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Milo rests his head against the bars of his cage. His eyes are screwed shut, a fruitless attempt to block out the bright lights. His knees are drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them.
Tears stain his closed eyes, his face a blotchy red. He is exhausted, but sleep won’t come. He yawns, curling up tighter. He could put his blanket over his face, but it smells bad.
He has been finding that he cares less about the smell now, though. So he reached for the blanket and drapes it over his head. It is thin, so it doesn’t block out much light, but it blocks out enough. He closes his eyes again and tries to sleep.
He is woken by a thud. He pulls the blanket off of his face to see that one of the doors has broken. He doesn’t bother thinking about moving. Every other airlock is secure, and the cage still blocks his path. And by now, he knows enough for the idea of the punishment to paralyse him.
After a while, two keepers come through the airlock. One of them is Cruel. Milo gulps.
“Put that blanket down.” Cruel snaps. He drops it like a hot coal. “You really thought that you could try to escape? How stupid are you?”
“I… I didn’t. It’s just Murphy’s Law, just an acci-“
Cruel kicks the cage. The bars vibrate, and Milo winces. He shrinks backwards, wrapping his arms around himself. Shuffling into the very back corner, he gets as far away from that furious man as possible. Even covered in layers of protective gear, Cruel’s anger is visible. It’s palpable. It’s terrifying.
“I hate that word! ‘Accident’, ‘accident’, you’re always whining on and on about fucking accidents.” He roars. “Well you know what, jinx? I can cause accidents too. Out. Now.”
He opens the cage door with a slam. Milo shudders, staying frozen in his pathetic excuse for a hiding spot. He wishes that he could melt into the bars and disappear. “Out! Are you deaf? Are you stupid?! Out!”
Milo doesn’t want to leave his cage. He hated being thrown in here, but now it feels like the only safe place in the world. He knows that leaving will hurt. He doesn’t want it to hurt.
But he quietly crawls out of the cage, curling up on the floor. He covers his face with his hands, and holds his breath. This is gonna hurt. His bruises are still aching from his last punishment.
“No, you know what? Up.” Cruel says.
Milo blinks, looking up at him. The keeper towers over his small body, and he flinches away. “Do I need to clean out your ears? Get up, right now!”
So Milo scrambles to his feet, wrapping his arms around himself, bowing his head. He feels awkward, uncomfortable. He shuffles his feet, looking up at the keepers who tower over him even when he stands. He is so small, and they are so big.
“Arms out by your side.” Cruel orders. Milo hurries to follow instructions, desperately hoping for a reprieve that he knows won’t come. “Stay still, exactly like that, or you’ll get double.”
Double what? Milo stays still, holding his breath.
He releases his breath with a gasp of pain when the baton hits his back for the first time. And then another, and he cries out. “Baby!” Cruel taunts, hitting him again. He yelps. “You’re such a pathetic baby! You hurt people all the time, but you can’t handle any pain yourself? Stay still!”
It’s the most painful punishment that he has ever received. He whimpers and yelps with each stroke of the baton, a tight, squeezing hand on his arm keeping him still. Another stroke. Another. He is in agony, his back is on fire.
Another, another, another.
Another, another, another, another.
And then he is shoved to the ground. “Stop crying. You make me sick.” Cruel snaps. Milo presses his palms into his eyes, tries as hard as he can to stem the tears. But his back is burning, his back is screaming out for help. And his head is swimming, fuzzy and unclear.
A sob falls from his throat. “Mommy… daddy…” He cries. “Please help…”
He wants a hug, he wants comfort. Instead he gets a kick directly to his already sore back, and a barked laugh. “You want mommy and daddy? Do you want your mommy and daddy?” Cruel asks, his tone equal parts amused and dangerous.
Milo whimpers. “I said, do you want your mommy and daddy?” Cruel repeats, his tone even angrier.
“Yeah.” Milo whispers, his voice breaking. “I want mommy and daddy.” He wants them so badly, an ache worse than his injured back. He just wants them to hold him, to comfort him, to promise that it will be alright. To protect him from Cruel.
“Well, you won’t get them.” Cruel says matter-of-factly. “Never, ever, ever again. You’re never gonna see your mommy or daddy again. You’re a monster, and monsters don’t get mommies or daddies. Little kids get mommies and daddies, they get toys and comfort and love. Monsters get keepers, and monsters get fair punishments for how bad they are.”
