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Sarah can still remember what life was like before. Back when they weren't like this. Back when they didn't hate each other.

She can still remember, but each day that passes it feels more foreign than the last.

"Psycho!" Sarah spits at him.

She hates it, the fact that she's insulting him like that. She hates the fact that they got to this point. How did they get to this point?

There is something in Rafe's eyes. Something cold. Something that makes her body go rigid. Something that makes her recoil.

"Psycho, uh?" he repeats nodding along "I'll show you psycho"

He grabs her by the wrist, so tightly that it actually hurts. Sarah squeals and fights as he drags her to his bike. John B runs to her, but the moment he comes close to Rafe... He is not able to dodge the punch that her brother lands against his throat. He falls to the ground, unable to breathe. 

"Rafe!" Topper shouts and Sarah cries.

Now she understands, with her boyfriend struggling for breath curled on the ground and her brother standing tall over him, with a grip of iron on her wrist. She understands why some people are scared of him. He's terrifying. Tall and strong.

And so big.

And violent. Aggressive.

"I'll go with you" she stops fighting him. There's no use. No point "I'll go with you, just...please stop"

Rafe looks at her, eyes still so cold, and lets go of her. Sarah rubs her wrist, there will be bruises in the morning. He hands her his helmet,  an action that shocks her a little . He does not care for her wellbeing. Not anymore, at least.

"Sarah, are you sure—" 

"Shut up, Topper!" he barks.

They don't give him time to answer, leaving before he says something else. It's comforting in a way, to leave Topper and John B behind. And that thought, that feeling, makes her feel terrible. What kind of person feels comfort when leaving their injured boyfriend behind? Sarah tightens her grip around Rafe's waist while they rode in his bike, her tears stain his shirt.

(He used to hold her when she had nightmares)

It's in a house in the middle of nowhere where he stops. He lives there now, she realises, although the owners probably don't know. 

"Why are we here?" she asks once they are inside the empty lobby "What do you want?"

"You know, I'm so tired of this" she doesn't like the way his eyes are so devoid of life. It's scary "Tired of you always getting what you want without doing anything to actually earn it while I have to do everything!"

"Me? This...I haven't done anything! Don't blame me for you being a disappointment to dad!"

The moment thoss words leave her mouth she regrets them. Sarah sees the pain in his eyes and feels like shit. Her brother doesn't deserve the treatment their father gives hum. It lasts only for a second, because his big hand wraps around her throat and pushes her against the hard wall. 

He is not choking her, only grabbing. Only pinning her against the wall. And only terrying her. 

Her heart beats like crazy. His eyes too cold, too dark, and Sarah is crying.

"God, you're such a bitch" he growls, his free hand travels up to her chest, groping at her breast. It sends shivers down her spine, and frees a quiet sob from her mouth "Such a fucking slut"

This cannot be happening to her.

He licks his lips, eyes so dark looking at her in a way he shouldn't be looking at all.

"What? Wh-hy? No. Rafe, pleasepleaseplease" she begs, warm tears falling down her cheeks "It's Sarah. It's your sister"

(The little sister you cradled in your arms)

Maybe he is high. Maybe he can't remember who she is. 

It's a thin hope that he immediately smothers.

"I know" he replies with a cruel smirk "My little sister"

He says it in a way that makes her shake, tremble. He kisses her, roughly pressing his lips to hers.

It's sick.

She should be fighting. Her arms and legs are free. She could scratch and kick. She should.

She doesn't.

(This are the same arms that held her when she was a child)

Sarah is frozen in place, letting him kiss her, letting him slip his tongue between her lips. Just...letting him. There's a sick, growing heat on her lower abdomen. A familiar heat, that she shouldn't be feeling in a moment like this.

Or in any moment, not with Rafe.

Rafe stops kissing her, and even lets go of her neck. She allows herself to breath. To fill her lungs with air.

(He used to press kisses all over her face while she giggled)

Maybe he has changed his mind. Maybe he has realized he was doing something wrong.

