#ronanarcher

Ronan: When Fletcher took a hold of his arm so much came suddenly flooding back. All the times he's done that in the past. Ronan's heart seized up. All that aggression melted away and there was a lost look in his eyes. He felt breathless. Ronan had been ready for a tight hug. That had been what he wanted. But he couldn't - he - what? A ring? Was that his engagement ring to- Luke knows? The reaper shakes his head, steps backwards.

"Wh-what d'you mean? Who was she?"

Fletcher: Well, that aggression was already gone, seemed. Fletcher hadn't had any to offer to begin with. He rubbed at his arm and dropped his hand.

"Her name's Marion. She's my wife." If he'd told Ronan about her before, he couldn't remember. He doubted Ronan would have remembered, either.

"Wanna come in?"

Ronan: "Luke knows?! He ain't said shit! Ma-Marion?" Oh, yes. Ohhh how Ronan knew. "That fucking BITCH?! She's a nut case! Is she blackmailin' you?! Fletcher!" He should definitely be watching his mouth... but here we are. "Yeah I wanna come in." he was already barging his way past.

Fletcher: Ah, so he remembered something Fletcher couldn't. Well, fuck me, he thought.

"By all means," he muttered, following behind with the sharp chime of the new bell.

"Got any better questions? Wait, I got one. How the hell are ya?"

Ronan: Ronan looks around, looking for clues he's being pranked. Where are the cameras? Where's the laughing audience?

The question had him stopping. How is he? How is he?! The way he's suddenly got his arms around Fletcher's waist and is hugging him close should be answered enough.

"I'm grand. How are you?"

Fletcher: The kind of whirlwind expected of Ronan, but he remembered what Luke had told him. Ronan was carrying a burden of his own.

The reaper was held close. A point made not to allow skin-to-skin. Keep those deaths to himself. That much he remembered perfectly.

"I exist." He rubbed Ronan's shoulder.

Ronan: "What's up with Marion, Fletcher?" Said muffled into his clothing, draining all the comfort he could out of this. "Where's Luke?"

Fletcher: "Y'all were gone. The fuck was I supposed t'think?"

Ronan: "But Marion?" He peeked up at him. "You ain't dumb. She's a psycho."

Fletcher: "What exactly did I tell ya 'bout her?"

Ronan: "She's a big liar. Let you be miserable for years."

Fletcher: "Sounds right. That was my own fault for believin' her, right?" Shoulders rose and fell. "It was somethin' t'do. She's gonna leave me 'fore long."

Ronan: "That's crazy... We're back now, Fletcher. You - what did Luke say? Don't you wanna be with him?"

Fletcher: "Like ya ain't done somethin' stupid just because ya could." With a squeeze, the reaper was released.

"He said stuff. A lot of stuff. Kinda... sounded like Charlie Brown's parents. Ya know, the 'wha wha'."

Sighing, he made his way over to the counter.

"Was just too surreal. Thought I dreamt it."

Ronan: "I'm dif'rent." He's allowed to be stupid because he IS.

The mockery of Luke made Ronan slap his arm. Don't be a dick. You were engaged to that angel.

"You're nuts. You fuckin' fought tooth an' nail for Luke. You went through all that shit jus' t'give up. For what." Not a question. "How's your ma? Did... did she get... y'know. That little girl?" My daughter.

Fletcher: Another slap? That arm was going to be red. He frowned, but made no complaint.

"He told me what y'all went through," he began. "The shit some lil dick put y'all through. Sorry 'bout that." He'd settle for this conversation before moving to the next. One at a time.

Ronan: Alright then. Ronan just shrugged. "It happens. Kinda just added t'the list. You got any food? I'm huuuungry!"

Fletcher: He could relate to the avoidance. Pushing shit aside was easy enough. "Upstairs." Fuck it. He really needed to think about hiring someone again, but for now, the sign at the front door would be flipped closed. Lights shut off and Ronan gestured out the door before locking.

"She's still there," he finally added.

Ronan: Avoidance? Not quite. Ronan had been kidnapped, tortured, abused, imprisoned, chained up, all multiple times. He had missed everyone and everything, but he felt... fine. He was more resilient than that.

The reaper followed, already forgotten what he'd asked about. "Who's where?"

Fletcher: The reaper was given a look, brow arched high into his growing hair. "Wow. Santa clause's wife. Ya fuckin' dingleberry."

Ronan: Ronan laughed. "Dingleberry? I KNOW that ain't come into style in the past two years, brother." Ah! He remembered now. "You meant - how come your ma didn't get her? Thought she had a plan."

Fletcher: Ronan was gently pushed to the stairs leading to his upstairs apartment. "She's waitin'. Gertrude's upped her security since ya took her assassin."

Ronan: Up he went, still kind of checking for those cameras.

"Her assassi- Salt?" He laughed at the memory. "That was fun. Tell your ma I'll help. We - my brothers will help if I ask, too."

Fletcher: "Yeah, but are ya? Thought ya didn't give a shit about her."

Ronan: "I'll help get her out. I ain't gonna be no da."

Fletcher: "Then who ya gonna give her to?"

Ronan: "Uh... who was your ma gonna give her to? I trust whatever she was gonna do."

He didn't know that Aidan would take her in a heartbeat, and Luke would too. He's never bothered to ask.

Fletcher: "She was. She said she wasn't gonna, but she was."

