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During an average weekday in his life, Ronan Lynch was usually found to be in the same cycle of moods. He woke up miserable with the looming thoughts of Aglionby ruining everything as always, stuffing himself into his school uniform that felt more like a straight jacket than anything resembling normal clothes. Gansey forced him to school most days now, he could only get away with skipping classes the two didn’t share or cutting away after the lunch bell rang and not returning.
School was Ronan Lynch’s hell.
After school, he was chased by a brief but intense feeling of euphoric freedom. If he forced himself to stay at Aglionby until the final bell rang, he was relinquished by his captors to a new man, a man with joy, however brief it was.
“I don’t get it,” Adam told him once, early on in their friendship that was only made so by their shared proximity to Gansey, “It’s not like you’re stupid Lynch. You need at least a B average to stay in this school. You get at least 80 in your classes.”
Adam could never understand, not really. They were both chained to Aglionby, but at least Ronan hadn’t put the collar on himself. “You don’t get it, man,” Ronan supplied easily. “It’s not the same. I know I’m not an idiot. That’s not why Aglionby sucks.”
Adam had just rolled his eyes at him, clearly over and done with this conversation happening. That was fine with Ronan, Adam was ruining his post-Aglionby glow, and he didn’t want to dwell on school.
This day was decidedly not average. It was a February morning, and yet it was pouring rain when Ronan woke up. It was rarely rainy this time of year, especially with the chill in the air, it felt as if his Aglionby misery was evidenced by the weather. He let Gansey force him to class, and by the time he was seated in his first-period Latin class, he felt like he’d been there for hours.
Then Adam walked in.
With a black eye.
Ronan felt the shock of it wave through him. Adam was probably the most straight-edge person he’s ever met. Something about what he knew of Adam Parrish clashed so strongly with the black eye he now sported that Ronan had to blink a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.
Adam kept his head down and sat in his usual spot right in front of Ronan. He sunk down in his seat to kick Adam’s chair leg. He had to do it a few times because Adam seemed intent on ignoring him.
“What?!” He spat out, finally spinning around to face Ronan. His eye looked worse close up. It’d edge was sickly yellow like it was a few days old, and suddenly Adam’s disappearance over the last day made more sense.
“What happened to your eye?” Ronan asked, nodding his head to the offending eye.
“Why do you give a fuck?” Adam said, defensive now more than anything.
“You get in a fight with a math equation or something?” Ronan asked, “Because seriously Parrish what the hell. That looks like it hurts like a bitch.”
“Fuck off,” Adam responded simply, before turning around and promptly ignoring Ronan the rest of class.
Latin was Ronan’s favorite class by far, and it was still awful as the rest of his school day. He liked the language, liked being able to speak something once dead back into the world. Today, he was too distracted by the tension in Adam’s shoulders to even pretend he was paying attention.
As soon as the bell set them free, Ronan quickly maneuvered out of his seat to Adam. He touched his shoulder to get his attention, and Adam flinched like Ronan’s touch burned. His eyes were looking at Ronan, but his gaze was far away. “I’m getting out of here,” Ronan told him, looking again at the rough bruising of his eyes, “You want to come with?”
Adam looks at him, and then away and out the window, biting his lip in thought. “Yeah,” he decides after a moment, “Sure.”
Ronan figured once they were in the car the tension would ebb away. There was always a minute or two of awkward pause between them alone, and Ronan always fought it off as much as he could. His own lingering awkwardness was always towards the direction of his feelings for Adam, and he didn’t feel like touching that with a ten-foot pole.
Usually, they were good with quiet. More times than not they ended up surrounded by it if left to their own devices, free of Gansey’s commentary.
The silence they were in now felt like an uninvited third guest. Well, maybe a fourth, the bruise around Adam’s eye and up the bridge of his nose was really the third.
“Why’d you skip with me?” Ronan asked then, curiosity sudden and untamable. He often asked Adam to skip with him and Adam often said no.
Adam turned to face him, presenting the full extent of his injuries. “I didn’t want Gansey to ask,” Adam admits, voice forcibly calm.
“Seriously, who did you get in a fight with?” Ronan asked, “I’m just curious.”
Adam turned away to face the window again, taking his bruising with him. “Nobody. I fell at work, hit my head on the bench and a wrench fell on me.”
This seemed an elaborate lie to Ronan. If he was really avoiding Gansey over this there was simply no way that story was the truth. Because it was an accident, because it would have been a little funny, because Gansey would have just smiled and said something stupidly Gansey like, Well be more careful next time, okay?
Ronan couldn’t help the scoff that escaped him. Adam turned back to him, eyes mad and challenging. “What?”
“Nothing,” Ronan shrugged, “Just if you are going to lie I would think of something better than a wrench fell on my face.”
Adam shook his head in annoyance. “You don’t have to believe me.”
“Well,” Ronan sighed, “Good. Because I don’t.”
---
It was two weeks after that before Ronan brought it up again. This time he and Adam were studying alone in the main room of Monmouth- well, Adam was studying, Ronan was preoccupied folding a paper plane from his notebook page.
“Catch,” he said quickly before tossing the plane in Adam’s direction.
Adam looked up and reached out on instinct, the side of his shirt lifting as he twisted his body around.
It was a mess.
Ronan saw maybe three inches of skin, and it was still too much. Adam’s usually freckled tan complexion was a mess of purple and red, bruises and broken capillaries and the tender edges that told Ronan it was still fresh.
“Dude what the fuck,” Ronan nearly gasped.
