wicked | rafe cameron

you're wicked, Erin, you're evil

Ward waited in the living room as Rafe stumbled into Tanneyhill, completely shitfaced and barely able to stand.

"Son"

Rafe turned around, almost tripping over his own feet and having to hold on to the doorframe. His eyes were opened wide, though tired looking and red.
"Dad, uhhh, why... why are you awake?"

"I waited for you. You disappeared and nobody was able to reach you."

Ward slowly rose from his leather chair, walking towards his son. With each step closer to Rafe, he realized how wasted he was, worse than he'd ever seen him before.

"Rafe, you can't riot like that right now, drawing attention to yourself like that! Three people asked me what's wrong with you tonight.", he tried to get through to him, trying a softer tone this time.

But Rafe didn't listen, eyes glued to the ground now, glossy and tears about to overflow.
He swayed as his father put a hand on his shoulder, having to hold on to his other shoulder as well so he wouldn't trip.

"Did you hear what I said, Rafe?"

Rafe looked up, squinting at Wards serious face before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from throwing up all over his dad.
"I think I, uhm, I-"

He didn't get any further, saliva started accumulating in his mouth and Ward knew what was about to happen, already had to witness it way too many times.

"Okay, okay. Let's get you upstairs.", Ward stated calmly and started guiding his son to the stairs.

Every step felt like hell, Rafe's brain felt as if it was buzzing, his legs like they were about to give in. And they did, but Ward managed to pull him upstairs, to the bathroom where he started throwing up immediately.

Ward let go of him and watched him hunch over the toilet, retching and coughing, not sure what to feel.

"Jesus", he mumbled, though this sight was nothing new to him.
Rose came up behind him, woken up by the loud sounds and putting her hand around his arm. She watched Rafe with pure disgust.

"This boy... oh, I swear to god he better clean this shit up first thing-"

Rose stopped talking when Rafe dropped down next to the toilet, holding his aching stomach, feeling almost paralyzed from the pain, the drugs, the alcohol and the fact that Erin was about to get married.

"God he's dramatic", Rose whispered under her breath. She was right, Rafe was fucking dramatic but he had every right to be, drown in self-pity, cry his eyes out and shit like that. All over some girl.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears running down his face when Ward grabbed his arm again, pulling him back to his feet.

This time, Rafes knees were even weaker, couldn't even take a step without falling into his fathers arms.
Ward glanced at his wife. "Some help?!"

Together, they managed to get Rafe into his bedroom where he plopped onto his bed inelegantly.

"We're gonna talk about this tomorrow, Rafe.", Ward explained and straightened the fabric of his shirt.

Ward didn't have the energy to lecture him now, especially because Rafe wouldn't be able to remember anything he said anyways. There was no point.

"It's her, dad", Rafe mumbled, barely conscious.

"What?"