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UGH. I have no clue what the hell this is. It started with a vague idea and ended up with a vague bunch of words stuck together. I've read it over several times, poked it to death and slept on it. I'm still not happy with it but I honestly have no idea what to do about that. So, we'll just go with it. :/
Title: Proper Care For The Discarded
Rating: R (implied violence)
Pairing/Characters: Glitch/Wyatt, DG, Raw, Jeb
Words: ~2000
Summary: “Dad – wait, it’s – “ Jeb tried to restrain Wyatt at the midpoint of the stairs but there was no point; Wyatt had already seen the body on the dirt floor.
“Here, he’s in here,” Jeb’s voice echoed in the now-silent stairwell that led to an unfinished basement. The walls were boarded up with mold-blackened planks and there was water gathering in the farthest corner. Not that Wyatt cared about the house’s condition; the owners were dead on the kitchen floor upstairs. The treacherous sons of bitches.
Wyatt shoved his gun into the holster hanging at his hip and pushed past two of his guardsmen, back up sent along with him in case the hostage takers put up a fight. Which they had; thankfully, no one but them had been hurt and that meant Raw was free to focus on the person who needed his attention the most.
Glitch.
“Dad – wait, it’s – “ Jeb tried to restrain Wyatt at the midpoint of the stairs but there was no point; Wyatt had already seen the body on the dirt floor. The only illumination in the basement was a single dusty, yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling but that was enough. Enough to identify Glitch’s familiar form sprawled haphazardly, as if dragged carelessly and dropped thoughtlessly; discarded.
“Oh, gods,” Wyatt stumbled down the next two steps but made it to the bottom; he could hear Raw’s heavy tread thundering down the steps and DG’s gasp at the top of the stairs. Voices upstairs hollered indiscriminately.
It all blurred in the background, meaningless. All Wyatt could see was the red and black striped shirt that was now brushing the heel of his hand. The shockingly white skin of Glitch’s throat, face turned to the side and more pale than ever before. Dried blood under his nose, mouth slightly ajar and air rasping past cracked, bluish lips.
“Dad, look at his arm,” Jeb’s voice was so close to his ear that Wyatt jerked involuntarily, having forgotten he was not there alone. Wyatt looked up and saw Jeb gently, so gently, turning Glitch’s arm over to expose a large ragged hole torn just below the elbow of the sleeve. The skin was bruised and marked with several tiny puncture wounds.
“Damn,” Wyatt sighed breathlessly, pressing his hand to Glitch’s chest with renewed alarm. The beat was there against his palm but not the one he had grown familiar with. This one was slow, hardly discernable between the shallow breaths. “They must have drugged him to get him to talk. Bastards probably didn’t even realize what that kind of dosage would do to someone like Glitch.”
“Or care,” Jeb added, then moved out of the way to let Raw kneel at Glitch’s side.
Raw touched Glitch’s obvious injuries gently: the wrist that was at a horrifically wrong angle was soon adjusted to its proper position, the cuts from a knife that marred Glitch’s ribcage. He stroked Glitch’s head with great care, but gave a low growl at whatever it was he had seen. “Confusion,” he rumbled. “Turmoil. Will take time for body to clear drug. Many hours.”
Wyatt released a breath and rubbed a weary hand over his face; they’d all already been up for two days searching for Glitch and the stubble on his jaw scratched at his palm. “All right, let’s get him home.”
He had one hand tucked under Glitch’s shoulder, the other hand curled firmly around Glitch’s forearm, when he realized he was being watched. Dropping Glitch’s arm in shock, Wyatt leaned down and pressed his hand instead to Glitch’s icy cheek. “Glitch? Can you talk? Understand me?”
Glitch blinked up at him slowly, his eyes sharp for only a brief second before they glazed over and Glitch rolled his head to the side, drifting in a drugged haze. The hand Wyatt had dropped shot out and smacked against Wyatt’s chest, as uncoordinated as it was limp. Glitch closed his eyes again, but his whole body convulsed, heels digging into the dirt floor and back arching, shoulders pushing solidly against the ground.
Raw and Wyatt scrambled to restrict the restless movements, letting Glitch thrash but not allowing him to hurt himself as he clearly struggled against some unseen agony. When it finally passed and Glitch slumped, panting as if he had been running for hours, Wyatt took the opportunity to pull Glitch’s arm around his own shoulders and heave him into a sitting position. “Come on,” he urged, waiting until Raw was supporting Glitch’s other side the same way before they both climbed to their feet. “Jeb, head up and make sure they’ve got a car ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeb shot up the stairs, moving faster than Wyatt had ever seen him.
