𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙆𝙄𝙇𝙇! • 𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙚 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣

ten

CHAPTER TEN
[10]
song: crystallized by the xx

Rafe slipped out the hospital room when he was sure Summer had fallen asleep. It'd be a while before she woke back up given the cocktail of pills given to her to help with the pain, and he'd be sure to be back before then.

He barely let his motorbike come to a full stop before he got off and let it fall to the dirt. He yanked his helmet off his head and dropped it too as he charged towards Barry's trailer.

He swung open the screen door, hard enough to rip it off it's hinges, "Barry!" He yelled angrily, eyes scanning the porch.

Blood covered towels and cloths scattered the old couches, scissors, sewing needles, thread and four empty beer bottles remained on the table.

He turned towards the front door and pound his fist on it, yelling his name again before he tried the handle, and swung the door open.

Barry came around the corner, his face pale and drenched with sweat, as he clung to his stomach. Rafe really didn't mind to see him like this, if anything he'd hoped he would've looked worse. He charged inside, not hearing whatever sarcastic comment Barry forced out as Rafe quickly made his way towards him, brought his fist up and slammed it against his jaw.

Barry fell and hit the wall beside him first, before sliding down to the ground. "What the fuck, man?" He let out a pained chuckle, holding onto his stomach.

Rafe crouches down and grabs the collar of Barry's shirt, shaking him forcefully as he gets in his face. "The fuck were you thinking, huh?"

Barry looked confused. "The hell you mean? I did what you asked me to."

Rafe's lip twitched with anger, and he dropped Barry, letting him slam back against the wall as Rafe stood up, rubbing his mouth frustratedly as he paced back and fourth. "I didn't ask you to do all that. I didn't ask you to dig the fucking knife in her stomach?!" He raises his voice, and looks to Barry like he was insane

"I didn't hit anything important. She's still kickin, yeah?" Barry coughs out, leaning his head back. "I know what I'm doing. Got a bit more practice than you do." He nods towards him, insinuating Rafe wasn't pulling his weight in all this. He swallows harshly, like it hurt, then lifted up his shirt to see the poorly sewn up gash in his stomach. "Thanks for this, by the way. Told you she was nuts—"

Rafe snapped and turned back to him, shoving a finger in his face angrily. "She was defending herself."

"From what? I was on the fucking ground, shit." Barry clicks his tongue.

"You'd just stabbed her, you idiot— she— you tried to kill me. You tried to kill her." Rafe shook his head, running a hand through his hair, before he leaned back against the opposite wall, and slid down it to sit on the floor across from Barry.

Rafe held his head in his hands, trying to refocus himself, letting his rage simmer out before he spoke again. "We're done. No more of this shit."

Barry watched him steadily. "Whatchu mean done?"

Rafe lifted his head up, his eyes narrowed. "I mean it's done. You almost got caught—"

"We almost got caught." Barry cuts him off, pointing a finger at him. "Do I need to remind you that if this shit blows up I'm taking you down with me?"