Somewhere In The Ashes We Walk
Title: Somewhere In The Ashes We Walk.
Author: dealliasnape/HarmonyMarguerite
Rating: PG, language.
Characters: Glitch, a brain in a tank, Cain. Bit of Cain/Glitch at the end.
Summary: “I am you, no matter what people want to think. We used to be one person, and, and, just because they took my ability to think straight doesn’t mean they tore me out!”
NOTE: Well, here I am, finally posting something. And since FF.net is of the hating me right now, I figured, why not here? This is sadly the product of not having written ANYTHING in about four years. Sad, I know, but I have hopes of writing more. Cheers!
Disclaimer: My brother has looked at me sadly and told me I barely own the clothes I’m wearing. Tin Man is definitely not mine.
**************
“You and me,” Glitch said suddenly, hands caressing a few controls absentmindedly. “We’re frozen in time.” After a moment, he amended, “Me and me, I mean.”
The brain in the tank bubbled at him. Glitch rather thought it sounded sympathetic, though how something bubbling could be sympathetic, he wasn’t quite sure. Could you test for sympathetic bubbles? Perhaps if you had some friendly fish hanging around… Though, the problem would be getting the fish to understand the concept of emotion first might be a slight hindrance.
Wait, what?
He looked around and saw a brain suspending in a glowing liquid.
“Frozen in time.” He told it. “I remember now. Here we are, and that’s the problem. We’re still a we instead of a me, or a you, I suppose.” He pondered that thought for a moment, suddenly angry. “I am you, no matter what people want to think. We used to be one person, and, and, just because they took my ability to think straight doesn’t mean they tore me out!”
Frustrated, he slams his hands down and stares into the liquid, watching the light play on the liquid. It’s very… hypnotic, he thinks. Light and liquid. There’s something soothing about…
Hey, there’s something in there.
“Now what are you doing in there?” He crones softly to the brain inside the tank. “That’s a silly place for you. Shouldn’t you be in a head somewhere? Oh!” His face lit up and he offered the brain a beatific smile. “Perhaps you could be in mine! I’m missing my brain you know.”
If brains could sigh, he thought his just did.
“Oh, of course.” He pointed at the tank. “Ambrose. That’s who you are. Who I was. At least, that’s what they tell me. Sometimes,” he moved closer smiling a little. “Sometimes, I think I can remember. Flashes of… of things pass me by, books I read and people I knew, things I thought… All disjointed and running around what’s left of my mind like… like…” A pause. “At least you’ve become a better listener through the years, but I have to tell you… You’re crap at providing sympathetic advice.”
More bubbles, sadder this time.
Then again, he was probably reading far too much into what a brain in a tank was doing.
He continued sadly. “They’ve moved on, you know. Those people, friends; whose named I cannot recall at the moment, but I’m sure it’ll come to me. At least, at least I have friends. Friends who care about me, who like me, even if they’ve moved on with their lives while I… we,” he amended, petting the glass softly. “Stay here… stagnant!”
A good word, powerful. He rolled it around his mind awhile, pleased that the conversation seemed to be back to the purpose of why he came here.
“Stagnant… I’m holding in one place, frozen in time.” There’s an almost silent footstep behind him, but he hears everything here. “Frozen, just like being trapped in a tin suit, watching the world go by, and friends grow up. It’s a different sort of tin suit, to be sure, but a prison all the same. Glass or tin… there’s not much difference.”
Strong hands gently touch his waist; arms wrap around him and pull him into a familiar chest. But he’s still touching the glass.
“Oh to be sure, they promise they can fix me; everyone spends valuable time running around the O.Z. trying to find a way to fix me, and I’m grateful, I am.”
He takes a moment to cover the arms with a hand of his own. A connection between the three of them, or maybe there are only two of them here. He’s not too sure and the technicalities change in his mind every time he blinks.
“I’m not broken!” He says into the silence. “I’m not! Broken things can be fixed. A little glue or some stitches, and their almost like new again. I’m not… we’re not… people, people aren’t like that. We’ve been chopped into firewood, millions of little splinters, and now someone’s thrown us on the fire. You can’t… That can’t be fixed.”
