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Title: Mind and Soul
Characters: Glitch/Ambrose-centric, but includes all the big 7. No really pairings, but maybe a hint of Glitch/Cain if you squint. Or possibly Glitch/Az. Or any number of things, really.
Rating: PG-13. A guy is getting his brain put back in his head. Mildly distressing subject-matter, neh?
Summary: Glitch's getting his brain back. It's not exactly an easy process. For any of them.
Disclaimer: No idea who owns, but it isn't me.
Word count: 3222
Mind and Soul
Glitch looked around him, and felt a sudden, powerful urge to start humming, or challenge Cain to a duel, or propose a game of canasta, whatever that was. Anything to break the pall of tension that had fallen over the drawing room, and it's long-faced occupants.
What was canasta?
Anyway!
He wouldn't have minded so much, maybe, if it hadn't all been directed at him. Well, maybe that wasn't true. He never liked it when people around him started panicking, because usually he was partly relying on them for reference to what was going on, in case he glitched. When they panicked, he lost a little more of his frame of reference, and that made him nervous, and being nervous made him more likely to glitch, and when he glitched and came back, they were panicking worse, and ... It was one of those vicious-cycle things he'd heard about. Decidedly unpleasant.
But sitting here, watching them all worry about him, about what was coming, made him want to scream. He was well aware of what was coming, thank you very much, and it was scaring him enough without all the doom and gloom. Without everyone being so obviously afraid for him. It was touching, sure, but right now he'd have taken a little blind optimism over well-meaning worry any day.
"Hey, headcase. You okay?"
Glitch jumped. When had Cain snuck up on him? And why? That was a nasty thing to do, to a man in his state! "What?" he snapped, and darted a look sideways up at the Tin Man as he stood over Glitch's chair. Cain only raised an eyebrow, as imperturbable as ever. Glitch nearly smiled at that. It took a lot to make Cain show worry.
"You've lost three more buttons fidgetting in the last ten minutes," the Tin Man observed wryly. "Almost makes me wonder if you might be worried."
Glitch looked away, mouth automatically pouting slightly, and deliberately trapped his twitchy fingers in clasped hands. "Well, since you asked," he opened, the words darting out in rapid breaths, "I might be a little ... concerned, yes. It's only natural, I would think. Under the circumstances." And he glared pointedly, aware that Raw and Azkadellia in particular were looking his way. DG and Ahamo were busy doing their best to distract the Queen. She was probably the worst affected of all of them.
Abruptly, Cain reached down to rest a hand lightly on his shoulder in support, and Glitch didn't so much jump as straighten in one whip-crack motion of shock. Cain hastily put his hand back by his side, as Glitch stared at him in amazement, and looked away uncomfortably.
"You know they're here for you. And DG and the Queen would kill anyone who tried to mess it up." The Tin Man was far from easy with giving comfort, and ordinarily Glitch would've teased him about it, but the words 'mess it up' had suddenly rooted themselves in his thoughts, and wouldn't leave. His breathing sped up, and he wrapped his hands tighter around each other. He wasn't going to think about it. He was not going to think about them messing up. About getting back on that table. About letting them ... about letting them strap him down to hold his head still so they could work. About ... about ... about ...
"... headcase? Glitch!" Cain's hand thumped his shoulder lightly, and pulled him out of the silent glitch. Glitch shook himself, one hand automatically reaching up to slap at the Tin Man's clasp on his shoulder, and blinked. He looked up into Cain's concerned face, and the Tin Man let out a breath of relief at the lucidity of his features. And masked it just as quickly with a frown. "That bad, huh?"
Something snapped a little inside Glitch, and he turned on his friend. "No! Not bad at all! In fact, I'm perfectly fine, Cain! I'll tell you what, why don't you step back inside your tin suit, so you'll know what it feels like! I promise I'll let you out again!" he said, low and venomously, with the harsh crackle of temper he'd been unable to hide on the Northern Island, ages ago. He glared up at Cain's face, and then, as all the colour fled from the Tin Man's features, he realised what he'd said. And looked away in shame.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, very quietly. There was silence for a long minute, while Glitch stared determinedly at the hole in his trousers over his knee, and did his best to ignore the concerned stares the others were sending their way. His fingers twisted themselves in the frayed edges of his cuffs, and tapped fretful patterns onto each other. He hadn't meant to hurt Cain.
