Work Text:
Sam was around nine years old when it first started. He recalled the day with vivid detail, the the experience left him traumatized.
The book he was reading was “The Stolen Village” by Dev Ekins. Sam had just gotten to the paragraph where Ali watched Morat sail away when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye.
“Ammy.”
Sam smiled immediately and he stretched out his arm in silent invitation for his brother to curl up at his side. He blinked thought when Nathan did not come running like he normally did, but merely repeated his nickname, “Ammy.” Sam looked away from his book and turned towards Nathan, his brother’s complexion had turned chalky, and red at the same time, there was a sheen of sweat accumulating and pooling down Nathan’s forehead, his brother’s breathing was labored.
Sam crossed the room in a couple quick strides, kneeling down immediately and placing a hand on his baby brother’s shoulder, “Nathan? What’s wrong?” He asked, urgency seeping into his voice.
Nathan’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, “Can’t— b- breathe… ”
Sam rested a hand on Nathan’s chest and felt his heart pounding, far too quickly to be normal. Then without warning his brother’s legs gave out. Sam reacted immediately, holding his brother close to him, “Nathan!”
But his brother was now unresponsive.
Sam’s mind was practically static, he tried to remain calm tried to think. He placing his hands on Nathan’s cheeks, tilting his brothers forward and back, Sam nearly stumbled back when he saw how swollen Nathan’s neck was. Not only that but there were these deep red splotches littered all over his neck.
Labored breathing
Swollen neck
Dark splotches
The medical book he nicked from the library told him exactly what this was. His brother was having a severe allergic reaction. Sam placed his hand over Nathan’s chest and almost threw up at his slow it was. If he didn’t do something soon, Nathan was going to—
Sam knew the logical thing to do would have been to call his mom, or contact one of their neighbors but rationality went out the window the very moment when Nathan collapsed. All he could think at this point was to go, to get his brother help, somewhere safe.
“I gotcha, baby brother. You’re gonna be fine.”
He pushed down the knowledge that he didn’t really believe his words as he gathered Nathan in his arms and ran out the door onto the street. Neither of his parents were home that day. It had been just himself and Nathan. Sam felt his heart racing as his feet carried him to the nearest hospital, which was about nine miles down from their cul de sac.
Sam could hardly breathe by the time he got inside the building. “HELP!” He called out, clutching Nathan tightly to his chest. “Please, I need help!”
A nurse immediately rushed over to him, “What’s the matter?”
Sam could hardly articulate his thoughts, his hold on Nathan tightened a considerable margin. “My brother, I ran here as fast as I could, I think… he might be having an allergic reaction.”
The nurse leaned down, using gentle fingers to probe his brother to confirm his words, “Do you know what caused this?”
Sam widened his eyes, realizing he didn’t, “N-No, I was in my room I didn’t see….” He was supposed to be watching Nathan, it was his responsibility to look after his brother but instead he was in his room and Nathan ate something he shouldn’t have. “Is this my fault?”
The nurse didn't respond, instead calling a gurney over then reached out to take his brother from him. Sam tightened his arms around his brother instinctively, and the nurse gave him a sympathetic smile. “I understand your upset but your brother needs to be treated immediately or he’s going to get worse.”
Something seized in Sam's chest; he wasn't stupid; he knew how to read between the lines, so he understood what she was saying.
He had to let go of Nathan or he would die.
With shaky hands, he reluctantly handed his brother to the nurse, who placed Nathan on the stretcher and took him down the corridor. Sam sprinted beside them, Nathan's hand in his, until he couldn't any longer.
He took a deep breath and looked down at his arms as the emergency doors closed. The fact that Nathan was no longer in his arms made the situation more real.
Nathan was dying, and Sam was to blame.
Suddenly, Sam couldn’t breathe, his heart thudded in her chest as his hands shook. Every inch of him felt like an exposed nerve, as he felt himself lost in a sea of fog he couldn’t find his way out of. Everything was both too much and too little at the same time. It was all too emotionally charged for him to handle, and he couldn't think of anything else than his brother barely breathing in his arms.
He felt his back hit the wall and he slid down, pressing his forehead to his knees, choking on his own lungs. And he remained there till the nurse returned a few moments later. She informed him that they had conducted some testing and determined Nathan was allergic to peanut butter.
Sam had composed himself long enough to call his mom and inform her of what happened. Just his mother though, he doubts his dad would actually care.
