InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Shoe me your toolbelt of love."

Ronan Lynch (alteridem) wrote in valloic,
@ 2023-04-24 18:36:00

Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, the raven cycle: adam parrish, the raven cycle: ronan lynch

Log: Adam & Ronan Lynch

ADAM LYNCH

RONAN LYNCH

WHERE Boyd's
WHEN A few days after the future plot ended
WHAT Adams been brooding about the Bad Future; Ronan pushes for answers
STATUS Complete
WARNINGS None that I can think of

Still, he'd held onto his stubbornness until he realized Adam was avoiding him. And well that shit simply wouldn't do.

Being avoidant was an Adam Parrish-now-Lynch skill. Being avoidant with a reason, like picking up shifts at Boyd's now that Toph wasn't around, was an artform. He could use every excuse to dodge questions because they were legitimate rather than some fabricated bullshit he was spinning into something that sounded honest. He was sure it would piss Ronan off when he caught on to what Adam was doing, but for now Adam was going to keep on playing this overtime-overworked version of himself. And this current version of Adam was on his back, elbows-deep, inside the underside of a Dodge Rambler, in the notable silence of the garage. It made it easier for him to listen for the front door, or the phone, or even one of the bay doors opening. Adam had been getting too lost in his thoughts, working over every situation he could think of and workable outcomes that he could be prepared for, that noticing people coming and going was becoming difficult. The only person that couldn't get by his otherworldly senses was Ronan, who was traitorously tattled on by Cabeswater brushing against the back of his mind like a knock. Adam stayed where he was, pointedly so. Busy, he was busy, and Ronan should know that—at least that was the vibe he was trying to give off. But a few minutes went by, and ignoring Ronan had always been impossible. "If you're going to lurk, you can at least hand me the quarter-inch socket wrench on the table." And he held out his grease-stained hand out from under the car. Ronan had done some of his own avoiding, during the height of the mission to save the future. He'd stayed focused on helping Adam find clues at the library and on reaching out in his dreamscape for hints of corrupted magic here. He'd found a dead spot, just past the farm's eastern edge, where the forest kissed the Barns. He'd felt it before he could make the mistake of walking through it, and he'd told no one but Opal. She'd been the only one he worried would explore there. And he hadn't wanted to distract Adam while he was already stressed. He hadn't wanted to know too much about the terrible future either, so he was clearly a coward in more ways than one. But now that the danger was - mostly - passed, he couldn't stop thinking about it. What he didn't know. What hints of things he did know. Gansey had said Adam escaped something and that detail haunted Ronan just as much as not knowing how Gansey died. Still, he'd held onto his stubbornness until he realized Adam was avoiding him. And well that shit simply wouldn't do. He narrowed his eyes as Adam ordered him around instead of coming out of hiding. Unfortunately, he still knew jack shit about the mechanics of automobiles and that included the tools so it took a second of staring at the tools on the table before he grabbed his best guess and slapped it down into Adam's hand - not painfully, but not exactly gently either. "You do any interviews for new employees today?" Ronan crouched down next to Adam's legs, pressing a hand to his knee to soften the snarkiness of his words. "Or are you just planning on doing it all yourself until we forget what you look like?" It felt like a sentence, unsaid, when Ronan handed him the wrench. Adam was reminded of cold shoulders, and long stretches of silence, and slammed doors. All those things they did to each other without actually speaking. And for once, Adam was tired. Not just the kind where sleep would help, but the kind where his emotional state was too heavy to carry alone anymore. He knew he should say something to Ronan, because holding it all in was stupid, but Adam didn't have a solution. He didn't want to answer Ronan's questions with I don't know. He tried to unscrew the bolt, realized the tool was right but the size was wrong, and sighed. Adam tossed it into the metal pan with the others, and laid under the car contemplating all the scenarios on how this conversation was going to go. He was being a coward for not coming out. Adam pressed his knee back into Ronan's hand, reciprocating and recognizing the gesture. "I could take a bunch of pictures. Leave voice memos. I considered getting a cardboard cutout of myself to have around the house, so you don't forget," Adam said, in a way that sounded absolutely serious. "Makes the getting me naked part difficult but we're problem solvers. We could come up with something." "Don't make me hump a cutout, that's just mean." Ronan tugged a bit on Adam's leg, not quite insistent yet, but urging. "I miss your face, asshole. And I brought you some of the casserole Gansey made. If I take it home uneaten, he's gonna sad face about it." He'd probably more than sad face about it. There was a vibe at the house lately. Not exactly hard to tell why. Now with Toph gone, the vibe at Boyd's was sad too. Ronan could see a corner with all her stuff still laid out, clearly arranged so that a blind person