Fic: Patchwork
I swear, this had a point when I started. But I seem to have lost it somewhere between point A to point B. If you find it, let me know. *facepalm*
Title: Patchwork
Rating: PG
Pairing: Glitch/Wyatt
Summary: Glitch is still the smartest man in the O.Z.
It came as no great shock that the attempt to return Glitch’s brain had been a spectacular failure. No one, not even the most determined and dedicated medicos, had shown much faith in a successful surgery.
But that did little to assuage the sharp, bitter taste of fear and anxiety Wyatt had deep in the back of his throat ever since the initial rush of activity that had announced Glitch’s near death. There had been a span of hours where no one outside of the surgical ward knew what was happening or if Glitch was even alive.
Wyatt had been sitting against a far wall during that time, legs pulled up and hands clasped together on his bent knees in prayer. To his right, Raw’s steady presence had been warm and comforting. On his other side, Jeb’s tension and concern had been right on the surface, his hands clenching around his own knees. DG and her parents had alternated between pacing the small waiting area and sitting together in a huddle on the room’s largest sofa.
That had been days ago, but the memory of those hours were scorched deep in Wyatt’s mind and still fresh enough to bring that acidic burn to his stomach. Now, as he had from the moment Glitch had been settled in a private observation room, Wyatt sat holding Glitch’s cold, grey hand. Waiting.
Friends and family drifted by like ghosts haunting the place; some stayed for hours, others only had the stomach to make a quick check that Glitch was still breathing before retreating back to the livelier parts of the palace.
In the early morning hours of the fourth day, before the sun had even begun to crest over the mountains, Wyatt was awakened from his exhausted, awkward slumber by the soft shuffle of feet entering the room.
Looking up and stretching, never once letting go of Glitch’s hand, Wyatt smiled sadly at the Queen. He still couldn’t bring himself to think of her as anything but Highness, even in informal moments such as these.
“Morning, Highness,” Wyatt greeted tiredly. He had learned through gentle teasing over the last few months that he need not stand and bow any longer in her presence; a habit hard to break after a lifetime of deference. It took another moment for him to notice that she held something in her hands; a colorful bundle of cloth. “What’s that?”
The Queen looked down at what she held, a fond smile brightening her otherwise pale and despondent expression. She shook out the fabric, revealing a modestly sized quilt made from a wide variety of squares, the colors and patterns seemingly haphazard yet creating a very homey effect. “I found this in a storage closet near Ambrose’s old quarters. I hadn’t seen it in many annuals.”
Rather than continue her explanation, she made her way over and proceeded to cover Glitch’s prone, silent form with it carefully. Wyatt stood and helped her straighten the edges until all the squares were smooth. “Was it his?”
“Yes, a very long time ago,” she answered softly, her eyes fixed on Glitch’s pale face. “My mother made it for him when he first came to live with us. He was merely a toddler at the time; barely three annuals. But the Viewers had assured her that little Ambrose was destined to be a great Royal Advisor; too young to be hers, but someday would be mine. I was - oh, only a child myself, just about seven annuals.
“He was so quiet at first,” she said, looking up at Wyatt briefly before turning back to her recollection. At some point she had taken Glitch’s hand in her own, stroking the back of his wrist with her thumb. “Such a good boy. My parents always said it was my influence that brought out his senses of humor and adventure. If that’s true, I couldn’t be prouder for having helped him turn out the way he did.”
Wyatt sank slowly back into his chair, his hand resting lightly on Glitch’s other arm. “I’m sure he felt quite welcome here.”
The Queen gave a genuine smile. “He loved it here,” she said with such confidence that Wyatt knew it to be the absolute truth. “This quilt...he took it everywhere with him for almost an annual and a half before he finally grew out of it. He said it always made him feel loved.”
“I hope he still knows that, when he recovers from this,” Wyatt replied. “That he’s still very much loved.”
“I’m sure he does,” she told Wyatt. She opened her mouth to continue but instead gave a soft gasp, looking down at where her hand was joined with Glitch’s. “I thought - “
Wyatt stood quickly looking down at Glitch. “Hey, sweetheart - you in there?”
Glitch sighed quietly, turning his head toward the voice. It took several false starts and quite a bit of cajoling but eventually Glitch blinked open his eyes just enough to squint up at Wyatt. “Is it time to save the Princess already?”
Chuckling with profound relief, Wyatt shook his head. “Not unless she’s gotten up to some new kind of trouble. You remember me?”
