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Rodger slowly blinked as the light he'd clipped to the small table flickered brighter momentarily, the change in brightness bringing him out of the thoughts in his head with a grunt.
The detective was working a late night, which seemed to become more and more of a common occurrence for him these days, working through his research in the kitchen of the Toon Rooms. Rodger found it easier to work in here, sometimes, rather than his office - for one, he didn't want Toodles staying up just to watch him work from her connected bedroom, and for another, occasionally the change of atmosphere was needed, even if it was just from ‘quiet office on the second floor’ to ‘slightly less quiet kitchen on the first floor.’
Although, maybe the light flickering wasn't the only thing that brought him out of his head. It doesn't seem as quiet tonight.
Now that Rodger's focusing on background noise, he can hear dull thuds at irregular intervals from somewhere down the hall. Mentally he runs through who's been on and off this floor since he's been downstairs.
The twins went downstairs two hours ago to practice a script in the cleared projector room. Poppy and Looey are cleaning the main kitchen.
That leaves Brightney and Glisten.
Rodger stands up from his chair, checking the time on the clock - 2 in the morning, just about - and making sure to not scrape the chair against the floor as he moves from the table, he makes his way to the entrance of the kitchen to peep down the hallway towards the Toons’ bedrooms as another thud sounds.
As always, the TV in the living room glows with reruns of the old show, casting a faint blue glow from the far end of the hallway. Brightney's door has light spilling out from under it, so at first, the detective assumes that she's inside moving boxes of books and papers around—usually, she's quieter than that, though—until he sees a short flash from under Glisten's door.
…why would he be up so late?
He barely has time to think of this before he sees a few more flashes of that same bright light, followed by Rodger's mystery noise that broke him out of his concentration.
Ah.
Judging by how Brightney hasn't come out to check what the commotion is about, she's likely asleep and charging by now. He would have expected Glisten to be quieter at this late hour, though. Or better yet, asleep. Funny how Glisten is always the one telling him that, and now Rodger gets to think that about the mirror. Not aloud, of course.
Rodger pads across the hallway to Glisten's room, watching the intermittent flashes and listening to the noises, and quietly knocks on the door.
“Glisten?” he called softly, rapping on the door with the back of his hand, “Are you alright in there?”
…
No response. Just another flash preceding a thud. This time, now that Rodger is closer to the source, he can hear a shimmering sound accompanying it. Like Glisten's teleportation trick.
“Glisten. Are you alright with me opening the door? It's Rodger,” he said, more insistently this time. This was vaguely concerning, and the lack of response made it even more confusing to the detective.
“...I'm opening the door to check on you, Glisten,” Rodger warns one more time, putting his hand on the doorknob and twisting as he hears another thud.
The moment Rodger pushes open the door, he catches a glimpse of a large mirror disappearing, then revealing Glisten leaning against his vanity behind it, panting heavily and tapping his hand against a stopwatch idly. He's wearing the black turtleneck that he normally reserves for sleeping, so why he's still awake and busy in that attire is beyond Rodger's understanding at the moment.
“...Glisten?”
The mirror turns around, looking at– … no, more like looking through Rodger, seeing him but not simultaneously. His eyes aren't focused, and they keep sliding off to look at other things in the room, and his head tilts to one side or the other.
“Oh, HEYYY, Rodgeeeer!” Glisten slurs out after a few moments, waving his hand with a slightly loopy grin, “How long’ve you been standin’ there…?”
“I just walked through the door…” Rodger replies, baffled by Glisten's behaviour. “Are you feeling alright? You're not speaking quite clearly.”
“Oh, ‘m just dandy!” Glisten giggles, stumbling to the side against the edge of the vanity before breaking into a quiet fit of more laughter, covering his mouth.
“Hehe, dandy… feelin’ just Dandicus… Dandy's a silly name…”
“Mm, yes, very silly,” Rodger says, stepping forward to steady Glisten on his feet with a confused expression, “But you don't seem alright. Perhaps you should just sit down for a moment, collect your thoughts–”
“Noo, I'm practicing!” he whines, “It's JUST starting to seem decent, jus’– just a few more tries for the night.”
“What do you mean by ‘seeming dec–’”
The detective doesn't have enough time to finish his sentence before another mirror opens up behind the two of them, Glisten quickly darting through and unintentionally tugging Rodger through with him, the latter's hand having been on his wrist when he did. Rodger never liked when Glisten brought him along for the ride using his ability — there was always an intense feeling of vertigo and a momentary headache that came with it that left him feeling lightheaded afterward.
Although, he can't exactly complain, his is mild compared to Glisten's disorientation, given he's the one focusing on creating temporary mirrors from thin air to travel through.
