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“I don’t know when it all began. I just remember being there one day, knowing I’d do anything to protect him.”
“How old was Graves?”
He thinks for a minute. “Eight. But I wasn’t Graves’s first alter. There were others. Tilly, she was ten, told me some of the things that happened before I came. Back then, there was Brookes too. A badass robot who could destroy us all, but he was too good for that.” He grins.
I look at Blink, who looks confused. I’m not faring much better myself, but you better believe I’ll research everything I can get my hands on.
Glitch grins at Blink. “Not every alter is the same age, sex, race, or even human. Some can be animals, Beth says. But we had a fucking robot.” His grin is wild before it turns sad.
“They’re gone now. Not lost. I can still feel them, but it’s like they went to sleep.”
He shakes himself out of it. “DID is widely misdiagnosed as schizophrenia, which is what happened with Graves. Luckily, he ended up with Beth as his therapist. She had a niece with DID. It’s an area she specializes in, and she helped us a lot.”
He blinks a few times, then his expression falls, confusion etching every line of his face. He reaches for the chair closest to him and all but falls into it.
“Glitch man, you alright?” Vega reaches for him but stops himself from grabbing him at the last second.
“You spoke to Glitch?” Graves’s voice sounds dry, so I hand him the glass of water.
“Yeah, he’s protective of you.” I squeeze his shoulder when he takes it, not wanting to crowd him.
“There were more of them.”
“He told us.” Blink smiles. “A robot? Seriously cool.”
I blink back tears at how fucking amazing these men are. They could have run for the hills because nothing about this will be easy for any of us. But no, they are sitting here as if it’s the most natural thing in the world, and who knows, perhaps it is. This is our normal, and instead of being fearful of Glitch and any other alters Graves might have, I find myself wildly curious.
Graves smiles, and it’s the first genuine one he’s given us since he first started talking. It’s so filled with relief and hope that my heart swells with emotion for him.
He turns serious for a moment. “Did he tell you what happened to me?”
“Not in detail,” Law answers.
“I only remember snippets from what Beth has put together from talking with the alters. It’s how we’ve filled in a lot of the blanks.”
“You don’t remember anything that happens when…uh, they’re in the driver’s seat? I’m sorry, I don’t know the PC way to ask these kinds of things.” I cringe, making him laugh.
“I don’t give a fuck about PC. I care that you’re all still here, still listening, still giving me a chance.”
“Why wouldn’t we? You’re our friend, Graves. What kind of friends would we be to walk away over something you can’t control?” Vega asks, sounding…hurt.
“Not everyone sees it that way, Vega,” Graves says sadly, and my heart breaks for him.
“To answer your question, Mal, no. And before you ask if that’s normal, I couldn’t tell you. There are no hard and fast rules for DID. Some people have one alter, others have dozens. Some people remember, or should I say are more aware, when their alters are in the driver’s seat. And some, like me, have nothing but blank spots. My case is slightly different. I was diagnosed with DID two years before I was in a car accident that caused some brain damage. As a result of the damage, Beth doesn’t think I’ll ever move much past the stage I’m at now. Not that there is any proof, as such, to back her theory up. It’s such a gray area. I’ve learned the skills I need to live as I am, but it hasn’t been easy. Beth keeps so many notes, and Glitch writes a journal.” He laughs at that as if it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. But I’m not sure how to respond.
“It’s because of them that I know what I do. Thanks to the accident, I lost chunks of memory. And more than that, I lost Tilly and Brookes. I don’t remember them at all. I was once aware of their presence, apparently, or at least more so than now. But my brain feels like a sieve half the time. Whatever goes in is filtered out through all these tiny holes, and I only retain parts of it. I have to be the worst host,” he mutters. I could be imagining it, but I sense he feels guilty about it.
“Host? Like you, Graves, are the primary personality?” Law asks.
Graves nods. “Ironic, right? I’m the one that checks out, leaving Glitch to take over when things get tough, and he’s the only one of the two of us that remembers. But Beth says that’s not how it always works. No picking and choosing.” He shrugs.
“Beth is good? You like her?” The woman sounds like she has a huge amount of input in his life, and if the doc isn’t on the up-and-up, I’ll destroy her, and I can’t imagine what kind of blow that would deal him.
“Yeah,” he says with a relieved smile. “She’s amazing. I honestly don’t know where I’d be now if it wasn’t for her. I’ve been going to her for ten years now, and I still see her weekly.”
“Can I ask you something?” Law leans forward, his forearms resting on his thighs.
“Sure. Can’t guarantee you I’ll have the answer, though.”