Ronan: "Then she can." He stops at the familiar door. He wondered if the doorknob had been replaced since they went out and got a new one together - when Ronan had broken it.

Fletcher: The doorknob was still changed every six months. This newest was on its last month. Real silver, for reasons.

"Sure. We'll have her do it."

The house pretty much looked the same. With the exception of purple flowers by the window, by the phone, and in the kitchen. A cardigan draped over the couch, and the general sweet scent of Marion's sugary-floral perfume.

"Want some pizza?"

Ronan: So Fletcher had kept the furniture Luke had gotten for them. Interesting. He had excepted Marion to forcefully erase every little part of Fletcher's part like the crazy bitch she is.

"Fuck yeah!" He was bouncing with excitement. "Two years without pizza, man. Enough to make you wanna cry." He got comfortably sprawled out on the couch, not minding that the cardigan met the floor.

Fletcher: Fletcher ruffled Ronan's hair as he passed, heading to the fridge to re-heat the last of the pepperoni pizza.

"Everyone come out the other side okay?"

Ronan: Ronan smiled at the touch. It was truly wonderful to be back.

"Dunno. Conor won't respond t'anyone. Sean dragged me to Q's then fucked off t'Chicago or New York or somethin'... Aidan's fuckin' miserable an' blamin' himself. He wants... D'you know anythin' about our kind? Aidan wants t'take him down but we don't even know if that's possible."

Fletcher: "I dunno shit 'bout y'all. Y'all make no damn sense t'me." The species, not the people. The people he was just fine with. Half the time. Maybe a little more.

"So, anything that ain't dead ain't gonna be any help t'this quest, huh?"

Ronan: Oh. Ronan deflated a bit. "We need t'find out. He did a good job keepin' this a secret. Guess he don't want anyone t'know."

He shrugged, stretching, "I dunno. Guess it would help since he can't control anythin' that ain't us. Why? Were you gonna help?"

Fletcher: Might as well be honest. "I mean... probably not. M'just tryin' t'stay alive here. Things in this town are..." The Fera sighed. "Ya find out what he can do. The real shit, n'get back t'me."

Ronan: Ronan nodded, "That's cool. Seth can kill so he ain't... he ain't like us." he yawned, "I wanna find someone that's like Seth." suddenly he was sat up. "If we can find someone like him, like, the same status or whatever, they can tell us how they got their power, what they had to do, what we have to do! They can tell us what other powers he has too, maybe he's got more. I'm right, right?" Wait. Backtrack. "Did shit get worse here since I left?"

Fletcher: Two paper plates filled with pizza were plopped by the stools in the kitchen. Nodding while he listened, even if Ronan couldn't see.

"Not... worse, just weird. Knew there were witches n'shit in town, s'just they're talkin' with certain people. Just shit I didn't expect."

Ronan: The reaper laughed, loud and proud, "YOU?! Not expect suttin'? Not KNOW suttin' about Edenton?! Slap my ass an' call me Sally. That's a new one, brother. You knew shit about me before even I knew it about me."

Fletcher: "So fuckin' sue me. Not everyone's as goddamn obvious. People call him Hippie for a reason."

Ronan: "Hippie? Sounds like a fag. Did you make chips with that? Sorry. Fries!"

Fletcher: Not as though Fletcher was going to defend a man he knew only from a distance. But the humor wasn't lost on him, considering Ronan's love life.

"Right - 'cause I always eat fries with my pizza. Ya fuckin' comin' in here or not?"

Ronan: Yeah. Ronan would never quite connect those dots, would he?

"Don't you?" weirdo. Up he got with a groan, heading over to sit. Fletcher's chair was pulled waaaaaay close to him. "D'you miss me?"

Fletcher: "Why would I miss that ugly mug?" Fletcher smiled into his can of Miller Lite.

Ronan: Ronan snorted and kissed Fletcher's cheek. He could recoil if he wanted, Ronan didn't mind.

"I missed yours."

Fletcher: No recoil. Not this time. Just staring thoughtfully at nothing.

"Oh, c'mon now. No one can miss this."

Ronan: "Fletcher..." a tiny nudge. Look at me.

Fletcher: "Hm?" He'd occupy himself with another chug while looking.

Ronan: "Do you not like Luke anymore?"

Fletcher: His brow knotted, can slowly lowered. "Why ya askin' that?"

Ronan: "'cause I wanna know."

Fletcher: "Doesn't matter what I fuckin' think." He had to pull that from his gut, because his knee-jerk reaction was to say fuck off.

Ronan: "That's the duuuuuuuuumbest shit I've ever heard, an' I've heard some dumb shit." he picked up the pizza and bit into it far from elegantly. "You like him or you don't. Which is it? 'Cause that guy fuckin' followed me around for eighty years. Suttin' tells me he won't give up on you when you were engaged."

Fletcher: "I'm married. I could be in love with a fuckin'... anyone. Anyone. M'not gonna be the one t'cheat. If Marion does, fine. But it ain't gonna be me. I did that shit once. Call it dumb. M'a dumb motherfucker."

Ronan: Scoff. "Divorce exists y'know. Like it's a real legal thing. Murder exists too. If I could kill I'd fuckin' do it myself for free."

Fletcher: "Yeah, well, ain't what m'gonna do. Deal with your own love life."

Ronan: "Why? What you got with Marion is so great? You love her so much? Or you jus' think bein' loyal now makes you an' MJ all good?"

