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The sun was out and unseasonably warm in the afternoon sky. Adam sat in the driver's seat of his Honda, quiet as the grave. He'd just driven through the poorer side of Henrietta and down an old and familiar dirt track. To his left stood a bank of familiar rusted mailboxes. He hadn't been here since the summer, yet it felt like it was yesterday that he and Ronan had left here with his meager belongings, his left ear roaring and his very soul feeling like it'd been ripped asunder.

The trailer park sat unchanged, a collection of the lowest rung of the financially insecure in the small town. He'd done so much, made more progress than he'd ever hoped to, and still there was the feeling like he'd never amount to more than this place. Yet still he couldn't go in, crippled by fear. Fear of his father. Fear that he wouldn't be able to leave once he went in. Most of all, though, fear that he would finally be as hated by his mother as much as his father feared him. He'd taken off his Aglionby sweater, chosen not to drive the Bentley, and made sure anything of his he'd gotten since leaving this place, anything of value greater than this place, was unseen. His hands ached in the cold and he had to fight the urge to lick them as they started to chap.

He almost forgot about his father's lack of a job before the man himself drove by in his old pickup, passing him with a few of his buddies in tow, no doubt trying to find a bar to crawl into and not come out of until the next day, stinking drunk and angrier than a starved lion. Fear kept him glued in his seat, watching with wide eyes as the man turned right next to him.

And kept driving.

This was a bad idea. He knew it now, even while he knew this was the last time Robert would be home for the rest of the weekend, if his mother was lucky. The wrapped present for her stood sentinel in the back seat as he contemplated whether he should go on or not.

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Ronan trusts very few people. At the top of his list of people not to trust Robert Parrish sits. Holding the present in his arms with that look on his face it didn't take much to figure out that something was going on. It took even less effort to bully his way into the passengers seat of the Honda.

Ronan Lynch didn't accept the word no for an answer on a good day. Today there was a snowballs chance in hell he would back down and let Adam go alone.

Sitting in the passengers seat he stares at the mobile home. Not even hearing the rattle of the old pickup trucks exhaust gets his attention. He knows who it is.

"What did you get her?" He asks, still watching the tin can house with venom in his eyes. Ronan hoped Parrish had bought her a clue or some common sense, for once he bit his tongue and kept his words to himself.

"It's. It's a new dish set. She was always saying how we needed new ones." He kept that the reason she said this was because of Robert's infamous tirades, even worse than Adam's at his least reasonable. Beneath the dishes was also a hundred dollar bill that took Adam much debate with himself to part with, but eventually decided to. She needed it more than he did at this point, and maybe she wouldn't bring it to Robert's attention. There was no note, no tag saying anything except his mother's name in a nondescript font on a piece of paper.

Ronan once saved him from his father, and probably would again with no question, but the memory of that night at St. Agnes comes unbidden to his mind, that day nameless terror struck him as his father tried to bully him into dropping charges. Ronan was still in the building and hadn't come to save him that night. He hadn't checked in on him before he left, and Adam was left alone with his fear. It wasn't fair to hold it against him and he tried his best not to, but his fear betrayed him, planting thoughts in his head. He can't save you. No one can.

He tried to push it aside, to just keep going, but it was as if something physical kept him from making the move back into that place. "I don't know if I can do this." It was the only inclination he gave about what was going on inside his head.

Of all the things Niall Lynch had given his middle son his brash sense of self confidence was the loudest, followed by his violent fists. That confidence made Ronan seem fearless. If he could give something meaningful to Adam for Christmas he would give him his confidence.

"What she needs is a lifetime supply of paper plates and rubber walls," A breath is hugged out against the glass. "Furniture without sharp edges or corners."

Ronan knew that only one other person could really understand the extent of Robert's temper and that would have to be his mother.

Finally his stormy blue eyes found Adam's. "I'll take it to her."

"He doesn't hurt her," he said defensively, but the unspoken much hung in the air between them. Ronan could give Adam all the confidence in the world, but it would never matter. At least not with this. While Ronan Lynch learned to fight, Adam learned to take a hit. Where Ronan learned to stand upright and be as loud as he wanted, Adam had learned to cower and mind himself so as not to be on anyone's bad side.

He shook his head adamantly. Even through his fear, he wouldn't let him. "She knows you're a Raven Boy. You guys aren't liked at all around here."

He snorts at that. "When are you going to stop protecting him? Thought we were past that bullshit." Or so he had hoped.

