Ronan got dressed in a rush on his way back in from the roof. Nothing fancy at four in the morning - or whatever fucking time it was - but at least he had sweats and a tshirt on when he snuck into his brother's room. His mind was a mess; every tangled thought led to another tangled thought, with no end in sight. Declan betrayed me played on autoloop. It was the worst background music ever. He thought seeing Matthew would help and it did, to some extent. Matthew was still here and seemed to be sleeping a normal sleep, not the barely breathing sleep of a dream without a dreamer.
The sight made Ronan hesitant to wake him. He chose instead to crawl up onto the bed next to Matthew and laid down, covering his face with the crook of his elbow. There was no chance he'd fall asleep here. And stress felt like it might bubble up out of him in tears. But he gritted his teeth and tried to will his emotions to fucking chill.
It was so hot. The suffocating kind of heat that made everything feel slow and sluggish, that added heavy weights to all of your limbs and even eyelids. Matthew was caught between sleeping and awake, aware he had been sleeping, aware he should wake up, but unable to actually do it. Matthew was tired, Matthew was hot, the surface to consciousness was so close but very far away.
He was so tired. When did he go to sleep? Something was wrong, he heard things that weren’t there, he might have been dreaming or awake, but he couldn’t interact with anything, it was all passing him by. He thought, fleetingly, of Aurora.
The feeling of the mattress dipping was enough of a surprise to pull Matthew awake, open his eyes into slits and squint against the grey dawn light. Matthew shoved his face into Ronan’s shoulder and rubbed his nose there. Confused. Awake.
“Where are we?” he mumbled, brow furrowing. “Where’d you go?”
Matthew’s voice in the quiet of pre-dawn was a shock and a comfort. Even being able to tell his brother wasn’t comatose, Ronan had needed the confirmation. What did he even really know just by looking anymore? If he’d proven anything in this fucking life, it was that he was blinded by self-delusion.
He reached over and patted a hand on Matthew’s curls, resting his cheek against his brother’s head. “We’re in your room. What do you mean where’d I go?” That question felt haunting. He wasn’t sure he really wanted an answer. “What’s the last thing you remember, Matty?”
“At home,” Matthew said slowly, as if testing out the idea and weighing it against something. “At the Barns. But where’s--” He cleared his throat of the disuse that came with sleep and pushed himself into a sitting position. Right. At the Barns, in Vallo. Where they had been for months--over a year, actually. Matthew hadn’t been in Boston with Declan and Jordan. He was here. Awake.
“I went to put myself in school. I decided to go because--because Declan stopped caring if I went. And he doesn’t--” Matthew’s throat clearing this time was an attempt to dislodge the ball of emotion that had suddenly, unexpectedly, rooted in his throat. He wasn’t sure of what he was going to say until he had almost said it. Matthew’s biggest fear, actualized, by the brother who had raised him. Because he had to.
“It was really warm? And I was so tired all of a sudden, and I was sitting in an office and then I just,” Matthew’s hands curled into fists. He could still do that. He could still feel that. All of this around him was real. “I fell asleep, Ro. Like--like Mom. I think. What happened?” He had so many questions, but they all circled back to that main one. What had gone so very wrong?
Ronan sat up and his scowl deepened with every word out of Matthew's mouth. What the fuck was going on with Declan? Maybe he'd been bodysnatched. That would be too easy, though. Ronan knew he just wished he had an outside reason for why his brother had handed him over to the enemy.
His thoughts screeched to a halt anyway when Matthew said I fell asleep, Ro.
"Fuck," he whispered. Worry etched a path across his face as he watched Matthew's profile. He pinched the bridge of his nose before he managed any other words. "Hennessy. She dreamt this...orb, to turn off the leyline. Or shit, I don't know. All ley energy? I tried to stop her, I tried to tell her she was dooming us all, but…" Ronan grimaced. "I'm sorry. I thought...I thought I could make shit better for us."
“You did? Whatever you were doing, it helped?” Matthew realized how his voice sounded then: uncertain of himself, his mind muddled with too many things all competing for attention. Maybe that was why Declan didn’t want to talk to him. Why he didn’t feel like he could, because Matthew was too dumb. And if Declan thought that, what else did he think? What did everyone else think?
Why does he treat you like you’re real? Because I am real.
He tried again, forcing down the sudden urge to curl up under the blankets. No. He was going to have the conversation because he could. Even though Matthew hadn’t fully grasped what was going on--a fact not helped by Declan’s secrecy, he saw that now--he could try. Would try. “Jordan and I talked about it, and the wandering is because of the ley lines. So what you were doing was making them stronger, and was making us stronger too. And when they weren’t strong, we weren’t.”