Fletcher: That memory sure worked when it wanted to. Had this been two years ago, he might have put his hand on the reaper. Instead, he shrugged.

"Is what it is."

Ronan: "Cool. Great." He shoved more food into his mouth. "Luke really knows how t'pick 'em, huh?"

Fletcher: "Couldn't find a payphone, steal a phone, pop in, write a letter, nothin' for three minutes in two years. I sure know how t'pick em."

Ronan: That had Ronan staring. He felt... disgusted. Was this all his fault, then? It was his fault Seth liked him so fucking much that - no.

"Whatever, man. Can't help people who don't wanna be helped." He continued to eat, clearly hurt by what had been said. This certainly wasn't how he saw this going.

Fletcher: No, Fletcher didn't see this as Ronan's fault. Not at all. If Ronan allowed, a hand would come to rest on his shoulder, lovingly squeeze the back of his neck and drop.

"Think that's the smartest thing ya ever said," he smirked.

Ronan: It would be allowed, and it would be cherished. Still, the sadness on his face didn't disappear.

"I'm sorry."

Fletcher: "What ya done?" asked before a bite.

Ronan: "Luke stayed there for us. He would've been back way sooner it wasn't for us. I'm sorry." Not like they had much choice, but perhaps he could've done something more...

Fletcher: "Don't apologize for shit like that. Just don't. Apologize for shit ya do on purpose, not shit ya got nothin' t'do with."

Ronan: "But it's true. I dunno. Maybe we could've found a way, but we didn't. We owe bein' here to Luke, an' he's come back an' both of your hearts are broken now."

Fletcher: "He told me, a lil, 'bout what happened. Ya wanna talk... 'bout any of it?"

5:49 PM] Ronan: Ronan shrugged. "I actually... don't remember a lot of it."

Fletcher: "Just sorta... what's it called. Disassociated? Blacked out?"

Ronan: "Nah, like, when he controls me I don't really remember what he makes me do. I don't remember leavin' in the first place. It's like bein' possessed. He uh... didn't control us for some stuff though." Moooore food was required. "Ain't the first time an' won't be the last suttin' like that happens t'me. People love me, y'know? Love me so much it makes 'em crazy an' they kidnap me and lock me up. Story of my life."

Fletcher: "That ain't right, man." And he didn't see the point in the asshole doing something like that if Ronan wouldn't even remember. Wouldn't that kind of torture mean something if Ronan saw every second? People were sick and just fucking stupid and confusing.

"If ya love somethin', ya let it go."

Ronan: "Chat shit. I'm followin' Matheus wherever he goes." Hm. He feels better just at the mention of the name. "If you love somethin', you stick by it."

Fletcher: "I mean ya don't suffocate em. Ya know those fuckin' psychos that lock people away in their basement, or tell their lover every fuckin' move they can make."

Ronan: Ronan hums. "I'd LOVE it if Matheus locked me in a basement with him." He wasn't exactly the right person for this conversation, maybe.

"So you married someone else 'cause you're worried about suffocatin' Luke? Oooooh. I get it now. Not."

Fletcher: Fletcher pointed at Ronan, brows tight and down with confusion.

"Ya sure ya weren't born in like, the 80s?"

Ronan: Fletcher was given a dirty look as he bit into food. "Pretty sure. Why?"

Fletcher: "'Cause ya argue like a kid."

Ronan: He snorted. "Someone born in the 80s would be fuckin' thirty-odd now!" He offered some food for Fletcher to eat.

Fletcher: "Younger than your ass." The offering would be bitten from Ronan's hand.

Ronan: "True." that action made Ronan grin. "I missed you. A lot." now he'll have to deal with the reaper shuffling even closer and resting his head on the other's shoulder.

Fletcher: Fingers immediately regretted tangling in Ronan's hair, but he'd deal with it later. For now, Ronan had earned a pat.

Ronan: Ronan hadn't changed much at all. The touch still made him whine and shift closer.

"What did you think when you saw my letter? Were you like 'oh shit this cunt's back' or like 'oh shit! this cunt's back!'" the tones were very different, you see.

Fletcher: "Surprised ya came back t'this shitty fuckin' town. Wonderin' why ya ain't in some big city livin' that big city life."

Ronan: "'cause you're here. Duh. An' I love you." Fletcher would be flashed a very proud smile. "Everyone is here. Apart from Sean, I guess." will Fletcher eat from his hand a second time? The offer was there.

Fletcher: Didn't bother him none. He'd take another nibble. Ronan's confession sounded more like a tease than the real thing, but he wouldn't say as much. Just accepting his words as friendly.

"Why ain't Sean here?"

Ronan: Fletcher was wrong and Ronan would happily punch some sense into him. If only the thought had been voiced.

"I swear I literally told you this like five minutes ago. You ain't listenin' t'me?" pout pout. "He wanted t'be with Sash. He's in Chicago. See? If you love someone, you go where they go."

Fletcher: "But I -" Ronan was given a gentle smack to his cheek. "Why didn't he just being the kid here if he's gonna be like that?"

Ronan: The smack made him huff. "Rude." he shrugged. "'cause Sash has school out there. An'... uh..." huh. That thought hurt. "It ain't as easy for Sash t'move as it was for Sean, I guess."

Fletcher: "How's everyone else holdin' up?" He expected one of two possible answers from this question, and only one would feel true. His stomach was slowly getting knotted.

