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Milo hugs his knees, resting his chin on top of them. He doesn’t know how long he has been alone in here. There isn’t any way to tell. His cell is small, and it doesn’t have a window. The walls are grey, and the floor is darker grey. The bed is made of dark metal, screwed to the wall. Whenever he moves, it creaks loudly. The blanket has a D emblazoned on it. A while ago he turned it over so he can’t see it.
There is a metal toilet and sink, which broke a while ago. Water is spurting onto the floor. And there is a window on the door, but he can’t see out through it. When he looks, he just sees himself. He guesses that it is one way glass. So he could be be watched any time, and he wouldn’t know. He tries not to think about that too much.
He doesn’t know how long he has been in here, but he has been here for ages. Every so often, a robot comes in, places down a tray of food, and leaves. The first few times he glared at them, asked to be let go, asked to see his family. Was as rude and defiant as possible, despite the fear that made him shake. Despite the homesickness that made him want to cry.
He was ignored every single time. And as time passed, as he was left alone for perhaps hours, perhaps days, perhaps even weeks… he became desperate. He tried to speak to them. Asked questions, tried to start a conversation, even though they were Normbots. He was ignored every single time.
He is so lonely. He just wants his parents, his sister, his dog, his best friend. He just wants someone. He didn’t realise before how terrible isolation is, but he gets it now. He would almost rather someone came in to taunt him, just so he wouldn’t be alone.
Every so often, Murphy’s Law makes something break. A robot comes in and repairs it. He tries to talk to them, every time. “I’m Milo.” He tries. Nothing. “Why am I here?” Nothing. “Can I see my family?” Nothing. “Please can I at least see someone? Even if they’re mean.” Nothing. “What’s being a robot like?” The sink is fixed and the robot is gone. He sighs.
He paces around the room, one foot after another. It is so small, so cramped. He counts the steps it takes to walk completely around the room, and it’s a small number. He counts it again, just in case. And another time. Focusing on counting distracts him from the sheer, painful loneliness.
And the fear. Why is he here, why would they take him? What on earth could they want with him, what are they doing to do to him? Why have they taken him and then left him alone for so long?
And what about his family? The last thing he saw when he was taken was Melissa running after him, screaming his name. He had screamed back. Is she safe? She has to be, she must be. What about Sara, he didn’t see her at all after they got split up in the chaos. And his parents… he thought he saw… but he must have been wrong. Surely.
He paces around and around and around until he can’t anymore. Then he sits back down on the bed. It creaks under him. He digs his hands into the rough blanket, and allows his eyes to shut. He can imagine anything when his eyes are shut. He can imagine that he isn’t stuck in a cell. He can be at home, with his family. He can be with his family. He doesn’t have to be alone.
But he is still alone. He is still alone, and desperate for anyone.
Suddenly, he hears a loud beep and jumps. And then the door opens with a loud, metal clang.
A young girl is standing in the doorway, looking at him. She has dark brown hair, and is wearing black clothes. She must be around Sara’s age, give or take, but that isn’t the main thing on Milo’s mind. The main thing is that unlike the robots, he could push past her. He stands up, imagining running through the door to freedom. She shuts it behind her, and he sits back down with a sigh. “Hello, Milo Murphy.”
She is talking to him. He stares for a moment, then replies. “Hi. What’s your name?” He asks.
She steps closer, and fear bursts through him. Who is she, why is she in his cell? Is she going to hurt him? “I’m Vanessa.” She says. “It’s nice to meet you, Milo, I just wish it had been under better circumstances.”
Milo looks up at her, heart thudding. “Why am I here, Vanessa?”
She looks sad, sympathetic. “My dad needs you for something.”
“Your da- you’re Vanessa Doofenshmirtz.” Milo realises. He moves back on the bed, as far as he can go. He hits his back off of the wall and still shrinks down lower.
“Yeah.” She doesn’t seem proud, she seems guilty. Maybe even annoyed. She doesn’t seem to actually like her dad that much. “You know your Extreme Hereditary Murphy's Law Condition?”
“We usually just call it Murphy’s Law.” Milo says. Despite himself, as she continues to be kind and unthreatening, he shuffles a bit closer. This is the first time he has been able to speak to another person in ages, and he finds himself drawn to her because of that.
“Yeah, well, dad invented a way to weaponise it.” Vanessa crosses her arms and sighs.
“Weaponise Murphy’s Law? How?”
“I’m not sure. He won’t let me see.” She says. “It took me a whole week to convince him to even let me come to you.”
“A whole… I’ve been here a whole week?” Milo asks. Vanessa nods once. He looks down at his hands. A whole week, captive, alone. No wonder he felt like he was going mad. “Oh…”
“I’m sorry, Milo. I want to try and help you. And I won’t let you be left alone like that, at least.” Vanessa promises. He looks into her eyes and believes her.
