dg_cain | Fic: Where's a Dream Book When You Need One? (3/3)

Title: Where's a Dream Book When You Need One? (3/3)
Author: Erin (

erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: DG and Cain (with Glitch, Raw and mentions of Azkadellia, Zero, Jeb and Adora)
Rating: G
Summary: The girl from Kansas and the Tin Man from the O.Z. compare notes...
Warning: post-series *follows Nightmare - Cain and Nightmare - DG
Disclaimer: The original characters belongs to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors.
Word Count: 3147

Even before he opened his eyes, Glitch stretched, causing the blanket covering him to fall to the floor again. Mid-stretch, one eye opened, and Glitch found himself nose-to-nose with Raw. Jerking back into the chair, he made a face as Raw raised a finger to his lips with one hand, and pointed over his shoulder with the other. Glitch leaned around the man-lion and saw Cain and DG, both asleep, and turned his head back to Raw.

“Have bad dreams,” Raw said, so quietly that Glitch almost didn’t hear. Raw offered a hand to Glitch and helped pull him up from the chair. Glitch took a moment, seeing Cain’s duster and hat on the table next to his chair, to pat the pockets of his tattered coat, making sure he had everything. A moment later, he remembered that he had nothing, therefore he must have everything. Pointing to the door, Glitch nodded, having decided that that was the proper door to go through, and followed Raw.

As the two of them exited into the hallway, Glitch took the opportunity to give one more glance in the direction of Cain and DG as he pulled the door shut.

DG was face-down on the sofa-like piece of furniture; one arm hanging over the side, knuckles skimming the tile floor. She yawned, eyes still shut, and grimaced. Every part of her body hurt – probably due to her current position, she considered, but didn’t shift. Stretching her fingers just enough to feel the floor, an eyebrow raised – which was difficult when one is trying to keep their eyes shut – as she felt a smooth cold.

She knew the floorboards of her bedroom were fairly worn, due to twenty years of pacing, but there shouldn’t be a smooth spot, and they most definitely shouldn’t be cold. Shifting slightly, DG breathed into the fabric of the chair and reached blindly for her pillow. With the dreams she’d been having the last few weeks, the pillows had a tendency to end up on the floor.

Not finding anything, she sighed and shivered slightly. ‘Great,’ she thought. ‘Nothing like a ride to work when it’s cold. Someone really needs to invent an enclosed bike.’ She made a mental note to wear an extra layer for her ride to work.

Work. Alarm clock. Didn’t go off. Why? Gonna be late. Gonna have to speed. Grumpo Gulch’ll be waiting. Another ticket. ‘You’re gonna have to face the judge... We’ll be lucky if they just impound your bike.’ The ticket. Didn’t pay the ticket. Jails have cold floors. They didn’t impound the bike... they impounded me!

DG cursed as she pushed up and looked around the room, still half-asleep. The sound of her voice was enough to wake Cain, who jumped up at the same time.

“What?” he asked, fingers moving straight to the bridge of his nose. He blinked twice and focused on the chair across from him. Glitch was gone, as was Raw. He turned to DG, who was still sitting on her knees. He could tell by the look on her face that her brain was trying to catch up and remind her where she was and what had happened.

She blinked once and turned to the former Tin Man. Frowning, she stated, “You look like hell.” Cain made a face as he replied,

“You’re no picture of grace yourself, Princess.” Brain registering what he’d just said, Cain pushed himself out of the chair and reached for his duster.

“Yeah,” she noted, working her way out of the blanket. “Well, you dream about being shoved into one of those iron suits by a wicked ol’ witch an-” Her eyes bulged and she clumsily made it to her feet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to...” DG’s chin dropped to her chest and she plopped back down to the seat. Cursing herself, DG looked up to her friend sideways.

Cain’s jaw clenched as he set the coat back down on the table – DG noted he must have removed it some time after she’d entered the room, as he was wearing it when she’d crashed the party. Focusing on the dying fire, Cain recalled his own nightmare.

