He had no fucking clue what lugubrious meant, but he did know one thing.
WHAT: Minor breakdown in returning Henry’s car to the Barns. WHERE: Monmouth parking lot. WHEN: After Church, November 22nd WARNINGS: SADNESS everyone is SAD STATUS:Complete!
Tears had been pricking the back of his eyes on and off over the last week. The tightness in Gansey’s chest had lessened a little, and then clamped right back every time he walked in a room or did something that reminded him of Henry. It felt ridiculous - he had to remind himself a dozen times, a hundred times that Henry was back home, as if nothing had happened - but there he was, silently chanting that to himself as he stood staring at Henry’s car.
He had Ronan and Adam at his back, which was a solid foundation for his thoughts to fall back on. They didn’t - couldn’t - ease the tightness, but that was okay. That wasn’t their burden to shoulder.
Gansey had been here a month before Blue and Henry had arrived, a month, but it was in the early days, when all of Vallo was new and didn’t actually feel like home.
Now it was home, and now home was missing a piece of it. He couldn’t bring himself to have the wish that Vallo would take Henry’s things from him, because he knew someday that Henry could return, or they would want that memory of him here.
Right now, the memory hurt, and he sucked in a shaky breath before finally holding out Henry’s keys to Adam. In his head, it made sense to pick the steadier of his best friends with a car that his own boyfriend was constantly scared to drive. “Would you, please?”
Everything felt exponentially fragile to Adam. The heavy metal keys that Gansey offered up, the sports car in front of them, the air between the three of them. The last few days since Henry's unexpected disappearance was a lesson in gentle care—Adam knew that Gansey was prone to panic attacks and anxiety spirals, stressing out because he felt things so much, but this kind of loss was different. This was a version of Gansey that Adam had no idea how to handle, and he was making it up as he went along.
It was difficult when there was residual feedback, like an echo, in his head from Cabeswater. The forest had wanted to do more for the piece of itself wedged inside Gansey's chest, and Adam was attempting to navigate this new sort of grief for both of them. Adam wanted to make it rain, just so there was something tangible to relate these feelings to.
Getting the car was a good first step, but once they were standing here, staring at the vehicle, Adam regretted bringing Gansey along. He took the keys anyway. "Yeah, I can," Adam said, moving efficiently to unlock it and immediately popped the hood. The last thing he needed was the car not starting like some painfully ironic fuck you from the world.
As he stood over the engine, he shot a worried glance to Ronan, then a less worried one to Gansey. "Are you sure you want me to drive?" The real question was: are you sure you want me to touch something of Henry's first? Adam tried for light humor instead. "Ronan is going to hate sitting in the back."
Sad Gansey was Ronan’s fucking kryptonite. It had always been Gansey holding Ronan together through his grief, not the other way around. But he was trying his best. Of course, his best mostly consisted of hovering, particularly when he’d find Gansey having a sleepless night and would sit on the kitchen counter while Gansey cooked or take the opposite side of the sofa and shove his feet into Gansey’s lap while he read.
Blue got her own version of lurking thug, it just had more axes involved.
“Hey,” he said, coming around to Gansey’s side of the car and knocking into his shoulder. “Maybe Gansey and I are going to sit in the back and make you play uber driver.” He had no intention of doing any such thing, even if he wanted to glue himself to Gansey’s side like a damn octopus. In fact, he made himself come around to the front of the car to peer uselessly under the hood. “What do you know,” he deadpanned. “It’s an engine.”
It took Gansey a second to follow, his reflexes dulled slightly by the weight of his thoughts. It wouldn’t have been surprising to any of his friends to find that he was thinking too hard and too much about this and what it might mean for the future, so he spared them the truth.
He was thankful to have what he had, though, these people in his life that loved and cared for him and openly showing it, a feeling that Gansey had taken a long road to get used to.
“Is it okay?” He asked, finally following and looking through their shoulders and down into the hood of the car. “We usually, um-- take the Pig everywhere, so this doesn’t get much road time.” He was sure he wanted Adam to drive, and he was sure he wanted Ronan to stay close, but verbally vomiting that everywhere was more difficult than it was to keep the topic to the engine in front of them. He liked the mindset of cars, puzzles of them that kept his brain from wandering too far.
