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

Chapter Twenty-Six: Beast of Burden

        Ghost is glad Crow isn't here for this.
        He's so glad she's not here for this, so she doesn't have to see her best friend in this way: the skin already starting to tint green, the whites of his eyes yellowing, a chunk of his throat gone—only clotted, dried blood and torn muscle to remain.
        Kieran is still a beautiful man, even like this. His blue eyes were luminescent against the decaying sclera, his lips still pink, his blonde hair still full and soft. He was lankier than many of the Defenseman, but he was of good build still, a strong man to boot. A man that had protected Crow more times than Ghost could even conceptualize.
        Yes, Ghost was glad Crow didn't have to see this. Not because he feared Crow couldn't handle it, not because he genuinely thought Kieran would kill her, at least for now. But he didn't think Crow could stomach looking at her friend like this—dead before her eyes.
        Circe was mercifully quiet in her carrier, so still Ghost absently wondered if she had somehow managed to escape it. But the cat was only being quiet, as if she knew her survival depended on her silence. Ghost's fingers gripped the handle to her carrier, his palms already slick with sweat.
        "Captain Corr," Ghost says, seeing Kieran lower his cell phone to his side in his periphery. He keeps his eyes trained on Kieran's face, watching every tiny expression.
        Hurt. Longing. Anger.
        Hunger.
        "I'm not going to kill you, Lieutenant," Kieran says, using Ghost's title despite knowing it was a name that no longer held true. "I'm not there yet."
        "I know you aren't," Ghost replies, meaning it. "You're a good man, Kieran. You always have been. But this won't last forever."
        It would likely last hours, maybe days if Kieran was lucky. Newly Undead were hungry creatures, prone to violence, less likely to control their new appetites. After the shock wore off, after Kieran's body fully understood what it had become, all bets would be off. They would be off until someone killed him or he managed to calm himself down, or if he was lucky enough to find an Undead who was willing to save his life and give him a chance to start anew, depressing as it was.
        Kieran sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looks downwards. "I know," He says, and sounds defeated. He brings his free hand up to his face, starts rubbing his forehead. Ghost wonders if his neck muscles hurt at all, if Kieran can feel any of that horrific damage.
        "What did you want to say to me without Crow hearing?" Ghost asks, figuring they may as well get to the point. Time was of the essence with a man like this.
        Kieran drops his hand, looks back up at Ghost. He grimaces, irritation flashing across his features as he suddenly lifts Ghost's phone and presses the side button hard. Ghost realizes that he's turning the phone off, and his eyes widen slightly. He has his mask on, and he's thankful for it. Kieran tosses the phone onto the floor before Ghost's feet.
        "She keeps calling." Kieran mumbles.
        Ghost looks at the phone and then up at the Captain. Ex-Captain. "You could have just put it on the floor like that. Didn't have to turn it off."
        Kieran chuckles, meets Ghost's eyes head-on. "Excuse me for being a little on edge. I'm not thinking clearly."
        Ghost smirks, though he knows Kieran can't see it. "I'd imagine dying would do that to a person."
        Kieran stares at Ghost for a second before bursting into laughter, bringing his hands to his face and hiding in them as he giggles. It's a welcome sound, one that reminds Ghost of a simpler time—like two fucking days ago.
        "Oh, Lieutenant Riley," Kieran sighs, wiping his eyes. His tears are slightly pink rather than clear. "It's nice to see you with a sense of humor. Thank you for that."
        Ghost so badly wants to walk over to Kieran, to put a hand on his shoulder and tell him everything will be all right, that he's just thankful that Kieran is up and breathing and talking. Never before did he think he would be grateful that someone was made into an Undead.
        But instead, he makes a point to stare at the gash on Kieran's throat, the one that should have killed him, the one that did kill him. It's that gash that should have Kieran on the ground, not even able to speak. And it's that gash that has brought Kieran back from the dead. And soon, it will be that gash that turns Kieran into somebody else entirely.
        "I'm sorry it's like this, Corr," Ghost says. "Fucking sucks."
        Kieran is still smiling slightly, but his brow furrows and he places his hands on his hips, nodding. "Yeah," He says, looking around the apartment. He runs a hand through his hair. He's so human, so perfectly Kieran that it makes Ghost's blood run cold. "Yeah, it fucking does suck."
        "What did you want to ask me?" Ghost asks again, his voice softer.
        Kieran's smile fades, and his body grows still. "I know I don't have much time. But I want to help."
        "Help?"
