Adam Parrish (
adamparrish) wrote in
itinere2015-05-31 08:32 pm
Entry tags:
open | i heard that you make old things new; so I give these pieces all to you
Since the arrival of the other three members of their group, Adam had been scarce. He purposefully stayed at work at the garage extra late. The sickness had kind of made it an easy excuse for him to bow out of sleeping in the same bed as Ronan. His erratic presence at the apartment made it easy to avoid actually talking. On June 1st though, after hyposprays and everyone being magically healed, it was the first true test for him and Ronan and Adam failed.
Instead of going home, he stayed at the garage until he couldn't stand the same four walls anymore. Then he went out to the forests of Itinere where the ley lines were. He worked on repairing them for Ronan. At least he could do one thing right, one thing to help. Maybe Ronan would notice he had done this for him. Maybe he wouldn't.
Adam would stay out in the forests way past dark, taking his time, doing what he thought needed to be done. Then he would head back in town to walk through the park, sit on a merry-go-round and push at it with his feet to move it around. The metal squeaked and after a quick trip to the garage, he came back to dismantle and oil the merry-go-round to keep it from squeaking so loudly.
Probably another thing no one would notice. Productive, though. Adam Parrish felt productive and useful... busy, even now at some god awful time in the night or morning. And he supposed that was the point.
Instead of going home, he stayed at the garage until he couldn't stand the same four walls anymore. Then he went out to the forests of Itinere where the ley lines were. He worked on repairing them for Ronan. At least he could do one thing right, one thing to help. Maybe Ronan would notice he had done this for him. Maybe he wouldn't.
Adam would stay out in the forests way past dark, taking his time, doing what he thought needed to be done. Then he would head back in town to walk through the park, sit on a merry-go-round and push at it with his feet to move it around. The metal squeaked and after a quick trip to the garage, he came back to dismantle and oil the merry-go-round to keep it from squeaking so loudly.
Probably another thing no one would notice. Productive, though. Adam Parrish felt productive and useful... busy, even now at some god awful time in the night or morning. And he supposed that was the point.

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He can't say he understands what's going on, not entirely. He knows that there is something going on and something is broken. Not the ley line, not exactly. But something between people.
All that perhaps explains how he ends up here, still wearing his same clothes he'd arrived him, his Aglionby sweater and chinos.
"Hi, Adam."
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"Hey." He says, monosyllabic as ever.
The only thing out of place is that Noah found him out here at this time of the night... or morning, depending on how one was to look at it. Not just anyone would be up or out and about this late. "You're out here way past bedtime." Like they have a bedtime. They don't. This is Adam's attempt at a joke. It falls flat, however. As most things with Adam do.
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"What are you doing?"
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"The merry-go-round was squeaking." That's his explanation. Noah can take that and run with it as for a reason why the entire thing is dismantled.
He continues unscrewing things around the pole in the middle, his hands working efficiently enough, covered in dirt and grease from his day at the garage and then out in the woods working on the ley lines. He fixes things. He's fixing this thing.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
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Noah shrugs a little, coming closer to see what Adam is doing. "I'm not used to living."
That's the best way he knows how to put it. He's used to having a sort of being, but ... not living.
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This is why Adam looks up at Noah with wide, curious eyes. He wonders how Itinere, the ley lines here, are treating Noah. "Living? How is it going?" It, being Noah's experiments of moving away from the ley lines. Adam can't help but be curious over that.
Noah might notice the leather bracelet on Adam's wrist where Noah watches him work. The latitude and longitude on it is the coordinate for Cabeswater. The initials are A P L but the L has been carved in with a different tool than the A and the P, noticeably so.
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To the question, though, he shrugs. So far, he notices no difference no matter where he is. But what that means? He has no idea.
"I still feel solid," he tells Adam, and it's still strange. He even has to go to the bathroom. After seven years of not having to do that, it's weird.
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But then, Noah seems to handle most things well enough. It's one of the things Adam likes about him. He puts up with all the rest of them and their ridiculousness without ever judging any of them. Or if he does judge, he never lets on. At least not yet. Maybe the transition from ghost to human would change that.
Adam is wondering how a place can make people different than what they are in their worlds. And he's wondering if it can fix everything that's messed up about him as it seems to have done with Noah.
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Which, admittedly, isn't something he missed while being dead.
He would argue, though, that his view of the world isn't going to change fundamentally. He doesn't judge because he doesn't like being judged. Whelk had given the impression that he'd liked Noah, though, and look how that turned out.
Noah would just Whelk.
"It's weird," he finally says, of his suddenly-alive status.
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Venus's heels click on the pavement as she walks, but the movement in the park catches her eye and she tightens her grip on her mace canister as she tries to suss out what's going on.
Oh, well, will you look at that. Someone doing nice. Albeit in the middle of the night.