“Mmmhmm,” Glitch smiled, closing his eyes for a moment. “Cain.”
The Queen spoke up. “And me?”
Glitch turned his head and his eyes went a bit wider. “Majesty! You’re - oh...that’s right,” Glitch grimaced. “We won, didn’t we?”
“Do you remember what happened since then, Glitch?” Wyatt asked gently.
“Not...really?”
Wyatt licked his lips, choosing his words carefully. “The doctors...they tried to give you your brain back but - it didn’t - “
“It didn’t work,” Glitch finished for him, his tone colorless and flat. Eyes closed again, he suddenly looked very ill. “It was never going to work. I don’t know why I even...”
“Because there was always a chance and we had to try,” Wyatt replied, reaching up to stroke a tendril of dark hair aside. “You almost died. I can’t tell you how much that scared me...scared all of us.”
Glitch finally looked up, glancing at both of them. “I guess I’m lucky to be alive, then, huh?”
“Very much so,” Wyatt said, swallowing hard. “Hey, look what the Queen found.” He took a corner of the quilt and lifted it for Glitch to see.
It took a moment for Glitch to reply. “It’s...very colorful. And warm.” But there was no recognition in his eyes.
“Yes, it is,” the Queen answered when Wyatt couldn’t find his voice. They both understood that there were some things Glitch would never remember.
The Queen took her leave of them and once again it was just the two men, sitting together in companionable silence. “You should get some more sleep,” Wyatt finally said. “It’ll be a while yet before you’re healthy again.”
Glitch shifted onto his side, facing Wyatt. “Are you headed to bed yourself?”
“I haven’t seen my bed in days,” Wyatt confessed before he could catch himself.
“Oh, Wyatt,” Glitch sighed, scooting back with the little strength he had. “Get up here already. There’s plenty of quilt to go around. Did you know the Queen’s mother made it for me? I haven’t seen this thing in...” He stopped, frowning.
“You remembered,” Wyatt breathed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “On your own.”
“I guess,” Glitch flopped back down onto his pillow and reached for Wyatt. “No matter, I’m sure it’ll all come in time anyway. Who needs a whole brain when the important parts are all right here with me?”
Wyatt leaned down and kissed Glitch tenderly, then stretched out alongside him on the bed. “You always said you were the smartest man in the O.Z.”
~~
End
Title: Patchwork
Rating: PG
Pairing: Glitch/Wyatt
Summary: Glitch is still the smartest man in the O.Z.
It came as no great shock that the attempt to return Glitch’s brain had been a spectacular failure. No one, not even the most determined and dedicated medicos, had shown much faith in a successful surgery.
But that did little to assuage the sharp, bitter taste of fear and anxiety Wyatt had deep in the back of his throat ever since the initial rush of activity that had announced Glitch’s near death. There had been a span of hours where no one outside of the surgical ward knew what was happening or if Glitch was even alive.
Wyatt had been sitting against a far wall during that time, legs pulled up and hands clasped together on his bent knees in prayer. To his right, Raw’s steady presence had been warm and comforting. On his other side, Jeb’s tension and concern had been right on the surface, his hands clenching around his own knees. DG and her parents had alternated between pacing the small waiting area and sitting together in a huddle on the room’s largest sofa.
That had been days ago, but the memory of those hours were scorched deep in Wyatt’s mind and still fresh enough to bring that acidic burn to his stomach. Now, as he had from the moment Glitch had been settled in a private observation room, Wyatt sat holding Glitch’s cold, grey hand. Waiting.
Friends and family drifted by like ghosts haunting the place; some stayed for hours, others only had the stomach to make a quick check that Glitch was still breathing before retreating back to the livelier parts of the palace.
In the early morning hours of the fourth day, before the sun had even begun to crest over the mountains, Wyatt was awakened from his exhausted, awkward slumber by the soft shuffle of feet entering the room.
Looking up and stretching, never once letting go of Glitch’s hand, Wyatt smiled sadly at the Queen. He still couldn’t bring himself to think of her as anything but Highness, even in informal moments such as these.
“Morning, Highness,” Wyatt greeted tiredly. He had learned through gentle teasing over the last few months that he need not stand and bow any longer in her presence; a habit hard to break after a lifetime of deference. It took another moment for him to notice that she held something in her hands; a colorful bundle of cloth. “What’s that?”
