[ It's unsettling, seeing Noah's face. Matthew isn't afraid, exactly (what use does a dream have for a nightmare?), but he considers scooting back again. He really doesn't know Noah very well.
Then he explains, or almost explains, but Matthew isn't smart, he's not good at figuring these things out, and what really did happen is too horrible for him to imagine on his own. ]
Noah?
[ He draws his knees up to his own chin, imitating the other boy's posture. ]
What didn't happen? Why were you-- [ It sinks in a little, right as he asks the question. ] --older?
[A tiny sob escapes from Noah's throat, but his eyes have used up all of their tears. Matthew knows, it's in his big, kind eyes, but it's too terrible a conclusion. He isn't going to say it.]
Matthew.
[Noah says his name like an apology. You're about to be horrified. You're about to know just how terrible our world is.]
[ Matthew's life, of course, is not untouched by death. But this, this does not fit with any part of his understanding. ]
Oh God, [ he whispers after a moment, and it's more of a prayer than a curse. ]
Noah...
[ He moves his knees again so that he can lean forward, reaching out, but hesitation takes him at the last second. Maybe someone else would be better at this. Someone more--
No, it-- That doesn't make a difference. He places his hand lightly, barely on Noah's arm. ]
I don't know what to say.
[ Matthew, the real Matthew, hasn't cried since Niall Lynch was murdered and his family fell apart, and he doesn't cry now, but he sounds a little desperate, and still utterly, hopelessly sincere. ]
[Noah tips forward a little at the contact, his shoulders slowly starting to quiver with the building tears. He doesn't want to cry, not here in front of Matthew, but the weight of his sadness is too much right now. It's like he can feel all of it, at once - the life flowing through his veins in Boston, dripping down his chin in the woods in Henrietta. The dark maw of nothing picking away at him. A future that won't happen, and a future that will. And it's not fucking fair.
The room rattles, just a bit, at his weak spark of anger. It comes and goes like a wave, and he finally crumples back against the wall.]
My parents thought I ran away. [Matthew would have been nine, he realizes, and blessedly oblivious of any boy missing from Henrietta.] Gansey and Blue found me. They didn't even know-
[He wipes his nose, and looks miserably at the floor.]
[ Matthew looks around with wide eyes when the room rattles, but it stops quickly, and he turns his attention back to Noah.
This is too much for him. It's too much for his simple, dreamed up mind to understand, and the thing is, he actually realizes that. Maybe for the first time. But he doesn't keep still. This time he scoots right over to Noah and tucks himself beside the other boy, just sitting there for a moment before he tips his curly head--
And rests his cheek on Noah's hair. Maybe it's weird to do this with a friend, but this is how Matthew and Declan sat together in church, the first time they went without their mother. ]
But-- You're alive here, right?
[ He has to be. Matthew remembers the wild grin on Noah's face, the night he dragged himself out of that lake, his clothes sticking to him, chest heaving with laughter. He was soaking wet and thrilled and definitely alive. ]
[It takes a moment, but Noah finally relaxes his shoulder and lets his head rest in the crook of Matthew's neck. The room is dim and quiet, and he can hear the others moving about upstairs, and for a few seconds it almost feels peaceful. He can almost forget that they're talking about this horrible truth.]
Yeah. [A half-truth. He elaborates.] My body is.
[His mind, his self, is more complicated. Death isn't something that happens just once - it keeps happening, over and over, until there's less and less of you left. Being handed a new body doesn't reverse that damage. There are days Noah wakes up and looks across the room, expecting to see Whelk getting ready for class. There are days he wakes up and feels half-lost to eternity.]
[ Matthew settles against him unself-consciously. Noah is small, especially next to the burly younger Lynch, and his hair is soft under Matthew's cheek; he feels like a real, living person. ]
All the time?
[ Matthew's voice is soft, too. For all the things that Matthew isn't--clever, brave, fierce-he's very simple, warm, sad, trying his best to be a good friend. Trying to understand what he can.
[This is the closest Noah's been to someone since the day he kissed Blue, and he immediately feels the prickle of craving in his skin. He's a corpse, and Matthew is a cloud, and he wants to know what it's like to always have this warmth.]
Even when it feels good, it hurts.
[Because the good times, the times when he's laughing - it always winds up reminding him what he's lost, and what he's going to keep losing.]
[Noah pulls his arms out from behind his knees, and snakes them around Matthew. One hand comes up to rest gently on his back, soft and steady.]
It's alright, it's okay.
[He sounds like a brother, a protector. The shaking in his voice is barely audible. Even Noah isn't sure if it's meant to be a comfort for Matthew, or for himself.]
[ Matthew nods a little, accidentally mussing Noah's hair in the process. Secrets are something he understands, better than the rest of this. He makes a little sniffling sound. Another person might say "I'm glad you told me", but Matthew doesn't because he's not glad about any part of this. ]
[Noah starts to nod, but he feels paralyzed. He wishes he could make Matthew smile, instead of just being responsible for this deep, overwhelming sadness.]
Yeah.
[Another half-truth. They all know he's dead, but only Gansey knows he's almost gone.]
[ It's an unecessarily obvious thing to say, but no one's ever accused him of being insightful. He's not upset that it was kept from him; he's never been upset about that kind of thing, even when the secret was about himself. ]
I'm one of Ronan's dreams.
[ It doesn't matter, maybe, or maybe Noah already knew, but Matthew just wants--
He isn't really sure, but Noah's just told him a huge secret so Matthew offers his own in reciprocation. Friends--good friends, close friends, the kinds of friends that Ronan has--tell each other things, he thinks, and this is all he can-- ]
[Noah isn't sure if he knew, but he knows that he felt it. Ronan and Adam and even Gansey, in all his bright glory, feel like skin and dirt and linen when they brush against Noah's mind. They feel like hot afternoons, and crooked glasses, and spilled beer.
