[reverse darkest timeline AU: cellthread #3]

[stilljustandrew]

It's been about two days.

Nobody's come for him.



Andrew's lying down, staring at the far wall.

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[gothamsheiress]

On the one hand, when Brix came in sporting a few bruises on her throat, she found a certain amount of amused pleasure in Ava's what happened to you? reaction.

On the other hand, when Ava informed her of Andrew's behavior after she left -- that amusement, and the last remnants of her good feeling from her time with Matt, vanished away like ice in the summer sun.

She comes down the aisle, her back very straight, and halts outside his cell.

"Good day, Andrew."

[stilljustandrew]

He doesn't move, or look up.

[gothamsheiress]

"May I come in?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay."

[gothamsheiress]

"I am not interested in forcing my presence on you," she says. "You asked me to come back, but I'll return later if you don't wish to have me here now."

[stilljustandrew]

He lifts his head to look up at her, blinking as though the light's too bright for his eyes.

"You can come in."

[gothamsheiress]

"All right."

She steps forward through the transparent barrier and takes a seat, on the chair this time.

And just -- sits for a moment, observing Andrew closely.

[stilljustandrew]

He looks ... listless isn't nearly strong enough a word. Drained, maybe; enervated, not by any great exertion but by leaden despair. As she sits down, he lowers his head back to the pillow, like it's too heavy to hold up.

(His wrists aren't bound anymore; the zip tie is gone. But he's lying with his forearms together, as though they still are.)



"Maybe He thinks I'm dead." Low and dull, and as though continuing a conversation already in progress.

[gothamsheiress]

A little of the tension in her shoulders eases -- not because this is any improvement, but it at least means he's still willing to talk to her.

"Would he not be able to sense if you were or were not?"

[stilljustandrew]

"... I don't know." He shakes his head. "But He can't reach me in dreams, and ... and maybe He doesn't know why. I, I don't know."

[gothamsheiress]

Brix nods slowly.

"If he thinks you're dead, he may never come for you."

[stilljustandrew]

He blinks hard, and nods unsteadily.

"Because if I, if I died here, we don't ... we don't know if He could find me again. To bring me back."

[gothamsheiress]

". . . Bring you back?" She blinks at him.

[stilljustandrew]

"Back to life."

His eyes go to her again; the curiosity in them is faint, leaden, but there.

"Can angels not do that where you're from?"

[gothamsheiress]

Alarms begin to shout in her head.

"I don't know," she manages after a startled moment. "I haven't heard of such a thing. And I've never met an angel to ask."

[stilljustandrew]

"Oh."

That moment of interest flickers out, and his gaze sinks back to the far wall.



"He did that for me once." Much lower. "To show me."

[gothamsheiress]

"He brought you back from the dead."

[stilljustandrew]

He nods. "So I wouldn't ..."

The words trail off.

[gothamsheiress]

Well, Brix isn't about to prompt him. She's too busy trying to rein in her horror enough to hear anything besides her blood rushing in her ears.

[stilljustandrew]

"This was early," he says finally, very soft. "When I was still fighting Him. And, and first they told me He could do that, and then later He showed me."

He swallows.

"So I wouldn't try to die."

[gothamsheiress]

"He killed you?"

[stilljustandrew]

"To bring me back. So I'd understand."

He shifts, tucking his arms around himself as though cold.

[gothamsheiress]

"Andrew--"

She breaks off, runs a hand over her face, trying to collect her thoughts.

"How -- do you feel about that, now?"

[stilljustandrew]

He blinks at her.

"... that he brought me back?"

Shortly after:

[gothamsheiress]

Ava is unobtrusive about it, but Brix does notice that she already has tea and a chair waiting when Brix leaves Andrew's cell. She's good at giving Brix a little space to recover, too.

(If Ava is some reflection of Iva, Brix thinks, that makes a certain sense. That incisive understanding of people that Iva and Henri possess can be used for good or ill. Isn't that why Brix herself is here, after all?)

What she tells Ava, after a few minutes of quiet, is that this feels like progress -- both Andrew's willingness to talk and think about something other than Lucifer, and his tacit admissions that he was mistreated and forced into his loyalty. If she's honest, she can't say she's optimistic, precisely. Andrew seems balanced on a knife's edge, to her, and could as easily tip back into denial as he could move forward into acceptance and growth. But is there progress? Yes.

Which brings her to her suggestion: that as long as he's improving, Andrew should be given time in the bar proper. Awake, not asleep, and under the watch of Security -- but time that can make him feel less like a prisoner waiting for rescue and more like the man he was four years ago.

When the fever starts to break, after all, the sickroom can start to prolong the illness.