[All at once the flood of guilt returns when he realizes just what had happened and what he hadn't been there to fix. Gansey, like Adam, was buried. Except- perhaps unlike Adam, he didn't have the ability to reach out to his friends, to tell anyone that he was there, and so Ronan didn't know, and so Ronan didn't try to dig him up. It had all been Adam.

Gansey eases past the subject, and Ronan wants to focus on it but he knows better than to force an uncomfortable topic, especially so soon after finding him again. His chest feels tight in the wake of it, but he brings himself to focus on the change of subject, managing a short nod when he's asked about Gansey's journals.]

You were mapping the place out, [he murmurs, twisting anxiously at the leather bands around his wrists. His voice is nonchalant, even if his posture is tighter than it should be. The action causes the bandages on his hands to pull uncomfortably, so he does it harder, his mouth pursed in a thoughtful frown.]

I don't think you kept a diary or anything, but some stuff. I don't know if it's still there. [Ronan shrugs.] I haven't gone through your room.

[Not that the place was off limits or that he hadn't thought about looking through it. As far as Ronan knows- and he's mistaken about this, of course- nobody has opened Gansey's door since the fruitless search for him right after his disappearance. It's best to keep it that way, he thinks. Frozen in just the way that Gansey left it, too sacred to go tearing through.

On the other hand-]

...wait, a fucking griffin? You're joking.

[Someone hadn't paid much attention to what Gansey had actually been saying until now.]