Matthew bit his tongue. Still there. He rubbed his head against Ronan’s like he always did when seeking comfort and assurance. Still there. “I missed you. I felt like--you were so far away, Ro. I couldn’t talk to you.”
There was undeniably some comfort in hearing what they’d done so far had helped dreams, even if Ronan knew everything was a big fucking mess. He couldn’t pretend he wasn’t a big part of the reason for how things went to shit either. A part of him had wanted to make a mess. To make sure the world knew he was there. To make sure when he did die, he went out on his own goddamn terms. Putting up a fight. Not fading away alone on the farm while everyone forgot about him.
“I missed you too, Matty.” Ronan knocked his head lightly against Matthew’s, trying to smother his anxiety with this little bit of normalcy. “I thought the safest place for you to be was with Declan.” He scoffed at that. Hurt ricocheted through his chest. “I thought I had a good plan and we’d take the fight to the mods and you’d be able to live your life without being tied to me. But Declan fucking gave me up and Hennessy turned on me and I…”
He was rambling, he knew that. It was a lot to throw at Matthew at once but he’d promised not to keep shit from his brother anymore. “I dreamt Bryde, Matthew."
“Wait.” Matthew frowned, an odd expression on his face. Curiosity and confusion, sure, but an actual frown was much, much rarer. “What happened with Declan? He said he talked to you and then he went off on another one of his secret errands he didn’t want to tell me about.” Because Declan only did things like point out dogs to Matthew, or tell Matthew a joke he thought he’d like. And the unfortunate thing was, Matthew liked dogs and jokes! But he also found he liked talking with Jordan about the sweetmetals, he had liked the thought of going to school. He liked being real and being thought of as real, not as the pet that Declan liked to have around but who was ultimately an afterthought to all of the things Declan really wanted to do.
The frown deepened and for a moment, Matthew looked...wounded, by the reveal. “You dreamed up Bryde? The guy you were traveling around with? But, why?” For a moment, for a very terrible moment, Matthew felt the deep stab of jealousy. That Ronan had dreamed up someone else and this someone else went on an adventure with Ronan. He rubbed at his heart, which hurt. He knew there was something not right about Bryde, he heard it in the bits and pieces that Declan said to Jordan when he thought Matthew was distracted by a game on his phone (like a puppy with a new bone, his mind supplied, angrily). But Matthew could piece together enough of the puzzle to get enough of a picture. Declan didn’t like Bryde, but Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why. And Ronan wasn’t talking to them. No one was telling Matthew anything.
“He told me I should see you and I fucking agreed.” Ronan didn’t admit he’d agreed because he’d been worried it was all going to go very wrong with the dam. He didn’t admit he’d felt like he was slipping somewhere dark. He just scowled stubbornly. “He set up a meet. When we got there, a woman jumped out of a fucking fountain with Hennessy’s sword and went after Bryde. Other mods attacked, it was a big fucking mess. Hennessy stayed back. I think—I think she was giving up.”
He pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Everything about this sucked so much but that wounded look on Matthew was a special kind of injury. Ronan dropped his hands away and draped his arms over his raised knees, resting his chin on his arm to look over at Matthew. His expression was vulnerable and apologetic, even if his words were still underlined in defensiveness. “I didn’t know about Bryde. Apparently that’s my real power. Dreaming people and convincing myself it never happened. I think I just wanted someone who knew how I felt. Someone who…I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
“I didn’t know, Ronan,” Matthew said, as seriously as he’d ever said anything. “Ro, that whole time? I didn’t know what was going on, but I wouldn’t have let Declan do that if I had known.” But he hadn’t. A part of that fell on Matthew, he knew, he should have asked questions, should have pushed the issue more, should have insisted the Lynch brothers work together instead of letting themselves be pushed farther and farther apart. Should have demonstrated his real-ness, instead of deciding it just when it was too late.
It felt like Matthew had come so far. He chose to go back to school in Vallo, he was trying to express himself more and be okay with uncomfortable feelings, he was figuring out what he wanted in life not because he was a dream thing, but because he was done with high school now and that was what young adults did. Now, however, all of the hurt and pain was like a reopened wound, one Matthew thought had healed over fairly nicely.
