Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

Unfortunately I do not own Tin Man or any of the characters from the mini series. Nor do I own the original by Frank L. Baum. Some of the characters here in, are of my own makings. I'm sure you'll be able to tell the difference.

General Info:

Rated T for later chapters

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I have much of the next chapter written and will be working diligently on completing the next installment. I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for reading.

Chapter 1

"People take pictures of the summer just in case someone thought they missed it, and to prove that it really existed." – Ray Davies

DG sat quietly on the porch looking down at markings she could have drawn with her eyes closed. The piece of paper in her lap folded easily, the well used creases the perfect guide. Worn around the edges, it was smudged in places with dirty finger prints and minor grease stains. However, anyone who saw the care with which the young lady folded the dilapidated paper would know those blemishes were made from the constant need to look at the original decorations. A prized possession; something she cherished and carried in a place of honor by her heart.

Silently she surveyed the farmland as the one and only sun sank down under the flat horizon, waiting patiently for the sounds of an approaching pickup. The brand new, bright red truck would come to take her off to a life she had long ago thought boring and out of place. Now it was the only life she cared to keep. Robbie would be behind the wheel, Del beside him and Fran waiting for her company in the small back seat.

It was like old times, when the four of them would sneak off to the movies or to a party out past the Texaco Station. The main difference was this time she didn't have to climb out her window and down the rain spout. Nor would she have to hike across the field out of earshot of her parents. This time, there was nothing they could do to stop her. Not only was she an adult, but she was also their Princess. Although she never played that card DG kept it close at hand, just in case.

During the quest for the emerald she barely thought about the three people she befriended in middle school, growing phenomenally close as their teenage years swept by. It had been too hectic, running for her life, toward her missing memories. Now, they knew nothing of her true identity, her muddled past that even she could scarcely remember. It strained their relationship, especially the one with Robbie.

Before she was thrown back into the world of her childhood they had been on the verge of taking the awkward step over the line between friendship and something more. One day in the OZ made that possibility a distant memory. Too much happened on her voyage to ever consider crossing the metaphorical line with him, or anyone else for that matter. He had trouble understanding, not that she could blame him since she was unable to relay anything of her time away. However, he was being a gentleman and giving her the space she asked of him. It almost made her mad at the extent of his gentlemanliness.

This would be their first night out together in a few months, and she was looking forward to rekindling the friendship they lost.

The wind swirled around the farm house tossing her long dark hair around her head. The tornado season was in full swing but it no longer made her nervous, as it had in the past, now that she knew their true potential. She watched the sky through her tumbling locks, mesmerized by the colors and the whiffs of clouds coming together to block out the stars. The crescent moon was beginning its path across the sky making her shudder in remembrance of the solar eclipse nearly plunging the OZ into permanent darkness.

Even after a year and a half it still felt odd being back in Kansas. A part of her swore one day the memories of her brief time in the OZ would vanish, that it would turn out to merely be a dream. Whether it was lucky or not, her memories did not fade. One key reason had to due with her parents, Hank and Emily. The nurture units never let her forget her origins and how important it was to return to the Outer Zone after her need for freedom and routine were satisfied. The fact she never wanted to return had not crossed their minds, or rather their subroutines.

It was a comfort to be back to normality. Even if she had wished to pick up and run for the hills before the twister that changed everything, she now felt content at number 39 for the first time in her life. The harsh reality of the OZ was a shock to her system on so many levels.

Not long after the eclipse life in the palace became torture for her wild and independent nature. The constant footfalls of the entourage the Queen forced upon her made it impossible to let down her guard, always needing to be on her best behavior. And for DG, proper behavior was not part of her vocabulary. She would have swallowed the need to revolt if it wasn't for the loss of her friends. A shudder ran up her spine at the thought of the people she had held in such high esteem.

Without thinking she reopened the paper in her lap with extreme care. Running her fingers lovingly over the permanent creases marring the parchment they across the faces of her Ozian friends, her family. Before she left her birthplace she swiped one of the wanted posters the witch distributed far and wide. To her the flyer always seemed ironic, all four of them pictured but in different corners of a square. The backgrounds, wardrobe and expressions were completely different, much like the present.

