Broken Fairytales part 2
By Phantaz-Magoria

* * *

Present day...

Fortunately for Glitch, he and the little girl had only walked a few blocks before he remembered the map that he kept in his coat pocket for just such a memory emergency. They made their way through the city, past the park where Glitch had apologetically explained that he didn't have any money for a hotdog, but he'd find her something to eat when they got home, and into the industrial district. By the time they had gotten to the waterfront, Glitch was carrying the little girl piggy back style and chatting freely about every stray thought that popped into his head. She didn't seem to mind.

Glitch wasn't exaggerating when he said he lived in a warehouse. The one that they stopped at looked abandoned and not at all welcoming in the twilight. Glitch gave the girl a great big smile when he set her down. "This is it! Home, sweet home." His smile faded when he saw the dubious expression on her face. "Are you sure you don't want to stay somewhere else tonight? It's not too late, I can probably find a nice enough place for you…"

He wasn't actually sure that he could, but he didn't like seeing her so despondent. He sighed in relief when she shook her head and held his hand tighter. With that settled, he put his shoulder to the door and shoved, unsuccessfully. "Sometimes it sticks a bit." He shoved again, and again and finally the door gave way and he was able to lead her inside.

The air was cold and musty and smelled like engine oil and rusting metal. Glitch hit the light switch and the old fluorescent lights overhead flickered slowly to life. Some of them didn't come on at all, and some of them flash, flicker, flashed in their struggle to remain lit, but it was enough to see by. The main area of the warehouse was filled with old cars in various states of repair. There were industrial tools of every description and a huge workbench near one of the bay doors. Every tool was hung up on the wall with an outline in black marker displaying where it belonged. Every box and bin was clearly marked with what was inside. Every car had a binder sitting conspicuously on the hood. Nothing was out of place. The owner of this shop was clearly an obsessive compulsive organizer.

The little girl let go of Glitch's hand and walked to a car and picked up a binder. She turned and held it out to Glitch, questioning.

"That's a project journal. I, uh... I don't remember things, so I have to write them down. Otherwise I'd have to start all over from the beginning every time I forgot and then I wouldn't ever get any work done."

The girl looked around at all the cars in the warehouse. "I restore them. Rebuild them. It's the only way I can make money. Only way I'm comfortable with, anyhow. Why? Well… People just don't hire people like me to do normal jobs..."

She placed the binder back where it was and tilted her head.

"I've got a problem… kind of a brain malfunction, I guess you could say." He saw her expression change. "No, it's not serious. Well, serious enough…" Glitch sighed. "It's just complicated."

He began walking towards the back where it looked like some offices originally had been. There was a large suite on the ground floor and some rickety stairs leading up to a landing. Glitch led the way up the stairs. "Mind the steps, they're not the best, so be careful. And don't trust the guardrail, it's a little loose."

He opened the door at the top of the stairs. It may have been an office at one time, but now there was a ratty sofa with tears in it everywhere and stuffing spilling out, a large bookcase filled completely with books stuffed haphazardly anywhere they would fit. There was a lamp with a makeshift cloth shade. There was a coffee table that was missing a leg and was propped up with more books. There was a bright green plant growing out of the top of a broken television that had had the guts removed. A watering can sat close beside it.

Glitch watered the plant real quick and replaced the can exactly where it had been, carefully lining it up to the black marker outline. The little girl frowned and looked around. Even things in here, the movable ones anyway, had marker outlines where they sat. Even the coffee table with the pile of books for a leg had an outline on the floor.

"The bedroom is in here." He opened an old wooden door with opaque glass and black words declaring that it had once belonged to Mr. Pennyworth, Sr Manager. Inside was a wooden dresser with missing handles and a bed that was piled high with blankets.

"You can sleep in here. I'll sleep on the couch. Don't let appearances fool you, the couch is actually quite comfy. I think I might be getting the better end of the deal."

The girl looked around the room, running her fingers over the old scarred wood of the dresser before hopping daintily onto the bed, bouncing once or twice to try it out. She shook her head, disagreeing with him.

"You don't think so? Guess I can't pull a fast one on you, can I?"

The girl smiled and shook her head again.

"I've got a perfect shirt you can sleep in for tonight. It's soft and so so so nice! It's my favorite t-shirt of all time. I had to wash it , like, five hundred times to get it this soft."

He pried the top drawer of the dresser open and pulled out a white shirt. He tossed it to her and she caught it. He was right, it WAS soft! She held it to her face and rubbed it against her cheek. It felt nice and smelled clean.

"Let me show you where the bathroom is. It's downstairs, so you might want to go before you go to bed. I would hate trying to get down those stairs in the dark. Come on." He held out his hand and she took it, still clutching the too large t-shirt like a security blanket. He led her down stairs and into the office suite.

