Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You really do have a beautiful family, Samuel.”

The man in black caressed Katrina Drake’s face. She tried to jerk her head away from him. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to stay still, his claw-like fingers threatening to puncture her skin.

“Don’t touch her,” Sam hissed.

She couldn’t see her husband from where she was. Her hands were secured behind her back with thick cable ties and kept her from being able to get to Sam. She knew from his voice exactly how worried he was. She had the same fear.

“Such a pretty one. You could do much better than him.”

He gripped her thick hair, holding her still as he examined her like an object.

Trina spit in his face.

He paused, letting her go long enough to wipe the spit from his skin. Before she could savor her small victory, he punched her hard in the face. Her head slammed into the wall not far behind her from the force.

“Trina? Trina!” Sam called, that familiar edge of panic in his voice.

Disoriented, she tried to reassure her husband but she couldn’t form words. Darkness edged her vision. Her eyelids felt heavy, weights tugging at them.

“Babe… baby, say something. Anything.”

The crook chuckled. “Well, you took that like a champ. Impressive.”

“Sam…” she breathed, the words soft, her voice cracked.

“Right here, I’m right here. Okay? I’m right here.”

She could hear him struggling with his own bindings.

“Hen… ry…?”

“He’s safe, sweetie. Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. Baby, I need you to wake up.”

She groaned, trying to focus on her husband’s voice. To fight. Only their captor was faster and hit her again. Her head drooped, her body going limp as she lost consciousness.

“TRINA!”

New Orleans

Three Months Earlier

In and out. That’s what Sully had promised. A simple job. No trickery, at least, not really. After all, who would expect a mother with an infant of being a thief? Or the doting father pushing a stroller? That was the way the Drakes liked it. Under the radar.

An easy lift and grab. Low risk. All in all, the perfect postpartum job.

Trina gave Henry a kiss after she lifted him out of the stroller. Their son had the same darker hair as his father but her green eyes. There was an intelligence behind those eyes, even at six months old. In fact, she was beginning to suspect Sam’s hunch about bail money would be correct.

But again, what else could someone expect from a child raised by thieves?

Technically, she wasn’t much of a thief compared to their family. Her loving husband had the longest prison record of them all. Her brother-in-law, Nathan Drake, was considered a reformed thief now, especially since having retired from treasure hunting for a second time. Victor Sullivan, the family patriarch of sorts, might be mostly retired, but he had the most experience and had taught the brothers a lot of what they knew.

And while her sister-in-law, Elena, knew several thieves and had married one, she wouldn’t consider herself one.

They were an interesting family, but a family all the same. And Trina wouldn’t trade them for anything.

With Henry balanced on her hip, she entered the small museum, Sam not far behind her with the stroller. Parenthood hadn’t changed much about him, except for the smoking. He still hadn’t been able to complete kick it, but he tried not to smoke more than three a day. And he always went outside so Henry didn’t have to breathe it.

But he still preferred his old broken in jeans and graphic tees.

Trina had dressed down in loose jeans herself since she spent a lot of time chasing after Henry these days. He’d mastered rolling over early and was on the verge of crawling. He was always looking for trouble, like she imagined her husband had been as a child. Sam never talked much about his childhood. Especially not before the orphanage.

“Aww, who’s this handsome little guy?” a female voice practically squealed.

Trina turned to look at the middle aged woman with a smile. “Hi, this here is Henry. Can you wave hi?”

He rubbed his face against her shirt, half peeking at the other woman. He had already mastered the Drake charm and he couldn’t even talk yet. He did a good job of being shy when it worked to their advantage.

And he was cat nip for older ladies.

“He’s precious! How old is he?”

“Just turned six months,” she said, trying hard not to be too proud. It was hard not to be, especially not when one thought about how high stress her pregnancy had been. How close she’d come to losing her husband. Or how traumatic Henry’s birth had been.

“Oh, that’s such a great age. Lost the baby weight already, I see. Very lucky.”

“Well, someone has to keep up with him, right, sweetie?”

“My first born was non-stop. Always on the move. If she was awake, she was getting into something. And once she learned to talk… oh there was never a quiet moment again!”

Trina smiled. “Well, he’ll have lots of competition for that in our house. It’s already hard to get a word in edgewise with his dad and uncle.”

“Aww, having family close by is the best.”

She nodded.

Then she felt the signal. Three taps on her lower back.

Trina shifted her weight some and looked down at their son. Almost immediately he started to wail. He hated when she let her hip drop down. All she could think was that he thought she might drop him.

“Oh, someone must be getting sleepy,” the other lady said. “I’ll let you go take care of this precious little one!”

“Thanks,” she said, rebalancing Henry and his cries turned into more snuffily sounds as she headed for the exit.

“Here, I got ‘em,” Sam said, reaching out for his son.

Henry’s entire demeanor changed and he smiled up at his father. She handed him over and almost immediately he was back to making happy baby sounds.

She pushed the stroller as they left the museum and headed on down the street. Once they were a few doors down, Trina looked over at her two favorite men.

“So?”

Still holding Henry, Sam made a physical key appear in his hand with the easy of a practiced card trick.

“You have to teach me one day how you do that.”

“One day,” he said with a grin, before giving her a kiss. “Hi.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

“Like blackmail?”

“Maybe,” she smirked at him, getting Henry set back in the stroller.

“Sounds like fun.”

Katrina shook her head as they resumed their walk, Sam once again in charge of the stroller. They turned on the next block and headed toward a small bistro with outside tables. It was fairly empty considering it was midday on a week day.

“Well, that was quick,” Sully remarked, straightening up as they approached. He was without his trademark cigar, though the mustache alone gave him away.

“We are professionals, Victor. I thought you had faith in us,” Sam said.

“In her, yes.”

She laughed and reached out to hug to the older gentleman. He returned the embrace.

“That really hurts, Victor. Really.”

“How are you doing, darlin’? He giving you any trouble? Just say the word…”

As she sat down at the table, she looked up at her husband. “I forgot how much I missed the rush.”

“It’s addictive,” Sam echoed, parking the stroller between the two of them, taking the chair on her right.

“Plus it was good to get out of the house.”

“I take it you want more jobs?” Victor Sullivan looked from husband to wife as Sam produced the key.

“Sign us up,” Sam said. “Please. You have no idea how boring it is.”

“Hey!”

“Not—not you, babe! No, the whole being stuck at home, changing diapers, and making bottles. I feel parts of my brain dying. Even prison was—actually, no, that’s not what I—hey!”

Trina examined her fingernails innocently. “Hmm? What were you saying, babe? I think I dozed off for a moment there.”

While he sputtered, trying to find the right words, Victor packed up the key and slipped a small bundle of cash toward them. Sam took it, flipping through the bundle a bit, and then concealed it in a pocket.

“You should come by the house next time you’re here. We’d love to catch up. I seriously need an adult. I have three kids now,” she said.

“Three?” Victor looked between her, Sam, and baby Henry. “Are you…?”

“Oh—no, no, just Henry, Sam, and Nate.”

The older man let out a hearty chuckle. “Well, you seem to be handling it well. I’ll be back through in about a month or so. I’ll let you know the details.”

“That’d be great. Plus any odd jobs you can think of.”

“Always, darlin’. Good luck with the little rascal and the others,” he said, nodding toward Sam. “He’ll be grifting like the other boys before you know it.”

“Victor, safe flight,” Sam said, picking up Henry as he started to fuss in the stationary stroller.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing Samuel Drake holding a baby,” Sullivan said, shaking his head at the thief as he held his son.

“Just wait until he learns how to pick your pockets, old man. No cigar will ever be safe again!”

“Want me to drop him outta the plane somewhere?”

“No, no, it’s fine. Safe travels, Sully. See you again soon.”

“Will do. Time for some sunshine and a little R&R. Stay outta trouble if you can.”

“Always,” she said warmly. Sully was the closest thing she had to a parent these days and he’d warmed up to her almost instantly. He was still a bit prickly around Sam, but that seemed to be normal for the two men.

“Say ‘bye’ to Grandpa Victor,” Sam said, waving Henry’s hand at Sullivan.

He shook his head and waved back before walking away.

“Ready to go home?”

She nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, let’s.”

As he set Henry back in the stroller, a shiver ran down her neck. Trina turned around to look, tucking hair behind her ear, but she didn’t see anyone. Frowning, she fell into step with her husband and they headed toward their home, neither Drake noticing the man that followed them from the shadows.

Chapter Text

I could really get used to this…

Sam stood in the doorway of the nursery, arms crossed. The lights were turned low, but he could still see easily. Trina sat in the rocker with Henry in her arms. His eyes were closed, his lips sucking away at the pacifier in his mouth. He was half covered with a blanket as she patted and rubbed his back.

He watched them for a long moment before continuing down the hall to their bedroom. He kicked off his shoes in a corner of their room before going into the bathroom to start the shower. Stripped down to his boxers, Sam grabbed a fresh shirt, sweats, and boxers.

He groaned as the warm spray inside the shower hit his sore muscles. One of his favorite things about their house was the blindly hot taps. And the high pressure shower.

As he rubbed shampoo into his hair, the curtain rattled. Blinking, he turned to see Trina step into the shower.

He kissed her forehead then stepped back under the spray to rinse out his hair.

“Hi,” she said softly.

“Hi.” He pulled her closer to him and gave her a deep kiss. “Henry go down?”

“Yeah, like a light.”

Sam nodded, staring at his wife. She looked tired but she still had a glow about her. Even with the still healing scars low across her hips. She was self-conscious about the C-section scars, he knew, and kept them covered as much as possible. He just remembered the fear of losing them both. All he ever saw was the love of his life and the mother of his son. Nothing else mattered.

“You’re wandering again,” Trina said softly, her hand on his cheek bringing him back to the present.

“Mhm, sorry.” He kissed her hand. “How’s my favorite wife?”

“Tired… he’s so fast…”

He laughed, rubbing her shoulders and she let out a moan.

“Seriously, what are you putting in those bottles?” she asked.

“Umm, let’s see, I usually start with a pinch of cocaine…”

“Only a pinch? Try a scoop next time.”

Sam shook his head as his hands slid down her back to her hips. Trina turned and she was mostly under the spray. He sighed.

“Where you at? Sam?”

He shook his head, blinking his eyes. “Uh, nowhere I guess. Must just be tired.”

“Mhmm, well, I do know a recipe for a great night’s sleep.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” he asked, pulling her in closer, arms around her waist as the water beat down on them both.

“I do. But I’ll need some help.”

“Uh huh.”

Trina stepped back from him with a familiar smirk as she leaned her back against one of the tile walls. He followed her, already sensing the game of seduction she was leading.

“Now what?”

She chewed on her lip for a moment and then kissed him deeply, on her toes to reach his lips.

Sam backed her into the wall and helped lift her up, her legs wrapping around his waist and her arms his neck. Slow and deep, they moved, neither capable of words at the moment.

When the water turned cold, he carried her back to their bed, both of them still wet, and still tangled together.

Earlier

He stared at the letter again. It didn’t seem real. It was probably a prank. It had to be.

You owe me. Return what you stole or I’ll steal something of yours.

Tick, tock, Samuel.

Sam ripped the paper in half and stepped outside on the balcony. He flicked his lighter, holding it to the edges of the paper. As it burned against his ash tray he lit up a cigarette. Fuck, he needed that hit of nicotine bad.

It wasn’t the first vague threat. It wasn’t even unique. Especially now that they were in the semi-public view thanks to Libertalia.

But something about this note disquieted him. He just couldn’t pin-point it. Hell, he couldn’t even narrow down the field of people he might have stolen from. He’d been a thief most of his life. He’d started small—pickpockets, simple lifts, and small grifts. In jail, he learned from other crooks. Working off and on with Victor Sullivan and his cronies had given him lots of experience.

Sure, he wasn’t the best older brother for dragging Nathan down with him. But he had a knack just like him. And when it was the difference between starvation and a meal, he ignored any moral leanings. He had to.

What kind of father abandoned his kids anyways? While he might not have taught them to steal, he certainly didn’t give them the skills to survive. Nope, he just dumped them at St. Francis’. And eventually he ended up tossed out on the streets to find his own way to stay alive. And to try and support himself and Nate.

Being a thief kept them alive. It provided. Plus, with his record, no reputable boss would hire him. It was part of why he kept working for Rafe after Panama. He needed the scratch.

The list of people he wronged was at least a mile long. He’d never remember them all. Shit, he couldn’t even make a top ten list right now. That life felt distant now—a hazy half-memory.

But unlike his worthless father, he’d never abandon Henry. And if anyone wanted to come after his family, they’d have to get through him first.

Morning

Trina rolled onto her back as sunlight peeked through the opening in their curtains. She groaned a bit, trying to turn away.

It didn’t matter since it was mere seconds before Henry started crying.

She stumbled out of the blankets and yanked a robe on her naked body before heading down the hall. She was moving completely on autopilot just like most mornings. Sam often got up with him over night but for some reason he timed his first morning cries for her.

“Hey, bud, mommy’s here…” she said, smiling at him as she reached into the crib to pick him up.

He sniffled some. But the tears were mostly gone already. Little stinker.

“Time for breakfast.”

They headed downstairs where she prepared a bottle and turned on the coffee pot. She yawned before sitting down on the living room recliner to feed him. Henry latched onto the bottle with a single-minded focus that brought to mind Sam on a treasure hunt. There were so many little similarities between her two favorite men.

Not long after the coffee finished brewing and she was working on getting Henry to burp, her husband shuffled into the kitchen, his hair sticking up at odd angles and his sweats slung low over his hips. Every tattoo was on display though her personal favorite would be the birds on his neck. She liked to call them his jailbirds.

“Mhmm.” He kissed her forehead before going to the coffee pot.

“Okay, whew, time for a diaper change, kiddo,” she remarked.

“I got ‘em,” Sam called. He offered her a coffee mug in exchange for their son. She took it gratefully.

“My hero.”

“Love ya. C’mere you stinker! Whew, this one is practically nuclear reactor meltdown levels!”

She shook her head, sipping at her coffee as she padded toward the kitchen. She poured him a mug before claiming one of the bar stools at the counter.

It wasn’t long before Sam pressed a kiss to her cheek and Henry pulled at her robe.

“All clean now, huh?” She put her mug down and took her son. He babbled at her.

“You get the next two,” he said, taking a sip of her coffee before making a face.

“Drink your own, Drake!”

“How do your teeth not fall out? It’s so sweet.” He made a face still before grabbing the other mug. He sighed after a few long sips.

“Are you chugging your coffee like a beer?”

“I have to rinse the taste of that outta my mouth somehow.”

“Yet every morning you end up drinking some of mine…”

“In my defense, I’m not awake.”

She nodded and rolled her eyes.

“I saw that!”

“Saw what? What is daddy even talking about?” she smiled at Henry and got a wide smile in return. He was a generally happy baby. They’d lucked out.

“Don’t listen to mommy.”

Henry ignored them both and Trina got down from the bar stool carefully and made whooshing noises. He went crazy giggling as she pretended to fly him around the kitchen.

“Cheater,” Sam said, drinking his coffee with a smirk. Still shirtless. Such a tease.

“Here we go, little man…” She went into the living room where most of his toys were spread out on the floor along with a mat. She set him down on his back and almost instantly he rolled over and went for his little rainbow colored piano.

Trina sat beside him and eventually Sam joined her, handing her the mug. He sipped at his own and she leaned into his shoulder as she drank hers.

“We’ve got a pretty good thing going on here, don’t we?” he asked, tilting to look at her.

“Yeah, yeah, we do.”

“Oh, Nathan invited us all to dinner tonight. His place.”

Afternoon

He carefully closed the door to the nursey and crept back down the hall. It had taken longer than expected to get Henry down for his nap. He pushed the bedroom door closed with a foot and stripped off his t-shirt before it even clicked shut.

Sam shook his head. How did I get so fucking lucky?

Trina had already beaten him to the punch and was laying on their bed, naked, face down with her elbows propping her up. The little smirk on her face was the icing on the cake.

“Babe…”

“I know,” she said, sitting up on her knees and reaching for his belt.

Fuck…

Dinner

Nate and Elena’s

They all sat around the kitchen table, the boys each a few beers in, Trina and Elena halfway through a bottle of wine. Dishes were piled on the kitchen counter. Henry was zonked out in his stroller, pacifier in his mouth and covered with a blanket.

“… and now I’m pretty sure I’m banned for life,” Nathan said.

“I did tell you not to punch him,” Elena said with a smirk.

“He started it!”

“Knowing you… I’m agreeing with Elena on this one.”

“Wha—Sam, you gonna weigh in on this?” the younger Drake asked.

“Who—ah ah ah, nah, I’m too old to sleep on the couch at night. You’re on your own, little brother.”

“Traitor.”

“He always such a sore loser?” Trina asked her sister-in-law.

“Oh, this is nothing.”

“Hey! I can hear you, ya know?” Nate protested from across the table.

Sam however, laughed, resting his right hand on her thigh. She put her left hand on top of his, rubbing circles with her thumb.

“That’s half the fun of it,” Elena added. “Don’t worry, I still love you. Despite your many, many flaws.”

“Okay, okay… this is officially the last time I’m inviting any of you over here,” Nate sighed, reaching for another beer.

Elena scoffed. “Hey, I live here.”

“Fine, fine, you can stay. You two though… I’ve got my eye on you.”

Sam feigned surprise as he reached for his own beer and Trina’s hand moved over to rub his thigh under the table. She watched him struggle for a moment before regaining composure.

“I mean, we should probably be heading home soon anyways. Little guy likes to get up early in the morning. Not sure where he got that from…”

“Not me, jailbird.”

“Ha ha, funny.”

She leaned over and kissed him deeply. She could smell alcohol mixed with his cigarettes and his aftershave. The stubble rubbed against her skin and she couldn’t help but smile. She loved him so much it hurt.

“Hey there are children present here!”

She felt Sam move a bit and had a feeling that her husband was flipping off his brother. It wouldn’t be the first time.

They parted and she saw his smirk. He had some grand plans for them, she knew it by that glint in his eyes. Her dirty-minded husband. To be fair, it was never just Sam. She was almost as bad. Almost.

“Oh, that reminds me—one of the local morning shows wanted to do a quick interview about the Libertalia book coming out. Do you think you could take it?” Elena asked, looking at her.

“Sure, we could do that.”

“Do we have to?”

She raised an eyebrow at him and he sighed.

“We’ll handle it. Just send me the details, okay?”

She hugged Elena and then Nate before grabbing her purse. Sam grabbed the stroller and pushed it toward the front door.

The night was a bit chilly compared to when they’d left their house but it was pleasant. One of the best parts about the house they chose was the proximity to family. It was only a few streets over, a great distance for a short walk, and much easier than loading Henry in and out of his car seat now that he was older.

They walked side-by-side, her fingers hooked through one of his belt loops.

“So needy,” he teased.

“Who? Me? Nah.”

“Says the little minx feeling me up under the table.”

“Hmm, don’t think I remember that. Must’ve been another wife.”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

They turned the last corner to their street.

“You have your phone?”

“Yeah… I think so.” He stopped the stroller and patted his pockets. “Huh.”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.”

He shook his head. “I’m not.”

Trina sighed and opened her purse. She went to call him but the screen wasn’t responsive. Then it flashed the dead battery symbol. She groaned.

“Dead?”

“Yup.”

“Probably in Nathan’s kitchen. I was showing him that picture of Henry from the other day.”

“I’ll see you at home in a few. Okay?” She kissed his cheek.

“It could… and she’s already gone, isn’t she, bud? No worries…” Sam’s voice trailed off behind her.

She put a hand on the side of her purse out of habit and headed back toward Nate’s. She took a shortcut through a narrow alley and was about to step out into the main street under a light when she felt a gun barrel pressed to her back.

“Gimme your bag,” the male voice hissed.

Trina raised her hands slowly. “Could… could you lower the gun?”

“Bag, bitch.”

“Okay…”

Using one hand she lifted the strap over her head, the purse strung across her body. She kept her free hand in the air.

“Here… take it. I don’t want any trouble…”

Trina held it out and the thug moved into her line of sight. He had a ski mask on and a large handgun held in his right hand.

“Rings too.” He gestured the gun toward her hand.

“Just… just take my purse. There’s cash… just—“

The gun smashed into her head, blinding her momentarily.

She stumbled back into the brick house, her head striking there. Her right hand came away from the back of her head covered in blood. She stared at it before a punch to her gut stole her air.

Bent over, she didn’t see the next blow until she crumpled onto the alleyway, her head bleeding out as her eyes closed.

Sam…

Chapter Text

“C’mon, Trina… where are you?”

Sam paced the foyer. It had been half an hour already. She should’ve been back, even if she stopped to chat with Nathan and Elena for a few minutes.

“Fuck it.”

He eased Henry out of his crib and carried him downstairs. He squirmed a bit, but settled back down in the stroller easily enough. He said a silent prayer, the Catholic upbringing automatic, and hit the street, almost running to his brother’s house. He couldn’t shake the bad feeling deep in his gut.

Not even five minutes later, he was knocking on the door. “Nathan? Trina? Elena? Someone?”

A light flicked on and his brother opened the front door slowly.

“Sam? What are you doing here? You forget something?”

“Trina, where’s Trina?”

He brushed past his brother, dragging the stroller in as well. “Trina?”

He cut through the living room and kitchen and there was no sign of her. The lights were turned low.

“Sam, what are you talking about? She’s not here.”

“Who’s not here?” Elena called, coming down the stairs.

“Trina… she…”

He flipped on the kitchen lights and sure enough, there was his phone lying facedown on the counter. He picked it up and checked. No calls or messages.

“Your phone? You left it here?” Nate asked.

“Trina… she was coming back for it. It’s been almost an hour.”

“An hour?” Elena looked worried. “But you’re—“

“I—I thought Nathan here was talking her ear off. You know how he gets.”

“Call her?” his brother suggested.

Sam paced in front of the couch. “No, no. Her phone…it’s dead. That’s why she came back—we couldn’t call.”

“And it couldn’t wait until morning?”

He glared at his brother.

“Okay, okay! I get it! Your wife is super scary.”

“Before you start throwing punches,” Elena suggested, stepping between them. “Why don’t you both go look for her? I’ll watch Henry. If she turns up here, I’ll call you. She might just be lost.”

“Lost? Really? This is Trina we’re talking about here.”

“Just take a breath. Getting worked up doesn’t help her. Breathe, Sam.”

He closed his eyes and took an exaggerated breath. She sighed and crossed her arms.

“Okay, we’ll split up. I’ll go left, you go right,” his brother suggested, making sure he had his own phone.

“Yeah. Okay.”

Trina, where are you? Babe, please…

The flashlight in his phone wasn’t half bad but it was nothing like his usual flashlight. There wasn’t exactly time for him to go up to the attic and retrieve it with Sam freaking out. Which, he could hardly blame his brother for. He’d do the same for Elena.

He swept the light low on the ground, looking for anything. Any sort of trail.

Nate tried to remember what she’d been wearing but it was blank in his mind. Sam would know. He seriously hoped it didn’t come to that. His brother would not be able to handle making a missing person report. Actually anything involving police wouldn’t go well.  

“C’mon, where are you, Trina?”

He turned a corner and noticed an alley. There were plenty of those in the city, usually used for parking or storing trash cans, and it was possible she took one as a shortcut. Nothing extraordinary in the first one.

He went further over and spotted another.

Nate made it about two steps before he froze. His flashlight reflected the blood. Wet blood. Fresh blood.

“No, no, no, no…”

He crouched down and swung the light further ahead.

Lying crumpled in a pool of blood, not moving, was Trina. She was crumpled on the ground, blood flowing from her head and mixed in her hair.

He dialed Sam’s number as he knelt down to check her pulse. Weak, but alive.

“Trina?” Sam answered, and he could hear the undisguised panic in his older brother’s voice.

“Sam, you need to come quick. We’re in an alley. It’s Trina. She’s in bad shape.”

The call ended and he took a breath before calling 911, still keeping a finger on her neck, checking her pulse still. No change. A good sign.

“Hang in there, help’s coming…”

“Trina!”

“Sam! Over here!” he called as the 911 operator came on line. “Hi, I need an ambulance right now. My sister-in-law… I think she was mugged. She’s not conscious. Pulse is weak. There’s blood… yes, Nathan Drake. Hurry.”

Hospital

Trina was hooked up to lots of monitors and her head was layered in bandages. She looked tiny and frail in the hospital bed. Her normal clothes were replaced by a hospital gown that was ridiculously oversized on her. She still was unconscious even though it had been a few hours now.

Sam squeezed her hand all the same.

“Oh good, Mr. Drake, you’re already here,” a white coated doctor said, stepping into the room with an iPad in hand.

“I’m not leaving her.”

“Well, the good news is her scans are coming back clean. No hemorrhaging or damage we can see. She should wake up on her own. She did take a nasty hit and lose a lot of blood. She’ll likely have some short-term memory loss and confusion. All to be expected.”

“What did they do to her?”

“A blow to the front of her head and another on the back of it. No fractures.”

“So… a mugging?”

“Most likely. I already gave my statement to the police. They would like to talk to you.”

“Not until she wakes up.” Please wake up, baby. I need you to wake up. This is my fault. All my fault.

“Mr. Drake—“

He didn’t even bother to look at the doctor anymore. “I’m not leaving her alone.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll let them know to come in here to talk to you.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them.”

The doctor sighed. “Mr. Drake, they just want to find whoever did this to your wife. Nothing else matters.”

“I don’t wanna talk to them. I’ve nothing to say. I wasn’t there.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I should’ve been there.” Please, baby. Please…

There was a knock on the open doorway as two officers entered. “Samuel Drake?”

“Now’s not a good time,” he said, not looking up from her. She was so pale. So still. Lifeless.

“Listen, we need to finish this report. We can’t find whoever did this without more information,” a different man said.

“Look, officer, I’m not an idiot. It’s New Orleans. She was mugged. You’re not actually looking to find the guy, you just need to push some paperwork that will end up in the bottom of a drawer somewhere. I’m worried about her, not her purse or her phone… it doesn’t matter. What matters is I almost lost my wife tonight. So, I really don’t care what you write down,” he snapped, fixing a glare on the two men. Officers Dumb and Dumber.

“Mr. Drake, this won’t just be a mugging investigation. It’s attempted murder and aggravated assault.”

He let out a laugh. “Oh, I see… you looked in your little computer there and you figured out that hey, we have money, so now you’ll do a cursory look for the publicity and in hopes we make a donation to the policeman’s ball or whatever as a show of our thanks. Well, guess what… you’re not getting a penny out of us—“

“Sam…”

“I mean—“

“Sam.”

He looked over and sure enough, it was his wife. She was awake. Trina was awake.

“Hey, baby, oh… I’ve been scared shitless that you weren’t—“

She squeezed his hand. “Hen—ry?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine. Nathan and Elena have him. Oh, babe.”

“Mrs. Drake? Can we ask you a few questions? About your attack?”

“Attack?” Her voice was rough and hoarse, her face confused.

“You went back for my phone… after Nathan’s. Do you remember?”

She shook her head, then winched and touched the bandage.

“Easy, easy, you got hit in the head pretty bad. Had to get a few stitches,” he said softly.

“Purse… my…”

He frowned, watching her struggle with her words.

“Rings…”

He rubbed her left hand. “They’re still here. On your hand.”

Sam watched her stare at her hand and wiggle her fingers.

“Mrs. Drake, is there anything you remember you can tell us?” the officer tried again.

“She just woke up. We’re not playing twenty questions,” he growled, still holding her hand. “Baby, I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe now. Henry’s safe.”

“Mr. Drake, time is—“

“Leave. Now.” It was taking every last measure of self-control to keep from bodily removing them from the room. If he wasn’t holding onto her, he would’ve. Besides, when was the last time the police had ever actually been helpful?

“Ah, there you are.”

For once in his life, Sam was actually grateful for Victor Sullivan. He didn’t know what magic Nathan had worked, and he didn’t really care. He was great at manipulating people and naturally charming. Sam himself was too stressed to care at the moment. His only priority was Trina.

“Hi, Victor Sullivan… why don’t we go talk in the hall? I’ll help fill you in. She’s been through a lot and so has my son—he’s just very, very stressed right now. He can be a right dick.”

There was an uneasy half laugh, but the cops followed him out in the hall, Sullivan pulling the door closed behind him.

“Sam, what…?” she asked, looking at him. She looked scared.

He shifted to sit next to her on the bed, his arms around her gently, leaning her against his chest. So she could listen to his heartbeat. Similar to how they slept at night. She nestled in, wincing a bit as she tried to find a good position.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “We had dinner at Nate’s. On the way home you asked me about my phone. Yours was dead and you went back to grab mine. You didn’t come home. So I went back there with Henry but you didn’t make it there.”

“My head… someone hit me?”

He nodded, holding her close. “That’s what we think. Your purse was gone.”

“Mugged.”

“Yeah, probably. I should’ve gone with you—“

“No… not you… your fault…”

“Ssh, rest. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She rubbed her head against his chest in agreement and he heard the change in her breathing as she went back to sleep, her hand curled into his shirt, holding on.

Thank God you’re alive. Oh, baby, I thought I lost you there…

The door opened slowly and Victor stepped in alone.

“How’s our girl?”

“Scattered. Confused. At least she’s alive.”

“They scan her head?”

Sam nodded. “Nothing out of the ordinary. No bleeds. Probable concussion.”

“She asleep?”

“Yeah, she’s…”

“Exhausted?” the older man suggested.

“Very. I almost lost her, Victor. I…I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

He dragged a chair over and sat down. “It might’ve been worse if you had been. What if this guy had a gun? You think her watching you get shot would’ve been better?”

“But I’d have been there.”

The other man frowned. “You didn’t attack her.”

“It was a message.”

“A message?”

Sam sighed. “A few days ago, I started getting these notes. Threats.”

“Jesus, Sam…”

“I mean, it happens every now and then. Nothing’s ever happened but Trina… people try and take advantage and extort her.”

“Naturally. She’s been linked to Rafe.”

“So it’s not unusual. But these… they were addressed to me. About returning something I stole. I tossed ‘em. But there’s… this feeling I can’t shake. I got one a few days ago. Trina… she doesn’t know.”

“You boys need to work on your communication skills. Seriously.”    

“I know, I know.” He sighed again. “I found another in the mail yesterday. Said that if I continued to ignore him, he’d hurt her. I… something like ‘her blood will be on your hands’. My hands. I don’t… I burned it like the other one.”

Victor shook his head. “You need to tell her. Any idea who’d be threatening you?”

“C’mon, how long’ve we known each other, now?  Twenty years or so?”

“Or so.”

“I…I’ve done shit. I can’t pretend otherwise. I’m not a saint. It could be anyone. They’re so vague.”

“But they are specifically threatening Katrina?”

“Yeah. There’s only her. Her and Henry. But for them to find her last night? Someone followed us. They followed us, probably to Nate’s and home. They must’ve pounced on her the moment we separated. It’s the only way. She’d have made it to his place.”

“It could just be a mugging. The cops… there’s been a string lately. Young women alone. Mugged, sometimes knocked out. Not always. At least one had a gun. It might be bad luck.”

“You don’t think it’s bad luck.”

“No, I don’t,” he admitted. “The odds… no. I agree. Someone’s targeting you, Samuel. And they’re going after her to get to you. You need to tell her.”

She stirred on his chest, groaning. He rubbed her back gently, trying to get her to settle down and keep sleeping.

“Sam?”

“Right here, babe.”

“Tell… tell me what?”

Chapter Text

“I’m gonna give you guys some time. I’ll be at Nate’s. Call me if either of you need anything.”

“Mmm, hi, Sully…” she said, still hovering between awake and asleep. Her head throbbed still.

“Take it easy, darling’,” he said with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Victor. For coming.”

“’Course. I’ll see you both soon. Rest.”

Sully pulled the door closed behind him, leaving them alone with the beeping machines.

“What… what did you need to tell me?”

She glanced up at her husband and saw a guilty look on his face immediately. “Sam?”

“Victor and I put our heads together. I got a few vague threats in the mail. Didn’t think much of them.”

“Threats?”

Her husband nodded. “Nothing specific, more ‘return what you stole or else’. But not signed.”

“So… I was attacked as a… warning?”

“Maybe.”

“What did you steal?”

“That’s the problem,” he sighed. “I’ve stolen so many things, worked with so many people… I have no idea what it could be.”

“Have they threatened Henry?”

“No. Only you. Like ‘she’ll pay’. Only name used is mine. Just Samuel. Not Sam. Not Samuel Drake. Just Samuel.”

“You need to figure this out. Now.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’m not letting you out of my sight until I find the bastard.”

“And Henry?”

“Nathan Fort Knoxed his house. Elena’s been sending me regular pictures. Wanna see?”

She nodded, shifting into a more comfortable position as he dug out his phone. Sure enough, Elena had been blowing up his phone for ages. Henry asleep. Henry drinking a bottle. Mid-burp. Nate holding him like he might be a bomb. Elena holding him as he snoozed. Nate making goofy faces at him.

Clearly safe and spoiled. There was even a Sully cameo with Henry grabbing at his mustache.

Trina took a deep breath, relaxing. “He’s having a blast.”

“Yeah… I think if Elena has her way, Henry’ll have a little cousin in about another nine months or so.”

“Oh God, that’s terrifying.”

“Elena being pregnant?” Sam asked with a frown.

“No, Nate being a dad.”

He smiled. “I hope that kid is at least half as much trouble as Nathan was. He was so… punchable. And insufferable.”

“So… a Drake?”

“Hey!”

“Baby, we’ll get through this. You and me. We’ll figure it out.”

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Because I know you. I trust you. I love you. And you and me, we make a pretty good team.”

Nate and Elena’s

Late Afternoon

“How are you?” her sister-in-law asked with a concerned look as she picked up her son from the floor.

“Tired. Sore. Better.”

Henry babbled happily in her arms. She kissed his cheek and sat down on the couch, Sam right at her side.

“Well, we had a good time. Sully’s taking a nap. Henry wore him out.”

“He does have that effect,” Sam muttered. “Don’t ya, kiddo?”

The pride in his voice warmed her heart. Sam had great instincts with their son and loved him deeply.

Elena smiled. “I’m glad you’re doing better. We were all worried.”

Trina nodded. “Me too. It’s good to be out of there. I was going stir crazy.”

“Anything you need, we’re here. I mean it. Even if you just want to go take a nap and want someone watching this little munchkin.”

“Thanks.”

She held her son tight. It had been a very close call. If Nate hadn’t found her when he did, she might not have held her son again. She’d come very close to bleeding out in that alley according to the doctor who had tried to get her to stay longer for observation. But she’d spent enough time in hospitals. She wanted to be at home in her own bed with her husband and son.

She looked at her husband. Sam wasn’t at fault, though she knew he was tearing himself down. Neither of them were at fault. It was whoever was coming after her family. They were to blame.

They’d figure it out. They always did. She trusted him. Together, they were unstoppable.

“Seriously, thank you, Elena,” Sam said. “And Nathan. He at the marina?”

Elena nodded. “Yeah, he wanted to be here, but you know… work called…”

“Yeah. Look, we’ll get out of your hair for now. Someone is supposed to be resting…”

“I’m sitting on the couch. That’s resting, right?”

He sighed and she shot him a grin.

“You… you’re killing me, Mrs. Drake.”

“You love it.” She kissed his cheek. “Let’s go home. I’m sure someone else should also take a nap.”

Henry grinned up at her with his few baby teeth and her heart warmed.

Sam and Trina’s

Later

He sat behind the wheel of his car, watching Samuel Drake help his wife into the house. They also had the stroller with the kid.

Only a small bandage remained around her head. He honestly didn’t think he hit her that hard. She just had to fight back. He shouldn’t have been surprised—she was married to Samuel after all.

Not that any of it mattered. Samuel would get another little reminder soon. It was time to turn the screws.

He thumbed through the contents of her purse. Various things for the kid. A tube of red lipstick. A few earrings and a necklace or two tucked into zipped pockets. They all looked real. An old hospital bracelet dated over six months ago, her name printed on it, was tucked in with the jewelry.

There was a small notebook with scribbled notes and reminders—including contributions from his one-time partner. Samuel’s handwriting stuck out against her curled cursive script.

A black leather wallet with cash and cards—all in Katrina Drake’s name. At least two of the cards were fancy black ones reserved for rich people. There was about a grand in bills as well – mostly $20s and some smaller bills. Who carried cash these days?

Tucked inside the wallet were a few photos. One was of her and Sam kissing—probably a wedding photo. One was of Samuel and his brother together. And one was of her, Samuel, and the baby.

Random trinkets, but very telling. The bag was well worn leather without any obvious branding, but the inside lining revealed a designer label. It didn’t match the image of Katrina Adler, the wealthy socialite who “lost” her husband then appeared on Samuel Drake’s arm. There was no trail showing when she first hooked up with the thief.

The woman photographed with the deceased businessman Rafe Adler wasn’t the woman he followed. It certainly wasn’t the woman he encountered in the alley. No, this version was happy and carefree with no sense of image. She had condoms tossed in her purse and an older phone with a few cracks in the screen that was currently dead. A jumble of house and car keys on a chain with a “D” hanging from it, the metal hardware tarnished.

No, she was almost as elusive as her husband. Almost.

Not that it mattered. Katrina Drake wouldn’t be alive for much longer if Samuel didn’t cooperate. Then, he’d deal with the kid.

He watched the upstairs lights turn on. It was almost too easy, surveilling them. Samuel Drake had gone soft when he became a family man.

Vengeance would be sweet. He’d get what he came for and destroy his old partner at the same time. A real win-win.

He folded her ID into a typed letter and stuffed it inside an envelope. He’d give them a few days. Let their guard go down again. Then it would be time for the next step. Another push. A reminder. A promise.

He’d get what he’d came for, one way or another. And Samuel Drake would lose.

Chapter Text

Sam crawled into their bed and she turned on her side to look at him. He’d been trying to be quiet. Which, had she been asleep, might have worked.

