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hadriel_logs2016-01-27 08:40 pm
unknowable) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-01-27 08:40 pm
Entry tags:
down there in the dark I could see
Who: Adam Parrish (unknowable) and Ronan Lynch (greywaren)
What: Scrying for their missing best friend.
Where: House 1303
When: 1/27
Warnings: Teenagers with problems, weird magic shit, unresolved sexual tension
[It's taken some time to recover from the coffin. Not physically - not so much, anyway, though it did take a few days for Adam to regain his strength, for the cuts and bruises to heal. It's the emotional effects of it, more than anything, that still cling to him, that he can't quite shake. Adam has been through a lot in his life - they both have - and he can't always pretend that it means nothing.
He's stayed close to Ronan. Adam likes his space, normally, he needs to be alone sometimes, but recently he's been more comforted by Ronan's presence than by the lack of him. His nerves are still raw, he still wakes up suddenly expecting there to be walls tight around him. It'll fade, he knows, he'll be fine, but he's not yet. And Ronan doesn't seem to want to stray too far from him, either, so it's all right. Soon enough there'll be reason to, soon enough they'll get annoyed with each other or distracted or something. For now it's fine. For now, this is how he prefers it.
And he's been thinking. Adam tried to scry for Gansey already, three times, but it didn't get him anywhere. He was upset and angry, he'd fought with Ronan and everything was going wrong. He couldn't concentrate, and when he could, it was too easy to slip away from himself. There was no one there to bring him back if he got lost. Noah is a ghost, Adam couldn't count on him to be able to stay, and Ronan was gone. But now - now things are different. Ronan is here. He's not alone. It might be possible.
There are still things he's not sure about, like whether Ronan could actually bring him back, whether Ronan could hurt him like that if it were necessary. But he trusts Ronan, he has to trust him, and he has to do this. For both of them. They need to know that Gansey is safe at home, and Cabeswater can tell them. Adam already knows what he has to do, it's been on the tip of his tongue for a couple days now, and finally he just - says it.
They're at home, Adam on one of the sofa-like benches, Ronan not far, when Adam looks up.]
Hey. I need your help with something.
unknowable) and Ronan Lynch (greywaren)What: Scrying for their missing best friend.
Where: House 1303
When: 1/27
Warnings: Teenagers with problems, weird magic shit, unresolved sexual tension
[It's taken some time to recover from the coffin. Not physically - not so much, anyway, though it did take a few days for Adam to regain his strength, for the cuts and bruises to heal. It's the emotional effects of it, more than anything, that still cling to him, that he can't quite shake. Adam has been through a lot in his life - they both have - and he can't always pretend that it means nothing.
He's stayed close to Ronan. Adam likes his space, normally, he needs to be alone sometimes, but recently he's been more comforted by Ronan's presence than by the lack of him. His nerves are still raw, he still wakes up suddenly expecting there to be walls tight around him. It'll fade, he knows, he'll be fine, but he's not yet. And Ronan doesn't seem to want to stray too far from him, either, so it's all right. Soon enough there'll be reason to, soon enough they'll get annoyed with each other or distracted or something. For now it's fine. For now, this is how he prefers it.
And he's been thinking. Adam tried to scry for Gansey already, three times, but it didn't get him anywhere. He was upset and angry, he'd fought with Ronan and everything was going wrong. He couldn't concentrate, and when he could, it was too easy to slip away from himself. There was no one there to bring him back if he got lost. Noah is a ghost, Adam couldn't count on him to be able to stay, and Ronan was gone. But now - now things are different. Ronan is here. He's not alone. It might be possible.
There are still things he's not sure about, like whether Ronan could actually bring him back, whether Ronan could hurt him like that if it were necessary. But he trusts Ronan, he has to trust him, and he has to do this. For both of them. They need to know that Gansey is safe at home, and Cabeswater can tell them. Adam already knows what he has to do, it's been on the tip of his tongue for a couple days now, and finally he just - says it.
