Charlotte finds Miles right where she'd expected: sitting at an otherwise empty table in the corner of the crowded DHARMA cafeteria. He's picking at an untouched pile of mashed potatoes when she plops down across from him, making him flinch.
"So?" she prompts.
Miles makes a face and grumbles, "So, what?"
Charlotte rolls her eyes. "So, last night was the big night, wasn't it? How'd it go? What did he say?"
He frowns at his food in silence.
As always, she reads him like an open book. "You still haven't asked him yet, have you?"
"Look, these things take time, alright?"
"How much longer are you going to keep putting this off?" She leans closer and lowers her voice. "The sub leaves in less than three weeks, and you haven't so much as mentioned the bloody idea to Daniel." She shakes her head. "I don't understand what you're waiting for."
"Yeah, of course not," Miles says flatly. "I'm only asking him to leave everything he's ever known behind and never see his family again and move to a place he's never been before, with me and my sick mom, who he's never met." He shrugs. "You're right, it sounds like a great deal for him. Why should I wait?"
"So, you've managed to talk yourself out of it again, then." She sighs and moves to get up. "Fantastic. Glad we had this chat."
"Charlotte, wait." Miles grabs her wrist to stop her. "I'm sorry, okay? I just… I don't wanna ruin the last few weeks I have with him." He looks down and adds, quietly, "I don't wanna lose him."
"Then don't," Charlotte says. "Just ask him already. You know he'll say yes."
"No, I don't!" Miles snaps, louder than he should, and then he stares at his food and waits for the few heads that have swiveled toward them to turn away again. "Look, even if he does, there's a lot of factors to consider. I mean, I don't even know how the hell we'd get him on the sub in the first place. I don't want him to agree to something that might not even work anyway."
"Your dad will figure something out."
"Yeah, I'm not sure about that," he mutters, sculpting his mashed potatoes into a plateau with his spoon. "We had another talk this morning."
"Oh, don't tell me it happened again," she says with a grimace. "You've got to start keeping a bloody alarm clock next to that couch."
"I was tired, okay? We both were." He rubs his eyes with one hand. "Anyway, I just don't wanna pressure him, that's all." Then he sees something over Charlotte's shoulder and his expression changes to a sly grin. "And speaking of pressure…"
Charlotte follows his gaze. "Bloody hell." She quickly turns back to Miles and ducks her head down close to the table. "Pretend I'm not here."
He laughs. "Are you seriously hiding?"
"Yes," she hisses.
"Well, good thing there are so many redheads in here, otherwise you'd be super easy to find," Miles says with a smirk.
"Piss off." She steals a glance over her shoulder toward the other side of the cafeteria, where Ethan is making his way through the food line. "I swear, he's been following me around all week."
"More like all year," Miles notes.
"Well, it's gotten worse," she says. "I don't know how to get rid of him."
"Tell him to get lost?" He looks up and grins again. "And here comes your perfect chance."
"Hi, Charlotte!" says a cheerful voice from behind her.
Charlotte pastes a polite smile on her face before turning around. "Hello again, Ethan," she replies, with as much feigned enthusiasm as she can manage.
"Boy, we keep running into each other, huh?" Ethan glances between her and Miles before stepping closer to the empty seat beside her. "So, I managed to grab the last Apollo bar," he says, gesturing to the tray of food in his hands, "If you want to split it with me?"
"Sorry, I've already had my lunch," Charlotte says quickly, before he can sit down. "I'm only here to make sure Miles eats his vegetables."
Ethan shoots Miles something like a glare, but it's gone in an instant. "Well, that's okay. More for me, then."
He takes a seat at the table instead of taking a hint, and Charlotte looks to Miles for help. "Actually, we were just about to head out," Miles says, gathering up his tray.
"Oh, okay." If Ethan is disappointed, he doesn't show it. "I'll catch up with you later, then," he says to Charlotte.
"I'm sure you will," she says wryly, forcing another smile as she stands to follow Miles. She doesn't look back, but she's fairly sure she can feel his eyes on her until she's through the door.
