Chapter Text
Being Zoey Raghavan’s partner is the easiest thing Riley’s ever done. The two of them just fit. Seamlessly, like pieces of a puzzle, or the last brick of a Lego technic set.
Zoey is quiet, but talks constantly. Riley is loud, but doesn’t talk much. Zoey runs cold, Riley runs hot. Zoey sleeps so deeply that Riley is honestly worried about her chances of survival if there’s ever an actual fire in the building. Riley wakes up if the wind starts blowing in a different direction.
That last one both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, they’ve never once slept through an alarm, or been late to a morning shift. On the other, it means their friends have learned to call Riley first if they need either of them between the hours of 2 and 10 AM. Which, given the…unique circumstances that had forged their friendship, and the fact that Riley has yet to be convinced that each and every one of them isn’t in desperate need of severe psychiatric treatment, happens fairly often.
It doesn’t help that Riley has the unfortunate luck to be the only one of them with a reliable car, a valid driver’s license, and some semblance of road safety. Zoey had never learned to drive. Suzie’s partial blindness and Grant’s tendency to forget where he was and what he was doing had left them both without licenses. Lee might’ve had a driver’s license, and was a surprisingly careful driver, but their car was an absolute piece of shit, vomit yellow and older than any of them (except maybe Grant) that they refused to replace no matter how many times it broke down and one of them had to go rescue them. And then there was Abby. Sweet, reliable Abby, with a valid driver’s license, a perfectly respectable jeep wrangler, and a complete disregard for anything even remotely resembling a road safety law. The less said about the last time Riley had gotten in her car the better.
All that to say, Riley’s phone lighting up and blasting Abby’s custom ringtone (Bad Reputation, because they’d set it in the immediate aftermath of their first and only time in Abby’s car, and it’d felt appropriate) at 3:46 AM, is enough to startle them awake, but is a common enough occurrence that they feel justified in glaring over at the phone for a moment before answering.
“If you ask me to play Elden Ring to ‘cure your insomnia’ again, I’m going to block you for real this time.” Riley announces, rubbing the sleep from their eyes.
(They’ll do it, of course, if she asks. Just like how they know Grant will ramble on about his current class’s lab reports when Suzie calls him in the middle of the night, or how Lee and Zoey binge trashy anime over zoom when Zoey can’t sleep. They’ve all had to comfort each other at some point. Riley doesn’t know whether they’d have recovered from the kidnapping without each and every one of their friends there to help. And if the price to pay for that is Elden Ring at 4AM on a Wednesday morning? Well, Riley’s willing to do it, with some complaints.)
There’s no response. Riley frowns, checking the screen to make sure they’d picked up. “Hello?”
Nothing.
“Abby?”
Abby is a woman of strict routine. When she wakes up from a nightmare, she immediately goes and makes herself an espresso shot, downs it without flinching, then goes to find Lee to check their pulse (it’s a good thing the two of them are roommates, because she absolutely should not be driving in that state). When she’s assured herself that they’re still breathing, she’ll call one of the rest of them in a frenzy to keep herself busy until they wake up and cooks them both breakfast. She’s never called this late and not immediately launched into a rant or a thorough plan for how they’re going to spend the next few hours.
It’s so out of the ordinary that Riley’s almost convinced themself it was a butt-dial, or something, when they hear a soft, shaky inhale from the other side of the phone.
Something’s wrong.
“What happened?” Riley demands, climbing out of bed and fumbling around in the dark for their clothes, phone pressed between their ear and their shoulder.
They manage to find their boxers and what is either their binder or Zoey’s tank top before Abby speaks up.
“I’m at the hospital.”
Definitely Zoey’s tank top. (Riley resists the urge to make a joke about Abby being long overdue for a car accident by telling themself that that’s something Lee would say right now.) “Are you okay?”
There’s another long moment of silence. Riley tugs on an old pair of black basketball shorts and a red college sweatshirt they’re pretty sure used to belong to Zoey’s dad. Where did they leave their keys this time?
“Lee tried to kill himself.”
Everything screeches to a halt. Riley fumbles the keys, and they crash to the ground alongside a glass of water they’d managed to elbow off Zoey’s desk as well. Across the room, Zoey lets out a sleepy little mumble and rolls over.
