Declan Lynch | The Raven Cycle

[locoparentis]

Character: Declan Lynch
Fandom: The Raven Cycle

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[dreamkid]

[ hey bro ]

Ha ha I am awful

[locoparentis]

[Its only been a week.

Ronan found dad, and maybe Declan hates that, and then there was the will reading and the enormous fight - they never fought like that before, Ronan and Declan, they never had a fight where the bruises would last an entire lifetime, even after their matching shiners and split lips faded. It's as though Ronan doesn't understand, Declan thinks, about how dad was amazing and grand and a piece of trash too. Ronan inherited most everything. Declan inherited Ronan.

And Matthew.

Matthew who is the only reason that Declan isn't just fucking off and letting his stupid middle brother go and ruin it for the three of them. Three million dollars and then their trust funds, tied up in the condition of never going home. Ronan's additional twenty three, and the Barns, and all they have to do is stay away until Ronan-

God.

Thanks, dad.

But even mired in grief, Declan gets up. It's Sunday.]

Matthew-

[He nudges his lump of a brother.]

You're the one who suggested church.

OH MY GOD, I TRUSTED YOU

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew had fallen asleep with his face buried in a pillow that neither felt nor smelled right because it wasn't from the Barns, and it was only good fortune he'd not smothered in the night. When Declan nudges him, he reluctantly stirs, his curls brushing the pillow as he turns his head, and blue eyes lift open to look at his brother. ]

I know.

[ His voice is thick with sleep and last night's crying, but he isn't crying yet today.

It only took a week for the whole world to fall apart. The shattered pieces are so many and so heavy that Matthew can't hold them all at once--the loss, the fighting, the exile. He doesn't even know what the worst part is anymore.

Everything important is lost right now and dreams aren't made for grieving.

He pushes himself up and rubs his eyes with the back of one hand, trying to shake off the weight of sleep so he can get himself ready, and that's such a little thing but at least he can do it so Declan doesn't have to. ]

What time is it?

/gently shields matthew lynch's eyes from this omg

[svyaz]

DON'T LOOK MATTHEW

[locoparentis]

[ He hasn't been seeing Rose long, but god, it's like she's fucking magic; the three or four encounters they've had have been earth-shatteringly good sex. Declan's been in such a good mood lately that even Ronan noticed, the last time he was in Henrietta, and made a comment about how he knew that Ashley couldn't be the only thing to hold Declan's attention for long.

Well, that was a fight, but it doesn't matter. Ashley is still at home, she's still there, blonde and slender and smarter than people give her credit for but not smart enough to figure out her boyfriend is fucking another girl.

He gets the text from Rose while he's at his internship, looks at it. She doesn't text him often - they're not really in this for the conversation - and all it says is come over. And so he does, when his shift is up. He has homework, but he texts Ashley he's going to go sit somewhere and study (lie) and he'll meet her after.

He doesn't have the key but when he knocks there's no reply, and when he opens the door it's unlocked (he thinks he should tell he to lock her door) and he calls up as he goes, and finally-

-shit.

There she is, in her bed, wearing almost nothing except thigh highs and garters and his shirt that he left here last time so he would have something to wear after, and her fingers are circling her clit, and Declan is stuck in the doorway. ]

Oh.

POOR SWEET CHILD, YOUR BROTHER IS A SINNER.

[svyaz]

[ Rose has fought off bigger and meaner things than Declan could possibly imagine in that pretty little head of his. As far as she knows, the scariest thing he's ever run into is his boss after a bender. And what he doesn't know about her is that she's careful. There are a handful of knives hidden around her apartment, out of the way but easily accessed, metal stakes snuck into unassuming places. If anyone tried to fuck with her - vampire or not -, they'd have a shitty time of it.

Besides, she knew he wouldn't be able to resist a summons.

When she hears his voice she turns her head from her mountainous bed and grins at him, cocky and sharp, her fingers moving restlessly between her legs. Rose knows exactly what this is. It's sex between two gorgeous and consenting adults. It doesn't matter that one of them is less free than the other. She doesn't want him for his brain or his money or his heart. She wants him because he's good at fucking her demons away.

And so while he's looking, she stretches out, a catlike movement that shows off the shape of her body beneath the white fabric. ]

Lost for words?

could it be?? a serious thread for them?

