Ronan Lynch (
somnioergosum) wrote in
riverviewlogs2017-11-29 08:04 pm
They say if you die in a dream. you die in real life [open]
who: Ronan Lynch and others
what: After being attacked by his own nightmares, Ronan recovers in the hospital and thinks about how much he hates himself. People come to tell him he’s an idiot or laugh. Who knows.
when: November 19 to late November
where: Riverview hospital
warnings: Self-loathing, references to past suicidal ideation, will update as needed
Not much impressed Ronan and the advanced medical t. The first day, while his stomach healed, he lay in bed viciously chewing on one of his leather wristbands, having thrown the other at the wall. The next few days, when he could bear to stand, he got up and paced and punched a wall before being forced back into bed.
Mostly, he stared at the walls and imagined tearing them apart and he hated. Oh God, did he hate and it was all at himself. He did it again. He did a-fucking-gain. The thoughts ran through his mind in a spiral. The last time this happened, his best friend had been there to question and judge and make him promise. Ronan said that it wouldn’t happen again. He'd meant it.
He lay in bed, gnawing on the leather bracelet like a dog. The hole in the band grew until it began to break into pieces. Only then did he stop, in order to tear it apart. Well, he tried to. What actually happened washe gritted his teeth in pain and snapped the band hard against his bed.
what: After being attacked by his own nightmares, Ronan recovers in the hospital and thinks about how much he hates himself. People come to tell him he’s an idiot or laugh. Who knows.
when: November 19 to late November
where: Riverview hospital
warnings: Self-loathing, references to past suicidal ideation, will update as needed
Not much impressed Ronan and the advanced medical t. The first day, while his stomach healed, he lay in bed viciously chewing on one of his leather wristbands, having thrown the other at the wall. The next few days, when he could bear to stand, he got up and paced and punched a wall before being forced back into bed.
Mostly, he stared at the walls and imagined tearing them apart and he hated. Oh God, did he hate and it was all at himself. He did it again. He did a-fucking-gain. The thoughts ran through his mind in a spiral. The last time this happened, his best friend had been there to question and judge and make him promise. Ronan said that it wouldn’t happen again. He'd meant it.
He lay in bed, gnawing on the leather bracelet like a dog. The hole in the band grew until it began to break into pieces. Only then did he stop, in order to tear it apart. Well, he tried to. What actually happened washe gritted his teeth in pain and snapped the band hard against his bed.

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As soon as he got word that Ronan was awake and he was allowed to visit, he rushed in. He didn't know what he was expecting. Ronan wasn't going anywhere and he certainly wouldn't be happy to see anyone.
But still, just seeing him alive was enough to make Adam's heart jump. He shut the door behind him and went to the bed, reaching over to gently take his hand and stop him from chewing on his wristband.
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There were no words to describe how much he didn't want to see that look on Adam's face. Or if there were, he didn't know them. After a quick glance when Adam entered, he went back to staring at the wall. The look on his face hardened.
He should say something. Go away. Stay. I didn't mean to. No, we know I did.
When Adam touched his hand, Ronan uncurled his fingers and wound them around Adam's. Forgotten, the battered wristband slid down his arm. He let out a breath.
"I'm sorry." The words weren't soft or quiet, but they both knew where his anger was directed. The night horrors's attack made sure of that.
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He decided that he shouldn't be upset, then. At least, not until Ronan was out of the hospital. Right now, he had to make sure Ronan recovered quickly.
He squeezed his hand and sat next to him on the edge of the bed, glad to be around his boyfriend even if Ronan's hand was a little too cold for his liking right now.
"Don't," he murmured. "It's all fine." Not necessarily okay or good, but Ronan was alive and that meant things were fine. He kept quiet, wondering if Ronan would prefer that to speaking.
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Ronan took a deep breath and let it out again. He braced himself and looked at Adam. Whatever he was afraid of, he didn't see it. Deep down, he hadn't expected to.
"Are you alright?"
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He leaned closer, placing his other hand on top of Ronan's head and kissing his forehead.
"Yeah," he scoffed, as if it should have been obvious. "You wouldn't hurt me." He said it with a plain kind of certainty that he would never use with anyone else.
He paused, trying to think of something to cheer Ronan up. "They wouldn't let Chainsaw in for safety issues, but there's nothing wrong with opening up your window..."
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"That's bullshit. They let me in." Chainsaw posed less of a threat than him. Hell, when he'd been dragged in he was a walking biohazard oozing blood and body parts.
Ronan didn't want to let go of Adam's hand just yet. "You don't have my poor bird circling the hospital, do you?"