“Hi.”

“Hey, you’re still awake.”

”Yeah.” She snuggled close to him, her head on his chest. Their usual sleeping positions

He kissed the top of her head. “He’s out cold. No fuss.”

“Wish I was out cold,” she muttered.

“Your head bothering you again?”

“A little.”

“Hmm.”

Sam stroked her hair. She leaned into his touch. It had been several days and the pain still lingered. Normally she felt better after a day or two. Or at least it had before when Rafe knocked her around.

“Any idea what he’s looking for?”

“No, still just dead ends. I guess it’s something important to him and not something super high value. Still, drawing blanks.”

She sighed. “We’ll figure it out. We always do,”

“Yeah… I guess.”

“It’s you and me, Drake. Ride or die.”

“I know. I just hate that someone hurt you.”

“I know.” She kissed his chest. “You didn't know. I mean, it’s so vague.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh.

“I guess… what would be something you’d take… because you wanted it? If he thinks you still have it, it wouldn’t necessarily be a big score. It just has to mean something to you.”

“Like?”

“The St. Dismas cross. I know it’s after but it was an Avery artifact. Was there anything else Avery-related you stole?”

“Only from Rafe so not much pre-Panama.”

“Ok… something for Nate?”

“Only got him some Drake mementos. Like the ring… which is long gone in the desert.”

“How did you get Sir Francis’ ring?”

“Stole it. Well, helped Nate steal it. I did a lot of legwork on that one. The actual theft was all Nathan. That’s how he met Victor—they were both after the same thing. We had a lot of Drake stuff at one point. Journals. Letters. Maps.”

“Was there anything stolen where Nate wasn’t involved?”

“Maybe. A journal. Some documents. But any of that stuff–Nathan would have it, not me. The only things I kept were stored in a safe deposit box. Which wasn’t paid once I was dead. So it’s long gone.”

“How many partners?”

“Half a dozen, maybe.”

“Start there.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, when you’re feeling better. You’ve been hit in the head a lot lately.”

“I mean, Rafe wasn’t exactly great about not throwing me around like a rag doll. Asav and his little band didn’t help. I mean… you’ve been hit a lot—“

“Eh, I’m used to it. I think Nathan always was short a few marbles so if anything it’s made him more stubborn. You were out a long time. Might need a scan or something.”

She shook her head a bit, nuzzling in closer. “Later, maybe. We have an interview tomorrow.”

“We do?”

“Yeah, Elena set it up, remember?”

“…uh…”

Trina sighed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Maybe?”

“No worries. I’ve got talking points and Sully is watching Henry.”

“Wait… Victor is watching our son?”

“Nate’s on a dive and Elena’s got her show. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

“Might just kill Victor.”

“He’s not that old!”

Backstage

Samuel Drake watched as they fussed over Trina at the makeup table. She was radiant, his wife, with her red-gold hair half pinned up while the rest tumbled down her shoulders in curls. She’d put on a dark green top that made her eyes pop. She had the emerald earrings in that matched her engagement ring.

He’d never get sick of looking at her. He only loved her more each day. Especially when he noticed more and more of her in Henry every day.

She laughed and turned to look at him. He smirked as she beamed at him.

I’m one lucky bastard…

He sipped at his coffee as they powered her face again.

She slipped down from the chair and onto her feet, her legs encased in black pants that ended in heeled boots. This was the Trina he’d first met—a gorgeous creature that was polished and way, way out of his league. It wasn’t often that he saw her like that anymore—the demure socialite who was there to look pretty on her husband’s arm.

“Hey.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Ready?”

“Do I have to?”

His wife rolled her eyes. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. You just need to sit there, look pretty, and be yourself.”

“Look pretty?”

She sighed. “Look handsome and hotter than hell?”

“Better.”

“Plus I found a quiet little spot for later…”

“Oh? You’re a dirty one, Mrs. Drake…” he teased.

“I have a very, very sexy husband who seems to enjoy that. Plus… Henry’s with Sully so we have a bit of time…”

“Uh huh.” He pulled her close, his coffee abandoned in favor of holding her with his arms around her back.

“You know… just in case…”

“That why the fuck me boots are out?”

“Oh… are they?” She had a very innocent look on her face but her hand on his belt was anything but. You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear. But, damn, I’ll die a happy man…

“You—“

“Katrina? Samuel? Time to get you miked up,” a young woman in black with a headset and clipboard said.

“Wonderful,” his wife said, spinning around to give him a minute to compose himself. And to not so subtly pinch her ass.

The host, a middle-aged blonde with a set of cue cards in hand, went from half-awake to a ten-thousand watt smile as the cameras started to roll and they went live.

“Everyone is talking about pirates right now. No, not the Caribbean type! A legendary pirate utopia called Libertalia was recently discovered near Madagascar. Apparently several pirates pooled their resources and built their own society before greed ended it. Joining me today are Samuel and Katrina Drake, part of the team that located the ruins and the treasure within!”

There were lots of cheers from the mostly female audience as they stepped out onto the set together, hands interlaced. Sam followed her lead even though she knew he wanted to turn tail and run away.

They sat on the couch, Sam first, and then her practically in his lap. He held onto her hand like a lifeline. She squeezed it, getting a nervous glance in return. She counted the birds on his neck and smiled back, watching him relax a bit. He was still a bit pale, almost the same color as his white undershirt. His plaid button-up shirt was in a nice blue that matched his birds. It was one of her favorites.

“Now,” the host continued, “I’m not much of a history buff but I watched part of the Uncovering Paradise documentary and flipped through the book as well. I’ve heard of Blackbeard but never Henry Avery. Who was he?”

“Umm, Henry Avery was fairly notorious mainly for the Gunsway heist in the 1695. It was worth about 400 million dollars. He was the most wanted man in the world at the time. He founded Libertalia along with Thomas Tew,” Sam said and she could see the spark in his eyes.

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Yeah… yeah.”

“One thing that surprised me was the two of you. I was not expecting such a hot romance in the middle of this whole documentary. How much of that is real?”

“Umm, all of it,” he said hesitantly. “I—we didn’t have a conventional relationship. Like at all.”

“Is that true, Katrina?” the host asked.

“We…we fell in love looking for Henry Avery’s fortune. I mean, he was fresh out of prison at the time we met. But I got to see his passion for history and it intrigued me. We spent a lot of hours together studying clues and maps. It didn’t seem possible… a pirate utopia? Come on, it sounds so impossible! But then we were in Madagascar and there it was. Just how they left it,” she said.

“And this is before the documentary?”

“Yes, yes, we discovered it then we went back to do a recovery, which is what was captured on film. It took us a few weeks to actually gather everything. A segment of the mountain collapsed and buried the treasure in the sea. Plus we had to document the colony as well.”

“So,” the host said, leaning forward in her seat. “When exactly did you two fall in love? Was it an immediate kind of love at first sight?”

Sam laughed and they shared a look. “Trina… she was an ice queen at first. I mean, look, I did thirteen years in a Panamanian jail. I did not smell fresh like a daisy.”

There were a few laughs and twitters from the crowd.

The memory made her smile. “I’m pretty sure those clothes stood up even when you weren’t wearing them.”

“Yeah… it wasn’t pretty. Not her—she was gorgeous from day one. I mean…” He gestured toward her and she blushed as there were some whistles and hoots from the audience.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Drake,” she teased. “That cocky charm works for you.”

“Ye—wait a minute—“ He frowned and she tried not to laugh.

“It got steamy fast. I’ll say that much. We got married shortly before the expedition. We basically went straight from our honeymoon back to Libertalia. But I mean, it’s a real paradise,” Trina said, pointing toward the screen between them and the host which was sharing aerial footage of the island.

"It certainly is! What was your favorite find?"

"Besides Sam?"

That got hoots and hollers from the women in the audience as Sam’s cheeks flushed red and he lowered his head. She smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"If I had to pick one, it would be the bust of Henry Avery. It was in the very last crate we recovered and I got to open it."

"My favorite is her," Sam added.

The collective “aww”s from the audience made her blush now.

"Aren't they the cutest? Uncovering Paradise is available now on most streaming platforms and the companion book releases a week from today."

"Both of which wouldn't have been possible without my incredibly talented sister-in-law, Elena Fisher. She's the 'F' in D&F Fortunes who ran the recovery of the treasure. We wouldn’t be sitting here right now without her work."

"And," Sam added. "The 'D' is for my little brother, Nathan Drake."

"Oh, Sam…"

"What? Oh, damnit…"

She kissed him. "Don't worry, I still love you."

"Thank you, Katrina and Samuel Drake for joining us!"

Backstage

Lips crashed into lips as they slipped back into the dressing room, the door locked. Sam peeled off his outer shirt as he pressed her up against the wall. She moaned, her arms around his neck, as he kissed along her cheek and down her neck to the tops of her breasts, pushed up to the neckline of her top by her bra.

She lifted her arms and he yanked the green shirt over her head. She tugged on his undershirt and it joined hers on the floor as she reached for his belt.

“Trin…”

She kissed him again, her body pressed against him. Needy. Just as much as him, maybe even more.

“Ah, fuck it…”

He lifted her, wrapping those legs around his waist as he lifted her up and carried her to the little loveseat against the wall.

She moaned and he started to lose himself in the moment. In the absolute treasure that was the love of his life. His wife. His everything.

Chapter Text

One Week Later

It didn’t take long before the next threat arrived in the mail. In fact, he was a bit surprised it had been this quick. Then again time was all a bit of a blur after Trina’s hospital stay. He barely slept anymore. He’d lay awake at night watching her sleep. Or watching Henry. Someone had to protect them. He’d already failed his wife once.

Holding the envelope, with just his name typed on it like the others, he headed into the kitchen, his smoke break forgotten.

“Hey, Trin…”

“Yeah?” She looked up toward him from the living room where she was on the floor with Henry. She was wearing one of his shirts, only a few buttons closed, with a pair of jeans. Her hair was tied up and even without a hint of makeup, he was still struck by her. His son, meanwhile, was entranced by his toys and completely blind to the tension in the air.

“I gotta—we got another letter.”

She frowned. “In the mail?”

“Mixed in the stack.”

His wife got up from the floor to join him, curiosity on her face rather than fear.. “Well, what’s it say?”

He tore it open and almost dropped the card inside on the floor. Sam caught it and froze.

In his hand was her driver’s license. The old one, the one that had been in her wallet. And it had dried blood on it. Her blood.

The mugging wasn’t random. It was an attack. An attack on his family. And it had nearly cost him his wife. His son nearly lost his mother.

And it was all because of him. Because of something he did and then forgot all about. Because being a thief mattered more than the consequences. Because he couldn’t see past his own selfish needs.

And it nearly cost him everything.

“Sam?” She touched his arm gently and he seemed to shake off his trance.

“Trin—“

“What? What’s it say?”

He extended a trembling hand and she got a look at the card in his hand. Her ID.

No wonder you look like a ghost…

She rubbed his back. “I’m here, Sam. I’m right here. Hey…”

“They… you… you were the target…”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She touched his cheek. “I’m right here. Sam…”

“You almost weren’t.”

Trina took a breath. “But I’m here. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere without a fight. I promise. It’s you and me, Drake. Always.”

“Always.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Yeah… Was there a letter or anything?”

“Uh… yeah…”

She took the typed paper from him. He was almost as pale as the page clutched in his hand.

“Samuel, I’m disappointed in you,” she read aloud. “I warned you. And still you ignore me. Perhaps you’ll finally realize how serious I am. Soon you’ll have to choose. Return the journal or you’ll have to bury someone you love. Question is…will it be your wife or your son?”

She found herself gasping for air. Shattered.

It was one thing to threaten her life. To threaten Sam. But their son? Their innocent son? That was way too far.

“Trin, babe…”

She looked up at her husband. The love of her life. “Henry… they…”

He shook his head, pulling her into his chest. “I won’t let that happen. No one will touch him. I don’t care what it takes. No one hurts him. Or you. I won’t let them.”

“What do they want from us?”

“I don’t know. I don’t. But we’ll figure it out. I promise. I promise…”

From his vantage point across the street, he saw the Drakes embrace. Both of them seemed shaken. Good. Maybe this time they’d wise up and do what he said.

He didn’t relish threatening an infant, but Samuel Drake seemed to only understand violence. He needed motivation and nearly losing his wife didn’t seem to be enough. No, they’d already settled back into quiet domesticity.

It didn’t fit with the Samuel Drake he knew.

But there were many ways to force him to play along. He could easily step it up a notch or two.

One way or another, he was getting that treasure. Drake would either play along and cooperate, or he’d enjoy killing everyone Samuel loved. And he had quite the circle now beside his wife and kid—the younger brother, the reporter sister-in-law, and the crotchety Victor Sullivan. So much to lose.

And he badly wanted Samuel Drake to lose.

Two Weeks Later

Pulling the door closed behind him, Sam Drake flicked his worn lighter to start the cigarette in his mouth. He took a long drag before exhaling. Leaning against the porch, he surveyed the street like always. No one seemed to be eying his house or watching them. All the cars seemed familiar enough.

It had been almost a month since Trina was attacked. There had only been one note since. Frankly, he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, especially with all the promo stuff for the documentary and the book.

He hated doing the publicity stops. Trina always looked natural—like she’d been born for the spotlight and here he was, some poor shlub that looked like he should be on a warning sign, not standing beside her. “A basement dwelling troll” was how one person put it.

Which wasn’t far off from “long-term horny prison inmate”, which did suit him. And the fact that he had a hard time keeping hands off her only reinforced it.

But no one was bothering them. He just couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

About halfway done with his cigarette and while he was contemplating a second one to settle his nerves, an unfamiliar car pulled up in front of his house. Sam was instantly alert and grateful that he’d taken to carrying a gun again.

A blonde with large sunglasses stepped out and looked directly at him, then waved.

“No way,” he muttered, cigarette still in his mouth.

She approached the house very casually with a warm smile. Before he could stutter out words, she kissed him deeply on the lips, cigarette and all.

As the shock wore off and he could move, he backed up on the porch, almost crashing into the siding.

“What… how…?” he tripped over his words, completely off-guard.

“Samuel… it’s been too long…”

Chapter Text

“Sara… what… why are you in New Orleans?”

And here. At my house.

“To see you of course!”

She took off the sunglasses and he looked into those brown eyes he used to know so well. The years had barely touched her. It was eerie in a way. Like she’d been frozen while time marched on. Even her fitted dress could’ve easily been one she wore on the beach back then.

“I’m not tryin’ to be rude… but why? I thought you’d sworn off crossing the border…”

“I spent all these years thinking you were dead. So many contacts confirmed your death. Then, suddenly, the name ‘Henry Avery’ is all over and I immediately think of you. You had a lead on a cross, the last time I saw you. I figured it was your brother, but then I saw you. Alive.”

She put a hand on his cheek and he pulled away. “Yeah, Panamanian jail was pretty much like being dead.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, a hurt look in her eyes.

“Ah… I’m just—I can’t believe you’re here… on my porch… while my son is asleep and my wife—“

“Oh, that’s who was on TV? The redhead? I thought that was Nathan’s wife?’

“No, no… Elena is Nathan’s wife and she kept her name. Trina—the redhead—is my wife. Katrina Drake.”

“You? Married?” Sara let out a laugh.

He held up his left hand, his wedding band easy to see. He rarely took it off. He didn’t need to.

“Wow. The forever bachelor, Samuel Drake, got married. I never thought I’d see the day. Are you pranking me?”

“No, no… very much married and happy. We… we have a son now. I swear, he’s gonna be runnin’ cons before he can walk!”

She nodded, but the smile on her face seemed strained.

“So…tell me all about you! What has Sara Stevens been up to? Conquer the world recently?”

“Oh, not too much. Odd jobs now and then, but mostly legit. Well, more legit than normal. I still keep in touch with some of the old gang. Don’t worry—I haven’t told them you’re alive. I half thought I’d come here and it wouldn’t be you.”

“It is me. Me, Sam Drake, treasure hunter.”

“And your… wife lets you do that?” Sara asked, one eyebrow raised.

He frowned. “She goes with me. We’re a team.”

“Uh huh.”

He took a breath. “You… you should meet her.”

He opened the front door, cigarette forgotten. “Trin? Babe?”

She stepped into the foyer, barefoot in shorts and a t-shirt, her curly hair up and away from her face. Trina had a dishtowel in hand. “Yeah?”

“I want you to meet someone. An old friend.”

Sam stepped aside as Sara entered the house, her high heels clicking on the tile flooring.

The dish or glass his wife had been holding dropped, then shattered into pieces all over the floor.

“Hey, hey, don’t—“

Trina yelped, a shard cutting into her foot as she bent down to clean the floor.

“… move. I gotcha.”

Glass crunched as Sam made his way to her side. He scooped her up and onto the kitchen island away from the mess. She couldn’t help but let out a whimpering sound. Her foot throbbed. She was pretty sure she could feel the blood dripping onto the floor.

“Stay. I’ll get the first aid kit and clean this up—“ her husband started, only to be cut off by the blonde bimbo standing in her house.

“Let me help,” the other woman said. “First aid kit… hallway bathroom?”

“Yeah, under the sink,” he said.

She watched as Sam grabbed the dust pan and broom to sweep up as much as he could. It wasn’t the first time she’d broken something in his presence. She still remembered the wine glass back in Scotland. The first time she really admitted to herself that he was attractive.

It was a lifetime ago now. She wasn’t the same person she’d been back then.

“Babe, I’m gonna get that tweezed out, just hold on—wanna get a bunch of this cleared first…”

“It’s deep… ow!”

Sam reached up and steadied her before she could tumble off the island. “Trina…”

She put a hand over his, reading the worry on his face. The fear. “I know. I know, it just really hurts.”

He looked down. “We might need to get stitches—call Elena? See if she can watch Henry?”

She whimpered, but nodded, taking her phone from her front pocket as Sam steadied her. Her rock, as always.

“Hey, do you think you could come watch the baby?” she asked after Elena picked up. “I dropped a glass and someone thinks I need st-oww!-itches.”

“Sure, I’ll be right over,” her sister-in-law said, sounding excited.

“Thanks!” She ended the call and looked at her husband and his furrowed brow. “She’s on her way. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic. You’re bleeding a lot. I don’t wanna risk yanking that glass out here.”

“You’re sure a fussy—“

“Got the kit!” Sara proclaimed, a bit out of breath as she returned, raising the kit up. Eager, like a child seeking praise.

“Thanks, Sara. I’m gonna take her in for stitches just in case. Can we do lunch soon? How long are you in town?”

The blonde bimbo’s face fell. Good. “Oh, I get it. Yeah, let’s do that. What’s your cell?”

Later

Hotel

Sara reclined across the bed and fired off a few texts. It had been a few hours now. Surely Sam had time to check his phone by now.

She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting after all this time, but it wasn’t that.  The Samuel she knew and loved would’ve been sweeping her off her feet, not that rich bitch. And the way he kept saying “wife” was enough to make her almost lose her lunch.

Katrina Fucking Drake. It was more of a wrinkle than she anticipated. She’d thought the lovey dovey act was all for the cameras. To get at her fortune. It’s not like it was hard to connect her to Rafe Adler.

But before Rafe Adler, Katrina didn’t really exist.

Which, considering she’d introduced Sam to Rafe to help back his search for Henry Avery, she couldn’t help but wonder how the redheaded bitch had inserted herself into the lives of both men. What were the odds?

What made her special? What made men fall for her? She wasn’t stunningly pretty. She wasn’t rich before Rafe. She could see Sam using her for the money, but why not go ahead and take the money and kill the bitch? Was there a pre-nup?

She’d seen the autopsy. Which someone—likely the bitch—had tried to bury. Rafe Adler hadn’t been crushed to death. He’d been stabbed multiple time by a sharp bladed instrument. The crush injuries were AFTER his death. She just wasn’t sure who had done it—Sam or the bitch? Had they planned to swindle Rafe out of his fortune?

To be fair, Rafe Adler was an asshole. He was selfish. Had an ego the size of a small country. More money than God.

At the end of the day, he was still family.

Her phone dinged and a new text popped up.

Sara smiled. Sam wanted to meet her tomorrow. Alone.

She turned onto her back and let out a happy sigh. She was close. So close to regaining her life. And her love.

She just had to get rid of Katrina first.

Sam and Trina’s House

As he fluffed up the pillows under her bandaged foot, Trina sighed. He’d been right and she’d required seven stitches to close up the gash in her foot. Now she could barely get around without assistance due to where the shard had pierced her skin.

“That better?” he asked, frowning.

“I can’t really feel anything right now with all the painkillers.”

“Good. I mean… I don’t know…”

“Sam, you know I love you, right?”

“Yeah? But?”

“You’ve never mentioned her before. Not even once. Who is she?”

“Who… Sara?”

She nodded.

He sighed as he laid back on the bed beside her. “She’s the past. We were off and on over a few years, more off than on. I haven’t thought about her since the early days of Panama.”

“You didn’t even ask about her when we first met. Only Nate.”

Her husband nodded. “Yeah… she was pissed about the plan. We fought. She told me not to come back. So… I didn’t.”

“Then why is she here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Should I be worried?”

He frowned. “Worried?”

“Are you sure she didn’t—“

“Wait… you don’t think she—“

“I don’t know. I didn’t even know she existed this morning!”

“Because she was the past! We… that was a long time ago!”

“Didn’t look like the past to her. I half expected her to unzip your pants in the foyer.”

“Oh? You really want to go there?” he growled.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Try me.”

“Do you have any idea how much it fucking hurt me to see you with him? I wanted to poke my fucking eyes out at times!” He was practically spitting at her across the bed.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because as crazy as it was, I love you. I loved you then. I love you now! You drive me abso-fucking-lutly insane, Trin, but I wouldn’t trade our life together for anything!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She looked at him, at her other half. Studied him. He was almost spitting mad in a way, but he wasn’t lying. She knew how to read him better than most. He wasn’t lying. This Sara didn’t mean anything to him.

Maybe she had once. But not now.

Trina leaned up to kiss him and that was all it took. Hungry lips, almost devouring each other, hands tugging at clothes, and her pillow stack destroyed as they rolled across the sheets.

Seventeen Years Ago

Panama

Sara paced the hotel room. They should’ve been back by now. It was supposed to be a quick in and out. Rafe had sworn it was all arranged. That it was safe.

She heard the key in the door and looked up.

“Sam?” she called, running across to rip open the door—only it wasn’t Sam outside the door.

“Hey Sara.”

“Rafe? Where’s Sam? Sam?” she called, peering around him. Sam was taller of course, but she couldn’t see any sign of him.

“Sara… you should sit down.”

“No… no… you said it was easy! You promised! You promised he’d be fine!”

She slapped him and then beat her fists against his chest. He eventually grabbed her wrists and she collapsed into a sobbing mess against his shirt, her anger burned out and replaced by sadness and grief.

“You promised…”

“I know. I know.” His voice was soft.

“Sam… my Sam…”

“He’s gone, Sara.”

“No… no…”

“There was no time.”

She looked up at him, tears streaked down her cheeks. “You swore it was safe. Nathan was supposed to die, not him. Not Sam!”

“I know. Vargas turned on us. I had to improvise.”

“Improvise? All you had to do was break into a prison cell, find whatever Burns hid there, and come back. Come back with Sam…”

Sobs wracked her body and she had to sit on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t see him through her tears.

“Look, I’m not thrilled either. Nathan is a liability. I only let him tag along because Samuel insisted we needed him.”

“Did you?”

Rafe sighed. “I don’t know. The fucking cross was empty.”

“Empty? So you went through this entire disaster for nothing?”

She saw the rage flash across his face. “It wasn’t like I planned this!”

“But you did! This… this was all your plan. For fuck’s sake, how hard is it follow simple directions? It’s not like they’re identical!”

“Look, I hate Nathan just as much as you do. But you and I both know Samuel doesn’t like to leave him behind.”

She stomped across the room and opened the nightstand drawer. Reaching for the handgun, she checked the clip, put on the safety, and tucked it into the holster on her belt. “Where is Nate Drake?”

“Woah, woah. You can’t go running around halfcocked and killing him.”

“Why not? He’s the reason Sam is dead, right?”

“He’s the only other one who knows Avery. We don’t have a choice. We still need him.”

“The minute we don’t, I’m putting a bullet in Nate’s head.”

“Of course, I’ll even load the gun for you.”

“I’m holding you to that promise, Rafe.”

Chapter Text

Present

New Orleans

He sat up in his car as the carefully placed microphone picked up a conversation from the balcony, where Sam Drake stood, a cigarette in one hand, his cell phone in the other.

“Hey, little brother. We have a problem.”

“What kind?” Nathan Drake sounded distant from the other end of the phone but his voice was clear.

“The Sara Stevens kind.”

“Who?”

Sam sighed. “My ex. From before Panama.”

“Oh, the crazy blonde!”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“So… what’s the problem?”

“She’s here. In New Orleans.”

He heard one of them take a deep breath.

“Oh. Well, shit.”

He watched Samuel nod his head. “Yeah. She came by the house.”

“Is that why Elena went flying over?”

“Yeah, sorta. Trina dropped something and stepped on it…needed seven stitches.”

“Shit, man.”

Samuel took a long drag of his cigarette. “Listen, Nate… I need help with this. I don’t know why she’s here and my gut is twisted. She wants to meet me.”

“Let me guess—secret love child?”

“That’s not funny.”

“Is to me,” Nate said.

“Look, I want you to go with me. Trina’s in no shape. Victor won’t be back for two more weeks. I just want her to go away. Can you help?”

“Sure. But if I’m right, you owe me.”

“I’ll text you.”

The call ended and Samuel stubbed out his cigarette.

Back in the car he sent a text message of his own. His partner was not going to be pleased with the most recently development. They would need to speed up the timeline.

Five Years Ago

Scotland

“So, who is she again?” Sara Stevens asked, a wine glass in hand on the terrace as she glanced down at the party below.

In an off-white dress and curly red-gold hair, she was the clear center of attention and everyone kept gaping at the massive rock on her left hand.

“Katrina Devon. She’s an only child, orphaned in the last few years, college-educated of course, and honestly perfect for my needs.”

“What an odd name.”

“She’s not a gold digger, not likely to cheat, alone with no family or close friends. Pretty and well-mannered.”

“Again, sounds so incredibly romantic,” Sara said, taking a long sip.

“Not everyone needs romance.”

“Clearly.” She turned away from the forgettable girl. “Oh well, it’s your funeral.”

“Sara—“

“Just sayin’…”

“We can’t all be obsessed with a dead man,” Rafe hissed, his temper razor-thin as usual.

“Nathan is the one who should be dead, not Samuel.”

“But he is. You need to move on.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you’re young, reasonably attractive, and comfortable financially. You could easily find someone better.”

She scoffed in his direction. “I did that, remember? And all I got was stood up.”

“Look, you need to back off the Drake train.”

“Why?  You’re still hunting Avery. You stop, I’ll stop.”

“You’re pining for a dead man.”

“And you’re after a very dead man’s treasure. Not very different.”

“Mine at least can happen.”

“You know what? Fine, hunt your stupid pirate, Rafe. I don’t care. I hope you enjoy your life, your whore fiancée, and the taste of defeat.”

Present

New Orleans

From the hallway, he watched Henry climb into Trina’s lap, her foot propped on some pillows on the floor. She held him gently as he babbled at her, her shirt balled in his chubby fist.

It felt wrong to be leaving them. To go see his ex when his life was here, literally in front of him, his wife and his son. Who he’d almost lost before. Not just to Asav and his gun-toting idiots. He was lucky that Trina pulled through. That the emergency C-section had saved Henry. But it nearly killed her.

He remembered standing there, holding her hand, as she bled out and the machines went crazy. Of being forced aside as they wheeled her away. Of nearly losing them both at once. The absolute fear. Every day with them was a blessing. Trina had given him a second chance at life. At love. She made their house a home.

There was no one else he’d rather have at his side. His partner. His other half.

Sam bent down to kiss her cheek and Henry squealed happily. “I’ll be back soon I hope. Elena should be here any minute.”

She looked up at him with those sparkling emerald eyes. “Already?”

“Yeah, it’s already noon.”

Trina nodded then stretched up to give him a deep kiss. “Love you.”

“Love ya more,” he said with a smile and then gave his son a serious of loud noise kisses that had him squealing in delight. “Mwah! Be good, Stinker.”

He heard the front door open.

“Hey! I’m here!” Elena called from the foyer.

“That’s my cue. See you soon.” He pressed another quick kiss to the top of her head before heading for the front door.

“You good?” Elena asked softly in the foyer.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be good. Just… thanks for coming. I didn’t wanna—“

“You’re family, Sam. Me, Nate, and Sully—we’re all here for you both. Always.”

“Yeah, it just… I’m not used to it. It’s weird.”

She nodded. “Nate’s got the Jeep running outside. Don’t worry about us girls. I’m always happy to spend time with my adorable nephew.”

“Well, I’m sure Henry will be happy to have someone else to climb on.”

She gave him a reassuring half-hug before heading toward the kitchen, calling out for Henry. He stood in the foyer, hesitating for a long beat, before he stepped outside and locked the door up with his key outside.

Sure enough, Nate was idling at the curb in his Jeep. He opened the passenger door and hopped up inside. The roof was off but the doors were there, making it feel very much like the rental from Madagascar but better.  It was still mud-splattered but that was his brother to a T. It had a stupidly expensive winch on the front end too.

“Hey little brother.”

“Hey. How’s things?”

“Good, I guess. Trina’s getting around pretty good on her foot but I’m so glad Elena could come hang out.”

“Always,” Nate said, putting the vehicle into gear and pulling away from the curb. “You know, she keeps mentioning when we should have our own kid?”

Sam let out a small laugh. “Oh, boy.”

“It seems crazy. I mean… how could I ever be a dad? I mean, look at our stellar example…”

“Nah, he wasn’t a father, Nate. Neither was I. Now, Victor… that’s an example you could follow, minus the whole umm ‘life of crime’ track, I guess.”

“How do you do it?”

“Do what?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Be… be a dad. Like, how do you know you’re not gonna screw him up?”

He snorted. “Oh, little brother, boy do you have a lot to learn. It’s not a matter of if I’ll screw up, it’s a matter of when. No one’s perfect. I mean shit, we swiped something for Sullivan a few weeks ago. I know, I know, who takes a baby on a job?”

“Besides you? No one.”

“Ha ha,” Sam mocked. “It’s like this—I love the shit out of that kid. I never ever thought I’d be here—married. With a kid. With you nearby. Not being in and out of prison. Shit, I didn’t even own a house! But… you figure it out. Because you love the shit out of them and you see yourself and your amazing wife in them. You love them so much you forget to breathe. And you know you’ll fuck it up but when you do, you’ll do your best. Because if you’re worried about screwing up, you’re miles ahead of most.”

Nate nodded as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. “So as long as I’m worried—“

“Then you’ll be less of a fuck up.”

“Thanks, Sam. For the record, you did alright as a big brother. Just… needed a little less of whole prison time part…”

“Ha ha. Funny.”

“I try.”

They headed inside and toward the back he could see Sara at a table in a very tight fitting dress and her blonde hair pin straight. A face full of makeup. Pretty much the complete opposite of his wife. Night and day.

“Well, she aged like shit,” Nate muttered.

He tried to hold back the snort but failed miserably.

“Samuel! And… Nathan,” she said, the enthusiasm dying as she said his brother’s name. It was almost like ice.

“Hey, hope you don’t mind me crashing,” Nate said. “Thought it’d be nice to catch up. Like the old days.”

“Yeah, just like old times. I’m so glad you had time for me, Sam.”

He sat down across from her, Nathan to his right. “I still can’t believe you came all the way to New Orleans.”

“Well, some news is best done in person.”

“Uh huh. So… what did you want to talk about?”

She reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope. “This.”

He took the paper sized manila envelope. “What’s this? You suing me?”

“Not exactly.”

Five Years Ago

South America

Rafe sighed over the other end of the phone. “Spit it out, Sara. What’s going on?”

“John is asking about his father again.”

“And?”

“He wants to call Nathan.”

“So?”

“I don’t want Nate Drake anywhere near him. He’s the reason Sam died.”

“Sis, you need to get over it. He’s dead. Move on. There’s a lot of better men out there. C’mon, he’s be a shitty father if he lived.”

“I just… I want John to know his dad, but I can’t… I won’t deal with Nathan Drake.”

“I’ll tell John no.”

“Could you?”

“Of course. I’ve always got you. No matter what. You don’t need any Drakes. You have me.”

Present

New Orleans

Sam frowned. “Can you repeat that? I don’t think—“

“We have a son. He’s sixteen and he’d love to meet you.”

“I… that’s not possible…”

She opened the envelope for him and slid out the photos inside. Of a boy. And paperwork. Report cards? Birth certificate? There was so much he had no idea where to look. Where to start.

This can’t be real…

“I found out a few weeks after I heard you died. I pulled back, went more legit. His name is John. Well, Jonathan. Jonathan Drake.”

“I have a son?”

Sara nodded, reaching for his hand across the table. “We have a son.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up,” Nate muttered.

Chapter Text

Sam and Trina’s

“Oh shit.”

Trina straightened up on the couch. She’d been teetering on the edge of sleep ever since Elena arrived. With her injured foot, sleep was almost impossible. And keeping up with Henry required most of her energy on a good day.

“What?” she asked, looking over at her sister-in-law. “Did something happen to Sam?”

“Umm, not exactly.”

“Is he hurt? Is Nate?”

Elena shook her head. “No, nothing like that. Nate just texted me. I don’t know how to…”

“Elena, please. I have to know.”

“So… apparently the reason Sara is in town is because… fuck… she—Sam—her and Sam have a kid.”

She paused for a moment, replaying it in her head. “What? Did you just say that Sam…?”

“…has another kid. Yeah.”

“Motherfucker!”

Trina screamed wordlessly into a couch pillow, also punching it with her fists. This can’t be real. It can’t… no, no, no…

“Trina? You okay?”

She shook her head as she lowered the pillow. “No, not even a little bit.”

“Do you want me to have Nate beat her up?”

“No, no, I don’t want him doing jail time.” She got up, slowly putting weight on her injured foot. “No, this is something I need to handle. I’m not letting her waltz right in and throw my life into pieces. No, no, no. I knew she was up to something but this? A kid? What kind of nut job does that?”

She made it to the kitchen island solo and pulled herself up onto a stool as she reached for the notepad and her phone.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Getting ahead of this.” She dialed a number in her contacts. “Hello, yes, let him know that it’s Katrina Drake. Yes, I’ll hold.”

Upstairs, Henry started crying. “I’ll get him,” Elena said, heading for the stairs before Trina could even react to her son’s cries. “Auntie Lena is coming, big guy.”

She clicked her pen in her hand repeatedly until another voice answered. “Mrs. Drake?”

“Stewart, excellent. Sorry for the urgent call, but I need you to look into someone for me. They’re going by the name Sara Stevens. Late 30s or so. Blonde. A bit taller than me. Currently here in New Orleans but definitely from somewhere a bit more south. Yeah, yeah, I’ll try and dig up a photo. The reason I’m calling is I need to verify something. She is claiming that her kid is Sam’s child. I’ll get the name and details on that. I just need this to be extremely discreet.”

She nodded along to his response, hyper-fixated on the singular fact that her husband might have another child. Henry might have a sibling. Or it was some kind of elaborate hoax. She didn’t know. She needed to know. What good did Rafe’s dirty money do if she couldn’t use it to protect her family?

“Excellent. Yes, just have them drop by. Whatever resources you need, I’m authorizing them. Money is no object. Good. I look forward to your report.”

She ended the call and jotted notes on the pad as Elena returned with a giggling Henry.

“So, what was that all about?” Elena asked.

“Oh, that was to my lawyer. He’s going to get started on a background check and looking for paperwork and other documents. And a DNA test of course. He has a PI on staff we’ve used before.”

“Wait, so you just have a lawyer on retainer?”

“Yes,” Trina said simply. “Someone has to help handle things for the company and us. Plus I want to make sure there’s no way we miss anything. I don’t trust her. This… secret child feels like a bad soap opera. I think there’s more to this.”

“If you have a lawyer and a PI, why don’t you have someone looking into the notes?”

She took a deep breath. “Oh, there’s a team on that. So far, nothing. All they could conclude is that was my actual ID with my blood on it. So it’s definitely still the person who attacked me.”

“Jesus, Trina. What can I do?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered as she looked at her son in Elena’s arms.

Across Town

“A son?”

Sara nodded, a slight smile on her face. “Yeah, a son. And he wants to meet you. It’s why I’m here. I didn’t want to just… spring him on you. He’s got so many questions about who you are and what you’re like… I want him to know his father.”

“Yeah… umm, he’s how old?”

“Sixteen, almost seventeen.”

Sam held up one of the pictures, looking for any resemblance or any recognition. Maybe he’d just know by looking at the kid. But he didn’t feel anything. He didn’t seem himself or Nate in the boy. And certainly not Henry. But it was possible the kid took after Sara.

The main thing was timewise it was possible. They’d been sexually active and even though he tried to be careful, use protection, whatever, it was possible. Shit, Trina had gotten pregnant even on all kinds of stuff.

If it was true—if this was his kid—he had to know. He couldn’t abandon his own son. No, he had to know. He had to know. He had to meet him.

And then figure out how to break the news to Trina.

Sam and Trina’s

“Okay, Sully is on his way back,” Elena said, lowering her phone to shoot out a text.

Trina looked up from the floor, Henry tugging at her shirt and waving a toy in his hand. More accurately, he was hitting her with the toy but she didn’t care. She was numb. She had been since she hung up the phone. It still didn’t feel real.

“He doesn’t need—“

“Oh, I tried. But you know how he gets. So protective. Hell, I think he is more protective of you than he’s ever been of Nate.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Sully always worried about Nate. And Elena. And Sam to a lesser extent. But the frostiness went both ways with Sully and Sam. But even at their first meeting, Sully had immediately been welcoming and calling her “darlin’” just as affectionately as he did Elena or when he called Nate “kid”.

