[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.

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

"... why?"

It's not a question as such; it's an echo of her own use of the word, in a tone that sounds more like he's asking what?

[gothamsheiress]

Brix takes a breath.




"He had you for years." Her tone is low and even. "He threatened and punished you and even killed you, and brought you back so he could do it all again. Of course you came to see him as the center of the universe. He had unimaginable power over you. If he told you that summoning him was an insult, of course you agreed with him. How else could you survive? He never gave you a choice. He took all your choices away."

Her gaze flicks down to the cuffs on his wrists. "And he gave you pain and bondage and the treatment a man gives a recalcitrant hound to replace them."

[stilljustandrew]

He's staring at her in stricken terror, dead pale and silent; utterly motionless, like a prey animal that scents the predator too late.

It's several seconds before he even breathes, and his first breath stutters.

[gothamsheiress]

"I think you know that to be true," she continues, "but you can't accept, yet, that it's safe to think so."

[stilljustandrew]

"He could --"

He's shivering again; in his face, in his voice, there's a shifting combination of dread and hope.

"He could still come for me."

[gothamsheiress]

Brix raises her eyebrows.

"Are you sure you want him to?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I --"

His face works for several seconds, and his eyes squeeze shut, spilling over.

And he nods, silently.

[gothamsheiress]

Well, there's a mixed message.

She hopes one of these days she can walk away from a conversation with Andrew without having forced him to weep.

"Baby, some tissues?" she murmurs, looking away.

[stilljustandrew]

Mixed, and as such perfectly accurate.

Andrew fumbles for the box of tissues that manifests helpfully near him, extracts one, wipes at his eyes.



"I know how it s-sounds."

[gothamsheiress]

"How what sounds?"

[stilljustandrew]

"That I still --"

A wet sniff.

"That I don't want Him to leave me here."

[gothamsheiress]

"How do you think it sounds?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Bad."

[gothamsheiress]

"Can you be more specific?"

[stilljustandrew]

Another sniff, and he raises his head a little -- eyes still shut -- to try to put the feeling into words.

"Like I want something I shouldn't. Like I'm ... lying to myself."

His mouth jerks downward, as though snagged by a hook.

"Making bad choices."

[gothamsheiress]

She shakes her head.

"I don't think you're making bad choices."

[stilljustandrew]

That startles him; his eyes open, and he looks at her with an expression that suggests he's waiting for the punchline.

(There's an unconscious wariness about it, as though he's expecting it to be at his expense.)

[gothamsheiress]

Well--

"I think, just now, you're following the choices he made for you. It isn't your choice at all."

[stilljustandrew]

"That I want to go back to Him," he says slowly, unsteadily. "You're saying ... it's not me, it's that H-He made me want to go back to Him?"

[gothamsheiress]

"You tried to escape him, before," she points out. "And he made sure you knew that it would be painful and dangerous, to you and your friends, if you tried it again."

[stilljustandrew]

"But," he says, and trails off.

Looking deeply troubled, and maybe a little frightened.

[gothamsheiress]

"But?"

[stilljustandrew]

Small-voiced: "But He's good to me too. He is, I, I didn't make that up."

[gothamsheiress]

She nods slowly.

"All right. What has he done that's good for you?"

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew bites his lip.

"He ... He gave me a place. Where I could feel like I belonged. Like ... like I was wanted."