Chapter 4

Adam:

"Don't worry, Adam, this form is perfect. You'll be off to Germany in no time, and you've already been guaranteed a job at the school library in compensation for taking off time from your other jobs here. We have another round of study abroad coming up as soon as two weeks for the Spring-Summer semester right after Spring Break. I would start packing my bags, Mr. Parrish," the guidance counselor told him, smiling winningly at him. His eyes travelled up and down Adam, making no effort to hide his interest. It had been happening ever since he'd come in a few weeks back. Even after Natalie, he wasn't used to being appraised as if he had worth, as if he was wanted.

He forced a smile onto his lips, ignoring the tick of anger and jealousy, irrational and hot, that sparked at the base of his skull. "Thank you, I'll be sure to. Thank you for all the help."

The man smiled. "Of course. Don't hesitate to call me for anything. Don't forget that party I told you about. I would love to see you there."

'I'm sure you would,' Adam thought nastily, a sneer at the edges of his lips.

Pushing away the strange emotions, not allowing his smile to falter, he nodded before turning and fleeing from the room. He slammed into the bathroom, checking the lone stall the male bathroom had before locking the door. Dropping his satchel onto the counter, he stared into the mirror, waiting, hoping, wondering if he would see him.

Patience was something he was good at, so he stood there, staring into a silver surface, waiting for someone who may never turn up.

Just as he was ready to give up, go to the class he was about to miss, Ronan took his place in the mirror. He was running his fingers over the bruises beneath his eyes, the fading green-yellow splotch across his cheekbone, the circle of a bite mark over his shoulder, then down to the raised scars beneath the muscle of his chest. His fingers were long and delicate, gently running along his skin, as if trying to learn himself, know himself.

When his eyes flickered back to his face, dark and searching, his hands stilled, and he reeled back with a hissed, "What the actual fuck?" His arms flew up subconsciously, crossing and covering his scars.

Adam stepped back, embarrassment burning a trail up his neck. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he said quickly, dropping his eyes, "I wasn't trying to be creepy."

"Well, you fucking were," Ronan snapped.

Adam curled further in on himself. "Sorry," he repeated.

They were silent, Adam stealing glances up at Ronan every few moments, Ronan keeping his eyes trained on him. Sighing as he grabbed a tank top, pulling it over his head, Ronan said, "Okay, spill it. Why do you look like someone kicked your puppy? Does this with have to do with Noah's sister? Because I'm really not equipped to deal with that bullshit."

Adam blinked at him, mouth opening and closing with each response he considered. He couldn't exactly deny that his best friend returning to Germany had killed all good will he'd been building since moving away from his father, but he was sure it hadn't been the reason for his mood. "I… I don't know," he told Ronan truthfully, "I just know that I wanted to see you again." The heat at his neck found its way to his cheeks where his pulse beat rapidly beneath the thin skin, and he spluttered.

Ronan ran a hand over his shaved head, staring off at something Adam couldn't see. "Does it have something to do with that creepy ass counselor dude you were talking to?"

There was that spike of jealousy and anger he'd felt early. Adam wondered silently if Ronan was where that one lone, out of place thought had come from as well.

When Adam didn't reply, Ronan offered, "Let's go get a drink then."

Adam couldn't hold back his snort. "I don't drink."

Ronan rolled his eyes. "Goody two shoes, figures. Fine, then let's go dance."

"We're not on the same continent, let alone in the same country," Adam pointed out.

Ronan rolled his eyes hard enough that Adam was sure it had hurt. "That obviously didn't stop us last time."

Ronan:

Ronan snarled in something close to agony, curling in on himself. He'd forgotten just how painful periods were, but Blue's, admittedly, were especially painful, mind blanking white with the twisting in his abdomen. He pressed his cheek again the edge of his tub, resisting the urge to vomit with what little strength he possessed. He could not fathom exactly how Blue was up and walking while being stabbed repeatedly. Currently, he was wishing he could reach through their connection and strangle her.

"I hate you right now," he growled, using his shower curtain to pull himself back to his feet unsteadily.

