𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗱 / 𝗿𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗻

twenty-one

**Before I begin this chapter there's something I need to make clear**

Rafe in canon with the show and this story is an avid cocaine abuser. And its clear he is going through withdrawal. This is a serious topic, and something I can't even begin to grasp the feeling of.

So it's important to remember however much of a dick Rafe normally is, and however funny / entertaining this can be to some, withdrawal is not a joke and can cause emotions to be scattered, enhanced and especially bring on depression / thoughts of suicide.

He is not himself. People withdrawing from drugs are not themselves. And they will 9/10 times do anything to avoid withdrawal.

-

"Congratulations." Ward places his hands flat against the table, his fingers twitching. "That was, unexpected, to say the least."

Then he laughs, in a genuine, shoulder shaking, lip tugging, teeth showing, laugh. A laugh that says he actually finds this funny.

It didn't take much to realize he was laughing, at her.

He must have been watching them again, because seconds after she walked out on Rafe, Ward opened the door down the hallway like he knew she was there, like he'd been standing on the other side of the doorway, waiting.

She didn't give him the opportunity to put his hands on her, or to drag her off to some unknown location. Instead they exchanged a silent look and she followed him back upstairs and into a room on the first floor.

Valerie opens her mouth, but he doesn't let her say a word before he's speaking again. "I was wondering," Her eyes fall to his hands, fingers drumming against the table. "How long it would take you to figure it out. I knew it was a matter of time, but still, that was unexpected."

He laughs again.

"Didn't think I was capable of killing someone?" She snips, cutting in quickly before he has the chance to interrupt her again.

"No." He holds up a hand, ensuring anything else she wants to say is silenced. "I didn't think you were capable of killing–" He pauses, arching a brow. "You're little friend." He says decisively.

"Friend?" She snorts. "Why the fuck would I ever want to call someone you work with, a friend?"

"Valerie." Ward presses his lips into a tight line withholding many words he knows he shouldn't say. "Lets try something new. I'll be honest, if you are."

She shrugs. Because even though she knows she isn't telling the full truth, he doesn't need to know it. But she also knows every word he says is a lie, even if he claims it isn't.

"You think I'm unaware of what's going on in my own home?" He leans forward, clenching his teeth. Valerie flinches at the word home. "I know everything you do, every word you've spoken since you've got here. Every step you take, I am ten ahead."

Valerie blinks, her face blank but her mind runs wild with thought after thought. Because if everything she's learned in the past few hours has proved anything, it's that Ward is right. And hes been much more than ten steps ahead.

As much as she wants to snap back, to find the right words to say, she can't, her mind is elsewhere, too consumed with what she feels and everything that she doesn't. Peters body still seers behind her eyes, and each time she blinks, he's there. His blood has dried on her hands and shirt and face. But Ward looks at her like he doesn't even notice.

"You think I'm playing games?" He asks when its clear she isn't going to say anything. "Well, I know all about the games you've been playing too. Your conversations with Peter, your pit stop at home and your little talk with your father. You think you're being sneaky. But I know everything. And what you think you know, you're wrong."