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Ronan was trying not to spiral but three things were true. In spite of being an asshole, Adam was chronically polite, lateness is generally considered impolite, and it was nearly an hour after he was supposed to be at the Barns. He shot Adam a text.
Are you ditching me Parrish?
He’d had the whole evening planned out, his attempt at dinner was in the oven and fresh sheets were on the bed. Adam had a long weekend off from college and had decided to spend it visiting Ronan at the Barns. They had discussed going for a hike in the state park that ran along the ley line. It was nice to think of exploring the place without a mysterious quest and complicated magic hanging over their heads. Very rarely was their relationship not surrounded by some supernatural peril. Sometimes it was nice to pretend they were something else. Something a lot simpler than a dreamer and his ex-sentient-forest-magician; just two bastards in love.
Now he was an hour and fifteen minutes late.
It was a long ride from Cambridge to the Barns on his motorcycle. Traffic was not uncommon, but this was out of the ordinary. The weather had said it was snowing in Massachusetts. Why neither of them had considered this as a potential issue was beyond Ronan at this point.
He was pacing. He was fucking pacing. This was ridiculous.
Opal misses you. I was thinking about letting her live with you next semester. Say nothing if you agree
Ronan told himself he’d wait for the casserole he’d cooked to finish before he went out looking for him. He was being crazy. What was he even supposed to do? Drive up and down the interstate until he saw his motorcycle?
I guess the runt’s your problem then
I’m bored hurry up
Your dinner’s getting cold
Before an answer to his text came, Ronan’s phone rang. It was Adam’s contact on the caller ID, he answered it instantly.
“What the fuck Parrish?” he snapped into the speaker.
The voice on the other line was female, detached, and professional, “Hello? Is this Ronan Lynch?”
“Yeah,” he stammered, taken aback by the unfamiliar voice on phone.
“I’m calling you because you are listed as Mr. Parrish’s emergency contact. He was in an accident.”
An accident.
Ronan’s vision narrowed to a pinhole. He felt like he’d taken an unexpected hit to the gut. The wind was knocked from his lungs. This was something that only happened in dreams, to a dream Adam, who left nothing behind but a bloody t-shirt, fabricated by Ronan’s mind. He could picture it a thousand different ways but they all ended with the same thing, Adam’s lifeless body, mangled by machinery.
The words felt far far away, like she was speaking through a tunnel, “A car cut him off and he had to swerve off the road. He was thrown off the bike before the car behind plowed into it. He’s at Saint Andrew’s—”
That was all he needed to hear. He hung up the phone, grabbed his keys and made for the BMW. Ronan slammed his car door shut and stomped on the gas. He drove in silence, exceeding the speed limit by a minimum of 20mph the whole way there. He swerved around honking cars and cut off pedestrians. Fuck that. Fuck everything. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that something had happened to Adam and he couldn’t do anything.
He left his car in the drop-off lane at the entrance to the emergency room, a nurse wheeling a patient out to his car gave him a suspicious look as Ronan made a beeline for the front desk.
“Adam Parrish,” Ronan blurted out at the startled secretary.
The secretary, a lanky pimply young man looked up at Ronan, and was suddenly very grateful to be contained by the barricade of his desk. In this state, Ronan was quite a sight. His razor blade mouth snarling, brows knit hiding the panic his haggard voice and heavy breathing couldn’t conceal so well. Most emotions just looked like anger when Ronan wore them. On a good day, Ronan’s appearance had the effect of a Pitt Bull. Looming over the secretary, in an absolute frenzy, he had the effect a Great White shark on cocaine might have. A live wire of very sharp very unpredictable force ready to snap at anything in its path.
“Pardon?” Replied the secretary with an audible gulp.
“Adam Parrish. What room is Adam Parrish in?”
The secretary pulled out a form and a hospital branded pen, “For visitors, we require sign in and you must be approved by the guest before you can enter.”
“I’m his boyfriend, I’m going to see him.”