        "Let me take down O'Sullivan," Kieran says, which is the last thing Ghost expects him to say. Kieran sees the shock in his eyes and decides to push on. "I'll go to her like this, tell her that after her little speech to Crow I was inspired. Inspired enough to fully join her side, just like this." He motions to his body, his already decaying body. "I'm sure she'll buy it if she's as desperate as I think she might be. I'll get close to her—just give me a few days, a week, maybe. I'll get all the information you want and need. Then I can take her down. It'll be the safest way for everybody."
        Ghost stares at Kieran. "Kieran, I can't... no one could ask you..."
        To let an Undead, ex-Defenseman work for the Defense? While Undead? It was unheard of. It likely broke a million protocols.
        But hadn't Ghost just told Moorehouse to fuck the protocols?
        "Let it be my final mission," Kieran says, his eyes bright, haunted. Ghost sees a trickle of blood on the corner of his lips. "It may not solve everything, killing her. With Dana Bosh running free, this shit is complicated. Maybe deeper than we even know. But it's a start. Let me do this for you. For her."
        The 'her' he speaks of hangs in the air, her name untouched.
        "And what if you lose your mind somewhere along the way?" Ghost asks, though he knows it's not an if but rather a when. "What if you go crazy with bloodlust and forget the whole thing?"
        "Well," Kieran says, crossing his arms. The exposed muscles on his neck strain and Ghost has to look away. "That's just it. If I don't accomplish it, I want to be killed. Immediately. Shoot me down like a fucking rabid animal. That's what I want. But if I do accomplish it... Ghost, look at me as I say this to you."
        Ghost meets Kieran's eyes, the bright blue mixed with the horrible yellow and pink, watery tint.
        A sick, sick man.
        "If you do accomplish it?"
        "Kill me still."
        A pause. "No."
        "Yes," Kieran says, his face contorting into something painful. It takes everything in Ghost not to look away. "Please, Riley. I don't want to live like this. I just want to complete the last task I had as a human and then get the fuck out of here. I can't... I don't want to watch myself become like them."
But you already are like them, Ghost almost says, but he stifles it quickly. Just by standing here, just by continuing to live, you already are like them.
        "I don't want that for you, either," Ghost says instead. "But you could... you could have a life, Kieran. You could live forever, actually."
        "But I don't—" Kieran bites his lip and looks up at the ceiling, unfolding his arms and placing his hands on his hips again. Ghost realizes that he's trying to hold back tears. He lets out a shaky breath before lowering his head and meeting Ghost's eyes again. "I don't want to live forever. Not without her."
Her.
        "Kieran—"
        "I know you love her," Kieran says, his voice breaking. "And I know she loves you. I've wanted that for her for so long, Riley. You don't know how much I've wanted to see her happy, to have someone else to love besides just me. But it's still... it's hard for me to let that go. I didn't—" Kieran's voice breaks on the words, a bloody tear falling out of his eye, the color more red than it had been a few moments ago. "I didn't have the time to adjust to it."
        "She loves you," Ghost says softly. "You can't even fathom the regret she feels."
        "I can," Kieran whispers. He puts a hand on his chest. "I feel it, too."
        Something in Ghost feels close to breaking. The pain in Kieran's beautiful eyes, in his lovely face... it was too much, it was too much to watch someone so gorgeous turn into something so wretched, and for him to be aware of it the entire time... something in Ghost was close to breaking.
        This disease... it had lived in the world for so long. Yet it had never touched him so closely, never looked him so plainly in the face. It had become something like a phantom threat in Ghost's life, this horrible thing you turned your eyes from as you pointed your gun at it, a disgusting thing you closed your eyes for as you pulled the trigger. But to see Kieran now, to know his fate, and for his heart to be so filled with love before it was eaten alive by the sickness he had been dedicating his life to keeping at bay...
        It was cruel. To watch someone like Kieran be put through this was so fucking cruel.
        "She was never going to abandon you," Ghost says, because he feels like he has to say it. Kieran has to know, before it's too late. "There was nothing of her you had to let go, Kieran. What's going on between her and I just happened so fast, so quickly, and we got swept up. But I would have never taken her from you, I never would have dreamed it. Your friendship was—is—the world to her, and I knew that. I know it still."
         Kieran stares at him, his eyes screaming something his mouth will not say. Ghost catches that Kieran's fingers are stretching and bunching, as if there's an invisible energy coursing through him that he doesn't want Ghost to see. Ghost wonders what thoughts are running through his brain... or what thoughts are trying to break the surface.
        Ghost wonders how much time is left.
         "Thank you." Kieran whispers as his bloodied tears roll down his chin and to his neck, dipping into his open wound. "But please... let me do this."
         Ghost dips his head. "Do you still have your phone?"
         Kieran nods.
