Something must have happened.

Something that excluded every other solution – every other option than this one.

Something that made Ronan Lynch, against all odds, use his phone.

Gansey stared at his display for a few seconds, reading the name it showed over and over again to make sure he wasn't wrong, that he hadn't mistaken it. To clarify, it wasn't the first time Ronan used his phone to contact him. There have been like two or three occasions during the last years when Ronan had texted or even called him. For example, Matthew's farewell party last year. But since Gansey had left with Blue Sargent, Henry Cheng and their two Camaros for Venezuela, Ronan Lynch had never – not even once called him. He had texted him. A very few times, like "Shall the new Cabeswater have a mint-tree forest?" or "Tell your damn girlfriend to stop spamming me! Like, what the fucking hell, don't you have better stuff to do?"

Gansey had contacted him, of course. He phoned him several times the month and told him everything that had happened during the last weeks. He could talk for hours about the myths and legends they had heard of. About the cultures, they had explored. Gansey loved to talk about the things he loved. Ronan didn't. He would just grumble a few answers and when his friend pushed him he would give a short report about the new Cabeswater he was creating or how Adam, Opal or Chainsaw was doing. Ronan deserved an A+ in making one sentence summaries. Gansey was okay with that. He knew Ronan so he didn't expect him to do any different. As long as everything remained the usual, he wouldn't need to talk to him. Gansey knew he talked to Adam. Sometimes. Because occasionally, Adam would call him, complain about his stubborn boyfriend or just tell Gansey what was going on. Like this, Gansey wouldn't need to worry and could accept Ronan's mumbled "fine" as a satisfying answer.

But still, there was Ronan's name lighting up on Gansey's phone – and it chased his heartbeat into unhealthy heights. Something bad must have happened, Gansey thought, swallowed the mint leaf which had rested between his teeth and picked up.

"Ronan? Is everything alright?"

"No hello for your old friend?" Ronan asked with a hoarse voice. He sounded nervous.

"Are you okay? Is Adam okay? What has happened?"

"Shit, calm down, man. No one died."

"You never call me, Ronan. Not even on my birthday. How am I supposed to stay calm?" Gansey rubbed his forehead and tried to calm his breath. No one died – at least that was for sure.

"I did call you on your birthday."

"You sent me a mashup of the Murder Squash Song and Happy Birthday. That doesn't count as a call."

"Well, next time I will sing it to you in person if it that's what you –"

"Damn it, Lynch," Gansey interrupted him. "Why did you call me?"

"I wanted to hear your voice."

"Yeah, screw you, Ronan."

Ronan laughed. But something sounded wrong about it. As if it wasn't honest.

"What is it?" Gansey asked again, softer this time. He didn't want to brush him off. Not when there was something serious going on – something that made Ronan Lynch voluntarily pick up a phone.

"It's Adam," Ronan said. His voice sounded absent. Like his thoughts were already pulled into another direction – away from now and Gansey; back to something that had happened before.

"What is with Adam?" Gansey asked carefully – determined not to scare him away. Ronan didn't reply for three whole minutes. Gansey knew the exact amount of time because he was staring at a clock which hung directly above his desk. When the second hand hit the twelve a third time, he couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"Come on, man. You know you can talk to me about this stuff."

To be perfectly honest, he wasn't sure if Ronan knew he could. But Gansey thought that when he could talk about – or at least tell Ronan about his relationship with Blue – which he did, almost every time he called, Ronan would know that he could, too. But he never did before. Because he never talked about anything. Words – they just weren't Ronan's way to communicate.

"Isn't Adam at the barns this week?" Gansey said, trying to sound unconcerned. Even he could tell he failed.

"Yeah," Ronan replied. It was the kind of yeah that usually followed a but, but no matter how long Gansey waited for it to be spoken, it didn't come.

"Did you two had a fight?"

Silence.

Or in other words:

You can't even imagine.

Right in the second, Gansey wanted to start a wise talk about the complexity of relationships and the complete ordinary arguments that come with it, Ronan made use of his voice again.

"Adam's gone." He pushed the words out of his mouth like he wanted to get rid of something that burned his tongue. "We fought. Doors were slammed. Curses flew. He drove away. Opal screamed. He is gone and won't come back. That's it. Here you have it. Happy?"

When Adam had first approached Gansey to tell him about Ronan and the feelings he might have for him – Ronan for Adam and Adam for Ronan, Gansey knew that this was serious. This wasn't a small crush which would vanish after a couple of weeks. This was something with full heart and head and if it would break somehow, it would leave them both in pieces.

Gansey also knew it wasn't the first time they had fought. They fought a lot. Blue said it was their way to express their love for each other. Henry agreed. Gansey didn't know. But in all this time they have been together now, they had never talked about a breakup. Ronan had never turned to Gansey for help. Ronan had never called Gansey.

But now he had. This was serious. This was breaking into pieces.

During the first ten seconds of silence, Gansey had allowed himself to think this through so he would find the right response, a thousand questions rushed through his head. When did it happen? Have you heard anything from Adam since then? What did you two fight about? What did you say to make him leave?

Then he thought about ways how he could talk sense into Ronan again. Like Shit, Ronan, you need to talk to him. Why can't you guys just talk? You always have to slam doors and storm off instead of just talking to each other like normal human beings! Just speak to him. I'm sure you can fix this – if anyone then you. You have to.

Really, they had to.

Because what was happening if they didn't? Everything – their whole group would fall apart. Ronan would fall apart – that was for granted. And Gansey would be the one who had to put his pieces back together. But Gansey wasn't there.

All these thoughts flashed up in his mind within twenty seconds.

Then he said while wrinkling his forehead: "Didn't you just celebrate your anniversary last week?"

This wasn't the right response.

"What? Yes… we…How do you even know that shit?" Gansey heard Ronan shifting in front of his phone. A loud rustle and a soft, hoarse cry of a raven told him that Ronan had sat up. Chainsaw must be bothered by this.

"Adam told me," Gansey said and cleared his throat. "He said you had planned something."

Ronan let out a loud snort. "Ha, I'm glad I never have to care about this mindfucking crap again."

"Stop talking like this. You know you don't mean it."

"Do I? I wouldn't be that sure, Gansey."

Gansey exhaled deeply. He knew that whenever one of his friends turned to him – when they spilled out their concerns and feelings to him – they wanted something. Something very specific. They already knew what they wanted – what they needed him to say so they would be satisfied. The problem was: Gansey didn't. He had to guess what they needed to hear. And this wasn't always as easy as to tell Adam that he should be honest with himself. Well, maybe it was when he thought about it longer. All Ronan had to do was to be honest with himself and with Adam. Gansey was pretty sure that a good talk between the two of them could solve this. But Gansey was also pretty sure that Ronan wouldn't be satisfied with this answer. Ronan needed strict instructions. The problem was: Gansey didn't have the manual.

"Tell me, Ronan. Why are you so upset?"