Ronan Lynch (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
somnioergosum) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
riverviewlogs2017-11-29 08:04 pm
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.
no subject
"I bet. Your brother looked real cute."
It's a deliberate move - commenting as if the memory about his brother were a good one, rather than asking about what had happened that was worse. If Ronan had wanted to talk about that, he would have. Besides, there had been so much happening back then that Cisco hadn't had a chance to say how cute Matthew was.
Ronan's question about whether he would get rid of his powers startled Cisco. He didn't answer right away. There was a time when he would have, without question. Since then, though, he had used his powers to protect Eddie, to save Magnus's life. When he thought about that, the answer seemed clear. But then he would remember Dr. Wells, looking out at him from the pipeline, going on about his great destiny, talking as if Cisco were something he had made, something he owned because he'd made him into a meta.
Cisco shrugged, eventually, and said, "I... don't know."
no subject
"Yeah. It's crazy. I don't even remember any of that. I had no fucking clue. Didn't think I had it in me." Which wasn't to say he didn't know he could dream someone. He just didn't think he could dream someone like Matthew. It must have been because of how young Ronan was at the time.
He watched Cisco while he considered Ronan's question. His look wasn't sharp. There was no test here. It was just interesting.
"I guess it's different when you're not born with it. I never met a psychic who regretted it." He did not include himself in that statement. He wouldn't have ever given up his own magic, it tied him too much to his father. It was part of who or what he was. But sitting in Church or lying in bed, drinking, he used to wonder where people like him went after.
It didn't matter. He had no choice. And he wouldn't regret Matthew or Opal. Hell was a small price to pay.
no subject
In part, Cisco was curious about Ronan, and his powers, and his life. But the main reason he asked that question was a little more subtle. Ronan seemed happier, talking about his brother. Cisco was feeling a bit guilty, for how hard he had pushed, how harsh he had been, when Ronan is trapped in a hospital bed. So this was in part an attempt to direct his attention to happier things.
"Did your brother know?"
Cisco did his best to listen and imagine Ronan's perspective; from the sound of it, he'd been born with his powers, and into a world that didn't acknowledge anyone having powers at all. Perhaps that was really enough, to offset the nightmare monsters? Still, Cisco couldn't quite buy that Ronan was totally fine with his powers. He had been so frightened, when it came to others finding out about them. There had to be a story, there.
As for his own story, Cisco wasn't going to tell all of it. But he could add, at least, "The man who gave me these powers was... evil. Everything he did was evil. So sometimes I feel like they must be, too."
no subject
That was not a fond memory. It disturbed and frightened him in ways he couldn't pick apart. For a solid week after, he kept replaying all the different times he could have got himself killed and sent Matthew into a permanent slumber. He hadn't even cared.
And yet at the same time, it made sense. Of course Matthew was a dream. Of course he was his. He was everything Ronan loved.
Ronan picked at the sheets though he was unaware of the movement. "Man, I am like the worst person to talk to about this. My dad gave me this and I still don't know if I'm going to hell for it." Ronan froze for several seconds. He had not meant to say all of that. "Doesn't matter. How could you do anything evil with some psychic visions anyway?"
no subject
Cisco remembered being seventeen; it had been hard enough without finding out something that earth-shattering. And if his older brother had known, perhaps the rest of his family too, and they'd been hiding it from him... that was a recipe for some bad times. A thought which seemed supported by Ronan's body language, his clear discomfort.
When Ronan brought up his father, Cisco was surprised, but did his best not to react, or interrupt. He'd seen the man in Ronan's memory, but never heard Ronan mention him before. This confirmed Cisco's assumption that Ronan's powers were inherited - apparently, directly from a parent. As for going to hell was concerned, Cisco wasn't going to touch that one with a ten foot pole. He had at least some leg to stand on, talking about powers and controlling them and all that. He might not be an expert, but he wasn't totally out of his depth. Questions of theology were entirely another matter, and not one he could help Ronan with, with any authority.
"I... said I have visions. I didn't say that was all I could do."
no subject
"Yeah?" Ronan didn't follow that up verbally. He simply looked at Cisco, one eyebrow quirked as if to say "you want to share?" He wouldn't press yet. He had a feeling Cisco might say more on his own, if not now then later.
Plus he was really out of it. Silence and hard or questioning stares were second nature to him. Navigating social situations was not. He used up most of his capacity for it between Adam, Ivar, and the first part of this conversation.
no subject
Cisco sighed, then; his exhaustion at being awoken from the vibe is starting to catch up with him. He got to his feet, pushing his hands in his pockets, and asked, "I'm gonna go, I think. I've harassed you enough, and also I'm kinda... still in my PJs. I can swing by again later, though - you need anything?"
no subject
What a night and what a day.