         "All right." Ghost says, suddenly exhausted. "Then do what you can, keep me updated. If you manage to dispatch O'Sullivan we can... we can discuss what to do afterwards."
         Kieran shakes his head quickly. "No discussions." He says sharply. "I'm not living like this. I'm not starting over with a bunch of fucking zombies. I don't want to live forever without any of you. It's not worth it to me."
         "You don't know what's out there, Kieran, you don't know what kind of community—"
         "Don't fucking start defending them for my sake." Kieran spits, and it makes Ghost freeze. He's never heard such venom in Kieran's voice, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck raise. He hears Circe growl in her carrier.
         "We lived to kill them," Kieran seethes, his fingers now clenched in tight fists. "I lived to kill them. I'm not living to be one, I fucking refuse. Prometheus had a better quality of life than whatever the fuck you expect for me."
         "I just—"
         Before Ghost could even blink, Kieran was there, in his face like he had somehow teleported there, like he had stepped through space to appear before him. He was fucking fast, faster than he ever had been as a human. Kieran placed a hand on Ghost's throat, his fingers tightening to the point where Ghost was gasping for air almost immediately. He dropped Circe's carrier to the ground as his hands flew up to his throat, trying to pry Kieran's fingers apart, but Kieran's grip was firm, stronger than Ghost could even fathom.
         "O'Sullivan said it best," Kieran sneers, his bloody eyes turning wild. "I'm now a sick immortal sentenced to hell by those privileged enough to die." He leans in, and Ghost is terrified that Kieran might bite him, might rip his fucking face off, might tear the fabric of his mask off, along with his skin. Kieran leans close and whispers: "But I'm the captain of my fucking soul, Riley. I decide my fate now."
         "Are you going to kill me?" Ghost nearly begs, his voice a whisper, a choking breath as he starts seeing spots in his vision.
         Kieran's eyes shudder, as if almost broken from a trance. But his grip on Ghost's throat doesn't waver. "No, Ghost," Kieran replies, another bloody tear leaking from his eye. "But you'll do me that honor, when I ask for it."
         "I won't," Ghost wheezes. "I won't do that to you—or to her." He gasps the words out, even as Kieran's eyes blaze and his grip somehow tightens even more. Circe yowls as Ghost's knees buckle, and suddenly the only thing keeping him standing is Kieran's choking hand.
         "You will," Kieran hisses, and it's then that Ghost realizes the man is mere seconds away from becoming something lethal, only moments away from doing something irreversible. "Let me finish out my life as Captain Corr, and then fucking take it. I won't take no for an answer. And you won't tell Crow a fucking thing. You won't burden her any further, you understand me?"
         Ghost tries to respond, but his airway is now completely obstructed by the pressure of Kieran's hand. He's practically blind now, and it's a miracle he hasn't already passed out. Kieran must sense this, because suddenly he releases Ghost's throat, letting him drop to the floor in a heap at his feet.
         "You know," Kieran continues conversationally. "I told Crow that I feel things differently already." His voice has shifted from furious to casual, like he's flipped a switch inside himself with no effort at all.
        Ghost tries to get onto his knees and elbows, desperately sucking in air to the point where he thinks he might be crying. Circe's paw is smacking against the caged door of her carrier, hissing at Ghost as if trying to encourage him to get up.
         "I told her that the anger is so... strong." Kieran steps away from Ghost, his Defense-issued combat boots moving slowly across the floor, headed towards the door. Ghost can see Kieran's own blood caked on the soles. "I don't want to direct this anger at Crow. Or you. So I think it's best that I leave."
         Ghost coughs, moving up from his elbows to his hands. He raises his head to look up at Kieran, who's now looking at him over his shoulder, several feet away.
         "I'll let you know when I've made contact with her." Kieran says, and Ghost isn't sure if he means Meara or Crow.
         "Is..." Ghost starts, but his voice is no more than a wheeze. He tries again, his breath like fire in his lungs. "Is there anything you want me to tell her?"
         Kieran puts his hand on the doorknob. He looks down at the floor, and for a moment Ghost can't see the yellowing of his eyes, nor can he see the wound on his neck. For a moment, Kieran is Kieran again.
        "Just tell her," He says softly. "That I hope she misses me like I miss her. I hope that she always does."
         Ghost coughs again, his lungs spasming as they fight for more air, more air, more air. "She doesn't have to miss—"
         "Be quiet." Kieran says sharply. "Don't make me do something I'll regret." He pauses once more before saying: "I think the last part of my human nature to go will be my killing instinct."
         When Ghost looks up again, Kieran is gone.
         Ghost lets himself collapse onto the floor again, Circe's paw still pounding on her cage.