"Here's the bathroom, I know the sign says it's for boys but the toilet in the other one doesn't work, but I've got plenty of toilet paper in here so you don't have to worry about that. And here's the kitchen. It's not much, but it works. I don't really know what I have to eat in here. I haven't looked in a while. Are you hungry?"

Glitch hoped she wasn't. She nodded emphatically and Glitch sighed. "Well, let's have a look see, okay?"

He opened the fridge and immediately regretted it. Something in there was obviously not good anymore. He pulled out a half used brick of cheese that used to be cheddar but was now a fuzzy green color. "Gross… Hey, could you grab that trash can and bring it here for me?"

The girl nodded and trotted over, then dragged the can back. Glitch dropped the cheese inside. He opened the top off the milk carton and sniffed, his face twisting in a grimace. The girl gave him a look that suggested she thought he was silly for even trying. "Hey, now, you never know." The milk went away, some brown, slimy vegetables, a few Tupperware containers that he wasn't even going to attempt to open. An old pizza box.

Glitch found a jar of sliced pickles that he thought were still good, but did pickles ever go bad? The cupboards weren't much better. A tin of peanuts and an unopened package of Cheeto's who's shelf life expired the year prior were all he could find.

"I'll… uh… I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow. Think this will be okay for tonight?"

The little girl looked so sad as she rubbed her tummy. Glitch desperately tried to wrack his brain for a solution. Suddenly, inspiration struck. "Hey, I've got an idea. Come with me."

He walked briskly back into the warehouse where dozens and dozens of cars lay waiting. "I need you to help me. Go through the seats and ashtrays and things and find any coins that you can. Can you do that?"

The girl nodded quickly. "Good. You start at this car and I'll start at the other end."

It was a mostly good plan. Glitch had gotten himself sidetracked at some point, but between the two of them they had a respectable pile of change when all was said and done. Glitch carefully counted and sorted the coins so he would have an accurate idea of how much they were working with. He smiled at her unasked question. "We are having tacos for dinner. What? You've never heard of tacos? Blasphemy! Tacos are crunchy things with meat and cheese and lettuce… They're very tasty. And we can get a lot of tacos for what we have here. I'll do some shopping tomorrow, though, I promise."

The little girl's smile was all he needed.

* * *

Three years ago…

The squad car pulled up outside a smallish house in the suburbs. It had a fresh coat of robin's egg blue paint and white trim to match the picket fence that wrapped around the green grass yard. It was as pretty a picture as you could hope for.

Ambrose tried not to be jealous as he climbed out of the car. "You live here?"

"Yeah. It's something, ain't it? We just signed the lease last month. Don't even have all the boxes unpacked yet."

"Someday I'm going to live in a nice place like this."

A scream interrupted whatever reply Officer Cain might have had as he was assaulted by what at first glance appeared to be a tiny green monster. He lifted the monster up and twirled it around. The monster giggled and shrieked happily and Ambrose could see it was a little boy.

"Ambrose, I want you to meet Jeb. Jeb, this is Ambrose."

The little green monster held out a hand and Cain walked closer so Ambrose could shake it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ambrose."

Cain smiled when he saw that grin flash on Ambrose's face, even if it was gone again half a moment later.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Jeb."

"Wyatt Cain, are you bringing home strays again?" An attractive young woman with long blonde hair and a pleasant smile was walking down the brick path that lead from the front door. She kissed Officer Cain soundly on the lips and Ambrose felt a twinge of pain. They loved each other very much, that was obvious.

"Only the ones I run over with my car. Figuratively, not literally. Adora, meet Ambrose."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Cain."

Adora turned her attention to Ambrose and gasped. "My goodness, Wyatt! He's skin and bones!"

Ambrose flexed his jaw. "And organs and tendons, ligaments, capillaries, veins, arteries, cartilage. In fact, if you want to get technical, organic meat-bag might be more apt a description than 'skin and bones.'"

Adora turned back to Officer Cain, looking for some clue, some hint on how to react. He smiled. "Don't worry, darling. He's just a little quick on the draw. Hope you don't mind having company for dinner? I may have mentioned your amazing meatballs a time or two."

"Certainly! Come on in." She took Jeb and began walking back inside. Ambrose stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed, Wyatt taking up the rear.

"So tell me, Ambrose! How did my husband come to invite you home for dinner?"

"He kind of just ran into me at school…"

***


Present day…

Glitch woke with start, panic clutching at his chest. Where was he? Where was this place? Unfamiliar shadows reached out at him from the walls.

He sat bolt upright and began scrambling at the blankets weighing him down. He had to escape! He had to get out of here! He fell off the couch… couch… couch and coffee table. Glitch looked around again. Plant in the TV… he was in his living room. What was he doing in the living room? Why would he sleep on the couch when he had a perfectly good… Oh, that's right. The little girl. The little girl was in his bed and he was out here. No wonder he couldn't sleep.

Glitch ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. Changing routines wasn't a good thing. It was then that he noticed his hand was shaking. Shit! How long had it been since his last dose? Did he even remember to write it down?

