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Title: When Wonderland Shatters - 10 of 14
Author: Surreal
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, DG, Raw, Azkadellia, Queen, Ahamo, others
Genre: Adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17 (violence, m/m slash)
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to L. Frank Baum and the creative minds behind Tin Man. I do not claim to own anything.
Summary: Of all the indicators that their beautiful kingdom had gone to hell, it was the most simple of gestures that told those watching the moment they all had been utterly screwed.
Previously
**********
10. A lick and a promise
Cain had known with a staggering certainty that there was no talking Glitch out of what he was doing. He had seen the determination and unbreakable conviction burning in the man’s eyes when Glitch had kissed him, had spoken those words.
Don’t let go of me.
The bonds holding him to the tree had dissolved along with the rest of the shadows as they drew up into Glitch’s body. Cain leapt to his feet but it all happened too fast, he could only watch helplessly as the sword’s long, thin blade entered his lover’s rigid chest and continued out the center of his back.
By the time Wyatt reached him, DG had let go of the sword’s handle and Glitch was collapsing toward the ground.
Cain made it to his side in time to catch Glitch against his chest, raising one arm to curl around narrow shoulders and dropping the other to wrap around Glitch’s waist. He positioned himself carefully to avoid the impaling sword, keeping Glitch’s head tucked against his collar and one bony shoulder digging into his ribcage.
“By the gods,” Wyatt swore, not entirely sure where to put his hands. The ragged, wet cough broke his heart and he pressed his cheek against the top of Glitch’s head, shocked at how hot the zipper was in spite of the cold around them. “Glitch, stay with me, we’re going to get you home. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Looking up to see the stricken expression on DG’s face as she stared at Glitch. Her hand, pale and shaking, came up to brush small fingers over Glitch’s cold cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“DG,” Wyatt hated how fragile his own voice sounded. “Can you send us back?” His hand slipped down to rest on one of Glitch’s thighs, thumb stroking impatiently.
She didn’t answer him right away, a lost expression on her face as she forced her focus away from watching Glitch fight to breathe. “I...I don’t know, it took Raw’s help to get me here to begin with.”
“Try,” Cain pleaded, eyes shining as he fought to keep from losing it. “You have to try.”
DG bit back a sob, her hand pressed firmly to her mouth for a second before dropping back down on top of Glitch’s limp hand. She drew a stuttering breath and closed her eyes. Faint light flickered from their joined hands for a fraction of a moment before fading again.
“I’m not strong enough, I can’t do it alone,” the princess shook her head, dismayed at her own limitations.
Cain tightened his hold ever so slightly and shifted so he was partially sitting on his coat. Something hard pressed against his hip and he froze, realization making him gasp out loud. “DG,” he said anxiously, shifting back up while being careful not to disturb the badly injured man in his arms. “In my coat pocket, left side – get the round metal thing. It’s how Glitch got us here.”
She did as she was told, pulling out the device and looking at it. “I remember this,” she frowned in confusion. She thumbed the latch open, inspecting the empty chamber. “There’s nothing in here.”
Swearing softly, Cain dropped his chin back down onto Glitch’s head. The warmth of the metal had faded slightly. “I forgot it needs that element to work.”
Glitch shifted against him suddenly, drawing a shallow sip of air. His hand came up slowly to touch the handle of the sword still sticking out of him, fingers tapping lightly on the brass cap at the end.
“Don’t touch it,” Cain grabbed the hand and held it in his own. “It’s the only thing keeping you from bleeding to death.”
“No,” Glitch breathed the word. “Inside. Mor’tanium.”
Cain’s eyes grew wide in understanding. The sword was magical, one of Ambrose’s inventions and it used the same element as who knew how many more of the things he had come up with.
“Hold this still, DG,” Wyatt commanded, waiting until she was carefully gripping the part of the handle closest to the blade before he set to work unscrewing the brass endcap with one hand, keeping the other slung around Glitch’s shoulders. When it came loose he slowly slid it out, finding a short glass tube that was blessedly half-filled with sparkling black dust.
Pulling it free, he nodded toward the transfer device. “Take this, pour the powder into the empty dish.”
DG reached for the small container and did as she was instructed, snapping the lid shut when she was done. She pressed the delicate machine into Glitch’s palm, holding it in place with her own hand. “Glitch,” she said softly, ducking her head and looking into half-closed brown eyes. “Time to send us home.”
Cain felt Glitch’s body push against him, a heavy head lolling against his collarbone. He lifted his hand and ran his thumb under his partner’s lower lip, wiping the blood away with a lick and a promise. “There’s a warm bed and most likely a pissed-off viewer waiting for us. Let’s go home.”
