[reverse darkest timeline AU: cellthread #2]

[stilljustandrew]

[Previously: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5]

What's worried Baby the most, over the past few days --

Well. What's upset her the most is Andrew's consistent refusal to speak to her mind-to-mind, or out loud beyond the few necessary words she might exchange with any other inmate, such as requests for food, fresh clothes, an extra blanket.

But what's worried her is that he hasn't asked for anything to pass the time. No tablet with games or videos on it, no pencil and paper, no baseball to bounce off the opposite wall.

No books.



In the cell, Andrew finishes his breakfast (cornflakes, with sliced banana), sets aside the bowl, and settles down leaning against the wall.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"I ... I mean you said, why live if your desires and choices don't mean anything, and I, I just mean ... it isn't like that for everybody."

[gothamsheiress]

"Yet you told me before that we're small. Insignificant, in the larger scheme."

[stilljustandrew]

"Right," he says, "but ... but the larger scheme isn't the scale most people live on? And, and that's okay."

[gothamsheiress]

Brix looks genuinely puzzled.

"How do you mean, 'most people don't live on the scale of the larger scheme'?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Like -- the big things, the really important things, that affect the whole world? They don't come around that often. Like, whole generations can live in between them, and, and they can just ... go about their lives. Be the biggest thing in their own lives."

He's frowning down at his knees, working hard at coming up with the right words. "And you don't even necessarily see the larger scale, unless ... unless you get called on to serve something greater."

[gothamsheiress]

"You aren't wrong," she says slowly, frowning herself.

"But then those people must be the most insignificant of all, surely. If the choices and will of those who are called to serve" -- she gestures at him -- "matter not at all, then the choices and will of -- of a laundress in a country town matter less than nothing."

[stilljustandrew]

He's silent, brows tugged together unhappily.

[gothamsheiress]

Still puzzled: "Is that not so?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I don't know."

[gothamsheiress]

"But the laundress must matter, even if the only thing she does is wash the clothes of the man who cooks for the mayor, for she makes sure he can go to work, and he must matter for he feeds the mayor, and even if the mayor never sees a city bigger than his little town, for his town is part of the province and that province is part of the country."

She shakes her head. "And if little Emilie, who will never be in any story, never hold the fate of the world in her hands, if she matters, how much more must you?"

[stilljustandrew]

He's shaking his head as she starts the final sentence; he's seen where this is going. His eyes squeeze shut at who will never be in any story.

"I don't," he says unsteadily, "I don't, I'm not --"

[gothamsheiress]

"Who told you so?" she asks, appalled. Hurt by his hurt. Angry.

Who took this man and told him he was worth so little? Where was Naamah's love for him? And where was Kushiel's justice?

[stilljustandrew]

He pushes a hand through his hair, avoiding her eyes.

"It's not like that --"

[gothamsheiress]

"What's not like what?"

[stilljustandrew]

"It's not like s-someone told me, and, and that's why I'm saying it, it's just the truth. And it's okay."

[gothamsheiress]

"It is not," she replies, horrified, "neither true nor okay."

[stilljustandrew]

"It is true," he insists, "it's always been true. And I used to hate it, I used to have to make things up all the time to tell myself it wasn't true, I had to make myself out to be super important, and, and special, and better than everyone --"

His voice shakes; his eyes are burning.

"And I don't need that anymore. Not when I'm with Him."

[gothamsheiress]

"Andrew."

Brix rises and crosses the cell, kneeling beside him, and oh, she would like to give him the comfort of touch, but she's afraid he'll shy away.

"This is not a game of dice where you win the pot or you lose it all. If you are not a king or an angel or an archangel, it does not follow that you're nothing. You, Andrew, you still matter. And you're not with him now, and you matter to me."

[stilljustandrew]

She's not wrong; he's shrinking away from her nearness even without an offered touch.

Or maybe it's her words he's shrinking from. The look on his face is fear, no longer hiding itself.

[gothamsheiress]

Brix sits back on her heels, almost abeyante, to give him a little more space.

"What frightens you about that?" she asks, very soft.

[stilljustandrew]

"What --"

His throat is too tight to make a sound; the words come out as a breathless whisper.

"What do you want?"

[gothamsheiress]

She takes a slow breath in, out.

"Just now," she murmurs, "I want help you face what it is that's frightening you."

[stilljustandrew]

"If I, if I matter to you then you want something --"

He fumbles for the ring on one of the cuffs, grips it tight.

[gothamsheiress]

Brix gives him a startled look.

"Andrew -- the only thing I want is your well-being. That is the only reason I'm here." She lifts a hand, palm up, and indicates the cell. "What could I even ask of you?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I don't know."

He's shaking.