He untangled himself from the blankets and walked to the bookcase, taking down an ornate wooden box from the top shelf. It was a pretty box. He set it on the coffee table, so he could sit on the sofa, and flipped up the iron latch and lifted the lid. Inside was a notebook, five or six brand new syringes still fresh in their packages, a long rubber hose and a few empty bottles with rubber stoppers.

Glitch's breath hitched. The bottles were empty. They couldn't be empty! He couldn't have lost track that badly! He flipped through the notebook to the last entry. He had made week long graphs with boxes designating the times he needed to take the drug and the correct dosages. Over the course of the last few years, he had managed to slowly wean himself down to the lowest possible dose and the longest time between them. Anything less would be dangerous, but he had to keep an extremely accurate account of things.

A sick feeling of horror washed through him as he carefully examined his chart and realized that he'd missed two doses. He looked at his hand again. It was trembling, but not shaking. He lifted his left hand. Not so much as a tremble in that one. He couldn't have missed two. Two would kill him. He barely even showing signs of missing one.

A tear rolled slowly down his cheek. He'd messed up. He'd made a mistake somewhere, somehow, and he couldn't remember what it was, much less how to fix it. He wrapped his arms around his chest, hugging himself tightly and rocking back and forth. If only he could remember!

A soft sound startled him and Glitch looked up to find himself being watched by the little girl wearing his too big t-shirt and thick woolen socks. She was concerned. He tried to give her a smile, but it felt shaky to him, maybe because he was struggling not to break down and weep. He held out his arm and she trotted over and sat on the couch next to him. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him. The physical contact seemed to help. "What are you doing up? You should be sleeping."

She looked up at him with her wide blue eyes and pointed at him.

"Me? I woke you up? Sorry, doll. I didn't mean to."

The girl looked down at his notebook with interest and pointed.

"That's a chart. It tells me when to take my medicine. But I missed two boxes here and I can't remember if I took my medicine or not."

The girl touched his cheek, questioning.

"No, that's not why I'm crying. I'm out of medicine and I don't have enough money to get any more."

The little girl shook her head and squirmed out from under his arm and trotted to where his coat hung up on a broken hat stand that was held upright with duct tape taped to the wall. She reached into the outside pocket and pulled out the brown paper package.

Glitch's eyes flew wide. "That's it! That's what I was looking for! How did you know?"

The girl shrugged and handed it over. Glitch tore the package open the rest of the way and carefully pulled out the small glass bottles. There were seven… There should have been more than seven… He lined them up in a row and counted them again. Why weren't there more than seven?

Glitch looked up at the insistent tugging at his sleeve. "Oh. Nothing's wrong. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. I just need to figure this out… just need to figure this out… just need to - "

Another tug at his sleeve. "Oh! Sorry. I was doing it again, wasn't I?"

The little girl nodded. Glitch gave her a hug. "I'm sorry I'm not a better knight in shining armor for you, princess. I'm more like Don Quixote, jousting at windmills. I'm going to do my very best for you, though. I promise. Say! I've got an idea! You can write your name down! You can write, right?"

The girl nodded. He handed her a pen and opened the notebook to a blank page. "Here, write your name down so I know what to call you. Hehe, not that I could remember it anyway… but if you write it down for me, I might."

She took the pen and wrote two letters, 'DG'. Glitch looked at them and giggled. "DG? That's not a name, those are initials! What do they stand for?"

DG shrugged.

"So you're going to make me guess, huh? Okay… Dick Grayson. No? Not Dick Grayson… umm, Dolly Gleevi? Haha, bad pun, that one… Distant Glasgow? Dainty Glockenspiel? Running out of G's now… Dog Gone It? Nope, that's got an 'I'… If it wasn't for the 'A', I could call you Adorable…"


Adora, meet Ambrose…

Thud.

Small hands were shaking him hard, the light had changed somehow. DG was frantically pushing at him and mewling in fright. It occurred to him suddenly that he wasn't breathing. He gasped a breath, gulping in air he hadn't even realized he'd been starved for. Another breath. And another. The mewling sound stopped.

Glitch sat up and ran a hand through his hair. He was on the floor. What was he doing on the floor? DG was holding the notebook for him to read. 'You fell over'

"I'm sorry. That happens sometimes, I think. You shouldn't worry about it too much, though. I haven't fallen over yet and not gotten right back up afterwards. But you should really be sleeping, Darling Girl. It's way past your bed time." Glitch struggled to his feet, then picked DG up and carried her to the bedroom. He placed her on the bed and tucked the blankets in around her. "There! All nice and snug!"

The look in her wide blue eyes stopped him for a moment. "It's alright. I'll be here when you wake up."

Glitch kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight, DG. Sweet dreams, princess." He turned off the light and shut the door behind him.


TBC


But only if I can get at least one teeny tiny little review… *sad face*