“What?”
Abby takes another deep, shuddering inhale. “I’m in the waiting room of the ER right now. They haven’t told me anything yet.”
Okay. Okay. Abby can’t be the stable one right now. Suzie won’t be either, once she finds out. It’s up to them. Riley swallows back the bile rising in their throat, chokes down the what and the why would they-, and locks away the rising feelings of dread and guilt and grief and why didn’t I see it coming-
“Okay. Have you called anyone else?”
“No.” Abby’s voice is tiny. Riley hasn’t heard her this quiet since the last time Lee was on their deathbed.
“Did you drive there?”
“No.” Abby mumbles “I rode in the ambulance.”
Alright. “Are you gonna be okay on your own for a bit? Zoey and I can be there in 20.”
“I…probably.”
She sounds less sure than they would’ve hoped, but it’s something. “Okay. Do you need us to bring you anything?”
“…I’m still in pajamas.”
It’s almost funny enough for Riley to laugh. “Got it. I love you. We’ll be there in 15.”
“…love you too.”
Riley waits for Abby to hang up before flipping the light switch and placing a hand on Zoey’s bare shoulder.
Shaking her awake is, by necessity, more rough than gentle, and yet it still feels like an eternity before Zoey stirs, squinting her eyes against the warm light of their bedroom and mumbling something about ‘late for school’ and ‘5 more minutes’.
“Zo.” Riley hisses, shaking her a bit harder.
“No. Not here today. Lemme sleep.”
Riley bites their lip. Under any other circumstance they’d find this adorable. “Lee’s in the hospital.”
Zoey continues to lay there in silence for just long enough for Riley to wonder if she’d heard them. Then her head snaps up from the pillow so sharply their own aches in sympathy. “What?”
Riley swallows roughly. “Abby just called. Lee’s in the hospital.”
Zoey stares uncomprehendingly for a long moment, still partly asleep, before realizing her…state of undress, and scrambling upright to reach for her glasses and clothes. “What happened?!”
Riley considers, for a single, selfish moment, lying. I don’t know. There was an accident. She didn’t say.
They know it’s their own misguided protective nature talking. Despite what Lee themself would say (has said, actually, on multiple occasions) Zoey is anything but fragile. Their girlfriend, even before the traumatic kidnapping that had introduced the two of them in the first place, had managed to claw her way out, mentally and physically, of the wreck she’d been in after the bipolar episode that’d resulted her leaping in front of a semi truck. She’d endured the trials of countless new medications, the physical therapy, and having to completely restart her life from scratch, all with the endless well of strength inside her that she herself didn’t think existed. She’d never needed Riley to protect her from the mere mention of suicide.
It didn’t stop them from wanting to, of course.
(Beyond that, it was also no secret that Lee and Zoey’s relationship was…complicated, to say the least. They’d been cell mates the entirety of Zoey’s time in captivity. They’d kept each other alive in more ways than one. And yet, the first thing Lee would do when they got angry was to turn on her, make her the target of all their frustration and rage.
They’d never talked it out after the escape, and it wasn’t Riley’s place to force it, as much as they might’ve wanted to.)
Unfortunately, the only thing Riley’s ever been able to keep from Zoey is the little black velvet box sitting inside their drum kit, waiting for them to work up the nerve to commit to something for once in their stupid fucking life.
“Abby says Lee tried to kill himself.”
Zoey stills, her faded red sweatpants only halfway on. Riley takes the chance to grab their overnight bag from under the bed and open up the bottom drawer of the dresser to grab the jeans and sweater that Abby leaves over for impromptu sleepovers.
“Lee?” Zoey whispers. Riley’s heart aches at how small her voice sounds. They impulsively toss a set of Lee’s clothes in the bag as well, slinging it over their shoulder before marching over and pulling Zoey into a firm embrace.
They stay like that for a moment before Riley finds their words again. “Abby’s there by herself.”
Zoey, ever the empath, understands what they’re trying to say immediately. God, they love her. “Ok. Let’s go.”
(Zoey is already calling Suzie and Grant to let them know the situation as the two of them make their way to the car.)
(It takes twelve minutes to drive from Zoey and Riley’s apartment complex to the hospital. They make it in eight.)