Inconclusive

Matthew Lestrange, a Death Eater, was an utter wreck. He had lost most contact with his colleagues and he barely spoke to his wife since he found out she was pregnant. It wasn't doing either of them good but it was something Matt couldn't help. He needed to think, and to think he needed quiet. He had been keeping to himself and spending a majority of his time in the Malfoy Manner library. During the day it was overrun by various witches and wizards looking into more creative ways to cause pain and chaos. Nobody cared about him, a few of them offered to take him out muggle hunting. That had no appeal to Matt. And after so many refusal's to accompany them he could tell they were getting suspicious. But Matt was tired. Just, tired.

He found himself sitting alone for the fifth night in a row. Everyone had pretty much left the Manner except for the residents and they never entered at night. It had become Matt's home away from home, his haven. He sat by the fair in one of two blood red armchairs, a table between them with a half drunken bottle of brandy and a small glass. It was Matt's third bottle and he still couldn't feel the effects. The fire was blazing before him was the only light in the room. The warmth was comfort and the quiet was nice. He had been thinking for days, nearly a week. He wasn't sure if being a Death Eater would be the right choice for him at this point. Not only was he going to be a father of twins, but the joy he got out of killing was no longer there. Like it just, up and left. He sighed an rubbed his eyes out of exhaust. He heard the door open behind him, casting a light against the wall facing him.

He knew that figure. There was no way he would ever forget that body build. "Well, come to cheer me up have you?" he called half angrily as the shadow of Milo d'Eath began to walk towards him.

Milo strolled up to the gates of Malfoy Manor and stumbled into a few times before he realized they were closed. He had had more than a few drinks in his system, he had met twins that night, and he now held the bottle of another Firewhiskey. "Look here, gates. I don't know who you think you are- but I'm a f*cking Death Eater!" His voice got shrill on this exclamation. "I mean, my last name is spelled like death," he said, before admitting, "though there's some confusion on the pronunciation." He nodded impressively, "But really, you should listen to me." He approached the gate, resting the side of his mouth against it, "Or I'll kill your parents."

A house elf has spotted the scene, but knew to let in any Death Eater at all times. The little creature opened the gates. "Master d'Eath must not puke in the vases again. Gob's master was very upset." Milo patted Gob's cheek and said, "Good kitty."

Milo strolled through, remembering that his reason for showing up was he had been unable to locate his best mate to boast of the attractiveness of the twins now vying for his attentions. He stumbled through the halls, whispering in a voice that was really more of a hushed yell, "Matt! Matty-Mate! Honey bear!"

Another house elf raised a finger to his lips and pointed to the library. Milo nodded, agreeing by yelling "SSSH" right back, and he flounced into the library, throwing the door opened and then closed. He approached his friend and then plopped down in his lap, planting a huge kiss on the side of his head. "I missed you."

Milo was drunk. He could tell just by the way his shadow moved across the room. He feared at how far he'd gone that night. But he never worried to much, Milo had a talent at sobering up quickly. It rivaled Matt's uncanny ability to swallow alcohol by the gallon and never once feel a buzz. But as his friend jumped onto his lap and plastered a wet kiss on the side of his head he couldn't help but smirk at the man. "You're an idiot." he told him chuckling and shoving him off. He needed Milo to sober up quickly, he needed advice from the sober d'Eath.

But the smirk faded as he looked at Milo. Who was presently regaining his footing and standing up. He and Milo could communicate by facial expression alone. When you held a bond with someone as strong as they did it came naturally to them. "Milo. I need to talk to you." he said quietly as he put his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees. "I've done quite a bit of thinking about my life. Emmy just told me she's pregnant." he told him. He hadn't told anyone yet not even Milo. It was the first he'd heard. "And I really don't want my children to become me. Frankly, I'm a monster. And I don't like it."

"You're an idiot." Milo grinned, waggling his head back and forth as he grinned up at his friend, like a child trying to convince the babysitter to pull the Halloween candy from off of the top shelf. "That's why you love me, though!" And that love was demonstrated through a hearty shove that left Milo sprawled at his friend's feet.

