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[amicably_absent]

Glitch had been absent for two days.

Moreso than in the usual way, he had spent two days with the alchemists and medics and Raw, the comforting presence of his friend connecting him to the current problem.

They'd talked it over. Him, the alchemist and Ambrose. Except he and Ambrose didn't really talk, being as how he was Ambrose, except that he wasn't and that was really part of the problem, except when it wasn't.

It was enough to give anyone a headache.

He had asked them to give him time. To think about it. Everyone had agreed to give him his space and he had gone to think.

Thinking, as it turned out, meant sitting up on the railing of a balcony, looking over the O.Z. and finding that for once, he didn't glitch and forget.

The one time he wouldn't have minded it.

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[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

At the very end and not one moment sooner does Cain let out his held breath. He doesn't see that there's actually a choice to make. It isn't a choice anyone should be forced to make, but that holds true for a lot of choices the past fifteen annuals.

And through it all, he can't for the life of him fathom why he's filling up with such anger.

"You guess?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"It's not an exact science, Wyatt!" And if Cain's angry, Glitch just seems helplessly frustrated by it all. "Debrainment's meant to be a one way street, so no, I don't know! I don't know if I'm going to wind up frying my brain worse than it already is or if I'm just going to wind up back at square one every day!"

He takes several angry steps, then turns, coat twisting and swinging around him and stalks back. "I'm more scared 'n I was facing down the Papay, but I can't not try, so yes, I guess my memory will stay pretty holey and funny but at least I might be able to dress myself in less than half an hour."

He steps away, turns around and back in Cain's face. "At least I might be able to dress myself in less than half an hour."

He goes to step away again.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

For just the briefest moments, Cain is fully prepared for the fight boiling in his veins and pressing behind his eyelids. He's frustrated beyond belief, and angered in full measure by the unfairness of life after Azkadellia's possession. Life isn't supposed to be about choosing the lesser of two evils.

But then Glitch gets stuck on repeat. And Cain knows with the certainty of irrefutable fact that he's responsible. He found a nerve and pushed it too hard. Again.

When Glitch comes back round, Cain takes hold of his upper arms, and looks him in the eyes. "I know. I know you're scared, I'm scared too. We're all scared, Glitch.

"I'm sorry."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glicth pauses, trying to work out how Cain knew what he was about to say and comes to one irrefutable conclusion within seconds. "I glitched again, didn't I?"

His frustration and anger deflates, head hanging as he seems for a second to only be upright by the hands on his arms, though he doesn't buckle at all, nor need support standing up. "It's not your fault, Wyatt. It's not anyone's fault but that horrible witch and the bad people who did what she wanted and enjoyed it."

Yes, Cain is left facing his zipper as Glitch talks to his chest. "It's not your fault."

It's not a glitch. The tone is different. It's just normal repitition.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Cain just nods, his brow furrowed in a rare show of emotion, as if the anger and frustration has etched itself into his skin, even if only for a little while.

"I know." He steps in, simply because he wants to, even if it means they're hugging each other in the courtyard; even if it means he'll feel the zipper on his skin.

"It's no one's fault but the witch's."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Which is part of why Glitch doesn't want to look up; look and see that anger and frustration on Wyatt's face. His hands curl into the leather of Wyatt's coat, holding onto him while he keeps staring and he can feel the warmth of his skin flushing the metal to temporary comfort.

"I'm taking the processing. I've lived this long without clear memories. I don't need to always remember. I don't want to, but I can. I can't live with the stupid things. Like not being able to work out buttons. I'm still going to be a headcase but- it'll be better than it is."

Assuming they can reverse it and they wind up killing him... or worse.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"It'll be better. You'll get new memories every day."

Assuming... No, trusting it's reversible. Believing the alchemists won't kill him.

He can't die. He can't die, because Cain won't let him. If he dies, Cain will kill him. First the alchemists, then Glitch, fair and square.

"I'll be there, if you want me to." He told Glitch he'd make the offer again, and it's a promise he's more than able to keep.

"Make sure the guys in robes know what's what."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I won't necessarily remember them, but I'll get them." Memory like swiss cheese, but he'll be able to think again. Maybe even access what he has better.

"I think I'd like that. They're... scheduling it in as soon as possible. Before there's any more deterioration. So they can put as much as possible back."

They wanted tomorrow. "Probably the day after tomorrow."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"You remember things, Glitch. You process things differently, but you remember."

Just in a different way from most other people. It isn't the first time Cain has wondered if that isn't part of why there are so few zipperheads alive still. Maybe there's something special with Glitch's brain - or his debrainment - apart from the obvious.

"I'll be there. But for now... We have to get a move on if we're ever gonna go for that walk."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch had a lot of sheer thinking power before his operation. More left afterwards to keep thinking with.

Or maybe, it was dumb luck.

He finally lets go of Cain and steps back around alongside him. "Yeah. Walking's good."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Walking is good. So, that's what they do.

Cain, just like he's told Glitch, doesn't really have any destination in mind. Not out of any notion that the journey is what matters and not where you're going to end up, but because he doesn't see why you even need a destination to begin with.

