This took way too long to update! Thanks to you who reviewed, it helped me write the new chapter (when I finally got around to it). If you like it, please let me know! As they say, if you read it, feed it!
It is not enough to be accepted when you are meant for greater things. Wyatt Cain was a guest of the state and everybody thought highly of him, but he didn't have a position, an assignment, or a purpose. It was bad enough enduring the pitying looks as he walked to and fro from DG's room.
Shortly after DG's accident, Cain locked himself away somewhere very deep inside. It was part guilt that he'd let it happen, part anguish that she hadn't come to. The only person who he shared blood with on this Gods forsaken planet was hundreds of miles away fighting the last remaining longcoats. He should be there too, Cain should be there, fighting with them, but he had failed the psychological evaluation. Nobody was about to put a gun back in his hands after he pulled a gun on an empty field and mistook his own shell casing for evidence. DG slipped, that was that.
In the few weeks after DG's accident, Cain became withdrawn, internal even. He ate when he knew nobody would be in the kitchens, bathed in DG's bathroom in the wee hours of the morning, and sat next to DG's bed, with few deviations.
Cain had become a chain smoker and it was driving Glitch crazy. Smelling like smoke was no way to win the heart of a lady, and Glitch made a mental note to tell him so. What if DG woke up to that reeking mess? For the Gods' sake, get a hobby, take up knitting. At least he didn't smoke in DG's room, but the balcony wasn't much better. In fact, she was probably getting just as much smoke second-hand as she would if he puffed right in her face, Glitch reasoned. The Tin Man had gotten a little flabby, come to think of it, and Glitch was pretty sure he'd smelled whiskey on Cain's breath. Wyatt Cain was really letting himself go, in Glitch's opinion, but there was no way he was going to outright confront him about it. The best way to deal with Cain was to plant an idea in his head so subtly that he thought it was his own.
"Cain… have you thought about chewing gum?" Glitch asked, leaning against DG's open doorway. Subtlety, they name is Glitch.
"Why?" Cain asked curtly. He sat in the chair beside DG's bed with his arms crossed.
"Your breath has been less than spectacular, my friend," Glitch said. He strolled to the middle of the room to where Cain's duster was draped over a chair. As he spoke, he picked little flecks of things off the jacket. "I'm just being honest with you because I thought you might care that talking to you is sometimes staggering. And I don't mean because of you're looks, I mean, you're a good looking man, Cain, and if my pendulum swung that way, I'd go for ya, but what I'm saying is: chew some gum. For my sake. For DG's sake. For the OZ's sake. For—"
"Did you come here to insult me?" The tin man sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes.
Glitch raised his eyebrows as if to say, 'who, me?'
"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Cain asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Oh sure, sure." Glitch backed slowly towards the door. "I have gum in my pocket, if you want it."
"Go, Glitch!"
"You're gonna get secretary butt if you sit in that chair all the damn time!" Glitch called from the doorway. Cain stood and Glitch shrieked. The head case sprinted down the hallway until he made it to the safety of his office.
Cain reached for his pack of smokes on DG's bedside table and perched a cigarette on his lips while he searched his duster for his lighter. It was gone. Glitch. Cain threw the cigarette across the room, then the whole pack.
"Are you shirtless?" Asked a voice.
Cain's heart leapt. He was shirtless, but not for anyone's benefit. The collar of his regular shirt had been rubbing him the wrong way.
"Cain?" The voice asked again.
Cain turned. The princess' eyes were open to little slits and her mouth up-turned ever so slightly.
"Are you a statue?" She asked, amusement evident in her voice.
The tin man grabbed his button-up shirt from where it lay next to his duster and turned his back to her, slipping it on. He didn't button it because his hands couldn't stop shaking. Was she really awake?
What was he supposed to say to her?
"You fell…" he said finally, softly.
"When?" DG asked.
"Few weeks ago-"
"What? Can you come here?"
Cain turned back to face her. He took a few steps forward, but only so far as the edge of the bed, as far as propriety demanded when he had guarded her before. "A few weeks ago," He said again, jamming his hands in his pockets to still his hands. "Do you remember?"
"No," She breathed, closing her eyes.
"Don't push yourself, you nearly bashed the whole backside of your skull open." Cain looked down at his bare toes.
"Explains the headache." She breathed in a ragged breath. "Mmm, ribs too?"
"Yes. And your leg."
"God." DG breathed in as deep as her rib would allow. She slowly pulled her arms out from underneath her quilt and popped her fingers. "Cramped."
"It was my fault, Princess. I should have been there." Cain said solemnly.
"You were there; you escorted me through the OZ."
"No, I should have been there," He breathed. "When you fell."
DG opened both eyes and looked up at him. She pointed to the chair beside her bed. Cain obeyed and sat beside her.
"The last thing I remember is sitting on the balcony. Fill me in." DG closed her eyes again.