He could feel the tears rolling down his face, but to wipe them away would mean breaking the connection he has. Somewhere between the not-broken-but-maybe-too-broken brain in a tank, and the not broken but shattered man behind him, and the threads of thought wrapping around his mind.
“I know sweetheart.” Cain’s voice is a little rough.
They watch in silence, light and liquid and bubbles and a brain in a tank that should never have been in there at all.
Eventually Cain leans forward, gently kissing Glitch around his ear. “Ready to go?” He asks gently. Sometimes it’s hard to tell how long Glitch can hold onto a thought.
But Glitch has been tenacious in this. “What do we do now?” His voice is just as soft.
Cain sighs, and reaches a hand up, covering the one on the tank. “Put out the fire, and see what’s left.”
“Then what, pile the splinters together and try to rebuild?”
“Remake.”
“What?” Glitch finally turns around, hands sliding to Cain’s shoulders.
Cain takes a moment to organize his thoughts. “Maybe… Maybe you can’t fix everything. Not the way it was. But you can remake it new. On the ashes of what’s left. Make it different, and make it better. We can’t go back, so let’s go forward.”
Finally Glitch cracks a smile, then thinks about it and laughs a little. “Sometimes Tin Man, you’re a bit of a genius.”
“Sometimes sweetheart, so are you.”
A half smile and he leans forward to kiss Cain, long and gently. A thank you without words; their best way of communicating. When they pull back, Glitch looks around, slightly confused and tired.
“What are we doing up here?” He asked.
Cain starts tugging him to the door. “Don’t worry; it’ll come back to you. Come on, it’s time for dinner.”
“Alright.” Glitch goes willingly, but turns slightly before leaving, eyes catching his brain again. “We’ll be a phoenix.” He tells it. “A new animal, rising from our own ashes, beautiful and mighty, and good, and you can’t be frozen, even in time, when you’re made of fire.”
Resolved, he left, and a brain sat in a tank; perhaps it was satisfied, or saddened.
Or maybe there was hope, and love.
Author: dealliasnape/HarmonyMarguerite
Rating: PG, language.
Characters: Glitch, a brain in a tank, Cain. Bit of Cain/Glitch at the end.
Summary: “I am you, no matter what people want to think. We used to be one person, and, and, just because they took my ability to think straight doesn’t mean they tore me out!”
NOTE: Well, here I am, finally posting something. And since FF.net is of the hating me right now, I figured, why not here? This is sadly the product of not having written ANYTHING in about four years. Sad, I know, but I have hopes of writing more. Cheers!
Disclaimer: My brother has looked at me sadly and told me I barely own the clothes I’m wearing. Tin Man is definitely not mine.
**************
“You and me,” Glitch said suddenly, hands caressing a few controls absentmindedly. “We’re frozen in time.” After a moment, he amended, “Me and me, I mean.”
The brain in the tank bubbled at him. Glitch rather thought it sounded sympathetic, though how something bubbling could be sympathetic, he wasn’t quite sure. Could you test for sympathetic bubbles? Perhaps if you had some friendly fish hanging around… Though, the problem would be getting the fish to understand the concept of emotion first might be a slight hindrance.
Wait, what?
He looked around and saw a brain suspending in a glowing liquid.
“Frozen in time.” He told it. “I remember now. Here we are, and that’s the problem. We’re still a we instead of a me, or a you, I suppose.” He pondered that thought for a moment, suddenly angry. “I am you, no matter what people want to think. We used to be one person, and, and, just because they took my ability to think straight doesn’t mean they tore me out!”
Frustrated, he slams his hands down and stares into the liquid, watching the light play on the liquid. It’s very… hypnotic, he thinks. Light and liquid. There’s something soothing about…
Hey, there’s something in there.
“Now what are you doing in there?” He crones softly to the brain inside the tank. “That’s a silly place for you. Shouldn’t you be in a head somewhere? Oh!” His face lit up and he offered the brain a beatific smile. “Perhaps you could be in mine! I’m missing my brain you know.”
