A/N: Okay, it's been a while, but this time it's a long chapter. Gets very depressing towards the end too. Oh, and thanks to Lora for reviewing so I know there's still someone out there reading this. I do take requests you know!

Chapter Ten: Long time no see

It got dark early in this place. Once again, Tyr found himself roaming rather aimlessly around the city centre. He had gone back to the bar, but the girl who had given him the tokens for the shuttle had not been there. Pity, he might have been able to get some food there. As it was, his stomach was starting to make some fairly loud noises and it was just going to get worse.

As night fell, the city seemed to reveal a new side of itself. Maybe because it was Friday, much more people were out on the streets, all dressed up. It looked odd; all the shiny, glittery clothes on people who were almost running along the streets to reach their destination safely. Some of them were extreme looking to say the least. Brightly coloured hair, and strange clothes. Well, no stranger really than some of the other places he'd been, but it was just that they were all human. Tyr was not used to humans being so... vivid.

Tyr had not really noticed before what a desperate place this seemed to be. It was just a general atmosphere of boredom so intense it bordered on hysteria. He dropped his hand to make sure his gun was still securely placed in the holster. No doubt this place was full of pickpockets, and although Tyr doubted that any of them would be good enough to take anything from him without him noticing, you could never be too careful.

The smell of smoke and burning rubber, the sound of screeching sirens and people screaming did not seem to be anything out of the ordinary here, but suddenly Tyr found himself in the middle of another one of these small-scale riots. Several people bumped off him, running from something he could not yet see. Then there was gunfire and his self-preservation instincts told him that since this was nothing to do with him, he should take cover as quickly as possible.

As he lunged into a side alley, he got a quick glimpse of a huge man with wires hanging out of his arms, holding onto a woman with bright green hair. Then there was a flash of light, another burst of gunfire, and a loud thud. The green-haired woman sprinted past Tyr, into the cul-de-sac. At the end, she stopped and looked up. Trapped, Tyr thought. He was just about to make a mental decision on whether he should be prepared to help her or not, (not) when she suddenly lifted off the ground, rising up in the air as if pulled up by invisible ropes. This was something new! The wind was sweeping into the alley with a force that rattled the lids on the rubbish bins, but it certainly was not strong enough to lift a human being up in the air and onto the rooftops. Tyr could not help staring. Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, making him spin around, instinctively drawing his gun in the process.

"Tyr! I don't believe it, what are you doing here?"

Milon. Tyr re holstered the gun and cursed the curious whim of nature that had given Milon the ability to sneak up on him unnoticed. But he had been distracted. That was not good enough.

"As a matter of fact, I am looking for you," he said.

"You came to see me? You're joking... I know there's some other reason, c'mon, what is it?"

"No, I did not come here to see you. Harper managed to get us transported here by mistake. I tried to find you because I believe that you can help us to get back to the Andromeda."

Milon gave him a that total, warm smile that Tyr wanted to say made him look a bit simple, but had to admit that it did not really. He could never quite get used to the fact that Milon acted like they were old friends. Good friends.

"Sure, I'll get you back. You're not in a hurry, are you?"

"Well, the sooner we get back, the more beneficial for the entire crew...."

"No, I mean; you are not in a hurry to get back, are you? There's no great panic? No one's gonna die if they have to wait until tomorrow?"

What a strange question. Tyr just gave him a puzzled look and said;

"No, I suppose not. Why?"

Milon laughed at him and grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Because we're gonna have some fun! C'mon!"

Milon took off running through the crowd. People seemed to get out of his way on instinct, only shifting enough to let him through without hitting off him, almost like there was an invisible forcefield around him. Unfortunately, they did not show Tyr the same consideration. He could not afford to lose sight of Milon now though, after having got so lucky as to being found by him, and he pushed his way through, sending people flying in all directions. A few angry shouts followed him as he ran after the white-haired young man who disappeared in between two houses on the opposite side of the street.

He stopped in the alley and looked around. Milon was nowhere to be seen, but all Tyr's senses told him that he was still around here somewhere. He could smell the lingering scent of adrenaline. What had that boy been up to?

"Hey, Tyr, keep up!"

The playful voice was coming from above. Tyr looked up and saw Milon on the fire escape ladder. Where was he going? Tyr was not in the mood for some childish game. He had to jump to reach the ladder, and pulled himself up. Milon had already disappeared up onto the next ladder, heading for the roof. Tyr followed as fast as he could. Eventually he reached the roof, where Milon was waiting for him.

"What is the point of this, boy?" Tyr asked sharply.

Milon turned around where he was standing, right at the edge of the roof. Not until now, Tyr noticed what a tall building this was. If he was to fall off...

"No point. Just fun. Nice view, don't ya think?"