Cain cleared his throat and relayed the events back to her. He left out his side of things, like the tightness in his chest when he saw her standing on the balcony, terror watching her body fall, the despair knowing that he shouldn't have moved her, and the complete depression waiting for her to wake up… or not. When he finished, DG held out her hand without a word. Cain grasped her hand.
"Why did you stay?" DG asked softly.
Cain thought about it, but he didn't have a concrete answer. He was there, and that's all he knew. The sound of DG's shallow breathing told him that she was asleep and he felt strangely relieved. But what now? What was his duty now?
He had to tell the Queen and Consort that their daughter was awake. He had to, except he couldn't bring himself to unclasp his hand from hers and wake her. Cain wasn't sure he remembered ever having touched her skin before. He knew he must have, especially considering that he picked her up after she fell, and he shook her hand when the first met, but he didn't remember how her skin felt against his for any prolonged amount of time. He had known her only a few short months by that time, and the last three weeks, she was unconscious.
Before the accident, he kept his distance from her. After all that time in the suit, tin men had changed greatly. Their uniforms were crisper, guns bigger, training more severe, and Cain wasn't up to snuff. He needed to pass the psychological test, endure a body endurance physical, and be completely retrained in weaponry before his tin could be reestablished, but he had failed the psych eval. Step 1 and he couldn't even complete that. Well, he couldn't before. But Cain had come to a strangely resolute peace watching over DG. Seeing the tenuous nature of things, knowing that at any moment life could end or change; that was sobering. He knew he had a lot of growing to do but he had to try. DG was awake now and he needed to be official tin or he wouldn't be able to protect her. It was Azkadellia's kindness alone that allowed him to watch over his charge, but that wouldn't be enough.
Gently, Cain pried his fingers from the Princess' and laid her hand next to her hip. He stood, buttoned his shirt, and slipped on his duster. He cast a glance at DG and made a silent promise in his head. Nothing like this would ever happen again and he was sure of that.
Azkadellia spent a few hours a day sitting outside DG's door just in case she woke up or Cain went off the deep end. The rest of the day was spent learning everything she could about the state of the OZ. Several longcoat cells were off the grid hadn't received word about the exorcism of the witch. Even if they had, they probably wouldn't have turned over in support of the good Queen with lavender eyes. They had to be wary of attacks from a few Resistance troupes that hadn't gotten word, but Jeb was doing his best to seek out the remaining soldiers and inform them of the need to protect the royal family.
The door to DG's room opened and Cain exited looking better than he had in weeks.
"Princess," Cain greeted Azkadellia. "Where is Glitch at this moment?"
"He's in his office, Mr. Cain." Az said.
"Great. Can you inform Eames that Princess DG needs a guard? I have something I have to do and it's going to take—well, it could take a few months."
"Sure, I'll have Ebb on it this afternoon. May I ask what you're going to do? You begged me to for this position, I'm just curious what could pull you away," Az said.
"I'm going to get my tin reinstated," the man said. "I'm going to be the best soldier this realm has ever seen." Then he did something that Azkadellia didn't know he was capable of: he smiled. Cain bowed to the elder princess and turned on his heel to head for Glitch's office. "Oh, Princess! DG woke up about an hour ago. She's sleeping now, but you might want to tell your parents," Cain said over his shoulder.
Azkadellia's eyes bugged and she bolted for DG's room.
Glitch cowered under his desk when he heard the three booming Wyatt Cain sized knocks on his office door.
"Glitch?" Cain asked.
"Nobody's here!" The head case called.
"I hear you, Glitch. I need to talk to you."
"Leave a message!"
Cain sighed and dug his switchblade out of his pocket, deftly popping the lock and swinging the door open. The head case was nowhere to be found; at least until Cain walked around the desk and nearly tripped over Glitch's outstretched feet. Cain knelt down and cocked an eyebrow.
"Glitch."
"Cain," Glitch laughed nervously. "Just… napping. Napping."
Glitch crawled out from underneath the desk and skirted past Cain to put a desk between them (just in case). Cain sat on the edge of the desk.
"I want to retake the psych evaluation," Cain said.
"You only took it a month ago," Glitch said, discreetly sweeping papers over Cain's file on his desk.
"I want to take it again. Today."
"I need to give the recruiting center at least two week's notice—"
"Two weeks, then."
"Two weeks it is, Cain. Does this have anything to do with DG?" Glitch asked.
"We'll see. If I can pass the test, I'm going to work harder than I have my entire life to get my badge reinstated," Cain said. "Thanks, Glitch."
"Sure," Glitch said, shrugging his shoulders.
Cain clapped Glitch on the arm and headed for the door. "By the way, DG woke up about an hour ago."
Glitch pushed past Cain, threw open the door, and skittered down the hallway.