It's more a matter of ending up wherever you stop walking. You never know what's waiting for you, when you do.

He falls silent beside his friend, righting his hat and feeling like he's talked enough to last him at least a few hours.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Normally, Glitch will chatter. He'll aimlessly ramble for hours about anything that takes his fancy and things that don't and anything that his fragmented mind wanders to with no real thought for the topic or meaning.

He's quiet today. He's thinking. He's not thinking, he's immersing himself in the sights and sounds and not running over the same things over and over like - "-some kind of self inflicted glitch. Or maybe I used to do this before. Run it over and over in my head. It's not a glitch. But it sort of feels like it."

He doesn't know how long he's been quiet, just thinking.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Nothing wrong with repetition," Cain notes, arching one eyebrow at the other man, but doesn't offer much else by way f conversation.

Doesn't feel like there's anything he can say to change things for the better. No matter what he says, Glitch has a decision to make, and surgery in less than two days from now.

"You..." He presses his lips together, glaring at nothing in particular. You can't glare at words, or how difficult it is to let them out.

"You're one of my closest friends, Glitch. I don't see why it'd need telling, but I figure you should get to hear it from me." Even if he won't remember. He won't say that, not when the air between them is thick with unspoken and long forgotten things.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

With the softly spoken 'you', Glitcch looks over, eyes dark and serious.

"I know, Wyatt. You don't need to tell me. I might not always remember your name, Tinman, but I remember that." It's what leads him back to his name each time. The warmth in those cold eyes, even if there's no warmth when he looks at them sometimes.

"Thanks."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He gives one stiff nod, only glancing at Glitch, eyes lowered for some reason to take in the coat.

Now that it's not just hanging forgotten in his closet, now that it's actually become part of Glitch, it seems wrong somehow. Ominous. It was never supposed to be that way, of course, but with the reinsertion of Ambrose approaching with such urgency, it feels rather like the end of all things familiar.

New beginnings are all well and good, but Cain would have much preferred it if Glitch had a say in what new leaf to turn.

"You're welcome, zipper head."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

The darker colours and soft details were probably DG's idea, but the way Cain is looking at the coat, like it's some kind of enemy or something wrong, has Glitch starting to crawl in his skin.

"Wyatt...?" Hesitant and soft, hand reaching and then drawing back before he touches in a far too familiar way. Instinct telling him not to touch things, he might get burnt. "You okay?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He swallows back the 'No, I'm not' burning at the back of his head, and turns his eyes to face forward. Getting angry didn't make him feel any better last time, it won't now.

"I'm fine." Clipped is a good word for his tone of voice.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I'm damaged, not dumb."

Which wasn't the right thing to say, but he's frustrated, because he doesn't know if he can cope with how he feels, let alone how Cain feels right now and he doesn't know why Cain is so angry.

"You know, Cain..." He didn't know what. "I think the O.Z. has been broken for so long that we don't know how to start putting ourselves back together."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"I'm not talking at you like you're dumb!" Snapped, the anger sparking for a split second. "I'm talking like I'm not about to have spur of the moment heart-to-hearts just because you show some consideration for what goes on inside my head."

For being angry, he has what must be the single most annoyingly level tone of voice. He won't let it out. He won't let it out, because Glitch is right.

"Yeah..." He sighs, eyes trained on the ground for the space of a heartbeat. Cease fire.

"It'll take years for the scars to fade."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch realises something abruptly.

He's angry.

He clamps down on it. By literally clamping down and dropping to the ground with another huff that deflates out all the damned, useless emotion.

"No one deserved this. The O.Z. didn't deserve it."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

If only it was that simple for him to let go. But being locked up in an iron suit, you learn to hold on. Unfortunately, it isn't always a good thing to learn.

Like now, where he almost wants to dunk his head into the stream nearby just to cool down. He keeps metaphorical watch, standing as straight as a ramrod.

"I can name a few who did. The O.Z isn't one of them."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Say it."

He knows what he means. His name. He's betting Cain can't say it, not like this. "His name."

He stands up slowly, awkwardly, staggering sideways before catching his footing.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He swallows, his throat suddenly too dry. He can't. Not with Adora's death still lingering. Not when he's been brought to justice and it didn't change anything. Nothing changed.

"I can't. Won't make a lick of difference."

Not when he deserved it, but got nothing but a purse lined with gold and a chance to indulge his sadistic tendencies.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

An almost ominous wind blows through the gardens, whipping their coats. Glitch can feel it tugging his hair, chilling the metal zip.

"Do it. Or do you subscribe to the belief that names have power?"

He can't stop himself. Like nails at a scab.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

His chest feels too tight, his spine like a coil wound too tightly and ready to spring at any second now.

"Why do you care so much?" It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't have to say it on Glitch's whim. What will it change? It won't. Change. Anything.

"You think saying his name will cure me of my boyscout syndrome?"

Sarcasm may be the lowest form of wit, but it makes a fine shield any day.