The Crow & The Ghost: A Dystopian AU Simon Ghost Riley x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Five: Keys

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first bit of writing after taking an unplanned month off due to various viruses, so be kind, lol. So excited to finally bring you the beginning of the end for this story <3

You wipe your tears, deciding that you cannot cry yourself into oblivion when Riley might be putting himself in danger for you—and for Circe. Not only that, but you've done plenty of crying lately. Enough was enough.
Not to mention that it was making your head hurt.
    You grab your phone and download an online grocery shopping app, deciding to order the bare essentials of your weekly grocery run to Riley's apartment. You go to his fridge and fish out a chilled bottled water as you scroll through what you need, taking large gulps as the iciness tumbles down your throat.
    I should order kitty litter, you think as you scroll through cereal brands. And I need to remember to tell Riley to take Circe's litter box with him. Or... I could just order a new litter box. He won't mind, will he? You abandon the cereals and click on the pet supplies tab as the image of Riley hauling a used litter box over his shoulder enters your mind. Yeah, I'll just order a new litter box.
    You sit down on Riley's couch, suddenly feeling awkward. How had this all happened? Like, actually? In less than twenty-four hours you had lost Kieran, given up your job at the Defense, and were essentially moving in with Riley. Not to mention Riley had given up his job alongside you. Neither of you had a plan in the fucking world beyond trying to take down Meara O'Sullivan in the coming days. But how the fuck were you going to do that? And that situation wouldn't last forever, regardless of the turn out... so what would come after?
    None of this makes any fucking sense. My life makes no fucking sense.
    You check out on the app and see that the order will be delivered within the next six hours. You pointedly do not open the messaging app, knowing you'll be inclined to read Kieran's texts again. You can't look at them. You can't. You let out a sigh, unsure of how much time has passed since Riley left. Ten minutes? Fifteen? It shouldn't take him more than a half hour to get to your place.
    As if on cue, your phone starts vibrating with an incoming call. You flinch, your phone almost flying out of your hands. You catch it quickly, some ice cold water spilling onto you as you swipe your thumb across the screen to answer.
    "You made it?" You ask as you rub out the wet spot on your thigh, hissing at the coldness.
    "Mrrrrrrr-ow!" Cries a shrill voice.
    "Circe!" You exclaim, relief hitting you like a wave. "Circe, I'm so sorry, sweetheart, everything is going to be—"
    You hear a growl in response, an aggressive sound coming deep from Circe's throat. You take your phone away from your ear for a second, giving it a quizzical look. You had never heard Circe—or any cat for that matter—sound so fucking pissed. You bring the phone back to your ear and open your mouth to speak, but someone else starts before you do.
    "She was ecstatic to see me, by the way," A deep, British voice says. "It's just you she's pissed at."
    "She's not going to be happy when you take out the cat carrier," You reply, rolling your eyes. "So enjoy her good mood while it lasts."
    "Where is that?" Riley asks, and you can hear him fumbling around. "The carrier, I mean? And do you have a big bag I can throw all your shit into?"
    "Yes, I have a duffle bag for all my shit," You scowl. "In my closet. On the floor to the right. The cat carrier is right next to it."
    "Gorgeous," Riley mumbles, and you can hear your closet door opening.
    "Thank you again for doing this." You say. You imagine Riley in your apartment, moving quickly with Circe in tow. Though the moment is stressful, it still makes you smile. You wonder if he has his mask on, and the thought makes you smile wider.
    How have I come to love this man so quickly? And why can't I find it in me to be afraid of it?
    "Anything for the little Crow," Riley murmurs, and you hear the duffle bag unzip. "I'm just glad your key worked. How much clothing should I pack?"
    You give Riley the rundown of what you need: plenty of underwear and bras, pajamas, socks, and all the cargo pants and jeans and T-shirts and tight long sleeve shirts that he can fit. Then you direct him to everything Circe needs, as well as all your toiletries, the extra pair of boots sitting by your couch—"Weird fucking place to leave those," Riley murmurs—and the extra knives you have stored in secret hiding places throughout the apartment—"Didn't catch these on my initial inspection, huh?"
    "Work of an amateur," You tell him.
    After several minutes of directing Riley over the phone, you hear him plop several bags on what you assume to be your kitchen counter. "All right," Riley grunts. "I need to put the phone down for a second and get the cat into her carrier."
    You bite your lip. "Are you going to be able to carry everything? Do you need my help?" You suddenly feel incredibly guilty and stupid that Riley had to do all of this by himself, and now having to lug everything across the city by himself on top of it.
