All Wound Up

Allie stepped lightly into Felix's room. Felix was laid out on the bed, as if sleeping, but Allie knew that Felix never slept. He was dead, in fact. Allie frowned at his brother's body.  But Felix's face was perfectly peaceful.
Allie sat on the bed next to his brother and stretched out his hand. Allie was only thirteen years old, and small for his age. His hands were very tiny, and fit easily into the gaping hole in Felix's chest. He found a metal knob or key in there and turned it. There was a click and a whir of gears and cogs beyond, in the space where Felix's heart should have been, and all along his metallic left shoulder and arm. The fingers on the end of that arm flexed suddenly, with a whirring noise, and then Felix's eyes opened. He blinked at Allie for a long moment, seeming not to recognize him. Then all of the sudden a light, real and human burst into Felix's sharp golden eyes. He sat up.
"How are you?" Allie asked, concernedly.
Felix ruffled his little brother's dark hair with his human hand. "Fine, Allie. Fine."
"Does it hurt?"
Felix raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? Of course it doesn't. It's like going to sleep."
"No, it's not." Allie said after a while. He stood up and waited. Goosebumps formed across Felix's legs when he put his feet on the floor, but he said nothing. He wandered to the washbasin in the corner of the room and Allie handed him a towel. Felix could not simply splash the water in his face, water would damage his left arm. Felix seemed older, simply because of his responsibilities, but he was only seventeen years old, and when Allie helped him clean up in the morning, it seemed obvious how young and vulnerable he was. When Felix was dressed in shabby brown Western breeches and a somewhat faded white shirt, he wandered to the kitchen across the hall and picked up a skillet from the nail on the wall. The kitchen was cramped and poorly lit, as in all houses in the Pit, that terrible, poor, and filthy area in West Clocktown where so many Westerners simply lost hope. Felix and Allie's house was small and low and smelled a bit greasy, but it was clean and dry, and they were very proud to have it.
Felix lit a fire in the grate and held the skillet over it, since they had no stove. Allie presented Felix with a basket from the nearby table, and in it were several rather small and pitiful brown eggs and some dry bread. Felix took two eggs out and cracked them in his metallic hand. The insides slid out and onto the skillet. He shifted the skillet to his metallic hand, as it got hotter to the touch. The eggs begin to pop and fizzle, and added their own greasy aroma to the air in the house. Soon the whites were browned and the yolks a little more solid. He pulled the skillet out of the fire and dropped an egg onto each of the plates Allie presented him with. He set the skillet on the table to cool. He and Allie sat down and Felix broke them some pieces of tough bread. They ate quietly, Allie kicking his legs once in a while and trying to dip his bread into the yolk which immediately split and ran all over his plate.
The Clock in the distance chimed out the hour, one, two three.  Felix looked up, as if he could see the Clock in the air beside him. Four, five, six. Allie suddenly became preoccupied with the table top. Seven, eight, nine. Felix raised an eyebrow and looked at his brother.
"Allie, you know I need to wake up at seven." He said slowly.
Allie dug his nails into the table and scraped back some of the finish. "Yeah, I know," he mumbled.
"I can't wake myself up. I wish I could, but I can't.  I have to depend on you."
"I know," Allie repeated quietly.
"Why is it so late?"
"Well, I..." Allie could not continue.
Felix reached across the table and grabbed his brother's right arm. He turned the forearm up and found several bruises around Allie's wrists. Some were green and old and some were fierce and purple. One mark was fresh, still red and swollen and painful looking. The skin was not broken, but it was very obvious that the marks were made by human teeth.
Felix traced his real fingers across the marks. "Allie," he said quietly, but forcefully. "I thought it was getting better."
"It was." Allie said, looking at anything else. "But...last night I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was so..." Allie's eyes filled with tears but he shook his head and did not let them fall.
Felix grasped his brother's arm tightly and slammed his mechanical hand on the table. "Damn it, Allie! You need to talk to me about this."
"I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Not if you were doing this until nine in the morning." He released Allie's arm. "You're my little brother," he said quietly. "I should be there for you."
"It's not your fault," Allie said.
"Whose fault is it?"
Allie shook his head. "You should go. You're already late."
Felix sighed. "I guess I can't make you go to school today."
Allie nodded.
Felix stood up and tied back his dark hair with a string from his pocket. Wisps still fell haphazardly about his face, but he shook them out of his eyes.
"I'll see you this afternoon then. Be careful."
Allie smiled and nodded.
Felix waved his mechanical hand, with a whir of clockwork, and left the house.
Allie gathered up the plates from the table and the now cool skillet and took them to the basin. He scrubbed them minutely in the cold water. He paused and splashed some water on his right forearm to ease the pain from the fresh bruises.