Of course, she was a hooker so she is most certainly not judging.
After a moment's more of watching, she calls out in her adopted Southern drawl, "you all right over there?"
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So when a voice calls out, he isn't entirely surprised. Only a little. And only a little, because not just anyone would call out to a stranger at this hour. Itinere seemed to have good people in it though. Whoever it was must have caught onto that too.
Adam twists to look back at the woman on the sidewalk. "Yeah, I'm..." He gestures to the merry-go-round. "It was squeaking. Loudly." And Adam fixed things, even when he and people around him, are so very broken and beyond his comprehension.
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Venus knows of broken people. Perhaps it is that she too is broken, she and Derek. But what is broken can be fixed.
Or at least the squeaks can be greased.
"Do you need any assistance?" she asks. She's not above helping, you see, even in a mini skirt and high heels.
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But maybe she's right. Generous. That's one good thing. Is one good thing enough to keep Ronan and keep all of his friends? Probably not. His mind is obviously in a tailspin, a dive bomb of emotions.
"I can handle it." It's mostly the mini skirt and heels that makes Adam answer with that. She doesn't look like she's up for getting dirty and greasy, for having grass stains on her pretty skirt.
"Why're y'out so late?" His Henrietta accent came through in that one, the accent that came from the wrong parts of town that he usually tried to hide around anyone Aglionby, including his friends.
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She's also used to getting physically and psychologically dirty and isn't averse to it. So, at the moment, she sits on a picnic bench under a light that may reveal that she is not the most delicate of women. "My job is ... it's not fitting of banker's hours."
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He knows a lot of jobs don't work bankers hours. Hell, he's out here fixing a merry-go-round at whatever god awful hour it was. That was by choice though. But he has no idea what her job might be.
He turns back to the merry-go-round to continue working. "I'm guessing you're not a mechanic."
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Venus chuckles at his question, though, and shakes her head. "No, I am not, though, I suppose it can be argued that I tinker."
Just with bodies and desires rather than with motors and squeaky playground equipment.
"I haven't been in a playground in a dog's age," she says, looking around. She kicks off her heels and pads barefoot over to the swings where she can sit, kick off the dirt and start to fly, just a little. "Is that what you are? A mechanic?"
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"I'm not usually much for playgrounds either." But right now it was providing a safe haven that he needed for the moment.
The grass rustles and he looks up to see her walking barefoot in the grass to the swing set. Instantly, he thinks she's okay. High class people don't normally go walking barefoot in parks around strangers at late night or early morning hours. She seems more down to earth.
"Yeah. I own a garage in town." He looks up to her. "You need somethin' fixed?"
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He's not sure he can actually deal with it when he's well, but he can't stand Adam putting him at a distance either. He wants some fucking answers. He needs to know what's going on in Adam's head. He needs to know what his place in Adam's life is. He hadn't been able to avoid sleeping when he was sick, but the moment he feels better he can't shut his eyes. Insomnia is raging through him and he's pacing the apartment, waiting to see if Adam will show back up. he's also trying to put words to his feelings, trying to put words to what he wants and how much this is ripping him apart. He's beyond grateful that Gansey and Noah (and even Blue) are here, but he hates what it's done to he and Adam. He hates not knowing if he and Adam are ever going to be okay again, so he paces and he scrubs his hands over his head and he screams wordlessly at the walls. He punches holes in the walls and rips apart dream frustrations, things born of his illness and his sleep. By the time he decides he's tired of waiting for Adam it's late (or very early) and Ronan has put away the better part of a six pack of beer.
After hitting up all the usual spots, Ronan catches sight of someone taking apart the merry-go-round at the park. There aren't many people that he knows of that would attempt such a thing so he jerks the car to the curb, bumping it up on the curb as he cuts the engine. He's too drunk to drive, but self-destructive enough not to care. He's lucky that there aren't many cars puttering around the town. He's left the lights on in the car and the slash across the park.
"So that's it? Gansey, Noah and Blue show up and you don't want to have a damn thing to do with me?" He's pissed, but more than that, Ronan is hurt and he's turning all that hurt to destructive anger. 'Fuck you very much, Parrish." Yet, he's still stumbling toward Adam, angry but not striking out toward Adam. It's more like watching something implode in slow motion.
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The way that the BMW had parked has shed light on the area. Of course Ronan left the lights on. There is no battery to drain in a car that Ronan dreamed. The bright lights cast Ronan in a long shadow that gets to Adam before Ronan does.
Ronan's words cut, just they're intended to. And Adam knows he deserves them. Still, he continues to work with his back to Ronan. He doesn't feel like he's in danger. Ronan has been pissed at him before, but Ronan has never hit him. Probably because Ronan has seen first-hand the punching bag that Adam has been for his whole life. Adam knows Ronan is probably itching to hit something though.
