10: [location] bare your faces of the veil

[hasaheart]

The change of weather and the coming of April brought a few things to the forefront of Cain's mind. One day, while losing himself in the mundane murmur of household chores, he realized it had been close to six months since he first found himself trapped in this hole in the ground.

Six months in this monstrous metro-city, and he'd succumbed to the same apathy that he at first had accused his two dearest friends of.

Six months, and what had he done to find a way out?

What had he done to set things right?

Nothing. One big, fat, glaring nothing at all. He's given in to the grind of depression, to the oppressive lack of wanting anything to do with life, and the resignation that he doesn't have what it takes to end it once and for all (whatever it is, be it strength or weakness, guts or the lack of them).

What's more, if he's been here six months, it's ten months since Adora set out for the cottage beyond the white elm with their son, hoping against hope for a fresh start.

He realized he had no idea what she had done in the years before, when he was gone. He didn't know how she'd coped, what she'd had to sacrifice in order to feed her family.

Ten months, and sometime during the following four, she'd been murdered.

He realized, with chilling clarity, that he had no idea when his wife had died. He could live without knowing what had happened, because he knew it couldn't be as bad as his mind insisted in vivid, broad strokes of imaginary paint. He could live, not knowing how. He just wasn't so sure he could cope, not knowing when.

So, against better judgment, knowing full well he shared this prison with creatures who supposedly went around feeding on the blood of mortals, Cain once more took to walking the streets in the dead of night. The claustrophobia reared its ugly face one night too many, forcing him out into the deceptively open air - and if he had to choose between potentially infected, homicidal Extras and the walls of his rooms caving in, he'd take the Extras any day.

Comments

[location: a street somewhere]

[aintnoconvict]

"Right," Glitch said with a nod. He was dividing his attention between watching Cain and watching where his feet were going, which from a certain zipperheaded perspective was sort of the same thing.

"Well, if you decide you are thinking and - playing against the odds, here - wanna talk about it then I'm up for that," he offered. "And and if you're not then I can be all distracty."

See? He's a helper.

[location: a street somewhere]

[hasaheart]

Something not quite so bitter tugged at the corner of Cain's mouth; he had to admit that much at least. Glitch could serve up some excellent distraction any time of day, whether you liked it or not.

He looked at his friend then, the beginning smile sliding off his face almost as soon as it had appeared. "I'm not sure I can."

[location: a street somewhere]

[aintnoconvict]

"Think or-- oh. Talk. Well, that's familiar, I-"

Glitch was about to divulge his deal with the aliens, the chance of getting his brain back in exchange for making things, and how he somehow couldn't talk about that because every time he tried to something (not himself) stopped him.

But then something (not himself) stopped him. His steps faltered a moment and he shook his head.

"-have trouble with that too, sometimes," he said instead. "B-but that's when you just sorta muddle through and see where it takes you."

[location: a street somewhere]

[hasaheart]

Luckily for Glitch (and for Cain's already dampened spirits), Cain attributed the pause to one of Glitch's namesakes. He pursed his lips, which in reality meant that his mouth turned into a thin line of tension, and tried deciphering what his friend meant, exactly.

But nothing was exact with Glitch; everything was more complicated than it looked. This was the guy who saved his life when all he got from him was a lousy attitude. His best friend.

If you don't go out on a limb with (for) your best friend, you don't make a very good one, yourself.

"There's...stuff. Can't remember stuff I ought to, don't know stuff I need to."

[aintnoconvict]

Glitch frowned and glanced at Cain. Well that was unsettling to hear, to say the least. His first impulse was to comisserate and offer sympathy and then maybe discuss coping tactics but...no, that probably wasn't what Cain wanted

"You never said," he began instead, then made a dismissive noise to himself because no, of course he wouldn't. "I-is this new or has it been since..."

Zombies. Coming to Taxon. Falling out of that damn contraption. None of these were thigns Glitch wanted to suggest aloud.

[hasaheart]

With a restrained sigh, Cain looked down. He hadn't said anything, because he'd figured it was a common enough response to the kind of things he'd been put through. You wade through enough shit, you forget the smell soon enough.

Or, in more palatable terms: He knew the kind of defense mechanisms a brain was capable of, and memory loss seemed to be at the top of the list. He shrugged for the nth time since coming here, resisting the urge to scratch at the bracelet fused to his left wrist.

"Since the arrest," he said, hushed as though to avoid being overheard. "Everything that matters is patchy. Before you and DG found me."

[aintnoconvict]

At that, Glitch let out a near-silent "oh" and nodded, his hands folding together so fingers could find sleeves. That was familiar, ish. Aside from the more obvious, literal split, his own life had a clear dividing point between everything pre- and post-DG. Like Cain, the latter had a lot more clarity for him.

"So the...the things that matter." That was a bit ambiguous. Glitch assumed everything that once mattered to him had been removed (slowly) by the alchemists but...definitions varied. "Good things or bad things or..."

Or should he have kept his trap shut as usual?

[hasaheart]

Cain's jaw worked from side to side as though the action could keep him from saying something he didn't know how. A muscle jumped at his jaw to facilitate matters, and for a while all Glitch got was silence.