Blue was there beside him as he dropped down onto his couch, letting his head lull against the back. "I know, but I'm only slightly sorry. I don't wish this on anyone, but it's nice to have someone to share my pain with."

"Bitch," Ronan muttered without malice, rolling his head slowly on his shoulders, "I need ice cream and chocolate and, shit, just everything. I want to eat everything. I will eat the world."

Smirking, Blue patted his knee comfortingly. "Tea. That's usually what I use to curb that so I don't go getting fat in a week. Speaking of which, a cup of tea sounds perfect before work." She stood, moving through her cramped kitchen where everyone in her home seemed to be at that moment, yelling at someone everyone else couldn't see or shuffling stacks tarot cards with practiced ease. When she dropped back down beside Ronan, she held a cup of steaming water and steeping leaves.

"What is that?" Ronan asked, wrinkling his smirk in mock disgust. His code of conduct wouldn't allow him to show actual interest or acceptance of something other than beer and possible partners. It smelled stupidly satisfying, his mouth watering at just the smell, sweet and ripe.

"Tea. Want to try some?" Blue offered him the cup, raising and eyebrow at him in challenge.

His nose wrinkling just that much more, he took the cup, muttering, "I guess so." The liquid slipped over his tongue, warm and fruity. He suppressed a sigh of relief as the roiling in his stomach calmed and his cravings all, but disappeared.

"Didn't I tell you it would work?" Blue asked smugly, allowing herself a prideful smirk, "Tea, an amazing substance when brewed correctly."

"Whatever, it's just leaf water," Ronan told her, but didn't return her cup until he'd taken another sip.

"Sure, just keep telling yourself that." They both sat back against the couch, watching the commotion of Blue's kitchen in comfortable silence.

Blue:

Blue was resisting the urge to punch her customer with every ounce of patience she possessed. She knew that Ronan's ever present fury was poisoning any good mood she had managed to preserve from her quiet sit with him, but she also knew that her own flip of the switch temper played a major role in her sudden urge to maim the boy sitting on the outside of the tiny booth. He was surrounded by his friends, grinning cockily at her as they laughed around him.

Gritting her teeth, she allowed herself one precious moment to imagine the look of surprise that would cross his face if she struck him. "Could I get your drink orders and your order if you are ready so I can get that in and out to you?" she asked more politely than she believed the table deserved. The lone girl gave her an apologetic glance, her head lowered as if she was looking to be saved. Blue held little sympathy for her, though, because she was not making a sound to curb their unwelcome remarks.

"I'd like to get in and out of you, darling," the boy told her, waggling his eyebrows.

"Sir, I don't think you understand just how inappropriate you are being. I would greatly appreciate it if you would resist from using any pet names to refer to me, and simply stop talking to me the way you have been," Blue said, her smile becoming an easier kind of acting. She allowed herself to be pushed to the back of her mind, her body handed over to Gansey.

The group jerked their eyes up to him, silence falling over them. The girl stared at him in awe as the boy beside her spluttered, "W-w-well, I don't think you understand just how fuckable you look in that uniform. I can say what I want."

Gansey blinked at him for one long silent moment until he was sure the boy was sufficiently uncomfortable. "I have been incredibly civil and respectful to you, and you have repaid me with dirty comments and sexual harassment. Now, let me give you a warning before all of my civility dissolves. If you make one more comment, I will go find my manager and allow him to deal with you."

"Don't be like that. We just want to have a little fun," the boy said, smile turning cocky again, a hand slipping beneath the skirt of Blue's uniform to cup her backside.

Blue struck out before Gansey could restrain her. Her palm cracked across the boy's cheek, the contact sounding over the music. Turning on a heel, she stormed away.

"Go find your manager. Tell him what happened before that group does," Gansey told her as he hurried beside her. He glanced over his shoulder, ignoring the shouts they were throwing at Blue.

Pausing, Blue cut her eyes to him. "Thank you… for trying to help the situation, even though it really didn't."

A hand, small and delicate, clamped down on her shoulder. She whirled around, ready to slap someone else only to find the girl from the table smiling at her. "Thank you so much for hitting him. I've been trying to pluck up the courage to do that for hours now."

