Although it was later than he would have liked Glitch simply couldn't sleep. He had grown bored of tossing and turning and was now lying on his back contemplating his hands. Turning them this way and that in front of his face, the dying fire casting them in an orange glow.
He remembered when they would dart backwards and forwards like they had minds of their own, piecing together various pieces that he couldn't even remember the names of now, did he even name them? He furrowed his brow for a moment trying to remember before letting it pass, but some feeling had settled over him, what was it?
Ambrose may have been a brilliant inventor but he honestly couldn't imagine Glitch working on complex machinery. He'd blow it up and then forget what he was doing, or forget what he was doing and then blow it up, or blow it up because he'd forgotten what he was doing, or-
A misfiring synapse halted that train of thought, probably just as well. He now realized what this feeling was: sadness, regret.
A soft mumble followed by a strong arm tightening around his waist bought him back to reality. He turned onto his side and watched Cain, from his slow breathing and relaxed face Glitch could tell the other man was really sleeping, not just pretending as he sometimes did. The tin man's face contorted into some unreadable expression as he started mumbling again, caught in either dream or nightmare. Instinctively, Glitch bought his hand down to rest on the other man's cheek, his thumb gently caressing tanned skin in an attempt to soothe. It did the trick as Cain's face relaxed once again as he leaned into the touch.
Glitch gave a small smile. Gently as he could he lifted one of Cain's hands and placed it on top of his so their palms were flat against each other. He could feel the rough calloused skin on Cain's fingers, not surprising from a life outdoors. A sharp contrast to his-smooth skinned and pale from a life indoors, woman's hands really, although from his years wondering around the O.Z they were starting to go the same way as Cain's.
Even though Glitch would probably never use his hands as he had in he past, he realized it honestly didn't bother him. His machine's never responded to his touches, never caressed him back and were always cold, never warm. In his opinion, since he'd known Cain he'd found much better uses for them. He adjusted his hand so that his and Cain's fingers were interlocked. A perfect fit.