Gansey (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
affection_for_research) wrote2019-04-06 04:25 pm
affection_for_research) wrote2019-04-06 04:25 pmEntry tags:
Open Post and Meme Overflow
Open Post and Meme Overflow
affection_for_research) wrote2019-04-06 04:25 pm
no subject
He'd fielded calls from his mother, settling the details of their visit for graduation, failing to avoiding the gentle reproves over his decision to take a gap year. He couldn't tell her why. He could barely explain it to himself let alone his parents who thought magic was a hobby, a fantasy that came from reading too many legends at a young age.
Eventually, he'd had to leave Monmouth and Henrietta behind, driving aimlessness until he wasn't, guided by something that takes him to a pretty little corner of Virginia that he knew had literally been magic. He knows that he should be careful. Hornets and snakes and other unpleasant things lurked in the grass, but he knows nothing here will hurt him.
He wanders away from the Pig until he finds the right spot, spreading an old tattered blanket that he'd picked up in a thrift store on the ground beneath a tree that's a ghost of what Cabeswater had been. He spends most of the day lazing in the shade dappled sunlight, feeling the roots of the land beneath his back and the peace of the sky seeping into his bones. It's one of the few times that he doesn't have to hide, to pretend everything is normal and nothing had changed. The walls could slip away and he could just exist within himself and outside of himself.
Sometime during the afternoon he felt something worrisome. Taking a slow breath, he thought of soft, cool leaves and the welcoming presence Cabeswater had had in the early days. It isn't directed toward himself. Gansey isn't certain where that thought or spell or whatever is is had went but he had the odd feeling that it's needed somewhere.
He stays there until the air cools, the sky shading toward twilight, almost unmoving except occasionally sipping from a bottle of water beside him. When he hears a car creeping toward the Pig, he at first, assumes it's Ronan, but the engine doesn't have the same tone as the BMW. He also feels something different - something he tries not to think about - than what he'd sense if Ronan was near.
Adam.
He knows it even before the Hondayota is in sight, his heart tripping strangely before something velvety and green brushes against his thoughts. Watching Adam move toward him, he isn't sure if he should be happy to see one of his best friends or feel something akin to dread. The box from Nino's and the cups give no clue to the reason for this visit. They're so foreign to Adam who saves every penny that he can't really comprehend Adam buying food for himself let alone both of them. He still manages to smile despite his confusion, the greenness feeling almost eager in the back of his mind.]
Hey. I didn't expect anyone to... [Find me.] Be out here this late.
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Just got off work, so the night's not that late yet.
[And a surprisingly pleasant one- a little cool compared to the heat of the day, these warm Virginia summers. He sets out the pizza box for them, holding one of the cups out to Gansey. He's quiet, trying to find the words. He can think of all of the things that he doesn't want to say, but that just leaves the quiet stretching between them for what feels like too long.]
[He starts slow, a little unsure. Because they don't have these sort of conversations, the ones in soft words about what they want, what something feels like. They always just turned into fights. So they've never been the sort of friends where they talk out their fights, apologize and understand what went wrong. It was always just moving forward. And this isn't a fight, there isn't even really a fight here to have, aside from Adam against the world, and Gansey's inability to not get caught in the threads of it. He fidgets with the cup in his hand, slender fingers against the white styrofoam.]
I used to attune myself when we went in. So I could make sure we found our way back to the right time and place... That's how I found you.
[Adam's never been good at talking around something, he says it or he doesn't. But acknowledging that it was stupid to worry about what his friends gave him, meant realizing there were points where he'd been unkind, when all Gansey ever offered was truth. But Adam could only see uncertainty, something that could be taken away. But it makes this feel fraught; because they both know he would have reacted badly in the past. That not so very long ago this would have been his worst nightmare, would have been everything he'd tried to escape. And Adam doesn't know how to articulate the difference.
So instead of trying, he sticks to the part of it that feels important, what he thinks is probably the part Gansey needs to hear first.]
I think- it should be okay. But I wanted to talk. Since I wasn't sure if you could feel it too.
