Paramedic Ronan Lynch
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Mr. Right and Mrs. (Not) Always Right by avalonjoan
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
29 Oct 2020
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The door to Adam’s office burst open. Ronan was frantically buttoning his uniform shirt, a panicked look in his eyes. “What are you doing? We gotta be at the hospital in fifteen minutes.”
Adam looked down at the gallery of students on his screen, then back up at Ronan. “It’s Thursday.”
“Oh.”
Ronan forgets what day it is, interrupts Adam's lecture, and promptly gets sent to bed, all in the span of ten minutes.
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“How’s your head?”
“Fucking hurts.”
“They’ll get you some Tylenol once you get inside.” Speaking of which, where was everyone? It felt like ages since he left the ER, but no other staff members had come out. Adam shifted positions as he made to stand. “I’m gonna go find someone.”
Ronan squeezed Adam’s hand. He opened his eyes, visibly panicked, then squeezed them shut with a wince. “Don’t go.”
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Ronan gets injured at work and ends up in Adam's emergency department, things that Adam had been keeping private come to the forefront, and Ronan just wants everyone to stop talking.
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As if hearing himself talked about like he wasn’t there brought him to full alertness, Ronan sat up and turned to her. “No--I’m not letting my being a dumbass ruin your heathen holiday.”
Everyone spoke at once, insisting that he wasn’t ruining anything and that celebrating the Solstice didn’t make someone a heathen and that he wasn’t a dumbass for passing out, but Adam knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
“Alright.” He raised his voice over the commotion. “Why don’t you all stay for dinner, but we’ll call it an early night after that.”
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Adam gets an urgent call from Blue, patches Ronan up on the dining room table, and gets closer to Gansey.
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sleepless night, silent night, holy night by avalonjoan
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
03 Dec 2020
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“Parrish, you’re being the stubborn one who won’t go to the hospital even though I, someone who takes people to the hospital for a living, think you should. Let me go.” Adam begrudgingly allowed Ronan to move his arm out of the way. Once he returned with a full glass of water, he sat on the bed beside Adam and nudged him to sit up. Adam held his hand out, but Ronan shook his head and picked up the thermometer from the bedside table. “Temperature first.”
Dropping his hand to rest in his lap, Adam opened his mouth; he let Ronan place the thermometer under his tongue and hold it there until it beeped. “What is it?” he mumbled, the sentence getting squished into one tired word.
“103.” Ronan rubbed a hand over his scalp. He felt hot himself; his heart was suddenly pounding. “Adam, please. Something’s wrong.”
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Adam and Ronan have plans for Christmas in Cambridge, but when Adam gets sent home from work with a fever, it looks like those plans might have to wait.
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Ronan put a hand on Adam’s chest before he could close in for a kiss, shaking his head. “You don’t want to kiss me.”
“You’re not gonna get me sick, dumbass, I already had it.”
“Gansey says that you shouldn’t say that in front of me,” Opal piped up, squirming to be put down.
Opening the car door, Ronan stepped back so Adam could deposit Opal in her car seat. “Gansey doesn’t get to give parenting advice until he has a kid of his own.”
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Adam returns from a medical conference to find an energetic Opal and an exhausted Ronan waiting from him. Later, after bathtime and storytime and bedtime, Ronan says something that makes Adam reflect on the different fathers in their lives.
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Ronan was leaning on the steering wheel, face in his hands, crying. Like, absolutely wrecked, audible sobbing. Kavinsky had expected Ronan to be pissed, probably swearing up a storm, quite possibly punching the dashboard, and he was utterly unprepared to deal with something like this. Should he leave Ronan alone? Make a joke? Try to like, comfort him? Fuck.
“Hey, man,” he said, trying to strike a balance between sounding reassuring and casual. “Don’t worry about it. The truck’s fine.”
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Ronan's already having a rough day at work, and then a teeny-tiny accident involving his ambulance and a metal railing puts him over the edge. Fortunately, his medic partner Kavinsky is there to help hold him together.
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work mom, work wife; home dad, home husband by avalonjoan
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
06 Jan 2021
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“You’re a fucking wreck, Parrish,” Ronan called back, taking three popsicles from the freezer--red for Adam and Opal (because she liked it when they matched) and purple for himself (because no one else liked that flavor, and if he didn’t eat them, they’d slowly get smushed into a sticky pile at the bottom of the freezer). “O, that’s a—”
“--word for home, not for school, I know.” They had been trying to be more careful about that distinction after an interesting phone call with her teacher.
“Right.” Coming back into the living room, he sat on Opal’s other side and looked over her at Adam. “If you’re sick enough to get sent home from work, you’re too sick to chase this one around all day.”
Adam sighed. “Fine."
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Adam, to no one's surprise, goes to work when he shouldn't. His colleague looks out for him and sends him home, where Ronan takes over with loving gestures and ill-advised kisses. Opal gets a variety of snacks out of all this.
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great with kids (and not too bad with grown-ups either) by avalonjoan
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
11 Jan 2021
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Adam looked up from where he sat on the stretcher with one arm around Opal, a book held open in the other hand. Opal’s face was puffy and tear-streaked, and she had a clown-printed hospital gown on, an IV taped down to her little hand. She held a pink stuffed bear on her lap, and she seemed alert, engaged with whatever Adam was reading to her. All in all, she looked okay.
