Fragile Hearts | RAFE CAMERON

S2 - Twenty | R U S H O U T

— 5 months later (for the plot)

At this point I don't know if i'm coming or going.

I'm okay today.

For the first time in a while.

For this brief, blissful moment, I'm okay. I can think and feel and do things and it's not even hard. I've spent so long hoping my depression would go away, and i'm finally free. I'm okay.

Except for the thought in the back of my head, For how long?

Ward has been taking care of everything and so far the investigators have nothing. But there's still that thought in the back of my mind about that entire day.

I had finally got back on my medication and my mind is more clear. Clearer than when I pulled a gun on Ward which I regret wholeheartedly. I caused this mess, all this conflict.

I moved in with the Cameron family, not wanting to face my mom for her burning my dads letters. I don't know if I'll ever talk to her again. I don't plan to.

The gold, when I went back to Cranes house on my own was missing. I have no idea where it went and honestly I don't care anymore about it. I'm just taking everything day by day hoping that one night I'll get over everything.

I lay there, pressed against Rafe's chest as he sleeps soundly, his arms wrapped around me in a comforting hold. I can feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against my back, his heartbeat a steady lullaby lulling me into a state of relaxation — But my stomach drops at every shout that filters through the door.

Ward and Rose are at it again. Their voices, muffled by the closed door. They're angry at us—But it's not Rafe they're angry with, not really. It's me. I know this, but Ward can't bring himself to say it to my face. He fears that if he does, I might retaliate—turn Rafe against them, perhaps even involve the police about the Peterkin issue.

A loud slam of a door startles me, making my heart jump into my throat. The sudden noise wakes Rafe from his sleep. He stirs, his hold around me tightening. "What's wrong?" he asks, his voice rough from sleep.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes—I'm not used to this kind of tension, this kind of conflict. I wipe my tears away, hoping he won't notice them. "They're fighting again," I whisper, my voice shaky.

Rafe sits up, rubbing his eyes. "Do you wanna go for a drive? That always helps," he suggests, already starting to get up.

I check the clock on the bedside table—it's 10pm. "No, you need some sleep. I'll be fine," I assure him, not wanting to disturb his rest.

"They'd wake me up eventually, so..." he shrugs, already tossing me a pair of shorts to wear under his t-shirt. I catch it, pulling it on quickly. He throws on a shirt and we sneak downstairs, careful not to alert Ward and Rose. He grabs the keys to Ward's truck, and we're out the door.

The cool night air is a welcome relief from the tension in the house. We drive to the beach, the familiar route taken countless times before. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, coupled with our favorite songs playing softly from the truck's stereo, helps to ease the unease in my heart.

We sit there in silence, just listening to the music and the sound of the sea. For a while, we forget about the angry voices, the slamming doors, and the threat of Peterkin.

"So... what do we do now?" He asks me.

"I was thinking we could go to the Chateau so I can see if there's anything else I can find about my dad. I think I'm ready now."

"Alright." He sighs, turning the ignition. "Where is the Chateau again?"

"Let me drive." I tell him, getting out the car. He gets out the driver seat and we swap places. Soon enough we were at the Chateau. We go inside and look around the place, it was messy but of course there was no one there to clean it up.