[svyaz]

[locoparentis]

[ Declan comes to this gym because it's small, because it's out of the way from work and school, because it's on the way to Rose's house, and finally, because it's filled with Irish boxers who remind him of home, of his gym back near the Barns, where the men would cuss out the Lynches while pouring the younger ones a beer.

It doesn't make him wear heavy padding and it lets him train in peace, and so he does. That's where Rose will find him, in the ring, and there's no doubt that Declan is good - he's fast and he's sharp, and he doesn't pull his punches or complain when he gets hit.

The match ends and he shakes hands and laughs, and spots her.

He looks a little confused for a moment, like he's trying to figure out how the sky went from blue to green. ]

Rose?

[svyaz]

[ She's been a little more jumpy lately.

Of course, he hasn't been around to see it. Their affair had been on pause for a number of reasons, Rose working more, Ashley needing more and more of his attention. Maybe she knows, maybe Rose doesn't care. But tonight they both have the chance for an escape. Which is why Rose was here, to work off some steam before he showed up at her apartment. It wouldn't do to try and stab her booty call with a metal stake, not really.

But she hadn't expected to see him. She'd been here for a while, lost in a world of her own, lifting weights in some dark corner, and neither of them had spotted the other. At least not until Rose had taken a break, a towel wrapped around her neck and sweat glistening from her skin, a bottle of water held loosely in her grip.

That's how she looks now, even as she grins wolfishly his way and leans on the bottom rung of the ring. ]

Billionaire vigilante? [ Raising one eyebrow. ]

AND THEN NOT SO MUCH

[svyaz]

[locoparentis]

[ What they're doing.

It's not a date.

It's not a date because they don't date, they fuck. It's not a date because Rose doesn't care about Declan's life and Declan certainly doesn't care about hers. It's not a date because the only reason they're getting food after Rose's shift is because Declan hasn't eaten since breakfast, and the food at her club is shitty.

And it's not a date because this is a fancy hotel, but that doesn't mean it's anything but what it is - a booty call.

And Declan wants to make sure they both know it, but he really doesn't need to - Rose is giving him that smile that says she's well on board this boat. ]

I hope this is about how you imagined this going down too

[dreamkid]

[ The week in D.C. was fun, almost like a vacation. Matthew admired Declan's sleek apartment, visited his school (but did not attend any classes or assist with any homework), charmed a respectable number of his peers, and, thanks to the frequent and unhesitating swipe of Declan's credit card, consumed enough food for a small army. Ronan never did reply to any of Matthew's texts, but that could be more-or-less easily written off as typical Ronan behavior.

The drive back to Henrietta wasn't too eventful, from his perspective, but perhaps he was too busy singing along with his music to notice Declan's white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. Perhaps he was just being blissfully oblivious, even when they got out of the car and Ronan shoved himself away from the front of the church, almost vibrating with hostility as he stalked towards them.

Matthew wasn't ready for the fight. Declan was a different story. It got very ugly, very quickly after the first punch, ugly words spat from hateful mouths and dirty fighting and brothers slamming each other into the hoods of cars, both of them so ready to kill the other that neither one even heard Matthew begging them to stop, guys, please, we're at church! (Too bad that didn't work both ways, and he heard everything.)

At one point, he looked up and saw his own horror reflected on the faces of a few other early parishioners, and in that rather helpless, unbearable moment his mind emptied of all but one thing: turn around and get away.

He's still trying to get away now, in fact, trudging doggedly along the side of the road that will eventually take him out of town, his shoulders drawn up to his ears and his hands stuffed in his pockets. His lips are moving in a silent but desperate prayer that neither of his brothers has actually done the other in, please God please make them stop, but it feels too late to turn around and go back now. And, he's not sure he wants to. ]

AH AH AH this is GREAT

[locoparentis]

[ Declan knew that Ronan would be spoiling for this fight for the entire week, he knew that Ronan wouldn't let something like this go without one. He knew that Ronan would think himself wronged, deeply and tragically, he knew that Gansey would talk him down from going to D.C. but wouldn't be able to talk him down from this, once Ronan saw him.

Some of words were worse I know where you put mom probably being the most terrible thing that Declan said, because it let Ronan know that Matthew betrayed him, that Matthew told, and maybe those are the only ones that Declan regrets. You didn't care when I was the one taking care of him at school didn't even compare.