Ronan: Ronan laughed, he's sure they've had that conversation, too. He must be secretly asking about Luke.

"I haven't seen or spoken t'Luke. He didn't tell me about you guys an' I literally haven't heard a single word from him since we came back. I thought you guys were too busy havin' sex for him t'remember I existed."

Fletcher: Fletcher took a deep breath and shrugged. He wouldn't allow himself to get sucked into that conversation, nor that train of thought.

"How 'bout Aiden? Aidan?"

Ronan: "A-o-d-h-á-n." just to confuse him. "Aidan, brother." gosh. "I dunno. Guess he's out lookin' for June. Is she married now, too?"

Fletcher: That earned a particularly long sigh. "On the 'why the fuck haven't ya called' wagon, too."

Ronan: The reaper frowned and sat up. "That ain't fair. He couldn't. Aidan literally beat the shit out of me 'cause of Seth, you think he could pick up a phone an' call home?"

Fletcher: "Yeah, n'how the fuck were we supposed t'know that? N'Aidan's got an excuse. What's Luke's? Don't defend him. Doin' right by one don't mean he did right by all."

Ronan: "You couldn't but I'm sayin' she can listen, he can explain." Oh, Ronan was starting to get mad. "There is an excuse you idiot! Conor! My ring! He was protectin' you, too!"

Fletcher: "The fuck ya talkin' 'bout?"

Ronan: "You're meant t'be the smart one out of us two." he huffed. "My ring. Seth took my ring, y'know the one that shows you where people are." he touched it idly, making sure he did in fact manage to get it back. "If he came back Seth could've followed him. An' he used Conor t'do all sorts of shit, he can control his demon shit, too. What if he used Conor t'read Luke's mind an' found out about you? An' our hearin' works for miles, Luke would've had t'abandon us completely t'call you! An' if Seth heard? Followed him? What if Seth found out about you, huh? Didn't you think about that? You think it was as simple as Luke jus' sittin' around watchin' Seth torture us? You think he was on fuckin' holiday?! Do you actually believe Luke wouldn't have tried t'come back t'you if he could? An' he told me he tried t'visit you in your dreams but 'cause of Conor Seth - stop underestimatin' what happened!"

Fletcher: "You're givin' a lot of what ifs t'this motherfucker. If he wanted t'do it, he woulda done it. This Seth sounds like a fuckin' moron."

Fletcher took a breath, pinched between his eyes. A new habit of late.

"M'not gonna talk about Luke with ya. What's done is done."

Ronan: A moron that had their lives in his hand.

Ronan turned, unable to look at Fletcher anymore. "'kay." he'll just take a sip of his drink.

Fletcher: Time to move on. "Now that you're back, there anything ya need? Gotta be somethin'."

Ronan: "What, you mean like, toilet paper an' shit?"

Fletcher: "Someone t'talk to. Groceries - I know ya don't need it. Not the point."

Ronan: Oh.

"Yeah. Someone t'talk to would be nice." And yet he still won't look at Fletcher. "Does Marion know what you are?"

Fletcher: Rather than a sigh, the Samsa's breath stilled. Uncertain if the truth would come back to haunt him via Ronan's mouth.

"No."

Ronan: "Damn. Must be lonely." he licked his lips. "She's gonna find out, brother. The second you take your socks off."

Fletcher: Fletcher smiled. "Know what's great? She hates feet."

Ronan: The shock made Ronan choke on a piece of food. "Didn't ask her kinks." he laughed around coughing. "Fuck sake."

Fletcher: "Hey, said hate, not love," he smirked.

Ronan: God damn.

"Eat your food an' be quiet."

Fletcher: That smile remained as he finished his stuffed crust. "Want a beer?"

Ronan: "Thought you'd never ask."

Fletcher: "Beer good 'nuff, or ya want somethin' stronger. Got whiskey."

Ronan: "Fireball?"

Fletcher: "With cinnamon and Tabasco?"

Ronan: Ronan had meant on its on... but... "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want." there's a moment of uncertainty before he speaks again, "Are you gonna watch Luke? Make sure he's okay an' all that?"

Fletcher: Fletcher was a little more than curious how Ronan would handle the combination. Entertaining if anything.

"D'ya want me t'watch Luke? Think an angel can't take care of himself?"

Ronan: Shrug. "Emotionally? Prob'ly can't. An' since he didn't tell me about everythin'... there's gotta be a reason, right? I dunno, though. What if he finds someone new an' you see? Kinda messed up. Pretty messed up even if he doesn't."

Fletcher: "So then I shouldn't watch."

Ronan: "Guess it will hurt you if you do."

Fletcher: "Feels like you're playin' matchmaker, more than worried 'bout him. Or me."

Ronan: "Worried ain't the right word."

Fletcher: "Then what is?"

Ronan: "Uhhh... I dunno, ask a thesaurus."

Fletcher: "Wow." The fireball shooter was handed over. A thin layer of red coating the bottom of the class.

"T'your freedom?"

Ronan: The glass was examined and with a grin, held up. "T'my fuckin' freedom, brother."

Fletcher: "That's more like it." A quick wink, Fletcher tilted both the glass and his head. His groan was not of pain, but pleasure.

Ronan: The wink and the sound sent strange tingles through Ronan's body. He suddenly remembered their shared dreams, the lust he had felt. He slaps himself across the face. The drink was downed in a single gulp.

