WHAT: Blue and Gansey have their reunion after the arrival battle. It's been a hard 6 years WHERE: Blue's room, The Outpost WHEN: After the arrival battle, 2033 WARNINGS: Death talk, some injury talk, general future sads STATUS: Complete
Blue knew this was a bad idea. She had been screaming it internally when the surprise attack at Sutton Cottage came after Caleb and Essek landed back in 2033 with the group. She had continued screaming it when she let out a magically shockwave of dampening energy to give a few other—but namely Gansey—a moment to get away. And though she wasn't screaming it, her subconscious was still making frustrated noises as she stomped back through the forest toward the Outpost, clinging protectively to Gansey's arm and dragging him along.
She had barely looked at him, because Blue wasn't sure if she could take that expression of amazed wonder in his eye, or the possibility of a panic attack at what he had thrown himself into. She couldn't bear to wonder if he had regret, or if it was just the earnest excitement of someone who was heroic in the name of history. She couldn't look at him because he was so, so alive and Blue didn't know if she could keep it together.
This had been what she was afraid of. The grief that had been tangled up inside her for years was threatening to overwhelm her.
It wasn't until they were back, safe inside the Outpost, tucked away in Blue's little corner that was barely a room, that she drank him in. He was young, and wonderful, and everything she missed with a deep, unrelenting pain. The anger at the unfairness of the Vallo they lived in now was easier to cope with than this.
"Sit," Blue said, sharp and emotionless, as she directed him toward her twin mattress—because why, why did she need anything bigger when there was no one else to share it with? Digging around in a crate, she pulled out a tiny first aid kit. It had been Gansey's, restocked several times since his death, but still his.
Blue came right up into his space and started to clean the small cut at his temple with her meager supplies. The injury was barely life threatening, but any close call made sickness curdle in her gut. She was quiet for so long before she finally asked, "We had the toga party, right? I remember the toga party in 2023."
They’d been warned about all of this. Gansey was grateful for that, because it allowed him to go into this prepared - they’d explained the attacks on magically centralized locations, and he’d packed his sword to go with everything else. They’d explained thralls, and he went in prepared. Gansey remembered the last time they’d dealt with all of this but--
It still knocked the air out of his chest when they’d landed. He knew Sutton Cottage, spent some of his free time with Edwin, browsing his library and talking magical theories. This was different. Everything was bleak.
Blue still could still knock him off his feet with just a look, though, that hadn’t changed. He followed her without question, without complaint, and took in everything as they made their way to her modest room. He took time and care to rest his backpack and sword gently against the small table nearby before he followed her orders. And oh, he did - Gansey knew better than to poke the bear that was Blue Sargent when she was annoyed, even when the wound was paltry at best.
“What? Oh, sorry- Yes.” His eyes picked up on a journal sitting nearby, and that caught his attention enough that he zoned out for a moment. Realization sunk into his stomach that it had likely belonged to him in the future. “Toga party was just two weeks ago, and you look just as good in thigh holsters as you do a plain white sheet, might I add?”
Blue's attention was on this miniscule cut. It was easier to focus on gentle medical care—she was already pressing a bandaid over it, and just like that, Gansey was fine again—then look him in the eye. She could make really general conversation, dip her toes into the things that were warm and familiar until she felt too overwhelmed. Blue only had a few days to get used to the thought that her boyfriend, her soulmate, her almost-fiancé, would be coming back. And maybe even be aware of his fate. Blue didn't know if she could recount it again if pressed, but she couldn't chicken out now.
"Gansey, look—" She cut herself off, not just because saying his name was suddenly difficult but was he complimenting her? Blue's brows furrowed, and then she glanced down at herself, then back to him. In all of the worrying for the time travelers, the Temporal Concurrence, and the future of this world, it hadn't occurred to Blue that she would look different to him.
"The thigh holsters are practical," she explained, a little dumbfounded. Gansey was throwing her off. But hadn't he always? A disruptor in all things Blue Sargent, for better or for worse.
She took a step back just to give him space. Every part of her wanted to hold him, wanted to protect him, wanted to shove him back through the portal he had come from or make Caleb and Essek return him to the safety of the past. Blue didn't know if she could be that for him here, despite proving herself for years. Self-doubt crowded her mind.
"I don't—I don't know what to say to you," Blue admitted, her hard exterior cracking. She had cried herself to sleep too many times, begging for another moment to spend with Gansey and tell him everything she felt. Now she had it and Blue ran out of words. "It's been a long time, Gansey."
It was instinct for him to want to reach out to her. Touch was their lifeline, it always had been. When they could not kiss, they had learned how to mold affection around it. How to wrap fingers around a wrist or to pull Blue on his lap when one or both of them needed comfort. But he didn’t know how to do that now. He’d been warned by his Blue that things would not be easy for him, and wasn’t about to push his luck by getting kicked out.