“You dreamed the witch put you in a suit?” he asked, looking to her as he spoke the last word. DG was focusing on a spot a few inches in front of his boot and nodded once. She bit her lower lip, sighed, and turned her face to him, but didn’t make eye contact.

“And then she went back into my sister.” She shifted uncomfortably and frowned. Cain breathed heavily and looked to the window. He really didn’t want to have this discussion. Feelings and emotions were not his style, regardless of how many hugs he’d given the last few days. Or how many times he’d changed his mind.

No, she’d changed his mind. Cain suddenly realized that even his free-will was betraying him. His authority over himself wasn’t even in his control. Rolling his eyes, Cain moved back to the chair and grabbed hold of the back. He shifted the chair a few degrees and sat down on the edge. Resting his elbows on his knees, Cain was silent a moment before forcing,

“The witch is dead.” He didn’t believe him any more than DG did, which he could tell by the incredulous look on her face. Whether it was the inflection of his voice, or the look on his face, she couldn’t decide. Swallowing, DG leaned toward him and questioned,

“You sayin’ that for my benefit? Or yours?” Cain’s eyes locked with hers, hard as he’d tried to avoid it. A sympathetic smile grew on her face as she stood just enough to pull the bench closer to his chair.

“Did you... dream... about being put back in the suit?” She hadn’t considered that maybe the reason she hadn’t seen him sleep in days was because he was trying to avoid dreaming about his former prison. She straightened and began speaking quickly – normally a habit when she became nervous; and she hadn’t been this kind of nervous, ever, which made her even more nervous.

“Don’t get me wrong. You’ve got every reason to be dreaming about that thing. I just- I mean-” Mentally smacking herself, DG looked away and forced her mouth shut. Cain, however, hadn’t taken his eyes off her during the rambling. He’d almost smiled, but cleared his throat instead. Leaning back in the chair a moment, he sighed and moved to stand again.

DG reached up and grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry. Just, please.” She motioned for him to sit. Raising an eyebrow, DG continued, “For one... moment... of insanity, let’s pretend, for like, five minutes, that you aren’t an uber-cop who keeps everything bottled up inside. Honestly, Cain, it’s not healthy. It’s the ones you remember that freak you out for years.” DG let go and stood up. As she spoke, she began pacing in the very small space between the seats. “I mean, I still remember this one from when I was in the second grade: I was downtown and there were these eight ladies with long hair and they were wearing white dresses and they were just kinda... swaying and singing... and they were really creepy and they were standing on this concrete pad. Which didn’t make any sense because there’s been a building on the spot my whole life and it’s still there to this day, and-”

“Okay!” Cain said, grabbing her by the arms. She was making him dizzy, which bothered him immensely. She jumped as he spoke and let a nervous laugh slip. He let go and raised both hands in defeat. He motioned for her to sit and then did the same. He nodded to her, allowing her to speak first.

“No, no,” she said, shaking her head. “This is about you and your dream.” Cain gave her a menacing look and DG made a face. “Fine.” Shifting slightly, DG began breaking down her nightmare.

“Okay, Az and I were,” she cocked her head slightly, “well, we were at your house.” She shrugged, not having a reason for the location. “Az was on the porch and I was looking at her. And, um, she had this look on her face, and my sister’s a knockout compared to me-” Cain had to force himself not to respond to the contrary. As she’d said the words, he noticed a tightness in his chest. He actually didn’t think he could get any more uncomfortable.

“And this look, well, it did nothing for her. And, you know that feeling, like,” she raised a hand to her shoulder, “someone’s behind you?” Cain nodded once. “Well, had that feeling. So, I turn-” Cain tried not to smile as DG’s whole body shifted as she spoke. He’d never met someone who used their whole body to speak as much as this girl.

