salvation sequel [rafe x barry]

love and war

A full soul loathes a honeycomb; but to a
hungry soul, every bitter thing is sweet.
Proverbs 27

The few meetings Rafe had set up for the morning went smoothly, and the cash left them both with a sweet feeling of euphoria in their stomach, the subtle twist you get with the taste of molly or acid on your tongue, awaiting promised ecstasy.

For Rafe, the feeling soon faded into anxiety though, once Barry stopped the car by the side of the road in front of Tanneyhill, indicating clearly, he had no intention of going back in with him.

Rafe sat quietly for a while, cheek sucked in between his teeth and biting on it, his brain only able to grasp a single thought with the distracting pain to set it straight. His gaze stuck to the house, while Barry waited for him to get out, or for him to say-

"I don't know if he's still in there", Rafe commented, eyes fixed to the white walls as if he could look through them if he tried hard enough, before he turned over.

"I wasn't coming in anyways, man", Barry shrugged, not up for the same discussion twice. Thinking, like an addict in recovery, after he'd thrown out his new made rules last night, he could still do better, still try again today. "I got shit to do, bro"

"Really?", Rafe asked. "What kind of shit? Maybe I can help.."

"You wanna help me shopping?", Barry laughed loudly, picking up a bundle off cash from the console and shaking it. "Come to the barber with me? That where we at?"

Rafe sucked in his cheek. "Nah-", he made and collected his bag of cash from the floor.

Only with the second nervous look over to the house Rafe threw, hand hesitant to reach for the handle, Barry realized what this was about, damned himself for talking shit too quickly, ruining Rafes way out.

"I mean..we still gotta celebrate sealin' the deal, right, bro, we could go back to my place, if you're..you know, scared to g-", he offered.

"I'm not fucking scared", Rafe hissed. "The fuck. Go do your shopping, bitch. And leave the celebrating to me, yeah, you pogues don't know how to"

Barry raised his eyebrows before he let out a low huff. "'Course". That's what you fucking get for giving a shit, trying to help, that's why Barry was here, in the car, and Rafe was getting out.

He quietly watched Rafe walk over to the house, addict in recovery, thinking tomorrow he'll stop, tomorrow he'll stop caring, stop offering, tomorrow for real.

Now that Rafe had just completely fucking changed the game, by deciding he was gonna stay in the obx, Barry felt helpless around him.

His plan would've worked fine, with Rafe across the ocean and Barry didn't know if he could bear him here. How the fuck to go on, now. It was either end it or...the scary fucking opposite, Barry just knew they couldn't stay in this weird transition phase that was supposed to waste the time, until Rafe left again.

Even with a key, Rafe had always felt like an intruder in Tanneyhill, and hadn't dropped the nasty feeling yet. When he walked in and the rest of his family was together, on the couch or at the dining table, he felt like a creep sometimes, who'd walked in on this family's perfect life. Like it was somehow just wrong to be there, like it was criminal to exist along side of them. Sneaking in in the mornings drunk and coming down didn't help the feeling, when he paced through hallways as if they weren't his.

Rafe walked through the house, hesitant to cut every corner, take any step, yelling down hallways: "Dad?"

It's not that he was scared. He really wasn't.