“I love practical things,” he supplied, since he couldn’t just outright blurt that they were hot. (They were. They were very hot.) He didn’t want the space, but he let her step away silently and just watched her move. It was nice to take it all in, to see the changes, the growth. But the sadness settled into his chest that he hadn’t been here to experience this with her. If things were bleak, they knew they could still make do if they had each other. It had to be a hope that he clung to now, even if she wasn’t interested in keeping him close.
“I’m sorry.” He knew it wouldn’t mean much, and didn’t expect it to, but he said it nonetheless. “I know a little and I’m-- sorry I wasn’t here with you. But I’ll do what I can to help you now. Anything you all need from me, you have it.”
"I knew it, I knew you were going to apologize. Don't apologize, for Christ's sake, Gansey." Blue was nearly shouting, and oh—there it was. The unwanted sting of tears in her eyes. She had lasted, what? Three minutes? There was nothing left to distract her, only her and Gansey in her too small room with all her things that were more his than hers.
She had to maintain some sensibility or the next two weeks with him would only be worse than losing him. Her mind was screaming not to get attached to this version of him. If they were successful, or if they failed, her Gansey would still be gone. But wasn't this her Gansey too?
Reaching for the chain at her neck, Blue rubbed unconsciously at the rings there, before squeezing her fist tight around them—it was habit, a way to ground herself in all the uncertainty through the years. Her way of reaching for the strength Gansey had left behind.
"I told them you would come, no matter what. And I know, I know, you're capable and able to fend for yourself. You were so good, all the way to the end," Blue said, nearly lost in the memory of that day. She shook it off. "But I didn't want you to, I didn't want your help."
Blue hesitated, before reaching to brush hair from his face, and exhaled a shuddering breath. "We're about to do a lot of dangerous shit, and I can't lose you again. Any version of you."
He wanted to apologize again, but managed to stop himself. Though the credit went to Blue, who distracted him so thoroughly with her fidgeting that he was sure he stopped breathing for a minute. The rings on her necklace were familiar to him, but one of them didn’t belong to her yet in his time period. It sat, tucked away in a secret little safe in his desk drawer, waiting for the right moment. Waiting for Blue.
He’d had it a while now. One just like it back home, and a replacement after their memory dump had happened recently. There were some things Gansey just ran forward with all the energy in his body, and some things he knew could wait for the right moment. He knew he could wait for Blue, and then when she was ready, he’d be prepared.
Gansey was always prepared. Or so he thought. His throat locked up and he had to force air through it. “I’m not going to make you empty promises. But I can’t go back now, and I want to help. I’d never forgive myself if I could and I left anyway.” He was so hopeful, so earnest when he looked up at her through his eyelashes, practically begging for her to give him a chance. “I brought you a gift?”
Blue was not unobservant. Years of always looking over her shoulder had made her somewhat paranoid, always sleeping with a knife under her pillow, and the distinct ability to shut down all the magic in a room faster than a blink. It was dangerous in the Outpost, but it could buy some time when Thralls were involved. And that was what they had to call them—Thralls, because remembering them as the friends and family they once were made the idea of them slithering into their home harder.
But as her eyes were trained on him, she was unable to look away now that he was here. Blue could sink into tricking her brain into believing she was six years younger and Gansey was attempting to bait her on an adventure into the forest behind the Barns. Not begging her in what this reality was to give him a chance to run into danger because he could help, death hovering over his shoulder like a phantom.
"Of course you do, of course you want to help. But you know why I am justifiably concerned about you getting caught in the thick of it. You're still untrained in—what?" Blue asked, not sure she heard him right. She was ready to read him every single safety protocol, fiercely and defiantly lay down the rules for allowing him in and out of the Outpost. But he was saying he brought a gift and she didn't know what to do with this information.
Her voice was softer, even if the words were not. "It's not a vacation, Gansey," Blue said, but she was curious about what he thought she might need in the post apocalyptic future.
“Caleb and Essek filled us in. We had to sign a waiver.” That last part was his poor attempt at humor, which was probably a mistake, but the first part was true. “Okay that was a bad joke, but I know the rules. I know magic draws attention. I know what not to do. I’m here to help.” And he was going to stay that way, through her stubbornness.
He still had to get around the wall that was Ronan Lynch, too. Gansey expected even worse from Ronan, who was equally stubborn as Blue but could be much harsher with his words. Folding now would be giving up not even halfway in and that was out of the question.