    Riley tsks, as if you're actually starting to annoy him now. "I'm a big man with big hands and a strong upper body, thank you very much." He snaps, though not unkindly. "Don't worry about me. I can carry a few bags and a cat. I'm putting the phone down, now, little Crow."
    After a few moments, you hear the sounds of Riley cooing, followed by a shrill meow, which is then followed by a stream of extremely British curses.
    "I don't have time to fucking fuck around!" You hear Riley shout as Circe unmistakably skitters along one of your bookshelves, something she does when she's overexcited. "Get over here, witch!"
    "I think she thinks you're playing," You say helplessly, knowing Riley can't hear you. "Stop chasing her!"
    "That's it!" You hear Riley shout after a few more moments of loud shuffles, followed by the sound of a door slamming shut. You laugh, knowing that Circe's route when she's excited is to fly around the living room and then start bouncing around your room. Clearly Riley has shut the two of them in there, the plan being to not come out until Circe has been wrangled.
    You put your phone down for a second, letting yourself laugh. It's nice to laugh, even if for a second. The image of Riley having a standoff with Circe is too good to not visualize and enjoy. You run your hands through your hair, suddenly feeling lighter.
Riley is safe, Circe is safe, you're safe.
    For now. Which is better than nothing.
    This shit isn't close to over, and there's still so much left to freak the fuck out about, but maybe... maybe you and Riley could just take the day today. When he got back, maybe you could just take the day to adjust. To grieve. To just fucking pause and come up with some type of fucking plan for this new shitstorm you've conjured for yourselves.
    You hear a voice on the phone. The volume is too low for you to make out what's being said, but it's clear someone is speaking. You smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.
    "Jesus, you caught her way faster than I—"
    "I just wanted to give you fair warning," A familiar voice says on the other line, the tone preternaturally calm. "Before I hang up on you."
    You freeze. You look at the phone's caller ID. It's still Riley's phone you're connected to, but that voice...
    "Kieran?" You whisper.
    "I still love you, Crow." Kieran says quietly. As if he doesn't want anyone else to the apartment to hear him, not yet. "I'm still here."
    You feel your chest crack open, and your jaw practically unhinges as your eyes fill with tears. Your hand flies to your chest, gripping it as if that can make your heart start beating again. "Kieran—"
    "I'm not gone yet," Kieran whispers. "At least I don't think so."
    "Kieran," You choke, blinded by your own tears. You knew Kieran had a key to your place, but after everything that had happened to him, you didn't think, you never thought—
    "I know you're not here." Kieran says softly. "I'm glad you're not. I love you, but I am so angry with you." Kieran uses your first name and you choke on your own breath, sliding off the couch and onto the floor, your body almost numb from shock and fear. Did Riley know he was there? Did he have any idea? How could you possibly warn him?
"I'm still me," Kieran continues. "But there's something new here, Crow. I'm scared of it. I'm scared of who I'm going to become. I'm scared of the thoughts in my head, especially when I think about you. The anger is so different now, isn't that incredible? How fast it all works? But I don't want this. I promise you, I don't."
    "Why are you in my apartment, Kieran?" You ask, your voice rasping. "If you think you're going to hurt me, why would you go there?"
    "Because I'm still a soldier," Kieran says. You hear Riley's muffled voice somewhere far off, something that sounds like a cheer of victory. You hear Kieran's amused scoff in response, but he keeps his tone quiet still. "I know I wouldn't make you come here. So I knew if anyone would be here, it wouldn't be you. I'm still your partner, Crow. I haven't lost it yet."
    "You'll always be my partner," You whimper, taking a sharp sniffle of air as your tears track down your face. "I love you, Kieran. I've fucked up, I've fucked up over and over again, and now you've paid the price, and I—"
    "Are you saying this for me?" Kieran interrupts. "Or for Ghost?" His voice gets louder on that second part, and that's how you know Riley has opened the door. That they're likely standing across the main room from each other, staring into each other's eyes as Kieran holds Riley's phone and Riley holds Circe's carrier.
    As Riley realizes he's in far, far more danger than either of you could have anticipated.
    "Riley!" You cry out, hoping by some miracle that Kieran has put you on speaker, that by some miracle Riley can hear you, that he knows that you know what's happening, that he knows you won't leave him hanging, that you wouldn't ever—
    "Ah," Kieran says, and you can hear the disappointment in his voice. "For him."
    "No!" You sob, pressing your hand to your forehead in frustration. "No, Kieran, that's not what I meant—"
    "I'm going to hang up the phone now, Crow," Kieran says. "I need to talk with Lieutenant Riley privately."
    "Do not hang up that phone—"
    "Ex-Lieutenant." You hear Riley say gruffly.
    There's a short pause. "Oh?"