could find what they needed easier than a sighted one. "Come out of there or I'll have to sit here on the ground next to you and eat it myself." Adam's ridiculously needy stomach gurgled, once, at the mention of casserole. He couldn't hide it, and he couldn't hide from Ronan. Especially not under the piece of shit car that was worth more in parts than fixing it. And he would be lying if he said the tug at his leg didn't make him feel like crap. He slid out from under the car with one push; the tiny wheels on his cart did the rest. "You drive a hard bargain, but the thought of you humping a cardboard cut out is depressing. How's this?" Adam asked, gesturing at his own face as he sat up. His hands were still a mess from the car, and he left his rag under the Ramble. He didn't think Ronan would let him back under so soon in case he didn't come out again. It was tempting. "Interviews are shit, by the way. This may need to be our dinner routine for the next few nights." Adam paused, trying to clean his hands on his coveralls—to no avail. "You're not here to just bring me casserole, are you?" "You know…it's pretty damn good," Ronan said, reaching out to caress the face in question. He swiped a smear of black from Adam's cheek while he was at it. Okay, maybe he just made it worse, but it was the thought that counted. "Might need to dunk you in some soapy water though." His grip moved to one of Adam's hands, which he claimed and massaged at like he always did when Adam was using them too roughly. Schoolwork, mechanic work, gardening - it was all an excuse to touch Adam's hands with subtle worship. Adam's dinner was up on a table nearby. Ronan was tempted to rush him towards it rather than answer the question. He blew out a breath. "It's not the only reason. I mean, I don't fucking love you overworking yourself obviously. Maybe I should take over your interviews. I can get Sargent to help and we'll weed through the annoying ones fast enough." He hadn't admitted yet what the other reason was, but there wasn't a time limit. He was working up the nerve. His eyes fluttered closed at the touch. It wasn't a new gesture, and Adam was past shying away from physical contact. But something about Ronan trying to clean his face—so simply, so obvious, so him—followed by massaging his tired hands made Adam swallow down the feeling of being overwhelmed. He had only started to relax into this life; maybe he had jinxed himself by believing he didn't have to worry. After the trip to the future and digging too far into things he shouldn't have, all Adam did now was worry. His curiosity had fucked him over. The look he gave Ronan was one that reflected regret, concern; the kind of look he would give before he blurted out everything he had been holding in. Except, what Adam said was, "Less about the options being annoying, and more about the lack of any coming in. I need someone with experience to fill the shifts, not someone who I have to teach." He turned his attention to Ronan's ministrations, flipping his hand over so that his palm was up. "I can save the annoying ones for you if you insist on helping. Whoever I hire has to see you just as much as they would see me." Adam let Ronan continue a few seconds longer, greedy for his affection and continuing his avoidance tactics. "I thought you said you brought dinner?" Ronan grunted an acknowledgement; he couldn't do anything about no options, but he could run off the ones who'd just get on Adam's nerves. He knew no one would compare to Toph anyway. "Sounds like you should just take on less business until you work it out." He knew the odds of that were slim, but that didn't mean he couldn't point out the practicality of it. Even better if he could be distracting at the same time. Ronan stood and pulled Adam to his feet in one smooth move. It wasn't the first time he'd come to the garage and fetched his husband from under a car. And it wasn't the first time he'd fought the distraction of Adam in greasy coveralls either. "It's over there," he nodded towards a metal table and the tupperware sitting on top of it. There was only one stool but he was feeling antsy anyway. "It might even still be warm. Just…" He sighed and turned towards the table, rubbing a hand over his buzzed hair. "I might talk at you while you eat, ok? We need to talk about some shit and I can't keep putting it off." Sometimes it was good to turn off his brain and just let Ronan move him around. He stood when pulled away from the car, sat on the lone stool when directed toward food, and wiped down his hands as he watched the way Ronan broached a complicated question. Adam liked when he could craft an argument in his head as to why taking on less business wasn't practical—he had huffed and grumbled out a Ronan at the suggestion—but Adam knew that wasn't the conversation they were heading toward. With mostly clean hands, he reached for the tupperware, and stabbed with a fork at the casserole a few times; it was still warm. Adam knew it was going to go cold if he didn't eat some of it now. "You could keep putting it off," Adam said. "Not saying that's the healthiest way, or the most productive, but I know what you want to talk about." He wanted to talk about it too, but Adam didn't say that. He just ate a forkful of casserole to stall. "I'm giving you an out, Ronan. You're not going to be able to unknow this shit once you ask." The I know I can't went unsaid. Adam shook his head, sighed a little sadly and said, "So