No matter. He raised his arm and curled it around one of Matt's legs, clutching it tightly; this time like a child clutching his dad's legs as the father carried him to bed. Milo's maturity level seemed to diminish with increased alcohol consumption. Thus was the mathematics of Milo's life.

He glanced up to make a snarky comment when his eyes met Matt. Oh. Serious face. Milo paled as some of his buzz began to dissipate and shakily stood, looking at his friend. He pulled up a chair and sat across from him, staring. Matt began to speak as Milo's heartbeat slowed and he relaxed. He was a still bit high strung when Matt proclaimed his fatherhood. Milo's face erupted into a grin and he held up a hand for a high five. "WICKED!"

But Matt continued on and the smile slipped off Milo's face as his hand heavily dropped onto his knee. "Monster? What do you mean like you? You're smart, funny, sexy as hell- what's wrong with you?" If there was something wrong with Matt, there was something horribly amiss with Milo.

Matt wasn't entirely in the mood for Milo's antics. Any other day he probably would have reciprocated with an eyebrow raise and maybe an ass wiggle. He simply looked at Milo with an arched eyebrow. "Feel the room." he said giving a small smile. Milo had always been his ONE confident in the manor. The only person he ever truly trusted and shared interests with. But even now, he wasn't sure if he was able to tell Milo about what he planned on doing. As far as he was concerned Milo was still fairly loyal. The ex-Gryffindor had never been fully welcomed considering his school life but loyalty was strong with most D'eath's.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. Slumping all the down so that a majority of his torso was off the chair. "Milo, I'm f*cked." he said simply. "I can't handle all this anymore." he gestured outwards. "The damage I'm doing. It's not, the feeling-" he couldn't put his tongue on the proper way to say anything. "I'm done." he finally said. He tilted his head to look at Milo. "My family has become my life. And it's like...it's like they've changed me. The good as rubbed off on me."

"I'm tired of being bad. I don't like it anymore." he said sadly. "I want out."

Now that Milo had decided to allow Matt some breathing room, he felt the chill of the library and the chill of Matt's presence. Typically, Matt was warm and inviting- even Death Eaters could be great best friends. But he felt closed off, guarded, inwardly reflective. It was this lonely realization that Milo was able to get a bit serious and sober up more quickly than he usually needed to.

He listened to Matt thoughtfully. Milo had never really considered himself bad since he rarely did any work. He had, however, done his share, enough to land him in Azkaban. But Milo had always assumed himself the minority for any doubts or regrets. He was a d'Eath, Matt was a Lestrange. He had not been aware they were allowed to want to get out of this situation.

"But... your family. I mean, if my dad wasn't who he was, I wouldn't have ever bothered. But it's sort of a rule that we do what is asked of us. Family honor and loyalty, right?"

Matt had expected a much more violent and animated reaction out of his friend. Did he consider Milo a friend? At this point in time could he really consider anyone friends. With the idea he had planted in his mind he was pretty sure he didn't have any. But Milo was different than the other Death Eater's. Milo was always there when Matt needed him and rarely left the Manor. Sure he ended up in Azkaban but really, who hasn't? He had always placed Milo above every other Death Eater. And he could tell in his eyes and the way he spoke, he wasn't buying any of what he was saying.

"Milo, my family hates me." he told him outright. "My Father doesn't know I exist, my Uncle only ever talks to me when he needs money, I didn't even know my own f*cking mother!" he told him standing up from the chair. "The only member of my family that has ever given any kind of crap about me is about to turn on me as well. If I know Bellatrix she's going to be the first one after me once I disappear off the map." he said angrily. He punched the fireplace out of frustration. He felt the warm trickle of blood run down his knuckles accompanied by pain. He didn't care though. He would never care anymore. His life was essentially over.