“You look really pale, Trina.”

“I… can you take Henry for a moment?”

“Sure. Hey, kiddo, woosh!” Elena said, picking him up and swinging him in the air as he giggled.

Trina hobbled to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She looked up in the mirror. Elena hadn’t been kidding about the paleness. She looked almost dead. She felt like it too.

How is this happening?

She knew Sam. If there was even a slight chance this was real—that this kid could be his—he would want them in their lives. And she’d let him. Because no matter what, she loved Sam. She trusted him. She knew he would be an involved father. And Henry would have a sibling. There was no way she would ever make him choose between his kids.

They both had a past. Hell, she’d been married.

But she loved him so much she couldn’t imagine him not being at her side. No matter what. Even if he had a dozen kids with a dozen different women, she would be there. She would always be there.

Sam was her other half. The love of her life.

Three Years Ago

Scotland

She felt his eyes on her.

Rafe grunted, slamming her against the desk roughly as she dug her fingers into his shirt to help support herself. Her cheek already stung from his earlier slap and she knew there would be bruises on her thighs from his rough grip.

Sam stood just outside the open office door. She could see pain and worry etched on his face.

Her eyes teared up. She would give anything for it to be Sam instead. She felt safe in his arms. He’d never hurt her. Not like this. Not like Rafe.

Rafe gripped her chin and pushed her back toward the desk. She wasn’t quick enough to keep her face from hitting the edge of the desk. Her version swam and she slowly reached up to touch her forehead and her fingers came away with her own blood.

She laid there, frozen, her skirt pushed up around her hips in Rafe’s office. She tried to sit up.

“Useless bitch,” Rafe muttered as he zipped up his pants and left in a huff.

The tears escaped one-by-one. The pain slowly sinking in as she looked at her own blood on her fingers.

“Hey, hey, baby,” Sam’s voice soothed her and she felt his hands on her, helping support her into a sitting position. She even felt him brush her skirt back down.

With a sob, she buried her face into his shirt and he held her, rubbing her back and making those soothing whispers he did so well. She didn’t need to say anything. And neither did he. He never did. She just knew. She could feel it in the air. In the gentleness of his touch.

She knew as long as she was in Sam’s arms, she was safe. He was her home. Her protector. Her other half. No matter what Rafe did, he wouldn’t break her. Not completely. Not as long as she had Sam.

When they were together it didn’t matter that she was married to another man. It didn’t matter that he was a thief. They were simply together. Their pasts didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered. It never would. Not as long as they had each other.

Present

Sam and Trina’s

Sam Drake hopped out of the Jeep before his brother managed to put it in park. He unlocked the door with surprising ease, not really slowing down. He needed to see her. He needed to tell her.

“Trina?!”

He rushed into the kitchen, pausing to avoid nearly mowing down his sister-in-law.

“Sam?”

He turned toward the living room, where Trina stood up from the couch, wobbling a bit like a baby doe balancing on spindly legs. Her eyes were puffy already.

He pulled her into his arms, rubbing her back, and whispering in her ears over and over again that he loved her. That they’d get through this together.

Her tears wet his shirt where she’d rested her head.

As full on sobs wracked his wife’s body, he guided them both to the couch where she curled up in his arms. Sam held her close and kissed the top of her head.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he whispered.

“It’s true?”

“I don’t know.”

He stroked her hair, trying his best to soothe her. It always hurt him to see her in pain. Especially since this time it was all his fault. If he hadn’t been involved in the documentary or the book or any of the other Libertalia pieces Elena spearheaded, Sara wouldn’t have appeared. And he’d never heard he had another kid.

Which tore at his heart. He knew what it was like to be thrown away by a deadbeat dad. He’d never wish that pain on anyone except maybe Rafe. But at the same time he hated the pain it caused Trina. Just as much as he hated watching her with Rafe.

If this was his son, Sara would be back in his life. In their life.

For once, Sam didn’t have a plan. He had no idea what to do and his instincts screamed at him to take his family and run. Run far away. For Henry. For Trina. For himself.

It was bad enough that some old partner was threatening them. Sara on top of that was just too much to bear. Too much stress.

But for now, what he could do was comfort his wife.

Evening

Another chess piece was in motion on the board.

He smirked as he watched a defeated looking Samuel smoking on the front porch. Good. It was time for him to be punished. He deserved it. Traitor. Thief.

He couldn’t wait to destroy him and his little family. He could almost taste the sweetness of victory.

It was almost time now. Just a few more days. A few more moves on the board.

Samuel Drake would pay.

Chapter Text

A Few Days Later

Across the kitchen counter from her, Sam winced as he peeled off the band-aid from his arm. In order to confirm the identity of his supposed “son”, Trina had asked for bloodwork in addition to the traditional swab/spit that many ancestral DNA places offered. She wanted zero doubt about his heritage.

Trina knew Sam would never be as skeptical as she was. She was used to people conning her. And she wasn’t about to let Sara take advantage of her husband. Of his caring nature. His love for family.

“Whatcha daydreaming about, Trin?”

She shook her head slightly as she focused on him. “Hmm? Just… drifted off.”

“You should go rest. Get off that foot some.”

“It barely hurts. Plus Henry will be awake soon…”

He pulled her into his arms. “I can certainly look after our son for a bit while you rest. You’re pushing yourself too much, babe.”

“Someone has to.”

“Go sleep. Please. I’m worried about you.”

She looked up into his face, into those worried eyes. A look she knew well.

Her hand rested on his cheek. “We’ve been through worse, right?”

“Mmm. More than once.” He kissed her hand. “We’ll get through it. Always.”

“Together?”

“Just you and me, babe.”

~

Three Years Earlier

Scotland

As the sun sank on the horizon, Rafe kicked a box of papers. Another day wasted. Another useless clue. Another pointless errand out at the church.

And where was his expert? Samuel no longer seemed interested in the hunt. His research was just dead ends, one after another, it seemed. Completely worthless. Much like the man. Every step closer to Avery set them back several paces somewhere else.

He was beginning to think the entire treasure was a lie.

His phone rang and he picked it up after glancing at the ID.

“What?” he snapped.

“You seriously need some anger management, bro.”

“What do you want this time, Sara? I already increased your allowance.”

“When were you planning on telling me that Sam was alive?”

His fist crashed into the table. “Fuck.”

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’.”

“He owes me the treasure. Once I have it, you can do whatever the hell you want with him. But not a second before Avery’s treasure is mine.”

“Then I guess you know he’s entertaining your wife. Or at least someone who looks a hell of a lot like her.”

“Sara, I don’t have time for this. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.”

~

Present

Hotel

Sara opened her laptop and entered a passcode. It wasn’t long until she could pull up the feed from Sam’s house. No one had noticed it so far. Perfect.

The quality was surprisingly clear.

And there he was. Her Sam. He pulled a t-shirt off and she had the perfect view to take him in. He was just as in shape as she remembered, maybe even more so. She remembered the playing cards on his shoulder well and the star on his chest. The birds on his neck were new. The three scars on his lower abdomen were new as well.

Sam crossed the room, just in his jeans, and then the bitch came into view as he sat her on the bed.

Her fingers curled into fists as Sam rolled them across the bed, the redhead on top of him. She knew that smirk on his face well.

She recognized his moves, too. Very little had changed in their time apart. He was a bit older with new scars but he was still Samuel Drake. The only problem was that bitch. She’d destroyed her half-brother and inherited his fortune—destroying her own.

The moment Rafe’s death was confirmed, the money stopped. Not a single penny hit her account. She’d been so removed from knowledge that she read about his death on social media.

She didn’t exist. And that was all Katrina Drake’s fault.

It was enough to kill Rafe. To take the money she needed to raise her son. But taking Samuel? That was too far.

Katrina Drake needed to die.

~

Sam and Trina’s

Two Days Later

Henry was already tucked in his crib for the night when she finished clearing the table from dinner. Sam had taken the bedtime routine for Henry instead of dish duty.

Rotating chores worked for them. She rinsed the plates and added them to the half-full dishwasher stacked with bits and pieces of bottles. How one tiny baby generated 80% of all the laundry and dishes would always amaze her. It seemed never ending. But she loved her son. No matter how much trouble he was.

Trina wiped the counters with a sigh before emptying the near to overflowing trash. Sam liked to push it as long as possible even when it started to or broke the trash bag. It had to be a male trait since apparently Nate did it too. Or maybe just a male Drake trait.

She tied the bag closed, unlocked the back door, and then headed to the trash cans around the side of the house. It wasn’t that heavy but she could definitely smell those diapers.

Trina took a deep breath after the bag disappeared into the can. “Yes, one mess down…”

She turned back to the house, closing and locking the sturdy door behind her.

“Next task–laundry,” she mused out loud, heading toward the utility room. She didn’t see the shadowy figure creeping behind her silently. 

She started tossing some of Sam’s in, bending down into the basket.

Then she felt the gun against her spine and a gloved hand across her mouth.

“Not a fucking sound,” he hissed. “C’mon, don’t fight me unless you’d rather die right here, right now.”

She gave a bit of a nod, not fighting even as her instincts screamed for her to struggle, to fight–anything to try and get away. To get to Sam. To protect Henry.

He pushed her along into the dining room. A chair was already pulled out from the head of the table.

“Now, sit. No sounds or I will shoot you before he can get to you. Then I’ll kill Samuel. And then that baby of yours.”

She squeezed her eyes closed as she sat, trying to hold the tears back. The stranger used zip-ties to secure her wrists behind her back. There was one at each elbow that attached her to the chair arms. He tightened one at each ankle to help keep her affixed to the chair. There was no way she could get away. She could see the other chair across the mahogany table, cuffs ready. Ready for Sam.

Don’t make Henry an orphan, please… take me. Not Sam. Not my son…

“Trin? You still down there?”

She bit her lip at her husband’s voice. She looked to her captor for a cue. He gave her a subtle nod before coming to her side and placing the gun to her head.

“He runs, you die,” he breathed.

“Yeah, in the dining room,” she called, trying to keep her voice from wavering.

“Whew, he did not want to go down tonight…” Sam muttered as he came down the stairs and around the corner. His voice trailed off as she came into view.

“You really do have a beautiful family, Samuel.”

She tried to jerk her head away from him. Her captor grabbed her chin, forcing her still. Where Sam could see her but she couldn’t see him.

“Such a pretty one. You could do much better than him.”

As he examined her like a toy, she spit in his face.

He paused briefly to wipe the spit. Before she could react, he punched her in the face. The force whacked her head against the wall of the dining room.

~

The man in black hit her before he could react. As he watched her eyes go heavy. “Trina? Trina!”

He was almost to her when the gun turned toward him. He paused, hands up. No, no, no…

“Babe… baby, say something. Anything,” he begged. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. Not here. Not now.

“Well, you took that like a champ. Impressive,” the man sneered. With his face mask on, Sam still couldn’t place him. He felt the weight of his gun at the small of his back. But it was too risky to pull it. Not with Trina moments from blacking out. Not while the man was so close to her.

“Sam…”

“Right here, I’m right here. Okay? I’m right here.”

Helpless. Unable to reach her side. To protect her. He’d failed.

“Hen… ry…?” Her voice was cracked and weak. She was fighting. Fighting so hard. And he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save her. She was not more than a few feet from her and still he was helpless. Useless.

Hands still up, he focused on her. “He’s safe, sweetie. Hey, don’t go to sleep yet. Baby, I need you to wake up.”

She groaned, her eyes barely open a slant.

A second hit and her head drooped as she slipped into unconsciousness.

“TRINA!”

He tackled the man before he could react, the gun skittering across the wooden floor. “You don’t touch her!”

Sam got a good right hook in. Quick. Devastating.

With a kick at the torso, he reeled backward and pulled his gun at the same time their attacker regained his. As he started to get up, still aiming the gun, the other man backed toward the stairs.

“Your choice, Samuel. Your wife or your son. You see, I could very easily get to him. Before you can even reach me. Sure, you might get off a few lucky shots, maybe you wing me. But are you willing to bet his life on it?”

Sam glanced to his left, at Trina’s limp form slumped in a chair, only upright from the zipties. She wouldn’t be able to go for help. She could be out for minutes or for hours.

“Tick tock, Samuel.”

“You don’t touch them—either of them.”

“Sit,” the man ordered, clicking off the safety, gun aimed toward Trina. Toward him. “Put that gun done and sit your ass in that chair, Drake. Do it or she never wakes up again.”

He glanced to his right, to the waiting chair, already ready with looped zip ties. This man wasn’t taking any chances. He’d planned this. And somehow this man had managed to break into their home. Into their safe space. And he’d been helpless to protect her.

He couldn’t risk Henry. He couldn’t.

 “Okay, okay… just… lower the gun…” Sam lifted his hands and let the gun’s trigger guard swing around his finger before placing it on the table. 

“Sit,” the man repeated. “Do the cuffs. Now.”

Sam sank into the chair and did the restraints on his left side–leg, elbow, and wrist. “You hurt either of them again and I’ll fucking end you.”

“Ah, Samuel… as overconfident as usual.”

“Fuck you.”

The stranger clicked the safety back on before approaching Sam. He pulled the cuffs tight before securing Sam’s right arm. He tried not to flinch. Not to show any emotion except for the boiling hatred he carried in this moment.

“Sam?”

“Hey, hey, yeah, right here, Trin…” he said softly, sending her a sad smile.

“What… what do you want?”

The words were stilted but coherent. She should still be out cold. Unless she’d developed a resistance thanks to Rafe’s treatment. She was a fighter after all.

“Speak up, sweetheart,” the man asked, tightening the last restraint and tucking Sam’s gun into his waistband.

“What do you want?” his wife tried again. “Money?”

He chuckled. “You should really asking your husband that, Mrs. Drake.”

“You… you sent the notes?” she guessed.

“Guilty.” He sighed and took off his mask, standing in the middle of them, gun in hand. “Remember me now, Samuel?”

Chapter Text

“I’ll be damned. Ben fucking White. You’re supposed to be dead,” her husband said.

“And so are you. Dead in Panama after starting a riot. Killed a guard, was it?”

“Warden actually, but I didn’t do it. Got framed by a sleazy ass partner. Which, if I remember correctly… you tried to pull that shit on me before.”

“Only after you double-crossed me. Got those Francis Drake documents you were obsessed with. Which… you stole.”

“That’s what you want? That folio? I don’t have it, Ben. I don’t have anything of Drake’s. Okay? Now, put the gun down and untie my wife and we can all forget this happened. Huh?”

“No, no, Samuel. I know who you are. It wasn’t hard to figure out that Nathan Drake, who found El Dorado, was the younger brother of one Samuel Drake. It’s a small world, Samuel, especially on the antiquities side. I’m sure Sullivan could elaborate on that.”

“Nathan isn’t involved and neither is my wife. Let her go. Now.”

Ben scoffed and walked toward Trina. “She’s involved because of you. You’re a slimy son of a bitch, but one thing I’ve learned by watching you is that she is your weakness. Leverage. You’ll do anything to protect her. Right?”

“Put the gun down,” Sam hissed.

“No, I don’t think I will. You know why?”

“Enlighten me.”

The gun barrel pressed against her heart. “If I pull the trigger, she’s dead before anyone tries to call for help. There’s nothing you could do but watch her die.”

“Put the gun down.”

“Where’s the folio? The journal? Samuel, I’m running out of patience…”

“Hurt her again and you’ll get nothing from me.”

The man called Ben nodded his head. “Maybe I should elaborate. I don’t think you’re understanding the situation you’re in. Perhaps… if I shoot you, she’ll tell me. Right sweetheart? You’d tell me, wouldn’t you? To protect him.”

The gun barrel forced her head up, tears in her eyes. “No… no, please no…”

“Let’s see… maybe I’ll just shoot his knee. For starters. What do you think?”

“I don’t know what you’re looking for. I don’t know any Francis Drake. Please… please don’t do this… please…”

Ben sighed, lowering the gun. “So we need to do this the hard way. I was really hoping it didn’t have to come down to this. I really hate getting my hands dirty. That was always your area of expertise, Samuel.”

She struggled to look at her husband. To see his face. She could hear the pain and fear in his voice. She wanted it to stop. She wanted it all to stop.

Portobelo

20 Years Ago

Sam Drake studied his bloody knuckles. He hadn’t expected resistance at the dig site. No one was supposed to be there. At least that wasn’t what Ben told him.

I really need to start carrying a gun on shit like this…

They were so close to the coordinates. So close to the discovery of a lifetime. Sir Francis Drake. In the (decomposed) flesh. This was where all the notes and charts and records had led. But they weren’t the only ones hunting Drake. There were plenty of pirates and other unsavory folk following the same trail.

Shit, even his kid brother was hunting Drake.

Of course, Drake was one of the few historical figures either brother concerned themselves with. Their mother had researched him for years. It was her work that had them closing in finally.

He just hated his current partner. Not that it mattered—once the heist was over, he’d disappear for good and link back up with Nathan. Hell, he finally almost had enough for bail money. He just needed a few more days. Then they could finally have Drake’s journal. And with the journal, they could find El Dorado. And, more importantly, the Drake Jewel.

Sam and Trina’s

Present

“I don’t have it.”

“Yes, yes, you do. I know because I saw you. We had it and then suddenly, you were gone.”

“I don’t have it. That wasn’t his journal.”

Ben let out a frustrated sound. “Samuel, I know you have it.”

“You want Sir Francis Drake’s journal, right? Well, guess what… it was a fake. I don’t have it. So fuck you, Ben. I can’t give you something I don’t have.”

“Not from what I heard.”

He could feel her eyes without really seeing her. Her worry. Plus the silence that reminded him she was injured.

“That was over twenty years ago!”

“I’m growing really sick of this game, Samuel. Give me what I want. Then you’ll never hear from me again. You’ll both be free. Your family will be safe. You have my word.”

“You leave my family out of this, Ben.”

“Too late.”

The front door opened.

“Hey, Sam?” Nathan called from the hallway.

Ben put the gun to Trina’s head and she winced. He thumbed off the safety.

“Sam? Trina? Car’s out front… hope I’m not interrupting anything. Hello? Sam! Put some clothes on if you’re not dec—“

Nate froze in the hallway just outside the dining room. “Umm… Sam?”

“Little bit busy, little brother,” Sam said, his voice stronger than he felt.

“Uh huh. So… who’s the guy with the gun?

“An old partner,” Ben said, making an obvious show of the gun held against Trina’s head. “One that he ah… screwed, right Samuel?”

“Nate, get outta here. Take Henry and go,” Sam begged. He might die here tonight but his son had to live.

“No, no, Nathan. Have a seat. Or I kill her.”

Trina squeezed her eyes closed, waiting for the shot. For the end.

“You leave her and Nathan outta this. It’s between you and me. Put that gun on me, not them.”

“Sam, what’s going on?” Nate sounded worried. Scared. Like she felt.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “I stole it. I stole the journal. I stole the folio. They’re both long gone. I don’t have it. Okay? Hurting them doesn’t change that.”

“What journal?”

“Nathan, not now,” he snapped.

“Sam, let me help you…”

“No!”

“Take a seat,” Ben ordered, tossing a pair of zip ties toward Nathan. “Wrists to chair. Try anything heroic and she gets a bullet. Got it?”

Nate picked a chair and secured himself. Ben lowered the gun and stepped away from her to tighten the restraints as Nathan grunted.

“Good. Now that you’re all here, it’s time to own up, Samuel.” Ben holstered his gun and pulled out a knife from a sheath on his belt. It glinted in the light, clearly sharp and clean. “Where is the Drake folio? Where is the journal?”

Nate looked toward him. “Drake journal? You mean—“

“Nathan, stop trying to help. It’s gone. Long, long gone. Besides, it was a forgery. It was a wild goose-chase. It… it sent me in circles. I burned it. It no longer exists,” Sam said.

“And the folio?”

He shook his head. “I don’t remember.”

“Samuel, this is your last chance to answer. You need to stop lying. Now.”

The knife pressed into her throat some and she felt her own blood slowly trickle down her throat. She was too scared to speak, move, or take a deep breath. It wouldn’t take much pressure to cut her throat.

Her eyes flicked toward her husband. She didn’t want him to see this. Not after everything else. Not after all they had been through. It wasn’t supposed to end like this.

“Trina…” his voice wavered. He looked destroyed. Helpless.

She blinked at him, trying to let him know it was okay. It was okay. Henry needed his father. She’d been living on borrowed time for years. No matter what, she would never regret loving Sam Drake. Never. Even if this was how it ended. In their damned dining room while their son slept upstairs.

“You don’t have to do this,” Nate tried. “Look, you can still—“

“Samuel? Where is the folio?”

“I don’t know. Okay? I don’t. Just—“

Ben took the knife from her throat. Just as she took a deep breath, their captor stabbed her with it. Her eyes went wide as she tried to register the pain.

“No! Trina! TRINA!”

She wheezed, struggling to breathe.

“Trina! Trin, baby, look at me. Look at me. Baby, hey, hey… I love you. I love you.”

She coughed, her chest tight. She couldn’t reach her hands around to apply pressure. She couldn’t do anything. Not a damn thing.

Their captor let out a deep sigh and jerked the knife back out of her side. Blood ran from the jagged cut. “I really thought that would work. Either you don’t really love her or you really don’t know.”

She wheezed again. She couldn’t breathe. Sam, oh Sam…

“Please… untie me. Let me save her!”

“No.”

Ben approached her husband with the knife, slowly wiping the blade clean on his jeans. In a blur to her eyes, she watched her husband throw his body to the side, crashing the chair into the man and catching him off guard. Even still tied to the chair, she could hear the wood crack and splinter as they struggled.

“Kick his ass, Sam!” Nathan called.

Trina felt the darkness close in again. So tired… Sam, I’m so tired. I can’t—

She pitched her body to the side, her cheek resting on the floor as her blood spilled out on the floor.

“Trina! Katrina! Stay with me!”

Sam’s face appeared and she felt his hand press against her side. He freed her hands and she used the last of her strength to put her left hand on top of his.

“Trina… no, no, no don’t close your eyes. Baby! Trina!”

Chapter Text

Panama

Seventeen Years Ago

She stretched out on the lounge chair in the sun as she held her cell phone to her ear. Her blonde hair was twisted up and off her neck, a wide brimmed hat helping dispel some of the blazing sun. Her skin had a nice warm toned tan.

“I just want Nathan Drake out of the picture. I don’t care how,” Sara said.

“You really think killing his brother will send him back into your arms?”

“Why wouldn’t it? I’ve always been there for him. He’ll need someone at his side to help with the grief.”

She studied her flawless manicure while Rafe scoffed on the other end of the line. 

“And when that doesn’t work? Then what?”

“It will work. I know Samuel. He tries to put on a brave face but it will devastate him.”

“I still say you’re delusional, sis.”

She narrowed her eyes, annoyed at his smugness. If they were face-to-face, she’d have shaken him. “You don’t understand. You’ve never been in love.”

“This is not love. It’s obsession. He left you, Sara.”

With a shake of her head, she said, “He wouldn’t dare to consider leaving again if I’m pregnant.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Pregnant. Are you pregnant?”

“I could be. If not… it won’t be that hard to get pregnant. He’s terrified about being like his father. He wouldn’t abandon us. Not again.”

Sam and Trina’s

Seventeen Years Later

“It was just a fling. We had fun together but I had my mind on other things. Avery, mainly. Plus I didn’t want to settle down and raise a family. I could barely support me and Nathan. I hadn’t met you. I hadn't seen how much I could care for someone. Maybe it was due to losing a big chunk of my life to prison. Maybe it was because you were meant for me.”

“So why didn’t you tell me about her?”

“I forgot. It wasn’t something I clung to. I mean, look… you know how fixated I get.”

“You couldn’t love anyone else because you loved the hunt,” she guessed and her husband nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, until you. You changed the game. I wasn’t even lookin’ for anything in particular. Then you were standing there in a pretty dress, looking bored, but also listening. Learning.”

“And being a punching bag.”

“Rafe never deserved you. Bastard.”

She kissed his cheek and left her hand on his other cheek. “You won. Found the treasure, got the girl…”

Sam pulled her into his lap. “Married the girl, did a great job knocking her up, got a kid…”

“Got a house. Reunited with your brother…”

“Dragged my girl into thievery.”

“Yeah. We’ve got a good life here,” Trina said. “I… I wanted to make sure that–”

“That what?”

“You didn’t still want her. That I wasn’t… a filler. A second choice.”

“Babe, hey, you’re my first choice. Always. The old me makes Sullivan look like a goddamn angel.”

“I bet you were a real bastard back then.”

“Still am. I just happen to have a real fixation on my wife. It’s a bit of a problem.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, she’s just so damn gorgeous and wears too many clothes…”

“I’m listening,” she said, slowly pulling off her top, straddling his waist, his shirt long gone.

“And is gonna be the death of me with how needy she is. Always wanting sex…”

“What a shame.”

“Totally. Absolutely exhausting. Can’t even take a decent shower alone.”

“What about an indecent one?”

Hospital

Present

“Sam.”

At Nathan’s voice, he stopped mid-pace in the waiting room. He’d barely stopped moving since they wheeled her back for surgery. Another surgery. At the same hospital Henry had been born in. And again, they refused to let him stay at her side.

“Elena brought you some clothes. The house is still a crime scene.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, ok… later…”

“Sam.”

“What? I said later—“

“Sam,” his brother repeated, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re covered in blood.”

“Trina… it’s Trina’s blood…”

He looked down at his hands. At his wedding ring. Dry blood all over his hands and arms. From desperately trying to keep the blood inside her. To help her fight. To survive. Everything he did to save her might not be enough.

There had just been too much blood. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t fix her. He failed.

“Hey, hey. You’ve been through worse. She’s strong. So are you.”

“I can’t… she has to—“

“I know. I know.”

“I can’t bury her, Nathan, I can’t. I won’t.”

His younger brother nodded. “I know.”

“I need to find that bastard. And I’m gonna break every bone in his goddamn body. Slowly.”

Nine Months Earlier

“She’s coding!”

“Trina! Trin—“ He pulled her hand into his, squeezing it. It was limp.

“We’ve gotta go now—sir, you need to let go!”

“No, I—“

“If you don’t, they’re both going to die. Let her go and let us do our jobs, Mr. Drake. Let us save them,” the nurse said.

He let her hand slip out of his as the staff rolled her bed from the room, her eyes closed and her body still. He could see the blood on the white sheets covering her lower half. Blood she desperately needed. And their son still waiting to be born.

“Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.  Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen,” he recited by memory, beaten into him by the nuns back at the orphanage. He wasn’t much for prayers, let alone hail Marys, but it was all he could do.

Present

He completed another lap as he heard anxious footsteps. Hoping for a nurse or a doctor, Sam turned toward the noise to find Victor striding his way.

“Samuel.”

“She… they won’t tell me anything…”

“Yeah, I talked to Nate already.”

“I can’t do this, Victor. I can’t lose her. Not like this. Not because of me. I did this to us. Me.”

Sullivan shook his head. “You didn’t. This wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head, still wearing his bloody clothes. He couldn’t risk missing anything. He had to be there, ready to see her. Even if it was only for a moment, he had to be there the instant they’d let him be at her side.

“But it is. He attacked her because of me. Because I love her. I put her in danger, Victor. Her and Henry both. And Nathan—“

He clenched his fists in his hair before almost swinging his arms. Pent up fear and rage battled internally. He’d put them all at risk. God, he was stupid. He should’ve known people would come after him.

“I–I need to…”

“Sam,” Victor said softly, looking at him with fatherly concern.

“No, no, I have to do this. If I don’t—“

“Don’t what?”

“If I don’t find that folio, he’s gonna come back and I can’t protect them. Victor, I can’t protect my family. My son. My wife… I almost lost them all. I can’t be the reason Henry grows up without a mother.”

“She’s not gonna die. We won’t let her. Sam—“

A person in scrubs and a white coat strode their way. “Mr. Drake?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He wiped his hands on his jeans out of habit. God, he needed a cigarette or five.

“I’m sorry—“

“No. No…”

“Her injuries were more extensive than we thought. There was a lot of scar tissue and she lost a lot of blood,” the man said.

“No.”

“Mr. Drake, she’s gone.”

Chapter Text

Sam and Trina’s

Six Hours Earlier

“Trina… no, no, no don’t close your eyes. Baby! Trina!”

Her hand slipped off his, her entire body going limp as she slipped down into unconsciousness. While her warm blood pumped out across them both and the floor. He applied pressure as hard as he could on her stomach, trying to slow it. To keep her alive.

“Sam?”

He didn’t look up at his brother. He couldn’t. All he could do was try to save her.

“Fuck. Yeah, I need an ambulance, there’s been a home invasion…” Nate’s voice trailed off. He didn’t even know how Nate got free or where Ben was. It didn’t matter. Not in this moment. Only Trina. That’s all he could think about. He wasn’t going to let his son grow up like he had.

“Trina, please… please, baby, stay with me. Fight…”

Unknown Location

Present

Slowly her eyes opened, bright lights burning against her eyelids. She winced as she tried to focus. To fight through the fog and the pain.

“Well, well, welcome back,” a female voice said, her voice practically dripping with disdain and a healthy dose of sarcasm.

Trying to sit up in the bed, Trina squinted in her direction. “You…? What…. where… where’s Sam?”

Sara examined her fingernails. “Oh, doing paperwork I assume. There’s a lot of fuss when someone dies.”

Anxiety gripped her. “Dies?”

“Oh, sorry, I should’ve led with that, I guess.”

The blonde crossed the room, smug and satisfied. Trina tried to get up only to be stopped by a handcuff around her right wrist. A quick glance confirmed she was cuffed to the bed frame. Her stomach muscles contracted and she let out a pained gasp.

The other woman laughed. “Oh, you don’t remember do you? Here… I’ll help.”

She pulled up a chair, dragging it across the wooden floor noisily. She straddled it, the chair back becoming an armrest. “You’ve had a lot of drugs so memory loss is to be expected.”

“Where’s Sam?”

“I’m getting to that. Jesh. Patience! Let me set the scene for you some. Your house, of course, and oh, yeah you got stabbed. Ring any bells?”

The pain in her abdomen. Similar to when she had her C-section. And also when she got shot all those lifetimes ago in King’s Bay. It was just so hard to think. All she wanted to do was sleep. 

“No? Well, Sam apparently wouldn’t give up the location of some dusty old things, so you got punished for it. I guess he really doesn’t care if you live or die.”

“No…”

“I mean, he’s not here, is he?”

She pulled the blanket down to see a hospital gown. Using her left hand, she revealed the layers of bandages. She’d definitely been hurt. Sara wasn’t lying about that. But she had to be lying about Sam. There’s no way he’d be anywhere else but her side. She knew her husband well. Way more than this bitch did.

“Where the fuck is here?” Trina asked, trying to find some strength. 

“It doesn’t really matter. You’ll never leave here alive.”

She let out a short laugh. “Oh, you still think I believe you? Listen, Sara… no matter what, Sam chose me. So you can forget about trying to win him back. He doesn’t give a flying fuck about you.”

“Overconfident once again,” Sara said, smirking. “Let’s stop playing games then, Mrs. Adler.”

She straightened up in the bed, trying to relieve the pressure on her stomach. “It’s Mrs. Drake.”

“He never told you, did he? Oh Rafe…”

“You knew Rafe? Rafe Adler?”

Sara laughed. “Knew him? Of course I knew him. He is–or rather was–my brother. Half-brother, to be more… specific.”

“He was an only child.”

“That was the public line. Can’t really claim the illegitimate product of an affair when you are that high profile. We worked it out. And Rafe took care of me and John until you came into the picture.”

Trina shook her head. “You’re lying.”

The other woman stood up, taking a deep sigh. “Fine… we can play this game.”

Scotland

After the Auction

The front door was already unlocked when she reached for the knob. She stepped inside, calling out for her brother.

Sara only made it a few steps inside before nearly stumbling over a body in the luxurious foyer. Even with her face to the side, she recognized the redhead. Trina. The wife. She was sprawled across the marble floor, her wrists tied together with a belt, and a small pool of blood beneath her body and head.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” her brother said as he knocked back a drink a few feet away. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

“What the actual fuck, Rafe?” She pointed to the other woman, who happened to be making moaning sounds. She was still alive somehow.

“I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Umm, call 911? Or whatever it is here.”

“Help… me…” Trina whimpered.

Sara sighed. “Rafe…”

“She… I can’t go to jail over this!”

“Then get your shit together! Untie her hands at least. Damnit, Rafe. Now you’ve dragged me into this shit.”

“Help…”

She stomped toward the front door. “Or we can just stand around and let her die. I mean, it’s not like anyone will miss her. No family, right?”

“Right.”

“Probably some internal bleeding or head trauma. All we need to do is wait it out, then you can call, say you just got home and oh no, what a tragedy.”

He nodded, nudging the fallen woman with his foot. There was a soft moan in response. “How long do you think?”

“You could always smother her.”

“Sara…”

“What? You called me, remember? I don’t even know why I bothered…”

“Because you want to know about Sam.”

She glared at him, arms crossed. “Seriously, Rafe? You gonna hold that over my head so I what… kill your bitch wife for you?”

“I have a lead on his whereabouts,” he said with a shrug.

Trina coughed on the floor. Rafe bent down and untied her wrists from a belt. There were bruises on her pale skin already. God, he could be stupid at times.

“Again… what do you want me to do?” she asked, gesturing to the body on the floor.

“I don’t know!”

“Fine! Fine! I’ll be the bad guy.” She yanked the belt from his hand and looped it around the other girl’s neck. A hand weakly reached up toward the leather strap as Sara tightened it. She pulled the end through the buckle and then yanked it under the strap, and it closed tightly around the throat without anyone holding it.

Trina coughed, clawing at her own throat.

“Bye, bye, bitch,” she said, turning to look at her brother. “Where’s Sam?”

Instead of answering, her brother stared at the woman on the floor, focused on her. He seemed fascinated and concerned at the same time.

“Fuck it,” he said, yanking the belt away from her throat and tossing it across the room. She coughed and sputtered, still grabbing at her neck as she sucked down air.

“Sam. Where is Sam?” Sara repeated as he knelt on the floor beside his wife, his hand caressing her cheek.

“Italy. Sam was in Italy,” he snapped.

“Great. Where in Italy?”

“Doesn’t matter—he’s long gone. He’ll be coming here soon. He’s got my cross. He’ll need to come here to follow the next clue.”

She scoffed. “Unbelievable, you worthless—“

“Ah, ah, ah… don’t.” He stood up, sending her a dirty, deadly look. “I wouldn’t finish that thought if I were you.”

“You know what? Fine. I hope you two are happy together. I’m done with this shit show.”

Present

“No.”

“Only a handful of people know what happened that night,” Sara said, once again staring at her hands. “And Rafe is dead now, so that’s one less. Did you ever tell Sam?”

“I tell Sam everything. We don’t have secrets.”

“He didn’t tell you about me.”

“Because you don’t matter to him.”

“I should just put you out of your misery. Let you die for real this time.”

“Do it. No matter what, Sam isn’t in love with you. Killing me won’t change that.”

“You say that now. He loved me before you, he’ll love me after you. I’m winning this little competition. After all, we share a son. I’m sure we’ll have another one not too far off in the future…”

Trina laughed. 

“What do you think is so funny?”

“You… and Sam… you don’t have a kid.”

“Yes, we do! John–”

“—is not a Drake. Oh yeah, you think you’ve got it all figured out, right? Well, guess what, Sara? I had some independent tests run. John is not related to Sam. Not even by a tenth of a tenth of a percent. I was trying to figure out how to break the news to Sam. He was looking forward to meeting him.”

“Sure, like I’d trust your ‘experts’.” 

“You should. They were once Rafe’s.”

Sara stopped cold. “What?”

“You know, since we’re playing all our cards. Tit for tat?” Trina said, with more confidence than she actually felt. Being quick on her feet was all she had going for herself at the moment. And maybe it would help. At least, she’d die fighting back, even if it was only with words.

“I didn’t like you then. Still don’t like you now, Katrina. All he ever wanted was a little prize for his arm. I told him you were dangerous.”

“Dangerous? No. But we all have our breaking point. Mine? When he killed my child. Sam’s child. After that, no… Rafe had to pay. Blood for blood. I took a lot of punches in my time. Slaps. Broken bones. Burns. Whatever his sick need was that day. I took it. But after that… after killing my innocent child? Rafe deserved to burn in hell. And you know what?” Trina sized her up, venom in her voice. “I’m glad he’s dead. And I’m glad that it was me. What? You thought Sam did it?”

“You… you don’t have the balls…”

Trina scoffed. “Rafe hated Sam. Always had. Sam was pinned. Your… brother strangled me, left me for dead. Thing is… I wasn’t ready to die. Not that day. So when he went after Nate… I ended it. I stabbed him. Twice in the back, once in the chest.”

“You’re lying.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Believe what you want… I killed Rafe. And if you don’t leave my family alone, you can join him.”

Hospital

“I want to see her.”

Sam could barely talk. He felt numb. It had to be wrong—had to be a mistake. It couldn’t be Trina—not his Trina. He’d know, right? Like a gut feeling. She couldn’t be dead.

“It’s not possible, Mr. Drake. The Medical Exa–”

“That’s my wife… I need to see her! There has to be a mistake–!”he shouted, losing what little control he still had. This can’t be real… it can’t…

The doctor shook his head, still fairly stone-faced. “I’m afraid there’s nothing–”

“Then you find out who can help me! I need to see her! Trina?! TRINA!”

Victor put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. “Sam…”

“She… she can’t be–Victor, she—”

“I know, kid. I know.”

“She… Trina…”

“I know,” the older man said softly. “Let’s sit. C’mon.”

“I–I can’t…”

“We’re not going anywhere yet. Just sit. Breath,”

“Trin…”

“I know. I know.” Victor sighed. “I’ll get Nat–”

“No… I… Trin…”

“Okay, boyo. Don’t pass out on me.”

He didn’t remember sitting down but he felt his limbs quake. His entire body seemed to almost be trembling. He was falling apart.

