WHO: Ronan & Gansey WHAT: Insomniacs up at night WHEN: Like a week ago, a little before Thanksgiving (backdated) WHERE: The Barns WARNINGS: Heavy on the feels
Some days it was hard for Ronan to even get out of bed.
Admittedly, he could get a lot more done in bed than most people. He dreamed new plants for the Barns: glow in the dark mosses, flowers that whistled a melody when they opened to the sun, an herb garden of previously unknown flavors and scents (which made cooking quite the experiment). He dreamed of animals, too, but so far he had managed not to bring any of those back. He had given into that at home, but here, where they could all cease to exist if he went back through the portal or fall asleep if he lost his magic, it really didn’t feel right. And he was no closer to figuring out how to keep them alive without him.
Of course when he spent the day in bed, he was wide awake at night. The dark felt alive and electric, the opposite of how Ronan felt. He wandered numbly and aimlessly out into the herb garden and crouched down to pick a small purple flower. He lifted it to his nose and smelled it; it smelled vaguely like mint, a little like eucalyptus, and somehow neither of them at the same time.
He twirled it between his fingers, crushing it a little and releasing the scent (as well as a few sparks of light) as he wandered farther into the fields.
--
Carrying a towel over one shoulder, wearing his glasses, Gansey had started tiredly making his way across the grounds. As ever, there were new creations and wonders. He could smell the herb garden well enough to avoid trodding on the miraculous plants, on his way toward the lake. Some nights, even Blue’s presence wasn’t enough to drag his tired mind toward sleep.
It was too dark to see much of anything, but the Barns had its own sources of illumination, and Gansey could make out an indistinct shape that was most likely Ronan. Noah and Blue were in Monmouth, and Gansey hadn’t been aware of any recent humanoid shaped dreams sprouting from Ronan’s mind. He changed his path toward it, quietly tromping along in the darkness. They were in Texas, but it felt like Virginia or Ireland or both tied into one somewhere else. “Lynch,” he called as he came closer, close enough to brush shoulders. To be a physical presence there.
--
It was so quiet and still that it was impossible to miss the rustle of movement in the grass. Ronan thought at first it was his army of dreamed animals, even though they usually were asleep at this hour, but it was Gansey.
“Hey,” he said, nudging Gansey with his shoulder. He offered the half-crushed flower. “Whattaya think?”
He’d just made this one earlier, and the hints of mint in its scent made him think his friend would like it.
--
Gansey turned his gaze onto the flower Ronan held and gently accepted it. There was just enough light or just enough darkness that it looked purple and majestic, a tiny king of a blossom. And it smelled like mint and something more, perhaps when Helen had given him a new shampoo and conditioner. It ached like missing his older sister. Like somehow that scent tied them together. It was more than the shampoo, something only Ronan could make. And he felt deeply fond of it, immediately.
“Astounding,” Gansey declared in a whisper. He held it delicately, softly, cupping it toward his chest. “You never cease to amaze,” Gansey said, full and truly meant. It was one thing to pull something from one’s dreams. It was altogether something else what Ronan dreamt of. What he manifested into being.
--
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Ronan said with a hint of irony. But he was smiling, just a little. He loved how much Gansey loved his dream things, how amazed he was by magic. “There’s more of it. Maybe maggot could make it into a tea.”
--
“I cannot possibly imagine how Jane or her mother could make it taste anything but delightful,” Gansey agreed. It had been an experience to drink tea at 300 Fox Way. Blue had been recreating teas, as best she could, and no matter the goal for the tea, Gansey supported it fully. Ronan’s dreams held wonder inside them, emanating the surroundings with a feel of being in one of Ronan’s dreams. In a way, Gansey was literally his friends’ dreams shaped into something like him.
--
“I bet they could figure it out,” Ronan said, amused. He had not partaken of many of the teas at 300 Fox Way, but Blue had talked him into taste-testing hers, mainly because he was currently too depressed to care about drinking something that tasted and smelled like shit. Also because some of hers had been more interesting than disgusting.
He didn’t know what else to say, then -- or rather, he did, but he didn’t know if he could say it yet. He purposely walked through a patch of glow in the dark moss, which made it light up even more.