That’s my kid, Wyatt thought, then turned his attention to getting Glitch’s lifeless body up to the ground floor, Raw taking most of the weight.
Next thing Wyatt knew, he and Glitch had been tucked into the back seat of a large transport wagon. Jeb was driving and DG in front with him, while Raw had climbed into the seat behind Wyatt so he could reach over and help on the way.
The ride itself was torturous and appalling, a combination brought on by the winding forest roads and Jeb’s driving. Glitch remained in a half-aware state the entire way, mumbling nonsense and writhing helplessly against Wyatt. His face was more often than not pressed firmly against Wyatt’s shoulder, his hand full of Wyatt’s shirt as he muffled the harsh cries that escaped.
Wyatt held him, tighter that he ever had before. It was hell and there was nothing anyone could do to help Glitch. He’d been tortured and flooded with drugs that in a normal person would simply loosen the tongue but in Glitch’s case, had proven terrifyingly hallucinogenic and excruciatingly painful.
~~
When they reached the palace, the whole group headed straight for Wyatt and Glitch’s suite, ignoring the medics who met them in the foyer. There was nothing they could do, anyway.
DG and Jeb busied themselves with remaking the bed, tracking down ice water and clean face cloths, and gathering spare blankets for the three extra guests who would be taking up temporary residence in the suite until Glitch got through this. They ignored the sounds coming from the bathroom, the first place Raw and Wyatt had taken Glitch.
~~
“He’s got nothing left to throw up, “ Wyatt grimaced as Glitch continued to cough into the toilet. Between bouts of sickness, Raw and Wyatt had managed to get Glitch out of his torn and filthy clothes, washed off quickly in a warm, shallow bath and wrapped in a thick blanket. Neither could be bothered to think of Glitch’s pride at a time like this; they knew Jeb and DG couldn’t care less about Glitch’s state of dress, not when they were more concerned about his state of body and mind.
Raw placed his hand on the small of Glitch’s back, rubbing gently. “Not much longer. This part will pass.”
“Good to know,” Wyatt sighed and used a wet cloth to clean Glitch’s face. Glitch sighed and lost his balance, slowly tilting to the side until Wyatt caught him. Wyatt took a long moment to just hold Glitch, smoothing the damp and matted hair that was tucked under his chin. Raising his eyes, he exchanged a look with Raw. “Glitch, if you can understand me, you’ve got to give me some clue here.”
Glitch reached up and groped at the air blindly, not making contact with anything in particular.
“Right,” Wyatt whispered roughly and pulled Glitch’s arm around his shoulders again. “Up we go. There’s a nice cool, clean bed waiting for you. How’s that sound?”
In response, Glitch fumbled with the things next to the sink, knocking over an empty cup and the toothbrush holder. A disturbing giggle emerged and then his legs gave out so quickly Wyatt and Raw had to rush to keep him from hitting his head on the edge of the counter.
For the sake of expediency, Raw hunched down and scooped Glitch into his arms, hauling him up off the floor. Wyatt led the way back into the main bedroom area, where DG and Jeb had taken over two plush armchairs near the largest window. The two of them stayed where they were, ready to help but not wanting to get in the way.
“In you go,” Wyatt kept up his running commentary, if only to hear something vaguely resembling normality. It took four hands and a knee to get Glitch to stay on the bed but once he was there, sleep caught up with him like a train wreck: hard and fast.
Once Glitch was settled and sleeping his way through the overdose, Wyatt finally let himself collapse. He ended up on the bed alongside Glitch, only his head was on the wrong end of the bed.
He didn’t care.
Raw stretched out across the foot of the bed, his head close to Wyatt’s. A huge sigh flowed from him, then he laid his head on his crossed arms and was out like a light.
“I’ll take first watch,” DG announced, though Jeb was the only one left awake anyway. “Might as well catch a nap while you can.”
Jeb blinked blurrily, tearing his gaze away from Glitch. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, sniffing loudly. “I really hope he’s going to be okay.”
DG pushed her hair back from her face. “We’ll make sure of it.”
~~
Wyatt was torn from his much-needed sleep by the sound of DG shouting “Hey!” and he bolted upright, trying to figure out what she was on about. Then he heard a loud thump and realized Glitch had found his way out from the bedcovers and onto the floor.
