[Detroit!AU: the first to come was a fair maid]

[stilljustandrew]

Jonathan's vision was pretty well unmistakable. Gabriel's in danger, and doesn't know it -- or at least doesn't know the specifics.

That would be enough on its own, even if Andrew didn't more or less owe him his life.



Gabriel's nowhere to be seen at Milliways, and no one seems to have run into him in the past couple of days. Well, and that's normal enough; there's no reason he'd be here all the time, and plenty of reason to make himself scarce, all things considered. Maybe he's just back home.

Please just let this not be too late.

Andrew writes out a note at the bar giving Jonathan's vision in as much detail as he can, folds it carefully in quarters, and writes "The Trickster (G.)" on the outside.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"No."

[gavemea_45]

"No what, exactly?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Just no."

There's dread, but no fear. He's gone through fear and out the other side, into this strange calm acceptance.

"I'm not going to work for you."

[gavemea_45]

Lucifer looks amused by this.

"Oh, I think you will."

A beat.

"It's not as though you have anywhere else left to go, now is it?"

[stilljustandrew]

He shakes his head.

"Doesn't matter."

[gavemea_45]

"Of course it does."

He slides both hands into his pockets, a casual gesture that Sam's made hundreds of times, and looks at Andrew.

"Not to mention that I'm finding it a little surprising that you would really abandon Sam, after everything, when you're now the only one who has a chance of restoring him before it's too late."

[stilljustandrew]

That should hit hard, he thinks distantly; it should hurt.

It skids off, like a punch thrown at one of Baby's cell walls.



He raises his head a little. "Is Sam listening to this?"

[gavemea_45]

"Of course," he says, mildly. "He's never not with me, Andrew."

He smiles.

"You might even say we're in close communion."

[stilljustandrew]

"Can I say something to him? Just ... a short something?"

[gavemea_45]

He raises his eyebrows again, but gives a small shrug.

"I don't see why not. Go ahead."

[stilljustandrew]

He swallows again, visibly.


"Hey, Sam."

Somewhere in his head, he wonders why he's not tearing up again.

"I know you're dead. And I'm sorry."

[gavemea_45]

He goes very, very still, and watches Andrew in silence.

[stilljustandrew]

"I'm sorry I was mad at you for leaving. I thought you came back here to give up. You didn't, and I know that now."

He's smiling; it's very small, and watery, and inexpressibly sweet.

"I loved you, man. I loved you so much."

His voice is soft, but not broken.

"I'll miss you. And I promise: I'll hold out as long as I can."

A long beat.

"Goodbye, Sam."





And a much longer one, before he lowers his head.

"Okay."

[gavemea_45]

Lucifer doesn't move.

He remains perfectly silent, watching Andrew with focused intensity.





Seconds tick by. Somewhere outside, a breeze rattles through a tree's branches. No birds sing; no voices are heard.

There's a deep stillness in the room.

[stilljustandrew]

It's meant to unnerve him. He knows that.



It's working.



He's not going to be the first to speak, he resolves.

[gavemea_45]

The silence stretches.

He's standing in the same casual stance, studying Andrew as though he's some new species of ant that's just done something worthy of note.

Slowly, by near-imperceptible degrees, a smile begins to stretch his lips.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew stands where he is, and tries not to shake.

[gavemea_45]

His smile broadens.

He pulls his hands from his pockets, and takes a step forward, closing some of the distance between them.

[stilljustandrew]

Utterly without meaning to, he sways back a half-step.

[gavemea_45]

He laughs, low and dark, but stops where he is.

Instead, Lucifer holds out a hand to Andrew, clearly expecting him to take it.

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew folds his arms around himself, hands jammed into his armpits as though against bitterest cold -- or as though trying to trap them, to make sure neither hand flies to Lucifer of its own accord.

Get it over with. Whatever you're going to do.

Just do it.

[gavemea_45]

"Come here, Andrew Wells."

He's still smiling, but there's a weight of utter implacability in his tone.

[stilljustandrew]

"No."

Maybe it's just the expression on his face, but -- even though it's the same body, it doesn't look to him at all like Sam Winchester anymore.

[gavemea_45]

He raises his eyebrows again, his smile unwavering.

"Do you really want to challenge me on something this minor?"

[stilljustandrew]

He doesn't answer, just shoves his hands further under his arms and stands his ground.