Milon made a gesture at the cityscape below. From this height you could clearly see the devastation this city had been put through. It was oddly beautiful, the scattered lights among the ruins, burning fires in the dark. But Tyr was not about to lose sight of his main objective.

"I need to locate Beka and Harper and get back to the ship..."

His voice was mostly drowned out by the sound of the wind in his ears. It really was quite a strong breeze up here; it was tearing at every loose bit of fabric on his clothes. And Milon's. He really should not be standing that close to the edge...

"Yeah, yeah. All in good time. It's your first time in New City, I have to show you the sights!"

And with that, Milon stepped over the edge. For a split second, Tyr's insides turned to ice. He couldn't help remembering those scars he had discovered on Milon's wrists. Did he still harbour the same disregard for his own life? Then Tyr stepped forward and looked down. There was a ledge about four feet down, and another set of ladders leading down the wall. Then Tyr spotted Milon on the last one. Damn, he was fast.

Tyr was in perfect condition, not even slightly winded, as he finally caught up with Milon outside a set of double steel doors. After all the twists and turns, over buildings and through dark tunnels, Tyr had almost lost his bearings. Not completely though, but the fact of the matter was that Milon obviously knew this town inside out, and Tyr did not. And now Milon was standing, leaning against the brick wall, just waiting for him.

"You made it!"

"Of course I made it," Tyr snapped.

He did not care for the implication that Milon would have been able to lose him if he had tried.

"Why did you try to run from me boy?"

Milon just raised his white eyebrows at him, then pulled the doors open and stepped inside. Tyr followed, only because he had so far and was not about to change his mind now.

It was clearly some kind of bar, the place Milon had taken him. The room was painted mostly black, with mellow lighting. The music was not very loud, but it had a unrelenting rhythm that was impossible to shut out. There were only about twenty people in the whole place. Many of them sat on their own, staring down into glasses most likely containing strong spirits. Milon walked over to the bar and then turned to Tyr:

"What're you having?"

"Nietzscheans do not drink alcohol, if that is what you are asking."

"Why?"

Milon gave him an honestly puzzled look.

"Because it is destructive to your body and your mind. We do not eat rat poison either, for the same reason."

"Well, some times you need a little poison..." Milon mumbled, but still ordered something with the word "virgin" in it. Tyr had heard Harper use the same term before, followed by a rather disgusted look, when ordering him drinks, so he knew it meant alcohol free. Milon got an orange coloured drink for Tyr and a bottle of something that was kind of white, but translucent, like ice for himself.

"Come on..."

Tyr picked up his drink and followed him over to a table where a man was sitting, looking at a small, handheld screen.

"Hi."

Milon stood by the side of the table, waiting for the man to look up from his screen.

"Milon. What can I do for you?"

"Can I get some oranges please? And... I might need some more of that robot juice as well..."

Tyr could see the man giving him suspicious looks. Whatever it was he was doing could not be legal. And there was something else there as well, when he looked at Milon, some kind of sadness. Or pity. Yes, that was exactly what it was.

"Sure."

The man nodded at Milon, still half looking at Tyr. Then he reached into a pocket and took out a small, plastic tube containing orange pills. Were these drugs? Was Milon some kind of drug addict? No, that could not be possible. Trance would have known by the medical tests. Of course, that was six months ago, who knew what could have changed since then? Then the man cleared Tyr's mind of any lingering doubt when he handed Milon what was clearly some kind of syringe. Feelings of anger and revulsion made Tyr grab a hold of the boy's shoulder a little harder than he had been planning.

"What the hell are you doing buying drugs?" he hissed at him, all the time knowing it was really none of his business, and why should he care anyway?

"It's not drugs Tyr! It's medicine. I've got this... condition..."

On the last word, his smile changed into a look of worry, but it soon disappeared. Tyr could not believe he actually thought he would fall for such an obvious lie.

"Do you think I am stupid?" he said in an ice-cold voice.

Milon looked at him, his head slightly tilted. He looked a little sad, but still gave him a pale smile.

"No, I don't."

That was not much of an answer, although that was precisely what it was. Milon handed a small plastic card to the man who did something with it and handed it back. Payment, obviously.

"Cheer up Tyr, it's a night out!"

Milon emptied his bottle and opened the small, plastic container.

"You want one?"

"I thought you said it was "medicine"?"

"The shot is medicine. These are sweets!"

Tyr could tell by the slightly mischievous glint in his eyes that they were certainly not sweets.

"No thank you."

"Ah, come on! You, if anybody, could use some orange in your life!"

"Why, what is it that you take them for?"

"Ah, you know. The sugar rush..."