Beside her, Gansey let out a soft laugh.

Gansey:

'Dick, what the hell am I looking at?' Helen yelled.

Gansey jerked away from his cell so violently that it went clattering to the top of his desk. Rubbing at his neck and shoulder where he'd been cradling it, he pressed it back to his ear. "Helen, you're going to have to be a little more specific. I can't actually see what you're looking at. And please don't yell. I like my hearing undamaged."

He could almost hear her rolling her eyes over the static filled line. 'Don't play dumb with me. This airline ticket to Ireland on your credit card.'

Gansey narrowed his eyes in something close to irritation. "Why are you looking at my credit statement?"

'I thought I'd used the wrong card. I was going to pay you back. Back to the real subject here. You realize you scheduled this over Dad's birthday, correct? You said you'd come home for it next week.'

"I said I'd try," he corrected, glancing over to the carryon he had open on his bed. He'd had to wash all of his laundry when he'd gotten back, and now was having to repack it. "And at the present moment, I have a pressing matter to attend to in Ireland. I can't put it off."

'Does this have to do with your thesis? If so, that's acceptable, but if it has anything to do with that Welsh king or those sensates you're always on about, it most certainly is not. Birthdays are non-skip-able events. We agreed on this when you moved to England.'

He considered lying, but thought better of it. Instead, he said, "Tell Dad I said that I'm sorry I'll be missing his birthday. I'll call him."

'Dick-' Her voice cut out as Gansey pressed the end button.

Sighing loudly, Gansey ran his hands down his face, staring up at the ceiling. He jumped as Noah's voice drifted over him.

"So, you're going to go meet Ronan? Isn't that, like, against the rules or something?" he asked, sitting on the edge of Gansey's bed, glancing surreptitiously into his bag.

"Against the rules of what?"

"Of being a sensate. That's what we are, right? I've seen your thesis, and I've heard Blue's family talking about it when she wasn't paying attention," Noah explained, looking around the room curiously, "Does your sister know that your thesis more or less is about sensates?"

Gansey cocked his head at him, ignoring his question. "Why would it be against the rules?" he asked instead.

Noah frowned down at his feet, kicking his legs. "Well, I mean, we're already all connected. Wouldn't it be breaking the rules to also be physically in the same place?"

"I don't know. We'll find out, I guess."

"Would it stop you even if it was against the rules?"

"No."

Noah grinned. "Tell him to take you to one of his fights. I want to watch it."

Noah:

"This is a really fucking bad idea, Noah." Ronan walked beside him, long strides closing the distance to the building without effort. "You should turn back now before anything goes wrong. There's still time. Really, just do it. You roommate can do with on his own since he's so determined to. It was his idea."

Noah sighed, tugging at the cuffs of the soft, black leather gloves that he'd scrounged up on Ronan's insistence. Barry had refused the set of rubber gloves he'd unearthed from beneath the bathroom sink, as if his fingerprints wouldn't be left the same as Noah's. He jogged ahead of them between the leaning buildings, searching for the window he'd marked on the blueprints. "I know, but I can't just leave him alone, and he's not going to listen to me anyway."

"Well, why the fuck not?" Ronan snapped, rolling his eyes as Barry jumped at a window more than a few feet above him.

Noah cut Ronan a tired gaze. "Would you just leave your friend?" Ronan didn't respond because they both knew the answer.

With a snarl and sigh of his own, Ronan pushed Barry out of the way, jumping and pulling himself onto the small ledge with practiced ease. Experimentally, ignoring Barry's annoyed cry, he tested the window. It was locked, as he would have expected. Pulling off Noah's baggy black sweater, he wrapped it around his fist and smashed through the window. Barry squeaked below him, but once the clatter of glass had faded, all was silent.

"Don't cut yourself. Leaving blood when you could have avoided it is a stupid way to get caught," Ronan instructed him, watching Noah carefully climb through the window. He landed on plush carpet in a freezing bedroom. The bed sheets were rumpled, clothes spread across the floor, but it had the smell of not having been lived in for a few weeks.

