The Seven Revels

Fire When Ready: Burning The Bridge

Indigo stood over her former friend, gazing down at him with mixed emotions. The pain in her shoulder faded to a dull ache, nothing in comparison to the pain she felt in her chest. This was Milo, after all. She had hoped that it wasn't him... Just someone that looked like him. But there was no mistaking those eyes that were locked on her every movement. Blue, like the sky. Blood dripped from his temple, his lips. His eyes begged her to say something, but she kept silent, just looking at him, this boy she no longer knew.

He wore the uniform, perfectly tailored to fit every inch of him. Blood streaked the white and grey fabric, it was torn in several places. Quill's work, she was sure. For the first time, she was not angry with Quill. Only Milo.

Her rage was a vast ocean, a tsunami of anger rolling toward one point, centering on one thing. Milo. He had shot her. He, the one who had been with her for years, the one who had loved her, and she him, unconditionally, had shot her. Had betrayed her. Had tried to kill her.

She dropped his helmet on the floor, the clattering sound it made tinny and distant. Her friends stood behind him, silently watching, waiting for what she would do. Still, she did not speak. He closed his eyes, opened them again. There were tears there.

He opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and shut it again. He was on his knees, his hands braced on the floor in front of him. They were shaking.

Finally, he spoke.

"Indigo." The word shattered the silence and she could almost feel it crashing down around them. It was deafening. "Please, say something." His voice was quiet.

She stood perfectly still, feeling everything swirling around her. His voice, the silence, the pain, the ship hummed underneath them. Her friends waited, eyes locked on her.

"Please," he said again. "Please stop looking at me like you don't know me." His voice shook. It was hoarse, as though he'd been screaming. She didn't wonder if he had been.

"I don't know you," she whispered, at last breaking her silence. His face fell.

"Indigo... I didn't mean to hurt you."

She stared down at him. His eyes full of tears, his hands shaking, his hair falling across his face the way it always had. Why didn't she recognize him?

"You look like Milo and yet... I know it's not you," she said. "The Milo I know would never hurt me. He promised me, every day. The Milo I know swore he'd always be there for me, no matter what."

"Please, Indigo, let me explain."

"Shut up," she snapped.

He looked down. "We're friends, Indigo. I... I never wanted to hurt you."

"We're not friends," she said. "How could you ever expect us to be friends again? How could I ever be friends with someone I don't trust?"

"Indigo, please..."

"You asked me to trust you, and I did. And now we're here, you wearing that traitor uniform, still acting like you know me."

"I do know you."

"No, you don't!" Indigo said, glaring at him. "It's been a long time since I last saw you, Milo Burgess. The last time I saw you, I still loved you. I still had hope for you. You were still more than my friend, more than my family. But now? I don't even know... I don't know what to do with all this anger that's inside me. I've been trying to pick up these broken pieces for months and when I finally gather them all up again you come along and do all of this." She gestured around the room with her good arm. She watched as Milo's eyes flicked around the room before returning to her.