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"Milla," Sasha said. "I think we have to talk."
*Oh no.* Milla thought. The two of them were telepathic partners. If Agent Nein actually said "we need to talk" out loud, there was something seriously wrong.
"Milla... I'm going to have to leave you for a little while."
Agent Vodello bit her lip.
"Now, this isn't to say we aren't still partners. We are. But..."
Milla hovered in Sasha's living room, her arms folded and her legs crossed tightly across her levitation bubble. *Waiting for the other shoe to drop.*
*Very funny, Vodello. What, with me being the son of a shoemaker, and all.* Sasha thought.
*Darling, I don't want to fight-*
*This isn't about that. Not really.*
Milla breathed a sigh of relief. Sasha took a drag from his cigarette.
"When I say I'm going to 'leave' you for a bit, I'm being serious. You're going to have to operate on your own for a little while."
"How long is a little while?" Milla asked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.
Sasha stared at her, stone faced. She tried her best to poke and prod her way into his mind, looking for the answer.
"I don't know," he finally admitted. "But I've got a very important meeting I've got to go to in Berlin. It's dangerous, dubiously ethical, and you can't come with me."
"But-"
*My love, please. It's for your own safety.*
Milla fidgeted with her gloves. Sasha took her by the hand and steadied her. It was unusual for Sasha to take the initiative like this. Especially when- it was obvious he wasn't doing very well. His cheekbones jutted out, his ribs were protruding, and he wasn't even on heroin this time around. Milla had known him a long time, and the two were psychically linked, but it was still hard for her to see him like this.
"Before I go," he whispered. "I have a gift for you."
Milla perked up. There was a rare sincerity and warmth in his eyes. She got off her levitation bubble and walked to where Sasha Nein stood.
A flush came to his cheeks - normally pale like a corpse. Milla could easily tell Sasha was flustered.
"A specialty-made German fountain pen. I got it on my last trip to Berlin."
He pressed it into her hands.
"I want you to have this," he said. "Write with it for as long as you need to. It was mine, and now it's yours."
"Oh, Darling- my darling Sasha!" Milla threw her hands around him and showered him with kisses. "You didn't have to-"
"I *want* you to have it." he said, a little more firmly this time. "It is a gift."
"It's beautiful," she said, kissing him.
"I hope-" he said, choking back tears. "-- I hope you find it adequate."
Milla lifted a hand to wipe away his tears. Sasha leaned in close. Milla extended her empty hand to him. She didn't have to say anything. His own hands shaking, Sasha took hold of the edge of Milla's glove, and peeled it off.She took hold of the fountain pen in her ungloved hand. She extended her other arm. Sasha carefully removed Milla's other glove. Before he could say- or think- anything, she slipped her free hand under the flared leather cuff of his left-hand glove.
*That's better,* she purred in his mind.
*Milla, I-*
She pushed her delicate fingers slowly upwards. Nein hadn't realized it, but since losing weight, the gloves were too big for his hands. The leather hung loosely off his fingertips, and Milla Vodello had squeezed her way right in.
*Always so busy with your studies. Your little research projects and experiments.* She thought. She was taunting him.
"Milla-"
She had slipped the pen in between their palms. Sasha froze, his heartbeat thudding in his ears.
*It was supposed to be her gift-*
*I'm right here, darling. I can hear you.* Milla gave him a psychic nudge. *I still remember a few card tricks, you know. From when we were children.*
*I- Milla- Milla-*
She pulled off his other glove from the top. Their fingers intertwined.
*Why won't you just take the pen, Milla?*
*Oh, don't you see, Sasha? I already have.*
She took his hand and placed it on her chest. Sasha inhaled sharply. He could still feel the pen in his hand, but-
Milla kissed him. *Hold me closer, darling.*
Sasha was suddenly aware of his own breathing.
"I love you." he said.
"I love you too." she said.
The Morning After...
Sasha stretched out in bed next to Milla. It felt good to be around her.
He nestled his head in her silky long brown hair. She smelled... fresh. He wanted to linger in this peaceful moment just a little while longer before bringing up what was on his mind.
"Milla?" he said, a low rumble in his voice.
She stirred from her side of the bed. "Yes, darling?"
She was still lying on her side, facing away from him. Sasha paused, catching his breath. *She was so beautiful...* he thought. He didn't want to disturb the peace. But even after a night with Milla Vodello, Sasha Nein found himself sleepless.
"Milla," he whispered. "I -- I can't stop thinking about the orphanage."
He felt Milla tense up. This was a painful subject for her. She said nothing.
"What if... what if we could rebuild it?"
Milla rolled over in bed, turning to face him. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Darling, stop it--"
Sasha paused and looked at her somberly. His glasses were off. They made eye contact.
"The children in-"
"Darling, don't--" Milla started to get choked up. She threw up a psi-shield, pushing him away. Sasha knew better than to get *too* close to her when she was like this.
He stood up out of bed and began to get dressed. First his pants, then a plain white undershirt. He lingered in the closet while Milla stayed in bed, curled in fetal position.
