Author's notes: This is a death-fic. I actually do not recall writing it.
Weird. But, I found it recently, and thought it decent. So, here it is.
Of course, everything belongs to whom ever. And I hold no claim to it.
(Except the last period. I claim that one as mine. =D)
So, enjoy, get depressed, as you please.
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Ambrose clung tighter. Sweat pouring from his face, and his eyes squeezed shut. The tension in his arms making them cramp. He had to be gentle. Receiving enough air escaped him for a moment. All he got was smoke crawling in and scratching his lungs. "Quiet." His soft words were cut off when he could not catch another breath.
There was screaming. Two voices screeching. Unearthly. Unbearable. As his hands began to shake, and he felt the heat burning the clothing on his back, He wanted to reach up and unbutton the top of his coat. But, he could not. His left hand was clinging to a rug, holding him up. The right was fastened tightly as a protector.
The screaming grew to a new peak. Making his breath labored, the smoke grew thicker. His voice had not joined the cries. Not yet. He would not give anyone the pleasure of his screaming. He'd only once been so weak, and he'd sworn never again.
He coughed, gasping in vain for some clear air, he felt his knees collapse. Falling completely to the floor, his chest pressed on the soft white cloth under him.
Crackling, loud and dry like a desert, the room rang intermediately with the shrieks and sobs. He could do nothing. All he could do was stay here.
As the skin on the back of his neck blistered, he dug his fingers into the carpet. There was no coolness there. There was nothing in the entire room. What he wouldn't give for a drink.
He remembered dancing in the rain with a girl once. She was a lovely lass…
His logical mind swiftly diagnosed that this as the 'Life flashing before your eyes' moment. While he crouched on the floor, and he took another ragged gasp of ash and ember filled oxygen. He calculated the time he would have until he would die.
Oh, most unfortunate.
With how slowly the images moved, he would not see it all before…
Then, he would speed it up. Simple as that. He would visit the best moments of his life, that would save him from missing anything. At least, anything he wished to remember.
As he gasped, his eyes were tightly closed. Fearing the sight should he open them. Where to begin? The best place was the beginning, of course. His brain must have been dulled by the lack of air.
The most memorable 'good times' of his life? He nodded as the first image came. He did not smile, but, he remembered.
Screaming was suddenly quieted. But, the silence didn't affect Ambrose at all. At this moment, he heard a loud cheer...
Ozma smiled, DG was laughing, Az was smiling her smug smile and Ahamo….was doing what ever the useless man did. As the picture grew broader, Ambrose heard the chatter of voices, and felt the light touch of small flecks of Paper and sparkles land on his hands and face. DG seemed to just beam with pleasure, Az cupped her hands over her stomach. He looked back to DG, her eyes shining so brightly! It was almost like having a family.
An evening, soft, warm, light around him. Finaqua. He chanced a glance at the woman to his side. She was just as soft and warm. He closed his eyes again. This was the perfect evening. Perfect. He stopped staring, just to look up at the cold moon. Ready to take it's domain. The girl stirred, and he helped her get up off the picnic blanket. Arm in arm, they headed for the castle.
Blue eyes. Wonderfully blue! Brilliantly blue! Slightly… confused blue. DG was the name, and she was a bucket of spunk. Or, so it seemed. He fell a little, not quite as graceful as it should have been. Made the cage sway as he came down. Had to look best he could, smooth coat, check for any dirt on his hands. Staring. He reached to his head, and closed it. Slightly ashamed. She was daring. Unafraid. It was nice to be around someone like that.
Owe you one. Owe you one…what did that mean? It was a nice idea. Nice to have someone watching out for you. One of his few friends. Cain. Tin Man. Boy-scout. Smiling with pleasure, Glitch settled into a corner, and just rambled. He had a captive audience. Sure, Cain had a gun. But, Glitch knew when to stop talking. At least, he knew to stop before he got shot. Usually.
Selfish. Oh, he knew it was. He was sure of it. But, itwas so hard not to be proud. And sad. Everything at once! Smiles. So many smiles. All those blue eyes glittering with tears. Tin Man was even crying. Trying not to show it, but, he was. DG held up one small bundle, and her smile... Cain took his daughter and rocked her gently. Straight backed, but, smiling as much as his wife. DG looked worn out... It was the happiest moment of his… their lives. Not getting his brain back, not saving the OZ. Nothing, nothing, could make him happier then he was now. In a dimly light room, with a new Princess of the OZ.
"Ambrose Crow, Advisor to the Queen. You are hereby appointed God-Father to these children, Princesses, Gale and Glinda Cain. They will be under your protection, and your care until the day you die." DG had someone else prepare the speech. It was a little too long. The tail end being the most important part. As Ambrose kneeled before DG, and she leaned down to give him the customary kiss on the cheek. Her voice echoed in his ear, whispered gently. "Welcome to the family, Glitch."
Ambrose crumbled completely. His eyes finally watering from something other then the smoke. He smiled a little, as his grip tightened. The wailing had stopped. It'd been silent a worryingly long time now. He pushed his left arm under himself to support his weight. Now he could see the two bundles he'd been protecting.