He scooted over and wrapped both arms around Ronan, nose once again pressed into his shirt. “I’m sorry you felt so alone. I’m sorry I didn’t help. You’re my brother, and you needed me. I’m sorry.” They were all simple statements, but earnest, honest, and straight from Matthew’s too soft heart. Wordplay and spinning words into intricate spells had never been Matthew’s forte. And sometimes? The most important things were best kept simple.
Matthew knew it was childish, but he wished for something like a blanket fort just then, or that they were hiding in the trunk of Niall’s dream tree again. Somewhere that felt safe and secure and like they could whisper secrets to each other and it would all be okay. “I’m scared that Declan resents me. Because if he wasn’t stuck with me, he could live in Boston, or wherever and do all the things he wanted to do, instead of staying in Virginia like we did. I didn’t see it before, but I think I do now? He gave up a lot when Dad died. I might resent me, too.” Matthew hadn’t wanted to voice the heaviness in his heart, but it felt too large to carry by himself just then.
It was hard sometimes, for the Ronan at home to remember Matthew was nearly an adult. He was an innocent in Ronan's mind. Someone to be protected. But the Ronan of Vallo had watched his brother grow and start to seek out a life of his own. The feelings warred with each other, but neither appreciated Matthew feeling guilty about Declan's choices.
"Hey," he grunted, wrapping an arm around Matthew's shoulders. "Declan has been keeping secrets his whole life. That's not on you. We should've--I should've brought you in more." He should've brought a lot of people in more but he wasn't magnanimous enough to admit that. "And maybe Declan does resent you. I know he fucking resents me. But that doesn't make it right. It's not your fault he got shoved into a parent role. It's not mine either." He hugged Matthew's head and exhaled, trying to settle the anger in his chest. "Are you okay? I know that's a dumb fucking question but I have to ask."
Matthew was silent for a while, although he leaned into the hug to indicate that he’d heard. He wanted to sit with the words and truly reflect on what he felt, instead of automatically responding with what might have been expected from him. They were all young when Niall was murdered and Aurora fell asleep and they weren’t able to live in the home they grew up in. It hadn’t been fair to Declan that he had to step in when there was no one else. It hadn’t been fair to Ronan that he had never been taught how to use his dreams. It hadn’t been fair to Matthew that had been kept in the dark about his origins. All of those things were true, and none of them were more important than the other.
It was also true that Declan had done the best he could taking care of his brothers, and deserved the chance to live the life he wanted. It was also true that Roann created beautiful things, and worked hard to not make the same mistakes as their dad. It was also true that Matthew felt a little more real with every passing day and knew he only needed to prove that realness to himself.
“I think I’m sad,” Matthew said, finally. “Because I was worried about you, and Declan doesn’t think I’m real, and I fell asleep and no one knows. And even though all of that happened, I don’t want it to happen here. So I think I’m a little afraid, too.” He looked out the window at the early morning light starting to peep through. “Yeah. Sad and scared.”
The worry in Ronan's gut twisted like a knife. He kept one arm around his brother and it tightened at the words sad and scared. "That's...that's more than fucking fair. I'm sad and scared too."
There wasn't an easy fix for this. Every thought led somewhere dark and all Ronan wanted to do was scrub their brains of these memories. But he did have one thing. One light in the tunnel and he clung to it stubbornly. "We know about sweetmetals now. We can work with that. Without you having to tell anybody anything until you're ready. We'll figure out a way to make one and we'll make sure that shit doesn't happen here."
Matthew nodded, accompanied by one shaky inhale and exhale. “Right. Right.” The second one sounded and felt a little stronger, at least. There was an answer, at least, which was more than they had before. There were also a lot of questions surrounding the sweetmetals: their potency and longevity and how to make them. But still. There was an answer, which was more than they had before. And Matthew knew that if--when, he wanted to ask for help, there would be people who would respond. If not for him, then for the rest of the Gangsey. That was a good feeling. So, sad, scared, but a little hope. He’d take it.
He knocked his head against Ronan’s. “Hey, I love you. You okay? You want to go back to sleep? Or something’s open now, we could get breakfast? Not turds though,” he added, mouth twitching in a smile that wanted very much to succeed on its way up. “Maybe for post-breakfast snack.”
"Love you too." Ronan knocked his head right back before scowling at the thought of sleep. There was likely going to be very fucking little of that in the next few days. Weeks. Fuck, he didn't know. He gave his brother an affectionate shove and rolled out of bed to head for the door. He needed shoes. And probably his phone as much as he'd rather just fuck off without it.
His new memories added a suspenseful lens to the shit that happened when he ditched his phone.
"Let's go grab some donuts. I need to get out of the house."