They're at home, Adam on one of the sofa-like benches, Ronan not far, when Adam looks up.]
Hey. I need your help with something.
no subject
Gansey, Adam thinks, trying to focus, trying to pry what he needs from what the forest is showing him. It has a mind of its own, it usually only shows him what it needs. These conversations, if that's what they are, are usually Adam asking it what it needs and it telling him however he can understand. It's not this, him asking, him reaching for an answer that has nothing to do with the ley line.
Not nothing. Gansey is connected too, in his own way. Not the way Adam or Noah or Ronan is, not inextricably and intensely, but there is a connection. Please, Adam thinks, but there's enough force behind it that it's not a plea, not really. Adam is stubborn and Adam is tenacious and Adam is what he is because he was willing to do what needed to be done. This is what needs to be done, and if Cabeswater doesn't understand that, he'll make it.
It isn't as difficult as that, though. It's like cupping water in shaky hands, droplets slipping through every moment, difficult but not impossible. He thinks of Gansey, a steady, warm presence, Gansey who he fights with and hurts and doesn't deserve but who is always their guiding light, the one who's somehow managed to keep them in one piece despite all odds. How much Adam needs to know that he's safe, how much he desperately wants Gansey's safety and comfort and happiness, knowing that it can't last. But he'll save Gansey, he'll give everything he has to be sure of his friend's life, he won't be responsible for the death of one of the only people who's ever thought he was worth anything at all. And this, right now, he needs for himself and he needs for Ronan, because Adam can be sensible and practical but he can't calm their fears. He needs to know.
He sees it then, snapshots and moments. Gansey and his ridiculous polos and his hands carefully building a piece of Henrietta. Gansey, safe. And Adam doubts, because he always doubts, but somehow - somehow there's no reason to. He doubts because that's what he does, not because it isn't true. He knows what's true and what isn't, at least right here, at least right now. He knows what he sees, and what he sees is Gansey at Monmouth, in Henrietta, where he belongs.
He lets go, in his relief. His body isn't even a concern, isn't even something he's thinking of, though on some level Adam knows he got what he came for and it's time to go back. But there's more, there's always more, Cabeswater always has things to show him. He has things to show himself. It's easy to go deeper, hard to remember why he shouldn't.
There's a sense of stillness to Cabeswater, a frozen feeling, but Adam himself is nothing like frozen. He's changing, always, and here no less than back home. Bits of himself are cracking, other bits are coming together, some things making more sense and others making less. He sees a flower, a weed, blooming out of cracked dirt, surviving when it shouldn't. A wisp of smoke, blown apart by the wind, barely holding together. Blood soaking into wet ground. A flock of birds, turning as one. Ronan's hands, bloody and broken from digging graves for days. Rotting leaves on the ground and birds screaming someone's name and a wolf's yellow eyes and more, more, more.
Adam doesn't know how long it's been. No time at all, he thinks, and sinks deeper, reaching for more certainty, more knowledge that Gansey is safe, that they will be all right.]
no subject
Eight minutes left. Ronan rubs his face with the back of his bandaged hand and glances down into the pool itself. It's just gray, though- nothing else, just water, just a bowl. Still, though. Eerily so, like a photograph of water, rather than the real thing. He considers sticking a finger into it to see if it could actually ripple and move, but thinks better of it. If this is Adam's mirror into Cabeswater, then he doesn't want to fuck it up.
Adam himself is quiet. Ronan turns his focus back toward his friend, his mouth drawn in a thin line as he tries to focus on the details of him. Did his eyes look that glassy when they began this, was his breathing really that slow? Five minutes left. Adam is as still as the pool of water. Ronan's fingers tighten into a fist and he eyes Adam's chest carefully to make sure it's still rising and falling. Shallow, few breaths.
At the three minute mark, Adam exhales and doesn't inhale again.]
-hey...
