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“They are,” Milo agreed as he bobbed his head. “However, notice we took that route coming back from the office today to avoid any suspicious eyes from trying to trail us?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“I sensed a hint of it when we were passing by,” he revealed. “The weaker our fae magic becomes, the more our bodies begin to sense where these replenishing lagoons are located. I’m almost on empty so it’s far easier to feel its presence, even though we simply passed by the property using the underground tunnels.”
“What happens when you completely run out of magic, Milo?” I was concerned about him, and he could see from my unsatisfied expression that it bothered me.
“Basically, it’s like being a human,” he admitted but didn’t seem very worried about it. “Other fae don’t really like feeling so mundane in nature. We’re raised to feel very empowered, like a ruler. It’s why a lot of fae are rather…”
“Cocky,” Viktor commented.
“Essentially,” Milo said with a sly smirk. “I’m used to feeling like shit since my captivity didn’t give me the luxury of replenishing myself.”
“So you feel horrible?” Neo didn’t seem to like that either from the way his lips dipped.
“Hmmm.” Milo thought about it while he slipped his hands into his pockets. “It kind of feels like when you’re recovering from a cold but can’t just lie down in bed all day? Something like that. I’m good at hiding it and functioning, but it gets a tad bothersome at night. When your body is moving your energy cycles through your veins, but when you sleep you’re in a sort of stasis state. Without any energy circulating and nothing in your reservoir, you're susceptible to sickness and diseases and stuff. The Vile Queen ensures that any fae in her captivity are given about three drops of this liquid that replenishes a bit of our fae energy. Just enough to keep us alive.”
“I thought you said with no magic, you’re just human,” Viktor noted.
“Correct,” he began. “But if she allows that, we’d die from one torture session. She is cynical but doesn’t see any amusement in us dying easily. She loves to see us struggle for every breath we take while our blood oozes onto the grim cement floors and our energy dwindles like it’s holding onto a single thread. The harder we fight to live the more amusement we deliver to her which makes it a mental game for those in captivity. If we give up, not only do we lose our lives, but it’s completely in vain. When we fight to live another day, our agony brings her delight to the point that she’ll laugh and taunt you. Depending on how she feels, maybe we’ll get rewarded a few extra drops so our wounds can heal faster, but again, it’s just a game to her and it’s completely unpredictable.”
None of us spoke as he opened his eyes to look at us.
“I guess I’ve gotten so used to being in this state that makes me feel I’m slipping away that I don’t want to grant myself the redemption I deserve. Not sure if that makes sense.”
“Milo…” I walked over to give him a tight hug.
He chuckled and hugged me back. “Don’t go getting all sad for me, princess,” he stated. “I think I need to work on my mental screws. As much as I don’t want to admit it…those ten months really fucked me over.”
He pulled back and gave me a sad grin. “I don’t know how Loki functions. I’m damaged after ten months, and he was in her possession for ten fucking years.”
“He struggles,” I quietly confessed. “But he’s also so used to projecting his strength that this sudden shift is too much for him.” I wasn’t going to talk about my private conversation with him, but I wanted Milo to know he wasn’t giving up either.
“Distraction and generally keeping busy will help him, but it’s simply a bandage. I wish to help you both, but I genuinely don’t know what else I can do.”
“Would you be up for therapy?” Viktor inquired as his calm eyes met Milo’s. “I hadn’t known about this prior to our awakening, but the Phoenix family provides therapy sessions to those who need it. Technically speaking, because of Willow, we all fall under that umbrella. You’re in our pack with Willow as Beta, so you’ll be offered it, free of charge. It’s one of the best therapists for supernaturals.”
I hadn’t even thought about therapy.
“And Loki?” Neo offered.
“Same would apply to him, only his royal bond with Willow would give him access. Honestly…we all can get therapy now that the assets are offered to us.”
“This may be an odd statement to make,” Milo began as he looked hesitant to say his next words.
“Share, Milo,” Neo urged. “We’re not going to judge you.”
“Well…” He took a deep breath and let it out. “On a racial level, a lot of black families don’t believe in therapy,” he revealed. “It’s not to say black people don’t go to therapy, but it’s like…our culture associates therapy of any kind with you being mentally insane. We know better, and deep down I know therapy would be fucking good for me, but I guess…I’m not sure I want to do it alone. Fae look at themselves as beings of perfection. No flaws will prosper in our lives and even if we have ‘issues’ we’re basically forced to bury them because admission means we’re submitting to our weaknesses, and fae, especially on the royal level, do not carry weakness or display such signs for others to pounce on.”
I was so intrigued by this viewpoint, and it seemed the others were as well. Viktor and I hadn’t dealt with such issues, let alone needed to think about how therapy or restorative measures would be portrayed by others. Anything that aided you physically and mentally was simply a tactic to help you become stronger, to be the best you could be so you never fucked up when you walked upon the battlefield.
Yet, Milo and Neo probably had to look at things from a different perspective because our level of privilege was far different than theirs.
“Some would say I’m being a bit chicken, but the hood was no different. You see so many on drugs, whether they sell them to make some sort of money to put food on the table or are forced by their peers to be in the same predicament as they are. It’s like a cycle you can’t get out of and any mention of ‘help’ in any form is interpreted as weak. I’m sure other cultures deal with it, and mentally, I understand that I don’t need to be in that cycle anymore, but…”
“Sometimes it’s hard to break such cycles,” I whispered as I met his gaze. “You don’t stay in a cycle for shits and giggles. The reality is, the cycle is something you’ve adapted to. It’s comfortable, a place that even though it may be toxic or bring harm to you, it’s still what you’ll consider safe.”
I knew it all too well after the years being tortured in the hollows of that dungeon cell with Onyx. Even though it was toxic and the pain was sometimes unbearable, we needed the agony, the daily ritual of pain. It had become our routine, and it brought us a level of safety that was obviously sick but kept us functioning.
