Work Text:
Adam still remembered the worst dream he’d ever had.
It was months ago now, probably near the beginning of the summer. In his dream, he was standing on the steps back at the double wide he grew up in.
“I didn’t lie”
He felt the words tumble out of his mouth. This was a memory dream, of the last night he had gone to the trailer as if he was just going home like any other night. Well, not really home. Heading back as if he was going back to the house where he lived. Not really a house even, the trailer, dusty and ugly as if it had emerged from the dirt and dead grass. He took a moment to try and remember what it was like in this moment to hear the crickets in both his ears. To not have to swerve his head or position himself strategically.
“ Do not look in my face and lie to me! ” his father shouted.
And it came. And the dream produced all the same pain and light and sensation of falling, his head landing on the rail, and finally a mouth of dirt on the ground. It was a little different from when he was scrying and didn’t remember to project outwards. But not too different. It was the same memory, just a different format. He began to push himself up like he always did when he replayed the memory over. Then he remembered how this particular memory ended. His head lolled to the other side and looked for the BMW’s brake lights. He could see the tail lights, but the red glow of the brakes weren’t coming on. Why weren’t they coming on? Wasn’t Ronan watching in the rear-view mirror? Adam squinted as they got further and further away. This wasn’t what had happened.
Come back, Ronan .
Looking back at his father as he headed down the steps, he sensed again that he was far from done with this assault. The BMW lights disappeared down the road. This wasn’t how this memory went. It hadn’t happened this way. He got the aching feeling suddenly that tonight, he was going to die. His father was going to hit him or throw him or do something again and he was going to crack his damn skull open. He wouldn’t get to help Gansey search for Glendower, he wouldn’t get to make his deal with Cabeswater or learn he was psychic or become the magician, he wouldn’t get to fall in love with Ronan. He wouldn’t get to walk away from the trailer. He would leave it in a body bag.
Adam wondered if he’d be able to fight for his life the same way Ronan had fought for him. That version of time was slowly slipping from his head. He wanted to fight, he wanted to live. But his whole body felt like it was moving seconds, minutes behind his brain. If he told his arm to throw a punch, how long would it take it to respond? He felt his father haul him up by the collar.
He was probably going to die tonight.
Adam woke up.
He flinched as he did just a little bit. His arm came up to feel his face for damage. He was alive. Sitting up slowly, Adam glanced over at Ronan’s sleeping form beside him. He was at The Barns. It was summer. He had just graduated from Aglionby. He was going to Harvard. He had survived the encounter. It had been over a year now since. Still, he couldn’t help and touch the back of his head, as if he was still going to find his skull caved in. Nothing. Intact head only. Finally he let out the exhale he was holding and layed back down. A moment later Adam turned on his side and stared at Ronan’s head and neck and upper back. He examined the details of Ronan’s tattoo as best he could in the dark. Why had this memory dream been different? Was it just a normal nightmare, or was it some psychic hunch turned nightmare?
It wasn’t the first time Adam had thought he might have died that night if Ronan hadn’t stopped, and he was now of the understanding that his gut feelings actually meant something. Others were looking into the leyline, they were being observed, etc. etc. All feelings he had gotten before he made his sacrifice, all correct. This hunch felt the same. Something overwhelming crawled up his guts and tightened his heart. He pulled his hand up and pressed his palm against Ronan’s shoulder blade, letting his index finger trace a long line of black ink near his spine.
“Shit, Parrish. Your hand is fucking cold.”
The corner of Adam’s mouth quirked and he pulled his hand back. “Sorry. Did I wake you up?”
“Nah.” Ronan rolled onto his back and propped himself up on his elbows. “You good?”
“I’m good.” Adam said, but then added. “Come here.”
They adjusted themselves so Ronan was on his back with an arm wrapped around Adam and hand clutching his wiry arm. The side of Adam’s head pressed into Ronan’s shoulder and Adam wrapped his arm around Ronan’s chest.
“Thank you..” He whispered.
They fell back asleep.
Adam had been sitting in the basement common room of Thayer for hours now. Most currently he was watching Gillian obliterate Fletcher at checkers. He wasn’t fully paying attention though, his mind was on Ronan. It had been on Ronan for weeks. He hadn’t heard from him for weeks. He didn’t want to be sitting here. Adam ignored the looks The Crying Club had been shooting at him. He was too exhausted to fully keep up acting like normal. Not normal. Acting like the lie he had created of himself. His made up persona that made him dislike himself. This is what he had always wanted, he was playing the game. But after a whole summer of just being Adam, he thought maybe he liked the real version of himself better. He couldn’t trust anyone else with it though. Besides, Persephone had told him no one had to know about his past if he didn’t want them to. Although, she hadn’t told him he should lie about it.
Liar.
He had been acting fine enough though, just so they wouldn’t ask too many questions. He had come up with swift lies and easy brush-offs to any they had. But he was exhausted. Every night he was up trying to track Ronan’s movements, trying to scry and meet Ronan in dreamspace when Fletcher was out or even asleep, using the flashlight on his phone camera and hiding under his covers. He hoped Declan was at least getting through to him.
Maybe he should call Declan again, he didn’t want to but maybe–
His phone buzzed once on the table. It was a call. It was a mess of a caller ID. He knew instantly. Adam didn’t let it buzz again and he swiped it off the table.
“Ronan?”
Fletcher and Gillian both looked at him in surprise. Adam resented being there. He got up and quickly left the common room through a backdoor that led outside. It was cold, and he wasn’t wearing a jacket but he didn’t care.
“Why didn’t you text back?” Ronan asked immediately.