Sliding her fingers to the bottom right corner, DG traced the contours of the face of the fastest friend she ever made. There was no stopping the smile quirking over her lips when the memory of how appalled he had been at his appearance in the picture snuck into her mind. But this was not the same man.

All too soon the smile flipped to a frown.

Glitch was the first friendly face she met in the OZ and he was the first one she lost. The alchemists reattached his brain two days after the eclipse. He was too eager to become reacquainted with his former self to wait and the Queen agreed wholeheartedly to the operation. She also wanted Glitch back to his former glory. As soon as he regained consciousness it was obvious the man she met strung up in the midgets' cage was gone, replaced with a stuffy advisor wearing her friend's body. Ambrose would never be, could never be, her friend.

Everything about him changed. It felt like something straight out of a horror movie, something akin to Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Ambrose completely forgot, or just plain disregarded, the camaraderie they showed to each other during their journey. He was back to being the man in the photograph, the one stiff with purpose and rigid in formality. Throwing himself into his work, he started calling her "Princess" instead of the pet name to which she had grown accustomed. DG longed to hear him call her "Doll" again, a goofy grin gracing his face. But it would only ever be a hope. Glitch was gone, in every sense of the word.

Even his appearance changed. The torn and rumpled outfit was discarded for the clean, pressed uniform of the prestigious position of Queen's advisor. His hair no longer stuck up at awkward angles, clumping together where Glitch forgot to wash. It was combed, sleek and shiny, and not from the zipper in the center since that was removed during the surgery. Ambrose chose to part his hair on the side to cover most of the scar running from the back of his skull to the front. Only an inch of the pink scar peaked out from the hairline onto his forehead.

The drastic change to his personality and, as strange as it is to say, his hygiene left her edgy and out of her comfort zone. The only inkling DG had that Glitch was still around was the twinkle in Ambrose's eye whenever rhythm was mentioned.

When a tear dripped onto the paper she gently brushed it away with her fingertips only to find them running over the furry friend who they almost left to be eaten by the papay. The vivid image of his roaring form pushing up from the crouched position where he tumbled out of the digestive cocoon would never be forgotten. It was a desperate attempt to frighten his rescuers which only lead to him being cowed by the pistol pointed at his head. DG shook her head ruefully, wondering how she had ever been intimidated by the gentle beast.

Raw had been next to make a hasty retreat once he saw to it Glitch healed properly. The palace was not a place he wished to live and after Lylo's passing his thoughts turned to what was best for Kalm. That led him to decide to return to the land of the Viewers with the love and gratitude of the Royal Family. The Queen made him an ambassador to his people which meant he would at least visit occasionally, even if it was only for business purposes. But, in DG's opinion, it just wasn't going to be enough.

To an outside person he always seemed twitchy and cowardly but she knew, from experience, he would overcome all his nervousness if the lives of his friends were at stake. He knew how to comfort with a look or a well placed hand and it was something she cherished after Glitch's sudden disappearance.

So, one week after Glitch awoke from his brain replacement DG found herself bidding farewell to yet another friend. The strength it took not to cry like a baby when she hugged him goodbye was almost too much, and in the end she knew it had been pointless to try. Raw sensed her feelings, patting her back consolingly during their farewell exchange. But he still left.

Another tear slid down her cheek, off her chin to dampen the precious parchment. It wasn't the first time the wanted poster felt moisture, and more then likely it wouldn't be the last.

Her eyes swept to the right, the figure standing in the square next to her where he had stood for most of their uphill journey. The stoic face, short cropped hair and trademark clothing sent a chill up her spine. Even eight years in the Iron Maiden and he still looked the same, down to the buttons on the leather vest. The only thing different was the look in his eye. The first time she saw the picture it was obvious it had been taken before his incarceration. His eyes didn't hold the remorse and guilt she saw every day since she pried open the door of his metal tomb.

DG knew from the start Cain would never stick around; in some respects he was too much like her, autonomous. Even though she admired that quality in him, it still hurt the day he voiced his wish to take off. He was the one she missed the most, and it broke her heart that he left her behind.

