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A week. A week passes, and Milo can be sure of that because he can actually keep track of time now. Although he isn't very good at it. He sleeps during the day, and is wide awake at night, after years of sleeping whenever he was tired. Or bored.
One evening he wakes up in his bed, after he definitely did not go to sleep there. Melissa says that she found him curled up on the floor behind the couch, sound asleep. And that she isn't mad, no one is angry, but they need to try and get him into a better circadian rhythm. Or at least, stop him from falling asleep wherever he happens to be sitting.
Melissa tries playing board games with him to pass the time. They never actually finish, but he enjoys it. They try card games as well, and games like 'I Spy'. Melissa is almost always around him, stuck to his side like a barnacle. Even when he is awake during the night, whether because he is not tired or because of nightmares, Melissa rolls over into his bed to comfort him and help him sleep.
Milo feels guilty. One morning as they sit on the couch, he speaks up. "Melissa, it's ok if you want to leave me alone for a while. I don't mind."
"If you want some peace, I can leave you alone for a bit." Melissa offers. She must see the disappointment that flits across his face. Must see how little he wants to be alone. "But if you want me to stay, I'll stay."
Milo looks away, making himself smaller. "Sorry. I know I can be annoying." Annoying. Talkative. Sullen. Clingy. Rude. Clumsy. Careless. Uncaring.
"What? No, you're not." Melissa says. "Who told you that?"
"Nessa." Milo mumbles, ashamed. "I tried really hard, she was so nice to me. But I always messed stuff up and upset her. And even when I didn't mess it up, I kept annoying her. I'm not very good at talking, I say stuff that I don't want to say."
There is a funny look in Melissa's eyes as she reaches for his hand. "Milo, no. You're not annoying, and you didn't mess stuff up. You were a child that she was holding prisoner." Thoughts spin around her head. Milo seems convinced that Vanessa was a good person, but Melissa is sure that Vanessa wasn't. She can't imagine the daughter of the emperor being forced into anything, can't imagine her being mistreated. "Milo, she wasn't nice to you. And that's not your fault, it's not because you did anything to deserve it."
"But she was nice! She was so nice, when everyone else was so mean." Melissa's stomach churns. What did this girl do to Milo? "It's not her fault that her dad kept me prisoner, and it would've been so much worse without her there looking after me."
"But she put you in the Murphy Weapon, didn't she?" Melissa presses, suddenly desperate to get through to Milo.
Milo flinches. "Well, yeah." He says. "But that wasn't her fault either. And because she did it, she made it less bad. It would've been worse if she wasn't doing it. She was gentle, and she comforted me afterwards." He shudders, thinking about it. Imagining the electricity crackling through him, the burning that leaves no burns. "Um, Melissa?" He blurts out.
"Yeah?"
"Are you gonna start using the Murphy Weapon soon?" He flinches as he says it. He can't go through it ever again, the phantom feelings of pain making him even more terrified of the real thing. But the Murphy Weapon might help the resistance win.
It's like a punishment. Payback, for you making them lose for all these years. A voice in his head, that sounds a little like Vanessa, tells him. He winces, lowering his head. He hates himself for everything that he has done to the resistance. Despite Melissa's promise that her companions won't hurt him, he can't help but fear them taking their revenge. Using you to make them win is a fair start for an apology.
But Melissa looks horrified. She takes his other hand. "No. No, we are never going to use that. We are never going to do that to you, I swear." She says vehemently. "You are never going to go through that again. And when I get the chance, I'm gonna smash that machine to pieces and burn the blueprints. No one will ever, ever use you like that again, I promise."
Melissa is so vehement. So certain, so fiery. Vanessa's certainty was cold, Melissa's is hot. Melissa is warmer than Vanessa. He tells himself off. Vanessa tried, she tried so hard to help him and comfort him. She just didn't have as much freedom as Melissa does. Milo has always been ungrateful, selfish. Harsh and unsympathetic of Vanessa's struggles.
"Really?" It's such a small word, small and young, as quiet as a mouse. Melissa hugs him, letting him curl up and nestle into her arms. It feels so nice. Melissa hugs him and touches him whenever he wants, and it feels so good. Still overwhelmingly nice, every time.