talk at me while I eat," then took another bite. "I don't need a fucking out," Ronan grumbled, following Adam over to the table. Wanting an out wasn't the same as needing one. And anyway, he'd talked a lot of crap about Adam knowing things he didn't back when they were teenagers. They were adults now. Married adults. And it occurred to him that the burden of carrying terrible knowledge alone might be part of why Adam was looking so pensive lately. Ronan let Adam sit and start eating before he pressed his hands to Adam's shoulders and started gently massaging the tension there. "I'm sorry I didn't harass you sooner, honestly." He didn't apologize often but when he did, it always sounded sincere. "Think you need to talk this shit out as much as I need to hear it. So. Start with Gansey. How…" Ronan took a breath and blew it out noisily. "How'd he die?" Adam exhaled, miserably. He hated that somehow Ronan still felt the need to apologize for Adam's own inability to work faster, analyze this information quicker, discover a solution that worked for whatever the future held. And despite how much his muscles appreciated the massage, he couldn't help but believe he didn't deserve it, not for the way he had closed himself off from Ronan since everything. He relaxed slightly against Ronan's hands on his shoulders. He put his food down at Ronan's question. How did this become the lesser of two evils? Adam worked his jaw, contemplating his approach, before answering in a simple, factual manner. "Fire. At the Library. Somewhere in the beginning, but he wouldn't abandon his post and went down with it." Adam was going to leave it at that, but there was a beat before all the emotional parts seemed to seep through. "I feel so fucking stupid about the whole thing. I spend all my extra time there, like being around him now is going to change things. Like I'm somehow going to help if some alternate timeline history ends up repeating itself. You said, other you, said we couldn't get there in time, and I don't want to make that mistake again." Ronan closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. The answer wasn't particularly shocking. If anything, it was horribly easy to predict. That didn't make it hurt any less. He massaged Adam's shoulders for a few more moments and then leaned down to kiss the top of his head before he moved around to sit against the table. "Well, shit. Guess I could've figured that one out on my own and I'm not even psychic." He reached out with his foot and hooked it around behind one of Adam's ankles. "But hey. Look at me." Ducking his head to capture Adam's eyes, Ronan frowned and shook his head. "You can't put that on yourself. We can do whatever we can to watch out for him but we also need to talk to him about not putting fucking inanimate objects before his own life. I'll guilt the shit out of him if I have to." He wasn't yet ready to ask the next question, so he stole a bite of Adam's food and chewed ferociously. "Goddamn library," he growled, mouth half-full. Adam tried to turn his face away from Ronan, but it was impossible. It had always been impossible, so the resigned look he gave his husband, followed by the small nod, was his own agreement. They would do whatever they could to make sure he stayed safe, but he still felt a strong responsibility to put it on himself. Unhealthy and as irrational as it was, Adam didn't want Ronan to subscribe to his same unreasonable fears. But that conversation wasn't going to be solved tonight, if ever. Sometimes, Adam's bad habits of taking on the world because he had to, wouldn't unstick, rearing their ugly head when he desperately needed help. Like protecting Gansey. "Yeah, the goddamn library. But there's a difference between guilting him to agree to it, and then him actually doing it when the time comes. If the time comes," Adam said, returning the attempt at footsie. The gesture made him feel marginally better. "It seems like that was the point, when everything went to shit for them. Outside of the obvious." It was Adam's turn to talk at Ronan, as he ate his—now, their—food. "When he died. It was bad, but it became significantly worse. And I think Gansey is holding on to some of that information that I was too chickenshit to ask you." Ronan glowered and stabbed another forkful of food but left the fork resting against the container's edge for Adam. "He's seen how that goes now. If that's not enough to stop him from doing the same damn shit then--then--" He took out his frustration on his face, rubbing at it with his palms, rather than finishing the thought. His stomach twisted acidly, making him feel like a certain absentee brother of his. Talking about Gansey dying was bad enough. But now they were zeroing in the second subject that had been haunting him. It was time to suck it up and just talk. "Did you ask why you were apparently trapped somewhere? I asked Gansey but shit got crazy and he didn't answer me. And you know." His expression soured. "I was afraid to get a straight fucking answer." You could lie, the dark, old voice in his head said. Not Cabeswater, not some other being, but that version of Adam that had been so long buried that present-day Adam consciously thought it no longer existed. He had lied so much for so many reasons over the years. It was an exhausting existence, especially in the face of Ronan, now, who was nothing but earnest and honest even when it pained him to do so. Lying was not a hardship; telling the truth