Author's Note: If you were hoping this chapter would answer all your questions, you were wrong :-) But now we're getting somewhere… (Okay, not really, but we needed to recruit some help.)

A piercing cry was stifled by a strong, deliberate hand and died before it could echo about the cavernous halls.

Cain eased the young woman to the floor like she was the most delicate item he'd ever touched. Concern was etched into every feature of his face as he studied the distressed princess. His friend was obviously in trouble.

Her eyes fluttered beneath closed lids, her chest was rising and falling like she was gasping for air. She had emerged from her room, moving slowly, in a gait that he easily recognized as not belonging to her. He had tried to rouse her attention, only to realize she was entirely unresponsive. When he gently shook her arm, he had seen the scream threaten and managed to cut it off before it needlessly roused the entire household, something he knew she would not desire.

"DG," he whispered, trying to gently wake her once more. Her lack of responsiveness was becoming more and more unsettling. From what he knew, she could be difficult to drag out of sleep, but this was something else. Crouching even closer to her not-so-placid slumbering form, he spoke her name directly into her ear in a voice so low it was practically a growl.

Her eyes shot open and she took a sharp inhalation of breath, startling Cain at the suddenness of her reaction.

"Cain?!" she inquired groggily, pushing herself up off the floor and holding her head. "Where am I? What happened?"

"You were walking in your sleep," Cain supplied, still looking worried. "When I tried to wake you, you threw a right fit."

"I don't remember that," DG said sheepishly, embarrassed despite how uneasy the revelation made her. "I was dreaming..."

Still apprehensive about divulging the dreams that put her sanity in question, DG was hesitant to share their nature even with her closest friend (save her sister).

"This is what's been troubling your mind lately, isn't it?" Cain hazarded as he helped her to sit up. DG chewed her lip in a manner he found all too endearing.

"You talk my ear off, DG, but you never tell me anything." He tried not to sound accusing, but she obviously was withholding something from him, from everyone. And from what he had witnessed, it was most definitely something she should share. Besides, he was beginning to develop a curious notion about this whole thing...

Reluctantly, she met his eyes. He looked so concerned, and was that hurt in their crystal depths? Her inability to be candid had offended him. Whether it was guilt or the fact that she could no longer to bear the stress of the bizarre dreams alone, DG decided to tell her tin man of her troubles. (Okay, maybe it was looking like he wouldn't let her get away without telling him the truth).

"I've been having these weird dreams," she confessed. "They always have the same feeling to them, devastatingly loneliness..."

She tried to look away, even the memory of the emotion overwhelming her, but his hand stayed her, caressing her face and wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb. When she met his eyes, they both looked away, breaking the tender contact, startled by what they had found in the other.

Cain stared off down the hall, obviously deep in thought, before he spoke softly.

"There's a girl."

DG's eyes snapped to the side of his face but could not read his feelings.

"The most beautiful child, like I've never seen before," Cain continued describing her dream...and apparently, his dream as well. "And she's sad. She asks for help, but I can never seem to find her, save her..."

He sighed pointedly, and DG's heart was both relieved that he understood and ached because he shared her pain. But if Cain was having the dreams, too, then she was right. There /was/ something more to them. Maybe together they could figure them out. She decided to share the little she had learned about the disturbing dreams' source.

"Her name is-"

"Ozma," he supplied before the name could pass her lips.

"You know who she is?" DG asked in surprise. Of course, why should she have been so surprised? Perhaps he was among the tersest individuals she had ever met, but he was by far one of the most observant and intelligent.

"In the real world, if she's even real, no," he divulged, shaking his head.

DG smiled, glad that she could shed some light (however insignificant) upon the dream that apparently had unsettled him almost as much as it had her.

"Ozma is a mythical Queen of Oz," DG revealed her one clue. "Glitch-damn-Ambrose helped me look up the little information in the archives on her. Unfortunately there wasn't much."

Cain smiled at her instinctual reversion to using their friend's old name. Even though they had known him as Ambrose far longer now than they had known him as 'Glitch', the head-case would always be 'Glitch' to the close-knit group of friends. Well, maybe they weren't all so close any more, despite the ordeal they had gone through. But Cain would never forget his debt to the girl who had freed him, gave him back his heart. Nor could he admit that there was something more that bound him to her.

And she was in trouble again, a strange sort of trouble that somehow reflected his own restless nights. There was definitely something bizarre happening. His dreams had always been disturbed, haunting, but it was a trade-off he willingly accepted for having a life outside the tin suit and being forced to relive the same nightmare over and over again. But since this bizarre one was affecting DG, it was worth investigating.

"I might know of someone who can shed more light on this Ozma," he offered. "I'll-"

"I want to talk to them myself," DG cut him off before he could exclude her from the proposed interview.

"Fine." He threw up his hands in defeat, knowing that she wouldn't back down. "But only if you get back to bed for some well-needed shut-eye."

"You got a deal, Cain," she said cheerfully, holding out her hand. Not being alone with her troublesome affliction had done wonders for her spirits. Her tin man could do anything. Silly dreams would be no match for him.

He grasped her petite hand in his and shook it before using it to help her to her feet.

"Good night," she called quietly over her shoulder as she made her way back to her chambers.

"G'night, princess," he answered back, cursing her choice in night-wear and how she filled it out far too ably. The sooner they figured out these dreams, the sooner their midnight conversations would come to an end. It would be a considerable relief on his strained self-control. Damn, he was a lascivious old fool, drooling over a girl practically half his age.

A/N: Oh no, our two protagonists have been thrown together! Whatever shall we do?!