Adam probably would have said you and Gansey can walk back home then, but that was not the point of being here. They needed to get Henry's car back to the Barns. Adam felt like a trespasser as he shoved hand into machinery under the hood to check valves and search for loose wires. Even barely used Fiskers could depreciate just sitting.
"A whole engine, imagine that," Adam said to Ronan, his expression a little smug, a little teasing, but it was short lived as Gansey asked a question over their shoulders. Adam swallowed, and nodded as he gave Gansey space to peer inside. "It's okay. You'll probably have to go out every now and then to run the car for a couple of minutes so the weather doesn't brick the battery. And I can flush the system at Boyd's. Oil change, brake fluid, whatever."
Every word Adam selected was carefully chosen—talking about time was difficult, mentioning months ahead with no certainty that they would all still be here was dangerous. Like pushing on a fresh bruise to see if it really did hurt or if you could handle it. Adam didn't want Gansey to handle it yet, there wasn't a rush to.
"If you're both going to sit in the back, comments about my driving have to be kept to a minimum."
Ronan smirked at Adam’s snarky response, his gaze lingering until Gansey was between them. He didn’t know shit about cars and they both knew it. But then, he didn’t need to know. He’d landed an all-star mechanic for a boyfriend. He kept his focus on Gansey instead of the car.
“I put a good car tarp in the barn. It’ll keep it from getting scratched up.” He thought about offering to drive the Fisker around every once in a while but it didn’t feel right. Not when he’d been an asshole about wanting to drive the car better than Cheng ever did. “Come on, Dick. Get your ass in the car. I’ll go in the back. I wanna be able to talk shit.” Ronan nudged Gansey towards the passenger side, pinching Adam in the ribs as he passed.
“I trust you to know what’s best,” He gave Adam a reassuring nod, confident in his best friend’s mechanic abilities. Ronan made him smirk, just a little, though, as he started to get in the Fisker. Gansey knew he was milking this for all it was worth unintentionally when Ronan offered to jump in the back. He felt a pang of guilt over it, even if he knew it was good for Ronan to take that spot occasionally. Seldomly.
He put a hand on Adam’s back and leaned in, voice low but just loud enough that he knew Ronan would hear. “Just take it easy and go slow, the Fisker is a lot more power under you than you’ve ever handled before.”
It wasn’t the first joke he’d made in the last few days, but they were fewer and more far between with his bouts of self-pity. Gansey felt bad about that too, but this one made him flick a small smug look at Ronan’s direction before making his way to the passenger side door. He tried not to falter or pause, confidence was key even if it was fake confidence.
For a moment, Adam could believe everything was fine. Ronan with his casual affection as he slid into the car. Gansey making a joke, an actual joke, about cars at the expense of Ronan with a smug look. Adam couldn't help but smile, hopeful that maybe it was the collection of Henry's things that would smooth over the restless sadness that was plaguing Gansey all week.
Adam just shook his head, closed the hood, and yanked open the driver's side door. The seat was too far forward; Adam, who wasn't the tallest by any means, would have had a hard time cramming his legs in to find the pedals. Without thinking, he awkwardly climbed into the car, adjusting the seat, the rearview mirror, all the mirrors, the height of the steering wheel. Even inside Henry's own car, Adam started to erase little pieces of his existence. It felt wrong.
And Gansey wasn't in the passenger seat. His hand drifted back careful to squeeze Ronan's knee, as if to say look. Adam tilted his head to the side and reached across to open the passenger side door for him. A gesture he had often did when riding shotgun in everyone else's car. "You ready to go?"
Ronan snorted. He was pleased that Gansey was joking, even if it was at his expense. Any other day and he’d have said something explicit about the power Parrish had under him but not today. His face flushed red anyway as he stretched between the seats to mess with the stereo.
“You’re banned from talking about power until the Pig starts ten times in a row,” he called out through Gansey’s open door. The Fisker had an obnoxious digital display that screamed ‘this cost a fuckton of money’ and Ronan couldn’t help but glance sideways at Adam. He lowered his voice to a whisper while they waited for Gansey to climb inside. “The Madonna odds are pretty fucking high but I can’t turn this thing off until you start the car.”
Gansey was thankful for Adam opening the door, because without the nudge, he might not have done it himself. It almost would’ve been easier for the car to have disappeared at the same time, but that’s a thought he would’ve regretted later, when things were less raw. Gansey knew first hand that just because things were out of sight, did not make them out of mind.
