Title: Bright as a Beacon, Chapter 1

Author: digitalruki

Rating: PG

Characters: Glitch/DG

Summary: Sequel to "Headcase". DG's quest through the eyes of her most loyal friend, Glitch.

Author's Note & Disclaimer: I don't own Tin Man. I wrote a chapter preceding this, but it was terrible so I've scrapped it. Any feedback on this fic would be most welcome.

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Glitch used to be a brilliant inventor. Ideas would spill out of his head faster than he could write them down, and he could tackle any puzzle he was presented with.

But that was then, and this is Glitch, and Glitch hasn't been concerned much with puzzles lately. He's been distracted by the great big Nothing that fills his head.

Right now he's distracted by the smell of DG's hair, inches from his face.

Crouched behind a tree trunk, huddled close together, holding their breath and stretching their ears to pick out the sound of tiny footsteps following their trail. Having made their escape from the Eastern Guild, the possibility that they might be persued hasn't escaped them.

But he's not thinking about that right now, because right now he's distracted by the smell of DG's hair. Inches from his face. And right now an idea, small as a spider but bright as a beacon, is forming in his head.

It had started some time ago, when, during the course of his wanderings, he had felt a curious sensation on the side of his body. To be more specific, it had been coming from the east. From that horizon he felt a pull, a calling. And, being a man with no direction or purpose, he had decided that now was as good a time as any to make one.

He had walked, and walked, and walked, each day becoming more and more certain of the feet under him, and the path far ahead. Unfortunately, his growing elation was cut short one morning by the Eastern Guild.

It was almost embarressing for one of his former intellect that he had been captured so easily. (But, to be fair, when your brain doesn't technically exist, it's easy to get distracted.) He had been thinking how nice a day it was. The sky was cloudy, the wind was blowing, and he felt amazing. Like, if he tried to remember something today, he would absolutely be able to.

And then she appeared, like a cool summer rain, and now he just can't stop thinking about her. He can't explain it, but he knows. His newfound clarity and her sudden appearance are connected. He also knows that he really, really likes...being able to think.

"I don't hear them anymore, do you?" she whispers, craning her neck around the tree trunk and, coincedentally, his shoulders. He shudders as her hair brushes against his nose.

His current level of awareness is similar that of being slightly drunk, which, for Glitch, is an improvement. Unfortunately, this means he can't fully control his mouth, and he finds it answering for him in a high-pitched voice, "Your hair is tickling my nose."

Which doesn't answer her question. DG takes this to mean that his ticklishness is more pressing than their escape status, and quickly sits back, flipping her hair behind her shoulders. "Sorry, are you okay?" she says, putting her hand on his shoulder. She seems to think he meant that he was uncomfortable with her hair tickling his nose. And that touching him on the shoulder will really help. Focus, Glitch. What was her first question?

The munchkins. "I don't hear them." he squeaks, leaning over to peer around and feeling her hand slip from his shoulder to the ground. Oh well. "I don't see them either." Scanning the horizon, he adds, "I don't hear them either." He sits back down beside her and smiles reassuringly. "I think we're safe."

She buries her face in her hands, rubbing hard at her temples. "Oh, God," she groans, "What the hell am I doing here?"

Even before he thinks that he should comfort her, he finds his hand is already patting her head. His acute muscle memory still suprises him. "If it makes you feel any better," he says, "I have absolutely no idea."

She's silent and motionless long enough for him to worry if that was maybe the wrong thing to say. His hand pulls back, but he's startled when she quickly raises her head to look at him. Her face is oddly curious, but not mad. She just looks at him.

He figures since she's looking, it won't hurt to look back. So he does. Looks at her slightly scrunched eyebrows, the way her hair looks like it's windswept even when she's still. Looks at her eyes, practically glowing, they're so bright. He can almost see the magic flowing off her. And he thinks, if he could just speak her name, right now, while she's looking at him, he'll remember something really important. DG--

"Oh, no!" she bursts out. Startled, he realizes belatedly how close they just were. Now she's leaning back, clutching her throat, glancing around their tree trunk anxiously. "My locket. I forgot to get my locket!" She stumbles, tripping over a root as she tries to stand up. She's trying to run back and get it.

He grabs for her as she scuttles out of their hiding place. "No, DG, wait!", he hisses, pulling her back to her knees. She looks at him, maybe waiting for him to tell her why exactly she should stick around. "There are longcoats and murderous little people running around out there. Besides," he reasons, and hey, he used to be the smartest man in the O.Z., right? "It was just a necklace. A trinket. Surely your life is more--"

"More, what, huh?" she interjects. From somewhere in his head a little voice tells him not to answer. She still waits to see if he does, but he keeps his grimy lips shut.

"There was a picture of my parents in that locket," she says, kind of in a whisper, like she's trying to hide the squeak in her voice. "Parents who, for all I know, are dead on the side of the road to Central City or wherever, while I'm stuck here in Grimm's Forest with--" Her eyes land on his forehead, on the zipper. And he has the stongest urge to just cover it with his hand, but then he realizes she's not really looking at it. She's shaking her head a little. So many thoughts are swimming in her eyes.

"Look, I'm just gonna...go," she says, rising. The moment she steps out from the behind the tree, his breath is pulled out of him. He tries to stop her again, but he can't form the words. He makes the brief observation that he can feel thought leaving him, washing away as easily as chalk on a blackboard, and if he could only say something to make her stay--

"I don't think--" he begins, and then stops, because that's just it, isn't it. DG stops walking, anyway, and looks back with just the slightest bit of curiosity. He laughs nervously, and shrugs. "No, I mean, I do think. That's just it." She turns around now, and crosses her arms. He feels slightly clearer. "When you're not around, I can't think straight."

"What?" she says, and maybe she isn't so much touched as she is freaked out. Okay, not the best way to put it.

"My brain," he begins, as he points to where it's supposed to be. He gets up, and steps forward, because now at least he has her attention. "What those medicoats did to it, see, wasn't just to block out memories. They took away my ability to...to..." He flails, trying to illustrate the universe with his hands. "Form thoughts. Solve puzzles. Be any kind of a threat. But I am."

She's still there, and hey, he can talk again. Splendid. "Look at me. Here I am talking to you, like a normal person. A day ago, that would have been impossible."

She shifts her weight, saying, "You think I've got something to do with that?"

He nods. "Yes."

She looks back towards the direction of the Eastern Guild, towards her locket, and then in the opposite direction. Calmly considering her options, he figures. But then she looks back to him. Looking, for all the world, like a lost little girl.

And, just like that, he knows what she needs to hear. "Let's find your parents, DG," he says, and turns to walk down the path. He raises his arm, offering it to her. "Let's figure this out. Together."

With one last glance back, perhaps, to the shredded remains of her home, she steps forward and wraps her arm in his.