#

Felix paused just outside of the house and looked up at the window. He fought the urge to go back inside, and turned and continued on down the cramped lane to Carroll Street. He touched his clockwork arm and thought of Allie, and the deep marks on his arm.  The wind picked up, and stirred Felix's hair. It was a warm September day, the heat of summer beginning to give up its futile battle against the chill of autumn. Felix continued along Carroll Street, the main road in West Clocktown that plunged from the wealth of the Hospital District to the filth of the Pit seamlessly. Somewhere in the middle, Felix went into a small but important looking building. He ducked into a side room and put on a worn red coat. He stepped back out and went to the dull-faced clerk at the front desk.
"A bit late, Felix," she said.
"A bit. There was a situation with my little brother."
"Mmm," the clerk intoned, completely devoid of curiosity. "Here, S'fore the Hospitals. You did request to be given any deliveries to there."
"I did," Felix said, taking the parcel she slid across the desk, and without further conversation he departed, finding his decrepit delivery bicycle outside. Felix had taken the job because it was better than most he could get at his age, with his situation. Some seven years ago, Felix had awakened to discover he and Allie were alone in the world, and their great big house was pulled out from under their feet. He endured. He had to, if for nothing else, than for his brother.

#

Allie made the bed in Felix's mostly empty room and wandered across the hall to his own. His small bed was in complete disorder, the quilt was in fact, tossed across the room. He rearranged the quilt on the bed, and sat down, suddenly feeling extremely weary. He tried to shake the exhaustion off, and then looked up and noticed that the floor was strewn with scraps of paper. His hands shook, and he knelt and immediately began to pick them up by handfuls. Each scrap was covered front and back with his own spindly handwriting. He carried an armful of the scraps to the fire in the kitchen and tossed them in. The weariness settled back own on him as the scraps burned down, and his eyelids felt heavy. He could barely stand, and found his body sliding, unwillingly, to the floor. His eyes finally closed.

#

Felix leaned the bicycle against the golden glass science building, deep in the heart of the Hospital District. He gently lifted the wrapped parcel and carried it to the door. The man at the front door looked at him suspiciously, but then shook his head, recognizing him.
"Delivery for Mrs. Rams," Felix said.
The doorman nodded and turned back to his duties.
Felix went in the building and across the front lobby. He passed a large desk and came to the elevators. A bellboy was waiting there, and looked at Felix's shabby clothing and red delivery coat with distaste. He ignored the look and told him where he was going. He exited on the 18th floor and the rather plump secretary across the room looked up at him.
"Oh good morning, Felix." She said distractedly.
"Good morning, Elsa. Is Mrs. Rams in?"
"Yes but she's in an experiment at the moment. I can take the delivery for her, if you like."
"Could you please tell her that I am here? I should really like to see her in person, if you don't mind."
Elsa sighed heavily. "Very well."
She pressed a button on the metal box at her desk and said, "Please tell Mrs. Rams that Felix is here."
Within a few minutes Mrs. Rams appeared down the hall, and waved towards him. Mrs. Rams personal assistant was standing near her, looking rather intense, but Mrs. Rams dismissed her discreetly.
She opened the door to her office and ushered Felix in.
"So," Mrs. Rams replied wearily . "It's been a  while."  
Mrs. Rams was impeccably dressed in heavy-looking skirts and a tightly cinched corset, but her face looked severe and drained, and her tight bun of pale hair was a bit askew.
"I wish you would check in with me more regularly. It's been months since my last delivery, and there's no guarantee you'll see me, even then."
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Rams."
"Oh, no you are not." Her hands shook for a moment. She was clearly distracted.
Felix set the parcel on Mrs. Rams' desk and stood still. Mrs. Rams carefully pushed back his delivery coat and unbuttoned the faded shirt underneath. She ran her hand delicately along the clockwork on his left shoulder and across his chest.
"It appears to be holding up fairly well," she said, tapping at it at in a few places.
"It is," Felix replied. "It's not like I'm in hard labor."
"And yet," Mrs. Rams pulled his sleeve back from his mechanical arm. She stretched the metal joints on it and twisted it around at the wrist. "The joints are getting a bit stiff from all of that carrying boxes and whatnot. Is it feeling heavy?"
"A bit. My muscles in through here," he motioned to his upper chest. "Are starting to ache at night."
"Mmm," Mrs.  Rams murmured. "I thought that might happen. Yet it looks as if there hasn't been a major rejection of this blend. What are nights like?"
"I have no idea."
"Oh?"
"When I wind down at the end of the day. It's...it's not like sleep. There's no relief in it. And yet, when Allie wakes me in the morning, I feel nothing but the immediate desire to return. It's like an endless nothing. But I feel like it's not death. Because I think death would at least be something. But whatever it is, it's definitely not sleep."
Mrs. Rams nodded. "You're in a sort of stasis when you sleep, I expect. Not quite dead but not really alive."
Felix did not reply to this.
"How is Alphonse?"
Felix shook his head. "He won't go to school anymore."
"Is that so? He always struck me as an intelligent sort. He brought you here in the first place, you know. When you really were dead. Has he still never told you what happened?"
Felix shook his head. "Allie keeps to himself. I don't understand why, but he just won't talk to me." Felix buttoned his shirt, and looked down at Mrs. Rams.
"Do you need anything, then?" he asked in a businesslike way.
She shook her head. "No. Thank you for bringing my instruments. I wish I did not have to order special products simply to see you."
"You're a busy woman," Felix said.
Mrs. Rams touched his face tenderly. "You're such a child."
She turned and left the office, with the wrapped parcel still untouched on her desk.

