[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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[stilljustandrew]

"They're mine," he says, still a bit blankly. "They, they're supposed to stay on."

[gothamsheiress]

"According to whom?"

[stilljustandrew]

"You know," he whispers.

[gothamsheiress]

"I think," she says, quiet but definite, "you would likely feel better if you stopped wearing them."

[stilljustandrew]

"I --"

He shrinks back from her, arms held tighter to his chest, one wrist crossed over the other.

[gothamsheiress]

Brix makes no move to rise from where she's kneeling on the floor -- indeed, no move at all.

"I won't take them from you. But I think they're binding you to a memory of pain."

[stilljustandrew]

"It's not --"

He swallows.

"Not just pain."

[gothamsheiress]

"What if you took them off just for a night? To see how you felt. You needn't get rid of them or even put them away."

[stilljustandrew]

His head drops, and his shoulders hunch forward again.




"Please don't make me."

[gothamsheiress]

"I won't," again, calm and still definite. "But I ask you to think about it."

[stilljustandrew]

He swallows.

"What if," very low, "what if I say I don't want to."

[gothamsheiress]

Brix sighs softly.

"Then I will worry, and you will keep them, and that will be the end of that."

[stilljustandrew]

"Okay," he whispers. "I, I'll try. To think about it."

[gothamsheiress]

"Thank you."

It was worth trying -- strike while the iron is hot, after all -- but she would be lying if she told herself she isn't disappointed. But her expression remains composed and neutral.

"Is there anything else you need, in here? New books?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I ..."

His glance flickers to the stack still on the chair, and then down to his hands, as his arms relax into his lap.

"... I haven't read those yet."

[gothamsheiress]

"Oh -- would you like different ones?"

[stilljustandrew]

He shakes his head, biting his lip again.

"I keep ... I keep wanting to read one," he mumbles wretchedly, "and then being scared to, and feeling guilty about it, and ... I just stop thinking about it. Until next time."



"I don't know how to start."

[gothamsheiress]

"What scares you about them?"

[stilljustandrew]

"I don't know. I don't -- it's, I --"

He breathes out miserably.

"He wouldn't want me to, but it's not just that, it's -- I, I used to love them so much, and now I don't know if --"

[gothamsheiress]

". . . If you'll feel the same?"

[stilljustandrew]

Another nod.

[gothamsheiress]

"Do you think new ones might suit you better? Ones you have no association with."

The corner of her mouth lifts, though it's not quite a smile.

"I would offer to bring you something from my world, but I'm not sure our tastes run to similar ends."

[stilljustandrew]

"... I don't know either."

The crook of his mouth isn't exactly a smile either, but it does seem to bear some distant relationship to amusement.

"What do you like?"

[gothamsheiress]

"Histories, texts of instruction. Theology. I'm not much of one for poetry."

[stilljustandrew]

His mouth jerks slightly at the word theology; not quite a flinch.

"Doesn't sound like we have the same tastes," he mumbles. "I ... I don't know."

A beat, and when he speaks again, there's a hesitant note in it that might be hope.

"... do you think I should try to read these?"