Twin Paranormal - Ryan x Reader

Ryan

I was standing at the edge of the grave, the earth beneath my feet soft and damp from the morning rain. My breath hitched as I stared at the polished black casket, Ryan's name etched in silver letters across the lid. Ryan Rees, Beloved Son, Brother, and Friend. Each word felt like a nail driven deeper into my chest.

The sky above was a dull, gray canopy, matching the heaviness in my heart. River stood beside me, his face pale and haunted, his usually sharp blue eyes dull and rimmed with red. His hand trembled as he clutched the corner of his eulogy—a crumpled piece of paper that he’d rewritten over and over.

River’s voice cracked as he spoke, the words barely audible over the wind.
"Ryan... was my brother in every sense of the word. Not just by blood, but by the bond we shared. He was the brave one, the one who would jump headfirst into danger if it meant saving someone he loved. He was the anchor for all of us." His voice wavered, and he took a deep breath. "I never told him how much I admired him... how much I looked up to him. I just hope he knew."

River's voice broke completely, and he handed me the paper. My hands shook as I stepped forward, facing the sea of mourners. My knees felt weak, but I forced myself to speak, my voice a fragile thread holding me together.
"Ryan was..." I faltered, looking down at the paper, but the words blurred through my tears. I crumpled it and let it fall to the ground. "Ryan was everything to me. He was my hero, my heart. He always said he’d protect me, no matter what. And he did." I paused, the lump in my throat threatening to choke me. "He gave his life for mine. I’ll never be able to thank him for that. And I’ll never stop missing him."

The weight of my grief crushed me as I stepped back. River caught me before I could collapse, holding me tightly as the funeral continued around us.

Suddenly, the world around me shifted. The air grew warmer, the cold dampness of the funeral replaced by the harsh fluorescent lights of the waiting room. My head jerked up, and I realized I was gasping for air.

River and Wyatt were staring at me, concern etched into their faces.
"Y/N," River said softly, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I blinked, my eyes darting around the room. The funeral had felt so real—Ryan's casket, the mourners, the sound of the earth falling onto the grave. But it was a dream. A horrible, vivid dream.

"Ryan," I croaked. "Is he—"

"Still in surgery," Wyatt interrupted gently. "We’re still waiting."

I buried my face in my hands, the edges of the dream clinging to my mind like cobwebs. The fear, the grief... it was too real.
"He has to be okay," I whispered. "He has to."

River sat down beside me, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists. "He will be," he said, his voice firm. "Ryan’s too stubborn to let this take him out. You know that."

I nodded, but the ghost of the funeral lingered in my chest, a shadow of what might come if the surgery didn’t save him. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to push it away. All I could do now was wait.

The waiting room feels even colder than the hallway. A sterile, suffocating kind of cold, like the air itself is holding its breath. My legs feel like they might give out at any second, but River’s still holding me steady, and Wyatt is sitting across from us, his eyes glued to the floor.

The silence between us is heavy, thick with the kind of fear you can’t speak about. It hangs in the air, suffocating, until finally, River speaks.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice breaking the tension, but not the ache inside. “Are you okay?”

I turn to him, my breath shaky as I try to steady myself. “I... I don’t know,” I admit, my voice quiet. “I don’t know how to be okay. I was so scared, River. The house, the ritual... I kept hearing that voice—Crocell—and I thought I was going to die there, and Ryan...”