“We’ve had much better vacations.” Gansey agreed with a nod. It didn’t stop him from leaning over to pull his backpack in closer so he could rummage around in it. He had a few things for Ronan, too, and Adam, though he was a little worried about what he was walking into there. “We brought some regular supplies too, for everyone. But,” With a little triumphant noise, Gansey pulled out a small orange bag and a small container and held them up to her, not pausing even under the weight of her gaze. “Peanut butter m&ms and homemade yogurt, no fruit at the bottom. I thought that might be something you hadn’t had in a while.”
Her expression was dubious, confused, at what Gansey would be digging out of his backpack. She hoped it was weapons, some kind of non-perishable food, more first aid supplies—hell, an extra blanket so that he wouldn't be cold in the dark, damp cover of the Outpost that Blue had grown used to. Her brain cycled through all the pragmatic choices that Gansey could have thought was a gift, but this? This was not it.
Blue's attention was on the container, then Gansey, the candy, then Gansey. All rapid fire, as if to say is this a joke? She wasn't laughing, she couldn't even feel anything other than the oversaturated gratitude, the kindness, the thoughtfulness that Gansey had for her. She and Ronan watched out for one another, but this was someone thinking solely of her comfort and needs in a purely selfish sense that Blue hadn't been able to do.
And then her face crumpled; tears came hot and fast down her cheeks. Shit, she was crying over yogurt and chocolate. No, not just yogurt and chocolate. Over the fact that Gansey was here, holding them out to her, like everything was simple and easy. It was once, it could be again.
She exhaled, shaky, still trying to pretend that she was keeping it together, but it was obvious that she wasn't. "Thank you," Blue said, reaching out tentatively to take them both. "We don't have a fridge here. I have to... I have to eat the yogurt now. I don't want you to have wasted valuable space only for it to go bad."
Oh. “Shit.” Gansey wasn’t used to making Blue cry - the few times it had happened had all been bad but he’d technically missed most of them. For depressing reasons that he would rather not dwell on. Either way it was mostly uncharted territory that made his eyes go wide. “Okay I-” He’d prepared for that too, and pulled out a plastic spoon for her. “This is my camping backpack so you’d be surprised how much I can fit in this thing.”
That was an understatement, as he still had an ipod and a few books stashed away in here, along with documents, some small weapons (Blue’s addition), toiletries, epi-pen (at Ronan’s insistence), gummy snacks and granola… He’d gotten help and there had been a great deal of opinions, all welcome. They didn’t quite know what they were stepping into, after all, and sometimes it was the little things people needed the most. “Do you need toothpaste? I brought extra. Sorry. I just--”
Gansey put the backpack to the side and stood, awkwardly, like he took up too much space in this small room but was trying to make himself a little less imposing all the same. “Can I hug you? If not, I’ll understand, but I’d like to.”
Oh no. It was getting worse. He was prepared with a spoon. He was offering her toothpaste. He was asking for permission to hug her, even though she had done nothing but keep him mostly at arm's length since he arrived, because she couldn't get attached. How stupid to think that being around Gansey would be easy, that she could compartmentalize it all back into those neat little boxes. That line of thinking had been mentally necessary when the days had gotten so bad. But not now, she needed to unearth them and just feel everything all at once.
When was she ever going to get this chance again?
Blue started nodding, and then didn't wait for him to reach for her, she reached for him. Blue gathered Gansey up in the tightest embrace that she could while still holding the yogurt. It was all ugly crying now, with her face pressed into the shoulder of his shirt to hide it. He smelled like home, like warmth, with the presence of mint ever permeating every part of him. There was wild mint growing by his grave that scented the space when she visited, but it was a weak consolation to the real thing.
Now it was her turn to apologize. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I wasn't—that I didn't—" There were too many things she wanted to say, so many opportunities that she had failed to take, and she was wasting time by trying to remain neutral in the face of the person she loved. Still loved, even after all these years. "I missed you so much, Gansey."
Back home, he would have pressed a kiss to the top of her head, but Gansey was not in the habit of doing that when he wasn’t explicitly sure she was turned off. Even though things were-- sapped, he’d seen what she had done out in the fight, and kept himself content to just rest his cheek to the top of her head instead. His arms wrapped around her, tight and warm, and stroked a hand down her back soothingly.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he reassured. He had no concept of everything they’d been through, and was sorry he wasn’t there to help them up to this point. His family deserved so much more than that. “One of my reasons for being here is to help prevent this from happening in any other future. But I’ll be careful, I promise.”
He didn’t pull away from the hug. It wasn’t tight enough now that Blue couldn’t escape (she had always been very good at slipping out from under his arms) if she wanted to, but he also just liked being held by her. “Would it help if I promise to stay with you or Ronan at all times? You can set the rules, if you like.”