"Why don't you just tell him to leave you alone?" Miles asks her once they're outside. "You never had any problem breaking the hearts of all the other weirdos that tried to ask you out."
"Yeah, well, none of those weirdos were named Goodspeed, now were they," she grumbles as they walk toward the houses.
"Wait, that's what has you so worried?" Miles frowns. "I thought Ann Arbor already accepted your application."
"Ugh." Charlotte rubs the bridge of her nose. "They did, but Horace still has the power to revoke it until I actually leave."
"He wouldn't, though."
"But he could. You know he already doesn't like me." She shakes her head. "I can't take that chance. I've waited my whole bloody life for this, I'm not gonna risk ruining it right at the last minute."
Miles nods. "So you've gotta play nice with his son, or else no research position for you."
"It's only three more weeks," Charlotte says. "I've just gotta keep him happy for three weeks, and that's all."
"Three weeks of puppy dog Ethan, following you everywhere."
She shoves Miles. "Piss off."
"Hey, you better be nice to me," Miles says with a grin. "Who else is gonna rescue you from unwanted suitors?"
She rolls her eyes and shoves him again, harder. They walk in silence for a few seconds, and then Charlotte glances around to make sure no one's listening before leaning closer to Miles. "Well, what'll you do about your suitor, then?" She pauses and squints. "Or, suit-ee? Are you the suitor or is he?"
"How should I know?" he says in answer to both questions. He shakes his head. "I'll just have to try and meet up with him again."
"It's only three more weeks," she repeats, as if he needs the reminder.
"I know." They're nearly to his house, and he stops walking a short distance from the porch. "I'm gonna talk to him. Soon." Charlotte raises an eyebrow, and he adds, "This time for sure."
Daniel jerks awake to the sound of a screeching bird nearby, a tern that continues to squawk at him as it flies away, telling him off for posting up in the crook of two tree branches rather than on the ground where humans belong.
He rubs his eyes, stretches out the stiffness in his neck, and glances down at his watch. He didn't mean to fall asleep, and he definitely didn't mean to sleep for nearly half an hour, oblivious to the world while any number of game animals might've meandered through the small clearing below. Now that the sun is high overhead, heating the humid air beneath the canopy like an oven, it's unlikely that anything else will wander close enough to shoot; he'll either have to return to camp empty-handed, or stick it out until the evening, when the air cools and the jungle comes to life once more.
He drums his fingers on his bow and sighs. He can already hear his father, chiding him for sitting still all day instead of actively seeking out and stalking his prey, a strategy that Daniel knows he isn't particularly good at.
It's only been a few months since his first real hunt, after all; it was an outing on his twelfth birthday that began before sunrise and lasted until dusk, much to his father's annoyance. When they'd finally returned that night, Daniel carrying a small boar on his shoulders and feeling a bit like he was the one who'd been skewered, Richard assured him that it would get easier with time. "It takes practice. Nobody's good at it right away, not even Charles."
As always, Richard was right, but it isn't time that's made him any better at hunting so much as solitude. It's much easier to focus without his father hovering over his shoulder, criticizing his every move or lack thereof, waiting for him to make a mistake. He can be patient when he's alone, taking his time and waiting for the right shot, rather than loosing an arrow early for fear of showing too much hesitation.
He'd learned that lesson several years prior, when presented with a machete and a squealing piglet that Charles brought back to camp for apparently no other purpose than to make him kill it. It was so small and so young that it hadn't known to run away when its mother collapsed with a knife in her side, and Daniel was so young and so scared that the piglet was in his hands for less than a second before squirming free and scurrying off into the underbrush.
His father scolded him until he was in tears, and then he scolded him for that, too. He tersely informed Dan that the pig was too young to survive on its own, that it had been his responsibility to put it down quickly rather than letting it starve, that this is how the world works and he'd better get used to it. Daniel spent the rest of that evening curled up in bed, listening to his parents argue outside his mother's tent and trying not to think about that baby boar, lost and alone somewhere in the dark.
He wonders sometimes what he ever did to make his father dislike him so much.