Boston

35 Years Ago

Nate clung to his leg as they watched the plain box be lowered into the open grave. There was no one there. No priest. No family. No service. Just two of them. It was always him and Nathan against the world.

“Boys, let’s go.”

He glanced over at his father. His useless and worthless father. When they needed him–when Mom needed him most–he wasn’t there. He was never there. Never cared. It made him sick to carry his last name. 

“Mom…” Nate whimpered.

“I know, but she’s not there. She’s not–she’s watchin’ us both, got it? That’s not her–that’s not Mom. Just her… her shell. Right?”

“Right.”

“C’mon, I gotcha. I’ve always gotcha, little brother.”

St. Francis’ Boy’s Home

Nate was stuck to him like a burr. They were still in their funeral clothes as they sat on a wooden pew, their father just down the hall meeting with the Father while the nuns puttered about. He heard the whispers between them–about them. “Poor boys” and definitely the sense of superiority. 

Because they believed in God. And God protected them. They’d never risk eternal damnation by committing such a sin.

As if God hadn’t been the one to ignore their prayers. To let their mother suffer. And suffer to the point that she no longer could fight. That she had no choice but to end it all. Her suffering. The illness. Their family.

Their father crouched down in front of them.

“Boys, I know it’s been a lot–”

“You’re leaving us, aren’t you?” Sam asked, pain and rage all tangled up together.

“I’m–”

“If you’re not, why are we here? Huh? Like I didn’t hear you on the phone last night? Just come off it. Just admit it–you don’t want us.”

“Samuel, that’s not–”

“Isn’t it? Mom’s not even been in the ground an hour and already you’re tossing us aside. Right?”

Their father let out a deep sigh. “One day, you’ll understand why I did this. When you’re older–”

“You don’t just abandon your kids!”

“Dad? Don’t leave!” Nate clung to him tighter and he threw his arms around his brother. “No!”

“You’re upsetting your brother…”

“Me? I’m not the one chucking us out!”

“That’s not what’s happening here, Samuel.”

He shook his head. “That’s exactly what’s happening. I’m ten, not stupid.”

“Samuel Morgan, you don’t talk to me like that! I am your father!”

“Are you? Are you sure about that? A father doesn’t toss out his kids!”

Slap.

His cheek stung but it didn’t matter. His father was dead to him now. No dad abandoned their kids when things got hard. He was a shitty father even when he was there. He was more of a father to Nathan anyways. He always protected his brother. He always would.

And he’d never throw away his own kids. No matter what.

New Orleans

Present

Henry babbled happy baby nonsense as he crawled over from where Elena was on the living floor, surrounded by the debris of what seemed like an entire toy store in Nate’s house.

“Hey little guy,” he said, trying to smile at him. To protect him. He’d found the time to change at the hospital. Washed his wife’s blood off his hands. His clothes were evidence now in her murder.

The ache in his chest made it hard to breathe. The guilt. The fear. The loss. The pain.

She was gone. Trina was gone.

He didn’t know how to do this parenting thing alone. Not without her. He’d fucked himself and Nathan up. The only thing he’d done right was falling in love with her. Starting a family. She reunited him and Nate. Trina was the glue. 

Even Sullivan was in his life because of her. She brought them all together. Chloe and Nadine, too. Which still felt wrong that Nadine Ross was a friend and not an opponent. 

She made him a better man. 

He just needed this nightmare to end. To close his eyes and wake up with her in his arms. The way it was supposed to be. To live their lives together. To raise Henry together. 

And his son would never remember his mother. He was too young. He wouldn’t know the joy that went with her smile or how she never failed to make him laugh with a quick quip or a cutting remark.

The warmth and depth of her eyes.  How full of love her heart was.

“Guess what, kiddo?” he said softly. “We get to stay with Uncle Nate and Auntie Elena for a bit longer. How’s that sound? Huh?”

Henry smiled. “Mama?”

Sam’s face fell instantly. 

“No, bud…. no Mama…”

“Mama?”

“Sam…” Elena’s hand touched his shoulder. “I’ve got him. Go… go rest. I’ve got this. Okay?”

He kissed his son’s forehead as the tears started to flow. “Hey, Auntie Elena’s got you, kiddo. Go play.”

Henry didn’t seem to notice, quickly turning to see what was in store for them. So happy. He didn’t know what happened. He didn’t know his mother was dead. And Sam had no idea how to explain to his nine month old son that his mother was never coming home. That they were never going home again.

Their house was an active crime scene now. Even once it was all released, he doubted he could walk across that threshold. Into their house. Where everything would be inhabited by her ghost. Their bed. Henry’s nursery. He’d never walk downstairs again and drink her nasty uber sweet coffee by accident. Or walk in on her singing in the kitchen for no reason. No more shoes kicked off in random piles near their bed.

No head on his chest while he slept. 

She was gone. Trina was gone.

Chapter Text

Nate and Elena’s

Evening

Elena looked at the sleeping infant lying in the pack and play in their bedroom. Henry was exhausted and soundly asleep despite the unfamiliar surroundings and the tension in the house.

Sam was down the hall in her office on a blow-up mattress while Sully took the couch. Normally, Sam would take the couch, but Sully had insisted Sam have some privacy at least for tonight. None of them could argue that. Not after what happened to Trina.

Nate peeked through the blinds and out the window. “Still looks clear.”

“What do we do? I mean, Sam… this shouldn’t happen. They were at home. It was safe. It should’ve been safe.”

“I don’t know. She was in bad shape, but not that bad. I mean…” Nate sighed. “There’s no way she wouldn’t fight to survive. For Henry. For Sam. She should be alive.”

“But she’s not.”

“That’s what they tell us. Sully said they wouldn’t even let Sam see her.”

“What? That’s crazy,” she said. “He has rights—“

“Medical examiner was all they would say.”

“So because she was stabbed, by someone who is not you and not Sam, he’s not allowed to see her body? That’s insane, Nate.”

“I agree. It’s hinky.”

“Very. I know a few people still, maybe one of them will know more. It’s a huge story no matter what. I mean, a home invasion leading to murder? Here? After she gets mugged? Eyes are on this. Lots of eyes. And that’s without linking her to us or Rafe.”

She couldn’t help but feel all ‘Elena Fisher, Investigative Journalist’ again. She couldn’t help but want answers. For herself and most importantly her family. Sam deserved answers.

“Will it even matter in the end? She’s still gone. She’s not coming back. And Sam—“ he trailed off with a sigh.

“You think Sam will hurt himself?”

“I don’t know,” he said and she saw the pain in his face. While they were still getting to know Trina, both of them knew how deeply Sam loved her. And they loved her. She was family. “The last time I saw him like that… our mom had died.”

“You were kids.”

“Yeah.” He shook his head. “He’s always been hard to read, even as kids. Before, I’d say no way. But this Sam… he was happy. They were happy. He finally got a taste of what we have. We had a family again. All of us. I know he loves Henry, but I don’t know if that’s enough for him.”

“Maybe Sully knows more?”

Nate shrugged. “Maybe. They weren’t really close. But he was there.”

“All I know is, I’d feel lost. Every time you disappeared, I worried I wouldn’t see you again alive. So many times I had to convince myself you had to be alive because I couldn’t bear to think about the alternative,” she admitted, putting her arms around his waist. 

“Well, it’s not like you had a body.”

“Technically, Sam doesn’t either.”

Morning

Sam sat on the back porch of Nathan’s house, starting his third cigarette of the morning. He hadn’t really slept. Or ate. Or frankly done much of anything. He couldn’t function. 

“Hey, kid,” Sullivan said, pulling up a chair and a cigar.

He nodded in his direction as a greeting.

“You look like shit.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah? What should I look like, Victor? Am I not smiling enough?”

“I ain’t telling you how to grieve, I just wanted you to know you’re not alone. We all miss her. And we’re here for you. So, talk to us. Don’t do anything rash.”

He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette. “She’s gone.”

“And you are still here. So is that little boy of yours.”

“You think I’m gonna hurt myself?”

Sully shrugged. “I don’t know, kid. I know we aren’t that close, but, boyo, we all love her. And we’re here for you and Henry. Anything you need. Just ask.”         

He narrowed his eyes at the older gentleman. “Can you bring her back to life? Honestly. ‘Cause right now, that’s what I need more than anything. I need my wife back.”

He shook his head. “If I could, I’d do it.”

Sam took a long drag on the remains of his current cigarette. “Let me know when you can.”

He stubbed it out and pulled out a fresh one and his lighter. He spun the wheel, the lighter refusing to catch. He cursed, thumbing it again.

It finally lit, Sullivan using his own lighter this time.

Sam grumbled a thanks and shoved the engraved lighter back in his pocket. Damnit, you can’t do anything right, can you? You’re worthless. It should be you. You brought this into your home.

“I told Nate about our little talk in the hospital. About the folio. He’s got a few ideas—“

“It doesn’t matter anymore. He won. He killed her.”

“Samuel, look at me. This is not on you. You didn’t stab her.”

“I basically did! He came into my house—“

“—and you tried! You tried, Sam. I know you did. You love her beyond compare. She’s the same. Just as deep. All in. She’d tell you to get off your ass and stop moping and stop this fucker. That’s what she’d want.”

“She’s dead! No matter what I do… she doesn’t come home, Victor! Trina’s dead!”

“Kid, she wouldn’t want you sitting here, beating yourself up. She’d tell you to get off your ass and do something about it. Don’t let this be her legacy. You’ve got two kids who need their father.”

“Two?”

“Yeah… you’re supposed to be meeting the other one later today.”

Sam frowned. “That’s today? How do you—?“

“She told me, Samuel. Elena and I have the little bugger. Nate’s driving you. Don’t even try and argue—you’re going even if I have to drag your ass out to the car myself.”

Hotel

She leaned close to the mirror as she worked on her eye makeup. It was important to look her best for Sam. After all, he was now a widower.

Sara sighed, looking at herself. It wasn’t perfect but it would do. She carefully applied her lipstick as the hotel room door opened.

“Mom?”

“In here!” she called from the attached bathroom.

John Drake wandered into view, dressed in jeans and a wrinkled graphic t-shirt. His dark hair was on the long side and messy. He did look a lot like Sam to her. 

“Can we go now?”

“Almost done. Change your shirt.”

“Seriously? No.”

She closed the tube of lipstick while she smacked her lips. “Change. Now. I won’t have you looking like a slob when you meet your father.”

“Who the fuck cares?”

She slammed the counter with her hand. “Language! And I care, I care very much! You will make a good impression on your father. It’s very important—“

“I don’t care! I don’t even know why you set this shit up anyways, I don’t give a shit who he is.”

Sara narrowed her eyes, anger rising. “He is your father. Boys should have a father. And Samuel… he has a good heart. Stubborn, but street smart. He’ll be there for you in ways I can’t. You’re lucky to have him as a father.”

“Sure,” he scoffed, throwing his hands up.

“Jonathan Drake, go change. Now.”

“Fuck this!” he growled, stomping off to his own hotel room.

She shook her head then finger combed her hair a bit. There. Perfect. Sam wouldn’t be able to resist her like this. He never had before. And now with Trina off the board, there was no excuse for him anymore.

They could finally be together.

Café

He sighed as he stepped through the front door behind his brother. If it was up to him, Sam would still be at Nate’s and quite possibly drunk. Very drunk.

Instead, he’d been chain smoking almost non-stop since Trina wasn’t there. He’d always been an anxious smoker. The nicotine took off the edge, but only just. She wasn’t there to swat the cigarette out of his hand.

“Sam, stop it! Eww!”

“Mmm, you know you love it...” he teased, a smirk on his face as she tried to squirm away.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

She touched his cheek and sighed dramatically before leaning in for a quick kiss.

“Hey, you’ve got this,” Nate said softly, his hand on Sam’s arm.

He nodded at his younger brother, trying to stand up, to look like he was–while not excited–not completely broken. Which he was. He didn’t know what to do with her gone. Not yet. He couldn’t even really be there for his son at the moment. He was turning into his father.

Though having Elena and Nathan is definitely an upgrade from the orphanage…

“Sam! Over here!”

He turned to see Sara, perky and cheery, in another low cut and tight outfit. It actually looked trashy to him now. God, he missed Trina.

What did I ever see in her?

She pulled him into a hug and he tried not to push her away. “Sara…”

Oh yeah, sex, that’s why…damnit, Drake, you were an idiot…

“Jonathan, come meet your father!”

He looked up as she waved over a sullen teenage boy. Sam didn’t feel much of a connection to him, not that different from the photos Sara had shown him. But he’d agreed to meet him and he’d get through it somehow.

“Hi, I’m Sam. Your… father I guess.”

He held out a hand and the teen looked at it, not taking it. “You mean sperm donor.”

Nate struggled to hold back a snort and failed. Sam sighed. “I deserve that. I mean, I’m nobody to you. But I thought I’d at least meet ya. Let you ask any questions you have. If you never wanna see me again after… I’ll understand.”

“Of course he’ll want to see you! You’re his father!” Sara gasped. “I have the DNA results too—you are his father, Sam… you of all people know what it’s like not having a father.”

Nate moved between before he could make a sound. “Back off, Sara. Damnit, we should’ve rescheduled…” his brother muttered, almost dead even between the ex-lovers.

“Rescheduled? What are you talking about, Nathan?”

Sam took a deep breath. “Because my wife was murdered.”

“Fuck,” John said, plopping down in a chair.

“Yeah, so… I’ll answer whatever I can, I just…”

The teen nodded as Sam took a seat. Nate stayed between him and Sara. She didn’t look happy at all.

“’kay… Mom said you were in prison?”

“Yup… thirteen years so… most of your life. I guess it’s been about four years now I’ve been out. Really don’t recommend going to Panama. Or at least, don’t get arrested down there.”

“Got it.”

“Tell… tell me a bit about yourself. What do you like to do?”

The teen shrugged. “Not much. Games. Mom won’t let me drive yet so pretty much just hang at home.”

“Well, if you’re anything like me, it’s a good thing you’re not driving yet. When I was about your age, I had a bike. 500cc twin… I loved that bike.”

“Nice. So… I have any siblings? Since… you were married and all that,” John asked and he seemed more relaxed. Though Sara looked ready to blow.

“A little brother. Henry. He’s not a year old yet, but soon. It’s fun being a big brother though. This ugly fellow right here is my kid brother, Nathan. Your uncle.”

“Cool.” He nodded at Nate.

“You’ll meet Elena eventually… your aunt. Still not sure why she settled for this clown, but she’s pretty awesome. You’ll like her.”

“What was her name?” John asked.

“Her name?”

“Your… your wife. The one who died.”

Sam looked at his hands, rubbing his wedding band. “Trina. Her name was Trina.”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Oh, Sam,” Sara said, stepping around Nathan to rub his shoulders. “I can’t imagine how you feel right now. I’m here for you, whatever you need. I mean it… being a single parent is hard.”

He tensed up in the chair. “Yeah, uh, I… I can’t right now… I can’t…”

He pulled away from her and outside. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see.

The brick wall barely held him up as he staggered outside. He could see Nate’s Jeep but he needed the air. He needed Trina.

Sam turned a corner, his feet taking him home.

Chapter Text

Unknown Building

Earlier

Ben took a chair in the living room. “He’s not stupid you know.”

Sara scoffed, looking up from her phone. “All I needed was to buy us some time for phase two. You weren’t getting answers.”

“He’ll know it’s not her body!”

“No, no… he’ll suspect it. What’s he gonna do? Run it for DNA?”

“He might. You didn’t see him when I stabbed her. He begged me to save her. Then he lost it. I’m lucky I survived.”

“Sam will get over her. But we have her as a back-up just in case he needs more motivation. You could’ve just killed her and Nathan Drake at the same time.”

Ben shook his head. “No, it was too dangerous to take on them both. I figured I’d start with her. She’s easier to contain. Unless she’s cornered. That’s when she’s dangerous.”

“You know I don’t give a flying fuck, right?”

Ben shrugged toward the blonde. “Meh. I only want the documents. And for Sam to suffer of course.”

“You’ll get them soon enough. Sam will come to his senses soon.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Sara narrowed her eyes. “He will. Or I kill the kid.”

He froze. “The kid? You mean the baby?”

She shrugged. “We can have other kids. He doesn’t need her spawn.”

“Sara, he’s not even a year old!”

“See? Can’t even be that attached to it!”

He sighed. “How are we on money?”

“Got about three grand left. Stupid bitch didn’t cancel her cards. It’s so easy being Mrs. Samuel Drake,” she said with a grin. “Can’t believe it’s taken me this long. It’ll be worth it in the end. So, so worth it… which reminds me, I better get going if I’m going to make our date.”

Later

The handcuff had rubbed the skin on her right wrist raw in addition to twisting her arm in an awkward pose over her head to link her to the bed frame. Trina Drake knew it was useless to complain. She was lucky to be alive still. She still wasn’t sure why they kept her alive. Especially not if Sam thought she was dead.

And considering how Sara looked ready to kill her. Which, she kinda deserved. She had killed Rafe, after all. It still seemed like a bad soap opera. What were the odds that her dead husband’s half-sister would be obsessed with the love of her life? How small was the world really?

Her abdomen protested as she tried to shift in the narrow bed. She hissed in pain, feeling the stitches pulling at her healing skin.

“Oh, look who’s awake,” a male voice called from the doorway.

Trina looked up and into the face of the man who’d stabbed her.

“No. No, no, no…”

She pulled at the cuff, trying to yank free, even as the metal dug in deeper, cutting her skin. She had to get away from him, before he finished the job.

“Wow, I guess you remember me, then?”

“We don’t have it! Please… if I knew, I’d tell you…I’d tell you…”

He nodded, approaching the bed. “Oh, I know you would. And so would your husband. I mean, my little experiment showed that nicely. I thought it was a nice dramatic touch.”

He went to brush her hair away from her eyes and she slapped at him with her left hand. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

He snorted. “Oh, honey, I could do so much worse to you. Luckily I’m a reasonable man.”

He patted her thigh and she jumped reflexively as her heart raced. No, no… not again. Never again. Never.

“Don’t worry, you’re not my type,” he said with a grin. “Now, let’s get down to brass tacks. Your husband stole from me. Samuel will have to return the folio, find the journal, and bring me the Jewel or this time… this time, you die for real.”

“We’re a team, Sam and I. We can find it—“

“No, no. I’m not falling for that. He’s got friends. You’d just try to run. No, you stay with me as leverage. He’ll do whatever it takes for you to live, won’t he?”

Mouth dry, she nodded.

“Good. We have an understanding then. Time to get Samuel on the same page.”

He held up a cell phone. As soon as she saw the lockscreen, with the picture of Sam asleep with Henry on his chest on it, she knew. It was her phone. Her stolen phone.

Sam and Trina’s

Sam ducked under the police tape and unlocked the front door. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside his house. Their house.

There was fingerprint powder and tape marks and other signs of crime scene techs, minus the little yellow numbered markers. Those were all gone.

He paused to glance in the dining room. The shattered chair he’d escaped from lay in pieces, zipties hanging limply from the shards. A similarly broken chair indicated where Nathan had been. The third one was mostly intact on the floor.

It rested against a pool of dried blood. A few squares were cut out of the rug, exposing the bare wood floor underneath. Her blood soaked into what remained. So much blood. It looked worse than he remembered.

He closed his eyes. He could still feel her hand on his as she slipped away.

“Trina! Katrina! Stay with me!”

He pressed his hand against her side as he freed her hands. She put her left hand on top of his. So weak as her blood spilled out.

He shook his head, trying not to think about her final moments.

A storm. Waves crashing as boats raced toward the island.

Another boat crashed into them and they all three slipped on the wet deck.

Just out of reach, she slid away from him. “Trina!”

He tried to grab her arm and missed.

“Sam!”

Another hit and she went over the edge and into the raging water, her arm still outstretched for his hand.

He went upstairs, trying to shake the memories loose. He paused outside the nursery. He could picture her right there, in the chair, softly talking to Henry as she rocked them.

“And tomorrow, after Mr. Grumpypants wakes up, we’ll get dressed and go to the park. I know you want to play in the sandbox. Then we’ll have lunch and you’ll get a nap, and maybe Mama and Daddy can have a few minutes of peace. Not that we don’t love our little man, because we do. Oh so much.”

“Damnit, Trin… it should’ve been me…”

Around the corner, in their bedroom, her new cell was still on the charger. Their bed was unmade and he could almost see her there, invading his side of the bed like she always did. The sheets were cold to his touch though.

He glanced toward the bathroom, the light still on. Sam stepped in to hit the switch, pausing to look at the cluttered double sink.

Her bracelet shone. “Sic Parvis Magna” was engraved on the outside. She’d got it around the time they ordered their wedding rings. He picked it up, so delicate and strong at the same time, just like her. He tucked it inside the front pocket of his jeans. She loved that bracelet.

“Sam…”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

He clicked off the light and walked back toward their bed. This whole house was heavy with her presence. He hated the stillness and silence. No noise from Henry’s toys. No Trina talking or calling his name or banging about the kitchen.

“I’m right here. Sam…” She touched his cheek.

“You almost weren’t.”

“But I’m here. I’m right here. And I’m not going anywhere without a fight. I promise. It’s you and me, Drake. Always.”

Sam climbed into the empty bed and grabbed her pillow. A soft floral scent—her scent—drifted from the pillow.

“If it was up to me… we’d never leave bed,” she said, her hair tickling his bare chest as she lay in his arms.

“Yeah? I think the little guy might be opposed to that.”

“Oh, I’d never ignore Little Sam.”

“Hey—hey! No, no we talked about this.”

She smirked at him with a knowing look. “C’mon, you always fall for that one.”

He sighed deeply. “I hate you.”

“No, no, Mr. Drake… you love me...”

He groaned as she shifted on the bed, that sly and seductive look crossing her face. He knew that look well.

“Do I?”

“Uh, huh,” she said, kissing him deeply as she straddled him, her naked body pressed against his.

“Baby, I’m so sorry… I never… if I could do it again—I’d take your place. Henry needs you. I need you. It’s not supposed to be like this.”

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

“Nathan, for fuck’s sake…”

He pulled it out, a choice reply on the tip of his fingers as he read the screen.

Her name. Her phone. Her phone was calling.

Sam rubbed his eyes and glanced at the nightstand. Her new phone was still there. So who was using her number? He accepted the video call all the same.

“Nathan, you better not be on this line, I swear—“

“Hello, Samuel.”

Ben White came into view on the screen with a cheeky grin.

“You! You fucker, I’m gonna find you and I’m gonna kill you for what you did!”

“Easy, tiger. Oof, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, didn’t he, sweetheart?”

The video focus changed. He blinked as it came into focus.

“Sam…”

It was his wife. His Trina. Alive.

Chapter Text

“Trin? How?”

She looked hollow on the phone. Pale, draped in a hospital gown, with her hair dull and mussed. She was half-dead at first glance but then he saw her eyes change. The sparkle returned, just like it used to in Scotland. It hurt to see her like that. Hopeless.

“I don’t know. Sam, are you ok? Henry? Nate—?“

“We miss you. Baby… I… they—they told me you were dead. I tried so hard…”

“I know.” A sad smile crossed her face.

“Trin—I’m gonna find you. I will. I swear. I’ll find you—“

“Okay, okay—business first,” Ben said, turning the phone camera back to himself. “I still need those folios you stole and the journal. You are going to find me the Drake Jewel or you get her back in a box. For real this time.”

“You motherfuck—“

“Hey, hey, hey Samuel. Down boy!”

The view shifted again and it was on her. He could read the pain and the fear on her face. She was trying to be brave. But he could see that same looks he used to notice around Rafe. The same worries. She was waiting for Ben to snap and go after her. She was quieter. Subdued. What had he done to her?

“Just remember who holds the cards here, Drake. It would be so easy for me to break her neck.”

Trina scrambled to try and claw his fingers off as he choked her with one hand. The video was shaky and grainy but he could hear her struggling for air all the same.

“Stop it! Let her go! You fucker!”

A final few coughs turned into wheezes as he watched her rub her throat. The translucent pale skin was already bruised. The pattern was identical to his fingers.

Scotland

One Year Before Libertalia

He pulled her in close for a kiss, his hand gently on her back. She moaned into his lips and his other hand caressed the side of her neck.

She jerked back from him like she’d been shocked and let out a pained sound.

Sam paused. “Trin?”

Her hands touched her neck and she turned away from him. A gauzy silk scarf covered her skin.

“What did he do? Trina, baby…”

He stepped closer and she looked at him, her eyes dim and sad as she unwound the scarf and let it fall into a puddle on the floor. And he finally got a look at Rafe’s handiwork.

Her neck was covered in healing bruises. It was easy to see the impression of fingers on her pale skin. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“Baby…”

“It’s my fault,” she whispered.

“No, no it’s not. There’s nothing—“

“I said no. I shouldn’t—I know better.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper

“Baby, no. There’s no excuse in the world. None. He could’ve killed you! You did nothing wrong.”

She finally met his eyes, still downcast and unsure.

“I swear, one day, we’ll be far from here. And no one will never hurt you again.”

New Orleans

Present

“Do I have your attention now, Samuel?” his ex-partner asked.

“Yes, yes you do. Now stop fucking touching her! This is between you and me—not her! You wanna blame someone? Hurt someone? Hurt me. Let my wife go. You can even kill me. I don’t fucking care—just let Trina go.”

Her voice was hoarse. “Sam, no. No.”

“Baby, it’s ok. Henry needs you. He needs his mother.”

She broke into loud hiccupy sobs, her entire body shaking. She looked frail and broken in that oversized gown and in the dimly lit room. This wasn’t his fearless wife. She was a shell of the woman he knew and loved.

Sam wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and console her. Even if it was all lies. He did this. His reckless and selfish past self put everyone he loved in danger. Trina was his weakness. So was Henry. And Nathan. Elena. Even Victor ‘Goddamn’ Sullivan.

“I don’t want you dead… yet. You see, we’ve been talking and your precious wifey has offered a solution. She claims that you can find the Jewel. Right, sweetheart?”

Trina nodded her head, still hiccup crying.

“Together? Yeah, we cou—“

“Good. Now of course, I can’t just let her go. You understand that, right? So find the folio and the journal. Then—and only then—will we meet up. Don’t look so sad, dear. You’ll see him soon. Unless you try to run that is. Then you’ll get a bullet in the head.”

Ben touched her hair as she pulled away, shaking. He could see her withdrawing inside. Hiding. Like she used to do. Back when Rafe hit her or screamed at her. The light was leaving her eyes. Killing her slowly inside.

“Okay, okay! I get it. I just—don’t hurt her. You’ve done enough, White. Stop terrorizing her. It’s me you’re pissed at, not her. She didn’t take the folios—I did. So be mad at me!”

“Oh, I know. Why do you think I stabbed her?”

“Sam…” she whimpered.

“I’m here, I’m here, baby. Hey…”

She looked at him with those sad, scared eyes and it broke his heart.

“Touching as this all is, once you have the folio, we’ll talk again. Say ‘bye’ to Samuel.”

“Sam.”

“I know. I know, baby. Sic Parvis Magna, ok?”

He watched her eyes look at her hand. To her rings. Before she could respond, the call ended, leaving him sitting alone in their bed, wondering what the hell just happened and how she was alive.

But she was alive. Trina was alive.

Before Panama

South America

Sam lifted the box from the hole carefully. Using his hands and a quick puff of air, he blew some of the dirt off. The lockbox was smaller than he’d imagined. Either way, it was what he was after.

A quick bang on the worn lid and it opened.

And it was empty.

“No, no, no… this… it’s the right spot…”

He dug into the hole again by hand, slightly panicked. It had to be here. The folio brought him here. Here where Sir Francis Drake once took refuge. This was the place. It had to be the place.

Nothing.

Frustrated, he kicked the box and a piece popped off. Sam crouched in the dirt and examined it more closely. “False bottom, of course.”

He pried at the box, carefully extracting a small piece of parchment. A piece of another folio. Another clue.

“Sic Parvis Magna,” he muttered, seeing the motto etched on the paper. Drake had been here. He was on the right path.

Nate and Elena’s

Present

Sully, Nate, Elena, and Sam were all crowded around the table with various relics and papers spread out. Henry was asleep upstairs with the monitor closest to Sam. The black and white “night vision” mode took some getting used to but he wasn’t about to let anything happen to his son.

“Of course you’d get a bullet stuck in Sir Francis Drake’s journal,” he sighed, shaking his head at Nate.

“Hey, that wasn’t me!”

“Really? After you managed to destroy the Fancy, the entire Aram of the Pillars, and Shambhala… you expect me to believe this wasn’t you?” He tapped at the bullet hole.

“Actually, that one was on me,” Victor said.

He hung his head. “Victor, you disappoint me. Wrecking priceless artifacts is classic Nathan.”

“Why do think I told him to retire?” Elena offered.

“Hey, I found things!” his brother protested.

“Sure you did, little brother. Now, what did good old Sir Francis Drake tell us?”

Before Panama

South America – Near the Amazon Rainforest

The leather bound journal was smaller than he had imagined. Worn leather had turned brittle but he opened it slowly, skimming pages.

Some drawings. Some notations. Nothing too special. Nothing about El Dorado yet. Or the Drake Jewel.

Then there it was. A drawing of a stone monument—a tomb. The secret of El Dorado, just out of reach.

He turned the page only to find coordinates. Surprisingly straight forward. Too damn easy.

Sam Drake flipped back through the pages before examining the book itself closely.

“Damnit.”

There was a small mark on the inside of the cover flap. A leather store’s mark. The journal in his hand, despite the aging and the handcrafting, couldn’t be more than about a hundred years old. Way too modern to be Drake’s actual journal. It was worthless.

He lit a cigarette, still glaring at the fake journal. Months of work and research and now here was where the trail ended. In South America. In a small dirt pit. A location he’d double-crossed a partner for. Worthless. Useless.

“Really burned that bridge, didn’t ya, Drake?” he said to himself after a long drag.

He closed his eyes for a moment. He wasted all that effort when he needed to bail out Nathan. Again. Instead, he’d spent his meager earnings on a clue that led him nowhere. He’d been outsmarted. Hell, it might even have been karma after betraying Ben six months ago.

“Fuck me. Back to square one.”

Nate and Elena’s

Present

The front door opened. “Hello, hello!” a warm and loud Australian woman called, perky and bouncy as she let herself in.

Sam stepped down the hall. “Chloe, what are you doin’ here?”

“Saving your ass,” huffed the South African woman squeezing into the foyer behind her partner, her natural curly hair loose. She looked jet lagged and worn-down in her usual fatigues.

“Ah. Nadine Ross. Nice to know some things never change,” he mused with a hint of a smile.

“Ja, ja.”

“We left as soon as Nathan told us,” Chloe said, kicking the door shut. “I can only imagine how you feel. We hopped the first flight we could find. Still took a long damn time. What’s the latest on her?”

“Alive,” he said softly.

“That’s a start. I’m sure she’s giving ‘em hell.”

“Always. You know Trin.” A hint of a smile crossed his face.

“Tenacious as hell, that one. So catch us up. What’s the plan?”

He followed the women back to the table where the others were gathered.

“Gotta find this folio and a journal. Find out where Drake hid the Jewel.”

“Isn’t that in a museum?” Nadine asked.

“Forgery,” Sam and Nate said at the same time.

“They always like this?” Nadine asked.

“Yup,” Sullivan said as Elena nodded in agreement.

“Lovely,” Nadine added. “Which one of you geniuses is running point?”

“Me, I guess,” Sam said. “We’ve been dissecting the journal Nathan found in Panama, in Drake’s coffin. It’s what the folio I stole would’ve been leading us to.”

“Where’s the folio?”

“Gone. I… I lost it a long time ago. Not that it matters—it only led to a dead end anyways.”

“Anything big stand out?” Chloe asked, pulling up a chair to the table.

Sam shook his head. “No, looks like a few pages are missing but there’s also this Enochian script. Which we can’t translate because someone lost the decoder ring in the Rub’ al Khali desert, what, five years ago?”

“Marlowe lost it, not me,” Nate protested.

“Without it, it’ll take forever to decipher,” Sully added.

“So who’s combing the desert?” Nadine asked, also pulling up a seat the table. It was strange to have help that wasn’t just Nathan or Sullivan. To actually have people who cared. He’d never have allied himself with Nadine if it wasn’t for Trina. And Chloe he’d trusted because Nate did. But Trina was the one who connected them all.

Nate shook his head. “No, no it’s completely buried—the whole city is. Even with tons of equipment and weeks of work… it’s not possible.”

“So we’re back at square one. We need to find those pages. Hopefully they can fill in some things, give us clues,” Chloe said.

“Yeah,” Nate added. “I have the most Drake knowledge so I’m on folio duty. Sully?”

“Logistics,” the older man said. “Plane’s gassed up and ready to go.”

“I’m on papers and visas—soon as we have a location, I’ll get that handled,” Elena chimed in.

Sam nodded, looking at Chloe and Nadine. “We are going to be hoofing it, boots on the ground. Now I found a new exhibit of Drake artifacts, including some that are ‘never before seen’. I got a hook-up so we can case it.”

“Black tie?” Chloe asked.

“Oh hell no,” was Nadine’s response.

“Don’t look at me!” his brother said, hands up in the air, only to point at Nadine. “Last time, she threw me out a goddamn window! Not it!”

“I didn’t pack anything fancy,” Chloe admitted. “Just the usual jeans and loud, not camouflaging t-shirts.” The pointed look at Nadine granted her a scowl from the ex-mercenary.

“Borrow something of Trina’s—just not the green dresses.”

“No green? Everything else…?”

“Fair game. She’d loan them out if she were here.”

“Got it. Elena? Girl’s night?”

“I’m on Henry duty.”

“Aww, how is the little bugger? Last time I saw him, he was still cooking!”

“He’s confused but good. He’ll love having someone new fussing over him.”

“He only likes new people who are thieves,” Sam added with a hint of a smile. “Any grandmotherly types who get too close with their baby talk and boom—waterworks. Toss ‘im at Victor and he’s smoking cigars and grifting like the rest of us.”

Chloe laughed. “Definitely a Drake.”

“Yup. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“So what did he get from Trina?” Chloe asked.

“Her heart. He’s got her heart. Her love for all you idiots and me. That’s Trina.”

“Well, let’s get cracking and get her home then! Chop chop everyone!”

Chapter Text

Two Days Later

Ben had made her prison a bit larger. She’d been switched to a leg chain that stretched through the room and into the cramped adjoining bathroom. The windows were all boarded up and she couldn’t get the chain undone from the heavy bed frame. But at least she was no longer handcuffed. It felt too much like being attached to Rafe.

Trina was still weak and had to be careful not to rip her still-healing stitches. No super human escape attempts were possible yet. Not that it kept her from dreaming. Especially dreaming about home and Sam. She just wanted to go home to her family.

She wasn’t going to die in this prison. She was going to break out one way or another. She was going home.

She’d survived Rafe. Survived Asav. She’d survive Sara and Ben.

Her “competition”. As if Sam gave two shits about his psycho ex. No, Sara had a crazy idea that she’d win him back. Sam wasn’t a prize to be won. He chose her. He loved her. They’d defied Rafe. They always came back to each other. That wasn’t about to change.

“Rise and shine, Princess. Time to hit the road,” Ben called as he entered the room.

“Go where?”

“Doesn’t matter. Freshen up. Quickly.”

“Is Sam—?”

“Only if you’re a good girl. Then I’ll let you give him a call. We’ve got quite a journey ahead so hurry it up.”

“But—“

“Now.” He pulled a syringe out of his pocket. “It’s nap time. If you want fresh clothes, it’s now or never.”

“Okay, okay!”

She slipped into the bathroom and shut the door with a fresh pair of leggings and a shirt in hand. She looked in the mirror at her ragged and worn-down self.

“I’m coming, Sam. I promise.”

New Orleans

“C’mon, kiddo.”

Sam picked up Henry from the pack and play as he squealed in delight while yelling “Papa up!”
“Yeah, papa gotcha.”

“Mama?”

It felt like an anvil caved his chest in. Such an innocent question and yet it drove home the pain of Trina’s absence. He knew Henry didn’t understand. He was too young to realize she was gone. Even if it was only for a short time. His son liked his routines and that usually included Trina getting him out of bed in the morning.

“Soon, bud, soon.”

“Mama! Mama!”

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Elena approaching.

“There’s my favorite guy!” she called with a warm smile.

“Up! Up!” Henry leaned forward, reaching for her.

“Not yet. In a little bit. Daddy misses you,” she said, giving Sam a small smile. “Up later.”

Sam looked down as his son pouted. He really did enjoy spending time with Elena, Nate, and even Victor. Already he’d swayed Chloe to his side as well and Nadine at least no longer tried to run away from him like he was a grenade if he crawled her way.

“Ah, there’s that handsome devil! Morning, Henry. Mwha,” Chloe said, kissing his forehead as he giggled.

“Got ‘em all eating out of your hand, don’t cha? A real ladies’ man already,” Sam mused, ruffling his hair. “Yeah, everyone’s just here to see you.”

“Mama?”

“Soon.” Hail Mary, full of grace…

Sam and Trina’s

Chloe whistled as they stepped in the foyer. “Nice place, Sam. Really.”

He snorted. “This is pretty much all Trina. All that decorating stuff is lost on me.”

“It’s hard isn’t it? Being here without her?”

“Excruciating.”

She nodded. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Don’t forget, I’ve seen you both in the field. I’ve seen Nate and Elena. I get it. Don’t be afraid to be emotional. It’s okay to miss her.”

Sam nodded as they entered the kitchen and he leaned against the island counter, still littered with half-drunk coffee mugs and pieces of baby bottles.

Three Months Ago

Her back to the foyer, Trina restocked and reset bottles on the island while trying to wipe the countertop. Chaos reigned in their house with Henry about but she still tried. Especially when she had a few spare minutes.

“Mmm, hi,” Sam breathed into her neck from behind, his hands on her hips.

She reached back to touch his cheek. “Hi, stranger.”