Adam closed the door behind him and wrapped one arm around himself in a sad attempt to shield himself from the cold. His eyebrows pinched together as he tried to sort through the onslaught of emotions running through him. He was angry that those were Ronan’s first words to him after weeks. He was relieved that Ronan was okay. He was scared by the tone of Ronan’s voice.
“I was on a motorcycle. Then I was taking an exam. Then I was probably, I don’t know, sleeping. I don’t remember. I came to see you. I was making time best I could. It wasn’t that long, I did text you back.. How could I know that you were going to ditch your phone? Ronan, you didn’t call. ” He closed his eyes tight and leaned against the cold brick of Thayer. It all vividly came back to him. His own wall of text, then “Alter Idem.” marked unread. Calls going unanswered. Having to obtain government documents to get even a hint at where his boyfriend was and what was going on. Did Ronan not think he cared because he hadn’t checked his phone for a day?
“I’m calling now.” Was all Ronan said.
Adam took in a sharp breath. He felt something fracture inside his chest. “I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know what you were doing, if you were even alive. I didn’t know if we were… if it.. what..” He felt his sentences shaking apart. He felt himself shaking apart.
“I’m calling now” Ronan repeated. “I need to see you.”
“You’re here?” Adam looked up as if he’d see Ronan emerging from somewhere. Ronan was here? “Oh.”
He suddenly remembered his and Declan’s discussion again. Did that mean Ronan wasn’t with Bryde anymore, if he was coming here? He had a lot of suspicions about Bryde, he was pretty sure a lot of them were right. None of them were good. All of them ended with Ronan getting hurt. The smidge of hope that Bryde might be out of the picture now was quickly flattened out when Ronan spoke again.
“Can you let us lie low for a few hours while we figure out what’s going on with Hennessy?”
No, then. Bryde was not out of the picture. His stomach churned. He got the feeling Ronan was only calling him now because he needed this from him and not because he wanted to call him. He was a last resort call.
“Who’s us?”
“Me and Bryde. They have– they have Hennessy, I think.”
After weeks, Ronan was calling to use him for a safeplace. He didn’t care though, at least he had finally called. Ronan wasn’t in his right state of mind so he brushed off the offense he felt. He had to. “You can come lie low.” He said, then clarified. “ You. ” Screw the papers he signed, he’d figure that out later. If he could just convince Ronan to come alone, for him.
“How big of a douche do you think I am?” Ronan retorted.
Come here, Ronan.
“The Lace is afraid of him, Ronan. I am too. Let him take this heat.”
The other line was quiet for a long moment, and he could hear the background noise of the car he must be in. Adam knew Ronan was angry. “Ronan,” Adam started, wanting to start explaining before the worst assumption possible was quickly made. “You know what I’m saying is true. You know what's going on here. If you think about it, you have to—”
The background noise from the car went silent. Adam pulled his phone away from his ear and saw Ronan had hung up on him. “Damn it Ronan.. Damn it..” He let out a shuddered breath and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, gripping just above his ears with his thumbs for a moment, his fingers on one hand looped around his phone. After a long moment he slowly pulled his hands away after a vibration against his forehead brought him back from thought. Fletcher had texted him asking him what was going on.
What was going on was his boyfriend was being led on some industrial espionage to wake up every goddamn nightmare on the planet cult tour and he had just lost what might have been his only opportunity to get him to come back. If he could just get Ronan back, they could figure it out together somehow. Everything else be damned. Why couldn’t Ronan have just talked to him instead of– He had to keep a steady mind. He thought about how Blue used to talk about being sensible.
He texted Fletcher. I need to be alone for the rest of the day. Sorry. Text me if you need to come back to the dorm. And put his phone in his pocket. He didn’t really care what they assumed it was about.
Taking the long way around the building back to the front as to avoid seeing the others again, Adam made his way back up to his dorm. He closed and locked the door behind him. A call to Declan went unanswered, looking through more documents left him with no answers. He thought about calling Gansey. He tried to call Gansey, but there was no answer. It was the middle of the day, he was probably doing something. After a couple hours of this and pacing and thinking he pulled open his desk drawer and grabbed a candle, lighter, and his haunted tarot deck. He lowered himself down to the floor at the foot of his bed and shuffled his cards. There was some ley energy from the woken line, he could feel it just slightly. He shuffled and shuffled until finally he split the deck in half and picked up the slightly warmed card.
The Tower.
Fire. Fire. Fire.
Adam took a deep breath to keep his cool, which reminded him of Ronan’s smoker breaths. He stacked his deck back face up, with the tower pointing at him. Fire.. destruction.. Something awful about to happen. An overwhelming fear of Ronan and destruction and death pressed into his chest and behind his eyes. He wondered if this was what the Visionaries were seeing.
He had to scry. That was the only option.
Getting back up, Adam closed the blinds and tried to make the room as dark as possible. He sat back down in front of the candle and lit it. He watched the flame.
Fire. Fire. Fire.
It danced in front of his vision, teasing, screaming. Slowly it went out of focus, and he felt his mind detaching itself from his body. He was hesitant to let himself wander too far away from his body, but when he came back the third time he threw caution to the wind. He let his mind wander further and further away, until he felt the lick of heat around him. Ronan... Ronan was somewhere here. He came back. He threw himself back out again farther.
Fire. Fire. Fire.
Farther. Farther. Farther.
Ronan! Ronan!
Adam called for him, but he only caught glimpses of Bryde. Everything felt hot. He could smell smoke. He was smoke, drifting, drifting.
Oh, Ronan, what have you done, he thought miserably. What are you doing?
He kept calling for Ronan all while drifting.
Drifting.