Ronan knows about all of that, has heard bits and pieces from every one of them, their voices carrying and echoing in the huge space of Hywel when they either thought he was asleep or not around. And he's heard it directly from Noah and what little bit Adam shared before Ronan ruined fucking everything by, for once, trying to do the goddamn right thing.

He doesn't mention how he'd spent days and days lost in a drugged out stupor with fucking Kavinsky of all people because facing Adam's disappearance was too much for him to handle. He doesn't mention the days after that locked in fear that something even worse than just disappearing had happened, not just to Adam, but to Noah, too. He doesn't mention the crushing weight of pure helplessness because no one fucking cares.

After all, Ronan Lynch has dealt with worse, hasn't he? What's one more fucking thing.

So he shoves it all down, insides churning as he glares up at her. She isn't wrong, after all; he isn't about to argue.

Still, it's the allusion to Adam that has him looking away, lips still drawn in a thin line as he turns his glare down at the guitar in his lap. His bracelets graze across the frets and he re-tunes the string Blue's loosened.

"I know," he says, voice detached and stomach heavy. The trees shudder around him. "He'll get over it. He's endured worse."