Archive of Our Own ^beta

Something he'd seen in the database of the white Sphere had told Brackish it was too early to give up on Milton. Yes, technically he was dead, but only just, and the medics quickly hooked Milton up to a very advanced and sophisticated life support system to sustain his body functions while Brackish continued his 'talk' with the Sphere. The technology to save Milton did not reside on this planet and it would take longer to build it than to transport Milton to the rebel world.

A transport ship from the allied races was already on its way, moving slower than the ship holding the White Sphere, but it would be here soon. Brackish intended to be onboard that ship with Milton when it returned to its homeworld, and no one was going to stop him. He said as much to the new President whose name he had already forgotten, stunned into silence when the President agreed before Brackish could pull out his mental bullet-point list of reasons why he should head the Earth scientists on that 'expedition'.

"You've been in a coma for twenty years, yet you wake up and within a few hours you know more than most of those who've been working with the hybrid technology for two decades. I think we can spare you, Doctor Okun, for the greater good of the planet."

"Is that a compliment?" Milton would know but he wasn't there so Brackish had to direct that to Levinson.

"Eh... definitely."

Milton had saved all his belongings, including his clothes, so packing wasn't too much of an effort. He put the scarf back on because who knew how cold it could get on an alien world, and once he had all the preparations in hand he returned to Milton's hospital room. His hospital room apparently because the window ledge was still lined with beautiful orchids.

Milton loved his orchids, and Brackish loved Milton loving his orchids. Brackish loved Milton's knitting too even though he had only the one example, which some people might say was statistically skewed coming from such a small data set, but it was just another statistical anomaly that existed everywhere on the planet. After all, there was only one Milton Isaacs, and Brackish loved him.

Twenty years.

Milton had gotten old... and yes, maybe he had put on a little weight and lost a little hair too, but he was still the most beautiful man in the universe. His best friend. His beloved Milton. He picked up Milton's hand, seeing the additional lines and signs of growing older, comparing it to his own hand and seeing they still matched. Their fingers still entwined perfectly.

He had a thousand and one things he could be doing right now but Milton was top of that list. He always had been despite the way Brackish bossed him around, but that was the way they were together.

"Who's going to remind me to eat if you're not here?" Or sleep, or take a break when my head is threatening to explode.

"It's time, Doctor Okun."

The White Sphere would remain behind on Earth and allow the Earth scientists to interrogate its vast database of knowledge. It wasn't like it was the only one in the entire universe. There was another onboard the transport ship. He had a psychic link to it... to them both. It reminded him of after the battle where they had managed to save the planet with barely a minute to spare before the Harvester ship drilled into the planet's molten core.

He recalled the program equivalent of surprise that the 'primitives' of Earth had managed to take down a Harvester queen, and she was really big and ugly.

Brackish wasn't sure what it said about Humans in general. Primitive and highly aggressive, resourceful and brutal.

It didn't matter because the day the aliens first arrived - was it really twenty years ago? - it appeared the hatred, anger, and resentment between the different races, religions, genders, sexual preferences, and whatever else humans felt a need to fight over all turned in one direction. Upwards. To a new enemy who had come from the stars and wiped over five billion people off the face of the planet within two days as the Harvesters moved from one city to the next, destroying everything in their path.

Perhaps it was because they were primitive that they won. Despite abducting and experimenting on humans for decades, the Harvesters hadn't expected them to steal their ships and infiltrate their code. Hadn't expected humanity to fight back quite so viciously, but as Whitmore had said that first Independence Day, humanity had no intention of going gently into that good night.

The flight to the rebels planet was long and Doctor Abrams became surprisingly good at forcing him to go eat and to stop working at all hours after Brackish dropped where he was standing and spent two days feverish and delirious, believing he was being attacked by giant ants. Instead he spent some of that forced downtime sitting in the incredible medical section beside Milton, learning all about the marvelous technology keeping Milton... well, not dead.

There was still a limit though on how much he could learn before his mind threatened to explode into another nasty headache, and it was while he was hunting around for something to occupy his time that he found Milton's wool and knitting needles.

"It really cannot be that hard," he said, remembering the clacking of needles when he visited his grandmother. She barely looked down, and yet the scarf or sweater would keep on growing longer and longer. He dropped quite a few stitches before he finally got the hang of it. After that it was a race to see if he could finish a gift for Milton before he woke up.

Matching scarves.

Brackish made sure he was there when they finished healing the organs damaged by the laser blasts and woke up Milton. It had taken four months and Brackish had felt almost insane at times, wondering how Milton could have coped with twenty years talking to a vegetable.

"You have the patience of a saint," he said as Milton's bleary eyes worked open and focused solely on him.

Brackish wrapped the scarf around Milton's neck before leaning in and kissing his smiling lips.

END