and professional in red clothing. Neither of them recognise her.
“I am going to play you a video.” She begins, making no effort to explain. “After you watch it, I will give you more detail.”
“Wait, what?” Dakota stands up. “Who are you?”
The woman ignores him, and before he can ask anything else a video pops up on the screen. It starts to play.
Dakota gasps. Next to him, Cavendish gasps too. Because Milo is on the screen. He is bound to a metal chair, with tight looking metal restraints that are sure to bruise, are sure to hurt. There are funny looking marks on his arm, red and painful. They can see fresh bruises on his arms and face, and while that isn’t exactly uncommon for him the thought of the source makes Dakota feel sick
He is scowling at someone behind the camera, but beneath that scowl his fear and pain is obvious. And then whoever he is glaring at speaks, in a lilting voice that makes Dakota want to punch them. “The kiddo was supposed to speak, but he is being uncooperative at the moment. We are working on that-“ Dakota feels even more sick, what does that mean? “-but for now I will give you a quick overview. We have something we want you to do. My colleague will tell you about that. If you want to see your little friend again, I’d recommend you do it.”
“You sure there isn’t anything you want to say to your friends, kiddo?” The woman then asks the boy in the chair. Milo hesitates, then focuses on the camera.
“Cavendish, Dakota, don’t… don’t do what they want you to do. I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” Dakota’s heart aches, watching Milo being so brave when he clearly isn’t fine.
“Well, you could listen to the kiddo if you want, I suppose.” The woman behind the camera says. “If you value his opinion more than his life.”
The video ends. The last thing they see is Milo’s shaky attempt to smile at the camera, his shaky attempt to reassure them.
And the woman who spoke to them before appears. Cavendish storms right up to the screen. “What on earth was that?!” He asks, furious. Scared.
“I think it was perfectly clear. I can explain more clearly. ‘We have Milo Murphy and we will kill him if you do not do what we say’, does that help?”
Dakota’s fists clench, fury rising in him like sick rising in your throat. “How could you do this? He’s a child, you- you monster!”
“And you can help him. You just need to comply.” The woman says.
Dakota is shaking with rage. He needs to… he needs to…
He needs to keep Milo safe. And if that means going along with this villain for now, then fine. He can do that.
“What do you want us to do?” Cavendish asks after a few moments of silence. The woman smiles, with such smug satisfaction that Dakota would like to do a Cavendish and smash the screen with a chair. But then what would they do to Milo?
She explains in a clipped, professional way. They need them to interfere with another agent’s mission. It will be difficult, it will be incredibly illegal, but not impossible. They should be able to do this.
“And now, the rules.” The woman clears her throat. “If you refuse to complete this mission, we will kill the boy. If you fail, we will kill the boy. If you tell anyone else about this, we will kill the boy.”
Cavendish speaks hesitantly. “What about his family or friends?”
“Especially them.”
The men exchange a look. Knowing why Milo is missing, knowing that he is in serious danger but at least alive, and not telling his family or friends? Who are currently frantically searching for him? That just feels wrong. But with those threats…
“We understand.” Cavendish nods.
Dakota has realised something else. Combining what he just learned with what Melissa and Zack told him earlier, Milo has been with these people for hours. They’ve had him all day, locked up and alone.
And even if he and Cavendish make no mistakes, work more quickly and perfectly than any time they have before, they’ll still have him for ages yet. And they won’t kill him, not while he is their leverage, but what else could they do to him? What have they already done?
“I will be in contact periodically. Good luck.” The feed cuts. The screen is black.
“What are we going to do, Dakota?” Cavendish asks, panic rising now they are alone.
Dakota sighs. It rankles him to go along with this, to do something so clearly wrong for someone so clearly horrible, but they don’t have a choice. They both know that, and so do Milo’s captors. “Exactly what she told us to.”
———
The door slams shut behind them, the noise making Milo wince. But finally he is alone.
He lets himself slump backwards in the chair, taking a deep breath. Ok. Ok, this will be fine. Cavendish and Dakota know he has been taken, so they can… rescue him? Yeah, that.
Or they’ll go along with his captor’s demands, which would be bad. But at least he will get out, in that case, although his stomach squirms with guilt. Either way, he just needs to hold on and wait for the rescue. This is going to work out, just like it always does.
He wishes that he could at least move. His wrists and ankles ache where the restraints are digging in, and his entire body is stiff from not moving for… for hours.
How long has it been? He has no idea, this room has no windows and it is extremely brightly lit. He was probably taken sometime during the night, but he doesn’t know what time it is now.