“Thank you.” He says in a small voice, surprised by how much the small kindness touches him after a week of isolation. “What about the others?”
Vanessa looks even more sad. She sits down next to him on the bed. “Your family were killed in the raid, Milo.”
The world stops. Milo stares at her, mute. Not understanding. Not comprehending. It can’t be, it can’t be. He doesn’t understand.
“There were five of you, weren’t there? Because of the unauthorised kid living there. And you’re the only one who survived, because you were taken. Everyone else… I’m sorry, Milo. I’m so sorry.”
Milo stares at her. It’s like a wall is built in front of him, blocking the meaning of her words from getting in. He just stares, until the wall breaks.
“No, no! They can’t… they can’t…” He exclaims in a voice choked with emotion. Tears build up behind his eyes, making his head and throat hurt. “They can’t be… no, no, no, please…” The tears begin to pour out, like a damn burst. And he sobs, his entire body shaking with them. He presses the palms of his hands into his face, sobs wracking his body, forceful as vomiting.
He cries for a while, with an agonising pain in his chest like the news actually broke him. It feels like something is broken, everything is broken. Everything is wrong, upside down, painful. Every time he thinks he might be calming down, he remembers and he starts sobbing even louder. His cries are loud and painful, his face covered in tears and snot. He doesn’t care.
A light, gentle hand touches his shoulder. He flinches, but it’s the first time he has been touched in a week. He leans into it, allowing the hand to rub his shoulder. It isn’t comforting, it doesn’t help. Nothing could help. But it doesn’t feel bad either.
How long does he sit there, sobbing and sobbing until his eyes run out of tears, his throat screams for water, and he fills sick? A long time. But finally the sobs fade to whimpers, as the tears won’t fall anyway. Vanessa gets up, and comes back a few seconds later with a cup of water. He takes it and drinks, but it tastes like mud. He says thank you anyway.
“I need to leave now.” She stands up. When her hand leaves his shoulder, it feels cold, painful, empty He looks sadly up at her, desperate to not be alone again. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”
She leaves, and he is alone again.
———
The next while (he still doesn’t know how long it is) passes in a blur of tears and grief. He is almost too sad to be frightened anymore. What could they do to him that is worse than killing his family?
Of course, he doesn’t know what they will do to weaponise Murphy’s Law.
But as time passes, he finds isolation joining his grief yet again. How long has it been? Is Vanessa going to come back? She promised not to leave him alone like this again, but he is alone. It feels even longer than before, even through his haze of grief. The grief is a constant ache, that sends a sharp stab of pain through him whenever he touches that delicate womb. The loneliness means he keeps touching it. There isn’t anything else to do.
His head shoots up every time the door opens. Every time it is a robot, to dump food or to repair damage. He is still hopeful, every time. She must come back at some point. She promised.
He never expected to be so desperate for the daughter of the emperor to come to him, but she was kind and he is just so, so lonely.
So when she comes back in, he perks up. “Vanessa!” He exclaims.
“Hey Milo.” She inclines her head as she shuts the door behind him. “Sorry for taking so long, dad has been keeping me busy. He’s a nightmare.” She laughs, sounding like a normal teenage girl complaining about her dad. Milo doesn’t laugh.
He has made hundreds of jokes with Melissa and Sara about how awful the emperor is, has never been respectful, but he has been well taught that telling those jokes in public will lead to imprisonment. Re-education. Is that why he is here? The shudders, the stories of what that is like bouncing around his brain like a painfully sharp bouncy ball.
Vanessa looks understanding of his lack of reaction. “You don’t have to be pretend to like him around me. He’s the worst.”
Milo squirms, rubbing his eyes. They are still puffy from crying. Vanessa sighs. “I can go if you want.”
“No! No, please don’t.” Milo says quickly, jumping up. She gives him a warning look and he sits back down. Right, they’re not friends. She is still his captor. He reminds himself of that and tries to bring a scowl to his face. He can’t keep it up, terrified that she will march right out again and leave him alone for another few weeks. He won’t cope, he really will go insane.
She stays for a while, talking about her day. He listens and replies and laughs, even if shakily and nervously. She is sympathetic of his plight, talks about how horrible her father is for leaving him in here. Then she leaves. His time, she doesn’t touch him at all. He is surprised by how much that upsets him.
The next time she comes in, it hasn’t been quite as long. It was still an agonisingly painful stretch of isolation though. So he lights up when she walks in. “Vanessa!”
“Hi, Milo.” She sounds somewhat hurried. “Ok kid, you need to come with me.”
