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There was no ceremony, no special meaning behind this particular day. Adam was on fall break, and he’d gotten to the Barns just in time to see the leaves start turning into fire. He was careful thinking about that. Not that he was the dreamer, but he happened to spend a lot of time around magical trees. He didn’t want them to get ideas. The simple change of seasons and their colors on such a magnificent stretch of land as the Barns did his heart and mind good. The company wasn’t bad either.
This particular day, Ronan hadn’t said where they were going, and it didn’t matter to Adam aside from being with Ronan, so he didn’t ask.
When they pulled through the looming wrought iron gates of the cemetery behind St. Agnes, that was when Adam wanted to start asking questions.
Ronan pulled over on the gravel road, leaving room for other cars to get by, but it felt like they were alone before the sprawl of magnificent headstones. He got out without looking at Adam, slamming the door shut and stalking over to a particularly ornate cross with Celtic knots carved into it. Adam took a deep breath through his nose, let it out slowly, then moved to follow him. Ronan hadn’t waited, standing at the grave, reaching out to run his fingers over the inscription. Adam would have sworn he felt each letter across his bones, like braille. Ronan’s expression was unreadable, which meant Adam knew he was hurting.
He slowly spelled Niall T. Lynch with his fingertips.
Adam took his other hand immediately.
This seemed like a good time to say something. Adam’s family had consisted of a tiny trailer and one grandmother who sent cards. He’d never had a reason to visit anyone’s grave, he’d never been taken to a cemetery. Was Ronan praying with his eyes open, as he often did on the floor of St. Agnes? Was there some inner monologue happening, like in the movies? Adam squeezed his hand to remind him he wasn’t alone.
Slowly, like coming out of his dreams, Ronan turned his head to look at Adam. “Some date, huh, Parrish?”
Adam laughed before he could stop himself, abrupt and real and probably a bit inappropriate. “Is that what this is?”
“I don’t know what the fuck this is.”
Whatever it was, Adam wasn’t going anywhere. They stood in silence again while he warred with the right thing to say. Maybe there wasn’t one.
“I always thought he’d show up again,” Ronan murmured. “Seemed like something he’d do. Fake his death like the movies, turn it into some kind of hero’s tale to tell Matthew and I before bed. Just come through the front door like nothing ever happened, have some wild story and then make awful jokes about being dead. Things would be normal again.” His gaze on the headstone hardened. “He’s in the ground. He’s not coming back.”
It sounded like he was telling himself more than he was telling Adam.
“Did you go to the funeral?” Adam asked. He could easily envision the scenario either way. A younger, more haunted Ronan in a crisp black suit standing next to fresh, upturned soil. That same younger, more haunted Ronan running as hard as he could in the opposite direction.
“I don’t remember it.” Ronan still stared at the headstone, but he was seeing something much farther beyond. “I know there had to be cops all over the Barns after I — after he died. You don’t just get your brains beaten in everyone up in your shit to find out why.” He ran a hand over his shaved head, huffing out a breath, as if his heart were running from the words coming out of his mouth. “Gansey was there. I’m sure I said stuff. I don’t know. I don’t remember a whole lot from then. I think I was still waiting to wake up. Like it was a nightmare.”
Adam moved closer, pressing up against Ronan so he could lay his head on his shoulder. The line between Ronan’s dreams, nightmares and the waking world blurred so much, sometimes even Adam felt like he crossed back and forth over reality and its mirror while wide awake. This was what it was like to be magician and dreamer. There was no way he’d leave Ronan’s side now.
“Sometimes, when I think about it, I see the dad I looked up to. And other times, I see the dad Declan hated. He was a fucking bastard, and I can’t balance that with what I thought while I was a dumb kid. So I need this to be done. I need to stop thinking he’s gonna show up in my life again.”
“You have a different life now,” Adam said, knowing it was finally the right thing. “And you have me.”
“Yeah.”
To anyone else, it sounded dismissive. But Adam knew it wasn’t him Ronan dismissed now. Without letting go of each other’s hands, they turned their backs to the grave of Niall Lynch and headed back to the car. Adam mused that this would probably be the one and only time they came here, and that was okay.
“So,” Adam said, testing the waters as he slid into the passenger seat. “Are we going on the actual date now that you’ve set the mood?”
Ronan paused with the key in the ignition, looking at Adam long enough to make him doubt his words. Then he laughed. Abrupt and real and probably a bit inappropriate. “Yeah, we’ll go on a fucking date, Parrish. Nino’s?”
“Going all out I see. Nino’s it is.”
They left Ronan’s dad where he belonged now, in the ground. Adam once more tangled his fingers with Ronan’s over the gearshift. This was their reality, and Ronan could finally move more freely in it.