“And there’s Zero and the witch – you saw her in the cave – and, soon as I turn,” she snapped her fingers, “he’s behind me.” DG threw up her arms in a ‘can you believe it?’ fashion. Cain wasn’t sure if he was supposed to nod or not, so his reaction resembled a slight seizure. DG paused, making sure he wasn’t, in fact, having a fit, then continued.

“So, he shoves me toward the witch, and she has to get out the usual Disney-villain, threatening, double-oh-seven bad guy, ‘Hey, you suck’ speech-“Cain raised an eyebrow. He really needed an O.Z.-to-other side translator if he was ever going to understand what this girl was saying.

DG stood and moved to the center of the room, and Cain turned in the chair, to face her, as she continued. “So, she does her little villain-thing and I come back with, what I thought, was a pretty witty- Anyway,” she waved before continuing, “so she, ya know, does her thing and the suit appears and Zero pushes me toward it and-” Cain could see that DG’s hands were beginning to shake, and her voice was beginning to crack.

His hand moved to the arm of the chair – it was all he could do to stay in the chair and not jump up and pull her into a hug – as she continued. “And I knew there was no way I would get out of the suit and that once I was in there,” she swallowed again, “there’d be no one to protect Az and the witch was gonna-” DG clenched her fists and turned to face the fireplace. Taking a deep breath, she finished recounting the dream.

“And I stopped fighting.” The tears were right there, and DG didn’t fight them. “I gave up and I let him put me in that thing,” she said as she turned into the chair Glitch had been sleeping in. DG continued to look at the floor, the tears now falling freely. “And I watched her go back into Az-” She sniffed and looked up at Cain.

“Why didn’t I fight?” She let out a panicked laugh and looked at the window. “You were right. First sign of danger, and I-” Cain watched her eyes close and her body stiffen as she took a deep breath. She’d just forced her emotions away – a practice he’d mastered – and she’d probably learned it from him.

Opening her eyes, DG looked to Cain and, her voice calm and collected, asked: “Why didn’t I try harder? I mean, I know you’re no psychologist,” she motioned to him, ”and I’m pretty sure no one’s got a Dream Book lying around.” DG shifted her gaze to the ceiling and continued talking. “But, you’d think that it’s gotta mean something. I mean, if I can’t even cowboy up in my own dream, what hope is there for me in the real word? Seriously! Why did I just give up?” She turned back to Cain and her brow furrowed. Was he smiling at her? ‘Oh God,’ she thought. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just say all that out loud.’

As soon as her head dropped, Cain stopped smiling. Clearing his throat, Cain responded, “You’re right, Kid.” He saw her grimace slightly at the nickname. “I’m no psycho-whatever.” She half-smiled as he waved to her, continuing softly, “And, I’m not the one to ask about giving up-” As soon as he said it, Cain’s head shot up, eyes wide. He hadn’t intended to say that bit out loud.

DG turned her head and raised an eyebrow in question. Cain sighed, knowing there was no hope of avoiding this conversation. Not with her.

Sighing heavily, Cain dropped back into the chair and, leaning his elbow on the chair’s arm, planted his chin in his palm. DG moved back over to him and sat on the cold floor. Cain shifted, but DG waved to him.

“Talk, Tin Man.” Cain looked to the window again and closed his eyes for a moment.

“I was back at my home. Zero put me in another suit, facing the old one.” Sighing, he added, “Then he and Azkadellia walked away.” DG rocked back, arms wrapped around her knees.

“You just don’t let a person get a word in edgewise, do ya?” she asked with a frown. At the look on Cain’s face, she pushed herself up and moved to his side. “Sarcasm, Cain.” Shaking her head, DG picked up his duster and sat herself down on the side table, which looked sturdy enough to hold her weight.

Cain’s expression didn’t change as he watched DG lay the coat over her lap, but an eyebrow shot up as she leaned back and grabbed his hat.

“So, why didn’t they put you in the old suit?” she asked, placing the hat on her head and looking toward the fireplace. The hat was just big enough that is shifted slightly, and DG inadvertently raised her head, trying to shift the hat back again.

