Step, step right over the line

[casperdisaster]

Who: Noah and Gansey at first, later Ronan and Adam as well(?)
What: After roughly six months of hiding it from him, Noah's the one to tell Gansey about what he has waiting for him back in Henrietta.
Where: Raven Haus
When: 11/15 Evening
Warnings: Spoilers for The Raven Cycle so far.



Normally when Noah went to Gansey's room after they tucked in to bed he'd wait at least an hour first. Same with Gansey seeking Noah out. There was attempts to spend the nights alone rather than the comfort of company.

Noah couldn't stop thinking about it, though. Ever since he was talking to Bruce about Ronan being homesick. They'd been away from home for about six months now, give or take. Gansey only had... eight. At most. If the Technicians from before were to be believed, he still had all his time waiting for him when they returned to Henrietta, but it still weighted on Noah's mind for the last couple weeks.

Someone had to tell him. Neither Ronan nor Adam were going to.

Giving bad news made him sick inside, but Gansey deserved to know.

It was heavy material to think over when brushing teeth right before bed. Noah used the rest of the time to steel his will about it, not that he had much to be steeled. He couldn't wait, he'd chicken out if he did. Instead of turning the bathroom light off and heading to his room to at least try to sleep alone, he went to Gansey's door instead and knocked on it.

"Gansey? Um, are you still awake?" Noah called. It was probably a stupid question but ... it was possible the insomniac could have fallen right asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow tonight.

Comments

[unknowable]

"Yeah."

He's not sure he'll be able to sleep, but he isn't going to say that to Ronan, who after all has far more trouble with that than Adam does. He wishes recklessly that things were different, that he could ask Ronan to stay with him, because he knows that being alone with his thoughts is going to be - difficult. Frustrating. It's not that Adam wants anything besides company. He just misses the days when Ronan would sleep - or not sleep - on his floor, the cramped apartment above St Agnes paradoxically seeming a little bigger with him in it. They didn't talk much, mostly, but having a real person there instead of just Cabeswater's ghosts - well, it helped.

But he never asked that of Ronan then, and he especially can't now, with all that's between them. It would be the height of selfishness. And it's fine if Adam can't sleep. He has to plan, even if there's nothing they can do here, even if they might never get home. He has to make every plan that he can, to be sure that Gansey will be safe. Sleep will be a necessary casualty, until he exhausts himself too much to stay awake.

He doesn't like that any of this happened. But Ronan hasn't turned away from him, even if Gansey did, and Adam's goals haven't changed. Gansey might be angry, he might not trust Adam anymore, but Adam is going to keep him safe anyway. It's not a heroic impulse, not a kind one. It's pure stubbornness, probably, but that's fine.

"Thanks."

He doubts Ronan wants to hear that, and it feels awkward to say it, but - it needs to be said.

[greywaren]

Ronan brushes off the thanks with a shrug and looks away. There's still more to deal with- Gansey is still angry and Noah is still responsible and Adam is still going to worry over what will or won't happen, but for now- there's nothing else they can do but lay in separate corners of the house and pretend to sleep.

So he leaves, opening his door and slamming it shut because, to Ronan, slamming a door might as well be a punctuation mark at the end of a conversation- and this conversatin requires a particularly loud mark, even if he's not exactly angry with Adam. Besides, it can't wake anyone up if nobody is asleep, and if nothing else, at least Gansey upstairs can know that they're not talking shit anymore.

Chainsaw croons softly, a calming sort of noise, but Ronan ignores it. He hasn't slept in the same room as Adam since the last train car, when he'd crashed down on the floor near his bed. They'd all lived in the same house since then- being next to him when he might as well just be a room or two over seemed excessive, more invasive than visiting the tiny apartment above the church somehow, and so he hadn't. He doesn't now.

Instead, he flops backward into his bed, digging his palms into his eyes with a groan. Chainsaw flutters up to the bedpost and he ignores that too.

It's going to be a long night.