"Did you think about me while I was gone?" He grinned cheekily, "What did you think about?"

Fletcher: Fletcher looked up from his shot glass. The pause was only brief before pouring them a second round.

"Sure I did." The next round was offered. "Wonderin' why y'all just up n'left. Sexy thoughts go out the window when y'all disappear."

Ronan: He snorted. "Love how you knew where I was goin' with that." His glass is swirled, the drink examined. "An' now that I'm back? Sexy thoughts return?" He leaned in, smirking up at the other as he drinks.

Fletcher: "Ya want that? For me t'think 'bout ya, bein' a married man?"

Ronan: "Lettin' Marion catch you with me would be an easy out, huh?"

Fletcher: "S'not what's gonna happen. Think m'gonna give her somethin' like that against me?"

Ronan: "What you gonna do then, baby?"

Fletcher: "Live my life, ol' man. Ya should do the same."

Ronan: "You call this livin'?" He starts to pour a third.

Fletcher: "N'what are ya doin'?"

Ronan: "At least I'm not married to a psycho crazy bitch." His voice is ever so gentle, smiling and kind despite the words.

Fletcher: "That's what you're married to, huh? The opposite of that?"

Ronan: He laughs, "Uh huh. Complete opposite. To me."

Fletcher: "Good luck with that. Ya fuckin' need the break."

Ronan: "Break?"

Fletcher: "From that fuckin' reaper shit."

Ronan: He shrugged. "I'm cool with it."

Fletcher: "Lie t'anyone else."

Ronan: "I ain't lyin'!"

Fletcher: "Yeah, someone controllin' n'fuckin' with ya's old news."

Ronan: "Exactly." He grinned, more drinking!

Fletcher: Fletcher rolled his eyes. The offer for Ronan to vent was still on the table. Whenever that would be, or never.

"How ya likin' it?"

Ronan: Never. He didn't feel the need, and if he did, he'd cry only to Matheus.

"It's rank, brother, which must mean it's good." He laughed, "You normally drink this alone?"

Fletcher: "Ya drink this when ya wanna see someone's reaction. Or ya need a bite in you life. Better than caffeine."

Ronan: "If you want a bite in life I'm right here."

Fletcher: "That supposed t'be a flirtation?"

Ronan: He choked on his drink. "If you want it t'be I guess."

Fletcher: "Ya guess?"

Ronan: "D'you want it t'be?"

Fletcher: "Nope," he smirked.

Ronan: "Liar." He smiled, shoving the other gently.

Fletcher: A small gutteral chuckle, like a cough, joined his smile. "Kay. Now ya want that beer?"

Ronan: "You're tryna get me drunk." He huffs, having another glass of fireball.

Fletcher: "That even possible? I forget."

Ronan: "Keep tryin' an' find out."

Fletcher: "Sure. Finish the Fireball."

Ronan: He swallows it whole and grins. "Your turn."

Fletcher: "My turn what?"

Ronan: "To drink, genius."

Fletcher: "Drink what, genius."

Ronan: "A drink, dickhead."

Fletcher: "Fine, I'll drink water."

Ronan: Ronan blew a raspberry in his direction.

Fletcher: "You're still five. That's great."

3:04 PM] Ronan: Ronan snorted. "Yeah, an' you still look like your grumpy cat."

Fletcher: "I'll take that. Creep's beautiful." Fletcher managed a grin.

Ronan: "Yeah, for a grumpy bitch." Ronan matched the expression. "You ain't tried therapy yet, baby?"

Fletcher: "I swear ya done asked me that. Had t'be you 'cause I remember gettin' called bitch. Have you tried therapy?"

Ronan: "Yeah, between the time I asked an' now you still ain't got an appointment?" he laughed, "Yeah I did, surprise surprise therapy a hundred years ago didn't work."

Fletcher: "There ain't no human out there that can talk t'somethin' like me. Not that m'special, but they sure as shit ain't."

Ronan: "Want me t'take a course? I can be your therapist!"

Fletcher: "Lemme guess. 'Shit happens. $400, please.'"

Ronan: Oh, that had him laughing. "I mean.... that's how I got by an' I'm fine." uh... interesting use of the word 'fine'.

Fletcher: A word Fletcher had picked up on as well. "Fine, right. What's the sayin'? 'Fit as a fuckin' fiddle'."

Ronan: Food was pushed into Fletcher's mouth. Eat and be quiet!

Fletcher: And he would, all while popping Ronan on the cheek. Just hard enough for a satisfying sound.

Ronan: The reaper pouted, swatting his hand. "You ain't really changed."

Fletcher: "Would ya love me if I were a stranger?"

Ronan: "Who the fuck loves strangers?"

Fletcher: "Exactly."

Ronan: "I'd... not punch you in the face." same thing!

Fletcher: "But it's so satisfyin'."

Ronan: "Fine. Maybe I'd punch you a little."

Fletcher: "Wanna punch me now?"

Ronan: "For what you've done t'Luke? Yeah."

Fletcher: Fletcher turned his head, popped his left cheek in invitation.

Ronan: Ronan laughed, "How's your healing these days? Bit brave of you."

Fletcher: "I can take a two week vacation."

Ronan: His arm pulled back, geared up, swung! And pat Fletcher on the head. "I'll let Luke do it himself. He punched me, hopefully he's got it in him to punch you, too."

