an anchor's just a coffin nail waiting for that hammer drop.

[nightmarist]

Who: Ronan Lynch & OPEN
When: Shortly after this
Where: The Medical Tent
What: Ronan is in recovery and under observation following a suicide attempt.
Warnings: References to self-harm, both in game and in canon. Descriptions of gore.

[Ronan isn't sure if it's been hours or days since Andyr found him and brought him to safety. He thinks he's been sedated, but then again, it might simply be the effects of blood loss or shock. Or both. Or all. Every now and then, his vision goes black and he drifts off. Then his eyes are open again, and if anything's changed about his surroundings, he hasn't noticed.

He doesn't dream. When he closes his eyes, all he sees is the body. Adam's mutilated face, his teeth gleaming white in the gaping hole that was his cheek, blood congealing on his lifeless skin.

Ronan hasn't cried yet, which is probably an unhealthy sign. He didn't cry when he found his father, either. And he didn't cry after Noah found him bleeding out, after he was brought to the hospital all those months ago and sat for hours detailing his trauma with the staff of the psychiatric unit. Ronan is emotional right up until it matters, and then it all collapses inward, and his face becomes stone. This means that he's broken, he knows. No one says it out loud, but he's very good at reading their eyes, and he knows that his reaction is the wrong one.

There are straps bound around his arms, over his bandages. They've restrained him more securely than they restrained Kavinsky a little over a week ago. That means they think he'll do it again. If he could explain, maybe he could make them understand there's no point in trying again. That, however, would require an explanation of dream thievery, and how it came to be that Kavinsky created Adam's corpse while Adam himself was and is still alive. Since Ronan can't say that, the staff can only assume he's insane.

They aren't necessarily wrong about that. But the only person he wants to kill now is Kavinsky.]

Comments

[deconstruct]

[ cracking. the fuck. up. it probably says something that andyr rarely ever laughs this much around anyone else but ronan. perhaps jesse is next in line of that. ]

Hey, I've been on a fucking diet for the last six years. I had to eat fucking kale every goddamn day. Do you know how freaking nasty kale is?

[ his kale hatred is a fierce thing, okay, he almost hates it more than he hates doctors. ]

[nightmarist]

[It's Ronan's greatest joy to entertain the people he loves, and he looks immensely pleased by Andyr's laughter.]

Nope. I survive on a diet of beer and pizza, and there's no one to stop me.

[deconstruct]

Damn, how are you not a sumo wrestler already?

[ probably because he's a teenager and his metabolism is still golden. That and andyr expects he's more active than he says. ]

Whatever, since showing up here I've been trying my best to live on soda, chips and cheese sticks.

[nightmarist]

And it shows.

[He gives Andyr's tummy a playful slap. It is, of course, a beautiful and rock-hard tummy, and Ronan wishes his mouth was on it right now, but... Too bad!]

[deconstruct]

Does it?

[ andyr tugs his shirt up, grabbing at the skin over his abs to see how much fat is actually there. Unsurprisingly, next to nothing. ]

Good. I want them to have to roll me back through the Ingress. When the doctors on the other side get me maybe they'll just be like 'he's way too fat to make soldiers out of now, may as well send him home.'

[nightmarist]

The perfect plan.

[Ronan lays his cheek back down on Andyr's shoulder, and this - conveniently - gives him a rather nice view of Andyr's abs. He sighs without realizing it, an almost wistful sound.]

[deconstruct]

I know. [ andyr sighs, dropping his shirt back down, but lifting a hand to stroke over Ronan's cheek, while his head tilts to lean against Ronan's at his shoulder, a gesture too fond to really be meant innocently, at least as far as gestures that come from andyr go. ]

I'm an evil, fat genius.

[nightmarist]

[About now is the time to gently dissuade Andyr, to pull away, to disentangle their legs. Instead, Ronan doesn't move. His eyes shut and he simply enjoys Andyr's touch, his closeness and his company. It's good to be alive. It's strange how quickly he'd forgotten how good it could be.]

[deconstruct]

[ at least he won't be trying to get any more physical with him than cuddling, as much as he may want to. He'd gone a long time without any kind of romantic touching, he can go a little longer. Despite how surprisingly difficult the urge is now, changed just by having Ronan near and knowing how much he wants him. To most observers, this could probably be passed off as a very close friendship, just happy to have an injured loved one feeling better, and though that is true, the both of them know there's more to it.

And yet, andyr isn't bothered by letting it be interpreted as less. His thumb just stroke soft paths across his cheek, and lets out a soft sigh. ]

Should get some rest. Heal.

[nightmarist]

[Ronan doesn't open his eyes.]

I'm resting just fine.

[He's comfortable here, even with his body twisted around Andyr and contorted to fit on the too-small bed. He doesn't want anything to change. He doesn't know if there will be a next time, another opportunity to be held by Andyr like this.]

[deconstruct]

[ he's in trouble, andyr thinks, as he watches ronan's face, contented and unwilling to budge from where he's curled up against him, and he can't help but feel so damn fond of this boy. god, how did this even happen? ]

Just don't start bitching when you cramp up.

[ but andyr isn't moving him at all, only moving his arm to support ronan's back, letting him lean more comfortably. ]

[nightmarist]

Joke's on you. Everything already hurts anyway.

[At least, to a certain extent. The painkillers are certainly helping. Ronan nuzzles into the crook of Andyr's neck. They're both in trouble, but this isn't wrong. Technically.]

[deconstruct]

[ they haven't crossed a line yet, not a damning one, though they're certainly suspect with how they're arranged now. but this is something that can go without comment, just a quiet balm for the ache they're sharing, one andyr really isn't sure how to name, only that it's there. ]

Bitch, bitch, bitch. [ andyr's saying in mock exasperation, his chin lifting to settle on top of ronan's head as he nuzzles against his neck, the smile on his lips too telling, and the arm at his back giving him a gentle squeeze. ] Maybe your drug bag needs a little more kick.

[ by which he means the IV. ]

[nightmarist]

[Faintly scandalized:]

Are you suggesting I get high?

[Of course, Ronan isn't scandalized at all. Andyr can hear the smirk in his voice, if not see it on his face.]

I'll take whatever dope I can get.

[deconstruct]

[ this little shit right here. while andyr hates being under any kind of drug high, he's hardly disapproving of it for others that haven't had it ruined for them, and besides, ronan's already clearly been approved for a morphine drip, so why not? ]

Just a liiittle more, no one's gonna know.

[ and he does mean a little bit, because he's not interested in OD'ing his friend right after they saved him from an accidental suicide. reaching up to the stand, andyr turns the valve on the tube just a little, letting more of the drug flow for a moment or so, before setting it back to where it was. ]