A rustling from nearby shakes him from his thoughts, and he readies an arrow. Instead of a boar, though, a boy stumbles through the bushes below.
Daniel blinks and lowers his bow. The boy hasn't spotted Dan yet, high above his head and hidden by the thick foliage of the tree. He mumbles something to himself and stops walking in the middle of the clearing, looking around like he's lost, and that's when Daniel realizes that he's seen him before.
The boy – Miles – moves in a small circle before finally plopping down with his back to the tree, almost directly below Dan's perch. He hugs his arms over his chest and lets out a sigh, like he's resting there, and Daniel frowns, at a loss for what to do. He can't sit perfectly still forever; Miles will hear him when he moves, and what happens then?
Maybe it would be better to announce his presence now and get it over with. Daniel takes a deep breath. "Miles?"
Immediately, Miles scrambles to his feet to look around wildly, searching for the source of the voice. He doesn't see Dan until he shoulders his bow and starts to climb down. "Jesus!" Miles trips on a tangle of vines as he backs away and stares wide-eyed at him from the jungle floor.
Dan's feet hit the ground with a satisfying thud. "You're…Miles, right?" It's an unnecessary question; he couldn't forget the names of the two DHARMA kids from that day if he tried. He'd have written them down once he'd made it back home, if he hadn't been afraid of someone finding the page; he spent the whole night memorizing them instead, lying awake and trying to imagine what their lives might be like.
"…Yeah." Miles slowly pushes himself up to his feet, recognition dawning in his eyes as well. "You're…"
"Daniel."
"Right. I remember you."
"You shouldn't be out here, Miles."
He rolls his eyes and mutters, "Yeah, thanks, Captain Obvious," before quickly cutting himself off, like he hadn't meant to let that slip out.
They stand for a moment in silence, neither of them sure what to do. "Are you hurt?" Dan asks slowly.
"What?" Miles looks down and shakes his legs free of the vines still twisted around his ankles. "No, no, I'm… I'm good."
"Okay." Daniel fidgets. "Well… What are you doing here?"
"Just…needed to get away for a bit, you know?" Miles shrugs, the movement a bit forced. "And then, I got a little turned around, I guess."
Daniel takes a step closer to Miles, studying him carefully. His skin is littered with pale scratches and red scrapes where it isn't covered by his shorts and the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie. How long has he been lost? "It's dangerous out here."
"I know." Miles' eyes flick to the bow slung over Dan's shoulder.
He stops walking. "You're…afraid of me." he realizes aloud.
Miles doesn't answer, but he doesn't have to, and something about that makes Daniel feel sick to his stomach.
"I'm not gonna hurt you. I promise." He takes a small step back to put some distance between them. "But, if anyone else finds you out here…"
Miles nods stiffly. "Can you just…tell me which way to go? Home, I mean."
"DHARMA. Right." Daniel looks around and then points northeast. "That way. See the ridge there, at the base of the mountain? If you walk straight toward that, the DHARMA fence is on the other side of the hill."
Miles stares at him for a few seconds, like he wasn't expecting an actual answer. "Okay," he says, finally, glancing back and forth between the mountain and Dan. "Um. Thanks." He starts walking.
"I won't tell anyone," Daniel says suddenly, and Miles turns back to him. "That I… I saw you. Out here."
Miles seems more confused than anything, but there's relief in his eyes, too. "Thanks," he repeats.
Daniel watches him go. It's against the rules, of course; no one from the DHARMA Initiative is allowed to be outside of their little settlement. Breaking the truce is a declaration of war, after all.
But he doesn't really want to go to war.
Covering for this DHARMA boy is against the rules, too. Daniel wouldn't be surprised if his parents are already aware somehow of what he's done; his mother might take one look at his face and know that he's guilty. Just in case, he starts thinking up explanations for why he let Miles go as he turns to head back toward the camp.
Because he was lost.
Because he was alone.
Because he was just a kid, too.
Because he helped Dan, when he needed it.
