no masters or kings when the ritual begins

At first, it didn't feel real. Nothing felt real. Even now, Ronan has no idea how many days he spent in and out of consciousness, riding out the continued effects of whatever fucking drugs they'd pumped into him, pulling useless, horrible, half-formed things from an overworked Cabeswater, waking up screaming, ripping at restraints that no longer held him.

Later, the clarity had settled in and, with it, the unavoidable truth.

Gansey's absence in Hywel is a palpable thing, as heavy as the sudden lack of his father in his life. This time there isn't so much as a fucking tire iron to blame, much less the hand holding it. This time there's nothing but a fucking hole. A void.

It eats away.

Blue's kept away. Kept to herself. Ronan can't say he misses her exactly, but her absence adds to the emptiness. Noah's still around for the most part, and Adam. Ronan isn't sure which of them is more ghost-like anymore.

Neither of them are there when Ronan steps into Gansey's bedroom. He takes in the queen-sized bed, the covers still rumpled and sheets creased, and his nerves start to itch. His hands curl into fists at the sight of the bookshelf nearly full of dozens of titles Ronan's seen scattered throughout Hywel, the shelves dusty. He Grits his teeth as he takes in the desk in the corner, the surface covered in scribbled-upon papers and little cardboard cut-outs.

There's a single mint plant on the corner, starving for water.

Ronan picks off a single leaf, lightly places it on his tongue. Closes his eyes.

And boils over.

The plant hits the far wall hard enough to dent the plaster, falling to the bed in a mess of dust, dirt, and ceramic. The papers on the desk are next, wiped clean off the desk with on furious swipe. The lamp soon follows, cord ripped from the wall with a sputter before being smashed to the floor. There's a dowsing rod rested against the side of the desk and Ronan snatches it up before cleaning snapping it in two, flinging both ends toward the window and then lunging for the bookshelf. The books fly off in clumps, dropping to the ground in a scatter of wounded spines and dented pages and none of it fucking matters, none of it ever fucking mattered. Gansey started looking for answers the moment he got here, started looking for a way out.

And he finally fucking found it.

It's quiet inside Hywel, Adam off at class and Gansey holed up in the library. Blue, Ronan's pretty sure, is working a shift at the cat cafe, not that he really keeps up on her schedule. Or that she's even around all that much. And Noah...

Noah's in the main room, apparently, stretched out on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table. He looks comfortable.

Chainsaw seems to spot him at the same time and jumps off Ronan's shoulder, practically dive-bombing Noah, her wings ruffling his hair before she lands on the couch cushion just behind Noah's head.

He won't say it, but Ronan's glad to see Noah. And not just because it won't be so quiet.

Without a word, he drops onto the couch next to Noah and stretches back with a low, pleased groan. He's brought a bag of Cheetos in from the kitchen and the bag crinkles as he opens it. He takes a few, popping them in this mouth before holding the bag out to Noah.

"What the fuck are you watching?" he asks between one crunch and the next.