[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]

"Because ..."

His forehead furrows, with pain or concentration or both.

"Because if ..."

And a long silence, as he struggles with it.

[gothamsheiress]

She waits, hardly breathing.

[stilljustandrew]

"Because if he didn't want to, to serve Lucifer, and they made him want to ... and then I didn't want to, and they made me ... and, and then we brought in someone like Matt, and he didn't want --"

His voice cracks.

"Is any of it real?"

[gothamsheiress]

There doesn't seem to be a good answer to that. She shakes her head, regretful -- not to say no, but I don't know.

[stilljustandrew]

He covers his face with both hands, and what emerges is only the sound of harsh breathing; not sobs, but hitching, shaking gasps, like someone coming out of choking smoke.



"I --

"I don't know what to do."

[gothamsheiress]

"Don't run away from this," she says, sitting forward a little. "I know it's frightening, but don't hide from it. You're safe here. You don't have to know what to do yet."

[stilljustandrew]

He gulps, and tries to obey; his hands come down, uncovering his eyes, but stay curled over his mouth and chin as though trying to grasp and steady his breath by main force.

Very gradually, his breathing slows.

He doesn't look up.

[gothamsheiress]

"You're safe," she repeats. "I promise. You can face this."

[stilljustandrew]

Very muffled, through his hands:

"Maybe it isn't true."

[gothamsheiress]

"What isn't true?"

[stilljustandrew]

"That -- that he was like me once. That everybody was like me, all the way back, and -- and none of it's real."

The way he says it, it seems clear: he wants very much to believe it isn't true, and can't.

[gothamsheiress]

"I don't think that's likely. I'm sorry."

[stilljustandrew]

He's silent, face bleak, eyes lowered.

"I shouldn't be talking like this. About this. I shouldn't be thinking like this --"

[gothamsheiress]

"It isn't wrong to think," she says, firmly. "And no one here will punish you for it."

[stilljustandrew]

Andrew glances up at her -- a brief look, utterly daunted, pleading: promise?

[gothamsheiress]

"I give you my word," she murmurs. "As far as is it's in my power to keep you safe, I will."

[stilljustandrew]

His eyes well up again, and he blinks it back with difficulty.

"Thank you," he -- croaks is, sadly, probably the only word for it -- and coughs, short and sharp. And again.

His throat's painfully dry, and has been for some time without him noticing.

[gothamsheiress]

"Would you like some tea? Or water?"

[stilljustandrew]

"Water," he mumbles, "please."

A clear plastic carafe of water and two matching tumblers materialize out of the air, on the floor next to Brix.

[gothamsheiress]

She rises from her chair and settles kneeling on the floor, pours a cup of water for Andrew, hands it up to him.

[stilljustandrew]

He takes it without quite looking at her, holding the cup in both hands like a tired child, and takes a sip.

The sip turns into a gulp, and he doesn't take a breath for another several swallows, almost draining the cup.

[gothamsheiress]

She's started to pour herself a cup, as well -- but she pauses, holding the jug, and waits for him to take a breath instead.

"More?"

[stilljustandrew]

He nods, silently, and after a beat remembers to hold out the cup.

[gothamsheiress]

Smiling faintly, she refills his cup, then pours herself one as well.

The cell is quiet, for a moment or two. Brix's gaze is unfocused, resting on nothing in the middle distance, but she remains acutely aware of Andrew's breathing.

[stilljustandrew]

It's slow and deep, and only a little uneven.

He drinks the second cup of water slowly, trying to make it last.