[Ronan barely stirs as he's moved, doesn't seem at all bothered by Bruce puttering around in the clinic as the morning starts and the rest of the world wakes up. He's breathing, thankfully, but doesn't begin to show much other signs of life until at least midafternoon.
When he dreams, it's about Gansey again. They're moving through the trees and Gansey is looking over his shoulder toward Ronan, careless and happy. We've almost found him, he shouts, leaping over the underbrush. It's not real. Ronan knows by now how to tell the difference between dreaming and reality, but he follows him anyway, desperate for even a glimpse of his friend, his brother in all but blood. He knows the rules. He won't touch him, won't think to want him back in reality- creating objects is one thing, but pulling out a human, a dream-clone of his king is not something Ronan is willing to risk.
Gansey comes to a jumbling stop and falls still, staring toward a hollowed-out tree with his back to Ronan. His shoulders sag a little, and Ronan falls still behind him. He can't see his face. The air grows cold.
Ronan knows what's going to happen before Gansey turns, but seeing it is somehow worse. The other boy's head lolls down to his shoulder before he jerks it upright, trembling with the vibrations of the buzzing. There are hornets in his mouth, crawling along his lip, bees trickling down his nose, infesting his empty eye sockets in a heaping throng of motion.
He leaps backward as Gansey's body falls apart, turns into the hive, and Ronan falls to the ground, his heart pounding. The ground is made of fabric somehow, it's thin and cushioned and he lets out a garbled noise where he's lying in the cot, sputtering as a wasp spits out of his mouth and onto the clinic floor.
It's a wicked looking black thing, sharp and full of edges. Ronan gasps for breath but doesn't quite have control of his body yet, so he remains still where he lies.
action
When he dreams, it's about Gansey again. They're moving through the trees and Gansey is looking over his shoulder toward Ronan, careless and happy. We've almost found him, he shouts, leaping over the underbrush. It's not real. Ronan knows by now how to tell the difference between dreaming and reality, but he follows him anyway, desperate for even a glimpse of his friend, his brother in all but blood. He knows the rules. He won't touch him, won't think to want him back in reality- creating objects is one thing, but pulling out a human, a dream-clone of his king is not something Ronan is willing to risk.
Gansey comes to a jumbling stop and falls still, staring toward a hollowed-out tree with his back to Ronan. His shoulders sag a little, and Ronan falls still behind him. He can't see his face. The air grows cold.
Ronan knows what's going to happen before Gansey turns, but seeing it is somehow worse. The other boy's head lolls down to his shoulder before he jerks it upright, trembling with the vibrations of the buzzing. There are hornets in his mouth, crawling along his lip, bees trickling down his nose, infesting his empty eye sockets in a heaping throng of motion.
He leaps backward as Gansey's body falls apart, turns into the hive, and Ronan falls to the ground, his heart pounding. The ground is made of fabric somehow, it's thin and cushioned and he lets out a garbled noise where he's lying in the cot, sputtering as a wasp spits out of his mouth and onto the clinic floor.
It's a wicked looking black thing, sharp and full of edges. Ronan gasps for breath but doesn't quite have control of his body yet, so he remains still where he lies.
Beneath the cot comes the low hum of wings.]