"What are we supposed to tell them?" He asks quietly. The tenor of his voice is tight but sad, an impression that says he thinks everything is fucked even if he would never admit to that. He's glad Gansey, Noah and Blue are here. But it still feels like the world he and Ronan built here has been tossed upside-down. Just as his world had been tossed upside-down that day when Ronan had hit Adam's father for hitting Adam. He's still deaf in that ear. But he can hear and feel Ronan just as clearly as ever. "I have no idea what to tell them."
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What was the point in having a dream car that needed gas or had a battery that drained?
No, he's not in danger, but it makes Ronan all the angrier, hurts all the more that Adam won't even look at him. Ronan has hit a lot of things thus far in the night, one of them being a man in a bar. His knuckles are bruised and raw from the fight. There's a brilliant black eye blooming across his skin and his lip is split. He'd made certain to pick someone that could deliver some pain as well as take it. He'd picked the fight, goaded the man into it because he'd needed something to hit, but he'd never hit Adam regardless of the fact that he wants to grab him by his shirt and yank him to his feet. He has seen Adam's father hit him and he doesn't ever want to be Adam's father; he doesn't want to be that sort of man.
At Adam's words, Ronan strikes out, his hand slamming against one of the still attached, metal rails. "The fuck do you think we're supposed to tell them? The damn truth!" he screamed. "You're mine. Why is that so hell-fucking-damn hard, Adam?"
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On top of all of this, there was his idolization of Ronan Lynch. How could someone like Ronan want someone like him? It made no logical sense. Like Ronan was scraping the bottom of barrel when he could be finding someone better in every way. Ronan might not care what people think. But Adam does. He always has. He wishes he were better than he is. He wishes he didn't feel so confused again, as if they were back at square one with Adam unable to reach out as he'd grown accustomed to doing with Ronan lately.
The sound of flesh hitting metal makes Adam jump out of his skin. His entire body tenses, as if bracing himself. It's a reflex. He can't help it. Then, when nothing happens but more of Ronan's angry words, he slowly relaxes again. Well, relaxes back to the mess he was when Ronan had first arrived. Adam is horrible with confrontation, at least, he is when he doesn't have the broken ley lines driving him mad. When the ley lines are too broken, Adam's temper becomes external rather than internal. Right now everything is internal and this confrontation is so hell-fucking-damn hard, as Ronan will say.
Is he Ronan's? Still? Truly? Are they going to hide it? Should they? What will their friends think? Everything in him is itching to hide in Ronan's embrace as if the other is that cubbie hole back at the Barns, a hidden room away from everything, a safe place where Adam doesn't have to deal with all the anxiety his mind is putting him through. He wants to hold Ronan's hand and lean against him and bury his face in his shoulder. But he doesn't. He stays there, hands resuming screwing the pieces of the merry-go-round back together.
"I don't know." He doesn't know why it's so hard. He doesn't know why he can't be more like Ronan. Why is it that he can fix everything but himself when he's the most broken thing he's ever seen? Why is Ronan still here? Can't he see how not worth his time Adam is? Worthless piece of shit, his father had said that so many times.
"I don't know how to be us around them. I don't know what's gonna happen." Finally, he looks up to Ronan, eyes wide and brimming with an anxious emotion. "What's gonna happen?"
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As for all that, Ronan thinks it's crap. He obviously does want him or he wouldn't be here putting himself through this. Contrary to what many people might think, this isn't fun for Ronan. Yes, he enjoys fighting and racing and drinking, but only when they're done for the sake of doing them. His fighting and drinking tonight had been fueled by hurt and he didn't like hurting this way, but again: Adam is worth it, at least to Ronan.
He sees Adam flinch and there's a part of him that hates himself for making Adam flinch, but there's a part of him that doesn't care. Adam did this. Let him get a good look at what he's done. It never occurs to him to actually hit Adam. That would be like hitting Chainsaw or Matthew: a part of his own heart. He wants to protect them, not hurt them which is why Chainsaw is at the apartment. She doesn't need to be out with Ronan when he's like this.
Since when has Ronan hid anything? Dreaming aside. As far as Ronan is concerned, he is still his and he's got no intention of hiding anything. They're friends. Unconditionally accepting things like this is in their job description. Ronan thinks Gansey has known he's gay for years. They accepted Noah even though he's a ghost and Blue despite the very glaring fact that she's a girl. That's what friends do. Will it be weird and awkward for a little while? Probably, but Ronan likes making people awkward in general. Ronan wants him to do all of those things. He wants this fight to be ended that quickly. There wouldn't be any need for words or discussion. If Adam would just wrap his arms around him, they could forget this fight because Ronan Lynch has decided this is precisely the sort of fight he doesn't like.