The fight ended when Adam Parrish - Adam Parrish, of all people - slammed his way down from where Ronan had stashed him above the church and pulled Ronan off, and Ronan accidentally elbowed him in the face, and that caused Ronan to actually stop like he was a puppet with cut strings.

And that's when Declan realized that Matthew was missing.

He immediately got back into the car, his bleeding nose and split lip be damned, and he didn't even care that he heard the slam of the BMW's door - his father's BMW, the car that Declan wanted so badly, but it was never going to be his - and heard Ronan peel out in the opposite direction on the same search.

It was only luck that made Declan find Matthew first.

He slows the car. ]

Matthew, please, get in.

/gently breaks canon apart to make this happen

[dreamkid]

[ It's been a long day and a long night, made much longer by terror and the botched sense of passing time that comes with fading in and out of consciousness. It's still dragging on now even now, but the worst is over.

Matthew can hear his brother out in the hall. Ronan sounds angry about something, which does not necessarily bother Matthew tonight; tonight everything about Ronan has been protecting him. His anger, his-- Matthew still isn't sure. His pale monster bird creature? Was that an hallucination?

He'd been furious when the nurse started asking Matthew questions.

What did you take? How much? Honey, we need to know so we can take care of you.

Matthew, still a little thick-tongued and heavy-limbed, just let Ronan deal with it. The worst is over. Ronan got him out of the car, Ronan got him away from Kavinsky. Ronan promised to explain everything.

He closes his eyes and leans back in the hospital bed, careful not to tug on the IV in his arm. They're giving him fluids, because apparently being drugged and then locked in the trunk of a Mistubishi for hours is a dehydrating kind of experience. It's about all the doctor can do, because still no one is sure what Kavinsky gave him. Matthew isn't sure either.

But the worst is over. ]

yessss

[locoparentis]

[When he had gotten the phone call from Gansey - yes, from Gansey that started with your brother in is in the hospital he had felt his heart stammer a bit, and the first emotion was rage, until he heard that the brother in question was Matthew.

And then Declan had come at what could only be described as the speed of light.

No one had explained anything to him as he got to the hospital, hours later, no one explained as he stormed past Parrish and some girl and Gansey, Gansey who had gotten up to try and calm him down, no one had explained as he went into the hospital room, quiet. No one had explained anything, as he stared at Matthew who was half asleep and Ronan who was sitting in the chair next to him.

He and Ronan looked at each other and there was an exchange of the kind only the Lynch brothers could have - the kind that screamed war in silence, and Ronan got up, traded spots, left the room. Because it was unspoken - they don't fight in front of Matthew, and they couldn't be in the same room at that moment without murdering each other.

Or maybe Ronan was just tired.]

Hey.

[He smooths down Matthew's curls. He does what dad used to do.]

Significant TRK spoilers in here!!

[dreamkid]

[ It's safe here.

Matthew knows that's why he had to move. He could pretend to put his earbuds in, but that didn't actually prevent him from hearing things, some things. His brothers--his fierce, proud brothers, who had swung their fists and spat curses at one another for more than up a year--sat together in the front of Declan's car, looked one another in the eye, and came to an agreement on something. It was a plan. A plan that would make Matthew safe.

It made all the sense in the world. When haven't they protected him? Except now they are friends again, protecting him together. The war is over, with no losers on either side. So he's away from the only places he's ever known as home and he's away from his mother but Matthew feels that things, in a way, have been put very right.

Something fresh is starting, like the flowers Aurora planted that would come up new every spring, not looking like much until the day they bloomed but they always bloomed eventually.

It's safe here. Ronan is still in Henrietta, but he's Ronan. Practically immortal.

Declan keeps the kitchen well-stocked, or at least he does now. No telling how good he was at that before his little brother moved in, but a lot of things are changing. Said little brother is in said kitchen now, getting himself an inappropriately-timed bowl of cereal. He's hungry, and already knows he isn't likely to be too seriously chastised for snacking.

It's supposed to be safe here, but with no warning Matthew feels himself all at once seized by some invisible thing, in a stupefyingly terrible way.

The cereal box hits the floor first, after it slips from his fingers, which have become useless. The bowl is next, when he clumsily reaches for the counter to steady himself. It hits the floor and shatters.

