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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.

Comments

[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.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Because I don't think you say it. Because you're wound tighter than a coil in a deep pressure clock and you're so scared that his name might break that Tinman cool you've got going there."

The wind hit them again. Glitch kept watching Cain.

"I think if you say, you'll let go. And that's terrifying."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He doesn't. He hasn't since Jeb and him brought him back. Hasn't given it or him much thought since the trial in Central City.

He shivers in the wind, shivers in spite of the surge of fury and frustration that Glitch just won't give it a rest.

It is terrifying. Crippling enough that he doesn't know whether to fight or walk away, but he can't move. He can't move a muscle, or he might do something he'll regret.

"Back off, Glitch." It's a warning, given freely only because they're friends. Even when Glitch is being a bastard.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Or what?"

Maybe... Glitch needs a reason to feel something. Because he hasn't really since they discussed Ambrose. Since he was Ambrose, earlier today. "What'll you do? Shoot me? You won't shoot me, Wyatt."

It feels twisted up, using his name while doing this. Being a bastard.

"Why won't you stop me, if you want me to back off?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

This is the thanks. This is what he gets for trying to be considerate, for trying not to say things that will make Glitch's neurons or synapses or whatever it is he calls them firing wrong. He gets taunting and snide comments and insights into what makes him tick that he'd rather not have anyone know about but him.

"Because I'm not Zero!" When he finally says it, when he finally snaps and pushes it out, it's with the raw emotion of a man grasping at his last straw and giving up.

"Because I'm better than that." His throat's tightening, relentless like a noose. "Because I don't shoot my friends no matter how--"

He'd better stop talking now. And he'd better start walking away, because he doesn't need to have anyone gloating about the cracks in his mask. Not to his face.

His eyes burn. His throat burns. He moves to the stream.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch catches Cain by the arm, pulling him back towards him. He doesn't care that he might get hit, he's been waiting for this.

"Yes." His voice is soft. "You are. You're a good friend. You won't even start a fight with me when I'm trying."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

And Cain goes along with it, like he so often does. Reluctantly. Not quite as patiently as normally.

He could've taken that much, but Glitch's voice isn't just soft. It's too soft and too compassionate, and Cain can't make himself look at him. For the longest of moments, he can't talk; he won't let himself until he's certain his voice will carry.

"Damn you, Glitch. Since when are you such a bastard?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Since it feels like bits of me I didn't know I had feel shredded and I know this emotion and I can see it in you, but I can't work out exactly what it is right now, but maybe..."

He shrugs helplessly.

"I feel chewed like Tutor's dinner, and you look like I feel and you were staring at me like I was wrong or something Otherside and-" He rests his head on the point of Cain's shoulder. "It was weird and it made me angry. At you. I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Not you." It's an important distinction, even if he doesn't feel up to trying to explain. He isn't sure he can. "The coat. This whole mess is wrong."

And the coat drove it through like a nail through a plank. Whether he realizes or not, he drifts closer; one step, another half a step.

"It wasn't your fault either, Sweetheart."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch cocks his head, and then realises.

"I thought... you said I needed a new coat. You were the one convinced me to get it." He screws his eyes shut and shakes his head, rolling it on Cain's shoulder. "Doesn't matter.

"Thank you."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He can still feel the ill wind chilling his bones. It's disconcerting; it makes him long for warmth. The stench of iron is in his nose, too far up for him to breathe it out.

"You do. You need a new coat." He takes a deep breath, ignoring the figments of his imagination. Glitch's hair certainly doesn't smell like iron.

But the zipper does.

"It's a good coat, and you needn't thank me. It just--" He isn't sure how to explain. He doesn't think he's got the proper words for it. Won't stop him trying, not when he'd shiver from the cold if only he remembered how. He can't have a lake of ice between them. He won't.

"I can remember a time when you weren't forced to choose between a bad thing and something worse. Rubs me the wrong way you can't."

Whether he means you in general, or you, Glitch, is entirely up to interpretation. It's perfectly possible he means both.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch doesn't really mind what he means, so long as he's being sincere and so very righteously angry about it. Righteous for him and all the others who got screwed by all of this.

"It could be worse, Wyatt. We have the option to transplant. That was more than most people really thought would be available." He tipped his head back to look up at those pale, blue eyes. "It's not as good as it could have been, but they can stop the really bad glitches. The ones that hurt. And that'll be enough, yeah? Maybe... I'm better off not remembering, hey? Some days I bet you could forget what happened as easily as I do, am I right?"