InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "he don't want your sympathy,"

adam "now he's a spooky 10" lynch (parrish) (tamquam) wrote in valloic,
@ 2024-04-04 22:58:00

Entry tags:

!: action/thread/log, the raven cycle: adam parrish, the raven cycle: ronan lynch, ~plot: wild vallo

Adam Lynch & Wild!Ronan Lynch

WHAT: Adam saves Ronan from being sucked up by quicksand, and they have a chat about what it's been like to be alone here.
WHERE: The Forest
WHEN: March 31st, afternoon
WARNINGS: None, except mentions of quicksand claustrophobia.
STATUS: Complete!

"I…like to think we'd find each other in any universe. You know, as long as I'm not a squid monster that eats brains or something."

Ronan was quiet as they moved through the forest, looking for the beast. He was quiet a lot these days. But now it came along with weighty stares in Adam's direction and the kind of horrible longing that made him useless apparently. He was used to this forest. He practically was a forest. His sense of self reached out like tendrils of energy in the magical air around them but it did fuck all for stopping him from tumbling into a goddamn bog when he got distracted by sweat clinging to Adam's throat. "What the actual fuck," he growled quietly. In the space of an instant, he was calf deep and sinking further. The ground felt like slow-moving liquid. Like a beast with a steady but snail-speed appetite. With everything they'd been through, Ronan wasn't usually one to panic in these deadly woods. But he felt the rise of anxiety now. He remembered the underground lake in the darkness and he remembered the acid pond, and everything felt very claustrophobic all of a sudden. "Motherfucking quicksand?" He tried to move towards the edge but it pulled him in deeper. It was at his waist already and he maybe, possibly, looked more human than he had in years as he struggled helplessly. "Parrish?" Being back in the forest was like a lesson in masochism. He shouldn't want to go back into the woods after stumbling around in it, losing his sense of self in the process. This wasn't like Cabeswater where he could call out to a familiar feeling and be drawn in a direction—despite him trying. The forest had been an angry sort of magic underneath his skin. Despite his veins buzzing with leyline power in this Vallo, it felt wasted on Adam who relied on a sentient forest at home to do his work. And he hadn't relied on it in awhile. In this Vallo it felt like flexing an old, unused muscle. But the moment Adam had Ronan in his sights, he wasn't letting him out of it. He thought it would be easier to have a conversation with his husband-not-husband in this world. But there was something painful about knowing the years they had built together were insignificant and unattainable here. They didn't even exist. At least this Ronan hadn't given into his hurt and pain and turned it into something awful. At least this one didn't want to kill him on the spot. And so Adam went back into the forest to help track down the beast, if only to keep close to the one person he had always been closest to. They hadn't been walking far, and Adam was desperately trying to keep his eye on the canopy to not lose track of the sun—something he had grown used to doing in the sparse time in this ever-shifting forest. If his face hadn't been tilted up and away, he might have been able to stop Ronan from stepping into the obvious quicksand. He might have been more fucking useful than he was right now. "Shit," Adam swore and took a step back to not get sucked into the same fate. Panic tried to surge up in his throat but Adam knew better than to add to Ronan's building alarm. "Stop moving so much you're going to make it worse, you're going to be swallowed before I can even—" Fuck, what was Adam going to do? Talk him through it? He scrambled for a vine, a branch, something. A sick sense of deja vu blossomed behind his eyes, and instinct forced Adam to his knees and pressed his hands into the loamy earth surrounding the edge of the pit Ronan was in. Adam losing his cool made Ronan flail again, using more of what made him him this time. Unfortunately, being a stubborn eldritch being from another dimension didn't mean squat when you were still stuck in a human body up to your nipples in quicksand. "I used to have this nightmare," he murmured. His voice was soft compared to the frenzied panic in his eyes. "When I was a kid. I'd tell Declan to keep a rope by my bed and he did it too. Think he was more scared than I was that I'd pull it out into the world and drown in quicksand without even leaving my fucking bed." It was the most words he'd said since he'd laid eyes on Adam. It figured that it would