He is exhausted, which is another point in favour of it being hours since he was taken. But then again, that might just be due to everything that has happened. His body throbs and he wishes he could just fall asleep, close his eyes and wake up to his friends here to get him, but the lights are too bright. The lights hold him awake when his body yearns for rest.
He doesn’t know how long it has been before Sally is standing in front of him again, and Penelope looming behind, but he knows for a fact that he didn’t rest at all the whole time. And that is making it’s mark. His body feels so heavy it’s like his body passed out and forgot to send his brain the message. When Sally goes to ruffle his hair he is sluggish to react, so she is able to roughly ruffle it without any resistance. This seems to please her.
“Good afternoon, kiddo!” Sally is too loud. He winces and screws his face up.
Afternoon? So has he only been here a few hours? That doesn’t sound right, but he accepts it. “Good afternoon.” He says, making an effort at his usual brightness.
“Aw, he looks all sad now.” Sally tilts her head to one side, reminding him of a dog. But like the vicious, bloodthirsty kind. “Don’t worry kiddo, Cavendish and Dakota are being slightly more competent than normal so they should finish up sometime soon!”
“They’re always competent.” Milo insists sluggishly, then even in his disoriented state jumps when a hand clatters onto the chair, right next to him.
“Now come on Penny, I find it cute! He’s so loyal, it’s very sweet.” Sally crouches down to his level, then grasps his chin to raise it with her hand. He didn’t even realise how much his head had drooped. “But she’s right you know kiddo, you shouldn’t talk back like that.”
He holds back from squirming out of her grasp. After a few long, uncomfortable moments, she lets go. His head droops down like a wilting flower, despite his efforts to hold it up. Sally studies him for a while, then takes out her phone and holds it up to point at him.
He doesn’t realise what she is doing for a while, in his exhausted state, and by the time he does it is too late.
———
Cavendish’s communicator buzzes. Dakota jumps. “Bad time, Cavendish!” He hisses, not taking his eyes off of the delicate task in front of him.
“I know, I apologise, I should’ve put it on silent.” Cavendish whispers. He is standing guard while Dakota works. It is late afternoon, the day after they received the call, and while they are making progress they still have a long way to go. There are so many risks, so many factors to consider, and while usually they are both willing to let some things slide, with Milo’s life on the line they have to be certain.
But Cavendish still kept his communicator on, because what if Milo’s captors got in touch? He doesn’t want to miss anything.
There is a video, sent by a number he doesn’t recognise. He turns the volume right down and presses play.
Milo again, still restrained to the chair. There are more bruises on him, which makes Cavendish scowl furiously. Even more concerning, Milo looks incredibly unwell. He looks much paler than normal, and his hand is hanging down, drooping like an unwatered plant. For a while he sits in silence, limp in his restraints, apparently unaware of the fact that he is being filmed. There is a figure behind him, in the harsh bright light of the room Cavendish can see her clearly. He can’t see her face, but he is sure from her red clothing and stiff stance that it is the woman from the call.
After a while, something seems to click in Milo’s brain and his head shoots up to look at the phone. “Are you filming?” He asks, and his that a tremor in his voice? Cavendish is examining every tiny detail, desperate for information on Milo’s condition. His eyes are dark and puffy.
“Just a little encouragement to send to your friends. You wanna say hi, kiddo?” The woman behind the camera asks.
Milo focuses on the camera again. “Guys, I’m fine. Please don’t…” He trails, and Cavendish’s heart aches. And then the video ends.
“What was it?” Dakota asks, coming over now that he is done.
Cavendish puts the communicator back in his pocket and glares at the wall. “We need to pick up the pace.”
———
And they do, they do. But when they drive away, mission complete, they are driving over fresh morning dew.
As soon as they are in a safe location, Cavendish uses his communicator to contact the number that sent him the video. She picks up. “Ah, Cavendish.”
“We’ve done it.” He says immediately. “Now give back the boy.”
“We will. Meet us at the coordinates I’m sending you, back in the time he’s from.” The woman hangs up before any more questions can be asked.
And just as with every other order they have been given, they comply.
———
Has it still only been a few hours? Milo isn’t sure.
He desperately wants to collapse, but he just can’t. He has tried over and over.
And Sally and Penelope have taken to staying in the room with him, talking loudly (that’s Sally) and grabbing and hitting him from behind (Penelope), which ruins any slight chance that his body might take mercy on him and pass out despite the brightness of the lights.
Penelope leaves at some point. He only notices because she taps him on the head when she comes back, startling him out of a spell of grogginess that he was praying would be it. He sighs, and is surprised to find his sigh choked with tears. Who knew that being exhausted would be so painful?
