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But with Milo it was different.

They didn’t want to see his worried face. It breaks their heart to see him like that. Brows furrowed, eyes full of pain, lips downturned. All because of them.

They’d be the cause of his sadness.

Sweetheart would do anything to avoid that.

But you can only hide for so long.

Milo came home to find a trail of blood and his mate’s shoes thrown haphazardly at the door. His face paled as he felt his heart drop.

“Sweetheart!?”

He threw his bag on the ground, following the drops of blood to the bathroom. There was blood everywhere, some in the sink, more in the shower, and a pool of it in the bathtub. Even worse, the trail didn’t stop there.

He eventually found them in the bedroom. Or at least, he could sense them there. In the closet. Where they once hid during an anxiety attack.

Milo could hear them stifling their sniffles, followed by a grunt of pain and a wave of magic. They were trying to heal themselves, and judging by the pain they were feeling, they didn’t have much magic left.

“Baby, what happened? Why are you cloaked?”

“Don’t!” Their voice was frantic and shaky. “Don’t look at me. I-I’m not done yet.”

“You’re hurt.” Milo whispered. “Let me help. Please.”

“I’m okay.”

“Sweetheart.”

They hated it - the worry and fear in Milo’s eyes. Sweetheart knew it would only be worse if he saw the full extent of their injuries. A broken bone or two. Open gashes and wounds. Too many to heal.

“I don’t want you to see me.”

Milo winced when he heard them gasp in pain, followed by another wave of magic, one so weak it didn’t even feel like their aura. He reached forward in their direction, but they moved away, avoiding his hand, the boxes in the closet moving to accommodate them. Drawing on their bond, he tried reaching out to them to at least give them a boost of magic, but he was met with a wave of pain. A mirror of what his mate was feeling.

His heart shattered.

He felt so useless, unable to do anything, not even watch.

It felt like the inversion all over again.

Tears of frustration welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Please, baby. Let me help. I can’t just sit here and do nothing while you’re in pain.”

The guilt in his eyes felt like a knife to the heart. Sweetheart was hurting him too.

Wasn’t this what they were trying to avoid?

“I don’t want you to see me hurt.” They tried persuading him. Or maybe themselves.

“I know you’re hurt, Sweetheart. I don’t have to see it to feel it.”

He was met with silence.

“Please.”

They finally decloaked - what was usually a smooth, effortless process becoming more like a glitch as if their magic had been brutally cut off.

Milo saw everything.

Sweetheart would remember that look on his face forever.

He saw them try to hide the worst of their wounds, turning their back to him while cradling their broken arm.

“No, it’s okay.” Milo shushed them gently. “You’re okay.”

“You’re not, though.” Sweetheart whispered under their breath.

“I will be once I help you.”

That seemed to be enough to convince them. It was clear their willpower was fading as well.

He reached out his hand once more, this time noting with relief that they didn’t avoid his touch. Gently cradling their arm, he closed his eyes and focused his magic on the area. With some concentration and a flow of energy, the bones set, and their arm was healed.

Milo was glad he took those lessons from his Ma a while back.

Sweetheart’s gaze was fixed on the floor. They were scared to watch his face, to see those eyes that looked at them with so much love be filled with pain because of them.

“I’m sorry.” A quiet apology left their lips. Not that it would be enough to make up for the hurt or the fear they caused him.

Milo guided their eyes to his with a hand cupped to their cheek.

“Of course you’d be more worried about me than yourself, even if you’re bleeding.” He chuckled lightly.

Sweetheart finally looked up, confused at the change in tone.

“There you are, baby.” Milo smiled. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss on their forehead, now clean with the scratch once there healed.

“Listen to me. I know you don’t want me to worry about you. But I’d rather worry and do something to help than worry and not be able to do anything about it.” He pressed another kiss to their skin, this time to the back of their hand.

“I only hurt when you’re hurting. So let me help you. Don’t hide away from me.” His gaze softened. “Please.”

A new wave of guilt rushed over Sweetheart, but Milo quickly shushed it with a kiss on the lips.

“I love you.”

Milo was smiling again.

Sweetheart nodded, tears spilling down their cheeks in relief.

