Milo Murphy's Law of Love

Sleep, Snitch, Steal, Repeat

Yay! Next part is up! Hope it's worth the wait!

Milo jolted awake at the pained groan of his name. He immediately turned around and reached out a hand to cup your bruised cheek. He stared at your face, its features contorted in distress and, what looked like, pain.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n), wake up. You're having a nightmare." Milo said softly, gripping your shoulders and gently shaking you. That seemed to make things worse as you grunted, then cried out in pain. Milo froze, his eyes going wide.

"Milo! Stop!" You yelled, your voice cracking and straining. Milo felt his blood run cold. Here you were having a terrible nightmare, and Milo seemed to be the one doing the tormenting. "A-ah! No! Please!" You cried out. Your arms flailed, grasping his arm, and the side of the bed as tightly as your weak, bruised fingers could. Milo barely registered your nails cutting into his forearm, his mind working through the possibilities of what he could be doing to you to make you so distressed.

"(Y/n), wake up." Milo muttered. His tone was less caring and more worried. Milo tried to grab your arms, but you cried out when he touched you. You began thrashing on the bed, your legs and arms flailing in the air, as though trying to fight something or someone off. Milo couldn't stop himself from picturing him pinning you down and hurting you, in a way that you would have to thrash in an effort to get away.

"Please! Stop! Nooooo!" You yelled, your voice getting louder and cracking harshly. Milo flinched at the break, and quickly jumped off the bed and away from you. Your back arched painfully, your ribs popping at the jut movement. Milo covered his ears and ducked his head between his legs. Milo felt tears pricking at his eyes as he pressed his hands harder to his ears. He could hear you crying out for him to stop, don't do that, get away. Milo was overcome with fear and frustration.

Suddenly, you jolted up, your body cracking as it shot up off the bed. Your eyes shot open as you let out a blood curdling scream. Milo heard another voice mingling with yours, and hadn't even realized it was his own till he felt his throat go raw. Suddenly, your voices both caught off. Milo looked up to see you staring around the room, your eyes half closed, seemingly in a daze.

Your eyes drifted slowly to Milo. You let out a small sigh, then gently laid back down. You made a gasping noise, then gulped.

"Milo..." You said, your voice hoarse. Milo stood up slowly, but made no move to approach you. "Can you get me... Some water...?" You asked slowly, your words slurred slightly with sleep.

"(Y/n)...? What were you just... What were you just dreaming about?" Milo asked hesitantly. Your eyes glanced over to him, then stared up at the ceiling.

"Milo. I really don't want to talk about it right now." You said, your voice slightly harsh. The thirteen year old nodded hesitantly then grabbed a glass and filled it with water. The suspense of what you had been dreaming about was killing him. He wanted to know so badly what had gotten you so worked up, but he knew the feeling of not wanting to recount such awful things. He knew how hard it was to try to forget something everyone else was so desperate to know.

"Can you write it down?" Milo asked quietly.

"Why?" You asked, gulping down the clear liquid.

"So that when your ready to tell me, you won't leave out any of the details." Milo mumbled. He wanted to know everything, every second of that dream. He wasn't going to let this one go. He needed to know what you had seen that had made you so... Afraid of him. Milo needed to change this thought. He wanted everything for you, but he never wanted to scare you so badly.

"Okay. But you're gonna have to leave." You said after a while. Milo looked up at you in confusion. You laughed, a joyous sound, but rough and scratchy in your throat. You coughed dryly then shook you head smiling. "My journal, ya silly. It's in my bag, back at my house." Milo looked at you in shock.

"You want me to go into your house to get you a journal?" Milo asked in disbelief. The fact that you trusted him so much was exhilarating.

"Yeah. Now, it's in my closet. It'll be to the right. It's the Deadpool one, with two katanas sticking out of it, and this symbol." You said, scribbling Deadpool's belt buckle onto a napkin and handed it to Milo. Milo took it curiously and stared at the piece of tissue for a moment. "Oh! And can you grab me a blanket off of my bed? I don't know about you, but I'm freezing in these hospital sheets!" You cried out jokingly. Milo chuckled, then nodded.

You smiled gently at him. "Thanks, Milo." You said, your voice soft and tender. Milo felt his face flush as he nodded again, threw a small peace sign, then walked out the door and towards the exit.

Milo walked up to your house slowly, and almost turned right around. Your house was so nice, painted a clean white and tan. It had huge windows and tall ceilings. Milo had never seen a house so beautiful, but this house had probably never been put up against a kid as disastrous as him. He didn't want to go in and leave the house a mess. Milo bit his lip as he contemplated how disappointed you'd be. But, disappointment was worth keeping the house. But what if... Milo's head shot up.

"What if she forgets the dream."

That was all the push Milo needed to jiggle your window loose, slip through, and make his way through your room. Only a few steps in, Milo tripped and fell into something soft. Milo groaned, lifting his head. He couldn't see anything, but he wanted to know what he had fallen on. He tugged the soft item closer. It felt almost sheer. Milo still couldn't see any better. He tucked the item into his backpack, then continued his trek through your room. He stumbled to your door, then clicked on the light. Your room was bathed in a small gentle glow. Next to the light switch, there was a brightness slider. It was below half way, and a few lava lamps and Christmas lights were scattered across your desk, drawer, and walls. Your bed was a large canopy bed, deep blue curtains surrounding it, the ties in them making them ripple and bend almost like water.

Your bed was covered in a navy blue blanket decorated with different colored cats all across it.  At the end of your bed, you what looked like over 10 more blankets folded up and straightened. Milo grabbed the top blanket, a full body image of you and your best friends from your home town. It looked like a Polaroid image on a black background with the caption below it, 'Don't have too much fun with out us! ~The Gang!~'.You had an abundance of pillows, practically overflowing your bed. Your bed and floor were littered with stuffed animals and clothes. Milo reached back into his backpack to retrieve the item he had fallen on. He pulled it into sight, and when he got a good look at it, his eyes widened and his cheeks flushed a deep red.

Clutched in his hands was a blood red lace thong. It felt soft and inviting, and suggestive. Milo dropped the panties quickly, bringing his hands to his face. The second his fingers came close to his nose, a whole new sent of you filled his nostrils. It smelt fruity, sweaty. Milo coughed, his face blushing a deeper shade of red. He quickly tugged his hands from his face, and stumbled to you closet, snagging the backpack. He tried to ignore all the pairs of panties and sexy lingerie you had lying around the room. From lace bras, to lace panties, to thongs, to items Milo didn't even want to think about where they went and why, your room was littered with them. Milo spared a glance at the red lace he had clutched in his hands moments before. Milo sighed frustratingly, then snatched the piece of clothing, tucking it into his backpack.

Milo quickly snapped the light switch down and dashed back to your window. Milo glanced back at your room, then quickly left, closing your window quietly. He tugged his backpack on tighter. He gripped your backpack tighter in his hand, then dashed off towards the hospital, where you were lifting your gown to stare at all the crisscrossing pink scars, and deep blueish purple bruises.

Now he knew, he was in deep.