“Why?” He asks nervously.
“You need to hurry and not ask questions.” She says. “You trust me, right?”
Milo hesitates. Does he? She’s his captor, he is a prisoner. But she has been kind when she didn’t have to, comforted him despite her father. Argued with her father to be allowed to help him. He nods once.
“Good. Come on.” He stands up and walks after her. She taps on the door, which was clearly a predetermined signal because it immediately opens. There is a Normbot standing outside, and Milo flinches back. The memory of his capture still lives in his brain, frightening him. Vanessa looks back at him. “It’ll be alright, you just need to trust me.” She says. She places a hand on his back to guide him forward, and the touch is so unexpected that he jumps before leaning into it as he follows her guidance. It is comforting, welcome.
That doesn’t help much when she guides him close to the Normbot, turns him around gently, and then the Normbot grabs him. He squeaks, automatically struggling, and the robot grasps him tighter. Squeezes. He panics and struggles more, suddenly back in time a few weeks. Being carried away from his family.
“Hey, hey!” Vanessa makes eye contact with the clearly terrified boy. “You’re alright, you’ll be ok. But I need you to stop squirming before it’ll loosen, ok? I promise nothing bad is going to happen.”
So despite his fear, Milo does his best to go limp. And the grip does indeed loosen, still firm and uncomfortable but not painfully tight. Vanessa smiles. “See, that’s it. Well done.”
He manages a shaky smile back. Vanessa leads the way out of the room, and the robot follows. So for the first time in weeks, Milo is out of that tiny cell. He looks around at his surroundings, drinking it all in. The walls are grey, decorated with Ds at intervals. The floor is dark metal. There are other cells, and he winces wondering who else could be trapped here.
Where are they doing? Why has she taken him from his cell? Could it… he hardly dares to hope it, but could she be breaking him out? She doesn’t like her father, she doesn’t like that he is locked up… this could be it. He could escape.
They stop at a big metal door. Vanessa gestures for another Normbot to go get something. It leaves. Milo tries his best not to wriggle, wondering what on earth is going on. Vanessa is quiet, folding her arms and leaning against the wall waiting.
The Normbot returns, pushing something in front of it. A big metal box, with wheels. It has dials and buttons and other technology on it, and what looks like a gun or a cannon on one side. On the other side is a door.
Vanessa nods at the Normbot, who unceremoniously drops Milo. He lands roughly, then looks up at Vanessa. She is opening the door of the little box. He has a really bad feeling, but he has to stay positive. “What’s going on?”
“Remember what I told you about my dad weaponising Murphy’s Law?” She asks, and dread grows in his stomach. “This is the Murphy-Inator.” Milo gulps. That thing looks intimidating.
“Am I supposed to go inside of that?” He asks. His palms feel oddly sweaty.
“Yeah.” Vanessa says, wheeling it a bit closer. “Don’t worry, it’s harmless. To you.”
“But what does it do?” He asks nervously.
“You go in, and I can fire it at wherever I need to cause disaster.” She explains briefly.
Oh, this sounds bad. Really, really bad. People are going to get hurt if he allows his condition to be weaponised like this, and he can’t let that happen. And more selfishly, he just really doesn’t want to go in there. That thing looks really scary. “Do I have to go in?”
“Yeah. It won’t be so bad.” Vanessa promises. She looks as kind as ever, but this time it just rubs. She may be kind, but she’s forcing him to do this.
“I don’t want to.” Milo says, a spark of defiance making him glare up at her. “I don’t want anyone in the resistance to get hurt because of me. I won’t go in.”
Vanessa sighs. “I was worried you’d say that.” She mutters. Then she bends down and grabs his arm.
This touch isn’t gentle and comforting like before. It is tight and cold as she yanks him up. He struggles, fighting against her. He tries to pull away. If he could just get away, if he could just run…
With one harsh movement, he is shoved into the little box. He squeaks and tries to move out, but the door is slammed shut. And then he hears the awful, sickening click of a lock. He shoves against the door. It doesn’t move. He’s trapped. He’s stuck.
The box is cramped. He has no choice but to sit- standing isn’t an option, and neither is lying down. He isn’t quite touching the sides or top, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t really claustrophobic and uncomfortable. “Vanessa?”
He can’t hear it she replies or not. And then the box starts moving.
———
As soon as the prisoner is safely locked in the weapon, Vanessa drops her act like a stone. The Normbot opens the door and she starts pushing her weapon outside, a cold glint in her eye.
Her phone rings and she picks up. “Dad? Yes, I’m fine. No of course he didn’t- dad, he’s like ten, of course I’m- dad, stop treating me like a kid! I’ve got this! Wha- yes, I know. Love you too. Bye.” She rolls her eyes as she puts her phone back into her pocket.