“What? That throw was shit Ronan how was I supposed to-”
“Your torso,” Ronan interrupted, mind one tracked onto this now, “What the fuck happened?”
Adam quickly recovered his position, tugging his shirt down. “What do you mean?”
“Your torso,” Ronan repeats, “Looks like a goddamn nightmare.”
“It’s fine,” Adam told him, “It’s nothing.”
“Bullshit it’s nothing!” Ronan jumped up, and before he could stop himself, reminding himself of personal boundaries, he pulled Adam’s sweater up. The bruising was worse than he thought. It was a central hit and radiated lighter bruising around it. “Adam,” his voice was choked for air, he felt like he was going to be sick, Adam’s rib was probably broken.
“Lynch,” Adam had his eyes closed, his jaw set, he was pissed. “Leave it alone.”
“It looks like someone just kicked you,” Ronan’s voice sounded hysterical, even to his own ears, “Like someone just kicked and kept kicking.”
Adam didn’t say anything, didn’t look at Ronan. His face was aflame with shame and embarrassment, and a fit of brewing anger underneath it all. He didn’t say anything, and Ronan felt unhinged.
“Parrish,” he let out the word with a gasp of air, waited until Adam looked up at him, still furious as ever, “Who did this to you?” His voice was small now, almost pleading that he would have hated himself if it was any other circumstance.
But it was Adam. And someone was hurting him.
“It doesn’t matter,” Adam looked away again, pulling on his sweater even though it was already hiding all the torture.
“The fuck it doesn’t matter!” Ronan yelled, “I will fucking strangle them! Who the fuck did this to you?!”
Adam stood now too, looking directly in Ronan’s eyes even with their slight difference in height, “You can’t stop him.”
Ronan rifled through his mind of all the kids at Aglionby that Adam knew, but even the biggest assholes in the school didn’t work in this situation. Adam stayed out of everyone’s business, Adam was so quiet everywhere he went. Ronan had thought in the beginning that he must have been raised in some kind of fucking library for how little he spoke.
Fuck.
“I will kill him,” Ronan spat then, “I will.”
“You’ll only make it worse,” Adam argued, “It’s not going to get better, not until I leave.”
“Fuck that,” Ronan yelled back, “At this rate, he’ll kill you before that happens!”
“He won’t,” Adam was quiet now, detached, “He hasn’t yet, he would have by now if he was going to.”
All the fight left Ronan, he felt deflated, sinking back to the couch, putting his head in his hands. His own father had been distant sometimes, yeah, but Ronan never had to wonder if he was loved. He always knew he was loved. He thought back on all the times Gansey had suddenly clapped Adam on the back, or the few times Ronan had grabbed onto him outside of his line of sight. Adam always flinched, he just thought that Adam was skittish, that he was easy to scare.
Everything rearranged itself in his head.
“Adam,” He spoke again, not noticing how it was the second time in less than an hour that he called him something other than Parrish.
“Don’t tell Gansey,” Adam pleaded, “Please. He’ll make me leave, he’ll call CPS.”
Ronan scoffed, “I have half a mind to call them myself. Adam I-” he swallowed, digesting this all slowly, “At least let me teach you how to box.”
Adam sighed, shaking his head, “Just please keep it to yourself. I’m not stupid I know he’ll figure it out eventually. I just can’t deal with it right now.”
“Parrish,” Ronan cut him off, “Please just-”
The door opened on the floor below, Adam shot Ronan a pleading look.
Ronan really wished he was detached from Adam enough to save him from himself. But he knew at the end of the day he was going to do whatever Adam asked him to do. He was doomed, maybe they both were. He just gave him a look back before Gansey started to climb the stairs up. “Guys?”
“Up here!” Adam called, voice completely void of any of the harsh emotions Ronan and he was just hurling at each other, masking himself so well. It was a wonder Ronan never noticed it before. Now that he had seen the mask removed, all he could notice was how crooked it sat in place.
Adam quickly sat back down in front of his notebook before Gansey could reach them. “Ha! Adam, I feel like I am witness to a miracle right now,” he nodded to Ronan, “How’d you get him to open a book?”
Ronan looked down to the coffee table and saw he was sitting in front of Adam’s open science textbook. He swallowed and shrugged, “I’m full of surprises.” His voice still sounded off, but it was close enough that Gansey- ever preoccupied in his own thoughts- didn’t seem to notice.
Gansey laughed as he put his bag down, turning to look at the pair on the couch finally. “Well, this afternoon has been a crushing blow to my expectations.”
Yeah , Ronan thought, crushing blows.
Adam gave him another look, this one less obvious in its pleading. Ronan Lynch never lied, but apparently, he would for Adam. “Parrish was just showing me some shit he wrote in Latin earlier. Needed me to look over it and make sure it wasn’t broken .” His emphasis seemed to get through to Adam, but Gansey just stood confused.
“Alrighty then,” Gansey sounded weary, “Well, whatever gets him working I guess,” he laughed that ‘this is awkward but I’m laughing to clear the air’ laughs and sat down across from them.
“Ronan’s better at Latin so you know,” Adam shrugged, “I get too caught up in the grammar. Ronan is better at just letting it go .” Ronan caught Adam’s meaning, and thoroughly disagreed with its intended message. But he would go along with it, at least for now.
“I’m sensing there was some sort of fight,” Gansey spoke, always the peacemaker of the three of them.
“No,” Ronan shook his head, “No fighting.”
None at all.
Just injustice and punishments all around.
Just my world falling apart that much more.
Just my heart breaking open.