Matthew feels like a fond memory on a bright morning. Soaring music in your headphones, and a picture you can't quite hold onto.]
Yeah.
[Noah wants to hold onto him. He wants to be held onto. He's afraid they'll both disappear.]
[ Matthew draws in a soft breath and just holds it in his chest, right next to the feelings that those words stir within him.
We're both real.
God, he wants to be. ]
Yeah, [ he agrees, finally exhaling again, but he really doesn't know.
And he doesn't know what else to say, so he quietly loops his arm around Noah's shoulders, hugging him in the sloppily affectionate Matthew Lynch way. He's just real enough for that. ]
[Noah tightens his arms around Matthew, pressing his nose against the boy's jaw. Sometimes, his death hurts the worst when he sees how it affects other people, and he wishes against all hope that he could find the right words to make it all better. But all he can do right now is sooth slow circles against Matthew Lynch's back, and pretend he isn't afraid of vanishing.]
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Then he explains, or almost explains, but Matthew isn't smart, he's not good at figuring these things out, and what really did happen is too horrible for him to imagine on his own. ]
Noah?
[ He draws his knees up to his own chin, imitating the other boy's posture. ]
What didn't happen? Why were you-- [ It sinks in a little, right as he asks the question. ] --older?
[ The real Noah... Did he not get older? ]
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Matthew.
[Noah says his name like an apology. You're about to be horrified. You're about to know just how terrible our world is.]
I'm dead.
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Oh God, [ he whispers after a moment, and it's more of a prayer than a curse. ]
Noah...
[ He moves his knees again so that he can lean forward, reaching out, but hesitation takes him at the last second. Maybe someone else would be better at this. Someone more--
No, it-- That doesn't make a difference. He places his hand lightly, barely on Noah's arm. ]
I don't know what to say.
[ Matthew, the real Matthew, hasn't cried since Niall Lynch was murdered and his family fell apart, and he doesn't cry now, but he sounds a little desperate, and still utterly, hopelessly sincere. ]
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The room rattles, just a bit, at his weak spark of anger. It comes and goes like a wave, and he finally crumples back against the wall.]
My parents thought I ran away. [Matthew would have been nine, he realizes, and blessedly oblivious of any boy missing from Henrietta.] Gansey and Blue found me. They didn't even know-
[He wipes his nose, and looks miserably at the floor.]
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This is too much for him. It's too much for his simple, dreamed up mind to understand, and the thing is, he actually realizes that. Maybe for the first time. But he doesn't keep still. This time he scoots right over to Noah and tucks himself beside the other boy, just sitting there for a moment before he tips his curly head--
And rests his cheek on Noah's hair. Maybe it's weird to do this with a friend, but this is how Matthew and Declan sat together in church, the first time they went without their mother. ]
But-- You're alive here, right?
[ He has to be. Matthew remembers the wild grin on Noah's face, the night he dragged himself out of that lake, his clothes sticking to him, chest heaving with laughter. He was soaking wet and thrilled and definitely alive. ]
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Yeah. [A half-truth. He elaborates.] My body is.
[His mind, his self, is more complicated. Death isn't something that happens just once - it keeps happening, over and over, until there's less and less of you left. Being handed a new body doesn't reverse that damage. There are days Noah wakes up and looks across the room, expecting to see Whelk getting ready for class. There are days he wakes up and feels half-lost to eternity.]
... But it hurts.
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All the time?
[ Matthew's voice is soft, too. For all the things that Matthew isn't--clever, brave, fierce-he's very simple, warm, sad, trying his best to be a good friend. Trying to understand what he can.
What even makes a person real, anyway? ]
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Even when it feels good, it hurts.
[Because the good times, the times when he's laughing - it always winds up reminding him what he's lost, and what he's going to keep losing.]
... I won't be there when you go back, Matthew.
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Matthew shuts his eyes, takes a shuddering breath, presses his cheek harder against Noah's head.
He realizes, right then, what a bucket list is. ]
I'm sorry. I'm--
[ Oh god. He doesn't know anything, he can't do anything. ]
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It's alright, it's okay.
[He sounds like a brother, a protector. The shaking in his voice is barely audible. Even Noah isn't sure if it's meant to be a comfort for Matthew, or for himself.]
I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep secrets.
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Does everybody else know?
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Yeah.
[Another half-truth. They all know he's dead, but only Gansey knows he's almost gone.]
But it took them awhile.
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I didn't know.
[ It's an unecessarily obvious thing to say, but no one's ever accused him of being insightful. He's not upset that it was kept from him; he's never been upset about that kind of thing, even when the secret was about himself. ]
I'm one of Ronan's dreams.
[ It doesn't matter, maybe, or maybe Noah already knew, but Matthew just wants--
He isn't really sure, but Noah's just told him a huge secret so Matthew offers his own in reciprocation. Friends--good friends, close friends, the kinds of friends that Ronan has--tell each other things, he thinks, and this is all he can-- ]
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Matthew feels like a fond memory on a bright morning. Soaring music in your headphones, and a picture you can't quite hold onto.]
Yeah.
[Noah wants to hold onto him. He wants to be held onto. He's afraid they'll both disappear.]
But we're both real.
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We're both real.
God, he wants to be. ]
Yeah, [ he agrees, finally exhaling again, but he really doesn't know.
And he doesn't know what else to say, so he quietly loops his arm around Noah's shoulders, hugging him in the sloppily affectionate Matthew Lynch way. He's just real enough for that. ]
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