“Crap,” Wyatt scrambled over the tangled linens and onto the floor himself, catching Glitch around the waist with his arm. “No, you don’t.”
Glitch gave a pitiful wail and struggled with what strength he could muster, which wasn’t much. “...let me go let me go I want to go home...” he muttered rapidly, words running together until they became a mess of vowels.
Wyatt felt Raw join them on the floor, saw DG’s legs nearby. Their support was heartening, as the words that poured from Glitch’s mouth were almost enough to make Wyatt weep. “Shhh,” he hushed Glitch, soothing him the best he could by rubbing his hands up and down Glitch’s arms. “You’re home now, sweetheart. This is home. We’re all here.”
But Glitch showed no sign of understanding, keeping up his escape attempt until he eventually exhausted himself and passed out again.
The rest of the night dragged on in this fashion; Glitch would wake disoriented and convinced he was still a prisoner. That was what the drug did to him, Raw had explained. It did what the headcasing had intended, to a fuller degree: made Glitch a prisoner of his own mind. The effect was excruciating for those who loved him, those who stayed by his side through the worst of it. To see him suffering, fighting for freedom he had already gained – it tore at the heart.
~~
Morning came and with it, four pairs of tired, worried eyes watched as Glitch shifted from unconsciousness into awareness. It was slow but when he finally looked at them with clear, if uncertain, eyes, the whole group gave a sigh of relief.
Wyatt sat next to Glitch, DG right behind him, while Raw took his place at Glitch’s feet and Jeb stood sentry on the opposite side from his father. It was Wyatt who spoke first. “You with us now?”
Glitch glanced around and gave a shaky nod. “I think so,” he rasped, licking his lips. “Something bad happened to me, didn’t it?”
“Do you remember anything of the last few days?”
Glitch shook his head then winced. “My head’s killing me.”
“Let me get you some water and aspirin,” DG stood and went off toward the bathroom, returning a moment later with the promised items.
Wyatt helped Glitch sit up and held the cup steady. While Glitch swallowed the medication and drank ravenously, Jeb took the opportunity to rearrange the pillows so Glitch could lean back against them.
“Must have been a hell of a few days,” Glitch said softly, sinking back and closing his eyes.
“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed tightly, leaning forward to press his lips firmly against Glitch’s temple. “I hope you never remember them.”
~~
End
Title: Proper Care For The Discarded
Rating: R (implied violence)
Pairing/Characters: Glitch/Wyatt, DG, Raw, Jeb
Words: ~2000
Summary: “Dad – wait, it’s – “ Jeb tried to restrain Wyatt at the midpoint of the stairs but there was no point; Wyatt had already seen the body on the dirt floor.
“Here, he’s in here,” Jeb’s voice echoed in the now-silent stairwell that led to an unfinished basement. The walls were boarded up with mold-blackened planks and there was water gathering in the farthest corner. Not that Wyatt cared about the house’s condition; the owners were dead on the kitchen floor upstairs. The treacherous sons of bitches.
Wyatt shoved his gun into the holster hanging at his hip and pushed past two of his guardsmen, back up sent along with him in case the hostage takers put up a fight. Which they had; thankfully, no one but them had been hurt and that meant Raw was free to focus on the person who needed his attention the most.
Glitch.
“Dad – wait, it’s – “ Jeb tried to restrain Wyatt at the midpoint of the stairs but there was no point; Wyatt had already seen the body on the dirt floor. The only illumination in the basement was a single dusty, yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling but that was enough. Enough to identify Glitch’s familiar form sprawled haphazardly, as if dragged carelessly and dropped thoughtlessly; discarded.
“Oh, gods,” Wyatt stumbled down the next two steps but made it to the bottom; he could hear Raw’s heavy tread thundering down the steps and DG’s gasp at the top of the stairs. Voices upstairs hollered indiscriminately.
It all blurred in the background, meaningless. All Wyatt could see was the red and black striped shirt that was now brushing the heel of his hand. The shockingly white skin of Glitch’s throat, face turned to the side and more pale than ever before. Dried blood under his nose, mouth slightly ajar and air rasping past cracked, bluish lips.
“Dad, look at his arm,” Jeb’s voice was so close to his ear that Wyatt jerked involuntarily, having forgotten he was not there alone. Wyatt looked up and saw Jeb gently, so gently, turning Glitch’s arm over to expose a large ragged hole torn just below the elbow of the sleeve. The skin was bruised and marked with several tiny puncture wounds.