take a shit situation to pull him closer to his humanity. He stopped moving and tried to take deep breaths as he continued to sink. It was up to his clavicle now. "I missed you," he said, swallowing hard. "God, I missed you. Should've fucking said it first thing." "You're not going to drown in quicksand," Adam said, sharply. Not because he was mad, and not because what Ronan was saying wasn't a very real fear, but because Adam wasn't going to let him. There was no way he was going to watch his husband—who once again, didn't even know he was his husband—drown a slow, suffocating death in front of his eyes. If they were talking about nightmares, then this was Adam's; to be so incapable, to watch helplessly, to lose Ronan. Maybe it was Adam who didn't tell Ronan he loved him enough, maybe this was poetic justice to relive this moment again. But no, no—he wouldn't let his dark, inadequate thoughts get the better of him. He focused on the feeling of the earth under his nails, the pulse of the wild leyline in his palms. Tapping into this magic was wholly different than in their Vallo. It felt chaotic, but strong. But Adam, with Ronan's life on the line, and the adrenaline from panic and fear thrumming in his veins, was so much stronger. In an effort for some small moment of self-preservation—because he couldn't fail, but if he did, God if he did, he couldn't watch it—Adam squeezed his eyes shut. He was murmuring c'mon, and maybe a swear, and definitely some Latin that would make sense if he was listening to himself. But instinct took hold behind his chest, and from beneath Ronan and around the pit came a rumble and a sharp crack as if the forest was breaking apart for something that didn't quite fit, bending to the will of magic that wasn't quite theirs. Between one second and the next, a series of roots from a tree that didn't exist before spiraled from underneath Ronan and lifted him clear out of the quicksand and onto the moderately safe ground beside Adam. Breathing heavily, Adam finally opened his eyes. The look he gave Ronan was an amalgamation of, unfettered love and utter relief. "I missed you too." There was sand in Ronan's eyes. That's what the old Ronan would have clung to explain away the dampness clinging to his eyelashes. It was true but it wasn't the only truth. Ronan felt Adam's magic drive through the shifting ground around him like he'd felt Adam's soul moving through the sweetmetal sea. It called to a part of him that had been shuttered and closed off for years: the very human heart of him. He reached out with his own magic - not that of just a dreamer, but that of the Greywaren, part alien species, part ancient forest, part something he didn't even have a name for. With it, he pushed all of his latent energy into the ground at the same time as Adam pulled him free. The sand around the new tree's roots dissolved into dirt, real dirt, free of forest influence. It let the tree settle comfortably into the ground like it belonged there. That didn't mean Ronan wasn't covered in sand and feeling the discomfort of his extraction though. He was deposited on his knees and he rolled over onto the ground like an exhausted lump. Adrenaline was abandoning him quickly. "You've gotten stronger," he said softly, his smile a little otherworldly but still Ronan. "Not just because the magic is strong here." He quieted and covered his face with a hand, feeling suddenly vulnerable. Being human was terrible. "Thank you," he whispered. When his heart didn't feel like it was seconds away from crawling out of his throat, Adam extracted his hands from the dirt, and crawled over to Ronan. There was more to say—the shift from sand to dirt, the new piece of the forest where it didn't exist before, the power that came from the shifting from one thing to the other and what that meant for them—but Adam wanted, needed, to know Ronan was safe. "I haven't done that in awhile. We have to stop—" Adam took a deep breath, feeling every ounce of his stamina fall apart now that the immediate danger was gone. "We have to stop meeting like this." A bad joke, a terrible joke, but he had seen the moments of Ronan's humanity shine through here and he craved it. He wanted more of it. Even in the middle of a forest that didn't want them. He started brushing the sand, the evidence of the near-death, from Ronan's clothes. He probably should have asked to touch him, if this was allowed, but Adam knew they were past that sort of consent. It was implied. Finding one another's essence in an incorporeal space and touching the very being of another person made physical contact seem trivial. "Ronan, " Adam said, equally soft, ignoring his thanks. He didn't want a thank