When Kavinsky made eye contact with Ronan, there was a pause and then, with a few steps, Ronan came over and pulled him into what was possibly the tightest hug of his life. Burying his face in Kavinsky’s neck, he didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then mumbled, “I’m so fucking glad to see you.”
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Technically, Kavinsky had one patient: Opal. Sometimes, though, taking care of the patient means taking care of the whole family.
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it takes a village (or at least the neighborhood) by avalonjoan
Fandoms: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
18 Jan 2021
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Ronan made his way into the kitchen, blanket around his shoulders like a cape. “That’s quiet a fetching look on you,” Gansey commented, and Ronan rolled his eyes.
“It was either this or one of you coming upstairs to spoon-feed me like a Victorian child with tuberculosis.” Pressing a kiss to his fingertips, Ronan touched them to Opal’s head, smiling at her as she wriggled in her seat to look at him. He sat down beside Adam, dragged his chair as close to him as possible, and dropped his head on his husband’s shoulder.
Raising an eyebrow, Blue dragged the words out as she said, “That is oddly specific.”
“You volunteering? Because I’ll go right back up those stairs.” The fact that his voice was absolutely wrecked did wonders for the deadpan delivery; Adam and Blue laughed, Gansey widened his eyes and tried to hide a smile, and Opal grinned because she was a baby and the people around her looked happy.
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Sure, Ronan's sick and Adam injured himself in the most embarrassing way possible, but they can still manage taking care of ten-month-old Opal, right?
Blue and Gansey think otherwise.
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There were fifteen minutes left of the two-hour lecture on strokes when Ronan sent Adam a dickpic on goddamn Facebook Messenger. To be fair, Adam probably shouldn’t have had Facebook open on his computer at all, but how else was he supposed to send frantic mid-lecture messages to his classmates? He’d just sent one to Dani about the Circle of Willis when Ronan’s message popped up, absolutely derailing any trains of thought besides ‘boyfriend hot’ and ‘I’m in the front row oh god oh fuck’.
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It's summer semester of PA school and Adam has three group projects, two exams, and one feverish boyfriend who keeps sending selfies while he's in class. He can't decide which of these is going to kill him faster, but no matter what, he's in for quite a week.
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If Ronan hadn’t known that Adam was there, he might have thought to look elsewhere for him; instead, he went over to the bed and started peeling off blankets in search of his boyfriend. Finally, he found the hood of the Aglionby tennis sweatshirt that Adam had decided belonged to him and spotted a tuft of hair poking out.
“Christ, it’s like a fucking sauna in there,” he muttered, sliding his hand under the hood to lift it away from Adam’s face. “Come on, Parrish, you’re gonna cook yourself like that.”
“But ‘s comfy.” Between whatever the fuck was wrong with his throat and the pillow his face was smushed into, Adam’s voice was barely understandable. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Ronan, blinking slowly. “You’re here.”
Nodding, Ronan crouched beside the bed and kissed Adam’s forehead. “I told you I would be.”
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When Adam gets mono right at the end of the semester, Ronan figures he'll have plenty of time to study for his own finals while Adam rests. Unfortunately for both of them, Adam has never rested a day in his life, and doesn't plan to start now.
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“Got any stories to distract me with?”
At this, Gansey grinned, although he still looked distant, sad. “Of course. A new one, or the usual?”
“Usual,” Adam replied. “Hang on, I wanna lie down.” Slowly, slowly, he sat up, touching Ronan’s legs and Blue’s hands to indicate where he wanted them. He came to rest with his head on Ronan’s thigh and Blue’s fingers in his hair. Ronan tugged the towel off the rack behind him and folded it, nudging Adam to let him slide it under his hips to provide some cushion against the tiles. With her free hand, Blue tucked the blanket around his shoulders.
Gansey sat near Blue, his back against the bathroom vanity, his legs spread with Blue between them. “Ready?” Adam nodded. “Depending on where you start the story, it was about Owen Glendower.”
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A year after Adam struck his head and lost his hearing, the headaches come back. Blue, Gansey, and Ronan take care of him--and each other--in the ways that they can.
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Adam was pulling on his Harvard sweatshirt when Ronan said, “I wanna wear that one.”
Eyes narrowed in question, Adam lowered his arms but kept them in the sleeves. “It’s...my sweatshirt?”
“Yeah, but it’s my sick sweatshirt,” Ronan said, as if it were an obvious explanation.
Narrowing his eyes, Adam slowly pulled the sweatshirt off, but draped it over his arm instead of handing it to Ronan. “That’s like, not a thing.”
Ronan shrugged, still holding his hand out, now making grabby hands at Adam. “Yes, it is. It’s soft and it smells like you and you had me wear it that one time I got super sick and,” he said the next part a little quieter, “I’ve kind of been wearing it whenever I don’t feel good since.”
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Winter in New England seems to go on forever, Ronan and Adam are sharing a stupid cold, and Adam can't sleep. Maybe it's time for a change of scenery.
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