Going Under | Sitkolson [C]

20. UNCOVER

RYAN

I felt more than horrible for my actions. Maybe I was worried about Corey, maybe I was worried about myself, or maybe I was worried about Ricky, I don't know. I did what I felt was necessary, and I regretted it.

I knew from this Devin would hold more of a grudge towards me. And I didn't blame him.

He was right; I sent his brother away at one of the worst times. It may not seem like a big deal, but Ricky was always fragile. That's why I never tried to do anything that would harm him. I care–and always will–too much about him to hurt him. The only time I would ever, ever, hurt him was if it were beyond necessary. Hurting him would be like hurting myself..

At the sound of the front door opening and closing, I jumped up from the couch, looking at Devin with confused eyes.

"Where is he?" I asked, "He didn't run away, did he?"

He shook his head, "He's at home. His home. Phil and Tara still aren't there. I guess they were deemed unnecessary when you showed up."

I nodded and quickly walked past him and out the door.

I figured Ricky wouldn't want to see me, because that's usually how it ended when we argued or something, but I wanted to see him. My apology wouldn't be enough, but, hopefully, it'd be a start.

After walking through his pitch black house, I finally found where he was–his room.

"Ricky..." I slowly walked towards him, "I'm sorry I sent you away. I know it wasn't your fault, but..."

From the edge of the bed, Ricky looked up at me, giving me a weak smile, "It's fine, Ry. I should've.. I don't know. I'm sorry, too."

I hated how he apologised for doing nothing wrong. I really did.

When we first met, he apologised for nearly nothing, because he was more of a stubborn dick than I was. But, when we started out our relationship, he would apologise more. Then when we got married, whenever either of us were upset about something, anything, he would apologise. Even when he had nothing to do with it.

"Sit here." He said, pointing to where he was sitting before getting up and walking out of the room.

I did what he told me to and waited a few minutes before he returned, something in his hand.

I frowned, "What's that?"

He shrugged, "Nothing much. I found it in a box of your things when Dev and I went back to our house."

My lips quirked slightly, "What do you mean?"

He grabbed my wrist and pulled something over my hand and onto it, holding it out for me to see.

I chuckled.

How he even found that was beyond me. I mean, Jasmine made that for me when she was five. I packed it away along with a few other things. Just so I didn't have to live with the painful memories.

I smiled up at him and rested my hands on his hips, "Thank you, Ricky."

Placing his hands on my shoulders, Ricky sat so he was in my lap, "It's fine, Ry. I'm sorry for hurting you, too."

I leaned back and brought a hand up to the side of his face, running my thumb over his cheekbone.

Every day I found myself wondering how I ended up with someone like Ricky. Even if he didn't remember me or most of our memories, I felt everything we used to.

When he was going through the cycle of death, that felt just as bad for me as it did to him. It's like whatever pain he felt, I felt. Not just for my sake, but for his, I wanted to end the pain.

I leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips, pulling away to see his shocked, yet flustered, expression.

I grinned, shifting back but not letting go of him, "Come on, you need sleep."

"So do you, ass." He mumbled, crawling on top of me when my head hit the pillow.

I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer, "Sleep, Ricky."

He let out a small yawn before closing his eyes, instantly falling asleep.

I sighed. I couldn't sleep. I never really could. Usually, I would just lay with Ricky until I could find sleep, but there was something dragging me down. I can't say what, but it was heavy. Ricky's presence felt like it was helping drag that feeling down, too. Again, I don't know why. It's just how I felt.

• • •

I woke to the sound of scraping. I don't mean your normal scraping. I mean knife on surface scraping.

Untangling Ricky's hands from around my waist, I sat up, my eyes widening at the knife that floated around the room.

It was running across the wall, occasionally carving small things, mostly circles, but it still scared the fuck out of me.

Straight away, I knew it was Ricky. Slowly but surely, his abilities were coming into affect. I didn't like them one bit. Devin had more control over his ability, but Ricky had none. His revolved around violence and anger. It can get him everywhere and nowhere.

I looked back down at him and shook his shoulders, causing the knife's movements to stop.

Instead of dropping to the floor, it changed direction and pointed right at me, like it was replaying some sort of horror film scene.

It flew towards me, but I ducked just as it passed over my head.

With a grunt, I shoved Ricky off of the bed, causing him to instantly awaken.

"What the hell was-" He cut himself off when he saw the knife sticking out of the wall, his jaw dropping.

I could tell he was going to blame himself for this, too. But I didn't want him to do that. Not at all.

Before he could say anything, I crawled to the other side of the bed and jumped off of it, pulling him into my arms as he started to cry.

I shushed him and rocked up slightly, "Ricky... Ricky, it's fine."

I repeated those words, trying my best to comfort him and control his cries, but nothing worked.

He started to uncover what he was capable of, and I could tell he didn't like it. There was nothing to fix it, though. Nothing. No spell could change someone's ability. Ricky was stuck with this, no matter how hard he or anyone else tried to change it. It was only a matter of time before someone got hurt from it, though. He and I both knew that.

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A/N: Does anyone remember Mirrors or Affinity? Or even Ghosts..? If so, which one/s would you prefer to be brought back..? 😁🤔🤔💓