“Yeah, he’s stubborn, that kid.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

His right hand slipped down her hip and thigh to push up the hem of the shirt she was wearing. She couldn’t help the little moan in her throat.

“Huh, not ringing any bells here.”

Trina turned and kissed him on the lips before he could say anything else. He pulled her close, his tongue probing at her mouth.

Sam lifted her up on the counter as she pulled at his belt and zipper. He pushed her nightgown up around her hips—which today happened to be one of his worn t-shirts from Madagascar—with a groan himself. He had her panties off in an instant as he kissed down her legs.

Trina moaned, already aching and needy. Everyone around her talked about their sex drives often decreased with pregnancy or even post-partum. If anything, Henry spiced up their lives. There was almost as much spontaneity currently as there was back in Scotland, when they were going behind Rafe’s back.

They were both well-matched. They always had been.

With her legs around his waist and her mouth pressed into his shoulder to quiet her own cries of pleasure, she clung to her husband as he thrusted inside her.

I’ll never get sick of this—of us. God, I’m so fucking lucky…

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned in her ear, gripping her hips and alternately squeezing her ass. She’d have bruises later but it didn’t matter.

There was a true passion in their lives. They thrived together, socialite and thief. As much as she hated Rafe, he’d brought them together. He just didn’t know it until the end in Madagascar. Until he tried to hurt Sam. Until he used her as a pawn to control Sam.

Sam’s shoulder absorbed her cry of relief and pleasure as she clenched around him, her body a trembling mess as she came. As she said his name over and over.

Her husband grinned and proceeded to ensure another round that left her a quivery, blissed out mess on the counter before finally coming himself.

She let go of his neck. There would be small crescent marks on his shoulder later from her nails she imagined. She laid back across the cool granite counter, it supporting her and also helping her come down from her high.

“You okay there, babe?”

She nodded at him. “Yeah, better than okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Sam picked her up without any warning into a bridal carry and headed for the stairs.

“I think it’s bedtime for my beautiful, sexy wife.”

“You do know I still need to clean the kitchen eventually.”

“Meh. Future problems.”

He helped her into their bed before taking off his own shirt and pants. She shimmied out of his shirt as she laid there.

And then, almost like magic, he was ready for round two. An earth shattering one that left her crying into a pillow happily. Bliss. Joy. No one else would ever come close to how Sam made her feel.

His enthusiasm was catching, his mouth delightfully dirty, and he always impressed her with how strong he was.

No chiseled granite abs here, but damn if he wasn’t in shape. He never struggled to pick her up or to try new more athletic positions. Treasuring hunting required more physical strength than one would think. And Sam had a rigorous schedule he followed.

Tangled together in the sheets, sweaty and sated, she looked over at him and smiled.

I’m so lucky you picked me. That you love me.

Present

“Last time I was here, I thought she was dead. But then I got the call and there she was—alive. Hurt, yes, but alive. But, Chloe, that look on her face? She’s in hell. And it’s my fault.”

“Hell?”

“She hasn’t looked like that since Rafe. Like even against Asav…it wasn’t this bad. It’s killing me knowing I can’t do anything. She’s out there, hurting, and I’m not there. And she’s only in danger because of me. Because she loves me. It’s killing me, Chloe,” he admitted softly, the counter the only thing keeping him upright.

He was tired. So fucking tired.

“We all fuck things up. All of us.”

“I did this.”

Chloe grabbed him by the shoulders, practically shaking him. “This is not your fault. It’s his. He took her. He threatened your family. You didn’t do this, Sam. We’re gonna get her back.”

“I hope you’re right. I do.”

“We’re bringing her back alive. Got it?”

He nodded slowly and she gave him a half-smile. “Now, let me go pick something more appropriate for this gala we’re crashing.”

Sam led the way upstairs and to the master closet. “Anything except—“

“—green dresses, got it. Why green?”

“She favors those. So…sentimental…”

“Got it. No worries. Now shoo.”

“Chloe—“

“Shoo.”

Shaking his head, Sam walked out of their bedroom and back downstairs. It was as good a time as any to take a smoke break. He had a cigarette in his lips before he even reached for his lighter.

Cigarette lit, he stepped out onto the back porch and took a deep drag. It helped calm his nerves some. But he knew it wouldn’t be really good until he had her back in his arms.

In his front jeans pocket, his phone buzzed. He grabbed for it, not even bothering to look at the caller id before answering.

“Hello?”

“Oh, Sam, thank God you answered!”

“Sara? What’s going on?”

“I need you right now. He… he took our son!”

“Who? Jonathan?”

“Yes, yes, he took John. I’m so scared, Sam, I don’t… I don’t know what to do!”

“Who took him?”

“I don’t know… some guy… Ben something? I can’t remember. Sam, please, I need you. I can’t… he’s all I’ve got. Please, you have to help me get him back. He’s our son.”

“He leave a note? Anything?”

“Yes, yes it says ‘Tell Samuel he has 48 hours for progress or I kill one of them’. What is he talking about?”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm himself. To not panic. But damn was it hard.

“Sara, where are you right now?”

“Hotel where we’ve been staying. I’m scared, Sam. He’s my everything. I can’t lose him.”

“We’ll get them both back, I promise. Ben is really pushing heavy on this.”

“Who the fuck is Ben? Is that who took my baby?” she asked, a hint of panic very evident in her voice.

He sighed deeply. “Umm, ex-partner with a grudge. He stabbed Trina.”

“Samuel, please… I need your help. Do you really want to bury your son?”

His free hand was in a fist. He hit the wall, then his hand flattened out, the drywall cracking some. “No, I don’t want to bury anyone else. I’ll have Nathan meet you.”

“You’re not coming? It’s our son, Samuel! Our son!” she practically screeched.

“I have a lead. I can’t get to you for a few more hours. If I don’t get the next clues, I won’t be able to save either of them.”

“Either of them? Sam, what—“

“Trina’s alive,” he said quietly. “Ben has both Trina and John. Ok? I’d go to you but it’s the best lead forward I have and I’m running out of time. Just… send me the address and wait for Nathan, ok?”

“If anything happens to him, Sam—“

“I know. I’m gonna find a way to bring them both home.”

Unknown Location

Sara huffed and slapped her cell down on the table.

From the floor, her hands cuffed up over her head to a radiator, Trina glared at the other woman, a thick rag stuffed in her mouth and tied in place with another one as a gag. She’d woken up in the new hell hole a few hours ago. It was the second stop for them since they left the first mostly abandoned home. This one was furnished, while sparsely, and the windows were boarded and covered with sheets. She hadn’t seen anything aside from the living room and the bathroom yet.

“What are you looking at, whore?” Sara snapped at her.

Trina narrowed her eyes at the other woman. She had a litany of curses she’d love to unleash on Sam’s ex. None of them pleasant. All were well deserved.

“Ben, why the fuck does Sam think she’s still alive?”

The other man looked up from the couch. “What?”

“Why does Sam think she’s alive? There was a body to bury. Medical records and everything. Why would he think she’s alive—and that YOU have her?”

He sighed. “He wasn’t getting shit done moping around about her. So a quickie phone call, a bit of face to face, and now Samuel is cooperating again. What? I got results.”

“You went off book!”

He stood up. “I know you have jealousy issues but using her as bait gets results from Samuel. He doesn’t give two shits about you or your kid. He never has. I told you the kidnapping story was a stupid plan.”

“At least I have a plan!” she snapped.

Trina flinched at the resounding slap. She curled up tighter on the floor, pulling her knees up to block her face.

“You stupid bitch!”

Rafe’s hand hit her so hard it nearly knocked her off her feet. But he’d dug his nails into her shoulder and kept her standing.

“I’m sorry… I’ll do better…”

She hunched over some, shrinking into herself. He slammed her against the wall, his right hand around her throat. It drew a yelp which resulted in a gut punch that left her gasping for air.

“You fucking will or next time you’ll get more than a warning. Now, go clean up your mess.”

“I…I promise, Rafe. I’ll be better.”

“Is that all it takes to shut you up and cooperate?” Sara sneered, yanking on her hair. She cried out into the gag and tried to pull away from the other woman. “Just slap you around?”

The blonde’s slap with her clunky rings cut just under her right eye and stung her cheek.

Tears fell down her face, the gag muffling every sound. She tried again to pull her legs up for protection, only for Sara to grab her ankles and yank them down. Trina struggled but with the other woman sitting on her lower legs she couldn’t protect herself.

“Sara, what the fuck are you doing?”

“Making it clear who’s in charge.” She held Trina’s chin still in her viselike grasp. She knew the blonde was enjoying herself. She wanted to torture Trina, like how Rafe had. He was always looking for buttons to push. Reasons to hurt her. Sadistic, really.

“She’s already pretty banged up,” Ben said, standing a few feet away, watching with an unsure look.

“She doesn’t care. Do you, you little slut? I think you like it. Getting hit.”

Trina tried to shake her head no.

Sara turned it into a nod. “Yeah, you do. It gets you off.”

“Sara.”

“What?” she scowled at him.

“Stop it. Look, she’s bleeding again. Leave her alone. She’s half-dead already.”

Trina squeezed her eyes closed as the t-shirt dampened and darkened with her own blood. She’d been so caught up in the past she hadn’t noticed the stitches pulling at the skin.

“She’ll be fully dead soon. Remember our deal?”

“Yeah, well I need the Jewel first. And Samuel is our best chance at finding it. Sets us both up for life,” he reminded her, gently, his hand on Sara’s back. “Go meet with Nathan. I’ll clean her up before she bleeds everywhere.”

In a loud huff, Sara stormed out. Ben counted to five aloud before undoing the gag. Trina coughed, her throat dry from it.

“Don’t bother yelling,” he warned.

She nodded. Her voice would be too weak to make a difference anyway.

Chapter Text

Hotel Lobby

He walked through the entrance and toward the hotel bar. His hair was still wet from the shower and he was a bit out of breath from running from his parked Jeep. Which cost like $30 a day in the hotel parking garage so he’d settled for street parking down the block instead. He wasn’t rich like Sam after all.

Nate Drake took a moment to collect himself before approaching his brother’s ex who was already several drinks deep judging by the collection of glasses on the bar beside her. She looked up at him with a scowl. It didn’t help that she was dressed like a hooker. And definitely not one who aged well. She reeked of desperation and cheap perfume.

Okay then, I guess we’re doing this the hard way…

“Hey, Sam would’ve been here but—“

“But our son isn’t as important as some whore,” she snapped, downing a glass in a single gulp. 

“Look, I know you don’t like me much—“

“You’re the reason my son grew up without his father, Nathan. You left him in Panama. In prison. You should’ve been the one to die.”

He frowned. “Die? Sara, I’m not sure what—“

“If anything happens to my son, you’ll pay for it, I promise. Where is Sam? I need him!”

“He… he’s gonna get here when he can. Can you tell me anything? Where John was? Where you were? Any clues? How did Ben even know where to find you? That John is related to Sam?”

“I don’t fucking know! All I know is he’s gone, there’s a note, and I need Sam. He should be here with me!”

Nate shook his head. “He’s trying to get the folio. That’s what Ben wants. The folios and the Drake Jewel. If Sam can find those, he’ll let Trina and John go. Sam would be here if he could.”

Without warning, she backhanded Nate hard enough that the younger Drake was frozen as he tried to register what just happened. A few other patrons stopped to stare as well.

“Can we go talk somewhere more private? I’ll try and reach Sam. His phone might be off though.”

“I need Sam here. With me. Looking for our son. You wouldn’t know what it’s like. John is all I had of Sam for sixteen years! I’m not losing him because you came instead. This isn’t an errand—this is my SON!”

Museum of Culture

Chloe stretched out a long leg first as she got out of the car. Sam held her hand as she exited, looking nearly as fancy as anyone else there. He’d never seen her in anything besides jeans or pants and he had to admit she cleaned up well. No wonder Nate had a fling with her back in the day. An exotic beauty is what his younger self would’ve seen.

All he could see was the dark hair and tan skin which wasn’t the pale skin or red hair of his wife. It just reminded him of how alone he was. His wife should’ve been here. It should be Trina on his arm. They were a team.

Seeing Chloe only reminded him of what he’d lost. And what he needed to get back.

“Sam? Are you alright?” Chloe asked softly.

“Uh… umm… I don’t know.”

She patted his hand. “Follow my lead then.”

He nodded, letting her lead the way inside, the dark dress helping her blend in with the rest of the crowd. He was used to Trina standing out. But then again, he’d only had eyes for her since that day in Panama. His entire life had changed direction because of her. He’d gotten a life back.  

She swiped two flutes of champagne off a passing tray, handing him one. “A little liquid courage never hurts. To Trina. We’re getting her home, Sam. I promise.”

He nodded, clinking glasses, before tossing back the champagne. His hands were shaking. He needed a cigarette or twelve.

“We’ve got this, okay?”

“Yeah, I… I guess.”

“C’mon.”

She led the way deeper into the museum. There were several new exhibits here but only one mattered to them. They were in luck that the museum was only a few hours away and not in another country. And that enough money to the right people had secured two last minute tickets.

So few things had gone their way lately. Team Drake needed a win.

“Now, folios… those are just single sheets of paper yes?”

“Well, they’re actually—“

“Sam.” Chloe looked him in the eye, all business. “Yes or no.”

“Yes, but tec—“

“No, no technically. Single sheet of paper. Yes?”

He sighed. “Yes.”

“Now, you said the journal had pages torn out?”

He followed her room to room, glancing at the display cases, peering at signs, and scanning for anything that might be a clue or a note from Sir Francis Drake. Something, anything, that would give them a shot at saving Trina.

“Yeah, so anything with a torn edge is probably a good clue.”

“Uh huh,” the thief agreed. “Like that?”

She pointed at a yellowed loose page with slanted writing. It was so scribbled it seemed to be written in haste. Which made it curious. Sam stepped closer, scanning the document. “Okay, okay that’s definitely Drake’s handwriting, I just can’t quite make out—“

And Chloe already had the lock picked. “What about now?”

He took the paper from the thief’s hand and stared at it as she relocked the case. “Yeah, definitely Drake. I’ll have to compare it to the journal.”

“Well, that’s a start.” Chloe casually folded the folio and stuck it in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Hold onto that for me, will you?”

“That paper is—“

“Relax, Sam. I used the old fold lines. It’ll be fine. I mean, your brother loves writing on old documents!”

He made a face. “Yeah, well he’s not exactly the best person to follow with priceless artifacts since he usually destroys them.”

“Mmhm,” she muttered, already wandering off in search of more documents. He sighed loudly and followed her into another wing.

“Now this… this is promising,” she murmured as a few other people ahead of them examined a well-lit display case, with a banner hung overhead that proclaimed “Sir Francis Drake: Elizabethan Explorer”.

“And guarded,” he grumbled back, clocking no less than three security professionals surveying the room. Exactly the kind of attention they didn’t need.

“Well, then we’ll come back after lights out,” she suggested.

“We won’t have time for that, Chloe. We don’t have a lot of time.”

She sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to make our own darkness. Power room?”

“Basement. Old fuses, easy to overload. But we don’t know what security is in place. I mean, could be cameras, trip alarms…”

She put her hands on his shoulders, almost shaking him. “Sam, I’m nothing if not a professional. What I need from you is to go trip the power. That’ll give me enough time to get into at least one display. We just need to decide which one.”

He nodded, scanning the closest display. A few baubles, nothing spectacular. The next case was more of the same but featured a few more artifacts like an old compass beside a ship log. Interesting but not earth-shattering. 

The third case had a bell from one of Drake’s ships and some sketches and portraits of some of his crew. None of it stood out.

It was the fifth case before he really stopped. A torn piece of paper was the central focus with what looked like a partial map on it. And another paper he knew all too well. It was the folio he’d stolen. And beside it, a signet ring.

“Sam?” Chloe asked quietly.

“That… that’s not possible…”

“Sam?”

He pointed at the folio. “That–that’s the damn thing that got me into this mess.”

“That’s what he wants?”

“Yeah.”

He shook his head. How had he missed this? How had it landed in a museum almost twenty years later? What kind of a thief was he if he could miss this?

Maybe he deserved it. Maybe he was destined to be alone. To be a failure. Maybe he belonged in a Panamanian jail. Nate would be a better father to Henry than he was. Elena could be his mother. They could give him a real life. A family.

“Sam? Samuel?”

He stared at that paper. The little clue that had destroyed his life. He’d watched his wife bleed out in his arms over that damn thing.

“Sam,” the Australian hissed at him, her hand on his cheek. “Look at me. I need you to focus.”

He looked away from the folio to stare at his partner. “Yeah, yeah, I…”

“We’re so close here. This… this is how we get her home, okay? We’re getting Trina home. I just… I need you to hold it together for a little bit longer. Can you do that?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah… I… I can do it.”

“Good. Good. You’re sure there’s not like a third Drake brother out there somewhere, right?”

“Just the two of us.”

“Shame,” she said with a sigh. “Now, Sam… power. You’ll cut it, I’ll lift. We meet in the back hallway and make our way out. Simple. Quick. Professional."

"Right. In and out."

"See you on the other side," the Australian said with a cherry smile.

Unknown Location

Her skin itched under the drying blood and torn stitches. The pain reminded her she was alive, at least for the moment.

Sam's ex was insane. It was a matter of time before the blonde came at her again. Trina needed to be ready this time. She might not get a third chance.

First, she needed to get out of these cuffs.

Which would be a bit of a problem since she was attached to the radiator. There wasn’t much room for movement and she had zero leverage. And she was bone-tired. 

But Trina would get through it. She had to. She had to find a way out of here and back home to her family. To her son and Sam. She wasn’t going to wait for the psycho bitch to finish her off. If she was anything like her half-brother, she might just try to cut her throat while she slept. And she wasn’t waiting around for that.

I should have Chloe teach me how to pick locks…

Her green eyes focused on the cuffs, frowning. The mental rings bit into her skin and she could see the fresh bruises forming. Damn cuffs always left bruises on her stupid pale skin. It’s why Rafe liked them.

“Stop crying.”

She looked up, her hair loose and limp around her face. Rafe scowled down at her, dressed for another chilly day hunting that damn treasure. She tried to pull her legs in close to her body for warmth but the chain hooked to her right ankle went taunt, cutting into the deep purpling bruise that had formed around the joint. It didn’t help that she’d twisted the same ankle two days ago.

“Please, Rafe…”

“Stop sniveling.”

His eyes were hard and cold. This was the man she saw more and more every day. The frustrated and easily annoyed man, who, since he was denied again and again Avery’s treasure, took his rage out on staff and her. Usually while cursing Sam’s name.

He’d always been unpredictable. He could be gentle and sweet or crueler than a prison guard. His moods and temper were well known to everyone on staff and most of Shoreline. The mercenaries didn’t really give two shits. Even Nadine looked the other way most of the time. Everyone knew he beat her. No one cared. Except for Sam Drake.

“Please…”

She rattled the cuffs over her head, keeping her arms linked high on the headboard. She’d been stuck here for hours now. Trina had actually lost count. In fact, she’d lost count of pretty much everything since Sam left. Since the switch flipped in Rafe. There was no love or care anymore. It was all cruelty and anger. 

The bed dipped as he sat beside her, stroking her swollen cheek. She tried not to flinch but he’d left a bruise there last night across her cheek, just below her eye. She’d been lucky it was a slap and not a punch. 

“Trina, Trina, Trina. What am I going to do with you? Huh? So disobedient… I don’t like hurting you.”

“Please, just… can I at least shower? Something? Rafe…”

“Why should I do that? Huh? What’s it worth to me?”

He held her chin up, her face streaked with old tears. Most because of what he did. What he was still doing.

One of the straps of her dress was cut, a cut across her chest visible. She swallowed and winced, her throat bearing his fingerprints from their scuffle the other night? Week? She couldn’t remember. It all blurred together.

The dress was torn along the hem and twisted around her body. It was too thin to keep her warm here in Scotland, especially without blankets. Which of course Rafe denied her. He enjoyed watching her squirm. Even if it was just in her state of mostly undress. None of the people he employed would ever bother to enter their suite. It was all for him. He got to see her as a prize.

A trophy.

If he ever managed to get Avery’s treasure, he’d probably put it on a shelf, then kill her and stick her on the same shelf. Trophies. Achievements. Victories.

“I…I won’t fight. I won’t…”

“And?” Her husband asked, waiting.

“I’ll make it up to you. Anything you want… I’ll do it.”

There was a ratcheting sound as he undid the cuffs on her wrists. “That’s all I wanted, darling. I don’t like hurting you.”

He kissed her wrists and she flinched, partially because of the bruises, but also because he wasn’t Sam. He would never be Sam. And it killed her on the inside. No one else would notice or care when Rafe finally tired of her and killed her. Only Sam would’ve. And he was gone. 

Trina was sick of cowering. Of being a victim. She’d been Rafe’s victim for years. Then Asav’s prisoner and punching bag trying to keep Sam alive. She wasn’t going to die chained here like a dog. 

She tugged on her left hand. It was a hair skinner than her right one thanks to chipping the bones as a kid.

This is going to hurt…

Museum of Culture

Power rooms all looked the same after a while. Plus there were only so many places one could squeeze utilities and they were rarely guarded. No, the priority was always the entrances, exits, and actual artifacts. But it made his job simple.

Taking a deep breath, Sam plunged the museum into darkness and slipped out of the room.

He counted to himself as he headed back to the main wing of the museum. He could hear the panic of the crowd and the chatter between staff along with the muted squawks of radios. Pure chaos.

Just how he liked it.

Trina was the actress, not him, but he could easily play along with the punchy crowd.

Then the generators kicked in and a loud sigh passed around. Relief from the other patrons of the arts, especially once he saw them clocking their own jewelry.

It hadn’t occurred to him to swipe baubles in the blackout. Before Trina he probably would’ve lifted a few things. Just because he could. But now all he cared about was her. About getting her away from Ben. Bringing her home safe. That’s all he wanted anymore.

He’d found Avery’s treasure. And his own. And there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do or risk for his family.

Hotel

After her outburst, they’d retreated upstairs to the hotel room she’d been sharing with her son. It was strewn with her clothes and cosmetics. Hardly anything seemed to belong to the teenager.

The truth was that her mess obscured any clues there might have been.  

But Nate did manage to get the note from her.

Basic typed note, which indicated planning, but not much else. Simple and straight forward.

If you want him back, bring me what’s mine. Or he dies.

No names. No specifics. No contacts.

It was weird for a ransom note but nothing about this situation was normal. And Nate supposed he should be more upset about his innocent nephew in harm’s way, especially after watching Ben plunge a knife into Trina. But he couldn’t think of the teen as family.

When he thought nephew, he automatically thought about Henry.

Sure, Sam believed John was his son. He had to. Why would Sara lie? What would she gain from it? It just all seemed too unbelievable to him.

He wasn’t the investigator, not the way Elena was, but it still tore at him. It was too much of a stretch.

He shot off a text to his wife. Are we sure John is Sam’s? Trina get results?

He hoped he was wrong. He hoped that it was all a coincidence. Otherwise there was really sinister shit going on. And he fully expected Sara to be involved. But why? What did she have to gain? And what kind of mother would put her son in harm’s way?

He fired off a text to Sam. No signs of struggle. Basic note. She’s drunk. How far out are you?

Unknown Location

It was a sickening sound, the bit of a crack.

Tears welled in her eyes and she bit her tongue to keep from screaming.

But Trina slipped her bloodied left hand from the cuffs all the same. She curled it into her chest for support as her right hand slowly came down, the cuffs still locked on her right wrist, but no longer run through the radiator. She was free.

Blood roared in her ears and her heart raced.

I’m… I’m free…

She shook her right wrist some, willing the feeling back into it. She’d only get one shot at this and it needed to count.

The front door was fifteen feet away. It only had a regular lock and deadbolt. No chains. No extra locks. Simple. Easy.

Trina flexed her ankles and legs. She didn’t have shoes, only socks and leggings. This was likely going to hurt but it was worth it. The risk was worth it. She was going home.

She curled the fingers on her left hand into her shirt, helping secure her injured wrist.

I’m coming, Sam…

A glance over her shoulder confirmed she was alone in the living room. Carefully, she drew herself up into a standing position, still sticking close to the radiator, just in case. She didn’t want to give herself away.

One… two… go…

She crossed the living room easily, throwing the deadbolt back and twisting open the doorknob. Easy. God, it was so easy.

Trina stepped into a hallway. An apartment building?

She ran for the stairs and took them down and around and around. It was dizzying but she wasn’t about to risk stopping. To try and find help. She needed to put as much space between herself and her captor as she could. Then she’d find help.

She’d find Sam.

She’d go home.

She tumbled a bit into the foyer. She hissed in pain as she caught herself on the wall, nearly falling flat on her face. She wobbled but made it to the front door. She pushed it open and stepped into fresh air.

Freedom.

Then a hand covered her mouth and a gun pressed into her spine.

“Fight me and you’ll die right here…” Ben snarled into her ear. “No one will save you. You’ll bleed out here, alone. And I’ll never tell Samuel where to find your body.”

Tears escaped down her cheeks and her heart sunk into her feet.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t risk it.

He was deranged after all. He’d fucking stabbed her for no reason in her own home, with Sam and Nate just inches away and helpless. He’d do it. He’d shoot her and watch her die. And he’d string Sam along for as long as he wanted. And he’d never have closure.

It would destroy Sam. Never knowing if she were alive or dead. Never finding her.

She didn’t resist as he turned her around and pushed her back inside the building. Back to captivity.

Chapter Text

Nate & Elena's 

With a quick glance again at her husband’s message, Elena switched into reporter mode. Since Trina’s stabbing and abduction, they'd barely been treading water. They were in reaction mode, not action. But it was time to change that.

Trina had sent in extra tests. Sam hadn’t asked for them. In fact, Elena knew he'd never challenge paternity. He'd rather be there than risk alienating his son. To question it could put a wedge between him and the teen.

But Elena would question it. Someone had to even if it was simply to protect Sam from his own heart.

If John wasn't a Drake, then Sara was either lying or she truly did think Sam was his father. If the results were faked–something sketchy was happening. And sketchy was her specialty.

She hated when anyone was taken advantage of, especially her family.  Sam had just lost his wife. He was vulnerable. He'd cling to the idea of an older son. He wouldn't question it. Not like he should.

Both Sam’s ex-partner and his ex-girlfriend had turned up surprisingly close in time. One with a supposed son while the other intended Sam harm in exchange for stolen documents. Which led to Trina’s stabbing.

No, her instincts screamed Sara was involved. And if she was, Elena had no sympathy for what the blonde would suffer from Sam’s wrath. 

Trina was family. So was Sam. While Nate's lies had certainly colored her introduction to the pair, she never held it against them. She never would.

In her phone she found the lawyer's number. Trina and Sam’s lawyer. Elena dialed as she reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

"Hi, my name's Elena Fisher. My sister-in-law Trina Drake–"

"Oh, Ms. Fisher, of course," the cheery female assistant said on the other end of the line. "I see Mrs. Drake put on you on the approved list. I'll transfer you."

"Oh. I–" That was unexpected… I guess Trina’s name has more power than I imagined…or was this all Rafe’s name?

A few clicks and then a male voice said, "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Fisher. My name is Stewart Truman. How can I help you today?"

"Hi, I was calling to see if the results came back yet from the paternity tests Trina asked for."

"Yes, yes, let me pull those up. You should have a copy that was mailed to your address as well. Mrs. Drake was very insistent about that. She wanted you and Nathan copied."

"She did?"

"Yes, it's actually rather unusual, her requests, but from what I know her circumstances are rather uncommon. She has asked that any information we would normally share just with her is also made available to you Ms. Fisher and your husband. As well as Samuel, though I have been warned he is not good at answering his phone."

"I do appreciate that. What were the results?"

"Negative. The child named Johnathan Drake is 100% not genetically related to Samuel Drake. Even their blood types are incompatible."

Elena took a deep breath. "So there is absolutely no way that Sam is Johnathan's father?"

"None. It's not possible."

"Thank you. I really do appreciate that."

"Of course. Give Mrs. Drake a hello from me."

"I will."

She texted Nate. Sam IS NOT his father! Not genetically possible. Be careful!

Sara lied.

But why?

Hotel

Nathan glanced down at his phone and saw his wife’s message. Damnit…

“Is that Sam?” Sara asked, looking up.

“No, not yet. It might be a bit.”

He fired out off a quick text. Always am.

“Where is Sam?”

“Um, not sure exactly. He’s trying to get this folio Ben wants. I guess… taking Trina wasn’t moving things fast enough for him. How long ago did you see John? Like an hour? Two?”

“Around four? He went to go grab food and I had to run an errand. Note was sitting on the bed when I got back. His phone’s off,” Sara said, seeming calmer at the moment. Maybe all the alcohol had finally kicked in and she was too buzzed to care.

“So it’s not been too long. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“What makes you say that? Didn’t he kill her?”

“Trina? I mean… he stabbed her. Umm, but she’s alive. Sam… Sam saw her alive on video. There’s no reason to hurt John, I mean, he’s a kid!”

His brother’s ex nodded. “Right, I just… he’s all I’ve got, Nate.”

“Yeah… I know what that’s like. I do. We’ll get him home. Just… we’ll wait to hear from Sam, okay?”

Nate and Elena’s

Elena sat at the kitchen table with her laptop. “Hey, Sully?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

“Did you know Sara? Before?”

“Before Panama?”

“Yeah.”

The older man shook his head. “No, never even heard of her till she showed up. Look, Sam is a complicated man. He’s not like Nate. I’ve always been a love ‘em and leave ‘em wanting more type. Sam… relationships weren’t his thing. Neither were one nighters. He was all over the place and things got messy often. I never bothered to learn names and he never shared ‘em.”

“So the Sam before Panama…”

“Not the Sam that is head over heels for Trina.”

She nodded. “So Sara is probably crazy. Okay.”

“Why? What’d you find out?”

Elena sighed. “He’s not Sam’s. Um, Johnathan. Sara lied. Sam told me she had DNA proof. I talked to Trina and Sam’s lawyer. There’s zero chance he’s Sam’s. They ran a lot of tests and even the blood types aren’t compatible. I just… I can’t wrap my head around why she’d lie.”

“Maybe she thinks he’d be a better father.”

“I don’t know, Sully. I just… I have this feeling that she’s involved in everything. Trina’s stabbing included.”

He poured himself a glass of scotch and took a sip. “If that’s true... we need to be careful.”

“I know. I told Nate about the results. I’m worried what she’ll do to Sam. How far she’ll go.”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Scorned? Sam went to prison…”

“Then she thought he was dead, turns out he’s not, oh and he’s married… I could see being a bit scorned from that. At least, from her point of view.”

“Devil’s advocate today, Sully?”

The older man shrugged. “I’ve been around the block a few times. And had more than one lady royally pissed at me. It’s the benefit of experience.”

She nodded, looking at him. It was one of the things she always liked about the older gentleman. He never really sugar-coated things and was more than willing to admit he’d messed up. He tried to do his best, especially when it came to keeping Nate out of trouble.

“Thanks, Sully. Oh, Henry should be up any minute now—“

“I got ‘em. You keep going, darlin’. I see you churning. You’re too smart for him. I’ll never understand it.”

She laughed. “Oh, he knows I’m out of his league. But we’re a team.”

“Well, go get ‘em, tiger.” He patted her back and headed upstairs at the same time Henry began to fuss on the monitor.

Elena flipped through the file the PI had compiled. Mr. Truman had sent it over immediately after she called. It was fairly complete from what she could see and full of red flags.

Trina, you had no idea who she was, did you?

Sara Stevens was her legal name. She had a current passport and spent most of her time in or near Panama. Except for a time when she frequently was in Scotland.

Times she checked against a calendar. Which lined up with before Sam’s return - there was overlap with Rafe, Trina, and Sam.

Why would Sara be in Scotland?

And why was it near Trina?

She dug deeper. Pulled everything she could find on Trina and Rafe. Part of the story was missing. She just wasn't sure what it was.

Madagascar 

During the Expedition 

She looked up from her camera to glance at her sister-in-law. “Are you ok, Trina?”

The redhead looked up. “What?”

“You just seem… distant. Everything ok with Sam?”

“Yeah, no, we're fine, just…thoughts.”

“Well if you ever want to talk…”

“Thanks, Elena. Just… lots of Rafe swirling around.”

She nodded. “I can finish up–”

“No, it helps. Especially with Sam helping Nate. The distraction is good.”

“How did you put up with him for so long? Rafe.”

Trina shrugged, tracing the carving on a box intently. “I loved him. And I still saw glimpses of the man I loved in there. Until I didn't. By then I had Sam. And it all ended here.”

“Nate told me about the cliff. Or at least what he saw.”

“When Sam took a bullet. That broke me. And Rafe…snapped. Lost it. There was no love left.”

She nodded, watching the other woman take a few shaky breaths. She'd seen it all before - the advantage of being a war correspondent. She'd dealt with plenty of people in shock. Stressed. Traumatized. And she could see it in Trina. 

She suspected it was part of what drew Sam to her. They were both damaged and hurting. Together they were strong. Partners, like her and Nate.

“Rafe snapped before then. He nearly killed me not long after Sam stole the cross. He attacked me. I ran. He ended up throwing me down the stairs.”

“Oh… Trina…”

“Sam… I never told him but that's how I lost our baby. Mine and Sam’s. Bled out in the foyer. I'd just been to the doctor that afternoon to confirm.”

“And Rafe?”

“Furious. He knew I miscarried but he had no idea it was Sam’s. We still… now and then. Not like I could refuse.”

“He raped you, Trina.”

She nodded. “Multiple times. I didn't realize how badly until Sam. Till I knew how good it could be. To be in real love. Sometimes he drives me crazy and I want to wring his neck but there's no one else I want at my side. Who I trust to have my back.”

“A partner.”

Trina nodded. “Rafe could never. He needed to be the focus. No equals. No teams.”

“Well that worked out so well for him.”

She watched Trina slump some.

“Trina… what happened on the Fancy? What really happened? Nate didn't say much just that Rafe died, Sam was hurt–”

“I killed Rafe. He'd strangled me. I woke up and he was fighting Nate. And he had him cornered and all I could think about was my baby… and everything he'd done to me, to Sam… I couldn't let him live.”

“So it wasn't Nate.”

Her sister-in-law shook her head. “There was a dagger. Full of jewels… I stabbed him twice in the back, once in the chest. He was crazed. Gone.”

“You were protecting yourself. Protecting Nate. Protecting Sam.”

“I still killed him. I loved him and I killed him.”

“You didn't have a choice. It was self-defense. For you, Sam, and Nate.”

Trina shook her head. “His blood is on my hands, Elena.”

“You did what you had to survive. Don't be sorry for that. Like you said, the Rafe you knew was gone.”

The redhead nodded but she could still see the pain. Her sister-in-law was very empathetic and had a big heart. And it always amused her to watch Trina and Sam who were basically horny teenagers. 

“I keep expecting to see that damn dagger.”

“If you see it, let me know. We'll take care of it.”

“We?”

“Nate and I. My husband is alive. Rafe would've killed him.”

“Thanks, Elena. All I know is it wasn't recovered with Rafe’s body.”

Nate & Elena's 

Present

Her sister-in-law didn't really exist before Rafe. Which didn't surprise her. Trina didn't come from money and really didn't talk about her past much. She knew her parents had both passed. No siblings.

A perfect target for Rafe.

There was speculation that he was involved in his parents’ deaths. Nothing proven though since his father had a heart attack and his mother a stroke not long after. Trina didn't mention them and likely never met them.

Rafe liked to parade her around. There were hundreds of photographs of the pair, usually with Trina dripping in jewelry and designer gowns. Very rarely was she in green which Elena saw her wear most days. No, Mrs. Rafe Adler wore lots of black and red. It was very “look at me”.

This porcelain doll in photographs wasn't the redhead shrieking and squealing when Sam snuck up and tickled her mercilessly. They were two very different women. The woman who married Rafe died on the island. The real Trina was the one with Sam.

But sure enough Sara Stevens’ travel record matched Rafe's. They were in Scotland together.

One of the dates matched a news article announcing the engagement of Trina and Rafe. 

She sent a text to Nate. Did Sara know Rafe?

There was no way this was a coincidence.

Her phone buzzed. I think so. Why?

She was in Scotland when Trina got engaged. And again at least 5 times. Before that she rarely left Panama.

It took a moment for his reply. Related? Cousins?

Elena frowned. Then she put pictures of Rafe and the blonde side by side. 

“Damnit.”

There was a resemblance.

I don't think cousins… I think siblings.

He's an only child!

It would fit. It's not just about Sam–if Sara is Rafe’s sister… she wants Trina dead. Nate, be careful.

We'll get her home. Love you.

Elena sighed. “Sully? Nadine? We have a big problem…”

Chapter Text

Unknown Location

Ben threw her toward the couch and she twisted, trying to protect her face and her wounded arm. She ended up rolling onto the floor instead. She cried out and hated how weak she sounded.

"You stupid cunt. Do you have a death wish?"

Trina glanced up, sitting up on the floor slowly. "All you have to do is let me go. She won't know."

He scoffed. "You have no idea how deep you're in, do you?"

"I have a family, Ben. I have a son. You can't blame me for trying to get back to him. To my husband and my son."

"I will kill you if you try to run again. I’m out of patience with you. Samuel will just have to get over it.”

She stood up, trying to appear as strong as she felt, despite being almost a full foot shorter. "Go ahead. Kill me. Because I'm not gonna stop. I'm going home. You don't scare me."

He aimed the gun at her head. "You sure?"

"Shoot me. I dare you."

Ben scowled and went to step closer when a phone rang. Her phone. It was Sam’s ringtone. Tears filled her eyes automatically. No, no, hold it together, damnit, you were almost out…

"Samuel. Did you call to watch your wife die?"

"Trina?! If you hurt her, you son of a bitch, I'll burn this fucking folio to ash!"

"Sam! Sam!"