They come through on the opposite side of the room, Rodger letting go of Glisten's wrist and steadying himself against the wall for a moment before turning to question the other, until he sees that Glisten has dropped the stopwatch on the floor, holding his head with a dazed giggle and swaying on his feet. He turns to Rodger and waves again.
“Heeeeeey, you… when did you get in here?” he asks again with a smile.
The detective blinks, confused. Did he honestly forget that Rodger was in his room that quickly, and that he’d just dragged him through the mirror? His eyes are even less focused than they were earlier, if that’s possible.
“I’ve been standing here, Glisten — and warn me before you do that, please,” he says, setting his hand on Glisten’s wrist again, “Just– sit down, you look as if you’re going to pass out any second, and I’d rather you not wake up in the morning in the middle of your carpet.”
Rodger is able to guide Glisten to sitting on the edge of his red bedspread with very little resistance — he’d half expected Glisten to protest again. Once he’s sat down, Rodger picks up the stopwatch from the floor and hands it back to the mirror with a questioning look.
“Now, what are you doing with the stopwatch and the teleportation, exactly?” Rodger queries, his eyebrow raised as he watches Glisten take it and stare at it as if it’s the first time he’s ever seen the object.
“Uhhhm…” Glisten hums, looking at the tiny clock. He doesn’t ever finish that thought, instead choosing to click the button and watch the tiny arms within it tick around with a small grin, his body still swaying ever so slightly. It’s concerning to Rodger, to see his friend act so aloof and disconnected.
“...do you know what time it is?” he asks, crossing his arms as he looks at the mirror’s half-lidded eyes — Rodger can see his own face partially reflected back at him through the glass of Glisten’s, a good indication of his detachment if he’s letting his face reflect instead of being opaque. He wants to get more of a feel of just how out of it Glisten is, though.
Glisten blinks, and then points at the stopwatch, seemingly as if to ask if that’s the time. Rodger sighs, shaking his head in response. He gently takes the stopwatch and stops it, setting it on the mirror’s nightstand.
“Can you follow my hand?”
The detective slowly waves his hand back and forth in front of the other person’s face. His eyes seem to track it briefly before he giggles, tilting his head back and forth, side to side, in time with the hand's movements. His legs swing in time with the movements as well.
“‘Course I can follow it… you’re funny, uh– guy. ‘M not stupid.”
…why did he call me simply ‘guy’?
“...of course you aren’t. Another ‘funny’ question — what’s my name?”
Glisten’s eyes slide off to the side, biting his lower lip a tiny bit in a moment of uncertainty that Rodger catches.
“Okay, it’s alright,” Rodger says quietly, sitting next to the mirror with his hands folded neatly in his lap, “Here’s an easier one for you: what’s your name?”
“Uhm– it’s– hrmm…”
Rodger’s gaze softens as he sees his friend genuinely seeming to not remember at the moment, his face switching between a frown of concentration and a blankly fogged expression. Given how disoriented Glisten already was when Rodger came to investigate, and how he seems to have only gotten more so after teleporting again, it doesn’t take a detective to put two and two together in this situation.
“Glisten,” Rodger sets one hand on Glisten’s atop the bedspread, “and mine is Rodger, remember?” He watches as Glisten’s face lights up in recognition, before he blinks and rubs the side of his head, making a grumble under his breath.
“Right, Rodger, I– I knew that,” Glisten mumbles, lifting his shoulder in a slight dismissive shrug, “...thank you. I’m not sure how I could ever forget your name, let alone mine.”
“It’s not a problem. We all have… moments. How are you feeling?”
“Mmph– fuzzy.”
Glisten leans back, blinking tiredly. Staring up into space, his eyes remain unfocused. He then glances back at Rodger, snickering softly.
“Two Rodgers, hah — twice the mystery solving, that’d– that’ll help you a lot…”
Well, there’s something I can agree with here…
Rodger hums and nods in reply, choosing to sit next to Glisten in silence as he tries to wait out some of the mirror's haze since he somewhat gets a little clearer over time. Glisten seems perfectly fine with this, flickering his face between reflective and opaque in the meantime to amuse himself. After a few minutes he blinks, returning his face to opaque as he looks to the detective and sighs semi-dramatically.
“Gosh, my head… I have to figure out how to stop that from happening every time.”
“Mm, well, you could perhaps not be teleporting every few seconds? We both know how that affects you,” Rodger cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eye.
“Ah– right,” Glisten coughed awkwardly, averting his gaze to the side, “I, uh– you weren't supposed to be seeing that, I try to wait ‘till everyone's asleep…”
“Clearly, at this hour,” he sighed, “I don't believe I've ever seen you that disoriented, though. You were pushing yourself too far, Glisten.”