He slid into the seat that was already adjusted for him. When he’d last driven in this car, Blue had climbed into the seat with him - against his better judgement and what was strictly legal which Gansey had only pointed out briefly before shutting up - and perched on his lap while they’d gone along the coast, Madonna blaring on the radio.
Unless Henry returned, it would be different now. Gansey’s venn diagram of social circles overlapped with his two primary trios, Gansey in the middle. Adam, Ronan and Gansey’s circle had been the longest lasting and most fully formed in his life, just barely overlapped with the group as a whole when Noah had entered the fray and Blue had slid her way in. Henry had been unexpected, but fit into Gansey and Blue’s life almost effortlessly.
Gansey blew out a breath. “Ten times is asking for a lot, and frankly, I think it’s a little unfair.” His seat belt snapped into place and he nodded to Adam. “Ready.”
Adam mumbled something like I know or I got it, afraid that it might look too obvious that Ronan was primed to change the radio station the moment Adam turned the engine over. Which meant that he had to distract Gansey as he multitasked and they worked in unison to keep everything low-key. Well, as low-key as they could make it sitting inside Gansey's vanished boyfriend's car.
He turned the key, while saying, "It is unfair. Half that at least. Gansey's been great at maintaining the Pig more than I have." It was the truth, and a little praise wedged in there, maybe enough to distract from the radio. As the engine roared, it drowned everything out for a second, including the first few notes of Ray of Light by Madonna that filtered through the speakers. But that was squashed immediately, with the abrupt-station change.
Adam was quick to keep moving, pull the car out of park, reverse, spin the wheel as smoothly as possible. It felt paramount to take care with everything he did with the Fisker. He regretted saying yes to driving, the pressure was mounting unnecessarily. He let the car idle before they moved out of the parking lot, taking a moment to catch Ronan's eye in the rearview mirror. Help, he seemed to say.
"Is there anywhere we want to go before home?" Adam asked. Gansey was out of the house, maybe they could supplement the whole ordeal with a nicer memory.
The Fisker’s fancy display was stupid as far as Ronan was concerned. He had to frantically jam at the lit up squares to switch the music over to radio and he turned the sound up a notch before he succeeded. He pulled back between the seats with a grunt. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in the back seat of a car with Gansey and Adam in the front. It was the first time he’d been jammed into the tiny backseat of the Fisker though.
“Wherever we’re going, we can’t stay long. I’m folded up like a fucking pretzel back here.” He leaned back in to prop himself up on their shoulders. “We should get food though.” He tapped the side of Gansey’s face obnoxiously. “What was the last thing you ate?”
Oh. It registered, 30 seconds later, that people were talking to him. That Ronan patted his face. That their words were there, floating towards him. But the white noise had surrounded Gansey at the same time Ray of Light started playing, and it was like every nerve ending in his body went on high alert.
He knew it. He should’ve expected it. He’d known that Madonna was playing when they’d last driven it, and it made sense. But somehow actually being smacked in the face with it hit even harder than Ronan’s gentle taps.
Then it was gone, and Gansey was lost. Somehow that was worse, even if he knew his friends were helping, that it was cut off and gone.
Just like Henry was.
Gansey registered that he was being asked questions, but when he opened his mouth to reply sensibly, all that came out was a shuddering breath, and he felt the tears hit his cheeks before he even realized they were coming from him. “Sorry- I have to-- I need a second--” Each sentence was cut off before it fully ended, and in a flash his seatbelt was undone and the door was open again, as Gansey stumbled right back out.
Adam felt it before he saw it. That gut-punch of emotion, like touching a live wire—Adam had the luxury of pulling his metaphorical hand away from the socket, but Gansey was not as lucky. That sadness was overwhelming thanks to Cabeswater thrumming between the two of them. If Adam could experience a hair's breadth of it in a split second, allowing Gansey to sit with it, to get out of the car and walk away with it all bundled inside of him, Adam worried there would be no coming back.
He shot a panicked look at Ronan, before swearing shit shit shit, throwing the car into park, and ripping off his own seat belt in that frantic way that made everything feel ten times longer to do. But Adam flung open the door, as he scrambled after Gansey, knowing with certainty that Ronan would be behind him.