[Ronan reaches for him, to shake his shoulder gently at first. He counts the seconds- fifteen, since the exhale, probably twenty since the last inhale. Adam's eyes are distant. He's not blinking. Ronan shakes him harder. Twenty seconds.]
Hey, wake up. It's time, okay? [Twenty-three. A tremor of fear lances its way through his chest. Adam is as still as a grave. Ronan jams two of his fingers on the underside of Adam's jaw to feel for a pulse and is relieved for a brief second when Adam's heartbeat rises to meet his fingers. He hasn't lost him yet. Twenty-seven seconds.
He has to wake him up. He has to hurt him. That's what Adam said. Ronan clutches his other hand tight and looks toward Adam's angular face, imagines the physical act of striking him. His stomach churns at the thought of it and his fingers on Adam's pulse slide back to curl around jaw in reassurance, support, he's not quite sure what. He has to hurt him. Fuck. Thirty-five.
Quickly, quickly. He'll lose him.]
Breathe. Adam. Breathe!
[Ronan yells it at him, no response. He draws his arm for a sharp slap- god, he should have grabbed a knife from the kitchen, god he should have thought this through, god he never should have agreed to this in the first place and his arm is locked tight, but Ronan falters. Forty.
He has to hurt him. That's what Adam said. Hit me, slap me, shake me. Can he do that? Can Ronan actually- actually do that, when he knows what's been done to him?]
Shit, [his voice trembles and he drops his arm, looks up at Adam's still form. Is he dead? Has he lost him? If he has, it would be his fault. Adam's death would be on his shoulders, his responsibility, his enormous fuckup. The hand still on Adam's face and throat tightens a little and he dips his head to look at him from up close.
There's no time. There's no time to think. They should have discussed this further, should have thought this through, and Ronan's heart is a frenzy of panic and he has to startle Adam awake through pain, or- or something else, and his other hand reaches up to cup Adam's cheek- forty-five. Seconds are eternity, but seconds are also life for now, and Ronan rushes forward impulsively, hardly daring to think about the ramifications of what he's doing as he presses his mouth against Adam's in what could be called a kiss.
He feels stupid even as he's doing it. He doesn't know why this could work over anything else, but he thinks, maybe- he's the Greywaren, Cabeswater loves him, Cabeswater needs him. If Cabeswater could still sense him on the other side of Adam's skin, maybe it would put Adam back into it. Or maybe just the shock of something like this would be similar enough to that of the pain, enough to startle him awake. He doesn't know.
They don't have time for storybook tests like this, but Ronan would do anything to not have to hurt him, and if this doesn't work then he'll just knuckle up and strike him and live with himself in the aftermath of it, but now- now there's just precious seconds of a senseless rush and a stupid hope and a desperate, desperate longing.]
no subject
But it loves Ronan, and it has always given him everything he asks for. Ronan is not asleep, but he's asking anyway, and maybe it's because he's so close to Adam or maybe it's for some other reason, but Cabeswater is listening.
The visions get softer-edged, softer in every way, blood turning into water, branches turning to grass, the smell of trees after rain, mist and moss and the sound of animal feet against the warm, living earth. It fades away, almost easy, almost like waking from a dream, and Adam doesn't try to hold on to it. He can feel Cabeswater pulling away, and he doesn't know why, but it feels right. He doesn't resist.
He slowly becomes conscious of his body. His fingers, his hands, tingling almost as if they've fallen asleep. His shoulders, loose. Someone's - Ronan's - hands on his face, his lips on Adam's.
If he were more awake, maybe, he would freeze. He wouldn't know how to react, wouldn't know what to do. How are you supposed to react when you wake up to a kiss, like some kind of fairytale? What are you supposed to do when you've been thinking about something for weeks, months, and then it's happening? Adam is the type to overthink things, the type to let his thoughts and worries get in the way. That's why it's taken so long, after all. He would think that Ronan is doing this for expediency's sake, to wake him up, not because he really wants to kiss Adam. He'd think that it isn't even really a kiss, not really an expression of caring or desire, not something that an affection-starved lonely boy should take to heart.