Noah turned back to the window, watching as Barry clambered through it, leaving a smear of blood on the windowsill. Without considering what he was doing, he grabbed a shirt from the floor, mopped up his hand and the windowsill untidily, and threw it back to the floor. Beside Noah, Blue winced and rolled her eyes. "You're going to need bleach for that later," she told him.

"What are we looking for? What room is it supposed to be in?" Noah asked quietly, opening the door a crack to peek into the hall.

"We're looking for a map. It's supposed to be nearly a century old, so handle any you find very carefully. It's supposed to be in a study. The pretentious bastard probably has it hung up on a wall like a trophy," Barry told him without moderating his voice, jerking the door out of Noah's careful fingers and striding through it, leaving a smear of blood on the handle. The door slammed against the bedroom wall. "There's nobody home. The guy went to some auction in Whales. He's not due back for another week."

Blue stared after him as he disappeared into the hall. "Is your friend stupid?" she asked Noah, "The guy has to have neighbors he's friendly with. If they hear him in here, they're going to start to get suspicious."

"I wonder that myself sometimes." Following after him, Noah crept more cautiously from the room, turning down the hall in the opposite direction Barry had gone. There was only one other door down his end of the hallway.

Blue stopped him in front of it, his boot inches from the door. "Hold on, I think there's something here." Getting down on her knees, she peered at a faint green line she could see darting from frame to frame.

"I can take care of that," Adam said, taking Blue's place, "I may be a mechanic, but your sister taught me a few things about technology." He was careful to keep from disrupting the laser, feeling along the outside of the frame until his fingers caught on a small hatch. Accepting the knife Noah offered him, he pried it open, quickly cutting the wires to the small device within. The laser flickered out. "If that was the only security system he had installed, I'd be really surprised. Be careful."

Pushing the door open, Noah stepped into a room that was less of a study and more of a library. Bookshelves filled to the brim with books touched the high ceilings, a rolling ladder resting on railings before them. "Oh wow," they all said together, staring around at the grand room. Blue ran her fingers over the spines of the old books. Adam pressed his fingers to the deeply stained wood of a desk. Ronan stood in front of a statue of an angel pulling itself from a block of marble. Noah stared up at the painting decorating the domed ceiling.

Gansey stared up at a framed map. "This, I've been looking for this for years," he whispered, awe shadowing his voice, "A map of the ley lines."

Noah whirled around as the unmistakable cocking of a handgun broke the stillness of the room. Barry's face was blank, eyes unfeeling as he pointed the handgun at Noah, muzzle close enough to brush the skin of Noah's forehead. "B-Barry?" he whispered, staring at the gun in nothing short of terror. Where had he gotten the gun? Why was he pointing it at him? Why did he have a gun in the first place?

Shrugging, Barry smiled apologetically. "Sorry about this Noah, but I can't have any witnesses, you might rat me out, and I'm not looking to split the payout."

"I-I d-don't want any money," Noah stammered, unable to move his eyes from the trigger that Barry had lazily wrapped his index finger around.

"'Course you're not, you don't need it," Barry muttered bitterly, glaring at Noah, "But I'd rather not allow that chance that you might change your mind later. Anyway, who's going to notice a map missing when there's a body to focus on instead?"

"Run!" Noah heard not only Blue scream, but Adam and Ronan as well. By the time his mind had caught up to everything that was going on –Barry was going to shoot him, he was really going to do it- Gansey's fist was flying towards the gun.

Barry let out a strangled yelp as pain lanced up Noah's arm and the gun went skidding across the floor. Sirens blared outside the building, strong and pulsing.

"Run!" the four screamed at him again, and he did. He bolted for the bedroom as the front door crashed open, shimmying his way down to the street below and sprinting down a side alley. He crouched beside a wet box with a tiny, mewling kitten in it, cradling his hand against his chest.

"Noah, what's going on? Why aren't you here?" Natalie yelled over the sirens, hands clamped over her ears as she crouched in front of him, watching as he dipped a hand into the box and slipped the kitten into his sweater against his chest.

He glanced up at her, the pain of his throbbing hand finally catching up to him and bringing tears to his bright eyes. "Can you come get me? I think my thumb is broken."