was. And he would persevere for Ronan, who he loved. Who he had always, even when he didn't know it, loved. So he said, "I want to lie, but it doesn't help either of us at this point. I don't have a solution. I don't want to only come to you with problems." Adam didn't reach for his dinner again, he reached for Ronan's hand. Even now he was nervous because Adam couldn't predict Ronan's reaction. He wanted to preemptively soothe him, as Adam watched his frustration grow over just the information about Gansey. "But I didn't have to ask. You told me," Adam said, lacing his fingers between Ronan's and squeezing hard. Maybe he was grounding himself for the truth. "I was, still might be, I don't know, in Cabeswater. For a few years. And not in a good way. All the fucked up shit that was happening to Vallo bled into Cabeswater, then into me." He was quiet, letting the words linger between them, before adding, "I don't know how to stop that from happening here." Ronan was grateful Adam held his hand tightly before spilling the beans. Even though it made his worry spike, it also strengthened his resolve. Whatever the truth was, they would handle it together. Of course, the truth was even more upsetting than he expected. He’d thought Adam had been captured by the enemy or made a thrall, not corrupted by Cabeswater. Not corrupted by Ronan’s own magic. His face fell into a pained frown and he stared at their tangled hands for a tense moment. It wasn’t until his chest started to hurt that he realized he wasn’t breathing. He inhaled sharply. “Fuck. A few years? I don’t…I didn’t think—” He swallowed heavily and twisted his hand in Adam’s grip to stroke up his forearm, pressing more of their skin together like it would somehow give Adam an extra protective barrier. It was fucking stupid and it didn’t do anything to quell the nausea in his gut. “So, what then? You can’t leave? What the fuck have I done to help you?” Ronan's hurt was palpable. Watching him in pain over this was too much, and regret rose up like bile in Adam's mouth. He wanted to take it all back and not burden Ronan with this information like he had planned to before. But Adam could only see the future, not change the past, and so he had to keep going. It was fucked up. "It's too dangerous for me to leave. I'm too dangerous to leave. Putting me in there—" Adam said, only to reach his other hand across to touch Ronan's cheek, to gently urge his eyes up so they could look at each other. If they were going to have this conversation, they couldn't hide from the uncomfortable parts. "Putting me in there was helping me. And you've been protecting Nora." Adam sounded a little wrecked at saying her name. It's complicated was what older Ronan had said to him; little did he know then that complicated was an understatement. Her father was a monster. "The corruption kept getting worse, which means I was. Whatever was left of me in there wasn't me at all. But you kept me safe in there. That's how you've been helping me, okay? Other you probably wouldn't believe me, but I'm telling you now." As cowardly as it was, Ronan still closed his eyes at the touch to his cheek. He just needed a goddamn second to process. No, that was a lie. There would never be enough time to process that he’d imprisoned Adam in Cabeswater. “Nora. What the fuck…,” he whispered, sounding equally wrecked. “But…But I promised I wouldn’t abandon you again. I swore I wouldn’t do that shit to you again.” He abruptly let go of Adam and pushed away from the table. There was an inferno of helpless fury in the center of his chest. It wasn’t like he didn’t understand. He would do worse to protect their daughter and he knew it. But the knowledge that Adam was alone and twisted in Cabeswater, and that he’d put him there, was a special kind of awful. He resisted the urge to kick the ugly Volkswagen in bay two. He had to settle for a quiet string of curses aimed at a wall of tools rather than the man he loved. “You’re okay, though? You’re alive?” He turned around, his shoulders sagging apologetically. “If killing that Interitus fuck fixed it then that means it is fixable.” He said it like it had to be true, even though he had no idea if killing Interitus had cured Adam. The immediacy of Adam's stress came on the moment Ronan pulled away, with Adam reaching remorsefully after him. He wanted to say, no, no, come back, but Adam was silent. He hated that he caused it, and telling Ronan it wasn't abandonment wasn't going to suddenly stop him from thinking that. Even the other version of Ronan had felt similarly, despite what Adam said. Adam didn't move from his chair, though. He didn't stop Ronan's need to be more physical in expressing his emotions. He simply waited, glancing away with his own shame, and then back to Ronan when he asked if Adam, his other self, was okay. Adam stared at Ronan for a long time, as if trying to start another conversation with only his eyes. "For now, I guess, yeah? Okay, alive, existing until things sort themselves out. We'll never know, not unless we can unwind time to find them again to ask," Adam said, sounding bitter and sad. He had already thought of that, and tried to see if it was humanly (or not-so-humanly) possible, but Adam was out of ideas. "I told the other you that we should have a contingency plan, in case—" Adam waved his hand to imply anything; putting into words the potential dangers was fucking nightmare fuel that Adam couldn't unload on Ronan right now. "So that