“Of course I can handle a little kid. All I have to do is be a little nice to him and he’s putty in my hands.” She snorts. A pang of guilt hits her, but she shoves it down. She’s evil, after all. She doesn’t need to care about some brat.
She rolls the weapon onto the balcony, and carefully moves the weapon into position. The kid has talked a few times- said her name, asked to be let out, asked what is going to happen. She ignores him. No point responding, he won’t hear. He is frightened, obviously, and trying to escape. She can feel him shoving at the door. It won’t open.
She presses the on button and the weapon begins to buzz. Very lightly, at first. She hears a squeak of surprise. “Vanessa? What’s going on?” She ignores him, slowly moving the dial up, as per her father’s instructions.
Now the box is vibrating more, and the boy yelps. “Ow, that- ow! Vanessa, it kinda hurts.” He says. So innocent, expecting her to look after him. She hesitates for a moment, hand hovering over the dial.
She is Vanessa Doofensmirtz, right hand of Emperor Doofensmirtz. She will crush the resistance that threatens her father’s reign, and she won’t let some little kid and his blubbering stop her from doing that. She narrows her eyes, steels her resolve, and turns the dial right up.
The box is vibrating more and more, and inside the boy is getting more distressed. “Vanessa, it hurts! Nes-“
She may be evil, but hearing him scream still makes her feel guilty. She tunes it out, reminding herself that it means that the weapon is nearly charged. She watches the meter closely… there. She presses the button.
A beam of light shoots into the distance. She sees it hit the building, just as planned. A grin spreads over her face as she sits on the now lightly buzzing, warm weapon. Everything went just as planned.
The noises inside the box are whimpers now, pained little cries that don’t quite reach through her armour to her heart. He’s fine, completely unharmed. Oh, it hurt, was probably utterly torturous. But considering what his fate would’ve been if he hadn’t been needed for this project, he really should count himself lucky. He would be dead like this parents. Or locked up in a much worse cell to be re-educated.
She pushes the box back to the cell, readying herself for the act. It’s tiring, but she knows that a little effort now is going to make this project a lot easier.
———
The vibrating had been fine, uncomfortable but not bad. And then it started to hurt, crackling like electricity, burning like fire. He had tried to move, tried to get help, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked. He had no choice but to sit there in agony, tears rolling down his face, screaming and begging for help that never came.
As the box is moved again, he trembles roughly and wipes his face with shaking hands. What are they going to do now? Where are they taking him? The pain lingers, creating goosebumps on his arms as he hugs himself and waits in fear.
Then the door opens. “Milo? You alive in there, kid?”
“Vanessa?” Milo tries to move out of the box, but he feels limp, like jelly. His arms shake when he tries to pull himself through, and everything hurts so badly that he quickly gives up and goes properly limp. Vanessa takes pity on him and takes hold of one of the straps of his Dooferalls to gently help him out. He murmurs a thank you as he curls up on the floor, turning his head to look at the weapon.
Even looking at it makes his heart beat faster. Vanessa bends down to offer him her hand and he panics, shuffling backwards as much as he can in his condition. “I said that it hurt, why didn’t you let me out? Why did you put me in there?!” He asks, voice getting higher with the upset. He thought Vanessa was nice, but clearly not. She must be just like her father, cruel and horrible.
Vanessa sighs, crouching down in front for him. His back hits the bed and he winces. “Milo, I’m sorry. I had no choice.” She says. “I’m helping you as much as I can, by visiting you, and limiting how much we use the weapon. But I can’t completely stop it, and I can’t save you. So I need you to behave and do what I say, no matter what, because that’s the only way I can protect you. Do you understand?”
She reaches out to touch his knee. He winces, but the gentle touch is nice, especially when he is in so much pain. He hesitates, then nods.
“Good. And Milo, you can’t try to escape like you did this time. I can make an exception this once, but if you misbehave like that again I won’t have a choice. And the people they’ll send to punish you will be seriously cruel, they’ll hurt you much worse than that weapon did. So can you please be good?” She asks. He nods, and she sighs with relief. “Thank you, kid. I need to go now, but I’ll be back soon.”
Milo wants to jump up, wants to beg her not to leave him. He is frightened and shaken and hurting, he doesn’t want to be alone. But he doesn’t know if that would count as misbehaviour, and he doesn’t want to find out. He nods. “Bye, Nessa.”
Just before she shuts the door, he adds, “Thank you.”
———
Vanessa smiles coldly. Easy. She thinks as she pushes the box down the corridor. Can’t leave it in there, wouldn’t want it getting damaged. “See, dad? I can more than handle that kid.”