Milon swallowed a pill and gestured at Tyr to finish his drink. He took a sip, carefully analysing the flavours. Orange juice. No alcohol. Some kind of sweet mixer. It was harmless and quite pleasant. Tyr drank up and followed Milon back out the door.

"So where do you wanna go now? I know a few places... there's more to this town than meets the eye y'know..."

Milon kept moving; he seemed not to be able to stand still for a second. And rattling on worse than Harper after a six-pack of that revolting cola drink he loved so much. Quite different from what Tyr remembered. Different worse.

"Stand still!"

Tyr grabbed him by the shoulders and stared into his eyes. He could see an orange tint in Milon's usually light green eyes, which disturbed him. Not so much because it was decidedly not normal for a human being to have orange eyes, but because he knew that it had something to do with those pills.

"What you looking at me like that for?"

Milon smiled and looked back at him without a trace of intimidation. No matter how much Tyr raised his voice or how angry he got, he would never scare Milon. It was as frustrating as it was refreshing. A drop of rain suddenly landed on Tyr's nose. It smelled strangely acidic, dirty. More drops followed, the rain starting as if someone had turned a tap.

"Better get moving if we don't wanna get soaked..." Milon said.

Tyr muttered a response and let go. As soon as he had taken his hands off Milon, the boy was off and running again. This was going to be one long night.

Tyr was not sure how many hours had passed since he had met Milon in that alley. For once, time seemed to have lost importance. He knew there was no immediate rush, nobody was going to die if he took a few hour off and had some fun... somewhere in the back of his head this feeling felt wrong, but it was probably all the pressure of being in the business of war and diplomacy all day every day.

They were in some club. People were dancing everywhere. Tyr had never seen so many bright colours in one place at the same time before. The music was very energetic and the rhythm was slowly starting to creep into his bones. Milon had bought him a few more of those juice drinks that contained no alcohol. Tyr could smell the drink off him now though, although he seemed strangely resistant to its effects. Well, what was the harm really, if he could handle his drink, why not leave him alone? Tyr did not need alcohol to enjoy himself. When was the last time he had some fun? Dylan on his back about weapons and tactics and being polite to people who were better treated with a boot up the arse... here, was his glass empty already?

Milon was dancing, looking like he'd forgot that there was such a thing as the rest of the world. Looked like fun. Whoa, the colours were bright in here... Tyr never would've thought Earth people were so fond of wearing orange... some nice girls in here... Tyr needed to get a quick lend of Milon's account card so he could get himself another drink.

Only when he got there, Milon grabbed a hold of his arm again and suddenly the room seemed to be spinning around, obviously the room wasn't spinning around... there was a taste like exploding oranges in his mouth... and suddenly Tyr couldn't help laughing. This was all so stupid. Waste of time. But that beat, all those colours... and Milon was laughing at him and it was so contagious.

"Come on, time to move on!"

Tyr lost sight of Milon's white head in the crowd and pushed his way towards the exit. Where would they end up next? The rain was still beating down outside. In the light of the streetlamps the raindrops looked orange. Milon didn't seem to mind in the slightest being soaked to the skin; he just stood there, looking up at the sky, letting the rain fall right down into his face.

"Hey, Tyr, having a good time?"

"Actually... yeah."

He could feel himself smiling, but unable to do anything about it even if he had wanted to.

"Good! Hope you're not allergic to the rain... but I guess Nietzscheans have a good immune system?"

"The best. I dunno what's in that rain, but it ain't got a hope."

Milon laughed out loud and said:

"Sounds like I'm starting to corrupt your meticulous articulation! Careful or next you'll be picking up an accent!"

Tyr just laughed, this was so silly. They started walking down the street; Tyr didn't really care where they were going.

"So, how's everything back on the Andromeda?" Milon asked.

"Much the same... boring sometimes. It was better when you were there, you should've stayed, I missed you..."

Milon stopped dead in his tracks and gave Tyr a surprised look. Nothing like the surprise Tyr was feeling himself. Where the hell had that come from? Was it true? Had he really come to regard Milon so much as a friend that he had missed him being there?

"For real?"

Tyr frowned. Why was his head feeling so... odd? He just needed to concentrate a bit more on what was important.

"So, can you show me those channellers now?" was the first thing he could think of.

"Maybe..." Milon took a few steps backwards... "if you can catch me!"

He spun around and started running again. This time Tyr didn't even feel annoyed. He could catch him, just wait and see! The boy needed to learn a lesson about not overestimating his own skills. That's one thing he missed about being a mercenary, when you got the chance to hunt people down. The killing that inevitably followed might not be as much fun as he liked to pretend, but the chasing was always a thrill. And this time he wouldn't even have to kill anybody.