Ronan smirked at him, his lip pinching up only at one corner. His eyes closed briefly and he shook his head. "Just because you took that sweater off and you work for a living doesn't mean you aren't one of us, Parrish. You're just as Raven as the rest of us."

Giving up he turned and grabbed the package from the backseat. Then quickly got out of the car.

"I'm not protecting him." Maybe he was, but it wasn't something he would consciously entertain. He got out of the car with Ronan, not willing to let him go on his own, even going so far as to snatch the gift from his hands.

He met Ronan's gaze with one of his own. "You know what I meant. I go to Aglionby but I'm not a Raven Boy like you are. Raven Boys are rich kids who don't have to worry about money or bills and do whatever they want and have trust funds and can go to college without scholarships or good grades." An old bit of Adam edged into his voice, the insanely jealous part that both loved and hated Ronan at the same time, for everything Ronan was and everything Adam was not. A small part of him welled up in there and admonished him for thinking and believing that someone like Ronan could ever want him when this is where he came from.

Adam tried stamping it out before he could bring himself to look at his friend again. "At least take the sweater off." He then began to force himself the rest of the way down the dirt track, beyond the rusted old bank of mailboxes and toward the place that shaped who he was.

"The fuck you aren't."

His eyes are edging toward angry. Of anyone he thought Adam knew him the best. Then he said things that made him wonder if he knew him at all. "Don't you ever forget that I don't come from old money like most of those fucks. That everything I have was stolen by my father. That he died for all the fucking unnecessary bullshit he thought we needed." When all I wanted was him, Ronan thought. "Everything I am came from a goddamn dream."

He yanked his sweater up and over his head angrily, wadded it up and threw it at the Honda. It left him in nothing but a blank tank top in the December temperatures. Not that he looked cold or even shivered against the chill that nipped at his skin.

Adam knew that he could probably be hurting Ronan, but this place always brought out the worst in him. He didn't acknowledge his words, only quietly thankful that Ronan had still listened to him about removing the sweater. He continued the trek down the dirt road of the park proper, throwing his hood up over his head. Seeing Ronan in his Aglionby sweater would be a giveaway if anyone saw him walking through and Robert asked. Seeing Adam would have the news come surely even if Robert inquired or not.

The lights were off in the trailer, no car visible in sight, and Adam knew that she wasn't there. Was she working still? He had no way of knowing, but he wasn't planning to stick around long enough to find out.

As they approached, wild barking came out from beneath the flooring of Adam's double-wide, taking his mind off the mission even as an object darted out toward them. The object slowed before it bowled into either of them, and Adam's anger and fear nearly broke. "Gunnar?" His voice cracked as the dog pranced around in front of him, yapping happily. He almost dropped the box just to hug the dog, but he remembered before it was too late the contents. Instead he kept walking, trying to fight tears as the dog kept loping between both Adam and Ronan, sick with happiness at seeing them. He looked around until eventually he saw the dog's bowls, one for food, one for water, and both woefully empty, hidden within the tall grass that grew around the trailer.

He placed the box there, next to the dishes, and Gunnar took it as his cue to pounce on Adam, licking at him happily. Adam in turn hugged the dog fiercely, pressing his face into the dog's neck. "I missed you, boy."

If Adam hadn't stopped and put the box down Ronan would have taken it back from him. Watching that dog prance around anxiously waiting for Adam's attention poked at soft spots inside of him. Hidden places full of memories of waiting at the gate of The Barns for his father to come racing toward the house in his magical car.

Ronan bent down and picked up the dogs dishes. "You got a leash for him?"

Obviously they weren't leaving without the dog. Ronan was mentally kicking himself for not thinking of coming back here to rescue the mutt for Adam.

Holding the dog dishes in his hand he takes a step back. "We'll need to get something so we can tie him up outside if he wants to go out so he doesn't come running back to this place." When Ronan said 'place' it sounded like a dirty word.

It took a moment for Adam to answer, but he pointed to an area in the carport that had a lot of the things that they used outside. "It should be over there." He should have been cautious. Gunnar was unleashed most days, but he still always stayed around the trailer. Still, it wasn't even a question of if the dog was going with them, even for Adam.

Adam stood up then, letting the dog go, who still refused to leave his side. Gunnar at least stopped yapping, opting instead to bound and prance around Adam, obviously happy he was with him. He looked around, trying to see if there was anything else he wanted while he was here, but spotted nothing.

Except a rock.

His eyes lasered in on them, and dark desire sparked inside him, something he couldn't and wouldn't resist. Not this time. He headed toward it and picked it up, letting it move through his aching hands. The rock wasn't any warmer and grated against his dry skin. It had good weight. Before he could convince himself otherwise, he whirled around and sent it sailing, knocking against the side of the house with a pleasing thud.

