Chapter Text
The next day they all met up at Fox Way as planned. Adam came a bit early to discuss how best to spill the news but they hadn’t really come up with a plan by the time Gansey and Ronan arrived in the Pig. Noah hadn’t come. Finding themselves alone in the entryway for a moment, Gansey greeted Blue by stepping close, placing a hand gently on her waist and saying ‘Blue’ softly in her ear. Blue attempted to let the pleased flush that coursed through her wash away her nervous energy a bit. She was only partially successful.
They all made their way into the kitchen, an indication of how a part of things they now felt at Fox Way. No one sat down, however, an indication of the palpable tension emanating from Blue and Adam. When Blue had called Gansey the night before, she’d only told him that she wanted to discuss something and asked him to bring Ronan. He must have sensed her trepidation because he hadn’t asked a single question. Even now he was eerily withdrawn.
Once everyone had settled against a counter or wall Blue cleared her throat nervously. She held the notebook with the list in her hand and consciously tried to stop rolling it up into a tight tube. Her mom and Calla were somewhere in the house but they hadn’t shown their faces since the boys had arrived. Blue couldn’t tell if she was irritated or relieved at their absence.
“Spit it out, Sargent. You’re making me twitchy,” Ronan huffed. He was twitchy, chewing on his leather bracelets while he rhythmically bumped a heel into the cupboards he was leaning against.
Blue squared her shoulders and cast a nervous glance at Adam across the room. He lifted his chin a fraction of an inch and she took that as a look of solidarity. She couldn’t even glance at Gansey who was leaning against the back door. “Do you remember when we first met Jesse Dittley and I told you about the list?”
Ronan scoffed. “The death list? Yeah. Kind of hard to let that creepy bit of knowledge slip from…” He abruptly stopped speaking. His eyes darted to Blue who felt like she might crumble at any moment, to Gansey who was staring down at his hands, to Adam who was watching Gansey intently. The air was pregnant with the sudden knowledge of what this conversation was about. “Who?” he asked so quietly it was really just an exhale.
When no one said anything he growled it a bit louder. “Who?”
Blue suddenly realized with an awful clarity that telling them all together was a mistake. It would be too much for Gansey to hear about his own impending death and to also have to worry about how his friends were handling it. It would be too much for Ronan to learn about his best friend’s fate and also to realize that some of them have known for a while. Every single one of them deserved to process this awful news in a selfish way, to focus on their own feelings, but being all together made that impossible.
Blue glanced at Adam and he seemed to have come to the same conclusion. His eyes held panic. Before Blue could do anything Ronan grabbed the notebook from her hands.
“Is this it? Jesus!” He began to frantically flip through it until he reached the last page with writing on it. Blue wanted to stop him but knew it was a hopeless task now. She saw when his eyes reached the last name. “Gansey,” he breathed.
All eyes turned to their silent leader. His head was tilted back against the door. His eyes screwed shut, his face a mask of anguish. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“You knew,” Adam murmured.
Gansey exhaled shakily. “My voice. The recording. That was St. Mark’s Eve.”
Blue was numb. She vaguely registered that Gansey’s first reaction had been a ridiculous apology followed by a scholarly footnote. A part of her brain recognized that she’d expected a lot more emotion and drama and something….anything. It was as if all the questions and emotions had tried to enter the room at once and had gotten jammed up together at the door so nothing had come through at all. The room felt empty. She felt empty.
And then Ronan happened.
“You knew.” Ronan’s voice could have corroded steel. It wasn’t clear who he was speaking to exactly. He tilted his head and looked at Blue through his eyelashes. She saw his throat move in a slow swallow. He then shifted his gaze to Gansey who lowered his head to meet his eyes warily. Ronan was breathing so heavily his shoulders raised with each inhale. He then turned his head to Adam and closed his eyes. “Fuck this,” he muttered in a deadly calm voice. He dropped the notebook on the floor and stormed from the room.
Blue braced for the sound of him slamming the front door. Instead she heard Ronan growl. “Let me the fuck through.”
“Not a chance, Snake,” Calla growled back. She must’ve been listening in from the entry way. Their voices weren’t that loud but they carried easily from the front door into the heavy silence of the kitchen. Blue was listening so intently that she didn’t realize Gansey had approached her. He slipped his arms around her and buried his head in her neck. They held each other while they listened to Calla talk Ronan down. There was still so much to say but she was grateful for the silent comfort. It was all she could handle at the moment.
“Listen for a second,” Calla continued to Ronan, a little more kindly. “I know you’re hurting. I also know you are just a kid and if the world were a just place you wouldn’t have been dealt half the cards you’ve already had in your short life. But you are nearly a man too, with people who love you and depend on you. It’s well past time that you learn how to deal with the hurt without tearing off on a self destructive path. Your friends in there are hurting just as much. Help them. Let them help you.”
It was silent for a while with the exception of a few dull thuds. Ronan’s fist or forehead on the door, Blue guessed. Either Calla was still physically obstructing him or Ronan was displaying more restraint than she would have expected. A moment later he reentered the kitchen.
Gansey released Blue with a small squeeze and approached Ronan’s hunched form. One of Ronan’s hands pulled and twisted on his leather bracelets furiously, his gaze focused on the floor. When he finally lifted his head the look on his face was of such misery it broke Blue’s heart all over again. For a split second she thought he might lash out at Gansey. Instead he crossed the last few feet between them and threw himself into a clumsy embrace. Ronan’s impossibly long arms wrapped around Gansey’s shoulders in an awkward jumble of protruding elbows and hands on shaved heads and fists in scrunched shirts.
His garbled voice emerged from the tangle. “You can’t.”
“I know. I know.” Gansey just said it over and over again in a soothing voice.
Blue watched as both their backs shook in silent tears. She felt Adam slip up next to her and she slid her hand into his. She rested the side of her head against his shoulder as they watched helplessly. He turned and rested his head against hers, his mouth pressed into her hair, and let out a long, sad sigh. “We’ll save him, Blue,” he murmured. “We will.”
When Ronan finally pulled away his face was red and splotchy. He scrubbed at it angrily then focused on Adam and Blue. “Jesus H Fucking Christ. Get over here already.”
And so Blue and Adam joined the tangle of limbs in a desperately sad and tender group hug.