"Yes. I promise." Melissa rubs his back. He settles into the hug, closing his eyes to soak up the affection. The touch.
After a while, Melissa speaks again. "Hey, do you wanna see your sister tomorrow?"
"Can I?" Milo's eyes shoot open.
"Yeah, we can head down." Melissa looks a little worried, but she smiles at him.
"Is she mad? You said that she's a resistance leader, and I messed up stuff for the resistance." Milo's head drops, shame coursing through him.
"You haven't messed anything up. Nothing that those bastards did was your fault, 'k?" She rubs his arm. "And Sara would never be mad at you. She loves you a lot, like I do."
"Ok." Milo mumbles, sniffling. But he smiles. He does want to see Sara.
———
Milo wakes up the next morning to find everyone else rushing around. "What's going on?" He asks timidly, standing there in a borrowed t-shirt that looks more like a dress on him.
Dakota stops. "We're gonna go visit the other resistance, kiddo. We're just getting ready." He pats Milo on the head. Milo leans closer, feeling disappointed when the touch disappears. And then Dakota dashes off again.
Milo gets changed and then enters the living room. He is handed a bar of something greyish and crunchy, which he eats. And then Melissa puts a hat on his head, and wraps a bit of fabric around his face. "Just so no one can see you." She explains. Milo hadn't thought of that before, but they must be looking for him. Trying to recapture him. He flinches.
Melissa notices, like always. "Don't worry, we won't let them take you."
They leave the apartment and trek down the stairs. And then Milo steps out onto the street. A cool breeze prickles his skin, light dots of rain hit him. He freezes, taking it all in. He goes outside so rarely.
Melissa takes his hand and they set off. Milo clings to her, as unsettled as he is excited. He hasn't been outside in so long. But he is terrified of being caught, recaptured. He knows how terrible the punishment for escaping will be.
They take a long, winding route, avoiding people and cameras and Normbots. And finally, they stop in front of an unassuming door. Melissa knocks, in a strange pattern. Then she speaks into what Milo assumed was just a doorbell. "It's Wildfire and the others."
"Wildfire?" Milo asks. He remembers the resistance names that they made up when they were little, when his parents were resisting. Wildfire was Melissa's name, and his parents and Sara would call her that affectionately.
The door opens. "Wildfire!" Milo recognises this dark haired boy, although the metal arm is new. "I was just saying tha-" And then the dark haired boy's eyes focus on Milo, and widen. "Milo? Milo Murphy?"
"Shh!" Melissa hisses, hitting him. "We'll talk later, let us in!"
The boy does let them in. Once he does, he stares at Milo. "Milo Murphy."
Milo, remembering what you're supposed to do when you meet someone, offers his hand. "Nice to meet you."
He shakes his hand, although he does give him a funny look. "But we already know each other. Y'know, school? And when we used to sneak round to your house."
Milo nods, confused. He doesn't know what he said that was wrong. "You're... Bradley?" He tries. Bradley nods.
"We're here to see Sara." Melissa tells Bradley, who nods again.
"She's been desperate to see him all week. Come on, then. And Milo? Try not to break anything." Annoyance flickers over Bradley's face when the light above them flickers off. "Never mind."
Milo flinches, moving back closer to Melissa. She takes his hand, and uses her free hand to punch Bradley's shoulder. "Hey!"
"Shut up, idiot." She walks Milo past, squeezing his hand reassuringly. "Don't worry about Bradley. He means well, he's just an idiot."
"He didn't like me much." Milo remembers. "When we were little."
"Things have changed a lot." Melissa sighs. "Come on, let's go find Sara."
They walk through a door that Milo didn't even see, and then down a long flight of stairs. The railing breaks and Milo falls, but Melissa catches him before any serious damage can be done. They soon reach the bottom, both in one piece. Melissa pushes open the door.
There are a lot of people. Milo freezes, staring. This looks like some kind of common room, filled with chairs and tables and people. None of them are wearing Dooferalls, and they are talking loudly. But then someone notices him, and silence spreads across in the room in a second.
Every eye is on him. He can't move. He can't talk. He can't breathe.
"Have you lot got nothing better to do?" Melissa barks. Attention is removed from him rather quickly, but he knows that people are still glancing at him. "Useless lumps. Hey, Amanda!"
