[Honestly, he was sort of glad that it took Kavinsky a while to get the fireplace crackling, as it gave Ronan some time to try and order his thoughts, to try and prepare himself for what he was going to talk about. Because yes, it was a loaded topic, but Ronan had brought it up on purpose, he was trying to let his walls down and let Kavinsky be here for him. But it still took everything in him to not snap at him when he asked the question. So instead he reached for one of the glasses, holding it out to Kavinsky with a sigh as he cuddled up against his side.
He didn't want to tell the story. But no, that wasn't true. He didn't want it to have happened. He wanted to have made a better choice. He waited until Kavinsky poured the whiskey, and Ronan drank is too fast, but he wanted the burn, the way that the heat of it pools in his stomach. He closes his eyes for a moment, and finds somewhere to sit the glass, before burying his face into the other boy's chest, squirming to get comfortable until he finds a position where he can feel K's heartbeat against his cheek.]
Well, she-- fuck. She fell asleep when my dad died. He knew and he fucking named her after Sleeping Beauty.. fucking asshole. But uh, the dream forest, right? I dreamt a place for it. So you could go there when you're awake, hold your dreams in your hands- if you wanted to. And I realized that if I took her there, she should wake up, right? I'd be putting a dream back inside a dream.
[Ronan's voice hitched, and he coughed to cover it, just closing his eyes for a moment. He didn't realize that Kavinsky didn't know what happened to dreams without their dreamer. But maybe he should have; Ronan had only realized that summer himself.]
So I put her in the dream forest. This nice little place, the rose garden. Except... I didn't know what was wrong at first. It was just this dream, and there was this black shit. It ate everything it touched. I remember waking up that morning begging to still have legs.
[Ronan laughs at it, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do. Needless to say: this isn't just bad for his mother, it's bad for Ronan, too.]
The next time I went to visit her, there was the same black shit from my dream on some of the trees. But I didn't fucking-- I didn't get it, I didn't know what was happening.
[He pulls his head up, distressed, looking at Kavinsky, almost desperate. Before, Ronan would probably have hit him, punched K just to feel it, just so that the other boy would punch him back, just so that he had something to do with the feelings that twisted in his veins. But this time he just clings to him, his breath coming fast as he cuddles into him like he might fall apart without him.
The trajectory is easy to read, of course: that whatever that black shit was, it kills her, and Ronan blames himself for it. But the details make it worse.]
We called it the unmaker. Because that was what it fucking did. So yeah, I knew it was getting bad. But I didn't know how bad it was. But it wasn't like I could stop dreaming. I needed it more than ever. And it was-- it was worse. Almost everything was gone, just... black melting towards the sky, taking everything it touched. Poisonous. The forest strangled, being stripped away, so little of it left.
[Ronan's eyelashes are wet, and there's the hiccup of something that might have been a sob if Ronan would have allowed it. Whether the tears are for Cabeswater or because he knows what follows is hard to tell. Ronan is just glad for the lingering taste of the whiskey in his mouth, it feels clear and real. Reminds him where he is, that he isn't there, and that it isn't here, that he's okay. His too-fast breathing seems to finally calm, and if Kavinsky is particularly attentive, he might notice that Ronan matches his breath to the other boy's heartbeat. Like it's the only thing that steadied him.]
The night horror. The white one that fought your dragon-- It shouldn't have been there, but it cares about what I care about, so... I found its remains. Torn apart, its ribs ruptured, and these sick mushrooms burst through every part of it. From it's skull to the viscera.
Have you ever.. dreamt something that doesn't really fit in reality, it's too much of a dream, and so it's hard to look at? They was like that, but in reverse. Like the absence of dreams.
[It's clear that he focuses on the night horror so much, because if he's talking about that, then he's not talking about Aurora. He glosses over Adam and Orphan Girl, just because it feels easier to just focus on answering the question.]
cw: brief descriptions of gore
He didn't want to tell the story. But no, that wasn't true. He didn't want it to have happened. He wanted to have made a better choice. He waited until Kavinsky poured the whiskey, and Ronan drank is too fast, but he wanted the burn, the way that the heat of it pools in his stomach. He closes his eyes for a moment, and finds somewhere to sit the glass, before burying his face into the other boy's chest, squirming to get comfortable until he finds a position where he can feel K's heartbeat against his cheek.]
Well, she-- fuck. She fell asleep when my dad died. He knew and he fucking named her after Sleeping Beauty.. fucking asshole. But uh, the dream forest, right? I dreamt a place for it. So you could go there when you're awake, hold your dreams in your hands- if you wanted to. And I realized that if I took her there, she should wake up, right? I'd be putting a dream back inside a dream.
[Ronan's voice hitched, and he coughed to cover it, just closing his eyes for a moment. He didn't realize that Kavinsky didn't know what happened to dreams without their dreamer. But maybe he should have; Ronan had only realized that summer himself.]
So I put her in the dream forest. This nice little place, the rose garden. Except... I didn't know what was wrong at first. It was just this dream, and there was this black shit. It ate everything it touched. I remember waking up that morning begging to still have legs.
[Ronan laughs at it, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do. Needless to say: this isn't just bad for his mother, it's bad for Ronan, too.]
The next time I went to visit her, there was the same black shit from my dream on some of the trees. But I didn't fucking-- I didn't get it, I didn't know what was happening.
[He pulls his head up, distressed, looking at Kavinsky, almost desperate. Before, Ronan would probably have hit him, punched K just to feel it, just so that the other boy would punch him back, just so that he had something to do with the feelings that twisted in his veins. But this time he just clings to him, his breath coming fast as he cuddles into him like he might fall apart without him.
The trajectory is easy to read, of course: that whatever that black shit was, it kills her, and Ronan blames himself for it. But the details make it worse.]
We called it the unmaker. Because that was what it fucking did. So yeah, I knew it was getting bad. But I didn't know how bad it was. But it wasn't like I could stop dreaming. I needed it more than ever. And it was-- it was worse. Almost everything was gone, just... black melting towards the sky, taking everything it touched. Poisonous. The forest strangled, being stripped away, so little of it left.
[Ronan's eyelashes are wet, and there's the hiccup of something that might have been a sob if Ronan would have allowed it. Whether the tears are for Cabeswater or because he knows what follows is hard to tell. Ronan is just glad for the lingering taste of the whiskey in his mouth, it feels clear and real. Reminds him where he is, that he isn't there, and that it isn't here, that he's okay. His too-fast breathing seems to finally calm, and if Kavinsky is particularly attentive, he might notice that Ronan matches his breath to the other boy's heartbeat. Like it's the only thing that steadied him.]
The night horror. The white one that fought your dragon-- It shouldn't have been there, but it cares about what I care about, so... I found its remains. Torn apart, its ribs ruptured, and these sick mushrooms burst through every part of it. From it's skull to the viscera.
Have you ever.. dreamt something that doesn't really fit in reality, it's too much of a dream, and so it's hard to look at? They was like that, but in reverse. Like the absence of dreams.
[It's clear that he focuses on the night horror so much, because if he's talking about that, then he's not talking about Aurora. He glosses over Adam and Orphan Girl, just because it feels easier to just focus on answering the question.]
And then I found my mom. It was... worse.