Chapter Text
Adam doesn’t speak to Ronan for a week, then two. He doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t even know where to start.
It would turn into a fight if he even tried. He knows that, because the words bubble behind his lips sometimes. Don’t you know what we’ve done for you? Don’t you know you deserve better than this? How could you ruin this chance, you aren’t going to get another one. He doesn’t know if he could keep from saying that. Anger and hurt gnaw at him when he thinks about it.
It’s awkward, of course. Their cell is not large, and they spend a good portion of their time there. Before, they talked, spent time in companionable silence, shared kisses when they knew they could get away with it. Shared more than kisses when they could steal a moment or two for themselves.
Now it’s just empty silence.
The silence gnaws at him, too. What they had before was so good, maybe the best thing Adam’s ever had. He knows that’s sad - he knows anyone else would feel sorry for him, think he’s pathetic that he never felt so wanted and safe until he was locked away with his father’s blood on his hands. But his home was never full of love, only pain and blame, and he never had a chance to create anything else. Not until now.
He doesn’t want to say anything until he knows what to say. He doesn’t understand why Ronan did that, or maybe he does and he just doesn’t want to admit it. It’s too impossible, bigger than it should be, and Adam can’t acknowledge it.
He calls Gansey from the prison phones when he’s able to. By then, Gansey already knows, word passed along by the fancy lawyer he hired. Adam doesn’t know what to say to him, either.
“I can’t believe he would do something like this,” Gansey says, voice full of well-bred indignation. “Well, no. I can, Ronan has always had a talent for destruction, but this? He’s torpedoed his whole future. He’ll be there for years now.”
Adam bites his lip. Gansey is only saying what he’s been thinking, but somehow it doesn’t sit right. “Ronan always does what he wants.”
“He listens sometimes,” Gansey says with a sigh. “Blue says he only listens when he needs to, so I suppose he didn’t think this was one of those times. Henry says he must have found something he thought was more important. But more important than freedom?”
Adam doesn’t really know much about Gansey’s friends. Blue is his girlfriend, he thinks, and Henry is a friend. Or maybe Henry is his boyfriend, and Blue is a friend? It’s confusing, and Adam is too polite to ask, but he always feels a strangely warm glow when Gansey talks about them like Adam knows them. Like Adam is somehow a part of their friend group, the one that includes Ronan too, the one that should have no room for a convicted murderer who grew up in a trailer park.
But Gansey doesn’t care, just like Ronan doesn’t care. It’s never seemed to make any difference to either of them. It’s because of Ronan that Adam has this, friendship he never had the ability to cultivate before.
He misses Ronan. They see each other constantly, but as angry and hurt as Adam still is, he misses the little things. Holding Ronan’s hand. Listening to him put on a parody of Gansey’s rich Virginian accent and read from an outdated history textbook. Knowing that he’s got Adam’s back, no matter what.
The worst part is that Adam is pretty sure the last part is still true. His anger hasn’t changed Ronan’s loyalty.
He sighs, clutching the receiver to his ear, listening to Gansey’s voice on the other end.
“It’s my fault,” he says, not realizing he’s going to say it until it’s out of his mouth. But once it is, he knows it’s true.
“It’s not your fault,” Gansey says, sounding almost offended. “You did what you could to keep him on the right path. It isn’t your fault that he couldn’t keep from lashing out.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Adam says, but he can’t put into words what he did mean. He’s not ready to say it, even if he knows it’s true. He can’t face the reality of Ronan’s feelings for him, the lengths that he would go to. That he did go to.
“Look, Gansey,” he says, cutting off more of Gansey’s anguished wondering over Ronan. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll still look out for him. He’ll be all right, I promise.”
Gansey goes quiet, then. They both breathe for a moment before he speaks again.
“I know,” he says. “And I suppose I can’t be that angry, not when it means he’ll be looking out for you as well.”
And that’s it, really. Adam swallows down a lump in his throat. It’s hard sometimes to accept that anyone out there in the world cares about him. It’s hard to accept that anyone in here does, either.
But they do. Gansey does.
Ronan does.