[The idea that they can talk about something this big and not have it spin into a fight still feels naive. It feels like Adam should know better. But he's not angry about it, not once he worked through it. But they have a long road behind them of things that shouldn't have been said, things they never really apologized for or took back.]
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[It still feels awkward and strange. Cabeswater should be surrounding them, welcoming them. They should be caught in daydream drifts of leaves or flower petals. Or heading home after a day spent in Cabeswater's splendor. They shouldn't be under a perfectly normal tree looking out at a field and the evening sky. The fact that it's gone causes an ache that Gansey's not certain will ever go away.
Even after months of trying to accept what happened, he can't quite understand why they'd made the bargain. Why they'd traded Cabeswater's magic for his life. To him, it's a poor bargain, one that they'll probably eventually regret.
He takes the cup, not quite sure what to think of an Adam that offers food and drink like money isn't always a struggle, like it isn't always a sticking point that causes arguments.]
Thank you. I think I may have skipped a few meals today.
[Sometimes it's easier to remember than others. In the past, he'd been absentminded about such things when Ronan wasn't around, the quest distracting him. Now he finds himself slipping into odd loops of time that made things like lunch seem unimportant.
He's still trying to puzzle through the idea of Adam offering food, the bargain, the whys of his friends trading a miracle for his life when Adam speaks. The explanation of how they'd found their way back to the correct time and place makes sense. It's something that Gansey had thought might be how they kept from becoming truly lost, but the rest doesn't fit the context of the expected conversation. How could Adam attuning himself to Cabeswater help him find Gansey?]
I don't understand.
[He keeps the words neutral, afraid that if they have too much weight, Adam will become angry.]
I don't mind talking, but I'm not certain of the topic we're discussing. What am I supposed to feel?
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He'd thought it was semantics; it had worked, the way they'd made it work didn't really matter, did it?]
Cabeswater couldn't die for you, you know.
[The words are simple, and unerringly true. He takes a drink through his straw, trying to think of how best to explain so it'll make sense. He doesn't think that Gansey needs the details, the way that Adam understood the process. He'd seen the connections, but he hadn't asked the right questions. Once Gansey understands, he could probably ask Cabeswater for the pieces he's missing.]
It's what Ronan asked it for, but Cabeswater creates, it makes things. It couldn't just die like Noah did.
[Not to mention that a forest like Cabeswater, living and dying, was not the same as a mortal life. It wasn't a sacrifice that could be given for that sort of ritual. The magic strange and powerful and particular, like a lock with the wrong sort of key.]
I asked what was possible, tried to show it what we needed, and the answer was that Cabeswater could distill its magic down into a body small enough for you. It could make itself human-shaped. It wasn't really resurrection, so much as that it gave you a different form to wear.
[He quiets then, gives Gansey a moment to process it as he sips at his drink, waits to see what questions follow. He isn't quite sure how I never mentioned it to anyone, but technically you're a magic forest now ranks in terms of strange revelations. Did it make sense of things, did it make it worse, did Gansey realize yet where this was going, what it was that Adam needed to talk to him about?
And the truth is that this isn't an easy subject for him, either. Remembering that night, the way they'd all lost so much. He thought that he'd lost his magic, the love that came with it, and now.. there are things he doesn't understand too. But there are connections here, things he can relearn, or reshape. Maybe that's something Adam and Gansey have needed for a while now.]
no subject
He tries to tell himself that whatever Adam is talking about can't be too bad if he's calmly drinking icede tea and had brought food. Or it was that bad because Adam, who doesn't offer gifts or food, had brought him dinner.]
I still can't quite imagine Ronan asking...
[But the thought slides away as Adam continues. Gansey careful sets down his tea away from himself as the explanation continues. Phrases catch in his consciousness, causing the cold to get sharper, more real. Perhaps more real than he is now. Human shaped. Not a resurrection.
A different form to wear.
Slowly the connections collide. Magic distilled into a body. Human shaped but not human. He's not human anymore. If he isn't, what is he?
The soft, green part of himself - the new part of himself that he's been hiding - brushes against his thoughts and he shies away, barely keeping from physically flinching. Not human. If he's not human, what is he? Not anything that he's studied or seen before.