But the moment she dares to try to walk towards the door, she's face down on the floor and Rafe is behind her. He lifts her  denim skirt up to her hips, only her underwear left for protection. Protection against him.

How did they get here?

His big, warm hand is on the back of her neck, pressing her cheek to the cold tiles of the ground.

"Please... Rafe, please let me go" she sobs loudly, but doesn't fight. Can't fight "Please, please. I will forget this. I won't tell—"

"I don't give a shit" he growls to her ear. She shakes and more tears fall to the floor, like a stream "if you tell. I have nothing to lose now, so I can do whatever the fuck I want to do. And I want this. You have no idea how long I've wanted this"

She really doesn't, and she can't ask herself for how long because he is touching her there. In the place where only she had touched herself before. In the safety of her room, under the covers and not thinking about her brother.

His long fingers brush over her clothed sex. Sarah squirms, but not of fear. Not completely.

She wonder if it's an hereditary sickness.

(He used to protect her. She used to feel safe with him)

"You want this too. We both know it. And I deserve it. I deserve it after everything I had to put up with over the years" he practically rips her underwear, throwing it away to press a finger inside her. Sarah yelps at the feeling, so foreign. The hot summer air brushes her naked skin, but it's not as comforting as it used to be "See? Fuck, you are so fucking wet. Want me inside little sister? Want me to fuck you? Wouldn't be the first, would I? You are used to this"

He sounds so angry at something that is not even true. 

"No, no, no, no. I haven't" she swears "Rafe, I—"

Her words are cut short by a moan she can't help because he's rubbing her clit in a way that is far too practiced to be accidental. And it feels good. It shouldn't, but it does.

He's pumping his fingers, because he has added another, in and out with so much ease. It's mortifying and embarrassing and shameful. Her first time wasn't supposed to be like this.

And yet...

The heat in her lower abdomen feels like it's about to explode and she can't stop moaning, and—

He stops and Sarah whines.

"You are telling me you are a virgin? Is that it? None of your many boyfriends was good enough for you? Mmm?"

"Please—"

She doesn't know what she is begging for right now. She doesn't even want to know.

"Shhh" he hushes her, at the same time as he lets go of her neck. And somehow, not having that weight around her makes her sob even louder" Don't worry, I'll give you what you need, because only I can"

She doesn't move, doesn't want to know what he would do if she does. What he won't do.

Rafe uses both his hands to lift her hips. Sarah raises her head looking straight ahead. Towards the door.

She still doesn't try to run.

Why? She can't tell.

Then he is pushing against her, she can't see him, but she knows when she cries harder that he is thrusting into her. And he's big. He feels big.

But of course he is. Everything about him is big.

He does it hard and fast, like when someone rips out a bandage. And Sarah screams as loud as she can, but no one hears her.

It's too much.

Tears sting in the side of her eyes, even as they keep falling to the now-wet white tiles of the lobby.

"Does it hurt?" He is mocking her, but then moans "Fuck, you're tight. Stop screaming, you want this as much as I do. My little sister"

He thrusts into her, time after time. She doesn't know how many times pass until she's moaning again, but not from pain. Not completely. Not only

She's sweating, because it's too hot outside, maybe. Maybe because of moving her hips to meet his.

The heat in her lower abdomen feels about to explode once again, and maybe this time he'll let her. 

And she knows, she knows, it's sick.

"Rafe, Rafe, Rafe" she cries, not of pain.

It should be pain. It should.

It's not.

"See? You were meant for me. You were made for me. You are mine. Not John B's, not Topper's, not anyone's. Mine" it's a strained growl that pushes a particularly loud moan out of her "Fuck, Sarah. You're fucking perfect"

It's not hateful, not like it usually is. It's a praise. She likes it.

"Rafe"

She clenches around him, tears falling from her eyes and moans falling from her lips.

"My perfect baby sister" he says without breath.

She comes at the same time he does, gasping and shaking against the now-warm floor.

Rafe rolls onto his back, laying on the ground next to her. He pulls her to his chest, surrounding her with his arms. Sarah lets him, too tired to do anything else.