It was hypocritical for Adam to demand physical contact from Gansey when he would have shrugged it away, even gotten angry with the tangible empathy from other people (Pity, he always claimed it was pity, even when it wasn't, it was care and love.) But Gansey was not Adam, and it had taken them a long time to get to this point—which was Adam's hand on Gansey's shoulder to stop him, his voice low saying, "Gansey, wait, please", his eyes searching his best friends face for something or to be something for Gansey to cling to, and not drift away in his grief.
This was Adam's care and love holding fast to Gansey so he couldn't walk away. "We're here for you. Talk to us." He wanted to say it would be okay, but that felt short-sighted, not enough.
Ronan didn’t have the same psychic link to Gansey’s emotions but he didn’t need it; he had his finger on Gansey’s cheek when a tear slipped down it. He’d have known the second the air seemed to leave the car though, even if he hadn’t. He’d been reading Gansey’s emotions for longer than he’d figured out his own and his own were a tangled mess watching his best friend flee the car.
Following him was a bit of a joke, however. All six feet of Ronan Lynch had barely fit in the back, let alone through the space between the seats. Somehow he managed to tumble out the passenger door but he cursed when he cracked his head along the way.
“You don’t gotta run and be sad somewhere else, Gansey.” Ronan staggered up on Gansey’s other side and added to the solid grip on him by curling a hand around the back of his neck. “Just let that shit out.”
Gansey could have lied and said he wasn’t running away. But it wasn’t the truth and Ronan liked the truth. The truth was more that he wasn’t running from them so much as he was running away from himself. Running away from the anxiety that was hitting him with overwhelming force and speed and hoping that fresh air would solve everything.
It didn’t, but what helped was Adam and Ronan’s solid forms, giving him something tangible to focus on. He wasn’t sure who had a hand on his neck and who had a hand on his shoulder but he was sure he could lean into them both and they’d allow it. “I’m sorry,” his tears weren’t overwhelming sobs, just simple but angry things that he pushed away with an annoyed pass of his hand. In the same swipe, Gansey pulled off his glasses. “I know it’s ridiculous- that he’s just home and this happens all of the time here. But--”
But what? He’d gotten comfortable, they’d all gone through a great deal here, including and up to the point of actually having peace in the house he’d first been worried to bring Henry into as far as living. That kind of comfort and familial joy wasn’t one that was easy to replicate. “It’s just made me lugubrious and I’m not sure how to fix it.”
Adam exchanged a look with Ronan as Gansey spoke. It was one that was full of worry and concern, a part deep inside of him wondered if they had ever felt the same helplessness with him. Just a loop of wanting to do more and only being able to offer their steady presence. He hated though that Gansey, through some learned behavior, felt the need to apologize for his feelings. Adam squeezed his shoulder.
"It's not ridiculous," Adam reaffirmed. He felt that was important to clarify first, that none of this was ridiculous. Gansey's sadness manifested in a different way than Adam's would, or even Ronan's, but feeling them wasn't something to be ashamed about. "No one is telling you that you can't be sad, that you have to just keep moving on immediately." He thought about Harvard, he thought about his crushed dreams that had been reformed in another universe. Was that the only way it was going to work?
He shook it off, and continued. "We may have been comfortable here because we made it that way, but that doesn't mean anything bad that happens is supposed to be okay. So you can be lugubrious—" Adam said, his fingers joining Gansey's to wipe away his tears. "But you can't fix it by trying to ignore that you're feeling that way because you feel like you're not supposed to. I think we've all figured out that that doesn't work, and never did."
Meeting Adam’s glance behind Gansey’s head was easy. Knowing what to do after, not so much. Ronan grimaced. He had no fucking clue what lugubrious meant, but he did know one thing.
“You can’t fix this at all, Gans.” Henry may not have been gone gone, but the feeling of loss was still one Ronan knew well. “This shitty feeling is just a part of you now and it’s going to kick your ass for a while.” It wasn’t as eloquent as what Adam said. It did come with a half-hug, though, and Ronan taking Gansey’s glasses from him to clean them on the hem of Gansey’s own shirt. “It’s okay to let it. You don’t have to have your shit together all the time. We can carry some of it.”
Gansey owed a lot to his friends. His joy, his laughter, his sanity, his life. All of it could be traced back to this group of people so good to him.