**********
Part 11
Author: Surreal
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, DG, Raw, Azkadellia, Queen, Ahamo, others
Genre: Adventure, romance
Rating: NC-17 (violence, m/m slash)
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to L. Frank Baum and the creative minds behind Tin Man. I do not claim to own anything.
Summary: Of all the indicators that their beautiful kingdom had gone to hell, it was the most simple of gestures that told those watching the moment they all had been utterly screwed.
Previously
**********
10. A lick and a promise
Cain had known with a staggering certainty that there was no talking Glitch out of what he was doing. He had seen the determination and unbreakable conviction burning in the man’s eyes when Glitch had kissed him, had spoken those words.
Don’t let go of me.
The bonds holding him to the tree had dissolved along with the rest of the shadows as they drew up into Glitch’s body. Cain leapt to his feet but it all happened too fast, he could only watch helplessly as the sword’s long, thin blade entered his lover’s rigid chest and continued out the center of his back.
By the time Wyatt reached him, DG had let go of the sword’s handle and Glitch was collapsing toward the ground.
Cain made it to his side in time to catch Glitch against his chest, raising one arm to curl around narrow shoulders and dropping the other to wrap around Glitch’s waist. He positioned himself carefully to avoid the impaling sword, keeping Glitch’s head tucked against his collar and one bony shoulder digging into his ribcage.
“By the gods,” Wyatt swore, not entirely sure where to put his hands. The ragged, wet cough broke his heart and he pressed his cheek against the top of Glitch’s head, shocked at how hot the zipper was in spite of the cold around them. “Glitch, stay with me, we’re going to get you home. I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
Looking up to see the stricken expression on DG’s face as she stared at Glitch. Her hand, pale and shaking, came up to brush small fingers over Glitch’s cold cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“DG,” Wyatt hated how fragile his own voice sounded. “Can you send us back?” His hand slipped down to rest on one of Glitch’s thighs, thumb stroking impatiently.
She didn’t answer him right away, a lost expression on her face as she forced her focus away from watching Glitch fight to breathe. “I...I don’t know, it took Raw’s help to get me here to begin with.”
“Try,” Cain pleaded, eyes shining as he fought to keep from losing it. “You have to try.”
DG bit back a sob, her hand pressed firmly to her mouth for a second before dropping back down on top of Glitch’s limp hand. She drew a stuttering breath and closed her eyes. Faint light flickered from their joined hands for a fraction of a moment before fading again.
“I’m not strong enough, I can’t do it alone,” the princess shook her head, dismayed at her own limitations.
Cain tightened his hold ever so slightly and shifted so he was partially sitting on his coat. Something hard pressed against his hip and he froze, realization making him gasp out loud. “DG,” he said anxiously, shifting back up while being careful not to disturb the badly injured man in his arms. “In my coat pocket, left side – get the round metal thing. It’s how Glitch got us here.”
She did as she was told, pulling out the device and looking at it. “I remember this,” she frowned in confusion. She thumbed the latch open, inspecting the empty chamber. “There’s nothing in here.”
Swearing softly, Cain dropped his chin back down onto Glitch’s head. The warmth of the metal had faded slightly. “I forgot it needs that element to work.”
Glitch shifted against him suddenly, drawing a shallow sip of air. His hand came up slowly to touch the handle of the sword still sticking out of him, fingers tapping lightly on the brass cap at the end.
“Don’t touch it,” Cain grabbed the hand and held it in his own. “It’s the only thing keeping you from bleeding to death.”
“No,” Glitch breathed the word. “Inside. Mor’tanium.”
Cain’s eyes grew wide in understanding. The sword was magical, one of Ambrose’s inventions and it used the same element as who knew how many more of the things he had come up with.
“Hold this still, DG,” Wyatt commanded, waiting until she was carefully gripping the part of the handle closest to the blade before he set to work unscrewing the brass endcap with one hand, keeping the other slung around Glitch’s shoulders. When it came loose he slowly slid it out, finding a short glass tube that was blessedly half-filled with sparkling black dust.
Pulling it free, he nodded toward the transfer device. “Take this, pour the powder into the empty dish.”
DG reached for the small container and did as she was instructed, snapping the lid shut when she was done. She pressed the delicate machine into Glitch’s palm, holding it in place with her own hand. “Glitch,” she said softly, ducking her head and looking into half-closed brown eyes. “Time to send us home.”
Cain felt Glitch’s body push against him, a heavy head lolling against his collarbone. He lifted his hand and ran his thumb under his partner’s lower lip, wiping the blood away with a lick and a promise. “There’s a warm bed and most likely a pissed-off viewer waiting for us. Let’s go home.”
**********
Part 11