His hand tensed as he felt a convulsion make his body tense and release. Never freeing his right hand, he pushed himself up on his knees again. Allowing a whimper to escape his lips, the sound grew as he began whispering.
Four brilliantly blue eyes, innocent eyes, frightened eyes… looked at him in confusion. He rubbed his thumb over the tiny pink hands in the grasp of his right hand. The glowing shelter surrounded his hand, and he could see his un-burned skin still strong. His hazy eyes gazed at his left hand. It was hardly identifiable. He swallowed the horror in his throat. Looking back at children's hands forcibly clasped together, His own engulfing them and keeping them clutching one another. "Two little Princesses, Dancing in a row…" He had no talent in singing. Not like DG. But, to keep them from wailing again, he'd sing them a final lullaby. "-No one ever knows..."
-20 Minutes Later-
"Cain!" DG jumped from the royal car. She hit the ground, stumbled a moment, and then sprinted. She could hear her Husband close behind her. He caught up, She dared to look at him. He was focused on the house. Terror filled her, and she felt hot tears pour down her face.
The message was clear enough. Arson, deliberate and effective. There had only been moments before all the exits were engulfed in flames.
Men dressed in red slick coats were pouring buckets of foam on the burning building. DG pushed past them, headed for the door. "No! You can't do that!" A man in red grabbed her and wrestled her to the ground. " Sorry, Majesty! It could be unstable! It's too far gone!" He shouted at her, pulling her back. Pulling her away from the building.
Cain had already made it further then she had. She saw another man in red tackle as two more pinned him.
"Who made it out?" She grabbed the man's slicker coat desperately. His filthy face was hesitant. "Only a few of the servants, Majesty."
"My babies are in there!"
Red was holding DG back, She lashed out at the firefighter. But, her Tin Man was the one who pushed him away. Cain wrapped her in a hug, and picked her up. Carrying her away from the building. Setting her a safe distance away. "Wait here. Wait here, Kid." He whispered into her hair. Leaving her alone, he ran back to the mansion. A bucket of foam was soon in his hands.
DG knew she should do the same. But, she couldn't. Watching smoke drift into the sky, and ashes pour back down, she sat in shocked silence.
It still was warm. Sticky and dry heat all at once. Cain had left her outside for the moment. He wanted to check things first. He'd told her she had to keep the others calm, an obvious decoy. He'd be back soon.
Almost everything was ruined. Furniture half burned, smoke singed. With everything so radically changed from the homey mansion that it had been only a few hours ago. He was having a hard time finding the Nursery.
He heard tiny footsteps. His heart froze a moment, and he reached out his hand. A pale trembling one entwined fingers from behind him. "I want to see…" DG's shaky voice said with strength. Cain glanced down at her. She was sure and stubborn, and heartbroken. He lead her solemnly. "You probably shouldn't, Princess."
DG looked up at her husband, "I'm going to see my babies."
The King and Queen of the OZ, Tinman and a Waitress. Her tiny white hand clung to him, and He led her into the room.
He'd seen too much to flinch. As DG closed her eyes, he had no reasons to judge her.
"Glitch." He lead her to the burned over coat. Or, what was left of it. There were rags hanging over a very…hard to recognize body. Cain leaned down, letting his wife still cling to his hand like a tangible ghost. His free hand touched the brittle curls, and the scarred skin. "He's gone, Kid. He's gone." Cain got back to his full height, and looked around the rooms.
"Where are the babies?" DG asked quietly, her voice echoing in the huge empty house. Cain shook his head. "…Gone too." Nothing left of the wooden cribs.
He leaned back down, and studied the body with professional calm. His Tin Man name meant something. Cain was completely shut off from emotion. For now. He took the charred shoulder. "Princess, you might want to leave."
DG held his hand tighter. "I'm staying."
Cain flipped the corpse over. He wanted to place a hand over his wife's eyes. But, she was a big girl, she could…
Under the body, a glowing orb surrounded tiny white bundles.
DG's sobbing came back with vengeance. Cain gently took Glitch's wrist, unburned and still soft. Tugging carefully, the grip released. Limp. Cain set it on Ambrose's chest. His eyes never leaving the tiny clasped hands revealed now. The two princesses began crying. Red with the pressure that had been on them, the fingers separated from one another. Symbols faded from their palms. DG knelt down, as the magical safety faded.
Cain knelt in the ashes with his wife. Feeling the soft skin of Gale's cheek, while she proceeded to continue screaming. It sounded as healthy and reassuring as he dared hope. Cain picked her up, and clutched her to his chest. His wife had Glinda in her arms and was rocking her wildly.
He helped DG to her feet, and led her out of the room. Glancing back over his shoulder, he paused. Warily passing the Gale to her, Cain motioned DG on, kissing her cheek fondly. "I'll be right there."
Alone, Cain looked at the body of Ambrose. He never was a Tin Man, he was never royalty. He was annoying as Glitch, and haughty as Ambrose. But, he was someone Cain never would want to replace.
"You're a deep well, Glitch."
He took off his coat, and placed it over the face of his friend. Clearing his throat, he looked up at the ceiling a moment. There should have been something more to say. But, that oddly was enough.
Cain turned on his heel, and headed outside to be with the people who needed him.
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