When something like this happened, it was hard to believe there was a point in time where Gansey doubted their loyalty. Frankly, it was appalling, and Gansey felt a little sick to his stomach as he watched (with blurry vision) Ronan clean his glasses and he felt Adam’s hand on his cheek.
If this whole ordeal was a fraction of what would happen if one of them went home too, Gansey wanted no part of it. But he sucked in a breath, calmer now than he was minutes before. The tension was slowly draining from his shoulders as he leaned against Ronan and kept ahold of Adam’s fingers. “Jane is going to kick my ass if I don’t start sleeping in our bed again soon.” And he wouldn’t blame her. “That’s a worse threat than my feelings doing it, I think.”
Ronan was right, and Adam was nodding fervent in agreement. Adam may have been eloquent in his words, but Ronan's held a blunt, emotional honesty that Adam often lacked. It was not the same as the truth, but Adam knew both of them echoing each other like a supportive sound chamber was the only way any of this was going to get through to Gansey. He gave Ronan another sidelong glance, one that said how thankful he was to have someone like him, his gaze filled with unflappable adoration.
The shift in Gansey's demeanor didn't require anything else than being friends with him. Not an acute psychic ability or a link through a sentient forest. Just time, together. So when he grabbed Adam's hand as the tension eased, Adam didn't move. He let Gansey take the lead on what he wanted—comfort and contact.
"I would be more concerned about her stabbing you, but sentiment is the same," Adam teased softly back, hoping to keep this upward emotional swing. Adam reached for Ronan, connecting the tightly knit circle they made. Three was a good number. Adam wanted Gansey to know he would always have that, in any iteration. "You're stronger than you realize, Gansey. Your feelings might kick your ass, but we won't let them keep you down, all right?"
The reason behind this sucked, sure, but Ronan couldn’t help the warm feeling in his chest. It burned a little too fiercely and he had to rub a hand over Adam’s face in a shithead way to get it to settle.
“What Parrish said.” He gave Gansey a nudge of his shoulder before he handed his glasses back to him. “Except I’m pretty sure Sargent knows you can’t control your insomnia when you’re upset and she isn’t a big enough dick to punish you for it. That’s my job,” he joked. His gaze shifted over to the car but he wasn’t in any mood to rush Gansey. He looked up at Monmouth instead.
“We could just hang here for a bit.” He lifted one dark eyebrow, a smirk twitching at his mouth. “Make some tea.”
Gansey had to clear his throat once, maybe twice, before words would really come out again. They’d gotten all caught up in his throat with the push of feelings, and he leaned heavily into the hug without making it a thing. He knew Ronan would appreciate it more if it wasn’t a thing.
“Love you guys,” so much for not making it a thing. He didn’t feel sorry though, and busied himself with putting his glasses back on and trying to nod away any more tears before they appeared. Crying just made his head hurt and emotionally drained, even if he had to admit it felt better now that he’d gotten some of it out. Less like he had to keep his shoulders high just so he didn’t look as if he was cracking.
Gansey followed Ronan’s gaze to Monmouth and a small smile popped up at the corner of his mouth. “Vanya might even have put in a proper tea kettle now too. We can hang out in my office, there’s no school today?” In short, he was a little relieved at the thought of not getting back in the car just yet, and he glanced at Adam for confirmation.
"Love you too, Gansey," Adam said, without hesitation. The truth was easier to say when his whole body was unable to deny it. He loved Gansey, he was his best friend, and his existence had come because Adam told an old forest to give up its life—and ultimately Adam's singular individualism—because he cared for Gansey more than himself. There was nothing that Adam wouldn't do for Gansey. That thought, much like his unconditional love for Ronan, was dangerous when put to task.
Adam's hand dropped from Gansey's cheek, as he glanced up to Monmouth. In any other place, in any other time, the view was familiar. Adam could swear they had been like this before, or maybe he dreamt it. Maybe he wanted it too much and formed it into a memory. In it, they were okay. Gansey would be okay.
He offered them both a soft smile, and nodded. "Yeah, I could go for some tea."
Ronan inhaled dramatically towards the sky and then shoved between them to loop his long arms around their necks. “I love you dipshits too. Now can we please get off the street?” He dragged them towards the entrance, glancing back over his shoulder as they went. “I’m pretty sure the dude with antlers across the street wants us to sign his petition.”