Major Jebediah Cain was back from the western front and the newly instated head of physical training at Tin Man headquarters, so it came as a bit of a surprise to him when his father came bursting into his office demanding to be trained with entry-level boots. Wyatt Cain wasn't out of shape, in fact he was a beast, but he wasn't about to be out trained by a bunch of kids. He vowed to be in the best condition of his life, no matter what it took. Jeb took secret pleasure in introducing his old man to Sergeant Stone, the harshest trainer at the academy. Stone spent the first three days putting Wyatt Cain through the ringer: sprints, weights, tire throws, no sleep, and protein-pounding meals every two hours. Every night at dinner, a page reported Princess DG's status to him and he trained the hardest from dinner to breakfast, strengthened by her progress.
On day four, Wyatt Cain taped his hands and stepped into the ring with Stone for a boxing lesson. Day five, a new sparring partner named Big Jim knocked Cain out cold. Day six, Big Jim broke Cain's nose. Day seven, Cain bounced off Big Jim's fist and flipped over the ropes. Day eight, Big Jim caught an uppercut to the jaw. Day nine, Big Jim got punched in the stomach. Day ten, Cain knocked Big Jim to the mats in a one-two combo. Day eleven, Wyatt Cain knocked Big Jim Julie out. Nobody ever knocked Big Jim out until the elder Cain.
Wyatt Cain was becoming the talk of the academy. He slept in the locker room on a cot no more than four hours a night and drank his weight in water. On the thirteenth day, Cain began alternate weight and endurance training and he threw the dumbbells around like fluffy dice. He hadn't seen DG in two weeks.
On the fourteenth day, Wyatt Cain sat before the psychological team and endured a series of tests. He was hooked up to a lie detector, subjected to a stress test, interviewed for two hours, and asked to relay the events of the past that made him choose to come back to the academy. Cain left out emotional things, like finding out his wife was dead, being reunited with his son, being responsible for the lost princess, oh and being enslaved in the suit for nearly ten years. Instead, Cain talked about all of his years of service before the Witch really came to power, about the state of the OZ now and the need for the royal family's protection, about wanting to come up to date with the new Tin Men requirements. He passed.
This was a different kind of madness; an obsession that he could not deny. Yes, Cain was still disturbed, but he was doing something about it.
DG was able to sit up with assistance a week after she woke up. She was inundated with visitors of all kinds, flesh and fur alike, the only notable exception being the man who didn't leave her side for three straight weeks. When she could sit up unassisted the second week, Azkadellia took DG (in a comfortable wheel chair) to the viewing room that high-ranking Tin Men used to observe the new recruits in the gym, to show her just where her bodyguard was. Two men stood in the boxing ring wearing gloves and protective helmets. One of them was impossibly large with hands like sledgehammers, while the other was quick and slim, but built. DG watched as the smaller man dodged the giant mitts of the big man and knocked him out in a few seconds.
"Who is that?" DG asked Azkadellia, watching as several boots gathered around the ring to care for the unconscious man.
"The big guy is Big Jim Julie," Az said. "They make all the boots box him to teach them how to handle a no-win scenario."
"I don't believe in no-win scenarios," DG said.
The smaller man removed his gloves and knelt next to his sparring partner.
"Neither does Wyatt Cain," Az said softly, watching her sister's face as it lit up.
"Cain did that?"
"Apparently he is the toast of the academy. He has been training non-stop since the first day you woke up and he is retaking the psych evaluation in a few days," Az said.
Cain removed his opponent's helmet and helped four other men move the big lug to a stretcher. The other men wheeled poor Jim Julie to the hospital wing and left Cain alone in the gym.
"Why?" DG asked, watching Cain.
"He wants to be the best soldier the Tin Men have ever seen to make sure nothing like your accident ever happens again." Az said. "I think, if I'm honest, that he's doing it for you."
"Why?" The younger princess asked again.
Cain removed his helmet and sat in his corner of the boxing ring. He looked fierce, driven. Sexy—erm, athletic. Athletic is what DG thought. Right.
"Who knows why Cain does what he does, really," Az said. "He found you after you fell, he bound your leg, he brought you to your room, he begged me to reassign Hess so he could stay with you, and then he did. For three weeks. Glitch and I had to force him to leave your room or shower or even eat. I can insinuate a reason, but I'm not sure he'd ever admit it and I'm not sure you would accept it. I think he feels guilty and also like he has some kind of purpose now: to become the best Tin Man that ever was."
"He already is," DG breathed.
Cain stood, torso glistening with sweat from the match, and ducked under the ropes. He couldn't see the princesses watching him through the upstairs mirrors, but he could tell someone was, and that's what he needed. People to stand up and take note and invest in him. The endurance test would stretch him to the furthest extent of his abilities and he had to be stronger than the test. He had to have allies. He had to be the best he had ever been.
"I'm tired, Az. Do you mind?" DG asked. She wasn't really tired; she was afraid of being hypnotized by the pure passion of Cain as he threw himself into a weight combo. She was afraid of reading into this behavior because she still didn't know much about him other than what she found out on the journey through the OZ. Wyatt Cain was sure worked up and DG couldn't help but feel al little hot and bothered, for better and for worse.
A/N: I know, Star Trek reference... tee-hee! Let me know what you think!