Wraith

Crumble

Sennas pov first, then ghost
Song inspo -Atlantic by sleep token
TW - suicidal ideation and suicidal thoughts

The drive back home was a silent one, no sound but the truck's steady hum as it took us home. Simon drove, and I was grateful for that, unsure if I would have been able to stay focused on the road in front of us. He had to have been just as tired, he was just as dirty and bloody as I was having spent the last few hours digging in rubble and pulling people out - dead and alive.

So much had happened all at once, it felt so rushed, like a blur. I struggled to remember the details so over and over again I replayed what happened in my mind, desperate to burn every mistake into my brain, every pair of eyes I'd had to close.

Simon told me to go to that place, become that person I had before where there was no humanity left but I couldn't if I tried. He changed me, my team changed me. I cared too much, felt too much now.

I felt it all.

There was nothing left. I had nothing left. I was done, truly. I should have never let Soap bring me back from Japan, should have never gone to work for Kate. Should have never fallen in love with the man sitting beside me.

It would hurt him the most. Johnny would move on, focus on Gemma, Price would pick up the pieces as best he could. But Simon, I knew if he lost me it would destroy him, because if I lost him it would do the same to me.

But I didn't have a choice anymore. I couldn't keep doing this. They would tell me over and over again that they weren't better off without me, but I knew the truth.

I was never meant to make it this far. Some sick twisted fate or imaginary man in the sky was playing cruel tricks on me, letting me get to this point. Well from here on out I'd take it into my own hands.

I loved them, all of them, but the pain felt too much to bear. Graves was gone, and though he'd destroyed so many lives in the process, I'd watch the light leave his eyes. There was no reason for me anymore. There was no more room on my hands for the dirt to help keep the world clean.

I was spent.

When we arrived at the house a sort of calm had washed over me, a peace I'd never felt before. I was okay with this. I needed this. I needed nothingness.

I looked over at Simon to find him already looking at me, his gaze tired but attentive, as if she was struggling to read me.

I climbed out then, my bones and muscles aching with every movement even once my feet were on the gravel. I glanced around. Not long ago I'd run down the driveway, I'd killed a man here and regained my memories, I sat here in the bed of the truck with Simon and gazed at the stars.

It was when I reached down to fetch the key from under the mat that I noticed my hands were shaking and I did my best to force them to stop but they wouldn't. I barely managed to get the key in the lock.

I was, scared? No. Death had never frightened me. I expected it multiple times. Perhaps because this was final, truly the end.

It was when the door didn't shut that I turned around to find Simon's boot blocking it and there must have been surprise on my face as I looked at him, because I could tell his brow furrowed under his mask.

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Ghosts pov
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When she turned to look at me I almost fell to my knees right there. I knew that look. She'd been there before, I had been there before but there was a determination that scared the living hell out of me. A chill washed through me, the most terrifying fear that I had only felt when I had carried her to a helicopter after she'd been shot.