She tried to look at the phone only to get smacked. She cried out more in surprise than pain and she heard Sam calling for her and cursing on the other end.

"Sit your ass down!" snarled her kidnapper and she slowly sank into the couch, cradling her left arm to her chest. She’d broken a bone in her wrist to squeeze out of her cuffs. And now the pain was setting in. And it fucking burned.

“Let me see her!”

Trina took a deep breath before she got a look at her husband’s worried face on the screen. “Sam…”

“Trin, baby, are you hurt?”

“Just… just my wrist. It’s broken.”

“Broken? You know what, maybe I will just burn this fucker to ash anyways. I told you not to touch her!”

“Sam, I—I broke it. The cuffs…”

She held up her other arm, letting him see the bruising and dried blood. To see the other half of the cuffs hanging from her bloodied right wrist. She could see the understanding in his face. That he knew she felt trapped. That it all led back to Rafe.

He nodded. “It’s okay, baby. It’s okay…”

“Moving on,” Ben said, steering the conversation. “The folio, Samuel.”

“Right here, asshole.”

She could see him hold up a piece of parchment. It didn’t look special to her but it excited her captor.

“Good. It’s about damned time. But we have a slight problem, don’t we, princess? You see someone is a regular escape artist and isn’t listening to reason or rules, are you?” He sat down beside her and gripped her chin with one hand. “I almost shot her in the fucking head a few minutes ago, Samuel.”

“Trin, baby…”

“I had to try, Sam. I had to.”

“Yes, yes, well, it’s a problem. Can’t have you running off when we’re getting close. Unless you want me to stab you again.”

“No! No! Stop it! Oww! Sam!”

She struggled as he dug his nails into her skin before twisting her injured wrist. She couldn’t help it. She screamed.

Outside the Museum

It hurt Sam to see her like this. She was upset and agitated in a manner he rarely saw. She'd been good at staying composed around Rafe except for toward the end there and also once Asav led her away, supposedly leaving him, Chloe, and Nadine to drown.

The switch had flipped in his petite wife and she turned into a shrieking, squirming hellcat with a single minded focus. Usually it was triggered by threatening him. She was at her most dangerous then. 

The Trina he saw on the phone right now was terrified. Fighting on instinct. This was the version of his wife that woke up crying some nights. The one haunted by what Rafe did to her. 

The battered wife. 

But he knew she was more than that. He just had to remind her of that.

“Trin, babe…” He looked at her, at the fear in those emerald eyes of hers. The pain.

“Sam…”

“Hey, hey, hey, we’re gonna get through this. Okay? Chloe and I found the folio. We found it. I’m gonna get you home. We are going home. I just… I need you to be strong. For me. For Henry. Trin, baby, I know you can do this.”

She sniffled but seemed to be settling down. Getting stronger. The badass woman he married. 

“I can’t…”

“Baby, I know you can. Please… I’m gonna see you real soon. I love you. Sic Parvis Magna, Trin.”

“Touching,” his former partner snarled. “Now, if she runs again, Samuel, I will shoot her.”

“Let’s meet. I have the folio. You want it, I want Trina.”

Hotel

“Yeah? Hey, Sam,” Nate said, picking up his phone. Sam wasn’t much for texting.

Immediately, Sara perked up and moved almost into his lap. He shifted some to get some space. “Hey, woah, slow down a bit. He said what?”

“He almost shot her, Nate! Goddamnit, I almost lost her…”

“Look, we’re gonna fix this. Did you—“

“Chloe snagged some stuff. I need your Drake brain, little brother. I can’t make out this chicken scratch of his.”

Nate nodded, getting up to pace as Sara scoffed loudly.

“Samuel, we need to talk!” she called in the background.

He heard Sam sigh. “Look, we’ll meet you back at yours in like…”

“Two and a half hours,” Chloe added.

“Yeah, what she said. Tell Sara I’m meeting him tomorrow. And hopefully I’ll get to bring them both home.”

“Yeah, sounds good. See you soon.”

He tucked the phone back into his jeans pocket. “They’re on their way back. He’s meeting Ben tomorrow. He thinks he’ll get to bring John home then, but that’s all he’s got.”

“Get him back on the phone. I need to talk to Samuel.”

He shook his head. “Sara, he’s just as worried as you are. There’s nothing he can do right now. We’ve only got a few hours to get this all sorted out. If we blow this meet, John could get hurt. Just… stay put for now and Sam’ll call you when we have an update.”

He reached for the hotel room door. He couldn’t get away from her crazy fast enough. Yeah, Sam had been a bit of a player when he was younger but Sara had always rubbed him the wrong way. But after what Elena told him, he couldn’t leave fast enough.

“That’s not good enough, Nathan. And I’m really tired of playing games with you.”

“What—“

Nate looked down at the sudden pain in his side. There was a knife there. And Sara was holding it.

“Good-bye, Nathan Drake.”

With his hand on the hilt, he slumped to the floor, his blood trickling over his hands and onto the carpet. He was too stunned to speak as she stood over him with a smile that could blind you.

“God, I’ve been waiting over seventeen years for this…” Sara said as he felt the darkness pull him under.

Chapter Text

Nate & Elena’s

Elena glanced up from her research to pick up her cell. “Hey, Sam. No, Nate’s not here…”

“He was on his way when we talked about twenty minutes ago… you sure he’s not there?”

“I think I’d know if Nate had walked in. I can see the front door.”

She heard Sam sigh. “Look, um, can you have Nadine go check on him? I’ll text her the address.”

“Sam, what’s going on?”

“I just… I need my brother and Sara can be—“

“Wait, he’s still with Sara?”

She got up from the table and grabbed her jacket. “Nadine? Sully?” she called up the stairs.

“Elena, what do you know about Sara?”

“Sam, if Nate’s still with her, he could be hurt. She’s dangerous.”

“How? What?”

Nadine appeared with a gun in her hand. “You ok?” the other woman asked.

“We need to go find Nate. He’s in trouble. Can Sully watch Henry?”

“Elena?” Sam called in her ear.

“Ja,” she agreed. “Sullivan! You’re babysitting!”

“What?” Sully called back.

“Babysitting! We’ve gotta go find a Drake.”

“Elena! What did Sara do?” Sam sounded panicked as she followed Nadine out to the car.

“Send the address first,” she said.

“Okay, okay… umm… there.”

The ex-mercenary checked her phone when it buzzed and entered it on GPS after she started the rental car. “Got it. ETA ten minutes.”

“Elena?”

She took a breath, her heart racing. “Sam, I wasn’t sure how to tell you, but first John’s not your son. She lied. I’ll show you the results later. I just… you need to know that first.”

She heard him take a deep breath. “So… I don’t… I didn’t abandon my son.”

“You didn’t. He’s not yours. I’m sorry, Sam.”

“No, it’s okay… it’s okay.”

“How did Sara know Rafe?”

“What?”

“Nate said she introduced you to him?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I’d forgotten that. She knew we were hunting Avery and money was tight so she said she had a friend in the antiquities trade.”

“But you don’t know how they met.”

“I mean, I figured maybe they were exes?”

“And Trina… Trina didn’t know her?”

“No, no she didn’t. Why? What’s going on?”

“Sam… she was in Scotland. A lot. The times matched up with Trina and Rafe.”

“So they had an affair. Maybe he’s John’s father.”

Elena sighed. “Sam, it’s worse than that. I think they’re siblings.”

Her brother-in-law laughed. “Siblings? Rafe and Sara? No… no… Rafe’d have killed me for fucking his sister, I mean shit, he was furious when he found out about me and Trina—“

“I told Nate. I texted him.”

A horn blared as Nadine took a tight turn.

“Fuck.”

“My gut says she’s involved in this whole thing. If she’s Rafe’s sister, she’d have good reasons to want Trina dead.”

“I… let me know when you get Nate. We’re gonna be back as soon as possible. I don’t have long before I meet Ben. Be careful, sis.”

Ten Minutes Later

There was a knock at the front door. He frowned, everyone had keys and pretty much everyone knew there was essentially an open-door policy at Nate’s—they all just let themselves in, even Chloe.

“Sara? What are you doin’ here?” Sully held open the front door, confused. 

“I need to see Sam. Is he here?”

“No, he's not back yet—hey, where's Nate–”

A gun appeared in his face. He slowly raised his hands out of habit. Boy was he sick of having guns pointed at himself. “Sara, don't–”

“Don't tell me what to do, old man. I'm sick of listening to men who think they know what's best for me. They don't. Where is Samuel?”

“He's on his way back. It's a haul.”

“Not fast enough.” She stepped further inside, waving the gun at him to force him back. He obliged. 

“If you put the gun down–”

“That's not happening.”

“What can I do to help you?” he asked.

The blonde snorted, just as haughty as he remembered. But she seemed edgier than usual. “Where's the kid?”

“The kid?”

“Trina's brat. Where is it?”

“Henry? No, you're not hurting my grandson.”

He was just a baby. Not to mention Sam and Trina would never forgive him. He’d never forgive himself either if this crazy bitch hurt his grandkid.

“I'd never hurt him… he's my son's brother. What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“The kind who eats her own young.”

He got a crack on the head from the pistol for that remark but luckily he had a thick skull.

“I wouldn't hurt a baby.”

“You're not going near him.”

“It's sweet that you think you can stop me,” she said in that sugary sweet voice. It was meant to be honey but it was nothing but sour to his ears. 

“I don't hit ladies, but then you aren't a lady, are ya?”

“You're exhausting, Sullivan. Must be where Nathan got it.”

“Whaddya mean ‘got’? You hurt my kid?” Alarm bells went off in his head. And he instantly could see the pain on Elena’s face and the devastation on Sam’s. The shock on Trina’s. No, Nate couldn’t be dead. After everything he’d survived, he refused to believe Sam’s psycho ex ended Nathan Drake.

“You're not their father. You never were,” she scoffed.

“Those boys are the best things I've done in my life. And the girls… I couldn't be prouder. They're my kids, all four of ‘em. And if you hurt any of ‘em–”

“You'll what, Victor? Kill me? I've heard it before.”

Before he could react, she hit him again with the gun in the head and snapped a pair of hand cuffs on his wrists, linking him to the stairs. “You're going to deliver a message for me.”

“What message?”

“Tell Samuel I'm done being ignored.”

She walked up the stairs as he tried to assess the cuffs and his current situation. He really didn't want to break Nathan's bannister but he would. There was no need. He was too late.

She returned carrying Henry with a diaper bag over her shoulder. His grandson was crying, fat tears rolling down his cheeks. He’d been asleep. 

“He was supposed to be mine, Victor. And if I can't have him, and I can't have my son, well, then he can't have his.”

Henry wailed, no longer just upset, but scared. He was normally a pretty happy baby, even with all the chaos and Chloe and Nadine joining the group. But the kid knew this wasn’t one of his family or his extended “aunties” as Chloe had christened them. He was smart.

“Hey, kiddo, it's gonna be ok. Smile for grandpa?” 

“Mama…” was the plaintive cry he got instead. There'd been a lot more looking for Trina lately. And tantrums when he couldn't find her. 

“Soon, bud. Mama be back soon.”

“Wave bye to grandpa,” she said, mockingly waving at him as Henry fussed and called for Trina again.

Hotel

They breezed past the front desk and into the main hallway.

“Got a room number?” Nadine asked.

“No… wait. I'll call Nate's phone. He always has the ringer on.”

“‘Course he does.”

Elena dialed his number and they went room by room listening. They didn’t hear anything until the second floor. 

“There! Nate?!”

Nadine gave the door a solid kick and they were in while his phone continued to ring. And crumpled on the floor was her husband.

“Nate?”

She turned him over and saw the knife sticking out of his gut. “Oh God, Nate… hey, hey…”

“Still alive,” Nadine said, taking his pulse. “Good thing we got here when we did.” 

“Oh, Nate… stay with me…”

Unknown Location

About Thirty Minutes Later

The apartment door opened. Trina didn’t bother to look up. There was no point. In a few hours, this would hopefully be all over. Sam had the folio. That’s what her captor wanted.

“Where have you been?” Ben snapped.

“Had to deliver a message,” a female responded. Sara. That fucking bitch.

Trina immediately jumped to her feet, hearing the familiar cries alongside her. No, no, no…

“Henry?! You fucking bitch!”

Ben held her back by her hair and injured wrist. She still struggled as her son cried louder, clearly recognizing her voice. It broke her heart. He needed her. He was just a baby. Just a little baby. And he should be at home with Sam, Elena, Nate, and Sully. His family. Not here in her hell.

“What the fuck, Sara? You took the kid? That wasn't part of the plan.”

“Oh, Ben, you have no sense of drama.”

“Mama, mama, mama!”

“Let me go! That's my son! Let me see my son!” Trina yelled.

Ben cuffed her upside the head and sent her sprawling toward the floor. She rolled a bit to avoid hitting her head on the ground. Henry made hiccupy sobs and it pulled tears from her eyes. She needed her son. He needed her. Sam was going to lose his mind.

She dashed across the room to yank Henry out of the blonde's arms, elbowing her in the face in the process. She knew she’d never make it far enough away on foot. Ben had proven that earlier. All she could do was protect her baby. And damnit, she’d protect him.

“Mama!”

“Mama's got you, baby. Oh my sweet boy.” She kissed his cheek and forehead as he burrowed into her, his tiny fists clinging into her shirt. It made her smile. It’s how she liked to cling to Sam. She breathed in the scent of baby shampoo as she held her son for the first time in too long.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” Sara hissed. “You almost broke my nose!”

“You kidnapped my son!”

“What's all the shouting?” a male voice called from behind them. Trina clutched Henry tight to her chest even with her broken wrist at the unfamiliar voice. She wasn’t letting anyone else near him. They’d pry Henry from her cold, dead fingers first.

“John,” Sara said with a smile. “I brought your little brother to meet you.”

“All of you better stay away from my son, you fucking psychos! What did you do to my family? Did you hurt them? Elena? Nate? Sully?”

“Nathan Drake is no more,” Sara said with a smile. “Only seventeen years later than he should've died.”

She rubbed Henry’s back as he rubbed his face against her shirt, still sniffling and upset but settling down faster than she could’ve hoped. “You… you and Rafe set him up to die? But Sam–”

“It was supposed to be Nate. Rafe had one job and he fucked it up.”

“And you stayed in Panama to raise John,” Trina stated.

“For most of it. Came to my brother's engagement party of course.”

“I don't remember meeting you. I'd remember you.” You fucking psycho bitch.

“Oh I told Rafe I had no interest in meeting his hooker. I told him you were trouble.”

“God, Sam is gonna kill you.”

“You're Trina? He told me about you… that you died,” John said. The teen looked nothing like her husband really other than longish dark hair. She didn't have the heart to tell him the truth. Not when she had Henry to protect. 

“Yeah… because that fucker stabbed me,” she said, glaring at Ben. “Now, if either of you tries to touch my son we're gonna have a problem.”

“Put the kid down,” Sara hissed, aiming a pistol at her.

“You'll have to kill me. I'm not letting either of you near him. Over my dead body!”

John moved between her and Sara. “Mom, chill. They're not going anywhere. I wanna meet my little brother but not like this.”

Henry was calling her again, burrowed in her shirt. She kissed the top of his head. “Mama's got you, baby. Mama's here.”

Trina stepped further back in the apartment, putting more distance between her and the others. She’d been prepared to die to protect Henry several times and she would gladly trade her life for his. Or Sam’s. Even though she knew losing her would destroy him, there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for her family. Especially since Rafe would’ve killed her by now. She’d lived longer than she should’ve thanks to Sam.

“John, now’s not the time,” Sara said, stepping toward them, still holding the gun. “Put the kid down or he’ll be wearing your blood.”

Trina shook her head. “Never. Go ahead. Kill me. I know you’ve been waiting to do it.”

“Enough!” Ben roared, wrestling the gun out of Sara’s hand. “I won’t have any of you fucking up this deal. Trina, keep that kid calm and he can stay with you. John, I need you to help cuff her to the radiator. Ankle’s fine. There’s a long chain in the top of the green suitcase.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Sara hissed.

Her captor gave her a glare that caused the blonde to recoil. “If you blow this deal, I’ll blow out your brains. Got it? She’s got less than twelve hours. Once I have the folio, you can do whatever you want to her. I don’t care. Until then… let her have the kid. Got it?”

“Then I kill her.”

“Then I don’t care. That’ll be between you and Sam Drake,” Ben said. “Understand?”

“Oh, perfectly. I can wait twelve hours,” the blonde said with a sadistic smile. “I waited seventeen years to kill Nathan Drake after all.”

Twelve hours. She had twelve hours left. Twelve hours to make sure Henry got back safely to his family even if she didn’t.

She kissed the top of her son’s head again. He’d spend the next twelve hours getting all the love she had. It would never be enough time, but she knew Sam would tell him how much she loved him. And hopefully he’d remember her, even if it was just a feeling now and then.

“Mama loves you,” she said to him softly. “We’ll get you back to daddy soon.”

“Mama,” he whimpered into her shirt and she felt her heart break into a million pieces.

Chapter Text

Sam’s phone rang, Nadine’s name flashing on screen. He put it on speaker.

“Did you find him?”

“Ja, but it's not good,” the ex-merc said. “Seems your ex stabbed him. Left him to bleed out. He's in surgery. Elena's…well you can imagine.”

“We'll stop and grab Sully and Henry from the house. We're almost back… damnit, I can't believe she'd do this. It doesn't make any sense!”

“The doctors seem to think he'll pull through. Plenty of scar tissue. But she's dangerous. If she'd stab Nathan–”

“—then she's capable of anything,” he finished. “I'll feel better when we're back in New Orleans. We got about 10 hours before I meet with Ben.”

“See you soon, love,” Chloe added. 

The call ended. He leaned back in his seat with a sigh.

“Sam? Whatcha thinking?”

“Oh, well, let's see. First I get my wife stabbed, then she's abducted for ransom, think I have a teenage son but he's not mine, then my ex stabs my brother…”

“Uh huh.”

“Oh and she might be related to Rafe. Which basically means I fucked the enemy.”

“You mean seventeen years ago, right? Not like last week when Trina was dead?”

The withering look from Sam spoke volumes. 

“Look, I didn't think so but had to ask! Honestly I'm surprised your buddy Ben is still breathing. Trina can be downright scary when it comes to you.”

“I know. She's full of fire.”

“We'll bring her home, Sam. Now let's go see my favorite little guy!”

Chloe parked in front of Nathan's and beat Sam to the door. “Sullivan, we're—Sam!”

The elder Drake ran, his heart instantly in his throat at the fear in her voice. “What? Chloe—Victor, what the hell?”

Sullivan looked up from where he was still cuffed to the half-broken bannister. “Samuel, she had a gun…”

“What?”

“She got the jump on me and… I'm so sorry, kid, I failed…”

Fear hit his eyes. “Henry? Henry!”

Sam tore up the stairs and into the spare room where his son had been sleeping. The pack and play was empty except for a few pacifiers.

“Sam?” Chloe called from downstairs.

“He's gone! He's gone…”

“Who was here?” Chloe asked Victor as Sam came down the steps. She'd uncuffed his hands and the older man was rubbing his wrists.

“Sara. Sara took Henry,” he said.

Sam fished the phone out of his pocket, hitting her number. “Fucking bitch… Where's my son?”

Unknown Location

Sara smirked as her phone rang. Trina glared at her from across the room as the two guys chained her to the radiator. She still held Henry tight, almost baring her teeth anytime anyone looked at her son. She was a cornered animal.

“Why, hello to you, too, Samuel,” she cooed into the phone.

“Where is Henry?”

Even across the apartment, she could hear her husband and the panic in his voice.

“What about where is John?”

“Cut the crap, Sara. He's not mine. Elena told me about the results. The real ones, not the fakes you showed me. Now, where is Henry?”

Almost on cue, he started to bawl, mumbling “Dada!”

It warmed her heart some to know he recognized Sam’s voice even on the phone.

“If you hurt him–”

“You'll what? Kill me?” she teased. 

“Sam, he's safe! Mama's here, right? Mama's got you…” she yelled across the room. She wasn’t going to let him worry about Henry. Not if she could help it. He had to be losing his mind with her gone and now Henry.

“Trin?” He stopped dead at the sound of her voice.

“Shut it, you whore, Samuel and I are talking,” Sara snapped.

“You… you sadistic bitch! How long have you and Ben been working together?” Sam snarled.

“Oh, shit.”

“John was never in any danger, was he? It was a ploy for my attention. Why stab Nathan? Why try to kill my brother?”

Try… is Nate alive?

“Nathan got what he deserved. I’m just sorry it took this long,” Sara said with a sadistic smile on her face as she flounced on the couch, near Trina but not close enough for her to reach her with the chain. Not close enough to snatch the phone, the lifeline to her distraught husband.

Sara was breaking him, bit by bit. Learning John wasn’t his. Having Henry taken. Nate getting stabbed. His entire world was crumbling because of a jealous ex. Sara wasn’t capable of rational thought. Of moving on. On letting Sam chose her.

Because he’d once been Sara’s. And Trina had once been Rafe’s.

“You hurt my son, Sara, I’ll kill you. That’s a promise.”

She laughed. “Oh, Samuel, I missed the protective side of you. It’s all I wanted, really. You and me… we made such a good team.”

“We’re not a team. I’m married. And I love my wife.”

“And if she wasn’t in the picture?”

Trina saw her go for the gun and she immediately turned her back to the blonde. Henry fussed, sensing something was wrong. She kissed the top of his head and whispered nonsense to him. She wasn’t risking a bullet hitting her son. Sara could kill her. She didn’t care. No one got to hurt her son.

“Sara, I promise you, if you hurt either of them, you’re dead. I swear. I don’t love you. I’m not sure I ever did.”

“Oh, Sam, you don’t mean that.”

“I do. Now, I wanna talk to my wife.”

Trina heard the annoyed huff from the other woman. She might as well stamp her feet and throw a tantrum like a spoiled child. It’s what she really was. She was just glad that the mask was off for Sam’s sake. He deserved to know the truth.

“No. She’s alive for now, Sam. That’s all you get to know. Along with the little brat.”

The coldness in her voice sent a chill down her spine, only punctuated by the gun barrel pressed at the back of her head.

“Trin?”

“She can’t talk right now. She’s got a gun to her head. Good-bye, Samuel.”

Nate & Elena’s

“FUCK!”

He swept the dining room table clean with his hands, sending glasses, papers, and Elena’s laptop to the floor. Chloe lunged for and caught the laptop, already having anticipated his move as other items shattered on the floor.

“Sam,” Sullivan tried, his voice soft.

“No, Victor! She…” He clenched his hands into fists, shaking. “She has my family! You don’t get it! My son, my wife…” He banged his fists down on the table.

“Trina’s been through worse,” he said. “She’s a fighter.”

“She’s gonna kill her… I just… if she could stab Nathan and take Henry… there’s nothing stopping her from killing Trina. Nothing. Fuck… this is all my fault!”

“It’s not, Sam,” Chloe said, touching his arm. “It’s hers. Hers and that other asshole. They did this, not you. It’s not your fault she’s insane.”

“I… I just told her no. That… that right there… I just got Trina killed…”

“We don’t know that. Trade’s in what, eight hours? There’s still time. There’s still a chance. Now, do you want to go see Nate or do you want to work the papers?”

He shook his head. “I don’t give a shit about the Jewel. I just want my family back. He can have it all. I just want Trina and Henry.”

“Okay, okay,” she said, patting his arm. “Sullivan, you up to a family visit?”

“You kidding? Try and stop me,” he said.

Hospital

Nadine met them in the waiting room. She had some dried blood on her clothes but otherwise looked like her usual self.

“How’s Nathan?” Sam asked.

“Where’s Hen—oh shit,” the merc said after Chloe shook her head.

“I’m gonna kill her, that’s for sure,” he growled.

“Is he… he’s not…”

“Sara took him,” Victor said. “She’s working with the other guy. It was all a set-up. Trina’s got ‘im.”

“Mama Bear,” Nadine agreed, nodding. “He’s out of surgery. Elena’s with him. It’s ICU so two person limit.

“You go first, Sam,” Sullivan said. “He’s your brother.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He practically sprinted down the hall looking for Nate’s room. He didn’t pay attention to numbers, he was just looking and listening for them.

“Hey,” Elena called, looking up from a chair pulled beside the bed as he stepped in.

“Hey… how’s…?”

There were several monitors hooked up to his younger brother and bags of fluid. Nate was asleep or drugged—maybe both. He was definitely paler than usual and had layers of bandages across his abdomen.

“He’s alive,” his sister-in-law said. “Lost a lot of blood. Apparently all the scar tissue helped… from Nepal.”

“The train.”

“Yeah. They did a few transfusions too. No major internal organs punctured, luckily. He’s always been lucky.”

“She was so sure she killed him.”

“She? You talked to her?”

He could sense her anger rising, which was barely anything compared to his own. “She admitted it all, Elena. She’s working with him. Have been since the start. And she…”

“Sam? What happened?”

“She took him… the bitch took my son…”

He could see the horror on her face. “Oh my God, Sam! Are you… you’re not okay, that’s a stupid question.”

“Trina’s there. I heard her. I heard him too. I just… I can’t lose them, Elena. I can’t lose my family. Not again.”

“We’re you’re family too. All of us. And we’re here for you. So if we need to kick down door s and raise hell, we will. And Sara will get what she deserves.”

“I should… Sullivan’ll wanna see him…”

“Sam?” Elena said as he was half-way out the door.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you… if you hadn’t called looking for him, Nate could be dead. He’s alive because of you.”

“Yeah, well, he’s an idiot but he’s my little brother. Someone’s gotta look out for him.”

“Trina’s a fighter. No one will even be able to breathe near Henry,” she said with a faint smile.

“Yeah… that’s what worries me.”

Chapter Text

Unknown Location

“She can’t talk right now. She’s got a gun to her head. Good-bye, Samuel,” Sara said, hanging up the phone.

Trina swallowed, waiting to hear the gun go off. Would she even register the sound before a bullet burrowed into her skull? Would Henry realize that she’d died and he’d been hit with her blood? She hoped he didn’t. She didn’t want him to remember her like this.

She made sure Henry sat low in her lap, away from the path of the bullet, holding her head up. Tears threatened to fall.

She just wished she’d been able to say good-bye to Sam.

“Ok, that’s enough,” Ben snarled and she felt the gun lift from her head. She still didn’t move.

“I’m going to end her!”

“Not yet! Once the exchange is made, go for it. You’ve already lost him. Admit defeat, Sara. Move on. She won. You lost.”

Trina took the opportunity to scoot away from them, holding her son close even though her broken wrist burned. He cooed at her, trying in his own way to distract her and comfort. “Mama…”

She kissed his cheek. “I’m right here, baby.”

“That bitch killed my brother!”

“Half-brother,” Trina responded out of spite. God, she had the in-law from hell. Or, well, former in-law. Thank God…the last thing I need is Rafe to be alive. I’m a lot of things, but at least I’m not a bigamist.

“You fucking bitch!” Sara lunged at her again but Ben held her back. 

“She's baiting you! She wants you to kill her so Sam will kill you. Don't you get it?”

“Mama. Mama,” Henry babbled in her lap.

“You know what? She needs to suffer.”

“No! No!” Trina turned away from her, tucking into a curved hunch to protect her son. “No! Get off me!”

But with the other woman yanking on her broken wrist, she couldn't help but cry out in agony as she tried to hold Henry with her good arm. 

“You can't take him! You can't take my son!”

She tried to bite Sara but ended up getting bitch slapped before she could chomp down. Ears ringing, Trina fought to regain her senses. 

“If that kid screams all night, we're gonna have problems,” Ben said, arms crossed. He was staying out of it.

“You fucker! Don't let her take my baby!”

Henry started to cry as she struggled with the blonde. But Sara had the upper hand and looped something around her throat. Trina flailed, trying to ease the pressure with her injured wrist while trying to keep Henry pressed against her. To protect him.

“No…” she cried hoarsely as the pressure increased and dark spots danced across her vision. While Henry cried her name.

Then nothing.

Nate and Elena’s 

Daybreak 

Sam didn't sleep.

Well, not until Nadine crushed a few pills in his coffee and he passed out for a few hours. He was pissed but rest was necessary. He needed to be sharp. He had to save his family. His son. His wife. He needed vengeance for his brother. Sara and Ben both needed to pay. 

Fuck the folio. Fuck the Jewel. The only treasure he needed was them. His family. Trina. Henry. Nathan. Elena. Sullivan. Chole. Even Nadine.

If he couldn't save Trina, he'd do his damndest to make sure Henry knew all about his mother. Elena had tons of footage from the expedition. It wasn't ideal but he'd make sure he saw pictures of her. Tell him stories about her. He wouldn't let Henry forgot his mother, not like how him and Nathan forgot Cassandra. Her journals were all they really had left of their mother. 

Trina would never forgive him (and he'd never forgive himself) if saving her doomed their son. She'd want him to save Henry first.

Fuck, she'd written it before birth. That if things went south, her wishes were for the doctors to save the baby first, then her. And he'd almost lost both. 

He needed to save both. His other half. His wife. His fucking soulmate. And his innocent son. Henry was just a baby. He didn't belong in the middle of this. But if he had to choose, his son needed to come first no matter if it doomed Trina.

“We need Henry out first. Trina'll kill me if he gets hurt.”

“I'll run point on the little guy,” Chloe offered. “I'll get him out then come back.”

He nodded.

“Just tell me who to shoot,” Nadine said. 

“Get Trina out. She's gonna fight you.”

“And you?”

“I'll give Ben his folio. I suspect he'll fuck off. It's Sara that worries me.”

“I vote shooting her,” Chloe suggested. 

“Ja.”

“It's my attention she wants. I'll let her know it's over. For good.”

“Then we shoot her,” Nadine said.

He sighed.

Unknown Location 

A chill came over her and groggily, Trina went to wrap her arms around herself only to feel skin. Frowning, she looked down to see only leggings and a bralette working overtime to keep her boobs contained. No shirt. She'd definitely been wearing a shirt.

Immediately she went through a mental checklist for pain and discomfort as she examined her leggings. No tears. On the right side. In the right spot. Untouched. 

“Stop it. No one raped you,” snapped Ben.

“But…my…”

Oh her throat hurt. Burned. Strangled. She'd been strangled. Sara. That fucking bitch…

“I gave it to the kid so he wouldn't scream all night. Clutched it in his fist and passed out.”

Henry. 

“I want my son.”

“And I want the Drake Jewel. No. Now put a clean shirt on. Unless you like people getting eyefuls of your tits.”

She crossed her arms, the blistering pain in her broken wrist providing some clarity.

“Maybe I should brand you ‘Property of Rafe Adler’. Remind everyone that while they can look at you, you belong to me. Your body is mine.”

He tore her dress in half before pushing her onto her knees. 

“Rafe–”

“Ah, ah, open that pretty mouth of yours, darling, and suck my cock. Unless you want me to beat and whip your ass until you can't sit for a week.  Now.”

“I want my son, Ben. She’s gonna kill me. I want to spend what time I have left with him.”

She made it to the little bag of clothes she had and grabbed a clean top, trying not to cry as she negotiated it over her wrist. It was very swollen now. She was still chained to the radiator by her ankle. Not that she would run without her baby. 

“I don't care. I'm not playing monkey in the goddamn middle with the two of you. I'm done. I want my folio and the Jewel. Samuel will deliver or I'll come back and kill your son.”

“If you think after anything happens to me that he'll let anyone near Henry, you're fucking insane. He'll kill you before you set foot near him.”

“You seem quite confident considering last time we squared off, I stabbed you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Last time, you caught us off guard. It won't happen again. I know my husband.”

“Yet, blondie got your kid… Mrs. Drake, I fear you might be delusional.”

Sam & Trina’s

A Few Months Ago

They lay together in bed, limbs entwined between the cool sheets.

“Have you ever thought about how many kids we'll have?”

“Three,” she said confidently as she interlaced her fingers with his.

“Three? Wow.”

“One boy, one girl, and one wild card.”

“You think we can handle three kids?” Sam asked, an unsure look on his face. It wasn’t quite fear but it was very close.

“No, but I think it'll be entertaining.”

“You're demented, Mrs. Drake.”

She smirked. “It's why you married me, Mr. Drake.”

“When did you think we'd start having more kids?”

“Why don't we practice now?”

She straddled him slowly, her silk nightgown sliding up her bare thighs while a grin slipped across his face. “Practice, huh?”

“I mean, Henry was a bit of a surprise.”

“A good one.”

He kissed her deeply as he flipped her onto her back. She didn't bother to suppress a moan as he nudged between her thighs. Her husband was very good at getting her off. Their sex life was anything but boring even with Henry. 

“You know it means small scale hunts…”

“I can stay close to home,” Sam said. “Hell, I'm sure Nathan will have a dive soon I can join him on.”

“Then giddy-up, cowboy.”

“Yee-ha!”

The Trade

It was a fairly nondescript spot. Outdoors without a lot of hiding places. Far enough away from witnesses. 

Sam wasn't alone. Elena stayed behind at the hospital with Nate. Sullivan was keeping a car running and Nadine and Chloe were somewhere nearby keeping an eye on him. And he hoped to hell they'd jump in and help. 

A car appeared. He immediately moved toward it.

“Trina? Baby?”

“Samuel, nice of you to join us,” Ben said, dragging Trina across the center console as she whimpered in pain.

His former partner held her close, not letting her run to him. She was a disheveled mess, barefoot, in leggings and a t-shirt, her one wrist badly swollen. But she was a fighter, his wife. A survivor. 

“Where's Henry?”

“Right here,” Sara said, exiting the backseat holding his squirming son. Henry was red-faced and upset.

“I've got your folio. Let them both go.”

“Give him the kid,” Ben said as he held out the document. 

Sara looked annoyed but Henry sobbed happily into his shirt as he took him. He kissed the top of his head. “Hey, kid, papa's got you. Auntie Chloe is gonna take you, ok?”

Almost immediately, Chloe was there. “Hey, big man, you look hungry. Come along.”

“I told you to come alone,” Ben said.

“You took my son.”

“Folio. And the Jewel.”

“I just have the folio.”

“Deal was for both.”

“I didn't have time for the Jewel,” Sam hissed. “Besides, it won't be in the US. You know that.”

“Then I guess, Trina will keep me company longer.” Ben pulled her tighter and she cried out in pain when he touched her wrist.

“Wait! You'll need my help. Let's make a trade. Me for her.”

“Sam, no!” Trina looked terrified. 

“Why would I agree to a trade? You'd just fuck me over and escape,” Ben mused.

“Look, you've already proved you can get to my family. You want the Jewel, I'll find the Jewel. But I have to know they are safe.”

“Sam, no…”

“You need a doctor. And Henry needs you. It's the best way, babe.” Looking at her broke his heart. Sure, maybe with Nadine’s help he could’ve shot them both and taken Trina. But he didn’t like those odds. He didn’t trust Ben and Sara not to have contingency plans. Or to have guns aimed at Trina.

“Don't do this, please,” she whimpered.

“So you find me the Jewel if I let her go? You'll work with me?”

“Yes, but I will need contact with my family. To know they're safe and to follow up on clues. It's the Drake Jewel. My brother, Nathan, is the Drake expert, not me. And since someone stabbed him… well…” He shot a glare at his ex who pulled a gun out in response. And aimed it right at his wife.

“And if you don't find it?” Ben asked.

“Then you can kill me.”

“No!” Trina shouted.

“We have a deal. And since I'm feeling generous and I have a gun, you can have five minutes to say goodbye. Try and leave together and I'll kill her, Samuel. Now, be a good boy and give me my folio.”

“Take it.” He practically shoved the paper at him as Ben released Trina.

She was in his arms, tears falling freely, and he finally got a good look at the bruises and marks on her pale skin. The hollowness of her face. Her clearly broken wrist.

“Baby…”

“Sam… oh, Sam…”

“I know. I know. Sullivan's waiting up the hill with Chloe. They've got your new phone. My number's in it. I'm gonna call you every day.”

She nodded. “But Sam–”

“You need a doctor. Your wrist…plus you were stabbed, baby. You need to take care of yourself. I love you so much.”

“I love you, Sam, please… don't leave me…”

“It won't be long. I'll be home before you know it. You get to hang out at Hotel Drake with everyone. It's a big party. You won't even notice I'm gone.”

“Come back to me. Sam, please, promise…”

“Always. You and me forever, Mrs. Drake. Sic Parvis Magna.”

“Sic Parvis Magna,” she repeated softly, kissing him, her fingers in his shirt.

As they pulled apart, he slipped out of his opened button-up and pulled it around her. She clutched it to her chest as he helped into it, trying not to wince when he jarred her wrist. It was a little thing he could give her to comfort her. Besides, she looked better in his shirts than he did.

“I love you, Trin.”

“Sam, I–”

It happened in slow motion. The shot. The blood. The pain on her face. Her body going limp.

Blood poured from the shot to her head as Trina fell to the ground. He couldn't help but scream her name, scream for her to get up. To say something. But she didn't. His wife didn't make a sound.

“Good riddance,” Sara said as Ben shoved him into the car. He was numb now.

“You fucking bitch,” was all he could muster through the shock. He’d suspected she’d try something, but still, this confirmation hurt.

“She was an obstacle. Now she's gone, Sam. It's you and me again, the way it's meant to be. You'll see.”

“It's never gonna fucking happen, you psycho bitch.”

“You'll change your mind.”

His phone vibrated. He glanced at the picture message, a bandage on her forehead but those green eyes alive. Trina was alive.

Just like they'd planned it.

Chapter Text

Hospital

Trina pressed an ice pack to her head, trying to fight a throbbing headache.

“He said what?”

“Samuel knew blondie wanted you dead so the plan was to have Nadine take a non-fatal shot that looked fatal,” Chloe added helpfully.

“What if she'd actually hit me?”

Nadine shrugged. “You were far enough away I had a cleaner shot. Plus I fired a few milliseconds faster. Knocked you down before she could.”

“You're nuts.”

“You're alive, aren't you?”

“You shot me in the head!”