He's ripped from his thoughts by a rhythmic clicking from somewhere nearby, a sound that freezes him in his tracks and chills him to the bone. "Oh, no."
It echoes off the trees to surround him, making it impossible to tell where it's coming from. Dan's eyes dart around frantically, searching for the slightest hint of movement, the faintest wisp of smoke in the air, so he knows which direction to run.
And then he stops, and stares at the ground. "Miles."
He whirls around and dashes toward the mountain, because Miles won't know where to run.
It doesn't take long to find him; he's just inside the treeline when Dan all but crashes into him, nearly throwing them both to the ground. "Hey, what–"
Daniel grabs his arm. "Run."
Miles blinks. "What?"
A roar rips through the jungle from the south. Dan drags him into a sprint. "Run!"
They run. Miles stumbles a few times, his breath coming out in ragged gasps as he tries to keep up, but Dan doesn't let go. He steals a glance over his shoulder exactly once, to see the dark tendrils reaching out like hungry fingers from between the trees.
They can't outrun it.
He looks around wildly, searching for a hiding spot, but he doesn't know this part of the island well enough to know where–
The twisted branches of a banyan tree snatch his attention, and he steers them toward it, his lungs burning. He drags Miles into the hollow of the tree and crouches down as low as he can. "It can't get us here," he whispers like a prayer.
Miles cranes his neck, trying to get a good look around the branches. "What is it?"
Daniel yanks him away from the opening with a hiss of "Stay down."
They stay perfectly still as darkness coils around the trunk, encircling the tree like a spiderweb. Miles gawks, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, and Dan can feel him trembling against his shoulder. The darkness stretches on for an eternity, dead silent aside from his heart pounding in his ears.
And then finally, it begins to recede, the smoke dissipating like fog beneath a morning sun.
Neither of them dares to move until it's out of sight completely. Miles is the first to breathe, shakily. "What the hell was that?"
"It's dangerous out here," Daniel says simply, and Miles stares at him with something like awe as he rises slowly to his feet. He takes a cautious step out into the open.
"Where's it going?" Miles asks, still pale with shock. "Where'd it come from?"
Dan shakes his head, unable to offer any answers. He's nearly managed to catch his breath, and he surveys their surroundings, searching for a landmark. "I don't think I've been here before," he says softly, and then he adds, in response to Miles' look of despair, "But it's okay, I can figure out where we are." He turns toward where he's pretty sure north is, relying only on his sense of direction, since the canopy overhead blocks the sky from view. He motions for Miles to follow. "Let's go. We need to get you back to your people before anything else happens."
He nods in agreement and falls into step beside Dan. They stay close together, wary of the shadows shifting around them as the foliage dances in the wind. Daniel catches Miles' arm a few times when he trips over roots or vines or rocks.
It's after the third time that he notices the odd crescent-shaped band around Miles' neck, silver and shining in the rays of light filtering through the leaves. "What's that?" he asks, pointing.
Miles looks down in surprise before glancing back at Dan with a small smile. "Oh, these are for my Walkman." He stops walking to reach into his pocket and pulls out a rectangular device with STEREO written on it in big bold letters. A black cord juts out of one side and connects to the thing around Miles' neck – headphones, Daniel's mind helpfully provides, a word he must have picked up from a book. Miles presses a button on the side of the device, and tinny music fills the air between them.
Daniel stares in wonder. "That's amazing."
Miles adjusts a dial with his thumb and grins. "Yeah, it is. Wanna listen?"
Without waiting for an answer, he takes off the headphones and hands them over. Hesitantly, Daniel wraps them around his neck the same way that Miles was wearing them, and Miles laughs a little and reaches out to adjust them, placing the soft ends over Dan's ears instead.
The music reverberates through his skull, filling him with an emotion he has no words for. It's loud and harsh and unlike anything he's ever heard before. Miles watches him with a smile, bobbing his head slightly in time with the beat.
"It's really loud!" Daniel realizes he's shouting when Miles flinches. "Sorry," he adds, quieter, and he takes the headphones off to hand them back.
"Cool, though, right?" Miles says as he stops the playback and stuffs the headphones into his pocket along with the Walkman.