He recognises her too. She smiles at him, if a bit hesitantly. He doesn't shake her hand or say anything, not wanting to mess up like he did with Bradley. "Hi Milo. Hi Melissa."
"Any idea where Sara is?"
"Her office." Amanda offers. "It was nice seeing you, Milo."
"It was nice seeing you too." He copies, which seems to work because she smiles once more before walking off to join a girl with light brown hair poring over a document.
Milo clings to Melissa as they walk down the corridor. They pass a few more people, who stare until Melissa glowers, and they stop. And then they stop outside a door. Melissa knocks.
"Come in!"
Her voice makes tears spring to his eyes, tears of love and wistfulness and longing. And then the door opens, and he is looking right at her. "Milo?" She exclaims, her voice soft and gentle and so familiar. He nods.
She rushes forward to sweep him into a hug. "Milo!" Her voice is choked with tears. "You're back, you're here..." She buries her face in his hair.
Milo presses his face into her shoulder. "I missed you, I missed you so much." He sobs, clinging to her. "I thought you were dead..."
"No, no, shhh, I'm here, I'm here..." She soothes, rubbing his back. They stand there together, sobbing into each other, clinging tightly.
Finally, Sara pulls back a little, taking hold of his shoulders. "You're so big." She says wetly, wiping her face.
"So are you." The Sara that he remembers is a child, big and impressive to him but still young. But now Sara looks so old, so mature, so much like an adult. He recognises the unbuttoned shirt as his mom's, the jacket as his dad's. This Sara is a leader, an important boss.
Sara cups his face with her hands, similarly to how Vanessa would do it. Or, a memory hits him like a truck, like how his mom would do it. Tears start slipping down his face again as he leans into her touch, into her rough, strong, calloused hands. "I'm so sorry, Milo."
"Why are you sorry?" He asks. "You rescued me."
"I did, but I..." She hesitates, looking at Melissa. Then she just presses her forehead against Milo's forehead. "I love you so much, Milo. You know that, right?"
"Mhm." Milo smiles, even as tears slip down his face. His big sister is here. He has his family back, even if it's only a part of it. He can't imagine what Sara would ever have to feel guilty about. He's the one who should be apologising.
He stiffens when he thinks of it. "I'm sorry." He mumbles. "I'm really sorry, Sara."
Sara combs a hand through his hair. "What for?" She is so soft, so soothing, he doesn't want to ruin it. But he has to. He has to accept the consequences of his actions.
"For the Murphy Weapon. For what I did to the resistance. For hurting people, for..." He trails off, pulling away to hide his face in his hands. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"Whoa, little brother." Her voice, so affectionate, so loving despite what he has done, makes him start crying all over again. "It's not your fault. They did that, not you."
"It is my fault, they used me as a weapon! They used me to hurt people!" Milo sobs, trembling.
"They used you. You haven't done anything, little brother." She takes a hold of his wrists and lowers his hands. "No one at all blames you for what they did. They used you, they hurt you. We don't blame you, so don't blame yourself."
Her eyes are so warm, so loving, that he ends up collapsing against her and sobbing into her stomach. She strokes his hair, calming him down, soothing him with a gentle touch and gentle words. She crouches down, taking him with her, and holds him there until his sobs quiet to hiccups, and then to nothing at all.
Melissa crouches down, waiting until she is certain that Milo is asleep. "He's so guilty." She whispers. "He blames himself, Sara. For what they did to him. And he's convinced that Vanessa Doofenshmirtz was kind to him, but I'm sure that she manipulated him." She spits out that name, venom on her tongue. "He can't cope with Murphy's Law, it frightens him. And he's terrified of upsetting any of us."
Sara sighs. "Baby brother..." She trails, looking down at his damp face, currently peaceful. "He'll recover. He'll be ok."
"I hope so." Melissa sounds unusually young and uncertain, for her. She sounds the young age she is, rather than the older person that she has been forced to become. Sara's heart aches for her. "I really hope so, Sara."
The door squeaks open, and Diogee runs in the crack in the door. He scampers over to Milo and whines, before squeezing onto his lap, curling up there, and licking his face. Melissa scratches behind the dog's ear, her heart aching.