Something tremulous starts in his mind, in his chest, along his spine. Gansey begins rubbing the back of his left ear, the sensation of something wrong crawling along his arms. He knows the signs, what they mean, and stares at the Pig until it blurs slightly around the edges, but he keeps his focus on it while he breathes out slowly. The Pig isn't exactly real either, but it's his and it's so familiar that it can help him with the sensations that commonly precede one of his fits.
One of his most neutral masks falls into place. The one he uses around the most horrible of his mother's supporters. The one that rarely ever cracks or lifts without Gansey's determination to be the version of himself that lives in Henrietta instead of the one forced to exist in DC.]
I appreciate you telling me. [The phrase is measured, carefully controlled so none of what he's feeling leaks into his voice.] Do the others know?
no subject
Under the circumstances the fact of Gansey in that perfectly neutral tone that's stripped of everything about the other boy that made him so wonderful is almost intolerable. He knows why it's happening, knows what it means with the way that his fingers had rubbed against his ear, and he's just trying to pull him back. For both of their sakes.
Adam can't help being frustrated for not knowing how to do this with more grace, for not having Gansey's talent for this. He's been watching him for more than two years now, and Adam was never this slow a learner with anything else. But the charm, the ease with which he skates people around sentiments they dislike and has them smiling like it's a favor- he almost thinks it must be genetic, for how often he fails to grasp the lesson.
But he doesn't let go of Gansey's hand, thinks of comfort, like maybe the intention is enough. He doesn't want to scare him, not like it had scared him at Boyd's garage. But the way Adam spoke to Cabeswater had been more true than words, and with Gansey they so often tangled on the things they say in moments like these.]
Gansey.
[A weight to how he says his name, trying to draw his attention. It feels like forever ago, a different world- Adam sneaking the phone into his room to call Gansey after his parents were asleep to talk about something he'd found or their plans for tomorrow. Sometimes the other boy was vibrant and alive and regal, and then sometimes his moods would turn toward panic. As if sometimes in the middle of the night, it reminded Gansey of where his quest started. It had been a long time since Adam had talked him through something like this, and he's not sure he remembers how.
He shakes his head at the question, and when he speak again his voice is the familiar tone of friends, the way his accent seeps into his voice when he's careless; trying to pull at the other Gansey without flinching from this one.] No. I didn't.. I had though it was just details. We had you back, what else mattered?
[There's a slight curl of his lips at the words. Because oh, how much he'd missed, overlooked in his certainty that he'd be nothing without Cabeswater. As if Persephone hadn't told him before that being the Magician was about connections, not the power. All of a sudden he thinks that this might be too much for Gansey, the bargain. As if Adam would be asking for another piece of him when Gansey seemed to already feel like he's lost something. So he just stays quiet, tries to give Gansey a moment to catch his breath, even as doubt pricks at him.]
no subject
The buzzing gets louder, competing with the pounding of his heart. His heart that might not even be real. That kicks it harder against his ribs, until his breathing turns ragged and he's moving closer to the edge of one of his episodes.
Until he feels something. Calm. It isn't an order, but it's more solid than a suggestion. It pulls him back enough that he doesn't fall into one of his screaming fits. His breathing is still too rushed but he isn't going to embarrass himself like he had in London.
He still doesn't know how to process it. He's alive, but is he truly Gansey? Is he some Gansey shaped thing? Is he just a wish given by Cabeswater to its Magician and Dreamer? Maybe he's a dream like Aurora. Would that be so bad? Would it be better than being a forest-thing?
His fingers tighten around Adam's as he gets more and more lost in his internal questions. If he's not careful he'll get so turned around that he'll start losing time again.
He fights against the pull of time and springlike green when Adam speaks again, his accent more pronounced. It snaps him out of the strange time loop he'd been about to traverse.
The question should be one that's easily answered, but Gansey can't figure out if there is a simple answer. It shouldn't matter, but it does. It matters that he's no longer human. That he's a creation, not a person. Why doesn't it matter to Adam?]
It should matter that I'm not human. [He's surprised that his tone is mild, not revealing the turmoil that had him still perilously close to another attack.] That I'm not me anymore. How could it not matter?