Cain stood and faced her. Removing the hat from her head, he simply stated, “It was already occupied.” DG made a face, her brain imagining two people shoved into one suit. She made the mistake of looking up at Cain and had to immediately look at anything else, as an image of the two of them pressed into the box filled her head.

“Um...” she trailed, thinking of what to say to change the subject, getting her mind off that image. “So, they wanted you to see the other suit? Prove a point?” Cain looked away again.

“Something like that.” DG looked at the coat and pulled at one of the buttons.

“Did your son at least put up a fight?” she asked with a hopeful nod, assuming that the boy was in the other suit. What else would cause Cain’s nightmare? Unless it was his wife. DG mentally kicked herself for not thinking of his poor, dead wife. Especially for what she’d just been thinking.

Cain looked at her for a moment and tossed his hat onto the chair. Crossing his arms, Cain sighed and responded, “A fight was ‘put up,’ but not by Jeb.” Two sets of blue eyes locked on each other for a moment, until DG blinked – that image of them in the suit had just shifted to them in this same room. She swallowed sharply and looked back to the coat.

“Oh.” It was all she could think of. He’d watched her be put in that suit. He had deemed himself her personal bodyguard and she’d been put in the suit. He’d failed his mission and that’s why he gave up. His honor... pride... duty.

She wanted to give him a hug. A simple, ‘Sorry you had a bad dream, but it was just a dream and everyone’s okay,’ hug. But he didn’t like hugs. Even when they were down to the wire and not expecting to see each other again, he’d held out as long as possible. She’d invaded his personal space so many times, not considering how it might make him feel. And, now, here she was, imagining him in rather compromising situations. She really was a selfish brat sometimes.

A laugh from Cain snapped her back to reality. Well, this reality. “What?” she asked, his smile infecting hers. Cain shook his head slightly.

“Here we are, dreaming of iron suits... and Glitch is the headcase?” he added, raising an eyebrow. DG tried to straighten her face and finally had to look away. “Don’t tell him I said that,” he demanded, also finding it hard to stop smiling.

“Scout’s honor,” DG replied, holding up two fingers. Cain tilted his head slightly at the second reference to scouts.

“What exactly is a ‘Boy Scout Syndrome’?” he asked, frowning. DG reared back with an odd look on her face. ‘Boy Scout Syndrome,’ she mouthed, glancing at the door. She gave him a full-body shrug and sighed. A moment later, Cain unfolded his arms and nodded to the door.

“We should, probably...” DG made a face and, still holding the coat, hopped off the table. She returned the coat to its’ original place and turned to Cain. Clapping her hands together, she tilted her head to either side and nodded.

“Let’s kick this pig.” Cain opened his mouth to respond, but ended up saying nothing. He turned as she walked to the door and shook his head. He needed that translation guide. And soon.

DG was almost two doors away when Cain emerged from the temporary quarters. “Hey,” he called after her, causing her to turn. She noticed the duster and hat in his hands and raised an eyebrow. Cain stopped next to her – they were almost shoulder to shoulder – and looked down the hall for a moment.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone the Boogeyman’s after ya,” she said with a wave and turned away. Cain caught her elbow and pulled her back, just a bit closer than he’d intended. Her breath caught as he blinked and softly said,

“Next time you decide to go for a midnight stroll,” he paused and moved ever-so-slightly away from her. “Tell me.” She blinked, and, when she didn’t respond, he raised an eyebrow in question. DG gave him something between a nod and a headshake, but not quite as jerky as his earlier non-seizure. He nodded again, looked at her for a moment, the waved her along.

“I’ll wait.” DG nodded and continued down the hall. As she passed the fourth door, she stopped and turned back, arms raised in defeat. Cain nodded to the door behind her and she shot him a double thumbs up.

Leaning against the door, using her whole body to push it shut, DG shifted as the second image of Cain and herself overtook her again. Flinching, DG shook her head and moved to the end of the bed, where her boots sat.

There was no way she’d fall asleep tonight.