She shivered when he ran a hand down her back, followed by the self conscious flinch. Gansey hadn't been there for every battle, every injury, but she knew of the deep one down her back from a Thrall—the closest call she had ever come to kissing death—and she was suddenly self conscious. The darkness of the world hadn't touched Gansey, not truly, not yet. And all of her being wanted to keep him from seeing any more of it.
But he was here to help. He was here to fix the mess that Interitus had made. And there was no way to protect him from seeing the evilness of all of it. She and Ronan could only protect him from allowing that evilness to win. God, it was so fucked up.
Blue was greedy though, and she didn't want to let him go, as if a dam had burst against the flood of her feelings that she had kept so tightly locked. Somewhere in the embrace she had stopped crying, because a trained voice in her head said that wouldn't get anything done. "If you promise that, you have to keep it," Blue said, her voice unsteady, but gaining footing with every word. "It's by me or by Ronan, or—" She couldn't say Adam, and she couldn't bring up Nora. That was not a conversation for her to have.
"There are a few other people here that you'd be safe with, but some of the people you knew, aren't who you remember. You're—you're a ghost here Gansey, along with everyone else who came. It's going to take people a while to get used to it. Don't take it too harshly, okay?" Blue pleaded, as if she was asking for that same forgiveness.
Gansey felt her flinch and gave her a little room, not wanting to spook an already tense Blue Sargent. They’d made a lot of headway and he was thankful for that, as he already knew some other conversations would be difficult to have. Gansey wasn’t here forever - well, that he knew of. If Caleb and Essek perished then--, that was anxiety for another day to worry about - he’d take any easement he could get through all of this.
“I promise.” He could agree to those terms, as he’d had no desire to go out into this world on his own and explore without someone at his back. Someone Blue trusted, because that was often a very short list, and he knew it meant a lot when she did get past any paranoia and let someone in. “I won’t take it badly, I promise that too. You have all been through things I can’t even imagine, so I’ll keep my head down and do as I’m told.”
He sat back down on the edge of her bed and leveled a look up at her. “I just want to help. From what they were saying, this is a last ditch effort, but it also saves us. It’ll change the course of my future, of yours, of everyone’s. So I’ll do whatever you all need me to do.”
Blue wasn't sure what she had been worried about now that she was presented with the very real, very living form of a nearly decade-younger Gansey. A version of him she had kept so protected in her mind because she had nothing else. He had always been capable, and he was only proving that now.
"I know you do. And you're going to. There's just—" Blue seemed to hesitate at a decision, before she joined him on the edge of his bed. She was so close to him, and all the memories she had of them together seemed to flood her at once. Blue could let her guard down, not feel like everything or everyone was coming over her. Paranoia for years was exhausting, and keeping it tampered down to put on a brave face for the rest of the Outpost was even more so. Blue realized how acutely tired she was.
"We've lost you too many times, Gansey. And it's not just a possibility here, it was an inevitability. I don't know if things will become harder now that you're back. But we need you, to save every version of us, and that's what I want to focus on. Not the other things." Like death, the past without him, or the future that was much the same. Her eyes searched Gansey's face, sad and a little hopeful. The other version of her could have a long, uninterrupted life with him. She wanted that.
Knowing that she was being greedy with his time, Blue blew out a soft breath, pressing her nose to his cheek as if she was stealing something she wasn't allowed to have. "Are you ready to see Ronan?"
Gansey took the quiet opportunity to rest his head against the top of hers as they leaned together. While he knew Ronan, and his moods, he also knew how unpredictable Ronan could be. Things had changed here, and Gansey felt ten steps behind. He’d run to catch up, but the running could wait a moment.
“I think, historically speaking, I usually need all of you in the other way around.” He clearly wasn’t very good at doing the saving if they were at this point. Though he was damn well going to try, that was for certain.
He sighed and steeled up his broad shoulders. “Yes and no. I can’t put it off, I’m no coward. But I can’t imagine Ronan will react any better than you rightfully did.” He looked down at her, soft and worried, less of his kingly composure sticking around. “Show me the way?”
"Showing you the way is non-negotiable. It's not safe out there, and it's not the forest that you know. We've had skilled people picked off less than a mile from their safehouses," Blue said this all matter-of-factly, reciting the history of their lives in the most practical way. They didn't have Adam to be their pragmatic buffer anymore.
"But you're not wrong about Ronan, just be—" Patient. Understanding. Forgiving. She didn't have the right word, even if she knew Gansey would be all those things. Blue stood, not finishing her sentence. He could fill in the blanks. And while he did, she gave him another long look, committing this moment to memory in case, just in case. Blue didn't know if she could ever stop feeling like she was saying goodbye, even when people—Gansey, in particular—weren't going anywhere for now.
"C'mon, let's go before it gets too dark." Blue shoved the plastic spoon Gansey had brought with them into one of the pockets of her tactical belt. She was taking the yogurt with her.