But right now, he's not thinking. He's waking up, sliding back into his body as if it's a coat he can just put back on, and Ronan is kissing him. His chest moves suddenly, he pulls away enough to gasp a breath of air, and then without thinking he leans in again, presses his lips to Ronan's, clumsy and unpracticed but not uncertain.]
no subject
He remembers her favorite- a cursed sleeper being awoken with a kiss. It seems so trite now that he's seventeen and has seen the horrors of the world, but there's a small part of him, the smallest piece, that can still believe in something like this. Not magic- he believes in magic easily, he's seen too much of it not to- but something else, something deeper and more desperate than that. The sort of thing that kills monsters with a single blow of a sword, the sort of thing that defies regular laws, that breaks curses and raises the dead.
Ronan doesn't think of his mother's fairy tales often. He doesn't know why it comes to him now.
But Adam moves. He moves and he breathes like he's alive again, and Ronan opens his eyes, incredulous- it worked, it worked, he doesn't know how or why, but something about his instinct was right. It doesn't set in quite yet that he kissed him, the moment was one born more out of desperation than it was actual rational thought, but when Adam kisses him this time, the realization of the moment hits him like a flood.
This isn't- he's startled now, and it's what he wants, it's what he's wanted for a long time, but somehow he wasn't expecting it. Not as a result of this, not right now, and the surprise ruins the moment entirely and causes Ronan to jerk back away from it, his fingers going tense on Adam's face before he pulls his hands back as well. Adam is alive. He saved him, Adam isn't going to die as a result of this stupid experiment, and Ronan is relieved, thankful, and completely overwhelmed because Adam just-
-he could have not known what he was doing. It could have been a Cabeswater thing somehow, to grant Ronan something he wants very badly but won't dare take. Adam just woke up from a trance, from being Cabeswater, it's not an incredulous thought to imagine the forest reaching through him to pull at Ronan's desires when they're this close.
He's staring, he realizes belatedly, with his mouth slightly open like he's going to say something but nothing has come out. Ronan drops his hands back to his sides and he's already berating himself for being so impulsive, being surprised enough to break the first kiss that Adam had ever initiated with him, to not even kiss him back- but his breath is caught in his throat and his face is a little flushed when he finally breaks the eye contact and looks away.]
...you stopped breathing, [he explains, his voice practically a breath itself. It's easier to talk when he's not looking directly at him, and Ronan eases back, moves the bowl of water from where he'd scrambled over it to get at Adam in the first place.]
Shit, you scared me.
no subject
For a moment, Adam is very, very still. He doesn't know what to think. It had been nearly instinct, almost an unconscious impulse, just him doing something he's wanted to do for so long. He thought that Ronan wanted that too, everything that Ronan has done has said so.
But that's not really true, is it? Ronan never tried to kiss him. Never once did more than the barest brush of lips against Adam's skin, not even enough to be considered a real kiss. Adam had thought it was because Ronan was giving him space, time to figure himself out, trying not to push him, but maybe that was never it at all. Maybe it was just that he didn't want to. Maybe Adam was seeing what he wanted to see, flattering himself.
And now Ronan can't even look at him. Adam feels cold, confused. Hurt. It was just expediency, it was just Ronan trying to wake him up. So what, then? He wants Adam, but he doesn't want to kiss him? Wasn't it the same for Blue, until she didn't even want him anymore?
It's like a sick joke, this happening again, and suddenly Adam is angry. It's not like before, with Blue, when he was already angry at everything and that was just the catalyst. This is something else. Ronan has been his friend, they've grown so close, Ronan saved him. Maybe that was it, maybe it was because Adam fell apart. Who would want him, after that? Ronan would want someone stronger than that, Adam guesses. Not something broken like him.
