Rafe was already regretting this. How on earth had Sarah talked him into babysitting her and John b’s newborn? Oh yeah, he was trying to be a better brother, he forgot.

The baby was already whining and warbling, giving Rafe a splitting headache and the overwhelming desire to just give up. But he couldn’t do that, not to a baby, he wasn’t a monster (contrary to popular belief).

But he didn’t know how to handle babies, but you did.

baby, i need u. come over quick

You didn’t really know what that text meant, but knowing Rafe it could be anything. So she quickly sped over to his house, using the spare key he’d given you to let yourself in. “Rafe?”

“In here, baby. Seriously, ’m going fuckin’ mental.” He complains, his voice (along with the crying of a baby) carrying from the kitchen. He was frantically trying to clean up some milk he’d split with a sopping wet towel, whilst the baby sobbed next to him in a high chair.

“Jesus, Rafe…” You say as you see the scene, dropping her bag against the wall.

“I know, honey. I have no clue what the hell ‘m supposed to be doing.”