“If your his emergency contact, I’ll just need an ID to confirm your—”
“Do I look like I have a fucking ID on me?”
“Sorry but the uh—our policy—”
“Give me his fucking room number,” Ronan said, his voice sharp and even like a sword perfectly balanced to strike, eyes piercing piercing into the poor secretary like they were ready to finish the job.
His eyes darted around nervously, as if to make sure he wouldn’t be caught, “He’s in 112 in the emergency ward,” he whispered.
Ronan nodded with satisfaction, “Good man,” he said as he left leaving the startled secretary in his wake.
Following the signs to the emergency department, he made his way to the 100’s rooms. He sprinted down the long hallway.
The door was closed when he found it. For a split second he braced himself for what he might find on the other side. As long as his heart was beating it would be fine. He would be fine. He opened the door.
On sterile white sheets, was Adam in a hospital gown. His right arm was bandage wrapped and held across his chest in a sling, his other arm was extended off the bed limply, facing outward with an IV line installed. His right cheek was raw and red and had clearly been bleeding. He opened his eyes slowly at the sound of the door but had no other reaction.
“Good afternoon.” A nurse approached Ronan, “We weren’t notified that Mr. Parrish had any visitors yet. Can I ask your name and we can get you checked in?”
Ronan ignored her and stepped toward the bed, only then did Adam seem to register his presence.
“Oh,” breathed Adam. His eyes were hazy and his expression of recognition came slow, as if he was a few seconds behind reality. “My Ronan,” His face lit up with a stupid smile.
A matching smile flickered across Ronan’s face before he automatically disguised it, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“What?” His voice came slow and airy.
“I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”
“Right,” he looked down at his arm, seeming to remember he was injured. “But I’m okay now. Come here.”
Ronan sat on the edge of the bed. “You’re clearly not okay idiot.”
“I’m good. I actually feel amazing after they gave me those meds,” he sounded out each syllable in ‘amazing’. His gaze at Ronan was empty. No thoughts behind his eyes just a lazy pleasant buzz. “I’m so happy you’re here.”
This was far from the Adam he knew. He would have expected him to be profusely apologizing for the inconvenience, for worrying him, for making him drive out here.
Normal Adam would have preferred Ronan not to come to the hospital at all. He would have been spiraling about how he would get his homework done, how he would replace his bike, how he would pay for all of this. It was strange for things to be this simple with Adam. Seeing him let go of his overthinking was a rare and incredibly intimate thing. It was a side of him that rarely came out and it was always only for Ronan.
Adam took Ronan’s hand in his good one, pressing his cheek to it. He looked up at Ronan and kissed his hand then held it to him, nuzzling his nose against his arm. There was something so natural about the action in Adam’s dazed state. It was like a cat curling up in its person’s lap. Like coming home.
Ronan’s cheeks were hot.
“We should get married,” mumbled Adam, snapping Ronan back to reality.
Shit, Ronan thought. He’s lost it. Maybe he has brain damage.
Ronan tried to tally how many concussions Adam had had in his life. He quickly gave up. It was impossible to speculate how many there were he didn’t know about. But that was a thing right? When you get so many concussions and the damage builds up over time. He could be permanently impaired.
“What wrong with his head?” Ronan turned around and addressed the nurse.
“My head’s pretty damn good, you said so yourself,” Adam mumbled, sinking into the hospital bed petulantly.
If this comment registered to Ronan, it did not show. He was undeterred in his questioning, “Is he concussed?” he asked again.
“He has a moderate concussion from the force of the impact. Luckily he was wearing a helmet. No loss of consciousness. No internal swelling,” replied the nurse from the corner of the room. She was scanning through something on her computer with a troubled expression, an expression that gave Ronan a creeping sense of dread.
It’s bad. It’s bad and they’re not telling me.
Ronan approached the nurse, eyes daring her to explain.
She looked up from the screen, meeting Ronan’s stare. “You’re his emergency contact correct? We spoke on the phone. Ronan Lynch, right?”