Over the course of their trek she unwittingly fell in love with the man, unbeknownst to anyone else. It took her years to discover the change in her feelings for Robbie, but only a few days time to shoot those to hell as Cain stood up to take his place in her heart. Guilt took up permanent residence in her veins. She was pining away over a man who had just lost his wife, and the knowledge he thought her dead for eight years did nothing to squash the shame.

Just three weeks after the witch's plans were thwarted, the prophecy fulfilled, Cain prepared to set out, much to her chagrin. Two were already gone; this would only serve to make her loneliness absolute.

Under extreme duress DG showed a calm demeanor the day of his departure, while she shattered to pieces on the inside. The whole -- If you truly love somebody you should let them go – thing, was easier said than done. And in her opinion, whoever thought up that pearly nugget of advice had probably never had to put it to use. While she decided it was best to take the road less traveled, she was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be; Cain had never been hers, not at all, and not ever.

An overwhelming longing to live her life in the comfortable embrace of denial engulfed her being. Unfortunately she had already moved past that stage, having moved on to accepting her feelings. DG wanted Cain, she wanted Cain badly.

Although the desire to hold him close and never let go coursed through her entire being, she managed to stick out her hand much like she had on the hill behind the tower. If her arms curled around his neck they would have clung on for dear life. And to make matters worse, he didn't pull her into an embrace the way he had before the final battle.

They shook hands as if they barely knew each other, which in all likelihood was quite true. How well could you possibly get to know a person in just a few weeks time, especially when one person was locked up tighter than he had been during his lengthy imprisonment. His emotions were a complete mystery to everyone, and his heart was hardened after years of watching his family tortured while he could only stand on the sidelines, helpless to stop the images. It would have destroyed the heart of even the strongest man, and he was the strongest man she had ever known.

But she saw beyond the stony front and into his soul, his eyes were more expressive then any words he could ever have uttered. DG looked past the regret, the self blame, and saw the side he hid from the world. There was a sensitive and soft side he showed to no one lurking in the depths of his personality he worked hard keeping at suppressed.

Cain held her hand in his for longer then etiquette required, staring at her. The tears stung at her eyes but she pushed them back, refusing to cry, refusing to make him feel guilty for taking charge of his life better then she was able. When he told her he'd visit she didn't know who it was meant to comfort. He would come back, of that much she was sure, since he was not the lying type. But, DG had no doubt when he did visit they would be few and far between, making each one more uncomfortable as time passed.

It was hard to picture a reunion between them as anything but awkward. DG could see him walking through the corridors of the palace toward the chambers of the Queen, nodding curtly to her as he passed. Nary a handshake or touch of a hand to a shoulder between the two strangers the next time they laid eyes on each other. For that is exactly what they would become. The fate of becoming nothing more than strangers was all that was left for the two people who at one time held the life of the other in their hands. It was hard to fathom.

Once he released her hand, he turned quickly. In the next few moments she came to an awful realization. She ran, needing to catch up to his retreating figure. Grabbing him by the arm, she clung tightly to his limb, halting his stride. When he turned she could see the quirked eyebrow beneath his fedora. DG tried to let him leave, she truly did. But, in the end she knew if she didn't say something she would regret it the rest of her life.

"Please, Mr. Cain," she wheezed. The shortness of breath was caused by her nervousness, not from her sprint across the immaculate lawn. "Can we talk," she asked smoothly, looking around at the faces of her family and his son, "in private?"

"Princess, we've already said our goodbyes," Cain replied, the annoyance plain.

DG winced inwardly at his tone but kept her face as neutral as possible. The use of such formality only served to embolden her need to confess her feelings. "I know. It'll only take a few minutes." He looked at her skeptically. "It's important."

When he nodded she released his arm and led the way through the gardens to a patch of grass out of earshot from the rest of the people. DG nervously fidgeted with her hands and the bottom of her blouse trying to find the words that only a few moments earlier were clear in her mind.

"What's wrong, kid?" he asked, breaking the heavy silence engulfing the area.

The endearment that was such a part of their usual conversations shot the desire to show him otherwise through her veins. In an instant her shoulders straightened, her fingers loosened and her hands dropped down to her sides. Lifting her head DG turned to regard him with her blue eyes.