The Queen looked down at what she held, a fond smile brightening her otherwise pale and despondent expression. She shook out the fabric, revealing a modestly sized quilt made from a wide variety of squares, the colors and patterns seemingly haphazard yet creating a very homey effect. “I found this in a storage closet near Ambrose’s old quarters. I hadn’t seen it in many annuals.”
Rather than continue her explanation, she made her way over and proceeded to cover Glitch’s prone, silent form with it carefully. Wyatt stood and helped her straighten the edges until all the squares were smooth. “Was it his?”
“Yes, a very long time ago,” she answered softly, her eyes fixed on Glitch’s pale face. “My mother made it for him when he first came to live with us. He was merely a toddler at the time; barely three annuals. But the Viewers had assured her that little Ambrose was destined to be a great Royal Advisor; too young to be hers, but someday would be mine. I was - oh, only a child myself, just about seven annuals.
“He was so quiet at first,” she said, looking up at Wyatt briefly before turning back to her recollection. At some point she had taken Glitch’s hand in her own, stroking the back of his wrist with her thumb. “Such a good boy. My parents always said it was my influence that brought out his senses of humor and adventure. If that’s true, I couldn’t be prouder for having helped him turn out the way he did.”
Wyatt sank slowly back into his chair, his hand resting lightly on Glitch’s other arm. “I’m sure he felt quite welcome here.”
The Queen gave a genuine smile. “He loved it here,” she said with such confidence that Wyatt knew it to be the absolute truth. “This quilt...he took it everywhere with him for almost an annual and a half before he finally grew out of it. He said it always made him feel loved.”
“I hope he still knows that, when he recovers from this,” Wyatt replied. “That he’s still very much loved.”
“I’m sure he does,” she told Wyatt. She opened her mouth to continue but instead gave a soft gasp, looking down at where her hand was joined with Glitch’s. “I thought - “
Wyatt stood quickly looking down at Glitch. “Hey, sweetheart - you in there?”
Glitch sighed quietly, turning his head toward the voice. It took several false starts and quite a bit of cajoling but eventually Glitch blinked open his eyes just enough to squint up at Wyatt. “Is it time to save the Princess already?”
Chuckling with profound relief, Wyatt shook his head. “Not unless she’s gotten up to some new kind of trouble. You remember me?”
“Mmmhmm,” Glitch smiled, closing his eyes for a moment. “Cain.”
The Queen spoke up. “And me?”
Glitch turned his head and his eyes went a bit wider. “Majesty! You’re - oh...that’s right,” Glitch grimaced. “We won, didn’t we?”
“Do you remember what happened since then, Glitch?” Wyatt asked gently.
“Not...really?”
Wyatt licked his lips, choosing his words carefully. “The doctors...they tried to give you your brain back but - it didn’t - “
“It didn’t work,” Glitch finished for him, his tone colorless and flat. Eyes closed again, he suddenly looked very ill. “It was never going to work. I don’t know why I even...”
“Because there was always a chance and we had to try,” Wyatt replied, reaching up to stroke a tendril of dark hair aside. “You almost died. I can’t tell you how much that scared me...scared all of us.”
Glitch finally looked up, glancing at both of them. “I guess I’m lucky to be alive, then, huh?”
“Very much so,” Wyatt said, swallowing hard. “Hey, look what the Queen found.” He took a corner of the quilt and lifted it for Glitch to see.
It took a moment for Glitch to reply. “It’s...very colorful. And warm.” But there was no recognition in his eyes.
“Yes, it is,” the Queen answered when Wyatt couldn’t find his voice. They both understood that there were some things Glitch would never remember.
The Queen took her leave of them and once again it was just the two men, sitting together in companionable silence. “You should get some more sleep,” Wyatt finally said. “It’ll be a while yet before you’re healthy again.”
Glitch shifted onto his side, facing Wyatt. “Are you headed to bed yourself?”
“I haven’t seen my bed in days,” Wyatt confessed before he could catch himself.
“Oh, Wyatt,” Glitch sighed, scooting back with the little strength he had. “Get up here already. There’s plenty of quilt to go around. Did you know the Queen’s mother made it for me? I haven’t seen this thing in...” He stopped, frowning.
“You remembered,” Wyatt breathed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “On your own.”
“I guess,” Glitch flopped back down onto his pillow and reached for Wyatt. “No matter, I’m sure it’ll all come in time anyway. Who needs a whole brain when the important parts are all right here with me?”
Wyatt leaned down and kissed Glitch tenderly, then stretched out alongside him on the bed. “You always said you were the smartest man in the O.Z.”
~~
End