stilljustandrew | (no subject)

(no subject)

It's been dark for hours when they get to the empty warehouse. Andrew's visibly on edge, looking into the shadows and trying to stare in all directions at once, until Jonathan finds the unbolted door that let him out the first time and lets them both in now.

"We're gonna need some light," he says in an undertone as Jonathan closes the door behind them.

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"What do you mean?" he asks warily, eyeing her.

"You know what never happened in this reality?" She takes another step toward him, still smirking. "You getting brought back to life by some wanna-Power-that-Be. Guess what that means."

He stares at her, with a flickering glance at Andrew.

"...I didn't pay the price."

"... what?" Andrew stares at him, then at Cia. "What price?"

"The price for getting brought back to life," Jonathan says swiftly, his stare at Cia turning challenging. Don't you dare.

"Was it worth it?" She spreads her hands, as though offering him a look at their surroundings. "Is it gonna be worth putting everything back like it was?"

"This isn't how the world is meant to be," Jonathan says quietly. "I don't belong here."

"You don't belong anywhere," she tells him. "You belong dead."

"Shut up," says Andrew abruptly, his voice shaking. "No he doesn't."

"Maybe," Jonathan tells her, "but I'm not. And I'm going to make the best of the second chance."

"Even if it means --?"

"Even if it means," he cuts her off, but he doesn't, for now, press on the issue of the wish. His eyes are troubled.

"What does it mean?"

Andrew looks from the demon to Jonathan, dread rising in his face.

"Jonathan, what does it mean?"

"Don't," Jonathan snaps at the demon. "Don't you tell him." Then turning to his friend, "I think what she's getting at is the price doesn't apply here. But... other you didn't take it so well when I told him what it was, and if she's right... I don't want it on your shoulders."

"Give me one good reason not to tell him," Cia says, and the look on her face is a triumphant smirk.

"If you don't, we won't tell D'Hoffryn what you did," Jonathan says, giving her a steely glare. "And I'll help you, if I can, make sure he never finds out. And if you do tell him, Cia, I will not rest until you're punished."

"Why, Jonathan," she marvels. "That sounded positively ... vengeful."

"It's what you understand," he answers flatly. "Might as well speak your language."

"So that kind of leaves us at an impasse, doesn't it?"

Her eyes are glinting with suppressed amusement, and fixed on Jonathan.

(It means she's not looking at Andrew slowly edging to one side, away from them.)

Jonathan is perfectly aware of where Andrew is, and keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Cia's face. The longer he can hold her attention...

"In a way. You should remember, though, I won't be happy if you tell what you know, but I'll live. How long do you think you will if I tell what I know?"

Her mouth stretches into something that shows her teeth, but isn't a smile. "You'll live, huh?"

And then she moves, too fast to dodge, and her hand locks around Jonathan's neck and slams him backward against the wall.

"Bets?"

He chokes, but manages something vaguely like a smile at her as his hand slips towards her wrist.

"So do it. You know I'm not afraid of it here."

"No!"

That's Andrew, shrill and desperate, as he hits Cia from behind in an inefficient flying tackle.

It's not enough to knock her over, but it does stagger her -- and it means she's crucially distracted, trying to fend him off.

Jonathan drops to the floor, takes just a few seconds to draw much-needed breath, then lunges in to join the fray.

He wants that bracelet and he means to get it.

Cia snarls when she loses her grip on Jonathan, and swings her arm in a blow that knocks Andrew off his feet. He lands several yards away, dazed and struggling to get back up.

Turning back, her hand closes over Jonathan's just as his closes on her bracelet.