Post Chapter Three - Milo/Mal (Patreon)

A/N: This will be post the secret scene in Chapter Three. If you have not gotten it on a romanced Milo route, I would go find it first.

The streets opened up into wide swaths of broken pavement as both Milo and Mal burst from the tavern. It was a little out of the way spot that was located inside a storm drain and that ran in an overgrown grass river out into the streets. Crumbling walls and flickering candles made a makeshift path back to the the functioning districts.

“Artisan Alley, yeah?” Milo was pushing his sweaty hair from his face, trying to sober up. The taste of whisky was still heavy on his lips. “Why they decided to live there is beyond me.”

“Better than an abandoned distillery,” Malcolm was saying. The music faded from the bar behind them.  There was an eeriness to the market that lived between the pockets of life littered through the realm. It was unnatural. The market was dying in slow and gasping breaths but no one wanted to do anything about it. “You actually going to tell Lamplight what you did?” Malcolm asked as they turned a corner. The grimoire. Lucinda. All of the ins and outs of a plan that had been formed with lies told for generations.

Milo side eyed him. “No, Mal. I’m just gonna go there and stare at them for a bit. Drool on myself and then ask them to forgive me for using them for some nefarious plot. Of course I’m going to tell them what’s going on.”

“Never know with you.” They were plunged into darkness, the paper moon from above floating downwards in flaky little peels. It littered the ground like snow.  

“You know, I got a bone to pick with you,” Milo started, clearly still feeling the effects of alcohol. “I get what I did. I really do. But you need to back off.”

“Back off?” Malcolm’s brows rose as they both fell in line next to each other.

“We were together before you decided to rise from the dead.” Milo stumbled over his own feet, grasping onto Malcolm’s arm for a moment to steady himself.  “We had something going on.”

Malcolm snorted. “Afraid I’m moving in on your territory, Button?”

“You’re not? With all the ‘Lamplights’ you toss their way? Please. You reek of desperation. Go take a trip to the Pleasure District like everyone else, Mal, and leave them alone.”

There was a small smile twitching at the corner of Malcolm’s lips. It infuriated Milo the more it seemed to grow. Like this was all a game for Malcolm. “It’s funny that you think you get a say in any of that,” Malcolm said, clearly amused.

“We were together for fucking months!”

“And you thought they were going to be a rock,” Malcolm replied bluntly.. “So, you’ll excuse me if I don’t take your ‘relationship’ seriously.”

The green lights that bordered Artisan Alley were in the distance. A strange and sickly beacon at the edge of the market. 

“Admit it,” Milo sneered.  “Admit that you like Lamplight.” He spat the nickname mockingly. 

Turning, Malcolm began to walk backwards, nonchalantly meeting Milo’s eyes.  “I do,” he said without hesitation. 

It wasn’t as if it came as a surprise. Milo knew Malcolm well enough to know when he was developing a crush. He had hoped that Mal might try to hide it though. At least a little bit.  “You trying to take them from me?”

Malcolm’s laughter rang out loud and clear through the empty streets. “What’s there to take, Milo? You ignored them for months. You sat and wept by their grave and then ghosted them the second they came back. A bad habit you are picking up, by the way. Then, you saw them again and what? Cowered in a corner? Turned your sad puppy eyes on them? Collapsed into yourself because you did something wrong, never once trying to adequately apologize or have a raw conversation with them.”

“Fuck you,” Milo growled, fists clenching at his side.

“Ah, the unintelligent insult for the masses. The one said when you have nothing concrete to say.”  Malcolm turned, shaking his head. “You love them? Start acting like it.”

Malcolm was getting ahead of him now. His movements confident and quick. Milo had always hated that about him. The way he just oozed this sort of vivacity during an argument. Like he somehow had the superior high ground. “And what about you?” he called out. “You going to start acting like it too? This a competition?”

“I’m already acting like it, Milo. Have for a long time. Catch up.”

Artisan Alley opened up before them. Malcolm pretended not to notice the way Milo was cursing the rest of the way there and if he heard any of Milo’s petty jabs, he ignored them. It served to work Milo up even further and by the time they had reached the apartment at the end of the alley, Milo was gearing up for a full on rage.

Except, the window was open. The apartment was dark. And the empty window box looked as if it had been yanked out.

Malcolm immediately climbed in, calling for Lamplight but there was no answer. The apartment remained empty and cold with little sign of life.

When he crawled back out, Milo was already smoking. “Where are they?” he mumbled around the cigarette.

“I don’t know.”

Milo nodded, his foot tapping incessantly as he sucked a long pull of smoke into his lungs. “We need to find them.” It was said with the kind of urgency that said Milo was about two bad decisions away from doing something really stupid.

“Milo, calm down, alright? I’m sure they just went out for a walk.”

“Right,” he said with a nod. “Of course. A walk.” 

Malcolm spotted it though. The way Milo’s fingers twitched. The way he was already reaching for another cigarette. Pulling the lit one from his mouth, Malcolm stamped it out beneath his feet.

“Hey,” Malcolm said, grabbing Milo’s wrist before he could grab another one. “We’ll find them, okay? Lamplight isn’t lost. Just exploring.”

“Exploring.” Milo swallowed thickly. “As an incorporeal being, in a market that they can’t control, with a witch out there, potentially looking to end their existence. Fuck. Yeah. We should just convince ourselves that this is fine. Wonder if that grave is opening back up again? Maybe we should skip on down there and pay it a little visit.”

When Milo went to shove by him, Malcolm pushed him back against the wall. There was little force behind it but Milo had always taken direction well.  Milo stood there, as if pinned, his breathing coming in uncontrollable gasps.

Malcolm planted a hand on either side of his head, trapping him if he decided to run. “Why did you fall in love with them?” he asked.

“What the hell? Why are you asking me this?”

“Because you are panicking. And I’m bringing you back to the things that matter. Why did you fall in love with Lamplight?”

Milo’s eyes fluttered. Two high points of heat pricked his cheeks as he scratched idly at his jeans.  “I– I don’t know.”

“You do. Say it. Say it so they can hear you.”

“They can’t fucking hear me, Mal! The lights are dead!”

Malcolm pressed himself closer, forcing the issue. “Say it,” he demanded.

Milo closed his eyes. Slowly, he conjured the Night Market into his mind. The rock that he was supposed to hold in his hand and instead, the person that had unknowingly brought Milo back to a life that he was learning to love once again.

“They were the first person I didn’t feel empty around.” Milo let out one long line of breath, uttering the confession as if it pained him to admit. “It was a game in the beginning. I didn’t believe any of it was true.  And then one day, I realized that when I laughed, it wasn’t hollow. When I danced, it was because I wanted to.  I didn’t want to forget who I was with them. Instead, I wanted to find out who I could be. I wanted to sing, and play in the rain. To lay down and enjoy their body.” He swallowed. “I wanted to make them happy and was excited to do it.”

Something unraveled within Milo. A strange sort of tension that had been winding up as time went on. When he cracked open his eyes he expected to see mockery on Malcolm’s face. Instead, there was only a soft expression of understanding.

“Your turn,” Milo croaked out.

Malcolm smiled. “They listened without judgment. I could say whatever I wanted without feeling like I was wrong. Like I was lesser.  I felt seen and heard and that was before they were even walking these streets.”

Milo banged his head back against the wall, his knees knocking against Malcolm’s.  “Great, we’ve both been sappy about the same person. Now what?”

Behind them, someone cleared their throat. It was Herald.

“I’m assuming you two haven’t heard?” 

Both Milo and Malcolm turned to him. “Heard what?” Malcolm asked. He reached out and took Milo’s hand, bracing himself for the worst.