Count down

[amicably_absent]

Glitch wasn't entirely ready for this, but he didn't think he ever was going to be. You didn't get ready for someone doing a reinstalling transplant of your brain back into your head when you couldn't even actually remember having it taken out in the first place.

They had him dressed in a loose, open necked and shapeless shirt with similarly matched trousers, the theory being that he'd feel more comfortable and relaxed in calming clothes. And he knew that Wyatt and DG were outside the door, well, Wyatt, DG had been pale and struggling and she might have gone now that he was walking into the surgery and being helped to lie down.

"Just lie down, Ambrose, and we'll get you nicely under. You won't feel anything."

He lay down, a nurse looked at him with warm eyes as she stroked his forehead and hair, checking for signs of trouble along the zip. The doctor nodded, white lights being turned on and the mask over his lower face.

Glitch felt his heart start racing.

"All right now, Ambrose. Just count back from a hundred, ninety-nine-"

Glitch remembered nothing more. Certainly not flipping to his feet and off the table and definitely not barreling out of the surgery doors, through the waiting area and out of the hospital entirely at a flat sprint that he never would have credited himself as being able to do.

Comments

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

It should be a sanctuary, this place, where people come to get some fresh air and sunshine. Not a hiding place.

He makes his way over, crouching beside Glitch and shrugs out of his long coat. Maybe it isn't cold outside, but Glitch is trembling, and something must be done about that, even if it's just an excuse to touch.

"What happened, Sweetheart? Why did you take off like that?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

He presses back again, further, deeper, and looks down with another slow blink.

But he's mouthing words.

He's counting. Backwards. He never gets further than ninety-five before he starts again from a hundred.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Damn it. Damn it to Hell. Ambrose, pleading for his life, for more, and that slimy, sadistic bastard looking down on him, encouraging him to...

"Glitch. Snap out of it." He drapes his coat over Glitch's shoulders, not caring one bit about the leafy branches getting in the way.

"You're huddled up in the hospital garden. You're going to be okay."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch looks up. "My name isn't Ambrose. I mean, it is. But I'm not Ambrose."

And then whatever it is, the glitch taking him, he snaps out of it. "Wyatt... is it over?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Damn them all to Hell.

"Hey." He splays his fingers over Glitch's shoulder blade, hoping to soothe him.

"You panicked before they even got started. I'm sorry."

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Glitch folds himself up more, nodding sadly. "Yeah. It didn't feel any different. I was hoping..."

He sighs softly, leaning into the hand. "I don't remember. I just remember walking in and the nurse touching my head and then being here. And nothing between. Dammit." He sighs out frustration.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"They asked you to count back from one hundred." He says it as matter-of-factly as he can, not wanting to set off another glitch. But he can't sit there and feint ignorance.

He pushes out air through his nose. Keeps his hand right where it is. "Just like the witch's alchemists did."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Oh."

The loops sets up, he can see it, hear it, and there's a second panic as he realises what this is going to do and then he realises he can see it, he can hear it and then panics because he realises what this is going to do and then he can see it-

He's counting again, but there's the spark at the end, that says he knows he's glitching and can't stop it.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

He could kick himself in the head, he really could. And then he could kick himself some more, because this always happens, and it only ever seems to get worse every last time.

"Glitch?" He puts both hands on his shoulders, jostling him gently. "Glitch! Get back here!"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I'm here!"

He sucks in a breath of air. "I'm here. Sorry. It just, I knew it was going to happen. Didn't help." He blows it out again. "Which is why I have to do this. But I glitched on the table, I guess. Wow, this is going to get difficult. Because I'm just going to keep glitching and dancing my way back out of the theatre before they manage to get the marbles in the old noggin."

Nervous ramble now. But it's not glitching ramble.

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Okay."

Cain nods, rising to his feet and pulling Glitch along with him. "We'll have a chat with the nice hospital people. No reason they can't use their imaginations, right?"

And off they go to climb the wall. "How does listing the alphabet sound to you?"

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

He lets himself be pulled to his feet, because he wants this to work and to stop these damn cycles and flickers and glitches.

He stares at the wall. "How in the O.Z. did we get in here, Wyatt?"

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Well, you ran, I ran. You did some pretty impressive twists and turns up the grate and flipped right over. My way of doing it wasn't quite as impressive."

He clasps his hands, laying them on one bended knee, something for Glitch to use as a starting point.

"Go on. You can do it, you and your hidden martial arts talents."

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

Glitch looks at the wall, at Wyatt, at his own bare and now somewhat dirty feet and then nods slowly.

He takes a step back and then hops up, foot in Wyatt's hands, one on the wall and he's caught himself perched up the top of the wall, straddling it and he offers a hand down to his friend.

"You won't pull me down. I'm stronger than I look."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

Cheeky, confident bastard.

Cain squints up at the other man, conveniently haloed by the sunshine drifting down through the clouds up above. It makes for a nice image, like something out of a fairytale, only nowhere near as sinister. Glitch seems to Wyatt like something come of earth and foliage and branches.

But it's a peculiar, silly notion, and he smiles brightly at his irrational thoughts.

"Oh, I know you are, zipper-head. I just didn't think you'd need to brag about it."

He backs a few paces, putting some distance between himself and the wall for added momentum. He dashes forward, counting down the steps in his head, and he lunges. The front of his sole connects with the wall, one hand grips the edge of the it and the other finds Glitch's smaller hand with silent - unspoken - trust and confidence. He knows Glitch is stronger than he looks, he's seen it first hand on several occasions.

It's teamwork and friendship at its finest.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"I'm just reassuring a twitchy Tinman that his headcased friend isn't going to drop him while he's trying to climb a wall."

He catches Cain's hand and pulls, half lifting him up onto the top of the wall with both hands on Cain's one.

He even scoots back to give Wyatt the space he needs to comfortably get his legs over the wall and settled on top.

"See? No dropping."

[less-hugging.livejournal.com]

"Twitchy? I didn't even cock my gun at you this time around," he retorts, settling himself on top.

"I wasn't expecting you to, Glitch. Wouldn't have let you help me if I did."

And he hops down, ignoring the way his knees protest like the neglected junctions of an abandoned meta-mechanical project.

"It's now or never, Glitch. Doesn't matter if you're ready or not, you've got to go through with this."

He turns around and holds out his hand, hoping it will reassure his friend.

[amicably-absent.livejournal.com]

"Twitchy doesn't need a gun to be twitchy."

Glitch looks down, not sure how he got down before, but he thinks it was probably a blind launch and scrabble and desperate panic. So this time he takes a breath, closes his eyes and jumps down.

He lands safely on the ground in a crouch, hand caught in Wyatt's as he stands up again. "I know. I want to."

He just isn't sure how.