“No, I grazed you in the head, Drake. There's a difference. Honestly… after everything you still don't trust me, do you?” the ex-mercenary asked, looking a bit hurt. Which seemed almost impossible to do. Hell, if she hadn’t witnessed Asav fighting Nadine, she’d still think the ex-merc was invincible, but nope, she was as human as the rest of them.

“No, I guess I don't. It's harder for me. You saw what Rafe did. Especially after Sam left.”

“You mean after he nearly killed you.”

Lying broken at the bottom of the stairs in her own blood, her wrists bound with a belt. Thrown through a coffee table. More bruises than not. Life without Sam was full of pain.

Trina nodded. “And yet you never did anything.”

“Wasn't my place.”

“You're a woman–”

“Did you ever once ask for my help?”

“What?”

“Did you ever once go ‘hey, Nadine, my husband uses me as a punching bag, how much money will it take to kill him?’”

“Why would–?” Trina shook her head, her headache roaring. Nadine wanted to kill Rafe? Since when?

“You asked to learn to shoot. I thought, ‘good, next time the prick comes at her, she'll shoot his balls off’. But you didn't. You let him hurt you again. And again. Almost like you were punishing yourself. Then, it all made sense in Libertalia. On the cliff.”

She remembered that day vividly. Sam, bleeding, as Rafe took out his anger on him. Her, unable to hide it any longer so she screamed for him. Endangering herself, Sam, and Nate. Exposing her affair to her psychopathic, abusive husband.

“He hurt Sam.”

“I'd always thought you two were perhaps friendlier than you led on. I wasn't expecting a full-blown affair. I'll give you that. Though you in his shirt was quite a look.”

“Didn't exactly get kidnapped with a change of clothes.”

Nadine laughed. “Yeah, I kinda figured that was bullshit. But Rafe? He bought it. He complained all day and night. Worried that Samuel would ‘defile’ you.” She even used air quotes. It had to be Chloe’s influence. She’d never seen Nadine Ross use air quotes in all the time she worked for Rafe.

“He never raped me. Or coerced me.”

“No? Not even once?”

She shook her head, looking disgusted at the very suggestion. “It wasn't like that! We never meant to fall in love. It just happened. It was real. No trickery. No deception. No force.”

“Huh.”

“Told ya!” Chloe called triumphantly and got a glare in response from the other woman.

“He might be an ex-felon and a thief, but Sam's not a rapist. He'd never hurt me. Not like Rafe.”

“Well, that one was always self-absorbed.”

“Sam is the opposite. He always has been. He reminded me what love should be. And no matter what, I'll never regret a single moment we've spent together.”

“Even though you've been stabbed and shot just this month because of him?”

“Yes, because that's love. I love him, Nadine. Besides, you shot me.”

“Touché.”

“Mrs. Drake?” a young man in scrubs ducked into the room. “Your chariot awaits. Radiology is ready to take a look at your wrist.”

Unknown Location

Ben tapped his feet impatiently from the couch, a gun in hand. As if Sam needed a reminder of what was at risk. “Well?”

“I’m checking to see if my brother is awake yet. If you wanna be pissy about it, talk to your partner,” Sam snapped, texting Elena.

At the same time, a text buzzed in from Nadine. Multiple fractures, she’ll need surgery, bone chipped. Doing ok. She’ll text after. FYI not pregnant.

He sighed. He hated being away from Trina, especially when she was hurt. But she had Chloe and Nadine acting as bodyguards right now and support. Plus the biggest threat to her safety thought she was dead. And he’d keep it that way as long as possible.

His phone flashed. Video call from Nathan Drake. He accepted.

“Hey little brother, you look like shit.”

“Haha, hilarious,” Nate said. “So do you. You slept in the last week?”

“Nadine drugged my coffee.”

“That’s great. You know, I’m starting to like her, minus the whole trapping us on a burning ship with a psycho bit.”

“Yeah, it takes some getting used to,” Sam admitted. “Look, Chloe and I got a few Drake artifacts and I really need to find that Jewel. The sooner I get it, the sooner I get to come home, Nathan.”

“Wait… where are you?”

He let Ben’s scowl show on the camera. “I traded myself, Nathan. For Trina and Henry.”

“Sam, no…”

“You’d have done the same. Sully’s got the kiddo.”

“And Trina?”

He shook his head.

“Fuck, Sam, I’m so sorry.”

“No one can hurt her anymore,” he said softly, spinning his wedding ring. “She’s safe now. No more nightmares either. No more Rafe.”

“Still, I’m sorry, Sam. I know how much you love her. You two are inseparable.”

“Yeah, yeah we are,” he sighed. “I need to get back to my son. He doesn’t have a mom anymore Nathan. He needs me.”

“Of course. Whatcha got?”

He shifted a bit. He’d kept some of the papers he’d stolen with Chloe. The rest were at Nate’s along with Drake’s journals. He knew the girls would get whatever his brother needed. This was just the start of the hunt. To get his brother off and running. Because if anyone could find the Drake Jewel, it was Nathan Drake.

“So I have a single folio I found before Panama but the clue was worthless. It led me to a box. All it had was a scrap with ‘Sic Parvis Magna’ on it.”

“Drake’s motto,” his brother said and he twisted his ring, seeing Trina brushing her hair, her engraved bracelet catching the light.

“Yeah, well it led me to a journal in South America. A fake—there was a leather store mark which certainly wasn’t around in Drake’s time. But it was about El Dorado.”

“Sully.”

“Bingo. You found the real journal. Which we know is missing some pages…”

“Yeah… crap, you found the missing pages, didn’t you?” Nate light up.

Sam held up the first page. “Blame Chloe for folding it. I’ll send you pictures. I can’t read his chicken scratch.”

“Oooh, definitely Drake’s hand though.”

“You’re gonna strain your eyes, kid.”

Nathan shot him a dirty look, which he ignored.

“There’s another one with a map. It’s at your house. And a signet ring. I thought, meh, it could be useful.”

“Knowing Drake, it probably is.”

“Cool, so I’ll send you pictures of this in a few. Let me know what you think once you read it. Call me whenever. Not like I’m doing much.”

“Sure thing. Won’t be long, Sam. Hang in there. We’ll get you home.”

Hospital

Hallway Outside Nate’s Room

Elena sipped at her coffee as she looked over at Chloe. “And you’re sure no one knows?”

“The only two people who’d care are distracted by the Jewel. And Sam’s not about to risk letting it slip. Besides, she’s in no shape right now. We didn’t want to freak him out, but there’s an infection from the stabbing. They’re working on that after they fix her arm. She’ll need hardware to set it after they remove the chips. They were pretty shocked by the scans.”

“Knowing Trina, she kept fighting with it broken.”

Chloe nodded. “And if Henry was involved—“

“Even more so. We can’t tell Sam.”

“Agreed.”

Hospital

Nate’s Room

Nate had loose sheets of paper on the tray and notes upon notes. He called Sam who picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, big brother.”

“Jesus, Nathan, it’s been, what, fifteen minutes?”

“Has it been that long? Shit, I thought it was five.”

“Whatcha got?” Sam asked.

“So, the Jewel was awarded to Drake by Queen Elizabeth.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you know why?”

His brother frowned. “I assumed for various exploration bullshit.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“Nathan?”

“The page mentions an Arthur Dudley. There was a Dudley in Elizabeth’s court—“

“Robert Dudley. But he didn’t—“

“That’s what history tells us,” Nate said with a grin and he saw the light flick on in his brother’s eyes.

“Elizabeth, the Virgin Queen, had a son. With Dudley.”

He nodded.

“And Drake took him… somewhere,” Sam added.

“And got the Jewel for it.”

“Exactly.”

“Wait… why didn’t she just legitimize him?”

Nate shrugged. “I mean a male heir… she could’ve been overthrown in favor of him. Besides, didn’t her advisors hate Dudley?”

“Probably. She didn’t marry him… though pretty sure most people thought they fucked.”

He shook his head. Only his brother would put it so succinctly about one of history’s most influential monarchs. If only Trina was here. She’d probably have whacked Sam upside the head for that.

“What? Banged?”

“My guess is he went back with the Jewel to give it to the kid. And that map you found… that and the ring. I’m hoping that will help shed some light on the rest of this.”

“More nonsense?”

“More like code. He’s pointing to something, I just can’t tell what.”

Unknown Location

Evening

“You better not being telling me we’re going back to Panama,” Sam grumbled.

Nate was bent over the kitchen table with Drake paraphilia spread out, his phone resting against something. He’d been released from the hospital. Elena was hovering just out of sight most of the time. He’d catch glimpses of her and Sullivan from time to time. Plus his son.

“Why?”

“I promised Trina after last time.”

“Last time?”

“With Sullivan. She hates…hated it there.”

“Didn’t you meet her in Panama?”

“Yeah. Not like we fell in love there. We were there like a whole two days before going to Scotland.”

His younger brother shook his head. “Look, I don’t want you to break a promise to her, but that’s where El Dorado was. The real journal was there. All roads are leading that way.”

“Fuck.”

He ran his hands through his hair. He’d known they’d have to leave the US. He’d known. But it severally limited his family’s ability to travel. His son didn’t have a passport and he certainly didn’t want his first international outing to be to goddamn Panama. No, someone would need to stay behind with Henry. He wanted to nominate Nate, who really should still be in the hospital, but he needed his brother’s help. And Elena wouldn’t let him solo.

“Someone wants to say good night,” his sister-in-law said, entering the frame holding a babbling baby.

“Hey bud, bed time already?”

Henry squealed happily and looked at him through Nate’s phone. Being at Nate’s was routine now for his son, but he was glad he got to at least say good night to him. Especially after he’d been torn away from Trina. Poor kid had to be so confused.

“Papa loves you, you got that, kiddo? Now be good for Auntie Elena. Mwh.” He blew a kiss at the phone and Henry cried “Papa!” in response.

That kid would be the death of him one day.

“What, no kiss for Uncle Nate?”

Henry blew a wet raspberry at Nathan and Sam howled with laughter. Oh yeah, that was definitely his son. At least he seemed unharmed by his brief abduction. Which he knew had to be due to Trina’s presence.

He glanced at his texts carefully while Nate spoke to Elena. Sure enough, there was one from Nadine.

In recovery. She’ll text when she’s not slurring. Right now she loves everyone. And proposed to a nurse. How do you feel about bigamy?

He shook his head and responded. Nah, adultery is where I draw the line. Especially if they’re a right dick.

Sam scratched his neck, fingers tracing over his tattoo. He could almost feel her lips on his skin, hear her softly whispering, “Jailbird,” in his ear. Only she called him that.

“Okay, I’m back,” Nate said. “You and Trina made one hell of a cute kid.”

“That was mostly her. He just happens to look like me.”

“Well, Elena’s got him. She’s really enjoying this babysitting.”

“So when should I plan on becoming an uncle?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Trin and I had a little bet going before…” he trailed off, reminding himself that Nate could not know. He was the weakest link of the group aside from Sully. Especially not with Ben and Sara listening in. Well, Sara was off drinking somewhere on Ben’s orders.

“You were betting on me?”

“More on Elena’s ability to sweet talk you into a baby.”

“I hate you.”

Sam shrugged. “Join the club. I think there’s a referral bonus. Ask Nadine.”

“I’ll double check my calculations in the morning, but it looks like Panama. So, big brother, I’d recommend rest and pack a… oh. I’ll… we’ll pack some stuff for you. Obviously, you can’t go alone—“

“Nathan, you’re in no shape—“

“I already talked to Elena. She’s gonna stay back with Henry. Sully will drop me and Chloe, maybe Nadine. She might stay behind. I’m not sure. She scares me a bit.”

He nodded, knowing that wherever Nadine went was most likely where Trina was. She’d appointed herself as bodyguard. Perhaps it was because she felt responsible after shooting her.

“Fine…”

“Wait… you’re not gonna yell at me?”

“I’m tired, Nate. My wife’s dead. It’s been a long fucking day.”

“If you wanna talk about her…”

He shook his head. “No… it still doesn’t feel real. Especially not after last time.” After he properly mourned her. And only pulled himself together for Henry’s sake. And because he saw her face alive.

And he knew she was alive. She was safe in the hospital with Nadine at her side.

Hospital

Trina Drake had an urge to rip out all of the cords and tubes and wires and go home.

“No,” said the South African woman at her side. “Absolutely not.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“You’re a Drake—I could see it. You’re going to stay in this bed until a medical professional clears you. Samuel would want you to stay.”

She made a face but sighed. “Can I have my phone?”

“Sure. I told him the surgery went well.”

“Thanks.” She used her good hand to unlock the replacement phone, which had a new number, Nadine had told her, and was set in Sam’s phone as Devon, her maiden name.

Awake. Miss you. Arm hurts even with the good drugs. Two plates and six screws and probably a few nuts and bolts.

Almost immediately a message popped through from her husband. Sam wasn’t a big fan of text but she knew he was doing his best given the circumstances.

Just don’t go all Terminator on me. Love you.

She smiled before responding. Not how that works. Nate help you out?

Yeah. Elizabeth had a son with Dudley. Drake hid him. Then hid real Jewel. Probably Panama. Sorry.

She sighed. Of course it was Panama. Where everything started for them once upon a time.

I’ll see you there?

There was a long pause. Too long in a way.

Take Nadine. Wig. Use Chloe’s passport.

Of course. I love you, Sam. I’ll see you there. I promise. Sic Parvis Magna, always.

Saw Henry. He’s ok. Elena’s got him.

Trina smiled. She had so many questions she wanted to ask her husband. She wanted to fall asleep in his arms. She wanted to be home, in their bed, just the two of them, with Henry down the hall. She wanted her life back—their life together.

Sic Parvis Magna. Have to go. Dream of you.

She set the phone down and sighed. She always dreamed of him. No one else haunted her the way her husband did.

“Well?” Nadine asked.

“We’re going to Panama. And I’m going as Chloe.”

“We dyeing this or getting a wig, love?” Chloe asked from the doorway, food and drinks in hand.

“Wig,” Trina said.

“Ah, Samuel likes the red, got it,” the dark-haired thief teased.

“The ex is a blonde,” Nadine said.

“True…”

“He said wig. And I agree. Plus it’ll be easier.”

“Guess I’m sitting this round out. Shame.”

“Sorry. But it’ll be safer if I don’t use my own passport. I need to get home though. Pack. Oh, Sam probably has no clothes—“

“Don’t think Ben swings that way,” Nadine muttered.

“Sara definitely would jump on that.”

Trina cringed. “Can we… not talk about the psycho bitch who wants me dead for a bit? And who wants to jump my husband’s bones?”

“Boner…” Chloe muttered, before raising her hands. “Last one. I promise.”

“Frazer, keep her plugged in while I track down a doctor. She’s getting squirmy.”

“Shouldn’t they keep her overnight?”

“You’ve met the Drakes, right? If we don’t get her released, she’ll pull herself free and be out the door before we know it, probably ripping stitches. It’s better for everyone if I just get her discharged.”

“You gonna flash your gun?” Chloe asked.

“No. Cash.”

“Bummer.”      

Chapter Text

Trina & Sam’s

She tried not to look at the dining room. At the spot on the floor where she’d been stabbed and laid bleeding out, dying and helpless. She hadn’t been in her home since. 

Trina could still hear his voice. “No! Trina! TRINA! Trina! Trin, baby, look at me. Look at me. Baby, hey, hey… I love you. I love you.”

She held her side. It was almost like the knife was still inside. Still tearing into her flesh. Like she was still tied to that damn chair, bleeding out on the floor in her own house. Her home. Where she should be safest. Where she used to be safe.

“Trina! Katrina! Stay with me! Trina… no, no, no don’t close your eyes. Baby! Trina!”

Quiet sobs wracked her frail frame.

And now here she was in the dark and silent house without the people who made it a home. Without her husband. Without her son. 

It had been a normal day until it wasn’t.

The last voice she had heard was his. And it had been so close to the very last. Her life almost ended right there, not even five feet away, in her goddamn dining room. And for what? A treasure? A map? An old document? She didn’t even really know. She hadn’t the time to really put the pieces together.

She knew exactly why Sara wanted her gone. Trina had won the competition for Sam. She hadn’t even known there was a competition for her husband’s affections–for fuck’s sake, after everything they’d been through, there was no way she wouldn’t fight for him–besides unlike Sara, they did have a child together. Even if they didn’t, Sam chose her. Sam had free will and agency, too. And no matter what, time and time again, he chose her. And Sara couldn’t stand it.

Sure, there was the Rafe factor. She would admit that her ex-husband had managed to keep his psychotic half-sister from her. Trina still won in the secret-keeping department by concealing both her affair and the fact that the baby she carried was Sam’s and not Rafe’s. And Rafe went to his grave believing he killed his own child. A small revenge for years of abuse at his hands.

Trina climbed the stairs slowly, her injured wrist tucked against her chest as she held the rail tight in her right hand. She tried not to tense her stomach muscles as she moved, the stitches still so fresh and tense. It was incredibly foolish and selfish leaving the hospital. The doctor had warned her against it. But she couldn’t lay there while her husband needed her. While her entire family was at risk.

She could endure pain. She’d done it time and again. Being a punching bag for an abusive asshole of an ex-husband made her strong. She’d smiled through broken ribs. Danced on twisted ankles. Hid the bruises and the pain and the misery. Been the perfect doll on Rafe’s arm. So that she could be the one to fight to get to Sam.

She would never stop fighting. That’s what Rafe never understood. No matter what he did, she would survive. She’d dust herself off and keep going. Because she had a reason to fight. A reason to live.

Sam.

Trina stood in the middle of their bedroom, glancing at their messy bed with the sheets askew and a blanket on the floor. This was home. It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t need to be.

There was an open pack of cigarettes on his nightstand, the cardboard creased from being shoved in his jeans pocket. A charger for his phone was still sitting there, one of dozens through the house because as much as she loved him, he was terrible at remembering to charge the damn thing. There was also an empty beer bottle and a mostly empty glass tumbler on the nightstand too. All normal Sam things. It was like he was just out of the room, checking on Henry.

“Do you need a break?” Nadine asked softly.

“No, no, I can do it. Umm, top of the closet there should be a canvas duffel. That’s Sam’s. There’s a leather one that’s mine. I usually climb the shelves–”

“No climbing,” Chloe and Nadine said in unison and Trina had to fight back a smile.

“Chloe, the safe has our passports. It’s–and you’re already in it.”

“Wedding date,” the thief said with a grin. “First one I tried. At least make it a challenge. Use Sullivan’s birthday or something.”

“I mean most people don’t know our–wait, how do you know our wedding date?”

“I’m just that good, love,” Chloe said with a grin, waving Sam’s passport.

Trina sighed. Sometimes it was easy to forget that her best friends were thieves.

Nadine tossed the two bags onto the bed and she turned her attention to the task at hand. Clothes. Supplies. Panama. Back to Panama. Back to where it all began for them.

Panama

The Day of Sam’s Release

He returned after a shower in a fresh pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt and absolutely devoured the burger and fries room service brought up. Samuel Drake ate like a man deprived of food for ages, which considering he’d been in prison, he likely had been.

By then, Trina was about three drinks deep herself, still wondering why Rafe had brought a convicted criminal straight out of prison and into their hotel suite. And how in hell was a man like Sam Drake supposed to help him find Henry Avery’s lost treasure.

She studied him and watched the muscles on his neck flex against the delicate blue birds tattooed there as he ate, his brown hair almost black now that it was wet. She couldn’t get a read on him. Nothing about him made sense. Not his lack of manners, his well-tuned physique, or his immediate interest in the documents Rafe had brought along from the dig.

Between the two men, she was criminally overdressed in the floral chiffon dress that clung around her breasts, fluttery ruffled straps trailing loose on her upper arms, while the cinched in waist only accentuated her curves. The diamond ring on her hand and matching stud earrings felt heavy.

It didn’t help that her hair was a bit shorter currently, exposing a lot of her pale neck and skin. Even in the heat of Panama she felt cold.

She felt the heat of Sam’s brown-eyed stare on her frequently. She knew he was sizing her up the same way she was him. But she could tell that there was more behind his than pure curiosity. It made her feel stripped bare, as if he could somehow see past the careful makeup, fancy clothes, and jewels.

In fact, Trina had a sinking suspicion that if Rafe wasn’t a few feet away, Sam Drake would pick her up, press her against a wall, and have his way with her. And judging by the way he sized her up and the way he carefully paid attention to the pages of research at his fingertips, it would be a good, if not rough, fuck. He seemed the type to make sure his partner enjoyed themselves as well.

You’re engaged. You love Rafe. He’s just the shiny new toy.

But she just knew Sam Drake was going to destroy her life.

And part of her really wanted him to. And it scared her more than Rafe in a rage.

Sam & Trina’s

Present

Trina tugged the zipper shut on Sam’s bag. Nadine lifted it up. “I’ll be back in a tic. Stay away from windows–that goes for both of you.”

“You’re no fun,” Chloe muttered.

“I’m going to shower. I won’t lock the door, I promise,” Trina said, gathering some clean clothes of her own. She still needed to pack her own bag but the lure of a hot shower in her own home for the first time in a long time was a siren song she couldn’t resist.

“Are you allowed to get wet?” Chloe asked.

“I need to change the dressings anyways. I’ll keep them covered and not let them get soaked.”

“I was more thinking about your wrist.”

“Trashbag over that will protect it. Plus our showerhead detaches. It’ll be ok, I promise. I just… I want to feel human again.”

Chloe nodded. “Shout if you need me.”

“I will.”

Unknown Location

Earlier That Evening

Sam put down the phone. “So, like you heard, we’ve gotta go to Panama.”

His former partner let out a deep sigh. “I’ll make some calls. I’m sure I can get us a flight.”

“Ya could just let me go home and get my passport, too, ya know. Just sayin’.”

“I’m already giving you a lot of latitude, Samuel. The phone. Contact with your brother. Don’t push it.”

He scoffed. “And you could’ve approached me like a man and asked me for my help. Instead, you threaten me, threaten my wife, threaten my kid. You attack her and leave her for dead in a fucking alley. Taunted me for weeks. Then you break into my goddamn home just to torture us and fucking STAB her!”

“I warned you.”

“That’s the lie you tell yourself to sleep at night,” Sam hissed. “You enjoyed it. There was no need to involve Trina and you fucking know it! If you’d been honest, I might’ve helped you. This could’ve been over with already. But no… you went after my family.”

There was an audible click as Ben turned off the safety and made a show of aiming his gun at Sam’s chest. “That’s enough, Samuel. Stop playing the martyr. You did this to yourself. Let’s go. You’ve still got plenty of family I can kill.”

“Go ahead. Pull the trigger. You came looking for me because Ben, let’s face it, you’re not smart enough to find the Drake Jewel even with a crayon map. You thought you needed me but we need my family. Nathan is a Drake expert. Between us, we can find it. Kill me, he’ll never help you. Kill me and they’ll disappear. I dare you. Pull the goddamn trigger.”

He half wanted to pull the trigger himself to see what would happen. The gun might not even be loaded. Would Ben be stupid enough to potentially kill his golden goose?

“Enough!” snapped Sara, finally emerging from wherever she’d been. “Put that gun down before I kill you just like I killed her.”

Sure enough, the blonde aimed her own gun at Ben. Sam was really sick of getting outgunned these days. Especially by these two. Master criminals, they were not.

Sam put his hands up slowly, resisting the urge to twist the gun from Ben’s weak grip and shoot them both. But he was tired, so fucking tired, and he just wanted to go home. This wasn’t a winning fight today.

“Damnit, Sara, we talked about this!” Ben snapped.

“You shoot Sam, I shoot you.”

In his pocket, Sam’s phone buzzed. A text.

“Okay, can we all just put the guns down for now and try and kill each other later?” Sam asked. God, he needed a cigarette. An entire pack, more like.

“Fine.” Ben caved first and Sara followed slower, still eying her supposed partner. He made a mental note as he looked at his phone.

A text from Nadine. Getting your passport and bag. Will drop. Just need a location.

Panama – Jicarita Islano

Post Honeymoon

Together, him and Victor expanded the hole in the sand, slowly exposing more of the box. He could see wood and metal strappings. All period appropriate. They were finally in the right place.

“Ah ha! What’d I tell you, Victor? And you thought we were on the wrong side of the is–Trina!”

All of the excitement of discovering the treasure immediately turned into ice-cold fear the instant he saw her with a gun to her head. His beautiful wife, his Trina, with a hand over her mouth that she screamed into. She’d just been shot at the other day. Now here she was, a hostage, and he was sitting here, helpless.

He aimed his gun at her captor, daring the other man to make a wrong step. Begging him to give him an opening. That’s all he needed, really. Just a quick moment so he could pull the trigger and save her. Save his wife. The love of his life.

The ice-cold fear. He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not yet. They were just starting their lives together.

“Let her go. Now.”

The man holding her laughed as her fingers clawed at his hand, her rings flashing in the sunlight. “Treasure,” he said, his voice accented.

“You let her go or I’ll blow your brains out.”

The gun barrel was too tight to her temple. Too close. He didn’t have the shot. Think, damnit. This is Trina. It’s her life on the line.

The ringleader laughed again as his buddies stepped out from the tree line, all armed to the teeth. There were five more of them. Sam and Victor were outnumbered and outgunned. This wasn’t a fair fight. Good thing he’d never learned to fight fair.

“So quick to violence,” he tsked, uncovering Trina’s mouth, shifting his grip to her waist to hold her back. He heard the sharp intake of pain from her

He saw the tears in her green eyes. The naked fear.

On reflex, he cursed in Spanish. Fucking Panama. It was always Panama.

He’d lost thirteen years of his life to Panama. He’d be damned if it would take his wife as well.

Trina’s captor said, “Now, now, that shouldn’t be uttered around a lady.”

All it did was wake up the fighter in his petite wife. She squirmed against the hold, her fingers desperate to pry the arm off her waist. It kept her arms pinned down to her sides and away from her gun. But all he did was laugh and slam the barrel deeper into her temple. “Let me go!”

“Such fire… what a waste…” he said with a sigh.

“I said. Let. Her. Go,” he spat and chambered a round in his gun. Violence seemed to be the only language this stranger understood. Good thing it was a language Sam knew well. Trust me, baby. Please.

“Now, I don’t think you’re in the position to make such threats. Unless you want to see me blow her head off.”

“Sam!” The tremble in her voice killed him. He could see the bruise from the gun already on her pale skin.

I won’t lose you. Not like this. I won’t. I swear.

“You want the treasure?” Sam asked. “Take it. I don’t care. You let her go and we walk away. Deal?”

“Or we kill you and take the treasure anyways… and we have some fun, right, princess?” sneered her captor.

Sam saw red.

Trina all those times she recoiled from Rafe’s touch. Every time he raised a hand to her. Every bit of violence he visited on her. The horrors of Libertalia. Watching him nearly beat her to death.

“Don’t be stupid, Samuel. You’re smarter than this. Or do. I’ll just kill her,” Rafe said, a gun at her head while she sat on her knees, her arms wrapped around her stomach.

Before him, he watched Trina turn her head some, which left her captor trying to press the barrel back to her temple. Then his wife dropped low and slammed her elbows into his kidney. Her captor groaned and the gun moved further away.

And he had his opening.

“Victor!” he shouted as she tumbled to the ground.

“Go!”

He threw himself over her, tucking her slender body against his as he squeezed off several shots. He felt her fingers dig into his shirt and heard her heart race against his own. His Trina. His love. His wife. His heart.

“It’s clear!” Sullivan called as the shots ceased.

He sighed.

Sam got to his knees and helped her uncurl from the ball she’s instinctive huddled into under him. Safe. Shaken, a bit bruised and covered in dirt, but alive. Safe. Those green eyes staring into his fucking soul. Her hands in his as he helped her up.

“Baby…”

“Sam.”

She buried her face into his chest. He could feel the wet tears through his sweat-soaked shirt. He pulled her closer, her entire body almost wrapped with his own. He kissed the top of her head. All he wanted to do was protect her. To keep her safe.

“Right here, I’m right here…” he said softly, as much to settle himself as it was to calm her.

“I…”

“I know. I know.” He hugged her tighter, almost afraid he might hurt her, but able to stop. His heart ached. He could’ve lost her. So easily, in a moment, she could’ve been taken from him. “Are you hurt?”

“No… you?”

“I’m good, baby. As long as you’re okay.”

She nodded into his chest and he kissed her cheek.

“Kids, we should probably get going in case they’ve got friends,” Sullivan added.

He sighed. “He’s right.”

“Okay. I just… I need my gun…”

Slowly, she stepped back out of his embrace as Sullivan approached, offering her up the weapon.

“Right here, darlin’,” he said softly.

Trina took the gun and he watched her check the safety and put it in her holster while he rubbed her back. He say her start to relax and also regain her composure.

“Who were these guys?”

“No idea,” he said, shaking his head. “But they were definitely trailing us. I’m with Victor, we need to hurry.”

“Okay,” she said, then wiped her eyes dry. “Uh, shovel?”

He looked at his wife at the strong and capable woman she’d become. Rafe had tried to destroy her and he failed.

“No, no, you see she’s my wife, not yours. How long have you been fucking him, Trina? Huh? This is why you didn’t want me to kill him, huh?” Rafe hissed, his gun jammed in her ribs.

“Rafe, you’re hurting me…”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.”

“You son of a bitch! Let her go!”

“No, can you bring the boat closer? We’ll get this dug up. It’ll be faster.”

She nodded, sniffling slightly.

“C’mere.”

He pulled her back into his arms again, kissing her other cheek. “I’ll be right here. I love you. God, it scared the shit out of me, but you’re so smart and brave, babe…”

“Can you promise me something?” she asked, looking up at him with those eyes. He was helpless against those emerald eyes.

“Anything,” he said and he meant every damn bit of it.

“I never want to come back to Panama again.”

“Deal.”

Park

Present

There were very few times in his life he could say seeing Nadine Ross was a welcome surprise. But this was one of those times.

Right now, she was the best protection for Trina. He trusted the ex-merc to do whatever it took to keep his wife safe. Because somehow, Nadine had decided to take that role on. And he knew Nadine was more than capable of handling threats. Shit, she’d kicked both his and Nate’s ass at the same time.

Nadine handed him the canvas duffel. Sure enough he recognized the bag as his own. He hoped it had been packed by someone else or at least at Trina's direction. The idea of Nadine rifling through his home and belongings was still uncomfortable given their time at odds in Scotland. It probably always would.  

“Thought you might want this while Elena makes arrangements,” she said softly, handing him a long thin piece of leather with a delicate ring on it. The inside of the ring was inscribed “Sic Parvis Magna”. It was the twin to the one on his left hand.

Trina's wedding ring.

He slipped the leather around his neck, touching the cold metal. He hated the thought of her without her ring, but it was actually a brilliant strategy to give it to him. It only helped sell their story about Trina's death even more.

“Thank you.”

The South African nodded. “See you on the ground, Drake.”

Fucking Panama. He wasn’t going to let it take anything else from him. Not ever again. He wasn’t going to lose Trina to that infernal place. They were coming home to their son together.

And he’d kill anyone in his way.

Chapter Text

A Thief’s Past

Chapter Twenty-six: Doubled

Sam & Trina’s

Morning

Chloe sipped at a mug of coffee as she looked down at Trina still tangled in bed. When she’d peeked in last night, she’d found the redhead crashed out in the bed with her head on one pillow and partially burrowed inside one of Sam’s shirts.

She’d never seen Trina so still. In fact, of the two Drakes, Sam was perhaps the calmer. His nerves were steadied by a steady stream of nicotine while Trina seemed to have to keep moving and busy to deal with hers.

“She still alive?” Nadine asked, appearing in the doorway.

“Of course. First thing I checked.”

“Uh huh. If she’s a goner, you’re telling him.”

“Why me?!”

“You were watching her. I had to drop off a bag, remember?”

Chloe gasped. “You sneaky, manipulative—“

“Ah, ah! Rude!”

She rolled her eyes. Nadine Ross continued to surprise her. The world was full of new things. Anything was possible.

“Sam?” Trina’s bleary voice called, her hands patting the empty bed beside her as she started to sit up.

“So much for letting sleeping Drakes lie.” Chloe took another sip of her coffee. “Hey, sleeping beauty.”

Nate & Elena’s

Later

Nate looked up from the table with bleary eyes when he heard the front door open. He’d been meaning to pack but hadn’t gotten to it yet. He was too busy going over Drake’s journal. He’d carefully inserted the missing pages Sam had found then dragged his old journals out of the attic.

“Hey, Chloe,” he called, turning back to the journal.

“Sorry, we had to make a few stops.”

“No worries.”

“Hi, Nate,” said a soft voice, one he’d thought he’d never hear again.

Nate dropped the journal and looked up. “Trina? But… you… Sam…”

“It was the safest way,” she said and he finally took in her current status. She had on a loose t-shirt and sweats with one of Sam’s shirts over it, unbuttoned, and swamping her frame. Her left arm was in a lightweight cast focused around her wrist. There was also a small bandage on her head and some small scratches here and there. She looked worn out and he could see fading bruises on her pale skin.

Her right hand rested gently against her side, where she’d been stabbed.

“How bad?” he asked.

“They got rid of the worst of the infection and restitched it. I’m on a lot of antibiotics and a lot of pain meds. Same with my wrist. Chipped the bone when I fractured it. But I’ll heal. Sam knows about my wrist.”

“He knows you’re alive?”

“We’ve been texting. Just enough. He knows I’m alive. We knew Sara would try to kill me at the meet so we had a back-up plan.”

“So that’s why Sam isn’t–”

“Completely destroyed? Yes. I mean… he already lost me, Nate. Being numb would be expected.”

He nodded. It made sense now. How Sam sounded normal. How he’d been able to function. How he’d been able to crack jokes. How he’d been his big brother. Trina was still alive. Badly injured, more so then she’d ever tell any of them, but alive and Sam knew. And he couldn’t blame him. If it was Elena, he’d have done the same.

“We have to go to Panama. I know Sam promised–”

Without warning, she rushed to the kitchen sink. Before he could stand up, he heard her retching. And almost instantly, Chloe and Nadine had circled the wagons, Nadine at the ready with a glass of water, while Chloe rubbed her back. It was bizarre.

“Trina? You ok?” Nate asked.

The sounds stopped and he watched her sip some water before responding. “I’m ok. I… it’s the meds. And the stress.”

“If I thought it was anywhere else…”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“It’s ok, that’s where we’ll go.”

He frowned. “We?”

“I’m coming along. I’m not leaving Sam around that psycho bitch.”

“Yes! Meet Chloe Frazer,” Chloe said, gesturing to Trina.

“What?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nadine said. “Trina’s coming with us as Chloe. Wig, accent, and all.”

“Wait… did you all… plan this?”

“Yes,” the three women confirmed.

Trina watched the wheels turn in Nate’s head as Elena came down the stairs.

“I thought I heard voices,” her sister-in-law said at the same time Henry cried, “Mama! Mama!”

Her heart jumped in her throat as she reached for her son. “There’s my handsome boy! Mama’s here!”

She bit back tears as he jostled not only her arm but his little feet connected with her stomach right near the stitches holding her together. She did her best to adjust him and his weight to minimize the impact on her wounds without giving up a chance to hold her son. She’d already missed enough time with him.

“There’s my little guy.” She kissed his cheeks and he giggled. “My baby boy. You having fun with Aunt Elena?”

“Mama!”

“Mama’s here. I’m here. My sweet, sweet Henry. You’re gonna have a good time with Aunt Elena and Aunt Chloe. I gotta help daddy and your Uncle Nate, okay?”

He rubbed his head into her chest and it ached. She hated to leave him again. Trina hated having to choose. Between her son and her husband. She’d gone through so much for them. They both needed her.

Right now, in this moment, Sam needed her more. Otherwise, their son might never get a chance to know his father.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Mmmwah.”

Henry squealed happily as she kissed on him and tickled him. She needed things to be normal. Henry needed normal. He deserved it. Their son would have the life Sam and Nate didn’t have. She’d find a way.

Thank God for Elena. She gave stability. Routine. And love. Everything Henry needed now more than ever.

“Well, Auntie Chloe wants dibs first!”

“Oheey!”

Trina couldn’t stop herself. She had to laugh. It was adorable and awkward and she just knew Sam would love it. Aunt Oheey.

“We’ll have to work on your pronunciation,” Chloe mused, having picked him up. “It’s ok, we’ll blame it on your daddy. Anyone who’s met him will understand.”

Elena snorted.

“I feel like I should, like, defend him,” Trina said.

“Oh, don’t worry. It’s Sam. It’s like Nate—I expect him to destroy a certain percentage of things, especially lost ruins—and know he’ll try not to, but things tend to explode around him.”

“I mean, he does have a track record…”

“HEY!” Nate called from the table, finally catching on.

“Ssh, go pack,” Elena said, waving her husband off. “And Sam, we’ll he’s an injury magnet. And more casual speech wise.”

“It’s okay, I know I married a jailbird. A felon. A degenerate.”

“A Drake.”

“There are worse things,” Trina said. “I was married to Rafe Adler once.”

Elena sighed. “Yeah, well, I’ve married Nate twice. The things we do for them.”

Sam & Trina’s

Two Months Before Henry’s Birth

Sam trudged into their bedroom, wearing copious amounts of blue paint on his clothes. There were even streaks in his brown hair. Trina tried not to laugh from her spot on their bed, one hand lazily rubbing her rounded stomach.

“Sam, babe, did any of the paint make it on the wall?”

“Huh?”

“You… you’re very blue.”

“That’s ridiculous.” He stripped off his t-shirt and kicked off his shoes. “I was painting the walls, not myself.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

She beckoned him closer with a finger. He let out a dramatic sigh and padded closer just in his jeans and socks. She knew he had a hard time saying no to her right now when she was seven months along, her stomach all popped out and rounded with their son. Which drove him nuts. He had a serious addiction to kissing and touching her pregnant stomach.

Trina kissed his cheek, ran a hand through his brown hair, and then touched his bare chest. And instantly left a blue handprint there over his tattoo.