"I remember my childhood. My training. The war... But when it comes to...Adora, and Jeb--"

He didn't want to say it; couldn't figure out one single way to lessen the blow and the last thing he wanted was to hurt his friend. It's what friends did. They tended to hurt when you were, so the best option was still to suck it up and shut up. But Glitch had asked. More than that, he wanted to help.

"I can't really," he said, pausing to clear his throat. "Get past the holographic loop."

[aintnoconvict]

That stopped Glitch in his tracks, eyes wide, mouth fallen open. Of course. Of course, how monumentally stupid was he? More fallout from his creative genius, more evidence that everything he'd accomplished, everything he'd touched had evil at his core.

An agrarian miracle to doom the world to darkness. A children's toy to torture the helpless. Had he made the suit too? He didn't think so, but he could almost hear temporarily places the patient in suspended animation until help arrives, or indefinitely if medical science needs to catch up. So many lives could be saved!

And the aliens wanted him to make more, and Glitch had agreed. What sort of monster-

"Gods," he croaked, and the stitching of his left sleeve cuff gave way under his fidgeting. "Gods, Cain, I'm sorry, I I am so sorry, I'm so sorry..."

[hasaheart]

Cain moved, carried by the forward momentum; another step, two, before the lack of echoing foot steps showed up on his internal radar. Then, Glitch's voice.

He turned on his heel and marched right back, jabbing one hard finger in the center of his friend's chest. "Hey! Don't you dare."

So much for not hurting your friends. This was just another piece in a long chain of evidence to the fact you shouldn't talk if you can avoid it.

[aintnoconvict]

"I'm sorr-" Glitch stopped, swallowed, blinked, and grabbed at Cain's hand. He needed an anchor, he needed to not get poked again, he needed to calm the hell down and breathe.

After a moment the uncontrolable urge to keep apologizing subsided and he nodded, letting go. "I...that's terrible. It's not fair."

Facts, he could do facts even if they were glaringly obvious ones.

[hasaheart]

"Yeah," Cain shot back, the comforting burn of righteous indignation lingering in his voice like the echoes of a gun shot.

"It's not fair." He lifted his other hand, placing it squarely on Glitch's to keep his from fidgeting. To offer support, whatever it was worth.

"But I never said it's your fault either, so you get that idea right out of your noggin this instant."

[aintnoconvict]

Glitch stared down at the the hand covering his and nodded again before he let himself accept that and relax. He looked up at Cain with a small smile.

"Consider it gone," he replied, which in good time would be true. The dots linking him and his ideas to the terrible things the Sorceress used them for would fade, but some day he'd make the connection once more and--

No. He'd cross that bridge when he came to it.

"Is there...you can still remember some things from before, right? Th-that's not all that's left, is it?"

[hasaheart]

Cain looked away, swallowing against an unexpected tightness around his chest. He wouldn't call it a lump in his throat, because that wasn't it; rather, it was something closely related, if distinctly different.

He felt warmed by it, despite the chill of the night.

"No, I remember stuff. Bit by bit, things are coming back, but... I mean, I remember the day I met Adora like it was yesterday. I remember what led up to it, what it felt like to see her for the first time."

Quietly: "I just-- I can't really see her face. Hear her voice. I know she had flour on her forehead and in her hair, but I can't see it. You know? All I see is...her face from that day, when the Longcoats came."

If it felt like pulling teeth to him, he could well imagine it felt even worse to Glitch.

[aintnoconvict]

Glitch bit his lip and nodded, concentrating on the words and the play of emotions across Cain's face. This had to be heard and witnessed and he'd never underestimate the trust that went into it.

The question was what to do with it. He'd already apologized, offered sympathy, there was nothing he could do to fix it, and...well, time would tell if he'd remember.

Comisseration? Yes, now was the time.

"I don't remember my family at all," Glitch said. "L-like I can't...there are records, and notes, and and I've read them and I know, but the information just-- it's like they did something to keep me from getting it back. Same with the queen's name, there's a sheet of paper in my notes where I wrote it over and over, and and I have to look at that if I wanna know it again."

He sighed and glanced down. "Pretty sure I know more about this place and the people here than I do the O.Z., now."

[hasaheart]

Glitch's words were welcome in more ways than one. First and foremost they proved a distraction for Wyatt, where he could pretend neither of them knew his eyes were too bright to be entirely normal, and he could blink away the threatening loss of control.

"Well," Wyatt said after Glitch had finished - and he felt like he could raise his voice above a whisper. "If you ever want to remember the Zone..."

[aintnoconvict]

"I can...talk to you?" Glitch asked. Yes, it was a rather uncertain question, even if the answer might be a bit obvious. "I I I mean yeah, I can, I just wouldn't wanna..."

Be anannoyance. Or worse, bring up things Cain didn't want revisited, which he'd probably done more than enough of already.

[hasaheart]

"You wouldn't."

He glanced at his friend, reached out to pat his shoulder. "Okay?"

[aintnoconvict]

Glitch smiled, reassured, and nodded. "Okay."

After one more awkward moment he put one foot in front of the other - they were out for a stroll, after all - and resumed talking.

"It might be good for us, you know, talking about...home. I miss it, and--" Okay, into the breach. "DG only really remembers that one week and and little bits from before. She needs to know more, Cain.."

That's likely equal parts friend and royal-adviserly concern for a princess talking, there.