you for saving his life. He would do it no matter what. He reached for the hand covering his face. "Ronan, look at me. Are you okay?" Ronan grunted noncommittally. He was still trying to figure that out. "I'm alive." He dropped his hands to pat around on his body. There were definitely some bruises from where the tree had held on too tightly - it was a fucking tree though, he couldn't exactly blame it. Also it was an extension of Adam, and he'd have let Adam hold him too tightly all day every day. That was probably information better left unsaid. "Everything seems to be where it should be. There's sand in my crack though." Jokes weren't a frequent occurrence for him anymore, but if anything showed he was trying to find his way back, it was this. "Guess it could be worse." He offered a crooked little smile and pushed up to his elbows. "See any more of that shit around?" Observant asshole that he was, Adam had spent more time being suspicious of the strangeness coming off Ronan. The closest this one came to the Ronan that Adam knew was his desperate pleas as he was sinking in the quicksand and the slight joke. But it felt so infrequent—the moments of clarity and lucidity— amongst the more recurring parts of Ronan that were distant, uncanny, otherworldly. Adam's mouth fell into a tight, thin line as he watched Ronan look around for other threats. "No, I don't see anything," Adam said, though he didn't exactly seem to be looking. He spent far too much time in this forest in the last few days, that Ronan had been a better view. He grabbed at his Ronan's forearm, just to hold him still. "Just take a second before we start throwing ourselves at the mercy of this forest again. I know you deal with this shit all the time, have been for awhile, but you just turned sand into dirt and I just pulled a tree out of the ground—it's a lot." Adam didn't clarify if it was a lot for him to do it (it was) or if it was a lot to process between them (it also was.) He had so many questions bubbling at the back of his mind, and he didn't know which one to ask first now that he had Ronan alone. Or if he would even answer them. But Adam could be blunt and unapologetic about it; now was one of those times. "What happened to you?" It was comforting that Adam didn't beat around the bush with him. Ronan didn't think he could handle that level of awkwardness. It had been four years and his mind was a convoluted mishmash of monster and man, but at the heart of him was still one universal truth: Ronan Lynch loved Adam Parrish. "Nothing happened to me." That wasn't entirely true but he frowned, trying to put the past few years into words. He sat up, wincing as his body protested. "I came here. You didn't. Gansey didn't." The list went on but he thought that was enough to get his point across. "No one but Matthew did and the forest was so. Powerful. I kept spending time out here, to avoid sitting around in my own head." Eventually, the line where Ronan ended and the creature he was before became blurred. Then one day it was gone. He didn't know how to say that without sounding stupid. He turned over his hand on his thigh and clenched a fist. Unclenched it. Clenched it again. "Sometimes I forget I was ever human at all. I make myself find Matthew and sit by him. To remember." This might have been worse than the Ronan that tried to hurt him, and that was saying something. That Ronan had been angry, emotionally bleeding, almost like his turn to darkness was an inevitability—one Adam had seen poured into Bryde. But this one was existing in the only way he knew how, which was not very human at all, and Adam wondered if four years was too late to make a difference. If sitting here with him would be nothing but a blip in his lifetime, unchanged by Adam. He hoped not. Not when Ronan had changed everything about Adam for the better. Hope was such a tenuous thing. But because of Ronan, Adam had hoped more than he ever had. Sometimes he didn't even know how to explain it, how to thank him for it: I love you never felt like enough. Again, he reached for Ronan's fist, taking the curled fingers and slowly, gently, unfurling them one by one. "You are human," Adam said, running his index finger along the lines of Ronan's palm: life line, heart line, fate line. For someone who was supposed to be more eldritch than mortal, Ronan had very human futures etched into his hands. "You are and you are more than that too, but you're still Ronan. To me." Adam tangled their fingers together, holding hands, palm to palm. "I can't turn back time, or change what happened to you here, but I can sit with you now. Help you remember." A lofty goal from Adam, but he was up for the challenge. Ronan