He doesn't know what's wrong with him, but it's not like he doesn't have a long list of things to choose from, an endless list of reasons why Ronan wouldn't want to kiss him. Really, wouldn't the more surprising thing be anyone wanting to kiss him at all?
Adam wants to smash something. He wants to throw the bowl of water at the wall, break it to pieces, demand Ronan tell him why this is happening again, what is so innately wrong about Adam Parrish that Blue wouldn't kiss him, that Ronan won't. He goes cold instead, because what else can he do?]
Gansey's fine. He's home. He's safe.
no subject
It wasn't a conscious movement. If given the choice, obviously he would have done something different. But he hasn't and now they're stuck like this, in Adam's coldness and Ronan's paralyzing indecision and guilt.
And then there's the news about Gansey. Ronan is careful not to react to that, though the knowledge of it somehow loosens up a tension that he'd been holding in his throat for the past month. He's safe- not dead, not somehow erased from existence, but home and safe, and Ronan misses him badly, but he can at least take solace in the fact that Gansey isn't currently being tortured on a weekly basis.
Which brings him back to Adam. The problem at hand. Ronan slowly lifts a hand as he thinks, running the pad of his thumb along his lower lip like he's subconsciously tracing the line of it, mulling over just how Adam had fit against him. Ronan is nothing if not blunt and direct, but only when it suits him- and while it suits him here, it's difficult to actually muster the words he wants to say, so when he drops his hand and shifts to get his feet under him and draw himself up properly, he does the next best thing.]
I didn't want to hurt you.
[He turns to look at Adam directly once he's standing fully, and Ronan's mouth is in a thin line, the arch of his brow severe. He's not angry, as much as it is that he was terrified a few moments ago, and now he's battling relief with guilt and frustration, and Adam is shutting down and shutting him out and so there's no reason for him not to do the same.]
Next time, we do this magical bullshit with someone who knows CPR.
no subject
And he's - angry about it, sure, but embarrassed too, ashamed to think that he had assumed once again someone wanted him like that. He should have learned the first time. Something like this shouldn't be the kind of lesson that he needs to learn twice. How stupid can one person be? He should have gotten more cautious since Blue, not less.
Now Ronan is angry too, or at least that's how he looks, the tense line of his body and the curve of his lips harsh, uncompromising. That just pisses Adam off more, because he doesn't think he made it all up, he doesn't think he imagined it - Ronan was the one who said he'd wait, that he wasn't gonna change his mind. And yeah, Adam shouldn't have assumed anything, but maybe Ronan should've found some way to - to -
Let him down easy.
But Adam knows Ronan doesn't owe that to him. He doesn't get up, only reaching out for the bowl of water. Ronan is about to walk away anyway, he can tell. It's happened plenty of times already.]
Don't worry. I won't ask you to do it again.
no subject
Because he kissed him. Because he kissed him instead of slapping him, because Adam kissed him back and Ronan got scared.
He hates that. Hates that his compassion started this, hates that his vulnerability ended it, hates that he lost some part of Adam's trust, that Adam took the initiative to try and Ronan had panicked. It all knots up in his chest and leaves him more frustrated than before. Adam isn't giving him the opportunity to explain, he's not opening up to talk about it, but neither is Ronan and what could he say? How could he fix this?
Maybe they just need to cool off. Maybe they just need to recover from their vulnerability and come back to this again, but- but honestly, Ronan isn't sure if that's even on the table or if Adam has shut him out for good after this, after everything. I won't ask you again.
They've been through too much to blow it on this, but if Adam wants to pull everything back, then Ronan isn't going to let himself get caught with his heart in the open. He wets his lips, opens his mouth to say fuck you, but stops himself and eventually just grits out a rough,] -fine.
[Ronan's toe catches on the pack of nails as he turns to leave and upends the package, sending them scattering across a small section of the floor. He doesn't stop to pick them up, and instead stomps over them on his way to his room.
The door slams behind him with a definitive bang.]