#

Allie was asleep on the kitchen floor. He tossed and turned and grasped at the air. He began to grab at the floorboards, clawing at them furiously. A soft scream escaped his lips. And in the room beyond, there was a low growl.

#

Felix reported back to the depot and was given a delivery on MacDonald. From there, he was given a message to bring to the Hospitals, then another delivery to Kipling. A short while after 3PM, the Clock still chiming, Felix laid his bicycle down not far from the Clock tower. He could see the guardhouse at the base of it, and through it to the other side, into East Clocktown, and beyond, the trees of the Forest, tall, and wild and endless, yet invisible to those who lived within the Western walls which surrounded the West, and blocked out the Forest beyond.
Felix stretched out his mechanical hand, the whir of clockwork barely audible under the booming tower. He swiveled his wrist around and relaxed. He took a parcel out of the basket on his bicycle, a small allotment of dry bread and cheese. He felt a sudden dark heaviness pulling at the back of his mind, and an urge to lie down. He set the parcel down and moved his human hand to his chest, and, grasping the key with two fingers, turned it. His eyes brightened and he unwrapped his food and ate.
The sun fell lower, and Felix delivered five more parcels and two messages. He found himself on Carroll, not far from Allen,  within walking distance to the Mayor's Offices, and across the street from the Children's School. He was still on duty, but as he had no pressing assignments, he decided to cross the street. He went inside the school, into the lobby where students almost never went. The air was close and still and heavy, and smelled of children. He walked across the hall to the to the common room where teachers took their breaks and gathered their materials for classes. He entered the room, which was filled with teachers. One woman, middle-aged, with a proud face and the slightest glimmer of grey in her hair, turned and noticed him with surprise.
"You're not... Felix, are you?"
"I am." He looked her over for a moment. "Miss Havers?"
"Mrs. Ridge, now. But yes, child."
"You're looking well," he said bowing his head to her politely.
"Oh, you do not have to lie. How long has it been?"
"Five years since I was in your class."
"Is that so? It seems like just yesterday you were spilling ink with that strange arm. How is that?"
He waved his mechanical arm with a quiet whir.
"You seem to manage it much better now." Mrs. Ridge said, looking it over.
"I do."
"Five years, though, that's hard to believe. I suppose I am thinking of your brother. You favor each other very much."
"Yes, he was in your class last year, wasn't he? I admit I stopped by to see if you could tell me anything about him."
Mrs. Ridge's face fell. "I had been wondering if you knew he wasn't attending school. Such a bright boy, it was a terrible disappointment to me. He could write beautifully, you know. Very impressive for a boy his age."
Felix nodded. "I hate to pry, but do you have any idea of why he would have stopped attending?"
She shook her head. "No, he never seemed to have many friends, but he was happy enough. He did always come in looking rather exhausted though, like he'd been waging war all night long. There were a few times he fell asleep in class. It wasn't acceptable, of course, but I admit I barely had the heart to wake him."
Felix tapped his mechanical fingers together. "Yes, I've seen Allie sleep during the day many times. But I have my work, I can't keep an eye on what he does during the day."
Mrs. Ridge patted his clockwork arm gently. "You poor boys. Despite what you've been through I thought you could both make it."
"We will."
"Is there anything else I can help you with?"
"No, I was just in the neighborhood, I thought I'd check in and see if someone here might know something."
She shook her head. "No I'm afraid- well, hang on a minute. There is one thing, though I hardly see what it may have to do with this."
Felix looked expectant.
"Before Alphonse stopped attending, there was a rather large fire in one of the girl's classrooms. It burned a significant portion of the eastern wing."
"Really?" Felix raised an eyebrow.
"No one was hurt, thankfully, it was during the afternoon meal. But your brother was very upset about it, he kept asking about it, and I'd see him for days afterwards pacing around the burned sections of the east wing. A week or so later, he was not in class, and he hasn't been back. I think it affected him in some way."
Felix digested this information. "It was very nice to see you, Miss Hav- Mrs. Ridge." He tugged at his delivery coat. "I don't suppose you need anything delivered?"
"No thank you, dear." Mrs. Ridge said.
Felix nodded at her politely, and continued on to the depot.