blinked wide eyes at Adam, watching his profile as he touched Ronan's hand. His heart felt raw. Had Adam always been this beautiful? Even with days in the forest so obviously having left their mark and a smudge of dirt on his cheek, Adam was prettier than any dream Ronan had ever brought into the world. "It might be better if you don't," he whispered. "Help me remember." He moved his free hand to sweep some of Adam's hair back from his temple. "It'll just make it hurt more." He tried to smile, even if it was a sad, tremulous little thing. Being a depressing freak wasn't actually his idea of a good time. Maybe he could fix this. He took a breath and lifted their twisted fingers to his cheek. "I saw some of your life. I couldn't…hold onto the memories for long but it looks good." His eyes found their way to Adam's. "I'm glad." It was strange to tell Ronan his life was good when Ronan was the direct result of it being good. This had always been the problem for Adam; staring down his husband with the same sharp features, rough edges, and brusque nature but finding something different behind his eyes. Maybe it was a testament to how much weird shit they had been through that Adam didn't even shy away from the contact, and let Ronan take these gentle touches for whatever they were worth. Like they did this every day. "It is, it is good. We're good, together," Adam said. He wasn't afraid to tell this Ronan about their life and worry about the reaction. But that didn't mean he liked the underlying feeling of being unmoored, disconnected, that this Ronan seemed to be okay with. Adam might not be able to help him remember, but he suspected this memory—almost dying in quicksand only to be saved by each other and not get to keep one another—would leave something behind. Adam didn't want to push. When Ronan met his gaze, Adam met his, beat for beat, breath for breath. "Ronan," Adam started to say, licked his lips, and reconsidered before he started again. "I love you. Even if you don't remember anything else, even if you choose to let it all go because it's going to hurt, don't forget that." Ronan had to close his eyes and lean into Adam's side. It wasn't like this wasn't something he didn't know already. He'd known the moment he'd realized Adam was here looking for the Ronan he'd gotten a glimpse of in that memory flash. He'd known when he'd woken up here without his fiance. It didn't matter that Adam had been in a different universe at the time. Tamquam alter idem didn't have borders. "I love you too, Parrish. I…like to think we'd find each other in any universe. You know, as long as I'm not a squid monster that eats brains or something." He offered up a lazy smile, something in his gaze more human by the second. "Just don't worry about me, okay? I can wait. You'll find your way here eventually." He had to believe that. He wasn't sure he had believed that a few days ago, but he could take the feeling of Adam at his side and every spot where they were touching, and he could let it carry him to a future where he had his soulmate back. Ronan huffed a laugh. "Let's be honest. You're too stubborn to do anything else." "I'd still love you if you were a squid monster that ate brains," Adam said, so seriously that it could be mistaken for him actually considering the logistics of what that would entail. He was never one to shy away from Ronan's ridiculousness, he simply offered the rational facts later. A certain plywood ramp and a car that was supposed to go to the moon came to mind. Adam sighed softly, as whatever unsteady feeling between them settled into something normal, palatable. He leaned back into Ronan's side, his eyes unfocused and staring at the tree. They could create anything together—why not a life in both worlds? He hoped, he knew, Ronan could wait for him. "I can't believe you're the one calling me stubborn," Adam said after a long companionable moment without saying anything. There was a small smile in his voice. "Finding my way back here is not about being stubborn. Some people consider it goal-oriented." "Uh huh." Ronan grinned crookedly and pushed to his feet, pulling Adam along with him. "Speaking of goals. We've got a beast to track." He was having a hard time taking his eyes off Adam, and an even harder time taking his hands off him. So he didn't bother trying. He kept their hands tangled and started walking. They needed to do this thing, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy what time he had and wallow a bit in this feeling of being alive. "Tell me about how good you and your squid monster are together while we walk. I'll keep a better eye out for quicksand this time." Ronan squeezed Adam's hand. "Promise."