Chapter Text
The first time it happened, Adam was annoyed.
There was a knock at the door, and Adam was only a little surprised when he had opened the door to Ronan, eyes dangerously bright, thrumming with reckless energy.
“I’m studying here.” Ronan announced
Adam stared at him. “Why?” It came out with more vitoral then Adam had expected, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care.
Ronan’s scowl hardened. “Do I have to have a reason?”
“If you want to use my place as a crash pad, then yes.”
Ronan inhaled deeply, “I don’t want Gansey getting his fucking panties in a knot over my stupid fucking grades, but when ever I actually do study, he gets all concerned and thinks I’m having a fucking break down, because apparently studying is abnormal behavior for me and is a sign of an impending break down or some shit like that.”
“Apparently.” Adam muttered,
“Fuck you. I’m fine.” Ronan said, pushing past him, and to his desk.
“Of course you are.” Adam said, sitting on his bed, and watching as Ronan pulled out his home work, and began working.
Ronan had always seemed to be in motion; gnawing his bracelets, bouncing his leg, drumming his fingers. But now he was still. A statue hunched over his book, staring blankly at the page. With no outlet, the energy that Ronan had brought into the room hung uneasily in the air.
“What happened?” Adam asked.
Ronan jerked; startled back to reality, but recovered quickly. “What the fuck do you mean?”
“I mean why are you acting so weird?”
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Yes,” Adam let out a frustrated breath, “you are. Don’t lie.”
“I don’t lie.” Ronan said,
“Then tell me what happened.”
Ronan closed his eyes. “Kavinsky.”
“Ronan.” Adam said, exasperation lacing every syllable. Adam hated what Kavinski did to Ronan; the way Ronan seemed to give up on himself when they were together, somehow seeming to simultaneously sharpen and wilt. Kavinsky was killing Ronan, and all Adam could do was watch. “Why?”
“He-” Ronan bit his lip, “He understands.”
“What could he possibly understand?” Adam demanded.
Ronan said nothing,
“No,” Adam continued angrily, “Tell me, what makes him so appealing to you? Is it the drugs? The fact that he’s not going to live past twenty? The fact that when he dies, he’ll probably take you with him?”
“He understands dreaming.” Ronan snapped. There was something broken on his face. “He knows what it’s like to be so afraid of yourself that you can’t sleep for days, because you know if you do, you’ll wake up with slit wrists or cuts all over your body or worst” ROnan shuddered, “wasps.”
Adam’s anger vanished, and was replaced with a deep sadness at the completely wrecked expression on Ronan’s face. He wanted to pull him closer. He wanted to tell them that he wasn’t alone. That he wasn’t the only one who was terrified that going to hurt the people around him. Tell him that he understood him better than Kavanski. What came out was hard and cold and safe. “You’re dreams aren’t an excuse to throw self destruct.”
He hated himself the minute they came out.
“Fuck you.” Ronan said, getting to his feet, “I’ll go somewhere else.”
Images flashed in Adam’s vision. Ronan racing. Ronan drinking. Ronan-
“Wait.” Adam said, before his pride had a chance to flare to life, “Stay.”
Ronan froze. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” Adam sighed, “I’m sure.”
Hesitantly, Ronan dropped back down onto the chair, and, saying nothing, began studying.
Adam picked up his book and began reading. After an hour or so, he heard Ronan’s breath begin to even out, and when he looked over the edge of his book, he saw that Ronan was slumped in the chair, lips slightly parted.
Knowing he should feel more annoyed then he was, Adam walked over to Ronan and gently shook his should.
“What?” Ronan asked, eyes fluttering open, “Adam?”
Adam couldn’t help but smile at the unguarded expression Ronan was wearing. “Do you want to stay here or go back to Monmouth?”
“I always dream of wasps.” Ronan said, words slurred with sleep,
“So here?”
Ronan hummed.
“Alright.” Adam said, guiding Ronan to the floor and handing him a pillow and blanket, which Ronan curled around gratefully.
“Wait,” Adam said, before Ronan could fully fall asleep, “How often do you have these dreams?”
“Every night.” Ronan mumbled.
“And you always bring things back?”
“Usually.” Ronan responded, “It wouldn’t be so bad it there was anything in my mind I wanted to bring back.”
“I’m sorry.” Adam said, but Ronan was already asleep.
Adam woke up to a gasping sound.
Ronan was sitting on the floor, eyes wide and frantic. Blood was spilling from long cuts up his forearms and legs.
“Oh my god, Ronan!” Adam gasped, “What did you do?”
Ronan closed his eyes, then opened them. “None of my veins were cut.”
“What happened?” Adam asked, anger fraying the edges of his voice. For some reason he had trusted Ronan not to self destruct around him. Something deep and stupid inside him though that Ronan didn’t want to die around him. Stupid.
Ronan’s expression seemed to shatter at Adam’s tone. Shame that hardened into anger. “I’ll pay you fucking back for the ruined pillow and blanket, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He snapped, getting to his feet.
Adam opened his mouth to tell Ronan to stop, to stay, but nothing came out.
The door slammed behind Ronan as he left.