*You know why I have to talk to you about this,* he thought.
Sasha hated seeing her like this. When Milla Vodello, world-renowned party girl, started to shut down and compartmentalize in bed.. well, you didn't have to be a doctor of psychology (or even a Psychonaut) to tell that something was wrong.
Besides, they were partners. It wasn't that Milla was an open book- far from it- but usually she and Sasha didn't keep secrets from each other. Not *that* many secrets, anyway.
Sasha stole another glance back at Milla while he was buckling up his belt. He set his jaw and looked down at his feet.
*The mention of the orphanage must have sent her deep into some sort of trauma response.* He thought to himself. He felt a small twinge of guilt. He may not have been the one who burned down the orphanage, but he still brought up the topic. And he was going to have to rub salt further in that wound. Being a Psychonaut was not an easy job.
Sasha sat down on the mattress next to Milla . He gently placed his hand on her shoulder.
*Should I go in?* Sasha thought.
Milla began to stir again with signs of life. She dropped the psi-shield.
Sasha took that as an invitation. He removed the Psycho-Door from his pant pocket and gently placed it on the back of Milla's head.
Sasha found himself at the dance party again. He tracked down-- no, he was *pulled* towards Milla in the mental landscape. Towards the memories of Milla's children. There he found her.
Milla had heavily compartmentalized anything to do with the orphanage, but it was easy for a professional like Sasha to pinpoint the location of trauma within her mind. Besides, no one could compartmentalize like Sasha Nein.
No one.
"Nightmares again?" he said.
Milla was standing in a cage made of red-hot iron with a slightly sloped floor leading toward a hole at the bottom. Outside of the cage, the souls of dead children danced in flames, whispering. Crying. Pleading for help. The Brazilian woman stood tall at the locked gate of the cage, her gaze fixed on the outside.
"Is that your attempt at humor?" she asked, dryly. Her gaze did not move.
"I just... needed to talk. Honestly." Sasha Nein said.
Milla stared at the flickering flames.
"Why?" she asked. "Why now?"
Milla whipped around suddenly. "Sasha, darling, why don't we just leave this silly place and go back to partying? You and me, together?"
She looked him up and down for a moment. "You aren't fully dressed." She noted.
"I know." Sasha said. *It was embarrassing, to not be fully clothed, even in the mental landscape.* "You seemed like you needed me- and quickly."
"I wouldn't have *needed* anything if you hadn't-" she sighed and put her fingers to her temple. "Why, Sasha? After such a wonderful night? Why *this*?"
Sasha blinked a couple times and stared downwards. The screams of the children echoed in his ears.
"It was the only way I knew I could get you to listen."
Milla Vodello folded her arms.
"Perhaps the nightmares will never go away, Milla. But we cannot allow our own traumas to lead to inaction." Sasha swallowed a dry lump in his throat. "There are... a lot of war orphans, Milla." he croaked.
She stared back at him. More than anything else, he felt naked without his eyeglasses.
"A *lot* of war orphans."
Milla's eyes began to water again. "I know," she said.
"Please, Milla."
"Not you, too! I aleady have the ghosts of these poor children screaming at me that I didn't do enough, and now you're accusing me too?!"
"Not at all, darling," Sasha said. "You've done incredible things, Milla. Wondrous things." He took her by the hand. "Sometimes I can't even believe you're my partner." He ran his thumb over her palm gently.
The children's screams continued to echo in their minds. Sasha pulled away... He wasn't wearing his gloves.
"If not you, Milla, then who? If not us? If not now, then when?"'
Milla buried her face in Sasha's chest. She held him close for a moment.
"We can't do this alone, you know."
"I know. But I don't trust the others at the Psychonauts agency to do it right now." Sasha scowled. "I respect Ford as a Psychonaut, but a task of this magnitude? Forget about it."
"I think I understand." Milla sighed and took Sasha by the arm.
"Look," she said, pointing to the inferno of souls outside of the cage. "There's more of them than usual."
They locked eyes again. Both of them were crying now. Sasha and Milla understood what this meant. They embraced.
"Ford be damned, Truman be damned, we're re-building that orphanage. Milla, my darling, my sweet, I promise we will make sure those children have a place to go after the war."
Milla nodded.
"Sasha," she whispered. "What if... What if the members of the Senior's League shoot us down.-"
Sasha waved his hand. "They're both getting old. Besides, Truman's daughter is dating Razputin."
Milla nodded. Nobody liked to say it, but Razputin meant a lot more to the Psychonauts than anyone was willing to admit.
"I have contacts," she said. "Party contacts, obviously." Milla laughed at her own joke. The screams seemed to get quieter, just for a moment. "I'll see what they can do."
Sasha blinked slowly and put on his glasses. "Let's get out of here, shall we?" he said, gesturing toward the hole in the floor.
*I'll see you again after Berlin,* he thought, grabbing her hand. Milla nodded again.
They jumped.