Milton had known Philip for quite awhile, and being that he knew the other man ever since long before the apocalypse had outbroken, he would do anything to protect him - no matter what had to be done, no matter what could happen to himself, he'd do anything to protect the Governor.
Especially, now.
The researcher's eyes darted about the forestry surrounding him. Trees towered overhead, rocks covered the ground, and a few snakes could have been spotted slithering about the pine needles covering the dirty, dingey ground. There didn't seem to be any known escape, and the moaning of the biters seemed to be growing even closer. Philip's fever had already risen, breaking him into a deep sweat, and the blood that poured out of his neck tainted Milton's button-down shirt.
God, how would he get the both of them out of this one?
Thinking quickly with a racing mind, Milton threw the Governor over his shoulders and began carrying him off in an uncharted direction. There was no pathway dug into the ground, nor was there a single trail leading out of it. Milton had no idea where he was going, or what he was doing, but he knew that running off in such a direction with Philip would be their only hope.
But weariness struck him, and his little legs didn't carry him fast enough. When his ankle became snagged against a large rock, he fell forward, sending both him and Philip tumbling down in a landslide. His ankle had twisted, and despite the pain he was in, he felt numb, his only concern in Philip's wellbeing. Scrambling nonsensically to grapple a tree stump, his arm grabbed hold of Philip's leg, and he began carrying him back uphill.
When they had finally trekked upward, Milton rested Philip down on the ivy-covered forest floor. He scanned the bite over with his eyes, and watched the Governor slowly shut his own eyes. "Philip, no," Milton shook his head hestantly, shaking the Governor ever so lightly. His heart sank as Philip's heart rate declined. Even his own chest quit heaving when his lover's did. "Philip!" He tried again. "Philip, we're safe! We're... we're safe! You can't die now!"
"M-Milton," Philip finally began speaking, choking on his own words. His voice was barely audible, and he blankly stared up at the other man. "Y'gotta leave me here... Please. Save yerself."
"I'm not leaving you!" The researcher's voice shook as tears welled into his eyes. "We're safe! Don't you understand? You're safe! I'm safe! Just... hang on a little longer. Please. I'd do anything-"
"No," Philip interrupted sternly, wincing in pain. "Go. Now. There's a pathway along down the... the way. See? Keep runnin' north. When y'get to the path, take a right. It'll get'cha back to Woodbury. Tell ev'ryone what happened. Y-Y'got that?"
"Philip-"
"When I say somethin'," Philip grew sterner than ever, but his hoarse voice blocked out his furiousness, "y'do it! Got that? Now, go!"
Milton hesitated for a moment, but finally clambered back to his own feet. "Fine." He trekked away a few metres, but stopped, cocking his head back over his shoulder to give a final gaze to the Governor.
"I'm fine," Philip's head dipped upward to look at Milton. "Don' worry 'bout me. Take care of yerself. An' Milton?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."