Tin Man fic: Small
Title: Small
Author: Surreal
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, Raw, DG
Words: 650
Disclaimer: not mine, etc.
Summary: If there was one thing Cain had never considered Glitch to be, it was small.
If there was one thing Cain had never considered Glitch to be, it was small. Everything about the man screamed for attention; he filled a room with his laugh alone. Glitch was life embodied in a slightly broken vessel, loud and clumsy and there.
Seeing him now, white and clinging to existence by only the barest of threads, not unlike the old jacket he still kept lovingly stored in his armoire, Cain felt shaky and ill at how very fragile and small Glitch looked. Watching as Raw worked alongside the resident house medico, cutting away the blood-soaked makeshift bandages Cain had hurriedly tied around Glitch's stomach.
Everything, every detail came into sharp focus and in his fight not to look at the uncovered wound, Cain noticed all the little things. How one of Glitch's sock-clad feet was peeking out from under the thin blanket Cain had hastily wrapped him in. The way one hand, right at the bend of the wrist, hung over the edge of the narrow emergency gurney, fingers stained red in haphazard patterns.
Blanket bunched up at Glitch's waist, just past the tops of his thighs, where the healers had pushed it thoughtlessly out of the way.
At Raw's face, how the Viewer was visibly trembling with the effort of saving Glitch, his hands firm in their duty but the rest of his body taut as a violin string.
The feel of DG's delicate, shaking hand on his shoulder as she faced the other way, still at his side but unable to watch. Her near-silent promise that Glitch would be all right. As if to make them both believe it.
And through it all, the maddening distraction of that one hand dangling from under the blanket; that one foot sticking out from the end. All Cain could think, insanely, was Glitch will be cold.
He must have made a sound because DG's huge, worried eyes were looking right at him. Cain shook his head, bringing a hand up to bite at his nails until he remembered they, too, were covered in Glitch's blood.
Swallowing thickly, he looked around, spotted a nearby sink. Quickly pushed up his sleeves and washed his hands with a kind of desperation he knew was boiling just under the surface.
Until Raw made a low sound of approval and stumbled back, exhausted but clearly pleased. DG was there first, Cain just a breath later.
Cain knew his face gave away everything, he couldn't help that nor did he particularly care at the time. "He's..."
"Glitch okay," Raw assured him softly, his big, soft hand still resting on Glitch's shoulder.
"Okay," Cain echoed unsteadily, taking up position on Glitch's other side. He stroked his hand down the inside of Glitch's wrist, thankful that someone, perhaps during his lapse in watchfulness, had taken the time to clean the blood from Glitch's hands.
Cain was the first to notice Glitch's pathetic attempt at wakefulness, the way his eyes barely cracked open and his tongue flitted out to dab at dry lips. Glitch's eyes drifted to Raw first, a tiny wrinkle of a frown forming between his eyes. "'kay?"
"Glitch all right. Rest," Raw instructed gently, a proud smile shining through his concern.
"Mmm," Glitch agreed vaguely, then turned just enough for Cain to know he now had Glitch's attention. "Wyatt?"
"Yeah, Glitch," Cain reached up with his free hand, the backs of his fingers coming to rest on Glitch's pale cheek.
"M'cold," Glitch informed him with a weak sigh.
Cain couldn't hold back a breathy laugh, automatically reaching down to pull the blanket back up until it reached Glitch's chin. They would worry about the bloody clothes later. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw DG tucking the end securely around Glitch's feet; obviously he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "Better?"
Glitch licked his lips again, eyes drifting shut. "Thanks."
****
End.
Author: Surreal
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, Raw, DG
Words: 650
Disclaimer: not mine, etc.
Summary: If there was one thing Cain had never considered Glitch to be, it was small.
If there was one thing Cain had never considered Glitch to be, it was small. Everything about the man screamed for attention; he filled a room with his laugh alone. Glitch was life embodied in a slightly broken vessel, loud and clumsy and there.
Seeing him now, white and clinging to existence by only the barest of threads, not unlike the old jacket he still kept lovingly stored in his armoire, Cain felt shaky and ill at how very fragile and small Glitch looked. Watching as Raw worked alongside the resident house medico, cutting away the blood-soaked makeshift bandages Cain had hurriedly tied around Glitch's stomach.
Everything, every detail came into sharp focus and in his fight not to look at the uncovered wound, Cain noticed all the little things. How one of Glitch's sock-clad feet was peeking out from under the thin blanket Cain had hastily wrapped him in. The way one hand, right at the bend of the wrist, hung over the edge of the narrow emergency gurney, fingers stained red in haphazard patterns.
Blanket bunched up at Glitch's waist, just past the tops of his thighs, where the healers had pushed it thoughtlessly out of the way.
At Raw's face, how the Viewer was visibly trembling with the effort of saving Glitch, his hands firm in their duty but the rest of his body taut as a violin string.
The feel of DG's delicate, shaking hand on his shoulder as she faced the other way, still at his side but unable to watch. Her near-silent promise that Glitch would be all right. As if to make them both believe it.
And through it all, the maddening distraction of that one hand dangling from under the blanket; that one foot sticking out from the end. All Cain could think, insanely, was Glitch will be cold.
He must have made a sound because DG's huge, worried eyes were looking right at him. Cain shook his head, bringing a hand up to bite at his nails until he remembered they, too, were covered in Glitch's blood.
Swallowing thickly, he looked around, spotted a nearby sink. Quickly pushed up his sleeves and washed his hands with a kind of desperation he knew was boiling just under the surface.
Until Raw made a low sound of approval and stumbled back, exhausted but clearly pleased. DG was there first, Cain just a breath later.
Cain knew his face gave away everything, he couldn't help that nor did he particularly care at the time. "He's..."
"Glitch okay," Raw assured him softly, his big, soft hand still resting on Glitch's shoulder.
"Okay," Cain echoed unsteadily, taking up position on Glitch's other side. He stroked his hand down the inside of Glitch's wrist, thankful that someone, perhaps during his lapse in watchfulness, had taken the time to clean the blood from Glitch's hands.
Cain was the first to notice Glitch's pathetic attempt at wakefulness, the way his eyes barely cracked open and his tongue flitted out to dab at dry lips. Glitch's eyes drifted to Raw first, a tiny wrinkle of a frown forming between his eyes. "'kay?"
"Glitch all right. Rest," Raw instructed gently, a proud smile shining through his concern.
"Mmm," Glitch agreed vaguely, then turned just enough for Cain to know he now had Glitch's attention. "Wyatt?"
"Yeah, Glitch," Cain reached up with his free hand, the backs of his fingers coming to rest on Glitch's pale cheek.
"M'cold," Glitch informed him with a weak sigh.
Cain couldn't hold back a breathy laugh, automatically reaching down to pull the blanket back up until it reached Glitch's chin. They would worry about the bloody clothes later. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw DG tucking the end securely around Glitch's feet; obviously he wasn't the only one who had noticed. "Better?"
Glitch licked his lips again, eyes drifting shut. "Thanks."
****
End.