Then Cain cleared his throat. "S'okay," he said, a little thickly. "I see what you mean." And Glitch huffed out a pent breath as his lips curved in a rueful smile, and he tugged his hands back apart to clap them on his knees. He looked up at them all.
"I'm sorry," he announced, smiling at the six worried faces. He shook his head wryly. "I seem to have been scared out of what's left of my wits. But you shouldn't worry!" He waved his arms gently, still smiling. "I know it'll be fine. What with all of you to look after me!" And, seeing the flash of guilt that flared in Azkadellia's eyes, he suddenly added: "Especially you, Azka-D!"
The ex-sorceress shot him a stunned look, then turned away. "I would have thought I'd be the last person you'd want near you for this," she murmured, and DG reached out over the arm of the sofa to clasp her hand reassuringly. Glitch smiled at them.
"Actually, he's the last person I'd ever want near me again," he explained, refering to the alchemist who'd unfortunately survived Raw's attack. Apparently, trying to electrocute a man through a rubber smock didn't work very well. Which was a pity, because both Glitch and Raw had rathered enjoyed the thought of such a deserved ending for the man. On the other hand, though, there was always the fact that if Raw had succeeded, Glitch wouldn't be getting his brain back. There was no-one else in the O.Z. with the skill to do what he could. Which, of course, meant that to get his brain back, Glitch had to let him ... He really was not going to think about it!
He shook off his panic, and looked back at Azkadellia. "It's good to know that the one person in the O.Z. who can scare him into cooperating is on my side, you see," he smiled, and she blushed, dipping her head while DG squeezed her hand. And for a few moments, everyone turned to watch the princesses, and left Glitch a space to breathe.
Well. Almost everyone.
"I can see what you're doing, you know," Cain murmured softly behind him. Glitch rolled his eyes.
"Yes. Selfish, isn't it?" he muttered back. "But it's not my fault I can't think if people are panicking! How am I supposed to calm myself down enough to do this if the rest of you look like it's my funeral or something!"
The Tin Man paused for a minute, thinking about that. Glitch didn't look at him. His attention was back on the nimble fingers he was weaving through the remains of his brocade, the flashing patterns soothingly simple and complex. And no, that wasn't an oxymoron, thanks. And neither was he. A moron, that is.
"You know, you don't have to go through with it," Cain said softly, and Glitch suppressed a triumphant smirk. He'd thought as much.
He knew that was a big part of what worried everyone. The Queen and Ahamo were terrified that Ambrose wouldn't come back, even after he got his brain. Cain was afraid that if Ambrose came back, Glitch wouldn't be Glitch anymore. Azkadellia ... well, Azka-D was just terrified that, no matter what happened, the damage she thought she'd caused would never go away. DG and Raw, he wasn't so sure, but he thought they were just sad he was hurting. He might just like them the most, right now, because of that.
But Glitch wasn't worried about that. He knew, in a way he'd probably glitch out trying to explain, that getting his brain back wasn't going to change who he was. He'd figured it out, when they were trying to shut down the sun-seeder. The part of him they'd stolen, that'd been just his memories, and the part of his brain that let him remember things. They were important memories, oh, very important memories, but they hadn't been him. Not the part that mattered. Not the soul. And the soul was what counted, he thought.
No. That part of it didn't worry him at all. It was the part where he had to ... where he had to willingly walk back into that room, get on that table ... The part where he had to force himself to reinact the scene that had plagued his nightmares ever since Raw and DG had helped him call it up in that cabin by the gorge. He wished ... he wished that'd been part of the memories they'd stolen. But that wouldn't make much sense, he supposed. Why take the memory of what was happening right now? That was just silly.