“Yeah.”
Glancing back down to check something on the screen, she nodded, “Okay. Is it alright if we step outside and discuss something.”
Ronan’s stomach dropped. Toying furiously with the leather straps on his wrists, he followed her to the hallway.
She opened her mouth to speak.
“How long does he have?” Ronan blurted out.
“What?”
“To live. How long does he have left to live.”
“His injuries were moderate. He will be just fine.”
“You—you said he hit his head. He has a history of concussions. This could be serious.”
“I’ve seen his records,” the statement hung heavy in the air. The broken bones, the head injuries, the hearing loss, the police report.
“Why is he acting like this then? He’s acting fucking weird all lovey dovey and shit.”
“He said you were his boyfriend right?”
Ronan scowled at her.
“I doubt any difference in behavior is from the head injury. He gave him pretty serious pain meds when he came in. His wrist took the brunt of the impact and it’s safe to assume that it’s at least fractured. These meds can cause someone to be a bit out of it or even feel slightly intoxicated. There’s nothing to worry about,” she explained.
Ronan blinked, unconvinced, “Then what did you want to talk about?”
“In the paperwork, there’s no insurance provider listed for Mr. Parrish. Since he’s not really in a state for all this I thought I would let you know that the hospital has several grant programs for patients with financial difficulties,” she held out a flier.
Ronan didn’t move, “Don’t talk money with him. Bill it to me. I’ll give the hospital my information…whatever they need.”
He waved the flier away as he passed her. The nurse stayed in the hallway, giving the two their privacy. Ronan returned to the room to find Adam unconscious. That is to say he was not awake, because the instant Ronan shook him he woke up. Maybe he had slightly overreacted.
A dazed smile broke out on his face again, slowly, just at the sight of Ronan. “Do I look sexy like this?” Adam pointed to his cheek and made a sad attempt at a smolder.
“You look like you got your ass kicked by the pavement.”
“You should see the pavement,” he giggled at his own joke.
“Oh, I’m sure you did a real number on it.”
“I learned from the best,” he extended an arm to Ronan’s. “I wish we could go home. They won’t let me go until the doctor looks at my x-ray,” he leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling and whined deep in his throat. It drove Ronan mad. He glanced away.
“They think it’s broken?”
“Probably,” Adam said simply, as if the possibility didn’t really bother him.
Part of him wanted to ask why the fuck are you so calm about this, but he knew better than to ruin this.
“Lay with me?” asked Adam.
Ronan looked at him, his big colorless eyes were hazy and wanting. His raw cheek was rubbed down to the freckles and he was beautiful in that stupid blue hospital gown that hung of his bony shoulders.
A scene from when they were seventeen flashed in Ronan’s mind. It was 5:00 AM, he’d finally been released from the police station. It took Gansey’s testimony for them to finally believe that Ronan had acted in defense. They un-cuffed him and sent him on his way. Ronan spat at the building as he left and went straight to the hospital.
Adam was in a bed in a room not unlike this one. Gansey told him that he’d blacked out while speaking to the police and they had taken him here in an ambulance. He had to stay the night for observation but the doctors had already determined that he would never hear from his left ear again.
Ronan hated hospitals. Psychiatric hold changes a man, but he stayed for Adam, who didn’t even know he was there but what mattered to him was that Adam wouldn’t be alone that night. It was a brave thing Adam had done. Ronan sat there in the dark watching the line of Adam’s profile and the soft rise and fall of his chest, wondering if Adam had turned in his father to save Ronan or for himself. He supposed it didn’t matter. What mattered was that Adam would never have to spend another night in that place.
It wasn’t the time for it, but Ronan couldn’t help himself but be in awe of Adam. How the thin line of his nose, his sharp jaw, the cut of his Adam’s apple were a black silhouette against the glow of the monitor that displayed his heartbeat. Even the outline of him was beautiful. He looked peaceful. There was no tension in how his thin, long boned arms laid at his sides. He was a miraculous thing. That’d he’d even made it to see seventeen impressed Ronan.