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"I told her I'd call her when the coast was clear. She's probably happily eating a rat right now." He rubbed the back of Ronan's hand with his thumb, nosing affectionately against his cheek.
"She can wait. I have you to myself finally." It was perhaps obvious that Adam was a little more clingy than usual, for understandable reasons.
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"Thanks." He didn't have to specify for what. It covered a lot of things.
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"Stop," he complained softly. He didn't want an apology or any gratitude. He wasn't upset because Ronan inconvenienced him, more that Ronan tried to do it on his own. But it wasn't about Adam right now.
"Focus on recovering so we can go home. This bed's awful small for the two of us." All he wanted was to make it known that he would follow Ronan anywhere, whether it was an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the night, a hospital bed, or even another universe.
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As far as Ronan went, he asked just enough to make sure that he was alright, wasn't going to die, and which room he was in. Ivar's fury towards his idiot friend and more idiotic boyfriend still hadn't abated. He went home, played with Winter, and got some sleep. When he woke up, it was dark outside. Heading back to the hospital, he tried to remain inconspicuous as he went to Ronan's room. Visiting hours were long since past, but he didn't care so long as he didn't run into the idiot boyfriend. Ivar had a bone to pick with Adam, but that would come later.
He pushed open the door to find Ronan looking rather like a dog trying to work its way out of a collar. Ivar wheeled himself over to the bed, looking every bit the dark, terrifying Viking he was. He examined Ronan for a minute. "Aren't you a sight?" Then he socked him hard in the jaw. "That's for making me afraid that you were going to die, you fucking selfish prick!" What Ivar really meant went unsaid. 'How dare you make me worry about you? Don't you realize I care enough about you to get scared when you're hurt?'
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Ronan might be still be weak. His shoulder was a mess, his stomach even worse, but he had one good arm. Too late to stop the punch, he grabbed Ivar's arm in case he went for seconds. His grip wasn't tight enough to hold him, but it might not have been even if he were healthy. He almost yelled at him, but he could voice no denials. Ivar didn't know the whole truth. That didn't mean Ronan could lie to him.
He let go of Ivar. "You saved my life, so I'm gonna let that one go. Don't fucking do it again." Ronan had never used this voice with Ivar before. Cold, angry, venomous, and strangely quiet. His bright blue eyes had somehow darkened. "You have anything else you want to get off your chest?"
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He sighed, suddenly feeling incredibly tired. It was hard, this feeling of caring about someone enough to be worried when there was a chance of them dying. It made him hurt inside and he hated that feeling. "You're one of the dumbest people I know. I would have loved to see what you would have done if I hadn't shown up. What were you going to do, hope you had enough bullets?"
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"Lock them in the building long enough to get away or die. I would've been fine if there weren't three of the fuckers." It had worked before. He'd had help finishing them off, but he'd gotten away on his own. "You want me to give you a call every time I fall asleep?"
In the moment, Ronan didn't care if Ivar already knew he'd dreamed the night horrors. He didn't care if he found out. Hell, he wanted to throw it in his face. This was Ronan's ugly truth. They were all his creations, all his monsters, and he'd fought them in his dreams nearly every night for the past month.
"You don't understand a damn thing."
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Ivar folded his arms, face impassive as he heard what he thought of as excuses from Ronan. "I understand enough to know that you don't have an ounce of common sense in your head. Instead of turning to someone else for help, like me who's killed more creatures in the past eight months than you've had hot dinners, or even that idiot boyfriend of yours, you thought to handle this all on your own. That's sheer idiocy!"
Frankly, the fact these creatures had come out of Ronan's mind didn't concern him as much as it should have. Ronan's powers have always been strange, so this just added on another aspect to them.
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"Don't call Adam that. You have no idea what he can do," he snapped. "And don't even think about touching him." Some of the details of last night were fuzzy, but trying to keep the two of them from killing each other wasn't something he could easily forget.
With that out of the way, he leaned back to rest against the bed. "What the hell can you do anyway? Babysit me every night? I don't need--" He cut himself off with a snarl of frustration. He couldn't say what was obviously a lie. He very clearly did need help.
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"--Help?" Ivar finished the thought off. Some of his anger was starting to fizzle back down to a manageable level. "Ronan, if there's one thing I've learned from being a cripple all these years, it's that no matter how badly you want to do things all on your own, sometimes, you just have to swallow your pride, and let someone else help you out." Words of wisdom from an angry Viking that couldn't use his legs.
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He was fairly confident that Ivar wouldn't seriously hurt him, that was why he was here yelling at him. But Adam-- Ronan resolved now to keep them apart. Aside from the death threats, there was something dark in Ivar's voice. It almost reminded him of when Ronan...
