The next evening, Dova came home to find an all too familiar scene. Frozen in the doorway, for a minute it seemed he must have gone through some malevolent time warp. Because this was another first for them: the first time Law had attacked Milo two days in a row. He always waited at least a week, usually more like two.

"For god's sake! What's wrong with you?" Dova said, hurrying over to the couch where his brother lay. Law moved aside wordlessly. He looked pale and shaken, but right now Dova didn't give a damn. "Milo? Come on, wake up!"

"I'm sorry", Law said tensely. "You gotta believe me, I swear I didn't mean to-"

"Shut up! Go get some warm water and a towel."

Law hurried off down the hall while Dova shook his brother's shoulder. He was breathing, but he wouldn't respond. He wouldn't wake up. "Sorry about this", Dova muttered, before taking Milo's hand and digging his nails into the palm. Milo's hand jerked a little in Dova's grip. Grimly, Dova dug in harder. He hoped he wasn't making things worse, but he had no idea what the proper way to wake an unconscious person might be.

Law returned and put the pan of water and a hand towel on the table before backing off a few steps. Dova ignored him. His fingernails had drawn blood before Milo opened his eyes.

"Hey", Dova said softly. "Stay awake, okay?" He sat back on his heels, at a loss for what to do or say next.

Milo pulled his hand away, laying his left arm across his chest.

"Say something", Dova said uneasily.

"Fine. What should I say?" Milo's voice was hoarse, barely louder than a whisper.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence. Dova cleared his throat and, trying for a business-like tone, said, "Alright, let's get you cleaned up." Hesitating, he glanced automatically at Law, then away again. "Um, you okay to do this? Need any help?"

Milo's eyes had closed again, but just as Dova was reaching out to shake him he said hoarsely, "No. I'm alright. Going to my room."

Dova stepped back and watched anxiously as Milo struggled to get up. He wasn't moving the right arm at all, and his motions seemed jerky and uncoordinated.

"Boss-", Law started, and Dova held up a hand to silence him.

"Not now."

Once he was on his feet, Milo haltingly made his way across the room and down the hall. Mentally shaking himself, Dova grabbed the water and the towel and followed him. He set the items on Milo's night stand and turned to face his brother, who was bracing himself against the wall. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

"Yeah. Just wanna be alone, okay?"

"Alright. You rest. I'll bring you something to eat later. Everything's okay now, Milo."

Milo nodded. "You're right, Dova. Everything's fine."

It was a strange thing to say, and there was something wrong with his tone of voice. But what else was there to do? Dova left, shutting the door behind him.

Law was sitting against the wall in the living room, right where he had left him. Dova sat down a few feet away and said, "Explain."

"I should leave. Shouldn't I?"

Quickly losing patience, Dova said, "Maybe so. Now quit with the self-pitying bullshit and explain."

Law actually flinched a little. "I had a flashback", he murmured. "It wasn't Milo I was beating up. I mean, I didn't think it was. I swear, boss, I didn't see him. It was- it was someone else."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Jail. Someone from there."

Dova dropped his head into his hands, sighing. After a moment he spoke, without looking up. "I don't know what to do. I can't let you keep hurting Milo every night. But I can't always be here to keep an eye on things, either. Maybe you should see a shrink."

"I can't! They'll lock me up! Please, boss, I don't wanna be locked up again. Please."

"Don't beg", Dova said, his voice sharper than he intended. Wearily, he continued, "This isn't jail!"

"I know. Of course I know that." He sounded embarrassed and chagrined, now.

Dova was silent for a long moment. An idea had occurred to him. He didn't like it, but right now it seemed like the only chance he had of salvaging this. Here goes…

"Who's in charge, Law?"

Law looked up. Warily, he said, "What, boss?"

"Who's in charge?"

Law stared at him, something dark flickering in his gaze. Slowly, he replied, "You're in charge."

"That's right. Of you and Milo. And if you touch him again without my permission, you're going to be very fucking sorry. Understand?"

"Yes, boss."

Dova stood up and regarded his troubled friend. He felt like the king of the jerks. Milo and Law were his only companions. But walking this tightrope everyday was exhausting. Unbidden, the thought that he couldn't do this much longer flitted across his mind.

Milo was right now lying on his bed, beaten and bloody, and he hadn't been able to prevent it. Hell, he hadn't even helped him get to his room afterward. Declaring that everything was fine, which must have sounded so stupid to Milo, he'd just left him there to deal with it as well as he could.

Now, here he was standing over Law, who sat pressed against the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest, gazing at the floor. They'd never talked about it, but Dova hadn't been born yesterday. He knew damn well what had happened to Law in prison, even if he didn't have the details. But he'd gone ahead anyway and purposefully used that knowledge to dominate him and threaten him.

What the hell was I supposed to do? It's not like they gave me much choice.

"Hey", he said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. "Go to bed, okay?"

Law obeyed him. He didn't look at him, and he didn't speak. He just obeyed. Dova watched him go and then went to Milo's room. He knocked softly and called, "You alright?"

An affirmative response came back. Dova debated getting drunk, decided it wasn't worth the hangover, and headed for bed. It was still early, but he didn't feel like eating or trying to watch TV. He didn't sleep well that night, constantly troubled by nightmares in which Law killed Milo over and over.