Then he found another. WHACK! And another. CRASH! And so on, unable to stop himself, denting the walls, breaking windows, and not so much as even a commotion from any of the nearby trailers. It became all he could focus on, punctuating each throw with an angered shout, huffing with his exertion as he repeated. Pick. Throw. Crash. Again. And again. And again. It felt so good that he couldn't stop himself from it at all.

Ronan wandered off to find the things for the dog. He came across a leash and a stake with a tether for tying him out. Dogs were loyal shits and even though this dog loved Adam it might still have that instinct to run home. This was what he knew. Until he got use to being at Monmouth, anyway.

The first crash made him jump. Turning around fast he was shocked to see Adam hurling rocks at his childhood home. He leaves him to it, for the time being. It's heartbreaking to watch. Ronan squats down and calls the dog over to keep him out of the line of fire. For a minute he gets absorbed in rubbing Gunnar's head and scratching his ears.

When it's at that point that he starts to worry about cops getting called Ronan gets up. He stands behind Adam and when he puts his arms down from the last throw Ronan wraps his arms around him, pinning his arms to his side. He doesn't say anything, just holds him in a tight hug.

He was in his own world by that point, letting out all the grief and rage he'd held back for this place that he hadn't let out or directed at people who didn't deserve it. Because while an ashamed part of him would return in a heartbeat, this was still the place that had made the worst part of him. Where he resisted friendship for most of his life. Where he learned to resent Gansey for the things he had and the person he was when he neither deserved it nor controlled that aspect of his life. Where he learned to covet all of them for the things he never had growing up. Where he learned to eschew concern for him while still craving affection. Where he learned anger and frustration, things that ultimately cost him his relationship with Blue. Where he learned love came with pain, and so he caused all of them that in one way or another. Where he learned self doubt and fear, which cost him his relationship with Ronan before it ever truly began. Where he learned to judge, which made the path to friendship with Kavinsky harder than it had to be. Where pragmatism was more valued than idealism, which killed Whelk and sown the horrific seeds for Greenmantle's undoing. Where a monster lived, who in turn made his son into one. Where he was taught to turn everything he touched into dust, except for the place that truly deserved it. But Robert Parrish taught him well. If he couldn't turn this place into dust, he would reduce it to ruins.

He was stopped only by the feel of strong arms taking hold of him and he started with a small cry. At first he thought it was Robert, returned too soon from whatever hole he had decided to crawl into for the weekend, but soon he was enveloped by the smell of Gasoline and mist and moss and Ronan, and the fear turned to shame. He started fighting, trying to make it to another stone. "No! Damn it, Ronan! I have to!" He fought and shouted, but Ronan was too strong for him, and eventually the urge began to subside, leaving Adam weak, depending more on Ronan than himself to stay upright.

He turned in his arms, the fight gone and letting his hands wrap around Ronan's torso tightly, sobbing into his neck. It was grief and anger both, for his mother who still hadn't found the courage to stand up for herself and leave. For himself who needed the threat of the only person in his life who refused to take his shit being taken away to find his own. For the boy who grew up too ugly and too soon. For the man Robert could have been. For the family that never was.

Eventually even that ended, and in its wake there was nothing save for the heaving of Adam's body trying to reset itself in the aftermath of his fury and sadness. When he spoke, it was hoarse from his crying and devoid of anything. "Why couldn't they love me?" He was beyond caring how people would view him in that moment. "How come I'm not worth it?"

"They didn't know how." That was the only thing Ronan could think of. He didn't know how they couldn't love their son. Why they thought it was okay to abuse him and make him afraid. Ronan grew up with love and affection, unconditionally, always sure that no matter what his parents loved him. How anyone could be any different he didn't know.

"You're worth it to us. Fuck them. You've always belonged to us you just had to find your way here." He held him tight and he held him close. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this to find us."

Against his skin, he could feel leaves and branches brushing against him, Cabeswater stirring and trying to lend its own hand in comforting him. Eventually Adam calmed enough that even his breathing became normal, and he felt it safe enough to pull away. Gunnar came over then, licking Adam's hand uncertainly before Adam scratched his head lightly.

"We've been here too long. We should go."

Ronan rubbed a hand over Adam's head as he nodded. He took a deep breath, looking past his friend at the trailer. Later he would pay someone to come fix this because he knew eventually Adam would beat himself up over it.

"Yeah, we should. I'll drive. Get your monster."

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