“That was the point, but thanks for pointing out the obvious…”
Glisten flopped backwards onto his bedspread with widespread arms, looking up at the sheer covering above the bed that he'd let Toodles decorate with glow-in-the-dark stars at some point. Rodger looked down at the mirror’s face, his eyebrow quirked as Glisten let out a tired grumble.
“Stop looking at me like that, Rodge’...”
“Like what?”
“Like– like you're tryin’ to pull answers out of my head like one of Looey's magic scarf-trick-things,” he sighs, gesturing vaguely above him, “I've been practicing.”
Rodger glances between the stopwatch and Glisten for a few moments before it clicks in his head.
“You were timing yourself between teleports?” Rodger guesses, and judging by the light grumble from Glisten he knows he's correct.
“Why, though? We both know how dizzy you get.”
“Exactly,” Glisten sighs, looking over at Rodger with half-lidded, exhausted eyes, “I can't- I can't be doing that… not when our lives are at stake, I shouldn't feel so dizzy after teleporting and– and what if it ends up getting me or someone else hurt?”
Rodger hums sympathetically, leaning back on his hands as he sees Glisten's expression.
“So, I've been trying to up my resistance,” Glisten continues, sitting up and mimicking Rodger's position, “It's– it should be like a continued exposure thing you've talked about, right? The more your mind gets exposed to something, the more resistant it gets to it? So I teleport and teleport and keep doing it to improve my resistance to the dizziness.”
“Mm… and how is it going, based on your results tonight?”
“It's been going great, actually, thank you for asking~”
. . .
As Rodger fixes Glisten with a look and the latter bites his lower lip, they both know that neither of them are believing that statement.
“... it's been about the same as it always has been,” Glisten finally mumbles, stifling a yawn and fidgeting with the fuzz on his leg warmers, “I just need to keep trying. It just needs to be perfect…”
“Glisten…” Rodger tsks, putting a hand on the other's shoulder, “if nothing has changed by now, I doubt anything significant is going to happen within the immediate future–”
“Which is why I need to keep practicing–”
“Which is why you need to pace yourself.” Rodger cuts over the other's interruption firmly. “If you keep pushing yourself to the limit it'll only come back to bite you. You can't just throw yourself at a brick wall and expect it to crumble with sheer brute force. It needs to be taken down with time, little by little — you're just going to end up hurting yourself. I could hear you falling against things in here earlier, not to mention you not remembering names and what you were even doing.”
Glisten makes a small noise as he listens to Rodger, somewhere between a grumble and a begrudgingly agreeing hum, stifling a yawn as he does and looking around at his walls.
“...you should try to rest, Glisten. You're clearly exhausted.”
Rodger tilts his head, standing up as Glisten shoots him a look.
“You're one to talk, mister work-for-four-days-straight, you were still awake to hear me when everyone else was asleep.”
“Yes, well, I have to work–” Rodger attempts to retort, grabbing at the handle of his head.
“I have to rehearse,” Glisten raises an eyebrow, attempting to shove down another yawn and failing, “We– we both have important things to do, and yet you're gonna be preaching to me about sleeping…?”
Rodger rolls his eye while Glisten sticks his tongue out teasingly to the detective.
“Just please go to bed… and promise me you won't be getting up again to try practicing in secret…”
“Alright, alright, I promise, okay, Rodge’?” Glisten throws up his hands in mock surrender, scooting back on the bed up to his pillows, grabbing his sleeping mask, “Good night, Detective.”
“Goodnight, Glist’,” Rodger replies thankfully, crossing his arms as he prepares to leave the room.”
“Oh, and… Rodger?”
He stops in Glisten's doorway and turns back, looking at the mirror hugging his knees to himself on the bed, sleeping mask already pulled just above his eyes.
“Thanks for making sure I don't wake up on the floor,” he says quietly with a small smile, “Would absolutely ruin the beauty sleep… and just be uncomfortable.”
“It's not a problem at all, I had just heard noises from here and wanted to make sure you were alright.” Rodger's eye curves up at the bottom in his own way of smiling.
“Right… g’night.”
“Goodnight. Get some rest.”
Glisten gives a tiny wave to Rodger before he leaves, the mirror soon falling asleep from his mental exhaustion. The detective returns to the kitchen, his plastic feet tapping against the tiles as he makes his way back to the table and breathes a sigh, looking back down at his research before him.
. . .
‘Perhaps I should be taking my own advice sometimes’, he thinks to himself as he blinks tiredly, looking between the coffee pot on the counter and the elevator at the other end of the hall, mentally debating something.
After a few moments, he clicks the light off on the table and gathers his research, carrying them to the elevator and up to his room to turn in for the night.
He didn't really even realise how drained he was until he laid his head on the pillow.