This was the stillest he’d ever seen Adam. Normally Adam was a restless sleeper. He supposed that made sense. Adam never stopped moving. Holding three jobs in high school and maintaining a 4.00, every minute of Adam’s time was maximized to it’s fullest efficiency. Every waking moment Adam Parrish was fighting for his life. Now he could rest.
Ronan had passed the time that night in total reverence, vacillating between prayer to God and admiration of Adam. Each their own form of worship. He pleaded with God for only the best for Adam from here on out and when he’d worked up the courage, he repeated the prayer from the first time he ever saw Adam.
Please.
He wanted to move closer from the chair where he sat. He imagined if this was the Adam from his dreams, the Adam who for some reason felt this same way about him. How he could run his fingers through dream Adam’s hair, hold his hand, his thumb stroking his palm just to say I’m here.
But this wasn’t dream Adam. This was the boy on the bike. The boy who liked Blue. The boy he could never have, so he thought.
Now, all this time later, he was here, laying hip to hip with real Adam in a different hospital bed. No life changing injuries. Just his head resting on Ronan’s shoulder, his nose pressing against his collarbone. Hands clasped together.
“Have I ever told you that I’m madly in love with you?”
“You don’t have to,” Ronan dropped his eyes.
“But it’s the truth,” he pressed his palm into Ronan’s cheek and kissed his nose.
Ronan slid his hand to rest on the back of Adam’s neck. They looked at each other for a long moment. Time didn’t really exist then. It was complete peaceful silence. Ronan could tell from the look in his eyes that this serenity had made it to Adam’s mind too. It was beautiful to see him like this, brows un-furrowed, jaw relaxed, the tightness in his chest that only Ronan could see was gone. It was like he’d seen before, that night in the hospital, but this time he was awake and here with Ronan.
He wanted to stay here forever. How many times had he told Adam to shut up his thoughts. His mind was his own worst enemy. Don’t overthink it. Just enjoy it. He knew it was never that simple for Adam, but just this once it was.
He trailed his thumb gingerly across Ronan’s eyebrow. Then he leaned in and kissed him. Adam smelled like rain and dirt and hospitals but he still tasted like home and kissed like he needed it to survive. Ronan met his lips gently, breaking away every so often to look in his eyes. \
They fell asleep there, Adam’s head on Ronan’s shoulder, tucked against him.
-_-*-_-
Adam woke the next morning with a start, “When did you get here?”
“Last night.”
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah,” he looked as if he was still trying to recall then he shrugged. “You snore really fucking loud.”
“Thanks,” said Ronan flatly.
Adam pushed himself to sit up, shifting his injured arm. He winced.
There was a knock on the door and Ronan shot out of the bed and across the room like a kid getting caught. “Good morning Mr. Parrish. Good news, we’ll be getting you out of here very soon.”
“Good to hear.”
“I didn’t realize you were gonna stay the night,” she addressed Ronan. “I could have brought you a pillow and some blankets.”
Ronan mumbled something like, “It’s fine.”
The nurse moved Adam to another room to get a cast put on while Ronan waited in the hospital room, bored out of his mind. He entertained himself by passing buttons and flipping switches on the various medical devices installed in the room.
When Adam retuned, he was discharged. Once they were making their way back to the barns in the BMW Adam spoke.“That nurse was weird,” he said.
“What’d you mean?”
“She kept saying how sweet a couple we were.”
Ronan rolled his eyes. “Us? Sweet? Never.”
“Did I like say or do something last night when you came? I must have been out of it but still.”
“Nah, just I told you that you were an idiot for riding your motorcycle across the northeast in the snow.”
“What did I say?”
“You told me to go to hell.” He left one hand on the wheel and rested the other on Adam’s thigh.
“Sounds about right,” Adam smiled and everything was still perfect.