Title: Headcase, Chapter 5, "Queen Part 2"
Author: digitalruki
Rating: PG
Characters: Glitch
Summary: Fate has left a puzzle for Glitch to piece together.
Author's Note & Disclaimer: Thanks for all the support! I don't own Tin Man. As always, any feedback on this fic would be most welcome.

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Lionel Weaver is staring into the face of a headcase. Not one like Glitch--this one's the real thing. This one doesn't bother meeting Lionel's gaze. It seems to be having trouble sitting up straight. It keeps watching the flickering light above Lionel's head. There's a ghostly smile on its lips, not expressing any emotion, just held there by muscles not being given any clear direction.

He's looking at this thing, sitting across from him in the grey-lit dungeon room in the dregs of Azkedehlia's castle, because he had to know. He had signed up for the prison watch, he had found out where they executed the procedure, he had found the cell of one of the newest cases. He had snuck down here and opened the door and reached out his hand for the man inside to grab on to. He remembers that his original plan was to break the man out. But when he got there he had discovered the man had already left a long time ago.

All that is left is the shell. There are tattoos on its arms and a scar on its face. Was this man a common thief? A murderer? Or was he someone who surely didn't deserve this cruel treatment? Someone like Glitch?

He waits. He watches. Perhaps, if he stays long enough, this man will also start to talk. To look at him. To remember things that have been pulled out of him forcefully--like Glitch.

Or maybe Glitch is different, after all.

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"The Queen," whispers Poppy, as if it's some sort of secret.

Glitch's eyes widen when she answers. A grin breaks out across his face, even though he's still confused. Like someone else has put the smile there.

Like someone put these clues out for him to find. Everywhere he goes he learns something new. Or, rather, something old, since he seems to have already known all this. But when he puts them all together, he's still confused.

"She's...alive," he mutters. "The Queen. She's alive. The Queen...alive?"

Harry leans under the counter and pulls out a brown glass bottle. He considers its contents skeptically. "No one really knows for sure. The last anyone heard of her was almost three annuals ago." Uncorking the bottle, he takes a swig.

Why, wonders Glitch, is it important that he know she's alive? Other than the part where he's pretty sure he and Her Highness used to hang out a lot, so knowing she's okay is surely a relief. He puts his hand over his chest. Yes, his heart is beating fast. His body is excited. Interesting.

But saying it out loud doesn't work. "The Queen...she's alive. That's not right," he mutters, scratching his matted hair. The place in his former brain that seems to be rapidly re-awakening around the fact that 'she's alive' (whoever she is) isn't the same as that of the realization that his Queen's eyes are the color of Poppy's purple dress.

Poppy shakes her head, and grabs Glitch's hand. "No, I believe it, too. The Queen isn't dead. This Azkadehlia...--"

"She did this to me." Glitch points to the zipper. "The Queen...I was her advisor." That sounds more like it. He remembers vaguely that he's had this conversation before. Remembering it and having again seem to make it easier for him to remember what he's saying. Short-term memory converting to long-term memory. Fascinating.

Poppy gasps. She understands. "Azkadehlia wanted your mind." Her hands are warm and soft. Glitch smells flowers. Is it Poppy, or just his memory associating her with something? No, this is too confusing. He has to lay it out linearly.

"Back up," he says, using his free hand to motion 'stop'. Poppy and Harry both take a few steps back, but Glitch immediately waves at them apologetically. "No, I didn't mean..." Stop. Breath. Think. "Let me back up, I mean.

"Not the Queen...but someone else. Someone is alive, and it's important that I...find her." He runs his finger long to rim of his glass. "But I've been searching for so long. I don't even know who she is!"

To his surprise, Poppy and Harry both chuckle. They exchange the queerest of looks. Glitch finds that he takes offense to whatever the looks means, and furrows his brow. "What?" he exclaims indignantly.

Poppy gives him a wink, and heck if that doesn't make him go kind of weak at the knees. "Glitch, honey, if there's one thing I know, it's the human heart." She tilts her head towards Harry, who is still stealing gulps of whatever is in that brown bottle. "And what you got to understand about your heart--" she says, snatching the bottle from under his lips and reaching for Glitch's glass, "--is that it won't find anybody else until you find it." Glitch surrenders the glass, and she shoves it into Harry's empty hand. Glitch touches his chest again. Still beating fast.

He rubs absently at the spot. "My heart isn't what's missing," he reasons.

Poppy leans on the empty counter, smiling. "But you and your heart don't see eye-to eye, right? Because it remembers things you don't."

Glitch is kind of skeptical why she knows that. Then again, she is a woman. They seem to know better than him, on a regular basis.

"Yes," he replies, nodding.

"And in your case, you probably won't ever see eye-to-eye with it."

Glitch bows his head, rubbing harder. "Yes."

Soft hands cup his face once more. "That's okay, doll. All is not lost. You just have to learn to trust your heart."

It's good advice. Glitch nods again, standing up straight. Poppy takes her hands away. He gets the feeling that he'll forget what she said within a few minutes, except for the part where her warm hands cupped his chin, pulling it up from despair. It's interesting how he remembers words better when he remembers how he had felt when they were said. Trust his heart, she said.

He wonders if he can.

"Stay with us," Poppy exclaims, slamming her hands onto the counter. Glitch, whose hands were resting there, jumps back. Harry's already showing enthusiasm.

"What a wonderful idea, darlin," he says, putting his arm back around her shoulder. She beams at him. Glitch looks from one kind person to the other, and back, and his smile floats to the surface, too.

"That's...you're really too kind," he says. "I really shouldn't intrude, though..."

"Nonsense, a good night's rest will set you right. Now, follow me upstairs." She twirls around the bar counter, grabbing his arm and practically dancing him up the stairs. His heart twirls with her. The smell of flowers, again. There must have been flowers everywhere when he first learned to dance.

Trust is not a concept he's familiar with. He's pretty sure he wasn't even that familiar with it before the whole...incident. But lately he's been coming into contact with it more and more. Like here, these kind people who trust so easily. And how his body moves without him telling it to...He's gotten used to the strange sensation. Blood pumps through his body, and he's come to understand that even if he lays down and closes his eyes, it will keep pumping, and he'll keep breathing, even if he doesn't see any reason to.

Because his heart's reason is her. And someday he'll find her. It doesn't have to be today or tomorrow or anytime soon, but just having faith that she's out there fills him with a new kind of happiness.

The following morning, he is dragged out of bed by Poppy. Downstairs he finds before him a modest breakfast. He eats, and it's the most delicious thing he's ever tasted.

Bowing, he says, "Thank you," to Poppy, and Harry. They insist he stay, but he knows he has to go. His journey isn't over. There's still too much east out there for him to follow.

And he'll walk that path as long as it takes, even if tomorrow he doesn't remember why. Because even if his mind won't remember, his heart is set. He'll let it guide him anywhere.

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A/N: Please read "Bright As A Beacon", the sequel to "Headcase". Thanks for reading!