“Babe, you’re 80% paint.”

He glanced down and sure enough, he could see it too. “Fine! I’ll shower.”

She shook her head as he disappeared into the bathroom, rubbing her stomach with her non-blue hand. “Your daddy is something else, Henry. He always has been. But he’s not a handyman. We love him for trying though. Just remember that.”

Sully’s Plane

Present

“You good, ja?”

Trina looked up at Nadine, still groggy from her surgery and all the drugs. She’d been in and out much of the night and the flight so far. Some of it was from the pain. Some from exhaustion. A bit of it was from the copious amounts of medication in her system to combat the infection and also to keep her moving with the pain, stitches, and other new scars she’d have to learn to cover. It was a good thing Sam didn’t expect a flawless model on his arm, unlike Rafe.

“Getting there. It’ll be better with Sam.”

The South African woman nodded. “Balance. That’s what you do. You balance each other out. Can’t believe how blind we all were back then. It’s obvious.”

“Me and Sam?” She pulled the shirt he’d given her tighter. It still smelled like him even though it looked a bit worse for the wear after what happened. Nadine had made sure to rescue it from shears or a medical waste bin. It was a small bit of Sam she could hold onto until she got the real Sam back. 

“Very. He gets flustered and nervous without you. Had to crush pills in his coffee so he’d shut up and sleep for a bit. So much pacing.”

She couldn’t help but let a sliver of a smile through. “I’m glad you and Chloe were here to help. He’s… well, he’s Sam.”

“Oh, that he is.”

She sighed. “It wasn’t supposed to be this hard. With Rafe gone, it was supposed to be easy. We were supposed to be safe at home. Just us and Henry. Now…”

“I can get security–”

“No.” Trina shook her head, regretting it even as she did it, temples throbbing. “Absolutely not. I won’t live in a prison. I did that with Rafe and I… I won’t do that again.”

“Well, there’s options and measures we can take. Later. You need anything?”

“Besides Sam?”

Nadine nodded. “Ja. And the little one.”

“Nothing right now.”

The former mercenary attempted a comforting pat on the back as she moved through the seaplane to go upfront where Sullivan was.

He looked up from the controls. Unlike most of his passengers, he was fresh and wide-awake. Someone had to be.

“You know, you can sit this one out,” he said after she settled down beside him in the empty co-pilot chair.

“You know I can’t leave Sam on his own out there.”

“Trina, you've been through the wringer. Your body is tired. You're hurting. We can keep an eye on Sam–keep him safe. I swear to ya.”

“I know, Sully. But I have to see this through. I have to be there. I just know she's going to try something again and Sam won't see it coming… and–I can't lose him, Sully. I can't. I have to be there. You protect Nate. Nadine will look after me. I need to look after Sam. Someone has to. I'd be lost without him.”

“You matter just as much as he does. You're a part of this family too. Don't you forget that.”

With a sad smile, she said, “I won't. I promise. After all, what would we do without Grandpa Sully?”

He snorted. “I don’t know about that, kid. I mean, I’m the one—“

“It wasn’t your fault, Victor,” she said. “You didn’t know. I know you did everything you could. Besides, I got to hold my son again. I thought I was going to die in that damn apartment, alone, without getting to say good-bye to him or Sam or anyone and then I got to hold him again. And then it was ok. I was ok if they killed me because I got to see my son again.”

Sullivan shook his head. “I’ll never understand how you can still see the good in the worst things. Anyone else…”

“Sully, my son has one Grandpa. And you’re it. No matter what.”

Panama

Mid-day

Sam cursed under his breath again as they neared the rendezvous point. Trina had been mostly silent the entire time via text which hadn't helped. Elena sent him Henry updates every few hours which at least helped ease some anxiety. It wasn't often you had your wife “murdered” and your son kidnapped by a psycho ex scheming with an ex-partner. Both of which wanted to screw you over.

He didn't know what to expect. Nate had been gutted, too. Both him and Trina should be resting, not trekking through hell to find an item he didn't give a shit about. But that was the deal he'd made. To buy them time. To buy safety for his family.

Nadine came into view first with a fairly typical scowl. She was dressed for the weather in loose trousers tucked into her boots and a tank top. Sully stood near her, missing a cigar, but in his standard pants and Hawaiian shirt, with a map spread out. Both had guns holstered clearly in sight.

Seated in a 4x4, his fingers drumming the steering wheel, was Nathan. Nadine had probably threatened to shoot him if he got out. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he looked good from here. Hopefully he’d gotten some shut eye on the plane.

Then he finally saw her. The dark wig threw him off at first. The rest of the uncanny Chloe look also had him second guessing which woman was there.

Relaxed jeans and a belt pouch fit loosely around her waist and the combination leather and cloth wrap or bracer on her left wrist distracted him for a long moment. The t-shirt was plain but the long whisps of dark hair around Trina's face threw him. Not to mention the lack of green eyes. She was both herself and Chloe but also neither. 

It did confirm she was still alive and in decent health at least. He couldn’t see any lasting harm from Nadine's bullet, at least, not yet. Not that she’d betray any signs of injury. He still remembered her following him around Libertalia, despite taking a bullet to her side, and hiding it from him.

“Big crowd,” Ben muttered, annoyed.

“I told you, I needed help. Nathan's got more knowledge about Francis Drake in his pinky than I've got in my entire body.”

“Who's the boss bitch? Another ex?” Sara hissed, tense like a cat. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Nadine laughed. “Like I'd want anything to do with him. No, just a… colleague I guess. We've worked together before. I'm the muscle.”

Nathan coughed somewhere between a laugh and a choke. Sully shot him a pointed look. “I guess that makes me the brains.”

“Means I'm the beauty then, love,” Trina said in a near perfect mimicry of Chloe's Australian accent.

“Another woman, Sam? Honestly…” Sara growled. 

“You've got it wrong,” Trina said. “Nate's… well, we used to–”

“Sex! We used to have sex,” Nate said, despite it sounding a bit strangled. “That… that came out wrong.”

“All right. So that's Nadine Ross, ex-merc,” Sully said, taking over introductions. “She’s freelance now and doing me a favor. Chloe Frazer, thief and family friend. You already know Nate. Can we get this show on the road?”

Sara huffed, “I don't know, Sully, did boy genius figure out where to go?”

“I feel very attacked right now. Almost like I got stabbed,” Nate hissed toward the blonde. 

“You wanna get stabbed again?”

“Children! Enough. Quit your bickering and pick seats. We've got two cars so spread out. Nate is driving lead car. Nadine, you're driving the other mainly because of insurance. Unless someone has $50,000 they'd rather put in my pocket–”

“Extortion.”

“Bribery.”

“Obscene.”

“Now that the peanut gallery has said their piece…” Sully climbed into the passenger seat of Nate's car. “Seats. Let's go. Burning daylight here.”

“Yeah, yeah, gimme a sec here.” Sam went to check Nate over. “You good, little brother? I do mean good. If you die, I'm pretty sure Elena will kill me.”

“Hey, could you not…” Nate grumbled.

Nate looked tired. Rundown. He felt a bit feverish but it was also a goddamn swamp in the jungle so that would make anyone clammy. He took a quick look at the bandages on his brother's stomach and sighed noting no dark spots or blood seeping through. At least not yet.

“I told ya, I'm fine,” his brother said.

“Yeah, well, I'm not losing anyone else I care about. Got it? Be careful for once!”

“I'm always careful!”

Almost on cue, there was a chorus of snorts and laughs from Sullivan, Nadine, and Trina. 

“Let’s get moving, huh?” Ben suggested. “Unless you need a reminder of what you could still lose.”

“Okay, just for that, I think you should find your own transportation. I don't want you near my family.”

His former partner rolled his eyes. “So dramatic, Samuel. I'm not the one who killed your wife. Sara did, remember? She pulled the trigger and boom! No more Trina Drake.”

His fingers curled into fists out of habit. God, he hated that smug bastard. Even before he broke into his home, threatened his son, and stabbed his wife. Ben White needed to come down a few pegs. Fucking prick.

“We really should get going,” Trina said in that uncanny Chloe voice. “Sam, you riding with us?”

He looked between the two 4x4s. Sara and Ben would have to split up between the vehicles. Most likely Ben would insist on riding along with him which left Sara to be inflicted on the other car. 

As much as he didn't want that psycho bitch near his brother, Sara near Trina was dangerous. 

“Yeah, I figure I'll pop in the back with you. Ben can sit with Nadine if he wants or they can both ride with Sully,” he said.

Trina nodded nonchalantly as she hopped into the back of the 4x4 with a smooth grace despite her injuries. He still couldn’t believe she was here. So close and yet so far. But alive. Unless he was hallucinating.

“Should I just shoot them now?” he heard Nadine stage whisper.

“No, no, that's for after. Then you kneecap them,” his wife said cheerfully. It was both Chloe and her at the same time. He could easily hear Trina suggesting the same thing. And see a sparkle in her green eyes at the mere suggestion.

If this is a dream, don’t let me wake up. Don’t make me live without her.

Chapter Text

A Thief's Past

Chapter Twenty-seven: Affairs of the Heart

Scotland

Rafe & Trina's Wedding

He was four beers deep before they reached the altar and chain smoking like a man about to die. In a way, it was a funeral. The first woman he truly loved was down there, selling her body, soul, and very life to the devil, and there was nothing he could do. He'd just get them both killed.

Rafe already hated him. If he suspected he had eyes for Trina–just eyes–then Trina was in danger. Because even if it was Sam crossing the line, Rafe was unhinged enough to punish her instead. The small, delicate, and fiery spirit hiding inside the painted doll on the rich asshole's arm wouldn’t survive.

Rafe liked breaking fragile things. Sam had seen his work before. Not just to her.

He wasn't gonna give that bastard extra reasons to harm her. Rafe could never know how it killed him. How he ached to be the one at her side, the one she could cling to in public, the one she could share a bed and a life with. 

Sam despised being the other man. He wanted her always. To be able to spontaneously whisk her away somewhere. To introduce her to Nathan. To sit down for a nice dinner somewhere without playing a covert game of footsie under the table. 

He wanted to go to sleep with Trina in his arms at night and wake up with her still there in the morning. To not have to hide his feelings or share her. 

“—now pronounce you man and wife, you may kiss the bride!”

As expected, Rafe Adler wasted no time in going to town and spared little decency for the onlookers. It wasn't a chaste peek. It was raw, rough, brutal. He even managed to draw blood from her lip. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Rafe Adler, everyone!”

There were polite claps and a few cheers from the quasi-bewildered audience. 

Sam lit a fresh cigarette while he still had one between his lips. It took a few tries with his hands shaking. He stayed up here, perched above the altar and the crowd. Where he wouldn’t give himself away. Where he could resist the urge to strangle Rafe. The urge to interrupt the wedding and run away with her.

Below, she should have glowed, being a new bride. Instead he saw a part of her, a spark of her, die.

They were both truly and utterly trapped.

“I’mma getcha you outta here, I swear. I'll getcha out, Trin.”

Panama

Present

She ached.

Being near Sam and not touching him was torture. It was Scotland and Rafe all over again.

It was so normal to brush past each other, or rub the other's back, to share a quick kiss or peck on the cheek, or any amount of affection. To lean into him. To touch him. To feel him hold her. They both were so touch starved that they over compensated now. They were practically inseparable. 

She wanted her husband. To know it was ok. That they would walk away from this together and go home to their son.

But they were too affectionate. They'd get carried away and get caught.

She couldn't touch him.

Trina needed to put her walls up. She couldn't get close to Sam. Not without blowing her cover. It was too obvious. They were too obvious.

“Hey, Chloe. Thanks for coming along,” Sam said.

“Of course!” Trina said in her best Chloe voice. “I mean, I can't resist a good treasure hunt, but I'm always here for you and Nate. Don't forget that.”

She patted his leg, resisting the urge to squeeze his thigh or otherwise tease him. She had to be Chloe. Flirty, yes, but Chloe. Chloe who wasn't in love with her ex's brother. Mainly because Chloe only knew Sam with Trina. And even thieves had boundaries and morals. And Chloe knew very much how enmeshed they were. She'd seen it in India. When Trina had been pregnant with Henry. When Asav tortured Sam. Chloe would never try to steal Sam.

And she was Chloe. She had to be Chloe. Because being Trina Drake would get her killed. And her family could be collateral damage and she couldn’t let that happen.

“‘Course. Still getting used to the whole having a village thing.”

“You will. I've got faith. Now let's find us a Jewel!”

“That’s Nate’s thing. I’m just here for my family, not the treasure.”

Sam, my Sam…

Trina did the worst thing she could do. She grabbed his left hand and placed her good hand over it. Over his wedding ring. The one she’d placed on his finger not quite two year ago on a beach with just them and Victor.

I’m here, baby. I’m here. Sam, please…

She saw the tension in his jaw. The pain in his face.

I’m here… I’m right here!

“I know,” she said in Chloe’s voice, trying to hide her own pain. “Still hard not to get a bit of thrill chasing it. It’s an addiction.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nadine added from the front. “For some of us, it’s just a job, not skydiving. We’re not all adrenaline junkies.”

“You’re no fun, love.”

“Someone has to keep you from getting yourself killed.”

From the front seat, Ben chuckled. “I get it now… Sara has nothing to worry about because Nathan Drake put you off men.”

“That’s not–” Trina started to defend Chloe, for Chloe’s sake, while Nadine sputtered in the driver’s seat.

A quick touch from Sam on her thigh was all it took. This was the opening they needed. Lie or not, it would protect them.

“It is, isn’t it?” Ben pushed, practically grinning ear-to-ear. Like the freaking cat who ate the canary. 

“I…” Trina looked up at Nadine, pretending it was Sam sitting there, gobsmacked. “I don’t know what to say. But there’s no one else I’d rather be fighting alongside. Even though you annoy the shit out of me and have a mean right hook.”

“Shut it, Frazer. We’re not doing this right now to fulfill some lesbian fantasy from our tagalog. And Drake, you’re gonna catch bugs if you don’t close your mouth.”

Scotland

Four Years Ago

Bodies crashed into each other. Mouths and lips and tongues and teeth.

Sam kicked the bedroom door shut with his booted foot. Rafe had left on a plane forty-five minutes ago and now they had at least thirty hours without him while he sat through some board meetings in New York. And Trina, his beautiful, darling Trina, only got to stay behind because the bastard had given her a black eye dark enough this week that she couldn't hide it with makeup. Which pissed him the fuck off but also meant she was in his arms at the moment.

So now, he pushed her black dress up around her hips as he pressed her lithe body against the wall just inside the suite he called his own. She moaned, her body clearly already on fire and craving his touch. She rocked against him, those delicate fingers tugging at his belt, reminding him why they were there. Not that he needed reminding. No, Sam was painfully aware that it had been two weeks since their last kiss, three weeks and four days since he'd been able to give her a quick and dirty relief under her skirt with his fingers in the library while she cried into his shoulder, and over five weeks since he'd had a chance at any measurable alone time with her.

“Sam, please, please, I can't… I need…”

He kissed her again, claiming her mouth, as badly as he wanted to take her body.

Sam felt her lock her legs around his waist clumsily. Or at least, try to.

He fixed the problem, using his hands to cup and squeeze her ass as he swiftly carried her to the bed. He'd planned on a longer, more drawn-out seduction, one worthy of the beautiful woman moaning beneath him, but there would be time for that.

“Sam!” she cried, before tilting her head back, dissolving into a mess of cries and moans and wordless encouragement, her entire body trembling and overwhelmed just from him inserting two fingers. 

“God, babe, you are a mess…”

Her breaths came in pants as she rocked against his hand. Still wordless and completely lost to his touch.

He'd barely touched her and after another stroke, almost a tease at this point, he felt that first wave hit her and heard her cry out. 

“That’s it, babe, that's it… let me make you feel good. Fuck, you're so tense.”

He adjusted his hand and applied circular pressure to her clit and she fell apart right there in his bed, still dressed, but absolutely destroyed.

And Trina looked up at him with those emerald eyes of hers.

“Sam… my Sam, my love…”

Her hand touched his cheek and Sam Drake lost the last bit of self-control he had. 

Panama

Present

They drove for about two hours before Nate finally pulled over. He turned the engine off and Nadine did the same after pulling up alongside him.

Trina watched her husband hop out and instantly go check on his brother. He was right to worry. At the very least, Nate should be letting Sully drive. Not that he ever would, but he should. This was too much for him. She knew from experience. Shit, even with the heavy mix of pain meds in her bloodstream, her side ached, skin tearing at stitches. And while the doctors had needed to reopen, irrigate, and otherwise clean and cleanse the infection ravaging her side, she’d had more healing time than Nathan had.

But he was a Drake, and Drakes pushed through everything, even when they shouldn’t. 

It was their fatal flaw.

“The next bit is on foot, but Drake’s journal is pretty clear,” Nate said, getting out of the 4x4 with Sam’s help. A lot of help.

Guilt ate at her. He should be home, resting, with Elena. Not out here in hell. Not for something involving Sam. He didn’t have to save his older brother this time. That’s why she was here. For better and for worse. No matter what, she’d always be here for Sam. She’d go to the ends of the earth for him with a smile.

“Why don’t you stay back here?” Trina asked, knowing Chloe would want him to rest just as badly as she did.

“And miss this? No, no, you need me,” he said, stubborn. Typical Drake men. “Besides, I don’t want to miss this. Who knows what we’ll find.”

“What are we looking for, anyways?”

“Oh, boy,” Sam said with a deep sigh.

“You know what? I’m glad you asked, Chloe. So Drake used to work for Queen Elizabeth I of England. And he was knighted by her in 1581 and awarded the Drake Jewel in 1580 after returning from circumnavigating the globe and presenting her with a jewel from his travels. Now there is a Drake Jewel at a museum in England, however, it was pulled from display a few decades ago. Rumor has it, the Jewel there is actually a really, really well-made fake. Like, fake from Drake’s time.”

“Why would Queen Elizabeth have a fake made?”

Nate grinned. “See, that’s the thing, she wouldn’t. Why would she? She’s a monarch–it’s not her money. And if it got out that she was awarding fake items to courtiers, well, that’d be one hell of a scandal. Which means that Drake had a duplicate made. I mean, it’s kinda genius, since he’d have the real one that an artisan could use to make a copy from. The question then becomes why have a fake made? And then, where’s the real Jewel?”

“And that’s why we’re in Panama?” Nadine asked. “Looking for a treasure that may or may not exist?”

Nate taped the journal. “It exists, all right? Look…”

He gathered the rag tag group around the hood of his 4x4 and presented full-color prints of the Jewel. And copies of a portrait of Drake with the Jewel. “The Jewel is very, very real.”

“Of course it’s fucking real. Why do you think we’re here?” Ben hissed. “The Jewel belongs to me. You’re all going to find it, or I’ll start executing you here, one by one, right, Samuel?”

“Fuck off,” Sam snapped. He was right next to Nate’s side. Nate’s shoulder holster had a gun that Sam could easily reach. In fact, Sam was pretty much the only one of them who wasn’t armed.

God, she itched to pull her own gun and shoot her former captor. This man had tortured her. Tormented Sam. Destroyed their family. He deserved to suffer.

“I mean it. Your wife was the first. She won’t be the last. You have a lot to lose.”

“Don’t,” Nadine whispered in her ear, the other woman’s hand on her right wrist. “I see that murderous look in your eye. Don’t do it. Not yet.”

“I mean, if you want to find it yourself, you’re more than welcome to keep threatening my brother,” Nate said. “Oh, wait, you haven’t, that’s why we’re here. You need us. We don’t need you. Also there’s two of you, two of us, an ex-merc, Sully, and Chloe. So, purely, just on numbers, your odds aren’t great.”

Trina snorted, getting her dirty looks from both Sara and Ben.

“He’s got you there. We’re here as a favor. To help,” she said in her Chloe voice. “Besides, I want to know more about this Jewel. Continue, Nate.”

“Thanks, Chloe. Any objections? No? Good.” He closed the journal. “History tells us Francis Drake died off the coast of Portobelo in 1596. So that gave him sixteen years for a fake to be made and also for the real one to be brought with him, back here, to Panama.”

“Why Panama?’ Trina asked.

Nate started to lead them away from the parked 4x4s toward imposing cliffs and crumbling old structures. It reminded her both of her last trip here with Sam and also Libertalia. 

“Because, on his previous trip, the one that ended with good old Queen Bess knighting Drake, the one which was shrouded in secrecy, I think he left something behind for the Queen.”

“What? A treasure? An enemy?”

“A child.”

They fell into a weird mixture, Nate leading, Sam at his side for support, Trina not too far from the brothers, Nadine close to her back, and Ben, Sara, and Sully bringing up the rear. It was a bit strategic for Ben and Sara - allowing them to keep an eye on all the threats and also forcing them to go first at any obstacles.

“Who’s child?”

“Robert Dudley,” Nate said with a smirk. “One of the sheets you got from that museum had a reference to the Earl of Leicester, which was one of his titles. He was her favorite and even had adjoining chambers to hers. In 1561, she had a long illness, not long after his wife died from an unattended fall. He was suspected of murder despite being at court at the time.”

“Unlucky bastard,” Sully remarked.

Adjoining chambers… we’d have gotten into so much trouble, Sam. Even being in separate parts of the house, we still found places. I don’t know how we didn’t get caught. Not that we didn’t get too close for comfort…

She could still remember trying to carry on a normal conversation with Rafe in the kitchen in Scotland, making coffee, while Sam hid under the countertop. As if he hadn’t had his fingers curled inside her moments before they heard Rafe approaching.

“That’s still like… twenty years before Drake went around the globe. How do you hide an illegitimate child for twenty years?” Trina asked.

“Most didn’t survive to adulthood at the time. It’s likely Elizabeth had someone she trusted to keep him close in England while he grew up. Dudley’s only legitimate child died at three in 1584.”

“So Dudley and Elizabeth were banging.”

Nate cringed. “They had an affair, Sam. They weren't you in high school.”

“Not cool, baby brother.”

“I mean, you were the expert on risky affairs. Elizabeth knew having an heir, especially a male heir could lose her the throne. People would gladly usurper her for a son, even if the father was Dudley who was basically a traitorous commoner.”

“All because he'd have royal blood and a dick.”

Trina groaned. “It’s always, always about your cocks, I swear. Bloody Americans.”

Sam shrugged it off. “It was the times, my dear. Women were valued for bringing life into the world. Men were valued for brawn and manhood.”

“And cocks.”

“And our cocks, yes.”

He tried not to react to her voice even in that fake accent. But it was fucking hard to be so close to the woman he loved and so far at same time. Especially when she kept saying “cocks” like it was nothing.

“If you're gonna whip them out and measure them, please go ahead and get it over with. We're wasting daylight,” Nadine remarked, completely bored and unimpressed.

“Who's measuring dicks?” Sara asked, suddenly looking interested. “I mean, I already can tell you Samuel's–”

“I'm gonna hurl,” Nate said.

“You're gonna hurl? Get in line, sweetheart,” Trina said, looking a bit green. “I do not need that mental image in my brain but now it's there and…”

“Chloe?” Sam called, concerned. 

“Move!” Nadine said, leaping into action just in time to help hold Trina’s wig back and rub her back as she got sick in a nearby bush.

It physically pained him to not go to her side. Especially when Nadine Ross got to be the one comforting her. It was so wrong on many levels. 

“Eww!” Sara squealed.

“Okay, I think that's enough cock talk,” Sully said, somehow the voice of reason. 

India

Two Years Ago

Trina retched into the toilet as Sam held her hair back, his free hand rubbing her back. It was definitely her least favorite thing about being pregnant so far.

“I gotcha,” he murmured.

She reached to squeeze his leg in response before getting sick again.

“I know, I know, if I could take it away, I would. I hate seeing you like this.”

She flushed the toilet. “I know,” she said softly, her throat burning some.

“You should be at home. With Nate and Elena.”

“No, I belong right here, with you.”

“Trin, babe…”

She winced. “Please, I can’t, Sam. I can’t go home and wonder about you. I need to be here. Our baby and I belong here–with you. We are better together. A team.”

She felt his breath against the back of her neck. Heard him sigh. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“Never. I’m with you till the bitter end, Drake. Don’t you forget that.” 

Panama

Present

After being force-fed water by Nadine once the puking stopped, Trina managed to get back to her feet. She was still a bit unsteady but better than before. It had to be the pain meds. That and personal disgust.

“Okay, now for the hard part,” Nate announced. “The next part is mostly caves. Nadine, you got the gear?”

“Of course. Flashlights and grapples for everyone. Everyone will need to work together. Leave no one behind. We don't have an even number so the buddy system isn't enough.”

“I mean we can leave some people behind,” Trina muttered, taking a rope and a flashlight from Nadine who gave her a death stare.

“Kid, how far?” Sullivan asked.

“A little ways. Why?”

“Nate, she's right. It's uneven. Besides, I get hurt, you're dragging my ass around. I'll stay here. You pair off. Safer that way.”

“But you'll miss it, Sully! C'mon, just think about it. Treasure. Gold, jewels…”

He touched Nate’s shoulder. “I know, kid. I'll be right here so you can tell me all about it.”

“You shouldn’t stay by yourself, Sullivan,” Trina said.

“I’ll be fine.” He patted his holster. “I think this part is best saved for the young. Humor an old man, will ya?”

She sighed. “Fine. But anything weird happens, head back to the 4x4s, please?”

“Yes, dear,” Victor said with a half-smile, humoring her. 

“At least for Nathan’s sake. I cannot deal with him if anything happens to you. Got it?”

“We’re wasting time,” Ben snapped. “Either the fossil joins us or he stays. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Fossil?” Nate bristled.

“Hey, hey, don’t waste your breath, little brother. He doesn’t have the brain cells for comprehension. C’mon, let’s go. Besides you never did say why Drake would leave Dudley’s kid in fucking Panama of all places.”

Trina watched her brother-in-law deflate. “Sully, we’ll be back as soon as we can.”

“Go, kid.”

Nate flicked on his flashlight and went into the cave first, Sam on his heels.

Chapter Text

A Thief’s Past

Chapter Twenty-eight: Rope

Panama

Seventeen Years Ago

Sam ducked and the bottle shattered over his head, dripping sudsy remains of beer on the apartment wall as the brown glass fell around him harmlessly.

“Seriously?! What the fuck, Sara?”

“You’re the one leaving!”

“Yeah, FOR A JOB! Jesus, we’ve been talking about this for months. Remember? It’s not like I woke up today and thought, gee, a Panamanian prison sounds like fun!”

She just let out a wordless shriek of what sounded like frustration. Or maybe she was trying to summon demon. He wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was it was time to leave.

“Look, we’re done. There’s… this isn’t working. It hasn’t for a while.”

“You don’t get to leave me!”

Another glass at his head, this time a tumbler. It too shattered on the wall as he moved for cover and also to retrieve his boots and already packed bag. Thankfully he’d already packed everything this afternoon in anticipation of leaving to meet up with Nathan. He hadn’t been expecting the flying glassware though.

“You’re fucking crazy!”

The next bottle almost hit him but he ducked behind the couch to shove his feet inside his boots. He’d lace them up outside. Away from her.

“How could you do this to me, Samuel? I love you!”

“You’re throwing shit at my head!”

The blonde started crying, her make-up streaking across her face almost immediately. It was nothing short of clownish. 

“You need help.”

“Don’t leave me… don’t leave me! I’ll be better! I’ll do anything! Samuel, please…”

He stood up, bag in hand, almost to the apartment door when she reached him on her knees, tugging at him, and almost slithering around him like a snake.

“I’ll do anything… DON’T LEAVE! SAM!”

Sam looked down at the hysterical woman and he felt nothing but revulsion, especially as she tried to undo his belt. He brushed her hands off and backed up.

“Sara, stop it! We’re done. We’re done. It’s DONE. I don’t want to ever see you again.”

“No, no, no!”

He pried her fingers from his pants leg. “I mean it. We’re through. Good-bye, Sara. Get some help. You need it.”

He let the door slam behind him as he heard her wail his name.

Panama

Present

As they descended into darkness, Sam couldn’t help but think about the caves in Libertalia. About helping a heavily concussed Trina while Rafe taunted them both. He’d been pretty sure they’d die there. Maybe in the cave. Certainly in Libertalia.

“If there’s bats, I swear, I’m killing one of you,” Sara said with a tremor in her voice.

“Not if I shoot you first,” Nadine warned.

“Bats are more afraid of us than we should be of them. Jesus, Sam, where do you find these people?” Nate asked.

“The classifieds.”

It worried him that Trina wasn’t talking. She usually got quiet when she was trying to hide something. When she was hurt. Otherwise, she’d be snapping right along.

He hated that she had come along instead of resting. The same with Nathan. They both should be at home. Not here in hell. Not because of him. It was his job to protect his wife and his little brother. And he’d failed at both. Hell, he’d failed his son, too. 

That would be fun explaining to Henry one day. Hey, so, there was a time I thought your mom died, and also, by the way, my psycho ex kidnapped you and nearly murdered your mother in front of you. Hot dog or hamburger?

“You know, you really do look familiar. Have we met before?” Sara asked.

Sam glanced over his shoulder and noticed how uncomfortable close Sara was to Trina. Way too close. Sure, the Chloe wig and clothes were distracting and her distinctive green eyes were colored brown by contacts, but under close scrutiny it wouldn’t be too hard to discover the truth. They were only maybe three feet apart, Sara near Trina’s hook.

“Just one of those faces,” Trina said in Chloe’s accent. He could almost swear he saw her mouth “you fucking bitch”.

“Hmm,” scoffed his ex. She stared at Trina again for another long moment before moving on, putting distance between them.

Trina just seemed to be hanging there, almost frozen.

Nate was ahead of him, energized by the hunt. Just like when they were kids. This was the Nathan he knew. The explorer. The treasure hunter. The history buff. The daredevil.

Sam lowered himself and dropped to a different ledge to get closer to his wife. He knew something was wrong. He just knew it. He knew his wife.

“Chloe? You good?”

He was almost within reach of her. The light was low, but even with his flashlight, he could see something on her side. It looked wet.

No, no, no…

“Wasn’t expecting so much climbing,” she breathed and he could see the pain on her face.

And then she was falling.

Her rope almost creaked on the grapple as she hung there. She could feel the wetness on her side. Her stitches were pulled again. And it was showing. She knew it was when Sam came back down to check on. She knew that look on her husband’s face all too well.

Suddenly, her rope snapped and she was falling.

“Sam!” she screamed, reaching an arm toward him as she fell. Flashes of the boat off Libertalia flooded her mind. Of being pulled out of his reach. Separated.

“Trina! I gotcha!”

The fear in her husband’s voice dug at her.

His hand closed around her right wrist, jerking her to a halt. She locked her hand on his forearm to strengthen their tenuous hold on each other.

“I got ya. I'm not gonna let anything bad happen to ya. Just hold on.”

“Okay, okay…” she gasped, stitches tearing at her skin further while her good arm clung to her husband. Sam was all that stood between her and certain death. They were high enough up the fall would kill her. In fact, they'd probably been too close to each other traversing the area but it also meant they were too far away for anyone else to get to them quickly. There was no easy hand-off. No rescue. Just them, relying on each other.

“Chloe!” Nadine called.

“Hanging in there, love!” she shouted back with more confidence than she felt.

“Sam? What's going on over there?” Nate asked, clearly worried.

“Rope snapped. Little busy! Chloe, I need you to grab me with your other hand, too. So then you can climb up and tie your rope to me. We'll be hooked together, got it?”

“Got it!”

Trina tried not to cry out as she twisted her body, trying to reach up with her broken wrist. She didn't look down. She only looked up at Sam. 

But she couldn't quite reach at first. She kept coming up short.

“I gotcha. Not letting go.”

With a loud groan, she swung up and finally managed to grab Sam's arm with both her hands. Her legs dangled uselessly as she put her bad hand over her good one to cling to him. Sam grunted.

“Now what?”

“Climb. Hurry. Grip's slipping a bit.”

One hand over the other, she tried to pull herself up. He'd readjusted and helped her steady as much as possible but they were both in a bad spot. And now they were short a grapple.

Blood dripped from her side and she could feel herself beginning to lose consciousness slowly. There was a woozy feeling tugging at her that hadn’t been present before.

“Sam…”

“Tie your rope to me.”

“But–”

“Trin, please…”

She looked at her husband’s pleading face and nodded, trying to toss her useless rope around his waist and tie it off as he supported her against his body. If one of them fell, they would both fall now. They’d go down together. Looking at Sam’s face she knew he preferred it that way. The guilt ate at her.

“Just need to get to the next ledge. There’s a flat spot. You climb first.”

“Okay, okay.”

Stitches pulling at her sides and her arm on fire, she pulled herself up the rope to a rock ledge where the grapple was. They’d have to still hook to the next spot to get to safety. She just had to hold on for now while Sam climbed.

It was entirely too close for comfort. If he hadn’t gone to check on her, there was no one close enough to catch her. He’d have lost Trina for good this time. No one would survive the fall.

And sure enough, she was bleeding. He’d felt it when he’d held her in place. It coated his hands now.

Stay with me, Trin. Please. Just hold on.

He climbed the rope quickly to the ledge. She was breathing hard now as she held onto the rock face.

“Babe?”

“Keep going,” she said.

He tossed the grapple to the next ledge and lowered himself some.

“You first, babe. We’ll rest there. Nadine’ll have an extra hook.”

She climbed onto the rope, pulling herself up excruciatingly slow. He followed close behind, keeping the gap between them short.

“Almost there. You can do it.”

Sam blocked out everything else except his injured wife. He had to. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. Not again. Not when he could save her this time.

Maybe ten feet left for her to reach the ledge.

He felt the blood drops now hitting him from above. “Babe?”

He saw her falter, her hands slipping along the rope. He braced against the rock face, his heart in his throat.

“Talk to me.”

“Sam, I think…”

She slipped again, dropping a few feet. He could almost reach her.

“Sam…”

Then, almost in slow motion, he watched his wife fall again and gritted his teeth, knowing any moment the rope between them would catch. He’d catch her. He had to.

He wasn’t going home without Trina.

It bit into his waist and he took a breath. The rope held. She was still attached to him.

“Trin? Talk to me. Hey!”

Below him, she stirred, moaning. 

“Talk to me, please…”

“Blacked out…”

“You hit your head?”

“Don't think so.”

“Can you climb up to me?”

She groaned again. “I think so…”

He watched her struggle to close the gap between them. He could see her rough, uneven breathing and the blood. So much blood. Her shirt was saturated. 

“I’ll help pull. Stay with me, sweetheart.”

All she could do was make pained sounds. Gasps, groans, moans, and yelps. It physically hurt him to listen and be so helpless.

She managed to reach him, sagging against his chest, panting heavily and breathing in a raspy way that worried him.

“You’re doing great. Hold onto me, babe. I’ll pull us both up. Can you do that?”

He felt her nod against him, adjusting her hold with her good arm locked around his back and her legs pretty well secured around his waist. It wasn’t ideal but hopefully it would get them both to the ledge. Then they could rest and he could assess her injuries. 

Twenty feet. He could do it. He had to. 

Step by agonizing step, Sam ascended the rock face. Each one brought them closer to relative safety.

Ten feet.

“Almost there, Trin,” he said softly so no one else could hear. It was bad enough he’d called her name earlier. It killed him to keep up the lie. But he couldn’t do anything else with her life in jeopardy. No more than she could when the roles were reversed. He still had nightmares of her screaming his name. First with Rafe, then again with Asav.

He wasn’t losing her.

Sam reached the ledge.

“Okay, climb up. You got it?”

He watched her slowly pull her upper body onto the ledge, crying out in pain. Her shirt was more blood than cloth now.

He pulled himself over the side and joined her, relieved that they were no longer dangling but on semi-solid ground. The ledge was like a deep shelf with more than enough space for them to rest and regain their strength and him to tend to her wounds.

“Samuel!”

He blinked as Nadine lowered herself beside them on the ledge. “How…?”

“You think I wasn’t climbing down after that stunt? I swear, you two are going to put me in an early grave.”

“Well, I’ll make sure to send flowers.”

“Sam…” his wife moaned.

“I gotcha, I’m right here.”

He carefully peeled her shirt up and revealed the mess below. Her bandages were soaked through with blood and he feared what lay underneath. Beneath him, she groaned again, pained whimpers on her lips.

“She must’ve tore the stitches. Damnit, she should’ve stayed with Sullivan,” Nadine muttered, rummaging through her backpack for supplies. And sure enough, there was extra water, bandages, and more.

“You and I both know there wasn’t a chance in hell of that.”

“I know. Damn Drakes.”

Sam snorted as he carefully undid the blood-soaked bandages and came face-to-face with the oozing blood and torn flesh. “Trina… babe, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Ahh!” was all she could manage in response.

“We need to clear this blood out of the way so I can stitch her up. Can you handle that, Drake?”

“Of course.”

Using some fresh bandages, he did his best to mop up his wife’s blood and then used water on some more to try and wash the pale skin. Almost every single stitch had popped or pulled through her skin. It was a warzone.

Beside him, Nadine prepared a needle and sutures. 

“You’re oddly prepared for this.”

“I spend too much time around you. I knew someone would need stitches by the end of this. I was hoping it was you.”

“You’d enjoy that a bit too much.”

“You have no idea,” Nadine said.

With practiced ease, the other woman closed up the gaping wound in his wife’s side. He held Trina’s hand, muttering to her and trying to hold her still while Nadine worked.

“Sam! You guys ok?” Nathan called from above.

“Yup, Chloe just happened to hit her, uh, head. We’ll join you. Keep going.”

“You sure?”

He looked at Nadine. She nodded. Trina wound her good hand into his shirt for support and comfort as the needle moved through her skin to slowly close up the raw, jagged wound.

“Yeah, we’re sure. Nadine’ll be up in a few. We’ll be right behind. I promise,” he said as calmly as he could. Worrying Nathan wouldn’t solve anything. 

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“See you at the top, little brother.”