But he did know it worried the rest of them, the thought of who might be walking out afterwards. And he didn't know how to reassure them. He had no idea what he was supposed to say to the Queen. If he'd had his other memories he might, but Glitch had never known her, and in some part of him that was left over from his days as an Advisor, there was a persistant idea that a common headcase like him shouldn't be too familiar with royalty. Except DG, of course. She was different. But ... He smiled. He might just know how to reassure Cain.
"Hey, Tin Man," he called softly. He slid a sly glance Cain's way. "You remember when we first met?"
Cain frowned at him, probably wondering if this was heading in a maudlin direction, and if so, how he could get out of it. "Yeah?" he answered, warily. Glitch's mouth twitched.
"You remember I told that I had a real name, and I'd be sure to tell you when I remembered?" His smirk widened as Cain's brows drew down consideringly. "You've been very rude, you know. I told you before, when we were fixing the sun-seeder, and you still haven't called me Ambrose!"
Cain opened his mouth to retort testily, then closed it again while he thought. Glitch grinned up at him. That was one smart Tin Man! He knew Cain would figure it out, if he gave him enough hints. Glitch was Ambrose, even without his brains, but more importantly to Cain, Ambrose was also Glitch. Or would be, soon enough. And he'd quite like to be called by his proper name, thanks all the same.
Before Cain could muster a sarcastic reply, though, two men came into the room, wearing the white rubber smocks of alchemists. The entire room stood to attention, save Glitch, and he couldn't help but stiffen in terror. This was it. This was it. Don't glitch. Don't glitch.
"You know," he said quietly, conversationally, as he pulled himself shakily to his feet. "I really wish I wasn't doing this." But he straightened himself, raised his head proudly, that scene by the lake all over again, and smiled a bit when their expressions changed to something that looked as shaky as his knees currently felt. Facing the grim features that haunted his dreams, he walked over to the door, DG and Azkadellia following him.
And as he stepped through, he heard Cain call after him. "Hey, headcase!" Deliberately antagonistic. "See you on the other side, okay?"
And Glitch smiled. That sure was one smart Tin Man, alright.
***
His fingers shook as he fastened the gold brocade on his new coat. He knew he very probably should not be up yet. His head was in that horrible, tingly place between fading numbness and wakening pain, and he was going to have the grandfather of all headaches in an hour or so. He wasn't quite sure how long he'd been out, but it was morning now, and it had been evening then, and it was probably more than one night ago. But he didn't care. He could not lie alone with his jumbled thought for one more second. He just couldn't.
When his clothing had finally decided to cooperate, he raised his head and took a moment or twelve to just breathe, getting ready for the next step. Standing up. And what a big step it was. He hadn't felt this helpless since the first couple of days after his first operation. Thankfully, though, this time he had a bed and a room to himself, instead of a cell full of taunting longcoats, followed by that lovely period face-down in the dirt outside the tower. It was just a little difficult to retain any dignity with a zipper in your head and a puddle beneath your face. But he'd certainly tried for it.
Right. On three ...
He grabbed the bedpost to steady himself as the room swayed alarmingly. Breathe. Just breathe. The world will stop spinning in a moment. Just wait ...
And thankfully, it did. In fact, it settled itself with a decisive bump that he swore he could feel inside his skull, and for a second he wondered if it was his brain settling and not the world at all. It would be about time, if it was.
He gathered himself, spine instinctively stiffening, and smiled as his fingers automatically began to fiddle with one cuff. The bad habits of two very different lives, and he had them all. He just hoped he could restrain himself in the right places. Some of the things he'd picked up as a wandering headcase were not likely to go down well once they got the court up and running. Then again ... Glitch might do the court some good, actually. Something to consider, right up there with whether or not he actually wanted to stay at court in the first place. But that could come later. First, there was something he needed to do.
He had guessed on the morning room. It was early enough for them to still be at breakfast. And as he approached the half-open doors, he smirked at the sound of DG and Cain sniping gently at each other, with the Queen's voice in the background trying to smooth things over. Right again.