The next thing that falls to the ground is Matthew himself. ]

[locoparentis]

[Paranoia isn't paranoia when they really are out to get you.

But this is t exactly what Declan was expecting. He wasn't expecting to be in his office, doing homework, and to hear a crash - no, that's not it. The crash isn't a terrible surprise, at first he thought, oh, Matthew's dropped something, so he got up-]

Dustpan is in the close-

[That's all he manages before he hears the thud of Matthew, and he finds himself in the kitchen, suddenly. Declan has no magic so he knows, logically, that he ran, but he doesn't remember point a to point b. He doesn't remember picking Matthew up, and at first his heart seizes with the thought that Ronan is dead somewhere, that someone got to his fierce and furious little brother, that he's more alone that he thought, when Matthew's eyes open and there's blood pouring from his nose.

Declan fumbles for his phone. Ronan.

Ronan.

He manages to dial but he's not holding his phone, he's holding Matthew.]

Matt-

What's happening-

[svyaz]

[locoparentis]

[Maybe he shouldn't go looking for his bit on the side when he's just had a fight with both his girlfriend and his brother. Maybe he shouldn't do it, but Declan is still a young man, and he still makes bad decisions. This bad decision he learned at the knee of his father.

He bought her a dress. He bought her a dress because he wanted to see her in it, and he showed up at her door; he's shrugging his jacket off, rolling his sleeves up when she opens it.

He looks like a storm.

He holds out a bag for her.]

Present.

WE DO WHAT WE WANT

[dreamkid]

[ Matthew may have a car now but he is not allowed to drive it by himself yet--particularly after the fiasco with the lake--but that's fine because he's gotten just familiar enough with the De Chima bus system that he only gets lost occasionally now. And each time it happens is something of an adventure.

Today, for instance. He got on the wrong bus and the college girls he politely stopped to ask for directions recognized him as an imPort and long story short, half an hour later he's heading for the correct bus stop and he also has free bubble tea.

Which he promptly chokes on, just a little, when he looks up and suddenly sees Declan--it can't be him but it definitely is. The eldest and most pragmatic of the Lynch brothers is standing on the corner of a downtown De Chima street in his usual suit and tie, and, it looks like, scowling at his government-issued phone.

Matthew's heart leaps with happiness. ]

Declan? Declan!

[ He's running towards him now, full force, ready to bodily throw himself at the brother he hasn't seen in three months. ]

WE DO

[locoparentis]

[He is scowling. He's trying to figure out what the hell happened - and if he can blame his dead father for this, too. This certainly seems like a dream; if it's because of something he touched-

He hears Matthew's voice, though, and he lifts his head like he's magnetized, and when he sees Matthew speeding his way, he braces for impact. It's a familiar thing, this rough affection, and his arms go up around Matthew in an instant.]

What-

What are you doing here?

[dreamkid]

[ Declan never lied so beautifully as he did when Ronan died. It took three days for Matthew to fall asleep, after it happened, for the little dream brother to use up the rest of the magic Ronan had poured into him and then shut down as suddenly as a toy with its batteries plucked out, and the whole time he never knew, never realized, never once did his oldest brother let that shadow fall over him.

Declan took the call, and Declan rolled all of the grief and panic into an impossibly small space and covered it with a mask, and Declan suggested that night at dinner that they both take a few days off, a mini vacation, just the two of them. Brother time. Matthew, being a boy upon whom the world smiled daily, didn't even think to question such a pleasant gift. His affections were boundless those last few days, as they did all his favorite things and ate all his favorite foods and Declan kept him up late each night with stories, like they were little kids again, and Matthew happily--and naturally--slipped into sleep each time with his brother's hand pressed to his curls.

Except for the last time. The last time he fell asleep, Declan was making grilled cheese for breakfast, under Matthew's cheerful observation, until the youngest and least real Lynch popped up out of his seat at the counter and said--

"I've gotta wash my hands, I'll be right back."

But he wasn't.

He hasn't moved since then. He hasn't laughed or skidded through the kitchen in his socks or forgotten to take his phone when he went out with friends. He hasn't folded his hands in prayer or hummed along with the music in his earbuds or had his first glass of wine or welcomed his brother home with a warm "Declan, you're back!" Birthdays and new years and Christmases have passed him by without touching the serene yet empty expression on his face, the youthful glow in his cheeks, the soft curls on his head. ]

[locoparentis]

[Declan suffered.