Fletcher: "That was anti-fuckin'-climactic." But he stood, suddenly, and kissed into those curls. He needed more alcohol for this conversation.

Ronan: "What d'you mean?" The kiss made him huff... but of course... it settled some sort of storm within Ronan's heart.

Fletcher: "I was all ready for a fuckin' punch!"

Ronan: "An' Luke was ready t'come home t'the man he was gonna marry."

Fletcher: "Don't fuckin' start that."

Ronan: "Make me."

Fletcher: "I know your secret. Ya can't do that anymore."

Ronan: "What secret?"

Fletcher: "You'll hate it more if I do nothin'."

Ronan: "Ohhh so you want me to hate you?"

Fletcher: Yes. But Fletcher just shrugged, smirked. "Frustrate ya."

Ronan: "Fletcher. C'mon. Seriously. What are you gonna do? An' don't give me some bullshit."

Fletcher: "I ain't got nothin' new t'add t'this conversation."

Ronan: Uh huh.

"C'mere." He stood, arms stretched out.

Fletcher: "What's that?"

Ronan: "A hug!" Fingers wiggle.

Fletcher: "Why?" Still incredulous.

1:59 AM] Ronan: "'cause you definitely need one."

Fletcher: "If ya want a hug just say so."

Ronan: Eyes rolled. Nope! No more talking! Fletcher was going to get a hug whether he wanted one or not. Arms wrap around the other, squeezing tightly, nuzzling in.

Fletcher: Fletcher just stood there awkwardly a moment, staring down, confused. With a soft sigh, he wriggled his arms out to hug Ronan's head to his chest.

Ronan: Arms get a tighter grip. The reaper's eyes close. He could stay there like that forever.

"I missed you."

Fletcher: He wanted to argue that sentiment, but found his throat too dry to bother. He'd rest his chin in that nest of hair instead.

"Gotta get ya better friends, man."

Ronan: "Why?"

Fletcher: "Ya can do fuckin' better."

Ronan: "Compared t'you?" He peeks up at the other.

Fletcher: "Ya think ya can't?"

Ronan: "I don't want anyone else. I don't need it."

Fletcher: "Then I don't deserve ya."

Ronan: "Why're you sayın' this shit?"

Fletcher: "Don't worry 'bout it." He squeezed Ronan's head and released.

Ronan: Fletcher can release but Ronan stayed clinging on. "Fletcher."

Fletcher: "Ronan." The reaper was haphazardly picked up by his back, feet just barely off the ground as he was carried to the living room couch.

Ronan: He yelped, gripping onto the other, instinctively wrapping legs around the other. "Fletcher!"

Fletcher: "Fletcher what?" He was ready to throw the reaper, but seeing as he was attached, he let go altogether, arms hanging at his sides.

Ronan: The reaper dangled for a moment before letting go and collapsing onto the couch. "Why'd you say that?"

Fletcher: "Said what now?" He took to the floor beside him.

Ronan: "That I should find better friends." He reached to toy with Fletcher's hair.

Fletcher: "If you're bein' better, should be with better." The Samsa shrugged.

Ronan: "You're the best there is, y'know."

Fletcher: "Well now, my heart is just fuckin' full."

Ronan: Playing with hair turned into half hanging off the couch to hug around the other's shoulders. "You don't have t'live like this, brother. I swear."

Fletcher: "Live like what?" He leaned his head back, half buried in Ronan's curls.

Ronan: "With some psycho bitch you don't love."

Fletcher: "Can we get off that subject?"

Ronan: "'kay." he kissed Fletcher's cheek. "Let's talk about... how much you missed me an' how much you loooove me."

Fletcher: "I'll stroke your ego all day." He patted Ronan's arm. If it would make the reaper feel better, after what he'd been through.

"How's - the fuck ya call my little toe?"

Ronan: Into the other's neck he nuzzled. "Meara!" after his mother. "She's good... can you still feel it when I touch her?"

Fletcher: "Thought that was your snake." Fletcher turned the TV on, put it on mute. It was just something to do. He attention was on those nuzzles.

"Yeah, I feel it."

Ronan: "Yeah... you used t'be Ava," after his sister, "but the snake's gone now."

Good. That was exactly why he continued to pet her.

Fletcher: "How's it never freaked ya out?"

Ronan: "Guess I'm good with freaky." he giggled, going to bite Fletcher's shoulder.

Fletcher: "Ah. What in -" Ronan's cheek was given a slap. Just hard enough.

Ronan: The reaper whined, pulling back to pout at the other.

Fletcher: "Ya ain't no masochist anymore?"

Ronan: Ronan laughed, "Ooooh, so you did that t'turn me on? I thought you were tryna be a loyal husband."

Fletcher: "Ya slinkin' back like you're bout t'cry."

Ronan: "'cause you didn't let me bite you. That's a crime!"

Fletcher: "I'll hit ya again if ya want."

Ronan: "Don't start what you ain't gonna finish, baby."

Fletcher: "Ya ain't gettin' more than that, n'you'll love it."

Ronan: "You're jus' a big tease, huh?" Take this, bite!

Fletcher: "Mhm. That's me." Ronan was taken by the curls and squeezed.

Ronan: And take this. A kiss to the cheek.

Fletcher: "Ya tryin' t'seduce me?" Time to pull that hair.