Again, time seemed to go. It didn't matter. The darkness, the wind, the rain and most of all the blood pumping through his veins as he forced his body to its maximum speed, that was what life meant. For all the tedious workouts in the gym, this was what you called training! Like a wild obstacle course, lethal if you slipped up. There was something about the danger that made it. Not too dangerous, not foolishly, stupidly, dangerous. Just about right.

Maybe Milon didn't know the whole city inside out after all, because eventually Tyr caught up with him on another roof. No escape from here, no ladders apart from the one they had climbed to get here. No other buildings within jumpable distances. No escape... he had him now and... what the hell was he doing? This was no time to be playing silly games! Tyr remembered all too well how he had felt earlier, bubbling with laughter, and that was not normal! He could still taste oranges...

"You drugged me!"

It came out in a roar as he grabbed Milon by the throat and slammed him up against the large ventilation box on the roof. Oh he had a good mind to break his neck!

"But you had fun, didn't you?"

"How dare you poison my drinks and then try and make excuses for it?"

Tyr was furious, but Milon still did not look afraid. He just looked up at him calmly and did not even try to struggle.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted you to have a good time. Life's too short y'know..."

"And deliberately shortening it further seems to you like a good idea?"

"I swear to you, there's nothing in those pills that will harm you or get you addicted. They are nowhere near as bad as alcohol... promise."

"That is irrelevant! I said no, and you went against my wishes!"

He was starting to calm down a little, but was not about to let Milon know that.

"Okay! I'm sorry 'bout that. Just wanted some company is all... hey, lemme go..."

There was something so sad and small in his voice that Tyr could not help but let him go. Milon immediately stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out the pills, shaking out two into his mouth with a trembling hand. He turned his back on Tyr and walked over to the edge of the roof. The now almost storm was swirling all around them, throwing Tyr's braids around like small whips, threatening to have his eyes out.

"When did you become this... pathetic?" Tyr asked.

It was not really intended as an insult, but he really wanted to know what had happened to Milon that could have changed him from the brave spirit Tyr had known to this desperate sounding drug user.

Milon laughed, his back still turned, but he did not answer. The wind was making him rock slightly and the rain was still beating down, making the roof slippery. Tyr remembered just how light Milon was from the time he had to carry him, and a particularly strong gust of wind might just be enough to push him over the edge. So what?

"What is wrong with you?"

The frustration was blazing inside Tyr as he grabbed a hold of Milon's shoulder and pulled him back from the edge. Milon spun around and stared at him, his eyes wide, glassy and orange.

"Hey! Nothing's wrong with me! You ought to lighten up Tyr... live a little while you have the chance. The next thing you know, you could be..."

"Dead?" Tyr said threateningly, "you owe me an explanation, boy."
Milon turned his head away. Then finally, he started speaking.

"Ok... but you have to promise me you won't tell anybody. Especially Pitch, if you ever see him while you're here... you have to swear you won't say anything..."

Tyr just nodded.

"Okay. I'm sick... I mean really sick... I have this virus called Trial. It only affects Genies, so don't worry, you won't catch it from me."

Tyr watched the raindrops bouncing off the hard concrete of the roof.

"The virus attaches itself to the Elemental cells and breaks them down. Your Gelfs are the first thing that goes, and if you try to use them, that only speeds up the process. That's why I can't heal myself. After that, it moves on to your normal cells..."

"So this is terminal?" Tyr asked.

"A hundred percent."

He still would not look Tyr in the eyes, just stared out over the scattered lights of the city.

"How long have you go left?"

"A fortnight? Maybe more, maybe less..."

"And these drugs, do they help?"
"They won't cure me. Nothing can."

"And you are afraid."

It was not a question. But Milon laughed a desperate kind of laugh and spread his arms out to catch the falling rain.

"Of dying? No Tyr, I'm absolutely delighted! And terrified..."

He turned around and looked at Tyr. It was impossible to tell if those were tears or raindrops on his face, but judging from his expression, it could be either. Milon continued:

"I'm not afraid of dying. I've been to hell and I've been to heaven and if they'd sold T-shirts I would've bought one. It's not that... it's just... how am I going to tell Pitch this? I can't do that. I've heard that the pain Trial victims go through at the end often drive them mad. When you can't even move anymore and still shake so badly you think your body would just come apart. In the end you just lie there screaming... and that can last for days. Pitch lost his little brother when he was fourteen... when we became friends, when I was young, I had 'substitute' written all across my forehead... I guess that's not all anymore, but I still can't just tell him 'oh by the way, in about two weeks I'm going to turn into a shrieking vegetable and when that happens you'll be a mate and do the humane thing, won't ya?' How can I ask him that?"

He looked at Tyr like he was begging him for an answer. Tyr had none to give. They stood in silence as the wind and the rain raged on as if they would never stop. But everything stops some time.