--
Hummed agreement came in reply. His friends were nothing if not miraculous. Still cupping the flower, Gansey followed Ronan, not quite in his steps. Gansey knew before further patches of moss lit up. Somehow it illuminated the feeling of guilt in Gansey’s stomach. It wasn’t rational, by any means, but Gansey had expected this, expected Declan’s departure, expected the effect it had on Ronan. Admittedly, his anxious watchfulness hadn’t thought to expect anything to happen to Bae. A price, perhaps, of general optimism.
Gansey hoped -- but no more than that -- that Ronan’s emotional wandering would take them past the lake. Not that Gansey felt any more in a state to leave Ronan to swim laps in it as best he could, the way he could calm his own mind. But quiet mid-night companionship was a familiar path for them. And wandering the Barns a comfortable activity. So he continued humming, turning toward Welsh tunes he had learned in his youth, ones possibly sung around the time of Glendower. If he didn’t think about it, so many of his habits related to a dead Welsh king.
--
Ronan found that he was in fact headed for the new swamp, where his dumb, idiotic, smelly, ugly turkeys had taken up residence. He had felt responsible for them because it had been insinuated they were here because he’d affected the portal, though in truth he probably would have taken them in anyway. Where else would dumb swamp turkeys go? And now he was fond of them, dumb smelly idiots that they were.
He had at least been able to make the swamp so that it absorbed the smell, so that the whole place didn’t reek of sulfur. Still, sometimes he got a whiff of it on his clothes where he’d touched one of the birds directly.
But the swamp was a ways from the house, farther than the lake, because Declan had complained about it, and so for awhile he just walked in silence listening to Gansey humming.
When there were just a few beats of silence, he said finally, “I know you want to travel with Blue.”
--
The silence continued. The dark night plummeted in Gansey’s belly like a stone. What had felt wondrous and incredible -- that short drive into Mexico and back, a matter of days when Declan was still here -- with Blue instead felt like a terrible abandonment. Like Gansey was saying Ronan wasn’t enough or wasn’t who or what Gansey wanted. Like his own wishes were betraying their friendship.
It hadn’t been a question. Not that Gansey could have lied about it. The yearning had been there before Blue had arrived, and Gansey had loved their adventures in Middle Earth, across every place the cruises took them. But Gansey had had enough of traveling on his own, on leaving everyone behind to fly or to drive to another location, after something else forgotten that wanted to be found. So he had felt fine with staying.
With Blue here… they had almost managed it as a group, going somewhere, anywhere. But Parrish had left. And now Declan and Baelfire. Gansey didn’t want to leave Ronan at a time like that. “I also want to be with you,” Gansey spoke softly. Not a contradiction. That lay in his heart. He could have asked Ronan to travel. But the lands around them spoke to why that wasn’t likely. So much of it needed Ronan. “I wish I could do both at once,” he said instead. It was also true. Even impossible as it was.
--
“I know.” Ronan hadn’t meant it as an accusation. He knew Gansey wanted to stay; he was staying, had been staying, even though he also wanted to leave. “I think you should go.”
He would miss Gansey, but Ronan had already decided he wasn’t going to be the person that kept people he loved around him at the expense of them giving up their dreams. He wasn’t keeping Adam from going to school, he wasn’t going to keep Gansey and Blue from traveling. “If you come back and stay sometimes, that’s kind of like doing both.”
--
For a moment, Gansey just stood there. It was hard to hear Ronan say that -- that Gansey should go, should leave him. When so many others had left. And they hadn’t even chosen to. He knew Ronan wasn’t leaving him, that it wasn’t like that. But it hadn’t been feeling right to leave Ronan, and Gansey had thought Declan would leave, and it felt wrong that he had expected it. Like expecting it had helped it come true. Not that Declan was that great with Ronan. But… it was someone else Ronan loved.
“I want to come back and stay sometimes,” Gansey said. “I don’t want to be gone for a whole year.” Not even if this place permitted him to travel that long. There would be a cruise or something else first. But more importantly, Gansey wanted to return to Ronan more than that. Traveling itself was something he liked to do physically. But coming and going, with the bracelet or something else… Gansey was good with that too. He liked being able to be here for Ronan immediately.
He stepped up more next to Ronan, simply being close. It harkened back to their early days looking for Glendower, even though neither of them was close to being the same person they had been.