Ronan: A sharp inhale, eyes trained on the other. He smirked.

Fletcher: "Not gonna work on me anymore, baby cakes."

Ronan: "So it worked on you before?"

Fletcher: "Ya know it did."

Ronan: "I like it when you say it."

Fletcher: "Feels good, but ya got somethin' better now, don't ya?"

Ronan: "Matheus is diff'rent now."

Fletcher: I know, he almost said. "That a bad thing?"

Ronan: "I dunno if he loves me the same." Oh.

Oh.

Saying it out loud.

Hearing the words himself.

It was a dagger to the heart.

Something flashed in Ronan's eyes. The pain, the suffering, the grotesque shattering in his chest, the vulgar weight on his soul.

Fletcher: "Evil bastards can love people, too. I don't see him changin' his mind 'bout ya." But Ronan was unusually quiet. He began massaging the back of Ronan's head.

Ronan: "But it's not-" the way his voice cracked made lips clamp together. He started to shake his head. He didn't want to cry, but the tears were so determined. "It's not the same. I don't know who he is anymore. An' he made me promise that if he... if he changed, I'm meant t'kill him, but I don't know if this counts an' I don't know what t'do. I jus' want Matheus. I don't want anything else. It's so-it's so unfair that I lost him."

Fletcher: "But did ya lose him? M'bein' serious. Was his... behavior before, so different than now? How dark does he need t'go before it's too far?"

Ronan's happiness was in question, and it seemed worth talking about, before a decision was made the reaper couldn't walk back from.

Ronan: "I don't fuckin' know Fletcher-" he rubbed his wet cheeks, "it's not fair that when I finally get t'be happy for five fuckin' seconds I get taken away an' come back an' everyone acts diff'rent now an' I - I lost everythin'. I jus' want shit the way it was an' I can never go back. I ain't even upset about what Seth did, I don't give a shit what happens t'me, I don't care if Seth stabs me over an' over again for two hundred years straight, I jus' want Matheus t'be okay. I wanna do what he would've wanted me to but I don't know what that is. I fuckin' hate myself every time I look at him 'cause it's... it's my fault. I hurt him. My brothers are all screwed up an' off on their own, too. So what's the fuckin' point? I jus' wanna ask Seth t'kill me 'cause I... I don't fuckin' know."

Fletcher: Felt as though Matheus had given Ronan his humanity, and in the trade, lost himself. A little too poetic for his liking. Not how he usually viewed the world, but in this case, it was impossible to avoid the man that had walked into this town and the man weeping on his couch.

"It ain't right what Seth did. It's his fault. No one else's."

Ronan: "Well ain't like he gives a fuck." he collapsed face down on Fletcher's couch.

Fletcher: "Someone's gotta do somethin' 'bout that prick." But for now, Fletcher was busy combing and de-tangling the mess that was Ronan's hair with a single hand.

Ronan: That soothed him more than he could ever put into words.

"Aidan wants t'try."

Fletcher: "What's Aidan gonna do?"

Ronan: "I dunno. He's tryna figure out if there's a way to take Seth out. Not surprisin' Seth didn't tell us if there's a way to break whatever spell he has over us." A hand settled on top of Fletcher's. Don't you dare pull away.

Fletcher: There was a tangle in need of rescuing. Too preoccupied to move away.

"If I hear anything through the grapevine, I'll let ya know."

Ronan: "Thanks. There were two other guys there, Aidan thinks they'll know, but we don't know 'em or how t'find 'em. Guess that's step one." he grunted at the tug in his hair, "You're gonna make my hair frizz." nothing new, Ronan.

Fletcher: "So put coconut oil or whatever in it. I almost got it."

He thought a moment, looked back at Ronan. "What ya remember 'bout the guys?"

Ronan: Uhh... what did he remember? He squinted, trying to ignore the pull on his head. "They were twins."

Fletcher: "Ya didn't see em?"

Ronan: "I did, that's how I know they're twins. Duh." he reached blindly to whack at the other.

Fletcher: "Ya said Aidan, thought only he saw em or somethin'." No pop on the cheek for that one. That was on him. One last tug and the tangle was free.

Ronan: The final pull made him whine; hand gripped onto Fletcher's. "Aidan thinks they'll know. I dunno. Seth let 'em go. Guess us Archers are jus' so special."

Fletcher: "Ya are, good n'the bad." De-tangled, he began massaging Ronan's scalp to make up for all of the tugging.

Ronan: "Who's the bad?" he peeked at the other.

Fletcher: "Other people doin' what they want with the good."

Ronan: Ronan pouted, but the expression only lasted a moment. "D'you remember our dreams together?"

Fletcher: Fletcher drew a slow breath through his nose. "Not really. Remember we had em, n'they meant somethin'. That's it."

Ronan: "Oh. That's okay."

Fletcher: "Is it really?"

Ronan: "Nah." he grinned.

Fletcher: "Fuck's sake. Why ya askin'?"

Ronan: He laughed, "'cause I wanted to. You got a problem?"

Fletcher: "Yeah, not bein' a telepath."

Ronan: "If you try hard enough you prob'ly could do it. C'mere." he sat up a little and leaned closer to Fletcher's face.

Fletcher: "Ya can't do it either. What ya gonna do?"

Fletcher just indulged, arm resting on the cushion. "Gonna look deeply in each other's eyes and think dirty thoughts?"