#

The room was very hot and still. The fatty smell of grease lay heavy on Allie. He started awake and found he was drenched in sweat, his clothing sticking to him uncomfortably. He heard the Clock chime out three times, and he disconnectedly realized that he had been sleeping for several hours. He did not linger long over this, though. He heard a strange hiss that grew in ferocity to a growl, coming from somewhere down the hall. His heart was pounding wildly. He pawed at the floor, then crawled on hands and knees to the dining table.
He had set some blank, loose paper there, and a pen and inkwell. He pulled himself up to a chair and dipped the pen in ink. He did not take the time to try and let it write clean, he merely dripped ink across the table and the papers in large dark splotches. He scribbled hurriedly in his spindly writing across one of the papers, not looking at what he was writing, but letting the pen carry him across line after line, and when that side was full, he turned the still-wet paper over and proceeded on the next side. His face was burning terribly hot. He ran out of paper and stared at the full pages in despair. He flipped them sideways and wrote up the margins, as small and quickly as possible, squeezing words desperately into the corners, sentences and whole paragraphs began to overlap others. He continuously dipped the pen back into the ink, his eyes slightly glazed and barely seeing. He suddenly dropped the pen, his eyes wide. There was no more space, not matter how small he tried to write. All of the paper was covered completely.
He stared blankly, his face still burning, and his heart still slamming against his chest. He grasped at the table, but it provided no stability. It was as if the room was tilted and whirling like a manic dancer, and from the back recesses of the house, there continued the growls, now mixed with moans and unnerving shrieks. Allie shook his head and stared at the papers. There was not enough. If he tried to find some more paper, they would be upon him. Unthinking, he opened his mouth and buried it in his forearm, digging his teeth into the side of his wrist. He held on, as if for dear life, and tears fell out of his eyes from the pain. He only bit deeper. He could feel the skin protesting. More tears fell freely from his eyes. But already, the growling seemed to die down, and his heart slowed. He felt the skin suddenly give up and break beneath his teeth. He let himself think of nothing but the pain in his arm. And silence fell over the house, the growling ended all together. Warm blood pooled into Allie's mouth. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He bit with renewed force. But then suddenly he felt two arms, one distinctly metallic, wrap around him.
"It's all right." Felix said gently. "It's going to be all right."
Allie released his arm and realized he was shaking all over. Tears still fell out of his eyes, and not simply from pain. After a long moment, he came to himself, and Felix released him.
"What time is it?" Allie asked quietly.
"A bit after four."
He nodded. "I haven't done much today."
"Don't worry about that." Felix gave Allie a drink of cold water, which he sipped greedily, washing away the taste of blood. Felix filled a pot with fresh water, and put it over fire. Allie sat at the table, watching. Felix stood and put a hand out to Allie, who ashamedly offered up his arm for Felix to examine.
Felix frowned over it. "This is deep. We'll have to bandage it."
He found some clean strips of cloth for bandages and dipped a few in the pot over the fire. He gently cleaned the wound on Allie's wrist without comment, and tied some of the dry strips around it to staunch the bleeding.
"I'm sorry," Allie said quietly, when Felix had finished.
"What are you sorry for?"
"I'm a disappointment to you. I sleep all day, I've stopped getting an education, I barely help around the house."
Felix shook his head. "I'm not disappointed in you. Something is going on, and when you are ready to talk to me, I will listen."
Allie nodded.
Felix turned and began gathering up the scribbled papers strewn across the table. Allie reached for them, but Felix was already attempting to read them. The curiosity on his face gave way to undeniable horror, then disgust. He looked as if he wanted to vomit.
He looked back at Allie, who was rubbing his bandage.
"Allie," Felix said quietly. "What is this?"
Allie shook his head.
"Why would you write this?"
"Just burn them," Allie said, still preoccupied with his bandages. "I know they're bad."
"Allie they're-"
Allie looked up at him, his eyes were wide and wet and now, Felix realized, full of horror that mirrored his own, many times over. He did not argue, and with his clockwork arm, placed them in the heart of the fire.
As the flames curled around and consumed the paper, he shook himself and inspected the water, which was boiling merrily. He put a few thin vegetables he scrounged from the cabinets in it, and sat at the table. Allie had laid his head down on it, but his eyes were unblinking.
He reached across the table and grasped his brother's clockwork arm, careful not to upset the bandages on his own.
"How was your day?" he asked quietly.
"It was okay."
The Clock rang out five times.
The rings were still hanging in the air when Felix said, "It's the nights that are the hard part."
Allie gripped his brother's arm tightly. "They are."