    "Both of us dropped the Defense," Riley replies, his voice grave. "After we lost you. Crow told Moorehouse she couldn't stomach it without you."
    "I can't stomach anything without you, Kieran," You add desperately, your breath ragged, only moments away from going into full hyperventilation. "I wish things had turned out differently, I wish you didn't have to—"
    "I love you, Crow," Kieran says. "You're my best friend. And that's why I need to have this conversation with Ghost without you."
    "Kieran, don't—"
    The call ends.
    "Fuck!" You scream, throwing your phone across the room in both fury and terror, your body desperate to release the horrified energy coursing through you.
    Then you realize how stupid that was and let out a guttural, frustrated scream as you stand up and race over to your phone, cursing at the new crack across the screen as you slide it open again, screeching in pain and anger as you cut your thumb on the splintered glass.
    Kieran will not hurt Riley, he would never, he told me himself he's not totally lost yet, he would never hurt Riley, never do something to hurt me—
    You dial Riley's phone number. The call is immediately ignored. You try calling again, only to be denied before the first ring is over. Then again, with another denial. This pattern continues until eventually the calls go straight to voicemail.
    The bastard turned the fucking phone off.
    But he won't hurt Riley, he won't—
    You start dialing a different number as you find your vest on the floor, carrying it with you as you go to Riley's washing machine and fish out your clothes, throwing them into the dryer and pressing the highest setting before turning it on. You roughly wipe the tears from your eyes, not caring when you feel the blood from your thumb streak onto your face. You dimly notice that your bloodied fingerprints are all over Riley's dryer, but oh fucking well.
You keep the phone propped between your cheek and your shoulder as you look through your vest, taking stock of all the weapons there, your brain zipping in a million different directions as you try to think of where you left everything, or at what point you lost it, or where in this apartment you can go to get some replacements if needed. You feel the broken glass on the screen dig into the skin on your face, but the pain is welcome. In this moment, the pain keeps you grounded.
    "Crow girl?"
    "Johnny," You say breathlessly. "There's been an issue."
    "With?" You can hear Soap sitting up.
    You take a deep breath. "Riley went to my apartment to get my cat and some of my things to bring back to his place," You say, trying to keep your voice level. You can hear Soap already standing, already moving around, as if he already knows where you're going with this. "I was on the phone with him when Kieran entered. Kieran took control, ended the call."
    Soap swears fantastically, and you wince.
    "We know Riley can handle himself against one Undead, especially such a young one," You say the words quickly while simultaneously deciding that what's in your vest is good enough for what you need.
"But you worry if he can really defend himself against Kieran," Soap finishes for you. "That he might struggle to kill him if he has to."
"Yes," You say. "He needs our help."
"Russ and I will be there shortly," Soap says, and you hear the sound of a zipper. There is not a singular question in his voice, just unwavering loyalty to his friend, an unrelenting readiness that only true love can muster.
This is the kind of loyalty, the kind of love that you should have had for Kieran. That you did have, up until recently. This knowledge is a knife in your gut that won't stop twisting, and you find that you don't want it to stop. You want this shame to follow you everywhere you go. It's the least you deserve.
"I'll be there soon, too." You reply, pulling the dryer door open and yanking your clothes out. They're way too hot and barely any drier than they were before you put them in, but it'll have to do. You start stripping off Riley's extra clothes, wincing as you pull on the damp ones.
"Is that wise?" Soap asks. "Kieran will attack you, I'm sure."
"I'm not abandoning Riley," You reply sharply. "He wouldn't abandon me."
"Neither would Kieran." Soap snaps, and you freeze.
"Fucking Christ," You hear Keegan's voice, albeit distantly. "A bit harsh, MacTavish?"
"No, that's right." You say quietly, standing still. You let your wet pants flop back to the ground, your legs cold already cold from the damp. You kick them off angrily and throw them back into the dryer, knowing you can't pull them on until they've dried more. You see they're already stained with the blood from your thumb. Your eyes are thick with tears again.
"Crow, I—"
"I'm going to leave within five minutes," You cut through Soap's reply. "And then I'm going to fucking sprint there. Kieran turned Riley's phone off, so don't bother calling it. Just get there, please. I need both of you."
You hang up, pulling your wet shirt on and strapping the vest over it. You're shivering with both stress and cold, but there's no more time.
You stop the dryer short again and shove your damp pants on, wincing, crying, and seething as you do it.
Riley can fend for himself. Riley would never let Kieran overpower him, would never let himself come into harm's way like that, he'll be fine, he'll be—
You leave Riley's apartment without locking it.
You don't have a key.

   
*End of Chapter Twenty-Five*