“Damn,” Wyatt sighed breathlessly, pressing his hand to Glitch’s chest with renewed alarm. The beat was there against his palm but not the one he had grown familiar with. This one was slow, hardly discernable between the shallow breaths. “They must have drugged him to get him to talk. Bastards probably didn’t even realize what that kind of dosage would do to someone like Glitch.”
“Or care,” Jeb added, then moved out of the way to let Raw kneel at Glitch’s side.
Raw touched Glitch’s obvious injuries gently: the wrist that was at a horrifically wrong angle was soon adjusted to its proper position, the cuts from a knife that marred Glitch’s ribcage. He stroked Glitch’s head with great care, but gave a low growl at whatever it was he had seen. “Confusion,” he rumbled. “Turmoil. Will take time for body to clear drug. Many hours.”
Wyatt released a breath and rubbed a weary hand over his face; they’d all already been up for two days searching for Glitch and the stubble on his jaw scratched at his palm. “All right, let’s get him home.”
He had one hand tucked under Glitch’s shoulder, the other hand curled firmly around Glitch’s forearm, when he realized he was being watched. Dropping Glitch’s arm in shock, Wyatt leaned down and pressed his hand instead to Glitch’s icy cheek. “Glitch? Can you talk? Understand me?”
Glitch blinked up at him slowly, his eyes sharp for only a brief second before they glazed over and Glitch rolled his head to the side, drifting in a drugged haze. The hand Wyatt had dropped shot out and smacked against Wyatt’s chest, as uncoordinated as it was limp. Glitch closed his eyes again, but his whole body convulsed, heels digging into the dirt floor and back arching, shoulders pushing solidly against the ground.
Raw and Wyatt scrambled to restrict the restless movements, letting Glitch thrash but not allowing him to hurt himself as he clearly struggled against some unseen agony. When it finally passed and Glitch slumped, panting as if he had been running for hours, Wyatt took the opportunity to pull Glitch’s arm around his own shoulders and heave him into a sitting position. “Come on,” he urged, waiting until Raw was supporting Glitch’s other side the same way before they both climbed to their feet. “Jeb, head up and make sure they’ve got a car ready.”
“Yes, sir,” Jeb shot up the stairs, moving faster than Wyatt had ever seen him.
That’s my kid, Wyatt thought, then turned his attention to getting Glitch’s lifeless body up to the ground floor, Raw taking most of the weight.
Next thing Wyatt knew, he and Glitch had been tucked into the back seat of a large transport wagon. Jeb was driving and DG in front with him, while Raw had climbed into the seat behind Wyatt so he could reach over and help on the way.
The ride itself was torturous and appalling, a combination brought on by the winding forest roads and Jeb’s driving. Glitch remained in a half-aware state the entire way, mumbling nonsense and writhing helplessly against Wyatt. His face was more often than not pressed firmly against Wyatt’s shoulder, his hand full of Wyatt’s shirt as he muffled the harsh cries that escaped.
Wyatt held him, tighter that he ever had before. It was hell and there was nothing anyone could do to help Glitch. He’d been tortured and flooded with drugs that in a normal person would simply loosen the tongue but in Glitch’s case, had proven terrifyingly hallucinogenic and excruciatingly painful.
~~
When they reached the palace, the whole group headed straight for Wyatt and Glitch’s suite, ignoring the medics who met them in the foyer. There was nothing they could do, anyway.
DG and Jeb busied themselves with remaking the bed, tracking down ice water and clean face cloths, and gathering spare blankets for the three extra guests who would be taking up temporary residence in the suite until Glitch got through this. They ignored the sounds coming from the bathroom, the first place Raw and Wyatt had taken Glitch.
~~
“He’s got nothing left to throw up, “ Wyatt grimaced as Glitch continued to cough into the toilet. Between bouts of sickness, Raw and Wyatt had managed to get Glitch out of his torn and filthy clothes, washed off quickly in a warm, shallow bath and wrapped in a thick blanket. Neither could be bothered to think of Glitch’s pride at a time like this; they knew Jeb and DG couldn’t care less about Glitch’s state of dress, not when they were more concerned about his state of body and mind.
Raw placed his hand on the small of Glitch’s back, rubbing gently. “Not much longer. This part will pass.”
