Chapter Text
It wasn’t unusual for Rodger to ask Glisten to accompany him on his little investigations. Glisten liked to consider himself the Watson to Rodger’s Sherlock. He was one of the few toons who more than just tolerated Rodger’s antics. The others might find Rodger’s curiosity and his occasional pushiness for the sake of answers rather annoying, but Glisten really couldn’t think of much better than seeing his close friend’s face light up with the passion for seeking out the truth. It was something he’d long admired in the magnifying glass. His sheer dedication and unwavering spirit to his work, even when it was looked down upon by others, was something to look up to. Glisten himself could never have the same confidence that Rodger had in just being himself, despite everything. Now Glisten wasn’t one to second-guess everything like Boxten, but there was certainly a lot he kept to himself under his appearances. The thought of truly showing every facet of himself so openly like Rodger did was a thought that plagued both his nightmares and his daydreams. How liberating it must be, and yet also how terrifying the prospect of Glisten doing it was.
Naturally, when Rodger had asked Glisten to accompany him today, Glisten obliged. He may not be a detective much himself, but for all Rodger had to listen to his whining, he ought to reciprocate the attention. Besides, it gave him something to do during an otherwise slow day. Rodger had recently discovered an old office room that had previously been locked, until Gigi had found a key that turned out to go with the door. Rodger could barely seem to contain his excitement at the potential of this locked room as he talked the whole way there, theorizing on what it could’ve been used for or what could possibly be in there. His enthusiasm was certainly infectious, and Glisten found himself smiling softly as he listened to Rodger ramble.
“Aha! We’re here!” Rodger announced. Glisten moved forward to hold open the door for him.
“Oh!” Rodger’s eye widened a bit, “Why thank you, Glisten.”
“Of course!” The mirror waved a hand to brush it off as no big deal, “So, where do you want to start first?” He asked as the two of them entered. The room didn’t look like the usual artist studios. Dark wooden furniture decorated the office. A comfy looking black office chair was cast to its side next to a wooden desk. Old ichor stained the side of the desk, splashing across the three drawers on the side. A dusty computer long powered off sat on top, next to a small stack of papers, and a few more pages scattered the desk and even the ground around it. Rodger immediately went over to them. Glisten however, took his time looking around the room. There was a wooden cabinet askew against the opposing wall, which had a few papers atop it as well. He was just tall enough to pick up the papers, shuffling them into a stack as he looked over them.
He was surprised to see handwritten notes signed by Delilah Keen herself. He didn’t have to be a detective to know that something like this was a strike of gold that Rodger had been looking for for a long time.
“Rodger!” He called, waiting a moment before turning around when Rodger didn’t answer. The detective was going through his own held paper with such intense concentration it could be assumed he simply didn’t hear Glisten at all. And Glisten would quickly be glad for this, as he shrugged and decided to go through the papers he was holding for lack of anything else to do.
He quickly realized that these notes were rather similar to Rodger’s research logs. Journalistic, in nature, but with a focus on the findings of an experiment. The experiment in question being the toons themselves. Glisten quickly went from only lightly scanning the pages to focused reading as soon as he realized this fact. He caught mention of the name Dyle - the mysterious pocketwatch toon who ran the trains. A nice enough Toon, even if he insisted on being strictly professional with everyone. Also a rather fashionable one, Glisten had never quite had such an appreciation for anyone else’s appearances rather than– Focus, Glisten, focus. He shook his head slightly and turned his attention back to the paper.
“I experienced a situation similar to one I observed in Dyle several weeks back, this time with Dandy. Dandy started exhibiting worrying signs paired with a high amount of aggravation. Like when I observed the same in Dyle, as Dandy became more frustrated, a glint of red appeared in his pupils, and I swear I saw his fingers start to sharpen into claws. Unlike Dyle, I didn’t note any odd noises, like the increase in volume of Dyle’s ticking, however I was able to quickly calm him down by offering a distraction in watching an episode of the show. I must figure out why this is happening, and how to stop it. I can’t have the toons mutating like this under high stress.”
Glisten frowned skeptically, then shuffled the next paper to the top of his stack. He almost physically jumped seeing his own name on the next one.
“After examining my equipment, I’ve come to the realization that the burner for this batch wasn’t set to the full necessary heat to remove the mutative properties of the unrefined ichor. It’s too late for me to go back and fix this. Glisten appears to have formed normally, especially compared to the first toons, and the rest of the refining process was done correctly, however I will need to further observe him in order to make sure he doesn’t exhibit any of the signs Dandy and Dyle did, before Arthur finds out.”
His heart was suddenly beating loud enough to drown out the noise of the fluorescent lights above him. Signs of… mutating? In what way? Surely it couldn’t be true. He had certainly never noticed anything like claws before.
But now, he glanced down at his hands and only saw the somewhat grown out nails he hadn’t yet gotten around to trimming in his usual routine. Normally he could brush off their current state with the thought that he would fix them before they got outright unpleasant, but now all he could see was how long they’d become. And worse, how jagged those tips might be if he didn’t file them down immediately.
He couldn’t let anyone else see how ugly they were. And he absolutely could not allow anyone else to read these papers.
