I didn't like the room. It was large and, at the moment, dark. The worktable was covered with drawings in a hand I didn't recognize and bits of half completed contraptions I couldn't remember inventing. The walls had more sketches tacked to them in that same hand. The bed was big and the furnishings were rich and heavy. There was something oppressive about it. I didn't like it.
I was curled up in the middle of the huge bed, trying to pretend the room wasn't there, but I could feel it lurking in the darkness. When I could stand it no longer, I got up, lit a candle, and went over to the long, wooden table. I ran my fingers over the images and words, willing something – anything – to look familiar.
There was nothing familiar.
I sighed. Whoever had drawn these pictures, invented these machines, written these descriptions, was gone, was dead.
"Let it go," said a low voice.
I whipped around, my eyes wide with shock.
"Cain!" I exclaimed in a whispered cry. "What are you doing here?"
"I was walking past and I heard you bumping around and I wanted to make sure you were Okay." He shrugged, looking embarrassed.
"I don't remember any of these things," I sighed, turning my attention back to the table.
"You don't have to," he said crossing over to me.
"This is supposed to be my room, from before, but I feel like I've never seen it in my life. I don't even like it! How could I have liked this room? It's so heavy. Are you sure this was my room? Are you sure this was my room? Are you-?"
"That's what the queen said," he reminded me, cutting off my glitching.
"I know." I stared dispiritedly at the contraptions my hands had made, but my broken brain could not recall.
"If you don't want to stay here tonight, come sleep in my room," he said turning to the door.
"Really?" I asked quickly, feeling my heart skip a beat at this uncharacteristically kind offer.
"Sure, come on, headcase."
I picked up the candle and hurried off after him.
"So why were you wandering around in the middle of the night?" I asked.
"Couldn't sleep either."
"Oh."
When we reached Cain's room, he opened the door and I followed him inside. This room was smaller and cozier. It was a in a side branch of the castle, unlike my room, and the furnishings weren't as rich, but I immediately felt more at home.
"It's smaller than yours," he muttered, taking my candle and setting on the bedside table.
"I like it a lot better," I said bluntly with a smile.
Cain sighed, sat down on the edge of the bed, and began taking off his boots.
"Cain?" I asked tentatively, moving towards him.
"Hm?"
"Are you going to stay?"
"Here?"
"In the castle," I explained, not looking at him. "Are you going to stay here or go back to the country or something?"
"I guess I'll stay here," he said as if he hadn't given the matter much attention before. "Someone's gotta look after DG – and you," he added as an after thought.
I felt myself flush.
"Why? You want me to go?"
"No," I said perhaps a bit too quickly. "I was just wondering." I tired to occupy myself by looking around at the dimly lit room.
"Glitch," said Cain.
"Yeah?"
"Did someone say something to you?" he asked slowly.
I cocked my head to one side, confused.
"People talk to me," I offered.
"That's not what I meant. I meant did someone say something to you – about before?"
"Before?"
"Before all this," he gestured around.
"Oh, before this." I tapped the zipper in my head.
"Yeah."
I thought for a moment.
"Not really. I mean, I can't help remembering that I can't remember. There's more not the remember here than out there." I realized after I'd spoken that I hadn't made a lot of sense, but Cain seemed satisfied with the answer, as he was silent for a few minutes.
"You don't have to try to go back to being Ambrose, you know," he said quietly.
"What?" I asked, startled.
"You can just be Glitch. There's nothing wrong with that."
"But I'm useless," I protested. Being like this in the castle – in front of the queen – was quite frankly embarrassing. "I used to be the highest advisor to the queen and now." I spread my arms to show my current state. "I mean, look at me, Cain."
"I am," he said getting up and crossing to me.
"Then you can see why- Why I've got to figure out a way- A way to- to-." I struggled to get the words out.
"What I see," said Cain, overriding my stammerings with his strong voice, "is a unique man who's probably far more interesting than some advisor to the queen with far too brilliant a smile to look so sad."
"Cain?"
"I see deep brown eyes, an interesting choice in hairstyle, a curious mind, and a loving heart."
"Cain, I don't understand."
"Don't you, sweetheart?"
"No..."
He was very close to me now and he reached out and brushed the backs of his fingers against my cheek. It felt nice. His fingers found my chin and lifted my face so that my eyes met his eyes. There was something odd sparkling in those blue eyes. I wondered what it was. His face was only inches from mine and then he was kissing me.
For a moment I was too surprised to do anything, but soon I felt my eyes drifting shut as I melted into him. His hand was on my check again and his other arm was wrapped around my waist, pulling me close.
When he broke the kiss, I wanted to stop him.
"Just be you, sweetheart," he whispered.
"Cain," was all I could say.
I couldn't get my half a brain around it. It was way too much. Cain had kissed me. Kissed me! Cain hardly even liked me, right? I drove him crazy. Don't get me wrong, I thought he was wonderful, but he found me annoying. So why? And I had liked it, hadn't I? Was that Okay? Was I allowed to like having Cain kiss me? Should I have liked it?
Something of my confusing must have shown on my face.
"It's Okay," he said softly. "I love you."
That was all I needed to hear.
I couldn't stop myself.
I flung my arms around Cain's neck and kissed him.
He had a much better reaction time than I did. His arms were tightly around my waist again in an instant and he was kissing me with a strange combination of passion, tenderness, and need.
"Cain, I love you," I said breathlessly when we broke apart. "I love you!" I was laughing. How had I not known it before? How had I missed this? I didn't need anything else. I didn't need to know anything else. If I had Cain, what else was there to need? "But is that Okay?" I asked, my shattered mind swinging back to worry. "Are we allowed?"
Cain smirked in a way that seemed to say "who cares?"
"Love is always allowed," he told me gently.
I smiled happily for a moment and then my brain jumped back to my first questions. "Cain, how? Why?" I asked in confusion.
"What?" Clearly I'd thrown him off.
"I mean, I didn't think you liked me." I lowered my eyes, blushing.
"Sweetheart, you're crazy, you're too optimistic, you've got way too much energy, you can't focus on anything for more than about ten seconds, and you could drive a fellow insane, but I love you and that's what matters."
God, he was so wonderful. How in the OZ did I deserve this man?
"Cain, I-," I began, not really sure what I was going to say to him.
"Hush, headcase," he told me, pressing a finger against my lips. "I know I haven't always been, well, I haven't always treated you right. But I didn't know what to do with my feelings. I'm sorry. I won't let anything hurt you anymore."
"Cain, I think she wants me to do it," I said quietly, stepping away from him and looking out the dark window.
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," he said, understanding what I'd meant.
"But she's the queen," I protested. "What she says goes, right?"
"She can't control who you are. Anyway, she's a good person; she won't force you."
"Do you really think it's Okay to be like this?" I asked, my eyes still searching the blackness beyond the window.
"Of course I do."
"I don't think I want to go back to how I was," I said slowly. "What if I don't like it? What if I forget everything that I have now?"
"Then don't do it. It's as simple as that." He walked over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder.
I reached up and gently laid my hand on his.
We stood in silence for a long time just enjoying one another's presence. I couldn't ever remember being this happy before and I doubted I ever had been. From what I'd been told, I'd never been in love before; I hadn't been the type.
"Come on, sweetheart, let's get some sleep," said Cain.
I liked the room. It was cozy and, at the moment, dark. Cain's strong arms were around me, holding me close and keeping me warm. The walls shielded us from anything still wrong in the OZ. The bed was soft and warm, just like the man in whose arms I lay. There was something wonderfully safe about it. I didn't like it; I loved it. It was heaven.