Spinning ● Twilight

running

Riley didn't sleep that night.

Or the next. 

She told Charlie she did, and he nodded even though he knew better. She refused to to the funeral, and binge-watched Grey's Anatomy with snacks she bought especially for that specific time frame of her parents being buried under layers of dirt.

And she cried at the bathroom that night. 

He knew it because he couldn't sleep either, so he laid in bed and waited for her to return to bed so he could go down to the kitchen. He was never tired enough during the night these days, and he couldn't remember when he ate.

He opened the fridge, and spotted the chicken and potatos Sue cooked. He looked at it blearily, wondering when she made it. His brain somehow could not proccess that they sat down for dinner merely four hours earlier. He took a plate and filled some of the chicken, placing a single potato and putting it in the microwave.

He closed the fridge, and caught a glimpse of the time. 

23:47 a.m. said the clock on the oven.

He could hear Riley's TV playing from her room.

Charlie sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. He wished he could say that the naps were what made sleep be a challenge, but honetsly, he was napping all the time because he could barely sleep at night.

He would fall asleep, and wake up time and time again through the  night, and then find himself nodding off at work, and finally, return home to nap.

Elderly years were hard, he supposed.

The microwave beeped, and his thoughs were cut off. He looked up at it, and then his feet carried him to bed.

He tossed and turned an hour more, before he managed to sleep for a few minutes, waking up in sweat. 

::

"Charlie?" Riley's voice wondered.

He opened his eyes.

"Yeah?" his voice barely managed. This was the girl he took in just a few days ago. What was her name?

"Uh, it's seven thirty," she said quietly. "Shouldn't you head out?"

Charlie's eyes widened suddenly, and he realized he was running late. His phone suddenly rung, and he grabbed it. Rita? He pressed the green button, looking at girl. Not Rita.

"Hi Chief, a motorcycle accident by the rez. Can you stop by?"

"Yeah, yeah. On my way."

"Charlie?" Riley called from the kitchen. Charlie walked downstairs, spotting Riley next to the microwave. She was holding a plate with some chicken and a single potato on it, and he grinned.

"Good breakfast," he joked.

"No, Charlie, it stinks. It was here when I woke up, I wanted to heat up some pop-tarts," Charlie frowned. Why would there be a plate in the microwave? "Did you heat up something last night?"

"No," he replied. He then grinned, "maybe it's a ghost."

"Yeah right," Riley scoffed, and went ahead to throw the smelling food into a trash-bin. "Want coffee?"

"No, thank you." Charlie then hurried back upstairs and prepared himself for the day, putting on his uniform before walking downstairs again, and grabbing his coat. The familiar jingle of keys as he shook the coat was missing, so he dug into the pockets, but found nothing. "Hey, uh," he looked at the blonde, her name still escaping his mind. "Have you seen my keys?"

"Uh, no," Riley said simply. "Can't find it?"

"Nope," he admitted. He looked around him, and dug his hands into his other pockets. He never placed his keys anywhere but in his coat's pocket, for as long as he was in the force he did that. He was used to putting his keys on top of the dining table at laundry days, but it wasn't there either. 

Riley sat down as he looked around in confusion, when she offered him a bite of her pop-tarts. He took a bite, and realized how sweet it is.

"Living with you will get me diabetes," he stated, walking to the fridge and taking out a bottle of soda. He went over to the cupboard, and took out a cup, before closing it again. And then he opened the cupboard again, taking out his keys. "Why would I put it here?"

"Maybe you were thirsty?"

"Uh, yeah. I guess, had a few long days." Charlie put his keys in the pocket of his coat, poured some soda into the cup, and placed everything in its place. 

"Yeah, sorry. I'll... I'll figure out how to make it easy for you," Riley smiled at Charlie, who turned to look at her in confusion. 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, having a teenager in your house mustn't be nice for you," she shrugged. "I know I'll get into the system, I had a girl in prep-school that was in the system and she left after a few months. I'll just figure a way to make it easy for you for the short while I'm here with you."

Charlie's mind couldn't quite catch up to his mouth, "Riley," he finally found her name again. "You're not a burden, if that's what you're saying. Look, I've known you only for a couple of days, but you just lost your whole family. I didn't have to take you in, if you think I was feeling an obligation. The Chief called me for help, and I chose to bring you here with me. I won't let you go to bounce around in foster care," and then he said it. "I've been meaning to talk to you, but I already talked with the judge about the option of me being a foster dad for you."

"You did what?" Riley looked at him in shock.

Charlie looked at her, suddenly realizing what he just told her. "I just asked him if it's possible. It is, so... I mean, you could stay here, or not. We can talk this through. Just not now, I've got to head out, alright kiddo?"

Riley looked at him in shock, before nodding. He was about to step out of the kitchen when he felt arms wrapped around his waist.

"Riles?"

"Yeah?"

"What's this hug about?"

"For being the greatest foster father a person can ask for."