T H E W A S T E L A N D

Disclaimer: not mine.

Warning: AU, for my very personal take on Andrew's background.

CHAPTER ONE: Who art thou?

Part one.

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Angels, they say, are often uncertain

wheter they move among the living or the dead. The eternal torrent

flows through both worlds, whirling all ages along with it,

and drowning their voices with its song.

(Rilke, The First Elegy)

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"So, what's our next case?"

Monica was as radiant as the new morning, smiling up at Tess from behind her extensive breakfast. They were travelling down the coast, living life day by day while waiting for directions, and so, being in no hurry, they had decided to stay at this cheap, but friendly little motel for the night. It was a nice way to travel: a red convertible, good company and every time of the world. But they knew that the peace woudn't last, and Monica became soon itchy to meet her new assignement.

Tess sighed; the impatience of youth. But confronted with a smile like that, it was hard to summon a grumpy reply, even if she wasn't exactly a morning person. She was a blues singer, after all.

"Patience is a virtue, Miss Wings", she replied, taking a seat. Halfheartedly, she sniffed at the coffee. At least ist smelled strong enough. They'd certainly need it these coming days.

"Speaking of which, how come I'm missing a certain angelic face at this table? Didn't Andrew use to be every bit an early bird as you?"

Monica didn't look up from the toast she was buttering. "Probably just sleeping in. He's had a rough time these past few days. I haven't heard anything from his room since he went to bed early yesterday evening."

Tess smiled fondly at the memory of an Andrew in complete and utter awe at the wonder of childbirth happening in his ambulance. Their last assignement had been a burnt-out paramedic,a nd Andrew had volunteered to go on a string of night shifts with him. At first, the idea had seemed strange: the Angel of Death battling drugs and violence in the streets of downtown Chicago, but Andrew had managed not only to get his charge through a rough few days without loosing one single patient, they'd even assisted in bringing a child to this world.

"You're thinking about that last assignment." Monica was watching her across the table, smiling at her own memories. "You know, that's exactly what I love about this job – that we're able to give a little hope to people. Oh Tess, why can't you just tell me who my new assignement is? Is it here, ibn this town?"

Tess sighed, her heart suddenly heavy. Sometimes, she wished she could change the things that were about to happen.

"It's near, Miss Wings", she said soflty, "it's near."

Monica didn't pay attention, though. Distracted by a tall figure approaching the table, she was looking up. Welcoming Andrew with a radiant smile, she pushed the apricot jam – his favourit – in the general direction of his plate. He reciprocated her friendly good-morning, but Tess didn't miss the fact that he avoided eye-contact with both of them as he sat down.

"I was just grilling Tess about our next case", Monica began her usual chatter while providing him woth assorted pieces of breakfast. "As always, she knows something, but won't tell. But, you know, I have a feeling that it won't be long now… Did you sleep well?"

"Alright." Andrew continued to stare down at the bread on his plate.

"I was wondering – is there one of these funny things in your bathroom, too? Tess says it'S kind of a European thing, but wouldn't tell me what it is good for… Anyway, did you notice? It's finally stopped raining, maybe we can drive with open top, today. Wouldn't that be great?"

"Sure."

Surprised, Monica looked up, finally noticing his uncharacteristically shorthanded answers. Andrew just sat there, head bowed, pushing his breakfast around in his plate. He'd not eaten a bit, yet.

"Are you alright, Andrew?" Monica asked, concern in her voice.

Short pause.

"I'm okay."

"Well, I don't think so, Angelboy." Tess' firm voice startled both of them. Determined, she reached out, taking Andrew's chin and lifting his face. And her heart ached at what she saw.

Andrew's face was covered in sweat, the dark rings around his too bright eyes in stark contrast to his pale skin. He looked tired and sick and really, really embarassed.

"Oh, baby."

"It's not as bad as it looks, Tess." Andrew was nearly pleading. "Just a little cold. I'm…"

"We both know that it's more than a little cold, Angelboy. And I won't even start arguing with you – you're going straight back to bed."

"Tess, please…"

Surprisingly gentle given her harsh tone, Tess laid a hand on his forehead. "You're running a fever. Have you got your medicines?"

Andrew sighed resignedly. "Yeah. Took some Tylenol, but it didn't really help."

"When did it start?"

Silence.

"Couple of days ago."

"Okay." Tess stood suddenly, urging a startled Andrew to his feet. "This is the plan. Monica and I are going to talk to the manager about prolonging our reservation, and when we get back to your room, we find you all nicely set up in bed. Deal?"

Andrew smiled wearily. "Deal. Just promise not to drag me to a hospital, this time."

"Then be good, Angelboy. Be good."

tbc

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