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Five Tin Man drabbles
Title: Limit, Escape, Yellow, Labyrinth and Teardrop
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: DG, Cain, Glitch and Cain's duster
Rating: G, except the first, which is not quite PG
Summary: Five stand-alone drabbles
Warning: pre-series, Part One and Two and post-series *Written for tinman100's Challenge 13.
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Limit
DG was never one for limits. As long as she could remember, she broke her limits.
She tested her parents by staying out past curfew.
Because it showed her they cared.
She tested Gulch by going over the speed limit.
Because fifty miles per hour was just too damn slow.
She tested Ambrose by constantly asking: “Why?”
Because it made Glitch remember.
She tested Azkadellia by refusing to listen to her sister feel sorry for herself.
Because it wasn’t helping her recovery.
She tested Cain by being a royal pain in the ass.
Because she was afraid he would leave.
Escape
He didn’t count the days anymore. He doesn’t remember when he stopped, but he knows he did.
He didn’t hear the words anymore. He’d stopped listening.
He didn’t see them anymore. He’d stopped looking.
He didn’t care anymore. He’d stopped caring.
That wasn’t true. He did care. He cared so much that he was certain that was the reason he was still alive.
He was so busy ignoring the sound, he almost missed the fact it was gone.
He heard voices. Someone was there.
The hammer echoed so loudly, he was certain his head would split.
He was getting out.
Yellow
Yellow was the color of every stoplight she hit when she was running late to work.
Yellow was the color of corn, which her mother always presented at dinner.
Yellow was her school colors. Every sporting event turned the people in town into bumblebees.
Yellow was the color of the wheat and the hay and pretty much every other crop that grew in Kansas.
Even the license plates were yellow.
She really hated yellow.
So when Glitch happened across the multi-armed con-artist - who was wearing yellow - DG was already expecting the worst.
And, as it happened, she had good reason.
Labyrinth
There’s a way out. There has to be a way out.
He knows that he can’t simply climb up and look for the way out. But he doesn’t know why he can’t.
Why can’t he?
He is physically capable of climbing up and his eyes function.
Instead, he continues along the path. Here a turn, there a turn...
Why can’t he get out?
What is it that he’s looking for again?
That’s right: the way out.
But why does he want to get out?
What’s wrong with where he is?
Where is he? Where should he be?
Who is he?
Teardrop
It is an inanimate object. It has no feeling; it can’t be offended. Its duty is simple: protect.
It has seen many things, been many places and has a story.
It’s kept him dry in the rain, warm in the cold and is a constant companion. Well, except for that unfortunate incident with the iron suit.
It has witnessed sunrises and sunsets; hellos and goodbyes; friends lost and friends gained.
It’s been dirtied, bloodied and faded. It’s been warm and cold, wet and dry.
It’s been hugged, kicked, torn and mended.
It’s succeeded and failed.
It’s celebrated and, now, mourned.
Author: Erin (erinm_4600)
Characters, Pairing: DG, Cain, Glitch and Cain's duster
Rating: G, except the first, which is not quite PG
Summary: Five stand-alone drabbles
Warning: pre-series, Part One and Two and post-series *Written for tinman100's Challenge 13.
Disclaimer: The original characters belong to L. Frank Baum and their respective actors. The current characters belong to Sci-Fi, the movie folks and their respective actors. The OCs are mine.
Limit
DG was never one for limits. As long as she could remember, she broke her limits.
She tested her parents by staying out past curfew.
Because it showed her they cared.
She tested Gulch by going over the speed limit.
Because fifty miles per hour was just too damn slow.
She tested Ambrose by constantly asking: “Why?”
Because it made Glitch remember.
She tested Azkadellia by refusing to listen to her sister feel sorry for herself.
Because it wasn’t helping her recovery.
She tested Cain by being a royal pain in the ass.
Because she was afraid he would leave.
Escape
He didn’t count the days anymore. He doesn’t remember when he stopped, but he knows he did.
He didn’t hear the words anymore. He’d stopped listening.
He didn’t see them anymore. He’d stopped looking.
He didn’t care anymore. He’d stopped caring.
That wasn’t true. He did care. He cared so much that he was certain that was the reason he was still alive.
He was so busy ignoring the sound, he almost missed the fact it was gone.
He heard voices. Someone was there.
The hammer echoed so loudly, he was certain his head would split.
He was getting out.
Yellow
Yellow was the color of every stoplight she hit when she was running late to work.
Yellow was the color of corn, which her mother always presented at dinner.
Yellow was her school colors. Every sporting event turned the people in town into bumblebees.
Yellow was the color of the wheat and the hay and pretty much every other crop that grew in Kansas.
Even the license plates were yellow.
She really hated yellow.
So when Glitch happened across the multi-armed con-artist - who was wearing yellow - DG was already expecting the worst.
And, as it happened, she had good reason.
Labyrinth
There’s a way out. There has to be a way out.
He knows that he can’t simply climb up and look for the way out. But he doesn’t know why he can’t.
Why can’t he?
He is physically capable of climbing up and his eyes function.
Instead, he continues along the path. Here a turn, there a turn...
Why can’t he get out?
What is it that he’s looking for again?
That’s right: the way out.
But why does he want to get out?
What’s wrong with where he is?
Where is he? Where should he be?
Who is he?
Teardrop
It is an inanimate object. It has no feeling; it can’t be offended. Its duty is simple: protect.
It has seen many things, been many places and has a story.
It’s kept him dry in the rain, warm in the cold and is a constant companion. Well, except for that unfortunate incident with the iron suit.
It has witnessed sunrises and sunsets; hellos and goodbyes; friends lost and friends gained.
It’s been dirtied, bloodied and faded. It’s been warm and cold, wet and dry.
It’s been hugged, kicked, torn and mended.
It’s succeeded and failed.
It’s celebrated and, now, mourned.