No More Songs [visual |backdated to the morning after Glitch's post]

[hasaheart]

In the movies, or in Other-Side movies that is, the best friend always seems to know if or when something is wrong. Wyatt and Glitch have been friends for years, the best of friends and more: brothers (in-arms and otherwise), partners-in-crime, confidantes, fellow Ozites swimming in a sea of faceless drones and Other-Siders. They were bound to the same fate by oath and duty and magic, and even after their quest was ended their friendship lived on. It wasn't easy. It wasn't perfect - but what would life or friendship be if not for the bumps in the road.

In Taxon, in what poses as real life to those trapped, Wyatt goes about his day like any other day in blissful ignorance of his friend going into the wind.

It isn't until the next morning, when as part of hardly-ever-failing routine Wyatt checks through the list of names on his tablet...and finds one missing.

He stares for a moment; the cogs of his brain halt and squeak and attempt a reversal. No, that can't be, can't have read that right--

By his third painstaking scrutiny of the list of names and residences and shops, Wyatt can't breathe. His kitchen goes from a bright safe haven to a black hole and the walls are closing in and he. Can't. Breathe.

~*~

The face that appears on the tablet is white as a sheet and drawn with tension. Look any closer and you might see that jaw snap clean off his face. It's a moment before he speaks, because like so many times before he doesn't know where to start. He's been over all the rational explanations. He's even gone to Langwe and Gale's. He went to Glitch's shotgun house.

Now he's back, and there's no escaping the fact his world is crumbling. The walls are coming down and his back isn't strong enough to push back.

His lips fold inward. He swallows. "Glitch is gone. I don't know what else to say. I don't know."

Comments

[hasaheart]

Good question, that. Time blurs and fades around the edges, it stretches on forever in his memories. He supposes you can't walk away from his type of sentencing without some damage done to your mind, but he's gone so long asking that same thing.

"A week, maybe. Tops. I keep wanting to say two weeks, but there was just...so much going on in a very short period of time. We were racing against the coming eclipse, and we were running out of time."

He quirks another smile, a wry, somewhat weary look in his eye. He watches the yellow flowers. "You know what the smart thing would've been? Instead of racing against the forces of evil to find this magic stone so they couldn't get their dirty mitts on it?

"We should've just camped for a week, let the double eclipse pass, and get on with our business. Instead, we led them right to it. People got killed. Hurt. It doesn't make sense."

[smecker]

A week. Not long at all, really, to build those bonds. But long enough. Crisis gouges deep furrows, he's got enough of psychology to know that.

Paul scratches at his eyebrow while listening, then quirks that brow.

"Hindsight's always 20/20, pal. Everyone does stupid shit in a warzone. Even the generals."

[hasaheart]

"Yeah."

He supposes Paul's right. Of course he is - but more importantly he's there. That means more than anything right now.

Wyatt turns his head to look, and before he knows it he's turned in his seat and leaned in for a kiss.

[smecker]

Public Displays of Affection are something Paul Smecker will probably always hesitate over, at least a little bit. He's still for a half a second, before returning the kiss considerably more chastely than he would if they were somewhere else.

The hand resting against Wyatt's shoulder gives it a little squeeze.