Nothing to Lose

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** Hey y'allll :) so ik a lot of you saw my tik tok, and that scenario is definitely what this is wrapped around, but i'm going to have a plot and story leading up to it and after !! i know some of you wanted a "y/n" pov, but tbh, i SUCK at writing in that format lmfaoo so the girl has a name and character, but feel free to picture her as yourself ;) also, this is third person pov but will be switching from his and hers side often!! i'm genuinely so excited for this and will try to update as often as possible! **

ps i absolutely love feedback so feel free to comment and interact!! if you have any ideas or specific tropes you'd like throw em out there and i'll see how they align w the storyline ! luv u's - rhy
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Beyond the Banks

Rafe dropped the gun that was aiming at the pogues on their lifeboat. He couldn't do it. It would've taken one shot to end it all. The terror on his family, the viscous cycle he was living...and he couldn't do it. He imagined the smile on his father's face at the news of he had done it, but that image wasn't enough to have him carry through. It was the image of Sarah crying over John B's body that stuck with him, made him put the gun down entirely.

"FUCK!", he shouted and tossed the gun down on the ship floor. He put his hands over his head, angry at the feeling of mercy that he possessed in the moment.

He saw a shimmer of light hit the corner of his eye just then. The cross was being pulled up onto the boat. He did it. That's what mattered to Ward most anyway. The money. The gold. A smile crept onto his face. It was him that first held the rope to pull it up. He was at the front of the line to make sure what was his, stayed his. No more getting robbed by the pogues so easily. He'd keep fighting.

He looked down at his bloody, rope-burned hands. "I did it", he muttered, his hands shaking slightly from the pain, "I did it, Dad."

•••••

There were three more days of travel until they finally reached shore. Ward was healed up a little better, but still rather foggy. Rafe had taken care of him, sat through the lectures and sobs for Sarah's return, and now he was finally up and walking around the deck.

"Listen, son", Ward spoke in his hoarse voice, "I'm going to need you to pick up the slack now that I'm injured."

"I know, Dad", he answered, "You don't have to worry. I'll do it. I'll do anything."

Ward's eyes softened a bit before an approving smile crept into his face, "That's my boy", he slapped his hand on Rafe's shoulder and squeezed harder than he should've.

•••••

Rafe held the rolled up hundred in his hand, moving it slightly between his fingers.

Just one more until the island. Then I'm done, he thought.

He sniffed the line and pulled away as he cleared his throat. He considered throwing the bag in the toilet. Washing it away, so he wouldn't have temptations, but he couldn't. He didn't have Barry to supply him anymore. If he ever wanted to resort back by chance, if he ever needed a hit, he could rely on the last of this bag.

They packed everything up and were now walking from the ship onto land. The breeze felt nice, the air dryer than it was a sea for all these days. The change still didn't clear Rafe's mind. He constantly felt wired, like the gears in his head were too greased up and turning a mile a minute. On top of that he felt as if he were always fighting for his sanity. There was the other guy, the one with no mercy that could get anything done without batting an eye. The one that made his father proud. Then there was him. Rafe Cameron. The boy that took care of his sisters and used to hit the waves with his close friends. He didn't see much of him anymore. He wondered if he'd ever be him again, or if the other guy had just killed him and there was no turning back.