If brains could sigh, he thought his just did.
“Oh, of course.” He pointed at the tank. “Ambrose. That’s who you are. Who I was. At least, that’s what they tell me. Sometimes,” he moved closer smiling a little. “Sometimes, I think I can remember. Flashes of… of things pass me by, books I read and people I knew, things I thought… All disjointed and running around what’s left of my mind like… like…” A pause. “At least you’ve become a better listener through the years, but I have to tell you… You’re crap at providing sympathetic advice.”
More bubbles, sadder this time.
Then again, he was probably reading far too much into what a brain in a tank was doing.
He continued sadly. “They’ve moved on, you know. Those people, friends; whose named I cannot recall at the moment, but I’m sure it’ll come to me. At least, at least I have friends. Friends who care about me, who like me, even if they’ve moved on with their lives while I… we,” he amended, petting the glass softly. “Stay here… stagnant!”
A good word, powerful. He rolled it around his mind awhile, pleased that the conversation seemed to be back to the purpose of why he came here.
“Stagnant… I’m holding in one place, frozen in time.” There’s an almost silent footstep behind him, but he hears everything here. “Frozen, just like being trapped in a tin suit, watching the world go by, and friends grow up. It’s a different sort of tin suit, to be sure, but a prison all the same. Glass or tin… there’s not much difference.”
Strong hands gently touch his waist; arms wrap around him and pull him into a familiar chest. But he’s still touching the glass.
“Oh to be sure, they promise they can fix me; everyone spends valuable time running around the O.Z. trying to find a way to fix me, and I’m grateful, I am.”
He takes a moment to cover the arms with a hand of his own. A connection between the three of them, or maybe there are only two of them here. He’s not too sure and the technicalities change in his mind every time he blinks.
“I’m not broken!” He says into the silence. “I’m not! Broken things can be fixed. A little glue or some stitches, and their almost like new again. I’m not… we’re not… people, people aren’t like that. We’ve been chopped into firewood, millions of little splinters, and now someone’s thrown us on the fire. You can’t… That can’t be fixed.”
He could feel the tears rolling down his face, but to wipe them away would mean breaking the connection he has. Somewhere between the not-broken-but-maybe-too-broken brain in a tank, and the not broken but shattered man behind him, and the threads of thought wrapping around his mind.
“I know sweetheart.” Cain’s voice is a little rough.
They watch in silence, light and liquid and bubbles and a brain in a tank that should never have been in there at all.
Eventually Cain leans forward, gently kissing Glitch around his ear. “Ready to go?” He asks gently. Sometimes it’s hard to tell how long Glitch can hold onto a thought.
But Glitch has been tenacious in this. “What do we do now?” His voice is just as soft.
Cain sighs, and reaches a hand up, covering the one on the tank. “Put out the fire, and see what’s left.”
“Then what, pile the splinters together and try to rebuild?”
“Remake.”
“What?” Glitch finally turns around, hands sliding to Cain’s shoulders.
Cain takes a moment to organize his thoughts. “Maybe… Maybe you can’t fix everything. Not the way it was. But you can remake it new. On the ashes of what’s left. Make it different, and make it better. We can’t go back, so let’s go forward.”
Finally Glitch cracks a smile, then thinks about it and laughs a little. “Sometimes Tin Man, you’re a bit of a genius.”
“Sometimes sweetheart, so are you.”
A half smile and he leans forward to kiss Cain, long and gently. A thank you without words; their best way of communicating. When they pull back, Glitch looks around, slightly confused and tired.
“What are we doing up here?” He asked.
Cain starts tugging him to the door. “Don’t worry; it’ll come back to you. Come on, it’s time for dinner.”
“Alright.” Glitch goes willingly, but turns slightly before leaving, eyes catching his brain again. “We’ll be a phoenix.” He tells it. “A new animal, rising from our own ashes, beautiful and mighty, and good, and you can’t be frozen, even in time, when you’re made of fire.”
Resolved, he left, and a brain sat in a tank; perhaps it was satisfied, or saddened.
Or maybe there was hope, and love.