"And don't you dare tell me you believe any of the shit your spewing out of your mouth." he added, turning back to Milo. "You never even wanted to be here in the first place remember? Just because your Daddy's a D'eath doesn't mean you have to follow in his footsteps. Especially if it's something you know inside of you that's wrong. I know you better than anyone does Milo, come with me." he said. "Leave with me, you could stay with Emmy and I. She loves you, and the kids will want to meet their Godfather." he told him. He strayed away from the fireplace and towards Milo again. "You don't want to be here any more than I do, Milo..."

Milo found himself, for once in his short two decades or so of living, completely serious with the matter at hand. Jokes and puns were not rushing to the forefront of his brain; he was not smiling or smirking; he was not bored by this conversation. His focus and attention was solely fixed upon Matt and Matt's words.

Family. For how many Death Eaters did that one factor decide between loyalty and indifference? How many were loyal to family before the cause, which seemed to be one and the same? Milo had always found it easier to go along with the wishes of his family than to try and go against the flow.

Milo was shaken from his reverie by his friend's accusatory tone. His head snapped up and, as Matt spoke, he rose his hands up to the height of his shoulders, his mouth gaping against this assault he had never faced in his long history. He swallowed. Everyone took for granted that Milo was apart of the group. He was never on time, he slept during meetings, he joked, he flirted with the women- but he was still somehow valued. How had no one questioned him before?

"I know I don't have to be here- it's just... It's just much easier. All you will lose is Bellatrix. I will lose my entire family- I have a huge family. My dad, aunt, uncle, step mothers, cousins, half siblings- it's not that simple, Matt." Matt offered shelter and Milo dropped his forehead onto his palms, rolling his neck in frustration. Matt spoke again and Milo snapped, shouting, "I know that, Matt!" He paused, his shoulders drooping, before throwing his hands down in disgust. He sat back, staring at Matt. "They're going to come after us. They're going to try to kill us. You up for that?"

Matt's face fell during the silence that followed Milo's rebuttal. This whole time Matt had planned it for him. But Matt didn't want to have to go through it on his own. Asking Milo to come with him might have been asking for a bit too much. If not it was definitely selfish on him. Milo actually had a caring family, something Matt never had growing up. Sure, Matt was a little jealous of that but Milo was Matt's best mate. But Matt was getting tired, it was beginning to slowly tear Matt's heart apart. Knowing what he was doing while having a family very much like the one's he was destroying at home. It was too much to handle. The silence drew on then Milo spoke again, Matt grinned at his old friend.

"It wouldn't be any fun if they sat on their asses would it?" he asked him with a short chuckle. He wasn't sure if this was Milo agreeing to go with him or Milo simply asking him. Either way he figured he'd attempt to brighten up the conversation. It was a serious matter but getting serious with Milo was weird. It was a side of Milo Matt had never seen, ever. And Matt had seen every side of Milo that he had to offer, more than once. "Seriously mate, come with me." he said sitting back down in the chair.

Matt's response brought a wide, toothy smile to Milo's face. "I wouldn't have it any other way." On one hand, it was rotten, thinking of having all of the Death Eaters chasing him, including his own family. But the thrill of that adrenaline was so much more satisfactory, the freedom already lifting his spirit at the mere thought of outrunning the dark thoughts and doubts that had snuck up on him and began laying their heavy burdens of shame and fear onto his mind and psyche. And Milo had become wise lately, to his father's ways. His father, always lavishing gifts on the kids when they agreed to his ideals. He was, essentially, giving them doggy biscuits for good behavior. Well, it may put him in the dog house, but Milo would rather be human than his father's pet.

Matt spoke again, obviously seeking clarity on Milo's meaning. Milo had been so certain of his direction he had forgotten to enlighten his friend as to his change of heart. Milo was impulsive, but so many events had been growing and building to this, that he could never have left the Manor without banding together with his friend. Milo grinned at Matt, springing up and hopping back into Matt's lap again. "I'd never be able to leave you!" He grinned, before rolling off and falling into the dust again. He looked up at Matt, his smile fading as his brain began turning. "How do we do this then? Write a strongly worded letter or..."