He glanced back towards Rodger as if expecting to see him looking down at him disapprovingly, but Rodger was still absorbed in his own reading. Glisten swallowed anxiously and stared at the papers in his hands for a moment before carefully, intricately, to avoid making any noise, slid them in between his sweater and vest. It seemed every slight crinkle of the page was as loud as dropping a glass jar in a quiet room. Rodger would move, Glisten would freeze, and the horrid cycle continued until the papers were finally concealed. He managed the deed without alerting Rodger in the slightest. Though his crime was committed, his heart didn’t calm at all until the two of them finally left the room. Had Rodger really not seen him? He knew how attentive the detective was, and how unhappy he’d be if he knew Glisten was hiding evidence… He was stuck in that claustrophobic room for hours, watching Rodger ferret around closer and closer to where Glisten had found the reports. What if there were others? What if he already knew and hiding it was futile? Rodger had already seen somewhat past the veil of perfection Glisten tried to keep up, would he know that something was wrong with him?
“Well, I believe that’s all I’ll be able to get for this trip. A very useful trip it was though! I have quite a lot of new material to go through back in my room.” Rodger announced, looking back at Glisten. Glisten had never felt Rodger’s eye pierce him so strongly before.
“You didn’t happen to see anything else, did you?” Rodger asked.
“Nope, just what you already found before I could point it out!” Glisten answered as he leaned against the wall to stop his trembling ankles from giving him away. He tried hard not to glance down to make sure the papers weren’t poking out from their hiding place. Surely though, it would be just his luck for Rodger to make some comment about them…
“Ah. Well, I appreciate your company regardless.” Rodger said warmly, as he walked to the door. He was about to pause in the doorframe, make some knowing remark, and turn to Glisten accusingly- “Would you like to join me in organizing these files, or did you have other matters to attend to today?”
“Oh- Ah, actually I was thinking I was going to head down to the cafeteria after this! I heard Cosmo might be making milkshakes today.” Glisten said, pushing himself off the wall and heading out of the dreadful office with Rodger.
“Well then, I hope you enjoy that.” Rodger nodded, and turned to head to the elevator to his room.
“Thanks! You too!” Glisten said with a wave, and started walking probably a little too fast towards the opposite elevator.
You too. You too. Not, you have fun too, or whatever, no, he had to choose ‘you too’ as if Rodger were also going down to the cafeteria. Stupid, stupid, stupid-!
He mentally berated himself all the way to his room, taking a deeply frustrated sigh as soon as he closed the door. He flopped back onto his bed, staring up at the pink canopy before remembering the pages tucked in his vest. He pulled them out and set them down on the bed next to him, watching them slowly unfold with a growing, returning feeling of dread. Somewhere, distantly muffled by the walls (yet not completely, which was either a testament to either the sheer volume at which the sound was made, or the thinness of the walls), he could hear Shrimpo beating up his punching bag so hard it seemed he may well break the chain or knock over the stand again. Ugh. Why did he have to get a floor with these toons… At the least, he couldn’t hear the screamed profanities this time.
He sat up, noticing the crumpled pieces of paper littering his room again. He really ought to stop just chucking them wherever. It was perhaps one of the more contributing reasons he didn’t invite anyone over anymore. The thought that anyone might see his imperfections laid so bare…
He remembered the last time he’d had someone over. Not by choice, Rodger had come to check on him some late night. How the detective had known Glisten was also up, he never did figure out, but Rodger had been quick to notice the papers and ask about them. Ultimately, they ended up sitting in awkward silence for a long while before Glisten worked up the nerve to ask about something.
“…Those.. twisted things,” Glisten had replied to Rodger’s gentle insistence he would be willing to listen, “What do you make of them?”
“The Twisteds?” Rodger had contemplated for a bit, “Well, there’s still quite a lot we don’t know about them…”
“Do you really think they’re like us?”
Rodger looked at Glisten with slight surprise, as if that wasn’t what he expected to be bothering Glisten, but it quickly softened into a more solemn expression, “…I won’t deny they do resemble us quite a lot. Some of them certainly display identifiable characteristics of their Toon counterparts. Pebble’s, for instance, retaining his protectiveness over his owner, or…“ he trailed off, giving Glisten an odd, but concerned, look, “…This wouldn’t have to do with the last venture down there, would it?”
“…I just think there are some large inconsistencies among some of them, and we shouldn’t be quick to assume what goes for Twisteds goes for the Toons they’re mimicking.” Glisten huffed, turning away again.
“…It’s reasonable to not like them. I’m not the biggest fan of my twisted either.” Glisten had of course noticed how Rodger was wearing a single glove at the time, over where Twisted Rodger had burned him with its eye. “But I cannot rightfully lie to anyone and say that all the current evidence we have doesn’t point to them being some form of mirror image of us toons.”
Glisten turned back to the papers sitting next to him on the bed. He wondered what it all meant. Would the other reports Rodger took have more info in them…? But how would he manage to get ahold of those papers now that Rodger had them in his office? It would bring too much attention to him if he just waltzed in and started looking through them. As much as Glisten helped with Rodger’s investigations, he never went through evidence unprompted. But he needed answers…
The memory of the conversation lingered; Glisten turned over what Rodger had said all that time ago... Glisten detested anything to do with his Twisted, but… if they really were so similar…
Well, he never thought he’d be glad his Twisted could talk.