He thought that losing his parents was bad. He thought it, but he was wrong. First Ronan, first that horrible, heart-wrenching phone call, and then Matthew just days later. His apartment got quiet and cold, his entire life got quiet and cold. Declan was always a pragmatic boy, powered by the energy of others, but his grief made him unable to function.

He managed the funeral. He managed the home health care.

He thought that would be it, until months later, years later, there was a knock at his door.

Adam Parrish was worn and tired, now. He looked like he had lost everything too, and Declan hadn't wanted to see him, until Adam told him he had woken a dreamer with something he found in the bottom of his dresser. A last gift from Ronan, he had said, he didn't even know it was there. It was a coin, flat and square, and he had carefully soldered a frame onto it, wrapped a leather cord around the frame. Matthew should have it.

And then he had left.

Declan was good at waiting, but he didn't wait long. He goes to Matthew's room and presses it to Matthew's skin, this thing of magic, and waits for it to disappoint him too.]

hs au let's go.

[creatio]

[ Whether or not Clary Fairchild is considered a bad girl has been a hot topic of debate for some time. There are people who would swear blindly she is - father in prison, tattooed skin, always getting into trouble one way or another - and others who think that her relentless care for her friends, her love for her mother and detective stepfather, her enjoyment in life, mean she's a nice girl who's just a little too fiery for her own good. She certainly ends up in detention enough for for the former camp to feel righteous and for the latter to fret. Usually, it's for minor misdemeanours, forgetting her homework, skipping class, graffiting her desk. Declan Lynch, on the other hand, is undoubtedly a bad boy, the kind that has cheerleaders swooning and rumours whispered along the hall, the kind of classic movies, fast cars, wicked smiles. Tall, rich, handsome, Declan's a too sharp thing for a place like this and no one really knows where he and his brothers came from or why they're here. They just know he's not the kind you get involved with.

No one really expects the two to be friends. They're worlds apart, Clary knows her scuffed sneakers are nothing compared to the shiny shoes he wears every day. But when you spend a lot of time in the same miserable little room together, allegiances have to be forged. They talk, more often than not, and she finds herself telling him things she doesn't even mention to Simon. Her rage, her anger, how she feels like she doesn't belong. And he talks too, about his brothers, how gifted they are, how he feels frustrated by it. She knows a lot more about Declan Lynch than the whole of the school, and it's almost a startling thing to think about. And technically, no one really knows they're friends either, the detention room their own little world on days the supervisor leaves them to it to nurse hidden vodka in the teacher's lounge. It's a secret, and one that has to be harboured carefully. She likes him, no matter where he's from, no matter if maybe it's a like that's a little too much.

Today though, Clary doesn't even look at him as she's ushered into the classroom. Her bag gets tossed under her desk as the teacher tells them to behave, her body thrown into a chair by the window where the sun makes her hair look like a flame. She's angry, and it vibrates through her. Clary's cradling her hand to her stomach and when the door closes with a click, the teacher hurrying away, she lets a breath whistle through her teeth, flexing fingers that are bruised and red, split along the knuckles.

Maybe she should have paid more attention when Luke was trying to teach her self-defence. ]

[locoparentis]

[It was a strange sort of friendship. For starters: Declan does not make friends with girls. Declan makes conquests with girls, he scales unscaleable heights with girls, he devours girls whole. He does not make nice. He makes, well.

He knows exactly how to get a girl into bed, but then he met Clary and it was like she wasn't that kind of girl. His father said something about that, once, back before he died. There are girls you marry and girls you fuck, he said, and Declan doesn't exactly agree, because Declan is 17 and he's not looking to get married anytime soon, but for someone who loves women for their softness, for the way they smell and taste and feel, and rarely for much else, he didn't think that-

-anyway, so he was a dick. He was a dick who was then dating Jennifer Blossom, who, fate would have it, hated Clary, because Declan was friends with Clary, and that afternoon, around two, she lit into him about her, and he got into a fight with Ronan over the explosive burst of irritation that he felt, got himself detention, and broke up with Jennifer in a cold burst of glacial energy.

He didn't think that Clary would walk in there and he looks over when the teacher leaves.]

What the hell did you do, Fairchild?