A stunned and nervous silence fell as he stepped through the doors, and he smiled crookedly at them where they sat frozen. DG and Cain at the far side of the table, a bit of toast in the princess' fingers about to fall, the Queen and Ahamo naturally at its head, looking striken, Raw at the other end, smiling knowingly at him, and Azkadellia turning in her chair to look at him. For a second, he just looked back, and then surrendered to a terrible urge, and his first instinct for many years. When in doubt, introduce yourself.
"Hi there!" he said brightly. "I'm Glitch. Have we met?"
The effect was electric. DG and Cain looked confused, wary, and in Cain's case like he was torn between relief and disappointment. The Queen turned her head into Ahamo's shoulder, pain in her eyes. Raw's expression turned censorious, the Viewer decidedly not approving. And Azkadellia ... Azkadellia looked like he'd just shot her.
Ambrose let his smile turn rueful, and stepped softly into the room. "Forgive me," he said softly, bowing slightly. "That was a very childish thing to do. I'm sorry."
The Queen raised her head at that, turning to look at him with a flare of hope. "Ambrose?" she asked, quavering. Ahamo squeezed her shoulder gently, and glared at him for having hurt her. And Ambrose couldn't blame him.
"Indeed, your majesty," he murmured, and then tilted his head with a grin. "Well. More or less, anyway. It's good to see you again." She smiled at that, pressing a hand to her lips while tears gathered in her eyes. He was at her side almost immediately, holding out a handkerchief in a very Glitch-like gesture of comfort. He'd learned a lot more about that on his travels, too. She took it, and smiled waterily at him. He reached out to pat her hand gingerly, ignoring Ahamo's gentle glare, and turned back to the others. To Azkadellia, first.
"I am sorry, princess," he repeated, softly. "Can you forgive me?"
She swallowed, shaking her head as if words just wouldn't come, and her proud features settled into an expression he couldn't read. When she looked at him, her eyes were as bright with tears as her mother's. "Can I forgive you?" she murmured, and looked pointedly at the scar that ran across his head, and always would. "I think you've got that backwards, Advisor."
He knelt at her side, grateful for the courtly manners he now remembered, and took her hand gently. "Az, princess," he murmured fondly, and smiled broadly. "Don't be absurd." He kissed her hand as she laughed, and smirked just a little when she nudged his shoulder in retaliation.
And then, it was their turn. His friends. Through thick and thin. He stood, taking in their faces. DG, smiling at his antics, happy that he was happy. Raw, exuding that comforting air of solid empathy, tinged by censure, and warmed by happiness. And Cain, with the worry still hiding behind his eyes, uncertainly happy for him. A more ecclectic and ridiculous bunch he could never have imagined finding common ground, and no fact gave him more joy, half a brain or whole, than the fact that they had.
He walked slowly around the table, pausing to rest a hand on Raw's hairy shoulder, until he came to a stop behind Cain and DG. Putting a hand on either chair, he leaned over them and looked from one curious face to the other. And smirked.
"Hey, Tin Man, are those eggs? You plan to share with your old pal, right?" Reaching in for Cain's fork, and grinning from ear to ear when the testy ex-cop slapped his questing hand aside.
"Get your own, headcase!" Cain growled, and the world settled around him with another of those thumps, but he didn't mind this time. He pulled in a deep breath, puffing out his chest with the happiness of the moment, and grinned like an idiot while DG struggled to hold in a laugh, and Cain's neck went red with a mix of embarrassment and the kind of joy he just wasn't going to be persuaded to show, but that didn't matter. Raw was beaming his taciturn friend's joy for all to see, and Ambrose knew Cain enough to see it anyway.
He sat down, between Raw and Azkadellia, and piled into his own eggs with relish, whole in himself at last. And when Cain raised his eyes just long enough to smirk, and say pointedly : "Good to see you're your old self, Ambrose", he only smirked back.
"It's like the rhythm, Tin Man," he waved his fork condescendingly. "Some things ..."
"Come directly from the soul," Cain finished, rolling his eyes.
And the soul was all that mattered.
