A/N: First off, I wanted to thank everyone for the amazing reviews. I grinned for nearly an hour when Hobbit said I should write for the series and I'm getting to where I always look forward to thoughts from Danibat and CattyRose... my loyal readers! I have loyal readers. That makes me happy like tiny bubbles. Danibat, in the future, if something confuses you tell me where in your review so I know what to fix. I apologize sincerely for not having a beta yet and I really want this story to be as amazing as I can possibly make it. Unfortunately, the only times I have to work on it at the moment are late at night and my brain gets fuzzy. To everyone else, I hope you're enjoying it even if you're not reviewing and as always, I do not own anything. In fact, I believe that the plot bunnies own me.

So without further adieu, I give you DG.

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In spite of the attempts to bring light to Azkadellia's castle… actually more of a fortress … it retained a dark, dingy quality that seemed to shun the light. Evil clung persistently to the walls, determined to remind them at every turn of what happened there. Az said that she would rather have the place torn down as soon as the Northern Islands finished thawing. There had been talk of moving to the palace at Finaqua until that end was achieved, but it lacked medical facilities.

DG wandered aimlessly through the halls in the medical wing as dark thoughts invaded her mind. It had been three hours since she had said goodbye. They had promised to let her in when Raw began his part in the healing of her closest friend… her Ambrose. With the recall of her childhood, thinking of him as Ambrose instead of Glitch was easier for her than it seemed to be for Cain and Raw. It depended on how she thought about him. Past or future he was always Ambrose in her mind, but for the present he was Glitch because it was what he was used to answering to.

He really wasn't all that different without half his brain, but with the hopeful return of his memories and synaptic functions, she worried herself sick about what it would mean for their friendship.

Would the return of his memories spark an irrational need to view her as the child she had been? Would he remember her, or anything, at all? Would he still be her Ambrose?

Don't think things like that. He'll always be your Ambrose.

It had been over three hours and she wondered what was taking them so long. She was supposed to be there in case Raw needed her magic and she was suppose to be there because Glitch asked her to be. As her feet carried her from one end of the hall to the other, she couldn't help but wonder which room had been used for his previous procedure and the walls began to close in around her, the shadows whispering of other evil deeds committed within the dark cells she passed. Ghosts wandered beside her and every once in a while she would place her hands on a particular door and let white light wash over it until she felt the presence leave.

As she released yet another tortured spirit from the dark spell that kept it within the halls she paced, she whispered, "Be at peace."

"Princess," a voice spoke just behind her; unfamiliar and cold. Azkadelia's medicos… alchemists… robots programmed to carry out her possessor's twisted human experiments. Even with the reprogramming, they gave DG the creeps. Unlike her robotic 'parental units' (as she called them to her co-workers in Kansas, not knowing how accurate that description was) there was something very wrong about these beings. But she didn't take the time to contemplate what.

"It's time?" Her voice was high pitched with anxiety and came out in an undignified squeak. At his nod, she brushed past him and entered the operating room.

Her breath caught in her chest at seeing him on the operating table, eyes closed with his long black lashes resting, unmoving on his cheek. The wild curly hair was gone and the zipper gaped open. She had the unnerving thought that she'd never breathe again if his chest didn't rise soon.

"We're going to take him out of stasis now, Princess," that cold voice spoke again. "The Viewer is ready."

Stasis. They had him in a stasis field… put his life on pause… breathe DG.

But she couldn't… not until she saw his chest rise… it hurt so bad to see him so still. People believed that he moved so much, talked so much, because he was a headcase. They assumed, because he didn't know who he was, that he also didn't know when to shut up and sit still. In truth, he was always like that… especially around people he knew. He would chatter with her endlessly when she was a girl because she had been mechanically inclined and was the only person who even remotely understood what he was talking about. As adviser, he knew when to shut up but he never knew when to be still and was always pacing, clicking his pen, or drumming his fingers on the table.

Raw solemnly approached his head and, with great care, gently grasped each side with his leather gloved hands.