“Good to know,” Wyatt sighed and used a wet cloth to clean Glitch’s face. Glitch sighed and lost his balance, slowly tilting to the side until Wyatt caught him. Wyatt took a long moment to just hold Glitch, smoothing the damp and matted hair that was tucked under his chin. Raising his eyes, he exchanged a look with Raw. “Glitch, if you can understand me, you’ve got to give me some clue here.”
Glitch reached up and groped at the air blindly, not making contact with anything in particular.
“Right,” Wyatt whispered roughly and pulled Glitch’s arm around his shoulders again. “Up we go. There’s a nice cool, clean bed waiting for you. How’s that sound?”
In response, Glitch fumbled with the things next to the sink, knocking over an empty cup and the toothbrush holder. A disturbing giggle emerged and then his legs gave out so quickly Wyatt and Raw had to rush to keep him from hitting his head on the edge of the counter.
For the sake of expediency, Raw hunched down and scooped Glitch into his arms, hauling him up off the floor. Wyatt led the way back into the main bedroom area, where DG and Jeb had taken over two plush armchairs near the largest window. The two of them stayed where they were, ready to help but not wanting to get in the way.
“In you go,” Wyatt kept up his running commentary, if only to hear something vaguely resembling normality. It took four hands and a knee to get Glitch to stay on the bed but once he was there, sleep caught up with him like a train wreck: hard and fast.
Once Glitch was settled and sleeping his way through the overdose, Wyatt finally let himself collapse. He ended up on the bed alongside Glitch, only his head was on the wrong end of the bed.
He didn’t care.
Raw stretched out across the foot of the bed, his head close to Wyatt’s. A huge sigh flowed from him, then he laid his head on his crossed arms and was out like a light.
“I’ll take first watch,” DG announced, though Jeb was the only one left awake anyway. “Might as well catch a nap while you can.”
Jeb blinked blurrily, tearing his gaze away from Glitch. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers, sniffing loudly. “I really hope he’s going to be okay.”
DG pushed her hair back from her face. “We’ll make sure of it.”
~~
Wyatt was torn from his much-needed sleep by the sound of DG shouting “Hey!” and he bolted upright, trying to figure out what she was on about. Then he heard a loud thump and realized Glitch had found his way out from the bedcovers and onto the floor.
“Crap,” Wyatt scrambled over the tangled linens and onto the floor himself, catching Glitch around the waist with his arm. “No, you don’t.”
Glitch gave a pitiful wail and struggled with what strength he could muster, which wasn’t much. “...let me go let me go I want to go home...” he muttered rapidly, words running together until they became a mess of vowels.
Wyatt felt Raw join them on the floor, saw DG’s legs nearby. Their support was heartening, as the words that poured from Glitch’s mouth were almost enough to make Wyatt weep. “Shhh,” he hushed Glitch, soothing him the best he could by rubbing his hands up and down Glitch’s arms. “You’re home now, sweetheart. This is home. We’re all here.”
But Glitch showed no sign of understanding, keeping up his escape attempt until he eventually exhausted himself and passed out again.
The rest of the night dragged on in this fashion; Glitch would wake disoriented and convinced he was still a prisoner. That was what the drug did to him, Raw had explained. It did what the headcasing had intended, to a fuller degree: made Glitch a prisoner of his own mind. The effect was excruciating for those who loved him, those who stayed by his side through the worst of it. To see him suffering, fighting for freedom he had already gained – it tore at the heart.
~~
Morning came and with it, four pairs of tired, worried eyes watched as Glitch shifted from unconsciousness into awareness. It was slow but when he finally looked at them with clear, if uncertain, eyes, the whole group gave a sigh of relief.
Wyatt sat next to Glitch, DG right behind him, while Raw took his place at Glitch’s feet and Jeb stood sentry on the opposite side from his father. It was Wyatt who spoke first. “You with us now?”
Glitch glanced around and gave a shaky nod. “I think so,” he rasped, licking his lips. “Something bad happened to me, didn’t it?”
“Do you remember anything of the last few days?”
Glitch shook his head then winced. “My head’s killing me.”
“Let me get you some water and aspirin,” DG stood and went off toward the bathroom, returning a moment later with the promised items.
Wyatt helped Glitch sit up and held the cup steady. While Glitch swallowed the medication and drank ravenously, Jeb took the opportunity to rearrange the pillows so Glitch could lean back against them.
“Must have been a hell of a few days,” Glitch said softly, sinking back and closing his eyes.
“Yeah,” Wyatt agreed tightly, leaning forward to press his lips firmly against Glitch’s temple. “I hope you never remember them.”
~~
End