At Adam's words, Ronan scrubs both hands over his freshly shaven head, hooking his hands behind his neck and pulling hard on it while he listens to Adam, grounding himself in the moment, tamping down that anger. He's still here because he loves him, not that he'll say those words. He's still here because Adam's father was wrong. Yet again. Adam is an amazing boy who can do wonderful things. He's a good person. Cabeswater would have taken him over by now if he weren't.
"It's going to be weird as fuck for a little while and then it'll...just---Christ, Noah's a ghost and we all got okay with that. It was weird for a little while and then it was just Noah. We'll tell them then we'll order pizza and throw Noah out the window. It'll be fucking awesome." His words have an edge. He sounds like he's pleading with Adam, but only if one knows Ronan very well. "I'll tell them they can fucking deal, then we'll let Gansey copy all your notes about this place in his journal. This is not the weirdest fucking thing to ever happen to us, Man."
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He watches Ronan scrub his hands over his face, back over his head. He knows Ronan is feeling that frustration. He knows it's his own fault. Just days ago Ronan was happy with him. Even when he was sick they had a certain air of companionable friendship between them, almost domestic. Look at them now. Adam did this. Adam broke this... thing, this good thing, this relationship between them.
Ronan sounds so sure as he speaks. Adam takes the tiniest bit of comfort in that. If Ronan is sure then everything is the status quo. It's when Ronan starts to question himself that Adam knows he should worry the most. And Adam doesn't miss that slight edge of pleasing to his boyfriend's words. Ronan never does that, not unless he really wants something that might be out of his grasp, like driving the Pig or... or keeping Adam Parrish as a boyfriend, apparently.
Adam turns back to look at the almost reassembled merry-go-round in front of him. He's silent for a long time. Ronan is right. Their being together is not the weirdest thing to ever happen to all of them. Noah is a ghost. Blue is a girl. Ronan is the Greywaren. Adam is the Magician, as Persephone had so often told him.
When he finally speaks, it's with that uncertainty that he had felt when he and Ronan had first started being together in this way, the first kisses and touches and whispers that no one else could hear. "Are you sure you wanna go through all of that for me?" He asks. "Because if you stay sure about it, I can try to stay that way too." Meaning he doesn't want him and Ronan to stop being him and Ronan. He's just not sure how to move forward.
He could piggy back on Ronan's certainty for a long time until his own certainty could stand on its own. Right not as sure as he felt about how he feels for Ronan, it's been wounded by Adam's own thoughts upon the arrival of the others. He needs help.
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Yes, he's frustrated and he's angry and underneath that he's hurt and scared. He's invested in this thing between he and Adam. He's in love, whether he'll admit it or not and Ronan doesn't do heartbroken gracefully. Contrary to popular belief, Ronan does have emotions that aren't anger and when he actually allows himself to feel those emotions, he does so one hundred percent. His friendship with Gansey and Noah are testaments to that. He's not half in love with Adam; doing anything by half isn't worth doing. He's entirely in love with Adam and he's afraid that right now that's all breaking. He doesn't know how he'll survive if that's what it comes to. The correct answer is with a lot of alcohol and self destructiveness.
Ronan is certain because things had been good between them up until a few days ago. He's certain because he's known Gansey since he was a kid. He's certain because Noah forgives him things like throwing him out the window. He's certain because he doesn't make friendships lightly but when he does, he makes good ones that won't be bothered by something like this.
While Adam is silent, Ronan is restless. He shifts his weight, scrubs his hands over his head, runs his fingertips over the stubble on his chin. He fiddles with the St. Christopher's Medal around his neck. He wishes, idly, that he smoked so he'd have something to do with his hands. Waiting silently isn't easy for him, but he gives Adam the space he needs because his life sort of fucking hangs in the balance here.
When Adam speaks, Ronan knows that it's going to be okay. He moves forward, grabbing a handful of Adam's shirt and pulling him to him. "Shut up, Parrish," Ronan says before he kisses him. It's hard and sloppy, a kiss that claims and brands, a kiss that's anything but uncertain.
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And then, just as surely as he had felt that agitation, he felt it dissolve with his words. He felt a relief at that dissolution, some of the tension easing out of him even as he he felt Ronan's hands grabbing the back of his shirt to haul him to his feet.
For a moment he's flailing, not sure what's up or down or left or right. There's a brief terror that he's about to be hit but no... no, this is Ronan. And there are Ronan's lips against his and it feels right and good when he finally starts to kiss him back.
Adam's end of the kiss is desperate and wanting as his index fingers hook in both front belt loops of Ronan's jeans to hold on to him and pull him closer. Adam likes Ronan's belt loops. A way of holding onto him without grasping too tightly or seeming too needy, even though maybe he is. Because he's missed this, kissing Ronan Lynch.
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