Ronan: Fingers went to clamp on the back of Fletcher's neck to bring their foreheads together. "Also thought I couldn't walk into people's dreams," he closed his eyes, "but here we are."

Fletcher: This wouldn't last long, even to please Ronan, before the Samsa began to snort, failing to hold back a chortle at their ridiculousness. At least it seemed that way to him. He couldn't hear a thing.

Ronan: Yeah, Ronan couldn't hear anything either, and Fletcher's laugh caused the reaper to laugh, too. "You don't take me serious, huh?!"

Fletcher: "I take ya serious. I don't take this serious." He patted Ronan's cheek. "Give ya credit for tryin'."

Ronan: He scoffed, "I deserve more than credit. Give me a million dollars."

Fletcher: "Give yourself a million dollars."

Ronan: "I ain't rich anymore you dick."

Fletcher: "What happened t'your empire of drugs?"

Ronan: "Ditched that years ago brother, when I started studyin'."

Fletcher: "Huh. Goin' back t'school?"

Ronan: "Yeah... eventually. You gonna come too?"

Fletcher: "I've already graduated, brother. Gonna support ya from right here."

Ronan: "What did you study?"

Fletcher: Fletcher didn't hesitate like he used to. No longer mentioned his first attempt and ultimate change.

"Business. Always knew the shop was comin' t'me."

Ronan: "Damn. Why ain't you a millionaire then, huh? I never studied business."

Fletcher: "Some of us don't wanna own the world."

Ronan: "Sounds shit, brother." Ah... "When's your psycho bride gonna come home?"

Fletcher: "She'll text 'fore she gets back. I dunno, dinnertime?"

Ronan: "Oh okay. I gotta make sure she don't catch me here, right?"

Fletcher: Fletcher studied his guest a moment before his confession. "I don't trust ya t'behave."

Ronan: Ronan laughed, "Good choice." He patted Fletcher's head. "I'd kill her if I could, y'know."

Fletcher: "Glad ya don't wonder why you're not trusted."

Ronan: "I'm realistic an' honest. Unlike you."

Fletcher: "Mhm. This is where ya go home."

Ronan: Pout! "No."

Fletcher: "No?" The Samsa laughed. "Just no?"

Ronan: "Yeah! No!"

Fletcher: "Five minutes n'I'm pickin' ya up."

Ronan: "Why'd'you haaaate me?!" He groaned, collapsing onto the couch, pretending to die.

Fletcher: Moving on. "What are ya goin' t'school for this time?"

Ronan: Rude! The dead person came back to life.

"Same thing. Jus' finishin' off what I started. What else would I do, y'know? I'm shit at everything else."

Fletcher: Ronan was given an unimpressed stare. "Everything? Fuckin' everything?"

Ronan: "I mean, I don't think I can get a degree in being sexy." Wink wink.

Fletcher: "That's called prostitution, or model, orrrr escort, or femme fatale."

Ronan: "Are any of those degrees?"

Fletcher: "Wouldn't be surprised. Could ya imagine?" He smirked, shook his head. "They know what you’re up to? Your fam."

Ronan: "I pick model." As much as he loved sex and would love to be paid for it... all the other options sounded panic attack-inducing.

"They... not really. I haven't spoken t'em."

Fletcher: "None of em? Not one since y'all left?"

Ronan: "I... we kinda spoke on the way back but that's it. Everyone wants their space right now, I guess."

Fletcher: Fletcher couldn't understand the family. Not after what Luke described. Why weren't they watching Ronan like a hawk, after everything he'd been through, he hasn't a fucking clue.

"Ya should tell big brother Aidan. He'd... be proud. Sean would write ya a song."

Ronan: They had all been traumatised, too.

"Yeah, you're prob'ly right." He shrugged from his laying position. "You proud of me, Fletcher?"

Fletcher: There was no need to hesitate. He had his concerns, but, "Yeah. Course I am. Ya should be, too."

Ronan: "You loooove me?" Long eyelashes fluttered.

Fletcher: "Guess so." He ruffled that untangled hair.

Ronan: "Then don't make me leave!"

Fletcher: "That ain't gonna work on me. 'Bout t'pick ya up." Getting to his feet to do just that.

Ronan: "Fletcherrrr!" he'll be dead weight!

Fletcher: It was only a few feet to the door. He debated on dragging this dead weight, but he could hold the reaper bridal style with ease. He wasn't that heartless.

"Ya ain't got nowhere else t'be?"

Ronan: "Like where?" dead!

Fletcher: "Home? Workin' on that homework, old man?"

Ronan: "The only place I have t'be is hereeee."

Fletcher: "Ya tryin' t'be romantic?"

Ronan: "Is it workin'?"

Fletcher: "Nope."

Ronan: "Liar."

Fletcher: "Look, come back tomorrow. Same time. Okay? We'll go n'do somethin'."

Ronan: Oh, well that worked! The reaper seemed happier than ever. "You promise? Promise!"

Fletcher: "What? Fuckin' sure. Promise. Now get the hell outta here." Ronan was brought to the door and given a pat.

Ronan: Despite his now good mood, Ronan huffed.

"Fine. See you tomorrow, baby. No backsies!" he edged out the door slowly.

Fletcher: "Tomorrow." He could keep that promise, he assumed. No plans for himself nor a peep from his wife. A final ruffle of Ronan's hair, and the door was shut and locked.