--
“I know you do,” Ronan said. He stepped closer to Gansey in return, until they stood shoulder to shoulder. He stayed there for a long moment, quiet and introspective.
He knew he was hurting Gansey, but it came from a place of wanting the best for his friend. He debated how much of that he wanted to say out loud, and then just decided on all of it. He had nothing to lose, and he stood to make his friend happier. “If you want to be here, I want you to stay. But I don’t want you to give up on the other things you want to stay for me. Especially not just because things are shitty right now.” He shrugged. “Things are going to continue being shitty, probably. If you try to wait for the perfect time to leave when I’m happy it might never come.”
--
Gansey had wanted to travel to figure himself out. Even without traveling, this place had encouraged and entailed a fair amount of that anyway. That made him feel more at ease with himself, but the questions that had been on his mind before, the reason he had gone on the trip, hadn’t been answered. Not fully. Not for Blue either. It was part of figuring out the other things he wanted. And that had different answers here than back home.
“So long as you reach out when you need me here,” Gansey replied slowly, certain of the words. “There are different levels of crap things can get. When it’s deep enough, for you, I want to be here more than I want to be anywhere else.” He thought that would make it easier, he hoped, for Ronan to reach out. Just as Ronan was making it easier for him.
--
Ronan considered this. “Tell you what. I’ll dream you something that’ll have alert levels on it. Like… colors for fire danger.”
Code yellow, Ronan was depressed and missing him. (It was probably always going to be at least code yellow.) Code orange, Ronan was actively miserable but not immediately about to do something stupid. Code red, Ronan was self-destructive and at serious risk. “That way even if I’m going to be a shit and not reach out, you’ll know anyway.”
--
It was a very Ronan solution, and since Lynch proposed it and it would ensure nothing seriously bad happened, Gansey was okay with it. He would have been accepted less, but he couldn’t deny that it gave him some relief to be able to check it whenever he got worried. Gansey wouldn’t have to bother Ronan about it. “Okay,” Gansey said.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his airpods, putting one in his ear and one in Ronan’s. They connected to his phone, the only device in range. Gansey scrolled across it with ease and pressed play. His spine straightened in anticipation just before the loud thumps echoed throughout his body -- squash one, squash two.
--
It was really the only solution, because Ronan couldn’t promise he would always reach out and he didn’t want to lie. But he wanted Gansey to be able to go and not worry, and he also wanted Gansey to be here for him when he really needed him. He had been doing a lot better at not being self-destructive lately, even when he was miserable, which lately was always. But he had gotten to that point here before and he couldn’t guarantee that it wasn’t going to happen again. He couldn’t predict what the portal was going to throw at him.
But he could make something that would put the control in Gansey’s hands. Even when he was here at the Barns, he could know Ronan’s mood without having to ask. Anytime, anywhere.
It was a gesture that made him vulnerable. But his trust in and love for Gansey was bulletproof.
He didn’t know quite what to expect when Gansey stuck an airpod in his ear, but he recognized the murder squash song immediately. It struck an unexpected chord in him, as he realized that Gansey knew why Ronan constantly bugged him with this song and was returning the gesture. Ronan’s eyes stung, his heart ached, and he wanted to ask Gansey to never leave.
Instead he closed his eyes tightly and said, very hoarsely, “Fuck you, asshole.”
--
Gansey couldn’t help but smile. He stuck close, pressing his shoulder against Ronan’s as if the headphones were still connected by a wire. As much as the song wasn’t to Gansey’s taste in music, it was part and parcel with his friends. Ronan in particular. And he couldn’t help the place the song held even when its unexpected arrival made him jump.
He considered the swamp. It wasn’t swimming, but spending time with Ronan was another late night tradition. And it would be more rare, for a while, when Gansey traveled. “Are we checking on those peculiar birds?” he asked, ready to help.
--
That had been the plan, but now Ronan didn’t want to move out of this moment. Once he did, Gansey was going to leave. Not immediately, of course, but that was what it felt like. It was so hard to let go of the people he loved, to set them free to wander however far away from him they wanted. But he had to, in large part because they were all willing to stay for him.
“No,” he said. “We’re going to sit and listen to the whole goddamn song.”
Because that was the only way, in this moment, that he could say I love you, too.