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?"

"Yeah, I fucking got it." Rafe says sternly as he lifts his head back up. He takes a breath, "Burn the mask, I don't know. Get rid of it all. It's over."

Barry wipes his nose, then shakes his head. "Well, where's my cut— Country Club?"

Rafe clenched his jaw. "I told you. I don't have it right now but—"

Barry lifts his eyebrows. "But?"

"But it's gonna take some time, alright? I can't just keep asking my dad for money. He's gonna get suspicious." Rafe says, standing up as he spoke.

"I wouldn't take my time, if I were you." Barry says, still on the ground. "I'm not exactly a patient person."

Rafe narrows his eyes at him. "Are you threatening me?"

Barry smiles, his gold tooth catching the sunlight outside. "Not you."

Rafe's breathing was steady but he was confident nothing else was. His mind was racing a mile a minute and he couldn't grasp onto one coherent thought if he tried. That's how it always was with him, it had become his new normal.

You'd see it first in his eyes, then a tension of his muscles, an inability to think clearly soon followed. Suddenly his liberal opinions were gone, his ability for nuance and emotional generosity were gone too.

If Barry was insinuating the person in question wasn't Rafe, it'd be Summer. And that meant he was catching onto Rafe's game, which was just one more reason to end this all now.

"Don't get cocky, Barry." Rafe's voice was calm, but that was usually when he was scariest. "I'll get you your money. And if your lack of patience causes us some problems here— I guess really only one of us needs to go down for this." he paused, his eye twitching slightly. "Do I need to remind you who I am? Who my father is? And who— no— what you are? You're nothing. No one in this town would bat an eye if I killed you right here, right now. No one would even notice you're gone, alright? So your threats—" he waves his hands towards Barry, shaking his head, "I'd keep 'em to myself, if I were you."

—

She felt so silly, so helpless. She hated that she had to be taken care of like this. Had to be brought these sad excuses for meals, had to be carried to the bathroom, couldn't even get up to get her own pills.

She'd watched the news all day. All they could talk about was him. They were calling him the 'ghostface killer', a nickname assumedly gathered from Summer and Rafe's description of the costume he wore.

They showed pictures of her friends, of Tyler, Holly, and Noah. Then Shoupe. Then the bartender from the other night, and then her and Rafe. Talking about how they were attacked and lived to tell the story.

She could've easily been up there with her friends. One of the photos put up to show the victims, the ones not lucky enough to get away. But was this lucky? To now be living in constant fear that he might come back for revenge? To kill her, to kill her friends?

To wish to have just been killed felt selfish. She was lucky to be alive. She should be grateful.

One of the nurses brought her bedside tray around to her bed, and placed the small plastic cup on it. "You have some guests waiting to visit, want me to send them in?"

Summer leaned forward as best she could and looked at the colorful assortment of pills, before falling back against her pillow. "Yeah, sure."

The nurse checked her bandages, then gave her a new IV, which usually she would cringe at— but after a hunting knife was plunged into her stomach, this was nothing. 

"Summer?" A voice called out, and she looked up to see Camila in the doorway, a balloon in hand.

Summer wanted to laugh, and cry. Sarah, Kelce, Topper and even Celine came around the corner and walked into the room.

Camila rushed forward and embraced Summer in a gentle hug, one that made Summer feel like a porcelain doll just one touch away from shattering. She handed her the 'get well soon' balloon and Summer laughed, taking it from her.

"Heard you kicked some ass the other night." Topper says as he walks towards her bed, before leaning down and hugging her next.

"Oh, yeah?" Summer scoffs as he pulls away, she weakly lifts up her slung up arm. "Does this look like kicking ass to you?"

"Still alive, aren't you?" Celine asks, sending the girl a nod of camaraderie.

Summer takes a breath. "Still alive."

"Are you..." Sarah didn't know how to ask, sure she'd heard the questions many times since then.

"Okay?" Summer says for her. "Physically, yes. It hurts but could've been worse. Mentally? Fuck no."

Sarah snd Camila exchange worried glances. "Rafe told me what happened. Told me you... stabbed him— the killer." Sarah said.

Summer swallowed harshly, glancing over to Rafe who spoke to Topper and Kelce in the corner of the room.

"Summer Sullivan stabbing a guy in the stomach. That's something I never thought I'd hear." Celine scoffs, coming around the other side of the bed to examine the vitals on the screen besides Summer's bed.

"Not something I'd ever thought I'd do." Summer let out a weak laugh. "Should've double checked my work." It was intended as a joke, but it came out a bit more dreadful than she intended.

"The island's on lockdown. No one in or out until they catch him." Camila says.

"Maybe should've done that after the first kills." Celine says, crossing her arms. "How long until you're out?" She nods towards Summer.

She shrugs. "Don't know. I can't really move much right now, so..." she rolls her eyes and groans, frustrated. "This is so fucking stupid."

Camila sends her an empathetic smile. "You still look good."

"For a half-dead girl." Celine adds.

"She is not half dead." Camila turns to Celine.

"Seventy percent." Summer says.

The girls laugh, a small exchange of normalcy, even though it hurt her to get out, it felt good to be reminded that she had a support system. People who'd show up for her, even if she didn't deserve it.

A gentle knock came from the door, and in walked Rafe. He seemed taken aback to see everyone in here, he glances around at everyone, then to Summer whose smile faltered when he looked a bit off.

"Where have you been?" Sarah asks, everyone's attention on him now. It seemed to be the only question she asked her brother nowadays.

Rafe clenched his jaw, walking into the room. "A couple stitches came out, so I had to get sewn up again." He nodded.

"You alright, man? How are you feeling?" Topper asks.

Rafe couldn't tell if he spoke with an accusatory tone or if that was in his head. It wouldn't be the first time coming from Topper, but Rafe reacted as he would on any usual day. "Yeah, I'm fine bro." Topper pulled him into a casual side-hug, and then Kelce did the same.

"If any of us were gonna survive this Ghostface guy, it'd be you two." Kelce jokes.

Sarah glances at Summer, trying to read on her face if Kelce's joke was premature, but she didn't appear fazed by it. "Is your dad back in town yet?" Sarah asks.

Summer scoffed. "Yeah, no. There's no funeral to attend, so why go through all of the trouble of flying back to visit your freshly-attacked teenage daughter while she's still alive, right?"

No one was sure whether that was a joke or not, so no one said anything at all. She looked over to Rafe, who watched her carefully as she spoke. She swallowed harshly, her eyes trailing back to everyone else, "Listen, it's alright. I'm already feeling better. I'm sure I'll be good to go home in a few days."

"Well, my parents still want you staying at Tannyhill until your dad's back in town. Especially after what happened." Sarah turns around and raises her eyebrows at her brother. "Right, Rafe?"

Rafe didn't seem like he was paying attention, too sidetracked by his own thoughts, but he nodded anyways. "Right."

"And once you're feeling better we can start planning your birthday party." Camila spoke excitedly. "Sarah and I were thinking we could do it at Tannyhill, too. We could swim, and do fireworks and—" she stopped. "If you want to? I mean we totally get it if you're not up for partying right now—"

Summer shook her head, letting out a relieved sigh. "No, no. Trust me— I'm always up for a party."

"Do you think it's smart, though? Right now?" Rafe speaks up, and everyone turns to look at him. "He's still out there."

"And at the rate the cops are investigating he's probably gonna be out there for another year." Summer says. "I'm Summer Sullivan. And I am not about to let this crazy motherfucker ruin my eighteenth birthday."