"I'm not a kid, Mr. Cain," she countered calmly before she could second guess her actions. "I haven't been for quite some time." DG was impressed with both the steady flow of words and the absence of any graceless inflections. She hoped her stance was reminiscent of her mother's lovely posture.

His mouth thinned out in a line, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. "Princess, Jeb's waiting for me. What do you need to talk about?"

Everything was telling her to stop this absurdity, especially the niggling voices in her head, the ones sounding eerily like both sets of parents, Glitch and Raw combined. But she couldn't listen, wouldn't listen, until she spoke her peace.

"I don't know exactly how to tell you this but to come right out and say it." Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest.

"Somewhere along the way," she swallowed thickly. DG thrust her chin up and out, taking long, deep breaths, willing her body to remain upright. "I fell in love with you." The flush that threatened to cover her cheeks was forced away and she let her eyes express the reality of her claim.

Cain pushed the brim of his fedora up with two fingers so his eyes were finally visible and she found herself wishing the hat had not been moved. While DG was certain he wouldn't return her feelings she thought he would at least try to let her down easy. Unfortunately, with what she found herself facing, she could tell that wasn't going to happen. His eyes were devoid of any emotion, his mouth pressed even thinner than before.

"No, you didn't," he ground out through clenched teeth, his jaw twitching uncontrollably at the back near his ears. It was an order of sorts, not a question or a confirmation, but an all out order. – No, you do not love me. There is no way you love me. Stop lying. Little girls such as you would not fall in love with a Tin Man twice her age. Yaddi Yaddi Yadda. – Like she had any say in the matter.

His stare was scorching her skin with its intensity. She was surprised when she plucked up enough courage to respond, "Yes, I did, Wyatt." DG said his first name on purpose. It felt nice rolling off her tongue. For a long time she wanted to use it and the moment seemed appropriate to solidify her confession.

Cain stiffened further, hands fisting at his sides. "Don't call me that," he growled, and she flinched. While he had on occasion been frustrated with her he had never used that tone of voice.

Her strength began to falter. "I'm not going to ask you to stay…" she began only to be cut off by Cain.

"Good," he stated dully.

Tears started pooling behind her eyes again and she fought with everything she had to keep them at bay. It would do her no good to show such weakness.

"Why're you acting like this?" it was quiet but loud enough for him to hear her question. She watched him turn his back on her. Desperation took over. "I don't expect you to tell me you love me back but I…" Her heart stuttered to a halt when he cut across her words once more.

"I won't be coming back."

"What?" she whispered. Her brain threatened to shut down. "You said you'd visit." DG found herself stating the obvious. Never before had she felt more like a child.

"This changes things," he replied over his shoulder. "This is goodbye, Your Highness." Cain tipped his hat to her, placing the brim back over his eyes. "Stay safe, DG," he added as he walked away from her, forever.

It was quite some time before DG entered the palace, staring off at the opening in the maze where he had disappeared with his son in tow.

She spent most of the night crying herself into restless sleep.

The memory of the encounter still managed to overpower her composure. Tears flowed steadily down her cheeks and she had to lift the flyer off her thighs to keep it from being flooded.

Now, here she was on the porch in the pitch black, longing for something she never had, the love of a man, honest and true to a fault. A man she would have died to save. But he threw her away like a used Kleenex. She did what was required, saved the Outer Zone and its people, offering him comfort when it was needed and guidance when his brain screamed for revenge. Now she was of no more use Wyatt Cain, only a hindrance; a burden. Something to be tossed away once their usefulness was gone.

DG wiped at her cheeks, the moisture leaking through the spaces between her fingers. She missed him, them, something awful. A year and a half did not make it any better, which didn't seem right. She could only guess that distance did in fact make the heart grow fonder. Damn philosophers! she thought as the roar of an engine and bright beams of light coming down the driveway broke through her reverie.

Carefully she folded the treasured wanted poster, slipping it through the opening in her shirt to nestle it next to her heart. DG patted the place it was stowed and dried her face as she slowly made her way out to her waiting friends.

AN: Thank you for your time... It'll just take you a few more moments to click that little button and submit a review :)