"Yeah," Dan agrees with a nod and a shy smile of his own. "Cool."
They start moving north again, and Daniel tries not to be too obvious about watching Miles as they walk.
"So…" he begins, after a few minutes of silence. "Why are you out here, anyway?" That's the question he keeps coming back to. After the last time they met, after Miles and Charlotte were nearly killed by his people, after Richard had led them back to the fence and directly into the hands of the DHARMA security personnel, they must have gotten in big trouble with their respective parents. Daniel certainly did. So why would Miles want to come back, to risk everything all over again?
Miles kicks at a stray rock. "I go past the fence, sometimes," he admits softly. "When it's all just…too much."
Daniel frowns. "Too much?"
"It's my dad. Him, and all the other scientists." Miles says the word like a curse. "They're all so…fake. Like they're not even human. You know what I mean?"
Dan doesn't quite understand, but he nods anyway. He knows what it's like to want to escape.
"It bothers my mom, too," Miles says. "She's a scientist, but ever since my dad had this accident at work, it's like, he doesn't want her to do anything." He pauses, then continues, a bit quieter, "That's why they're splitting up. My mom's going back to the mainland, and I think my dad wants me to go with her, and no one even cares what I want."
Daniel blinks, not sure what to say. "What do you want?"
Miles shrugs. "I don't know, I just…" He sniffles and rubs one eye. "I don't want her to go. I mean, they should be able to work this out. You know, like, sit down and talk about it. Like adults. Right?"
Daniel tries to imagine his parents resolving a problem through calm conversation, and the idea is bizarre enough to be funny, almost. "Yeah, you'd think that," he agrees softly. "I'm…sorry. About your parents."
"Thanks." Miles sighs and then shakes his head. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this."
"If it helps," Daniel says with a small smile, trying to cheer him up, "Neither do I."
It seems to work; he chuckles a bit. They walk in silence for a few minutes, until Miles suddenly stops in his tracks, and Daniel's heart leaps into his throat; did he catch him staring?
"I know where we are," Miles realizes aloud. He points to a cluster of banyan trunks, denser than the tree they'd hidden in. "I remember these trees, I passed them on my way out earlier." He turns to Dan. "We're back in DHARMA territory."
He takes a startled step back. "Oh. Um. I don't...think I should be here."
"It's okay," Miles says quickly. "Technically, it's DHARMA's, but we're still outside the fence. They call it the 'buffer zone', I think."
Hesitantly, Daniel nods. "I guess...you probably know where you're going from here, then," he says, with an odd sense of disappointment.
"Yeah," Miles replies with a confident nod.
"Good, that's good. Uh..." Dan glances over his shoulder, and then back to Miles.
"Right. I should be..." Miles' voice trails off, like he's not sure what to say either. Then his eyes light up and he reaches into his pocket. "You can borrow this." He presses his Walkman into Daniel's hands.
"Oh." Dan stares at it. He should say no. He should hand it right back. "Are… Are you sure?"
"Yeah. You can bring it back, uh…" Miles looks around. "Hide it in that tree, when you're done with it, and I'll find it."
Slowly, Daniel nods, already thinking about how to sneak it into his tent without anyone noticing. It won't be an easy thing to keep hidden. Still, he can't help smiling. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Miles returns the grin and finally turns to leave, waving over his shoulder. "See you around, Dan."
Miles checks the usual spot for any new messages before unfolding his own to read over for the thousandth time.
Sorry about my dad. Can we meet soon? There's something I want to ask you. Let me know when.
With a deep breath, he folds it up again and tucks it between the twisted roots of the banyan tree, down into a nook that's shielded from the rain and completely out of sight. He still remembers finding his Walkman there all those years ago, along with the small slip of paper filled edge to edge with Dan's detailed thoughts about every song on the cassette, all in the tiniest handwriting Miles had ever seen.
It takes more effort than it should for him to turn and walk away from the tree, but Miles does it, making it back home with a few minutes left to spare before the sun sets.
All he can do now is wait.