It’s kind of hard to understand what they are saying through the haze, so he tunes them out. He does notice, however, when his restraints are released. He staggers up, chasing some faint idea of running, only to be immediately slammed into the floor. The breath is knocked out of him.
His hands are grabbed and tightly cuffed behind him. Unnecessary, really. He can barely stand, never mind run. But they are taking the precaution anyway. Penelope (he knows it’s her even without sight, her hands are cold and fingernails sharp) grips his upper arms tightly as she hauls him to his feet. He stumbles, and he doesn’t bother trying to fight. He has to put all of his focus on staying on his feet as he is escorted out of the bright room.
Down the corridor, and then outside. He takes a deep breath, basking in the cool air. It is strange though, he thought it was evening. That would make sense. So he undershot a bit, he has been a captive for just over a day. That’s not too bad, right?
There is a car waiting, and he is unceremoniously shoved into the back. He is shoved down against the floor, held by a foot. And sure it’s uncomfortable, but it’s dim, and the movement of the car is lulling, and he finds himself finally, finally drifting off.
———
They get out of their time vehicle at the coordinates. They are in pretty much the middle of nowhere and right now they are alone.
Dakota has Cavendish’s communicator, to watch the video he was sent. Again. It hurts him, it isn’t helpful, but he just has to keep watching. How much worse will he be after a day? Could they have gone faster, rescued him quicker?
He is jolted out of his guilt by the arrival of a car, at the other side of the large open area. A woman steps out, a woman he doesn’t recognise. She is short, with curly brown hair and a blue jacket. She looks friendly, soft.
Then she speaks and her voice sends jolts of fear and anger through both men. “Glad to finally meet you in person.”
Because that is the voice from the videos. That is the voice that teased and taunted and threatened Milo. Dakota’s blood boils, but while they still have Milo he can’t lose it. “We did it, now give him back.”
“Hold on, hold on! You’ve taken three days to complete this mission, and you can’t even give me three minutes of pleasantries?”
Pure, dead silence.
“Fine.” She clicks her fingers. The back door opens. And out steps a woman, the woman who called both times, and she is dragging…
“Milo!” Dakota exclaims, stepping forwards. He receives a warning look and steps backwards.
Milo looks sallow and pale, like he is sapped of colour. The bruises and marks on his face and arms stand out. And he looks like he has been sapped of life too. He looks groggy and disoriented, and once he is dragged out it takes him a few moments to focus on the men across the field.
Once he does, some life seems to return. He manages a shaky, shocked smile. His hands are cuffed behind him, which angers them even more because what was the need? Other than to be cruel.
“We have checked, and time was changed as we wanted. So we will keep our word.” Penelope says. She unlocks the cuffs, then with no warning releases Milo.
He falls forward, barely putting his hands out to catch himself in time. He staggers up, then looks behind him. Sally nods.
He starts to walk towards them, stumbling on shaky legs. Then he starts to go faster. And then he collides with Dakota, wrapping his arms around him. Dakota can feel him trembling.
“Hey, you’re alright. You’re ok. It’s over.” Dakota hushed as he puts his arms around the boy and squeezes tight, trying to put as much reassurance as possible into the hug. “You’re safe now.”
“Hurts…” Milo mumbles, the exhausted uncertainty so out of place in his bright, cheerful voice. “And I’m tired…”
“I know, I know.” Dakota soothes.
“But it’s over now, I promise.” Cavendish joins in the hug, wrapping the boy in as much security as possible.
They both look up when they hear Sally’s voice. They close in even more around Milo, hugging him tighter, determined to protect him. “Well, everything worked out, didn’t it?” She says cheerfully. The furious scowls from the men don’t affect her in the least. “See you around, kiddo! We’ll be back if we need something else.”
“You won’t ever take him again.” Cavendish snaps. Sally just smiles as she steps back into the car and starts it, Penelope right next to her.
“It’s ok now, kid. They’re gone and I promise we won’t let them take you again.” Dakota murmurs, expecting Sally’s words to have scared Milo. “No matter what.”
But when the car disappears into the timestream and he looks down at the boy in his arms, he finds that Milo has passed out. He is leaning into them, eyes shut, a peaceful expression on his face as he breathes quietly.
He is still not well, they’re still going to need to take him to the hospital. They are still going to need to explain to the police, and his friends, and his parents, and none of those conversations are going to be pleasant. And Milo is probably going to be affected by this experience for a while yet.
But for the moment they hold him gently as he finally gets to sleep.