The strange medico went to the wall on the other side of the operating table and flipped a switch, there was a blue flash across Ambrose's body that reminded her of a cheep special effect in a B-rated Frankenstein movie, and those long lashes twitched ever so slightly. The movement of his chest was even less noticeable but she could reach out with her magic and feel life in him again, feel him breathing.

Why does this hurt so badly?

She wanted to cry. Already, she missed his hair.

"I wonder if they're gonna shave my head?" Glitch smiled down at her with that perpetual look of curiosity on his face. It was a look of 'what if' that he had since she was little and only completely lost when it was replaced by a look of 'what now'.

Cain, DG and Glitch had spent the day with Jeb, thanking the people involved in the resistance and asking for volunteers to stay. If Az was serious in her plan to rip the place down, there were more than enough people that would be more than happy to see that end… personally. And so they spent the day with the leaders, arranging for explosives already collected by the resisters to be brought in and looking over demolition plans that had been made years ago in hopeful anticipation.

Afterward, they gathered by Jeb's fire and someone a few tents away began to play a guitar as other instruments around the camp joined in and picked out a tune. Many people jumped up and began to dance merrily around fires and trees, and DG watched them with tears in her eyes.

"Why the tears?" Cain was staring at her in concern. "This is a good thing, Kid. They've celebrated like this every night since the witch melted."

"These are happy tears, Mr. Cain." She looked from him to Glitch, who was watching one of the few couples with a wistful expression on his face. On impulse, she grabbed his arm and practically bounced to her feet. "Come on, Glitch. We have things to celebrate, too."

He looked at her like she had a zipper going down the center of her skull. "You want to dance with me?"

She nodded and tugged on his arm with a mischievous smirk on her lips. "Of course I do. I have to see this rhythm of yours for myself."

With a sideways glare at Cain, he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and they danced until the moons were overhead, using the occasional ballad to quietly discuss his upcoming surgery or her concerns for the people surrounding them. Many of them no longer had homes or families to return to and she had been discussing with Az the possibility of allowing them to remain there… giving them the land where so much evil occurred and making something wonderful out of it.

"I wouldn't worry about it, Glitch," she murmured, resting her head against his chest and closing her eyes as someone began to sing a very old song about rainbows and dreams. "If you have to lose your hair to get your marbles back it's a small sacrifice."

And the song continued as they danced and he softly sang along…

"Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me."

Blinking back tears, she focused on her friend lying unconscious before her. Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed that Raw had begun the process of physical healing and she stared in awe as that damned zipper began to peel off as the scalp beneath fused together. Rapid eye movement began about the same time that his hair suddenly started to grow back in and she was momentarily in thankful awe of Raw's abilities as a healer before her thoughts wandered again.

She wondered if his brain was fusing back together along with his cranium. She wondered if he was dreaming about anything now that the familiar signs of dreaming had begun. She wondered if those dreams were memories.

She wondered if he would remember that night in the resister's camp. Certainly he wouldn't remember it like she did, feeling his heart beat so fast beneath her fingers as he held her hand to his chest and spun her in circles until she was so dizzy he had to hold her up. He held her so close and he had been so warm that she trembled when he finally released her… so he had chivalrously given her his tattered frock coat to ease the chill.

Raw and Cain did little things like that for her as well, but it always meant more when he did it. She didn't know why, but it always had. Az would be so proud when their mother gave her some courtly chore to accomplish, like greeting an important visitor or overseeing an area of preparation for a small gathering of dignitaries. Nothing made DG more proud than when Ambrose would come find her down by the giant tree next to the smallest of the lakes surrounding the palace in the Northern Islands. He would climb the tree to the branch she had claimed as her own just to ask what she thought about an idea he had for some new invention.

Thinking back, he had done the same thing with Az. It was probably something he had cooked up with her mother, honing the natural abilities of the Princesses. She would often come across Ambrose quietly discussing politics and strategy with Azkadellia, asking her how she felt about certain issues and gently nudging her into proper conclusions about issues the territories faced.

Without warning, she realized that she was suddenly, inexplicably, and nauseatingly jealous of her sister and her own voice as a child echoed in her head…

My Ambrose