It had all been a blur, everything around him was nothing but noise accompanied by the sounds of people screaming, guns shooting, dirt flying in the air from strayed bullets. And it all was too much for the advisor as he merely stood in the field, with his gun held tightly in his hand; aimed forward straight at a prison group member.
Milton never wanted anything to do with this fight. But here he was standing his ground, shooting people he had met, some he didn't. But it didn't change that inside he felt the guilt rise for such unneeded violence.
But why was he doing it? It was simple; Philip, the Governor. The man he had continuously thrown himself in front of to protect and serve, for no other reason than the fact he loved him. You could say it was just a friendship, platonic, or lovers. It didn't change the way he defended Philip with everything he had.
Milton felt something click, a spark of panic. Where'd Philip go? He just realized that he had disappeared from a few feet away. He looked frantically around, dropping his guard and not paying attention any longer. It was find the mad man amongst chaos.
It was when he spotted him across the field, straddling the leader of the prison; punching and then finally wrapping his hands around the man's throat. He saw Michonne come out from behind the abandoned vehicle, unsheathe her sword, and before Milton could scream in warning the blade had pierced through Philips heart. It all happened to quick, one moment the man was winning but now a blood stained sword was embedded into him.
Everything around Milton seemed to slow as an angry scream ripped out of the usually timid and quiet man. Pure anger boiled inside of him now, as he now found a reason to validly kill; Philip.
And it was then that he began to bolt across the field; adrenaline coursed through him as he was preparing to raise his gun, aim straight for Michonne.
A biter from the corner of his eye registered and made him turn to shoot it out of reflex; distracting him completely from his intended target slipping away along with Rick. The gun was empty now, shit. He dropped it on the ground as he looked around, not seeing where the duo had gone.
Milton wore a face that was foreign to him, the face of pure anger; he had never snarled or even bared his teeth. But he was now, now he was looking for Michonne, teeth bared, frustrated swears; nothing like the usual advisor who hid from danger, who avoided anger and any other emotions.
It was apparent he wouldn't find them as he could no longer see them amongst the growing chaos. Everything was falling apart around them, he knew then even after this there would be no prison, there wouldn't be anything.
As Milton approached Philip he gave one last look around, nothing; losing his angered expressions, he replaced it with one of concern and panic. He dropped to his knees, beginning to investigate the writhing man on the ground. Philip was practically gasping for air; blood was quickly seeping through his shirt, staining the entire piece of fabric. All Milton could do was stare; it was beyond his abilities to fix this. It was then that dread completely filled the man; he was going to lose him.
Milton gave a sigh of frustration while grief took over his features as he watched his friend suffer in front of him. What could he do? Panic was taking over; he was trying so desperately to maybe come up with something, anything to solve this. He could feel a tug in him, the tug at his heart as he was met with his worst fear.
He was trying not to cry, he knew Philip wouldn't approve, he would try to be strong for once in his life instead of his usual cowering. His entire life was lived in the shadow of his friend; the man who kept him sheltered and had done the best he could to teach him how to survive in these last few months. Philip had protected him from his fears for years, had kept him safe even before the world shut down.
Milton had developed a certain admiration for Philip, a special kind of love. It wasn't romantic, but it was a strong enough love that he'd do anything for him, enough to claim him as family in front of others, defend him from nasty words said of him, and most of all, to change spots with him right now.
He had witnessed Philip rise and fall over and over again, but now this was the final fall.
Still choking back the cry the so badly wanted out, he had maneuvered and adjusted Philip so the man lay in his arms. Milton held on and looked down at him, and to his own surprise, even in Philips state, he had made an effort to look back at him.
That was it, Milton couldn't keep it in anymore, and he was now hunched over Philip, gripping at his jacket as tears brimmed at his eyes. He wanted to keep them in, he wanted to show that he was going to be strong, but it was becoming harder and harder. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything. I wish I could have done something." Milton choked halfway through as his vision was becoming blurred now.
Philip gave him a saddened look, detectible even through the painful expressions, "Maybe if I wasn't so damn usele-"
"Lea-ve…" Milton's eyes widened at the sudden interruption, it wasn't what he said that took him by surprise, it was that the fact he even had any strength left to talk. He was ready to talk again but Philip began to speak instead, voice barely above a whisper, "You nev-er did anything' wro-ng. Just… Get out of here. You ne-ed to find somewhere s-safe."
Philips voice kept cracking and cutting out at some parts due to the pains increasing pain and lack of air, he was dying right in his arms and but he was using the last of what he had in him to tell Milton to leave him. To find somewhere safe and survive, not to remain over his dying body, crying over him. Milton shouldn't cry over him, he wasn't worth the man's tears and sudden forth coming of emotion.
He had never seen Milton cry, not in all the years he'd known him, and it hurt to see that the only time he ever saw it happen, was now over him. Philip wanted to tell him to stop, but it was apparent that it wasn't that simple, he watched through his blurring vision, the tears that streaked his advisors face.
Milton spoke quietly, "I've been at your side since the beginning, and I don't plan on leaving now." Milton kept Philip in his arms, as he waited. He knew Philip didn't have long now and the least he could do was be with his friend till the end. He no longer cared what happened, this was the end.
If it were any other time, Philip would have sighed and told him enough. But if it was his friends wish to be by his side through this, then he'd allow it. He'd allow for the only person who ever truly cared to stay at his side through his last breath.
But if he were to allow him to stay, he would request one thing of him. With one sloppy and slow motion he pulled his pistol up and pressed it to Milton's chest in an effort to give it to him.
"Milton, whatev-er you don't l-let me become one of those. Don't you dare let it happen." His tone was fading but firm. "One bullet right to the head. I-I know you ca-n do it. Please do this for me, jus' one last favor." There was now a hint of a pleading tone.
Milton stopped crying, he looked down at the gun being weakly pressed into his chest by a shaking hand. His brow furrowed as he took it in his own hand now, "But I c-"
"Let me die with some sort of hum-anity."
Milton simply nodded with a small sniffle, he was going to be strong, he was going to at least try to be for his friend. But after a few short moments, after a few more sputters and heaves of breath, after he heard Philips last breath, that's when he knew he wasn't so certain he could be strong now.
Philip was dead.
Milton could feel his hand shaking, he could feel something bubbling inside him and he didn't know if it was anger or mourning. He dismissed it as he held the gun in his hand, now pressed to his friends head.
He could even feel the life leave Philips body, he felt his friend leave him. It made the tears resurface. Looking down at him, he took one last look at Philips face. He wore the face a man who had seen and felt too much. The face of someone who carried something he never wanted but burdened himself with it rather than give up.
Milton shut his eyes as his finger pressed down; he felt the gun go off, the sound of the bullet passing and the feel of blood splattering against his skin.
He instantly dropped the gun onto the ground, and reopened his eyes. He didn't look back to Philip but rather looked ahead to the chaos that surrounded felt the bubbling in him rise and a scream tore from his throat. His hands now gripped at what was once his friend again.
It was over.
Milton stayed put.
The sound of approaching walkers was evident, but he didn't budge. He kept Philips body in his arms; he continued to stare ahead as the dead got closer. He shut his eyes one more time.
This was the end.