you and I know we agreed on it. And that you're not left wondering if any version of me resents you for making a hard choice." Guilt twisted in Ronan's stomach at the look in Adam's eyes and his shoulders sagged as he made his way back over to his husband. This wasn't helping. Big fucking shock. Being angry rarely did anything but extend the problem and make him feel like an asshole. But feeling helpless was so much worse. He grabbed a spare stool from nearby along the way and slapped it down in front of Adam. "A contingency plan," he growled, taking a seat. His knees threaded with Adam's and he reached over to put his hand on Adam's thighs. "One that doesn't involve me abandoning you inside a corrupted forest. Maybe, fuck." He frowned, chewing on his lip. He didn't want to aim straight for suggesting they find a way to break the bond with Cabeswater. That solution wouldn't help Gansey anyway, if something like this happened to him. "Maybe we build a place to keep any of us if we're dangerous. Something not magic but strong as shit." "Maybe, something like that," Adam said, though he didn't sound convinced. This was where Adam felt like he failed—he should have asked this other Ronan more questions, pulled out concrete answers. Was magic necessary? With the time and the skills, could they have built something to keep them safe without corruption? All Adam had were his gut instincts and ability to read between the lines. But that left too much open to interpretation, too many variables. He hated this problem, and he assumed his other self hated it too. Adam took a deep breath, sliding his hands up Ronan's arms, over his shoulders, until he could drag him down by the back of his neck and their foreheads touched. They were better together, and all these points of contact settled that uneasy wave of anguish in the pit of Adam's stomach. "We don't have to figure this out now. It took some time for me to wrap my head around it too, and I don't have any answers. But what I don't want is for it to be too late, all right?" Adam whispered this, even though they were the only two here. This was for Ronan, and Ronan alone. "I don't want you to think you abandoned me, either. He said if it wasn't for Nora, you would have followed me in, and I just—" He kissed Ronan's cheek. "I love you, you know I do. And I wouldn't want that for you. You didn't break your promise to me then, and you won't now." Ronan knew Adam's doubtful voice well. He rested his forehead against Adam's with a weary sigh. Gansey might be the loudest worrywart in the house, but Ronan would still quietly fester on this subject until he had an answer or it drove him insane. Nora would be with them eventually - he wasn't going to let this glimpse at a dark timeline stop that from happening - but even before she would be, he needed to have a plan that they chose together. "I love you too." Ronan kissed Adam's temple, ghosted his mouth over Adam's deaf ear. "But I think it matters what I want too. Right?" He knocked his head lightly against Adam's, smiling in spite of everything. "I don't want to do this shit without you. If we've got Nora, then obviously, I'll do everything I can to protect her and I know you will too. But if it's just us still? Then it's up to me how far I'm willing to go to save you. You gotta let me have that." He kissed Adam, a firm press of lips like he was sealing a pact. "Please just let me have that," he whispered. A part of Adam wanted to say no, that he couldn't let Ronan rip himself down to the core to save him. That self-doubt and desire to be worthy was painfully real, even years later. Adam had seen first hand the things that Ronan would do—sometimes he'd remember the feeling of Ronan's throat under his palms, as the air slowly left his lungs, a rare but still-occurring nightmare—for him. But another part of Adam, the louder and confident part, knew that what Ronan was asking was fair. And a choice he had to make, one Adam wouldn't and couldn't take away from him. Being able to choose had been the foundation their relationship was built on. He nodded into the kiss, pulled away enough to say, "Okay, yes, okay," and pressed back in for another. It wasn't until Adam was nearly falling off his stool to get closer to Ronan that he came up for air. "I can't do this without you either. I'd be a shitty workaholic who has no sense of humor. Who would I have to be an asshole with? It's not nearly as fun by myself." It was a poor attempt to get Ronan to smile again, and not the bittersweet one from before. "I think I want to be done for tonight," Adam said, using his head to indicate the work behind him. He'd get it done, but it wasn't more important than being with Ronan right now. Ronan matched Adam’s desperate energy, coiling his arms around him and pulling him in tight. He’d have risked rolling them both to the dirty floor if Adam had let him. Even the hood of the ugly Volkswagen looked appealing. But it was probably for the best that Adam hit the brakes – and made him bark a laugh at that. “Fuck. Sounds like Declan before Jordan rebooted his robot ass. We can’t have that,” he murmured affectionately. Pulling Adam to his feet, Ronan grabbed the Tupperware container and plopped it into Adam’s hands, lid askew. Then he hooked his arm around Adam’s shoulders and started them both towards the door. “Let’s go for a drive. We’ll find somewhere scenic to eat that and not talk about anything shitty for the rest of the night.”

CODING