He lost his train of thought and couldn't get it back. He just knew that things could get ugly and he couldn't stand to hear Adam insulted like this. His hand shook and he clenched his hand into a fist to stop them. The anger was harder to contain.
Ivar was just trying to help. He was a viking. He didn't get these things. He reminded himself for the hundredth time.
He breathed out through his clenched teeth and tried talking again. "It's not pride. I didn't want anyone else to get hurt. So yeah. Obviously, I fucked that one up." The message there was: you're right. He just didn't know how to get around saying the words.
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"You're alive." The relief in Cisco's voice is stark, obvious.
His eyes dart to roughly where the wound on Ronan's stomach was, though it's hidden now beneath blankets and sheets. How he knows where that wound was, how he knew to come here at all, is just a big mystery for the time being.
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Cisco was here? Why? Yeah, if he wanted to drop by later, he could understand. But he'd clearly come here in a hurry. He was worried. Ronan didn't think he'd done anything to warrant that much concern. Hell, he hadn't even thanked Cisco for busting his ass trying to cover up Ronan's powers. Once he processed all of this, Ronan would probably feel guilty again.
Oh great, he spoke too soon. The guilt was hitting already.
"Yeah. I'm mostly in one piece now." He looked at Cisco warily. "How did you find out I'm here?"
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"I saw you get hurt."
It was the truth, but only a tiny, misleading fragment of it. Cisco was still too worried and shaken from the horrible violence he'd witnessed to worry about much else. Sure, he didn't know Ronan all that well, but he wouldn't want to see anyone get hurt like that. The vibe hadn't shown him everything, hadn't shown the entire fight, only flashes and snippets, enough to jolt Cisco awake with the certainty that either Ronan had been hurt very badly, or was about to be. He'd been too late to prevent it, though.
"I thought you were gonna die. Those- those monsters... they came out of your dreams?!"
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When he could speak, he didn't answer the question. "How did you see?" he asked sharply.
Ronan could think of one benign explanation: that Cisco had happened by and been too afraid to help. He could think of many other explanations that were far worse.
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The anger on Ronan's face was strange to him, until it clicked what he must be thinking - that to see him, Cisco must have been there, and if he was there, why did he stand by and do nothing? Swallowing, Cisco twisted his hands together in his lap. Even in a situation like this, it was hard, saying the words. But he'd found out about Ronan's powers, and knew that Ronan had kept them secret, at least. There was very little actual danger involved in telling him. And yet...
Cisco had a few false starts, opening his mouth and then closing it again, before he managed to choke out, "I... see things, sometimes. Um. Visions." And then, after one last look around to make sure no one was coming through the door, no one was around to overhear him, he reiterates, "I had a vision. I thought- sometimes I get them before stuff actually happens, and I can stop it, but this time it was too late..."
That at least would explain the urgency, his thrown-together appearance, why he was so out of breath.
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Tired as he was, things clicked into place. Cisco's panic was understandable, given what he'd seen. Ronan imagined the scene looked worse from an outsider's point of view. Most importantly, Cisco was someone he could trust. He wasn't lying before, when he'd tried to cover up Ronan's broadcasted memory.
"Yeah, they're from my dreams. It was a shitty month." As if that explained everything.
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It wasn't how Cisco thought of himself, and he was sure there were any number of differences between the kind of things he could do and the psychics that Ronan had known back in Virginia. But for the purposes of this conversation, he was probably close enough not to quibble over the terminology. He hadn't come here with the intent of explaining his metahuman powers - he'd come to make sure Ronan was alright.
He was glad to see Ronan relaxing back against the bed, calming down a little. He seemed less mad, though still somewhat miserable. Understandably. Who wouldn't be miserable, in a hospital, after being attacked by horrifying monsters.
"You sound... like, not surprised. Are you in shock or is this- has this happened before?"
Cisco had a sneaking suspicion it was the latter, but you never could tell.
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Now that he'd had time to process it, the surprise left him quickly. Psychics he could deal with. So far Cisco had been a lot less annoying than the ones back home.
He made a shower of considering Cisco for a moment. He didn't look for any differences. There wouldn't be any to see, but it did give him time to decide how to answer. In his end, exhaustion won. Keeping so many secrets for so long drained him. Whenever he had a chance to talk to someone about his powers it was something of a relief, no matter how heated the conversation got.
If he was relieved now, it didn't show. "It happened about two years ago," he said at last. "I had it under control until last night." Frustration leaked into his voice. The muscles in his neck tightened.
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