That night, after the guard passes, Adam slips out of his bed. He crosses the short space between his uncomfortable cot and Ronan’s. Before he can talk himself out of it, he slips into Ronan’s bed, under his blankets.
It’s small, of course. He’s pressed right up against Ronan’s side. At first, Ronan is tense, but there’s no way he didn’t know Adam was coming, and the mere fact that he didn’t stop it means something. After a moment, he relaxes a little and moves over, ceding Adam a little space though they’re still nearly on top of each other.
“Hey,” Ronan says, and he sounds uncertain in a way that Adam rarely hears, a way that hurts his heart for a moment. He did that.
“Hey,” Adam says. He still doesn’t know what to say, he’s still a little angry and a little hurt, but it isn’t boiling right under the surface anymore. He isn’t going to explode, he isn’t going to break everything apart. He’s a Parrish, but he’s not his father. He can be gentle and good. He hasn’t ruined himself yet.
There’s silence. He listens to Ronan breathe and tries to find the right thing to say. Ronan breaks the silence first, in the end.
“Didn’t think you were gonna talk to me again,” Ronan says. It’s too dark to really see, but Adam can feel Ronan’s eyes on him, piercing and cool.
“I can’t just not talk to you,” Adam says. “We live together.”
“We live together?” Ronan says, and there’s something like amusement in his voice, though it’s still laced through with tension and uncertainty. “Should I start saying ‘honey, I’m home’ when I come back in our fucking prison cell?”
Adam elbows him gently. He can’t quantify the relief he feels. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. He didn’t ruin it. “That’s not what I meant, asshole.”
“Yeah,” Ronan says, and there’s some relief in his voice, too. He moves, turning in the small bed, and tentatively settles his arm around Adam’s waist.
Adam lets him. He slides closer, maybe a bare inch, and rests his head against Ronan’s shoulder. He missed this. He wonders if this is enough, if he should say more. If it’s enough to show his combined apology and forgiveness or if he needs to find the words.
Ronan breathes out, his breath ruffling Adam’s hair.
“I wasn’t gonna fucking leave you,” he says.
Adam knows. He figured it out right after it happened, even if he couldn’t admit it to himself. How could he? No one has ever cared about him that much. He never even really thought it was possible. And for Ronan to destroy his only chance at freedom, his ticket out, just to stay with Adam -
How could he believe that something like that could ever happen? But here Ronan is, saying it straight out.
He curls his fingers into the fabric of Ronan’s scratchy prison-issued uniform.
“You’re a dumbass,” he says, and tries not to notice the tightness in his voice, the way it sounds like he’s about to break apart.
He’s not going to. How could he, with Ronan right here, holding his broken pieces together?
All he can do, really, is return that. Hold the pieces of Ronan together, and be there if he ever needs to fall apart.
“Now you’re stuck with me,” Adam says, his voice evening out, though it takes some effort.
“More like you’re stuck with me,” Ronan says. His fingers slide up Adam’s neck, catching on his chin, pulling him into a kiss. It’s not passionate, exactly, but it’s intense and exactly what they both need. Adam holds on to Ronan more strongly, and he feels Ronan’s arm around him tighten too.
There’s a lot that goes unsaid, but only because it doesn’t need to be. They are stuck here together, and it’s what Ronan wanted, and Adam thinks it might be what he wants, too. He wanted freedom for Ronan, still wants that, because Ronan deserves the world - but if this is what Ronan wants, Adam can’t help but be happy.
Things can still happen. Prison is a dangerous place, and they could be transferred or moved or split apart, one of them could get hurt, and Adam’s sentence is still longer than Ronan’s. But for now, they have this. Everything else can happen if it happens, and they’ll deal with it.
They’ve survived this long because of each other, Adam thinks, as much as both of them might sometimes like to pretend otherwise. They’ll survive whatever else comes.
Part of him can’t believe that this place, of all places in the world, is where he’s fallen in love for the first time. The rest of him is only happy that he is loved in return.
He settles against Ronan, feels Ronan settle against him. The warmth of him, the solidity of his body. Adam turns just enough to press another kiss to Ronan’s lips, pure and sincere.
He can’t stay for long. The guard will be by again soon. But for now, he’ll steal what happiness he can.