He gently guided them into his arms, letting them cry into his chest.

when milo and sweetheart first bought their house, the kitchen cabinets were the first thing they planned to fix. there was nothing inherently wrong with them, they were standard gray cabinets with brass handles, they served their purpose. but they were the same style cabinets milo and sweetheart had in their old apartment, and while it seemed like a small thing, this wasn’t an apartment anymore. it was a house. it was their house. they could do and change whatever they wanted. so instead of tackling the overgrown backyard or faulty plumbing in the guest bathroom, they settled for something more manageable, more sentimental to them as their first home project, redoing their kitchen cabinets.

milo, always the man with a plan, already made the list of supplies they’d need for their DIY cabinet renovation. most items on the list were already checked off. they had the paint and the primer and everything they needed to sand and gloss the cabinets. all they needed to do was find the time to go to the hardware store and pick out the new handles. that was the final check mark on their list. after that, they were set to paint their kitchen cabinets the color they wanted with the handles they chose. it was one step closer to making their house truly theirs. 

today was the day they were supposed to get it done. it was a beautiful, hot summer day, both milo and sweetheart were off work and planned to take full advantage of it. they had a relaxing morning, laying in bed longer than they should, playing with aggro longer than they should, bickering over whether to make breakfast or pick something up on the way into town. it was turning out to be a shockingly relaxing weekend.

as sweetheart and milo were getting ready to leave for the hardware store, both their phone’s rang. asher called milo, telling him to come over to david’s for a backyard bbq, one milo asked if david had any idea was happening. asher snickered in response which meant he did not. the department called sweetheart, telling them they needed to come in quickly and that they would be sent thirty minutes out of dahlia to be on scene for an arrest.

it didn’t surprise sweetheart to be called in today, a work life balance with the department was a fictitious thing. what did surprise them was milo’s reaction. when they fought, which was pretty rare, it could be traced back to one of two things; money or the department. he was sick of the department taking advantage of sweetheart’s good nature and passion for their job. sometimes, this frustration felt more directed at sweetheart than at the department. sweetheart knew it, they were basically a doormat for their supervisors and no more than a number to the department, but that didn't stop it from stinging when milo would point it out. much to his disdain, sweetheart changed into their uniform. they promised when this was over they’d get the cabinet handles and continue on with their weekend as planned. but milo was so fed up with everything he just huffed and grabbed his keys, muttering strings of “whatever's” and “it’s fine”. in the car on the way to the scene, sweetheart sent milo a stream of texts apologizing for ruining their weekend plans and promising to make it up to him somehow. they didn’t receive a response but saw he read the messages.

sweetheart wondered what would happen if they didn’t come in today. if they’d listened to milo and just told the department no. it was their weekend, one they wanted to spend with their partner and their friends. but because sweetheart couldn’t say no, they were instead here. alone on the ground in the woods, an hour from home, in a pool of their own blood, thinking about cabinets.

what sweetheart hated more than fighting with milo was when they left fights unresolved. when fights went unresolved, sweetheart would spend every second of every hour replaying it in their mind. they would over analyze every word, every expression, every little moment. it was just how their brain worked. going into this job was no different. their attention was on one thing and one thing only, even though they were briefed on the drive over about the case details and what to expect, its fair to say their mind was just somewhere else.

and while they were replaying milo walking out of the house as they were walking further into the woods to the location the department told them to go, all they could think of was where he was going. what he was feeling. they didn’t hear the footsteps creeping behind them. they didn’t hear the rustle of clothes. they didn’t hear the gun cock. they missed all the signs and didn’t cloak. and in the blink of an eye, they were on the ground. it all happened so fast. 

too stunned to speak, sweetheart felt their body go into overdrive. their stealth nature tried to hide them but it was too late. a puddle was growing underneath them. they didn’t scream. they were going into shock, and all they could do was think of the stupid cabinets. all they could do was think of milo, angry at them for taking this call. to think of milo, wherever he was. to think of milo, going back to an empty house. and how he’d probably be going back to an empty house everyday after today.

He’s not just a number — he’s a human with a dream, and he wants to live with dignity." ✊

I’m his brother, and today I’m sharing this video where Mohammed talks about our pain, our life, and the dream he refuses to give up — even in the middle of war.

If his voice reaches your heart, please help him continue his journey. ❤️

Donation link to support Mohammed and our family:

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who stood with us, donated, or even shared our story.

Hey guys, what if Milo has to face his lover turning into his dad.

Hey guys, sorry.