Milo stares into space, tears rolling down his face. When Cruel doesn’t get the response that he wanted, he bends down to yell right in Milo’s ear. “Do you get it? Do you understand that?” He yells. Milo winces away from the loud noise, but isn’t stupid enough to try to move away. “Mommy and daddy aren’t coming! You’re never going to see them again!”
With that, Milo breaks down into floods of tears. He sobs uncontrollably, his body wracked by them. “Oh, shut up.” Cruel snaps. “And now I have to punish you more for whining. Why do you always do this?”
I want mommy and daddy.
———
Melissa’s polo shirt scratches against her body. She hates it. She hates the bright red colour, which she used to love. She hates the logo. She hates that stupid accolade.
Intern of the Month.
The shirt feels painful to wear. She wants nothing more than to tear it off of her body, and possibly feed it to the land sharks.
But wearing it is necessary for now. She thinks of it as a disguise.
She follows Brick and Savannah into sector 005. Zack squeezes her hand, simultaneously a comfort and a reminder to be careful.
They enter the sector. Milo is curled up in his cage, his eyes shut, his blanket draped loosely over his body. He is curled up tightly, he looks so small.
The keepers approach the cage. “Jinx.” Savannah says. Melissa bristles. “Jinx, up.”
Milo stirs, but slowly. “Huh… mhm?”
“It’s sick.” Brick realises immediately.
“… ‘ick?” Milo mumbles, blinking rapidly. He pulls his blanket up to his face, using it to wipe his nose. His face is flushed red, his eyes are glassy. His reactions are slow, his expression dazed.
Savannah opens the cage, and after a moment nods to Melissa. So Melissa is able to help him out of the cage, and justify holding him as a restraint. She feels him leaning into the touch. She feels how hot and dry his skin is. “Definitely sick.” She murmurs, keeping her voice low for Milo’s sake. “Probably an infection.” Given that they keep him in fucking filth.
She carefully wipes Milo’s hair away from his face. “Does h… how do we handle this situation?” She asks, trying to avoid being forced to call him it or a dehumanising nickname as far as possible.
“We’ll call the med team.” Brick says. “You two keep an eye on it’s condition. And for gods sake do not let it vomit on you, you have to be quarantined and it’s a whole mess.”
She isn’t alone with Milo, she can never be. There are always eyes. But she can at least whisper comforting words as she holds him, pretending that her gentle hug is a restraining hold. Restraining him is technically unnecessary, he is far too weak and ill to move, never mind run. But they always insist on restraining him anyway.
Milo is clearly entirely out of it. His head flops against her shoulder, his eyes stay half open and stare into space. “Poor guy.” Zack murmurs.
Melissa strokes back a sweaty lock of hair. “You’ll be ok, buddy. You’ll be ok, I promise.” She wonders how awful and painful and dehumanising the process of giving him antibiotics will be. She wonders how much he will suffer.
Milo shifts a little, stirring against her. She watches as he blinks, she can practically hear the cogs in his brain turning as he tries to process the situation.
“Hur’s… col’. ‘m col’.” He complains, snuggling closer to her.
“It’s ok.” She whispers. God, she wants to wrap him in a proper hug. She wants to cover him with blankets and comfort him properly. “You’ll be ok.”
“No’… no’ like. Want mom. Want dad.”
Her heart shatters. “Soon. I’ll get you to them soon, I promise.” She whispers.
“Dad!” Milo cries out, clearly utterly delirious. Clearly not knowing where he is, or what is going on. “Mom! I wan’… need… please. Want mommy. Want daddy.”
Melissa is going to cry. She is going to break down sobbing in his cell. “They’re not here, Milo, I’m sorry. But I swear I’ll get you to them soon.”
“Please…” He manages, and then throws up on her. She rubs his back and holds him.
When Brick and Savannah arrive with the medical team, she is immediately grabbed and yanked away from him. “Sorry, sweetheart, you’re in quarantine for a few days. Can’t be releasing any gross jinx viruses in Danville.” One of them says, steering her out of the room. “Don’t worry, you’re going to be fine. And hey, no work for a few days, so that’s good.”
She wants to scream and fight, but she allows herself to be steered away. She looks back as she goes, watching Milo be surrounded by people in layers upon layers of protective clothing. Watching as he curls up tightly and cowers. I’ll get you to your parents soon, Milo. I promise.