Sam sat by Nathan’s bedside, holding his brother’s hand tightly. He knew he had to grow up. Living with… how their parents were: a negligent father and a sick mother, Sam knew even at nine years old that when it came to Nathan that he was going to step up and care for him, because who else would?
“I gotcha, Nathan.”
He vowed to never let Nathan out of his sight again.
“Dammit, Nathan.”
Sam gritted his teeth and held the needle between his finger tips as he stitched the large open wound across his brother’s chest. He tried to keep his composer but there was so much blood everywhere. “I told you to stay put.”
This was supposed to have been an easy lift, just a simple grab and go to put some food on the table, they had been running low on money and if they were gonna continue mom’s work then they needed to eat, but of course it wasn’t easy, nothing ever was easy when it came to their lives. His hands started shaking, the tell tale sign that he was about to have one of his panic attacks, just like he always did whenever it came to Nathan.
“Why don’t you ever do as I say?”
Nathan didn’t bother answering, he’d lost too much blood to be coherent. Sam inhaled a deep breath and did his best to remain calm, trying to remain focused because Nathan was what mattered, he could fall apart later, all that mattered was his brother.
They had been at this for over two years and they had gotten used to this routine they have established. Except that Nathan was going through his “teenage rebellious” phase and Sam was having a difficult time handling it. He wasn’t handling it and now Nathan was getting hurt more than he was able to admit.
Stubbornly arguing that he wasn’t a kid anymore and that he could help if Sam just let him.
“In this together. You and me.”
His little brother would find some way to throw his own words back in his face. And Sam wasn’t an idiot, he knew Nathan could take care of himself, he also knew that his brother was growing up and that he wouldn’t be able to be there. But there was still that part of him, that instinct in him that will always want to protect him.
He remembers the day he’d rushed to the hospital, how tightly he’d held Nathan to him. Sam looks at the blood on him, the needle in his hand, and the pale face of his unconscious brother.
Sam swallowed thickly, he pressed his forehead against Nathan’s and breathed, “What am I gonna do with you?”
Sam awakened in utter agony.
The left side of his abdomen felt like lava, it felt bloated, and it knocked the wind out of him; his brain was racing to figure out what was going on; he couldn't recall anything. He opened his eyes and above him, dim lights and a damaged, water-stained ceiling hung. The scent of the jail coated the walls with sweat, blood and disinfectant.
He couldn't see, couldn't focus, and couldn't make sense of his surroundings. He felt sick with vertigo, his body aching. Everything was both too bright and too dark.
Then he heard a loud scrape of metal on the floor, and Sam jerked up, glanced about, and it only took a second for him to recognize the Panamanian Prison Guard who entered through the door, and then he remembered. Rafe murdering Vargas, gunshots flying in all directions, the three of them fleeing for their life. Nathan catching him as he jumped, then pain, a white hot anguish in his side that left him boneless, and then nothing.
Immediately, Sam’s mind went straight to Nathan. Where was his brother, did he make it out? Or was he get caught? Was he in solitary or… or worse was he— the fear must have registered on his face because the guard smirked. “Recuperación de la memoria? ”
“My brother.” He couldn’t help it, his heart was beating out of his chest at the thought of Nathan—
“Se fue, el bastardo se escapó.”
Sam swallowed thickly, the answer should have left him feeling relieved but it had the exact opposite because he knew how Nathan was, the number of rounds Sam has been to jail, and when Nathan has been to jail, no matter what his brother had a nasty tendency to get into trouble when he wasn’t around.
Rafe being with him did nothing to lessen his anxiety. Despite Rafe having helped them get this far, he still didn’t trust him, because he knew how it was with this line of work, trust is earned and even then it’s only given sparsely. “I know this looks bad but if you just let me explain—“
The guard looked him dead in the eyes, his expression dangerous. “Has matado al alcaide”
He glared at the guard, “I didn’t kill him.” Rafe did that, Rafe did all that. Killing Vargas wasn’t part of the plan, him still being here wasn’t part of the plan. “Listen, I’m sure we can work something out if I can just have one phone call—”
The guard let out a full body laugh, head thrown back like Sam had said the funniest joke in his life, “No se puede dar un teléfono a un hombre muerto.”
Sam blinked and then blinked again at the words
Dead man?
The guard seems to find his confused expression rather amusing because he pulled out a paper from his pocket and threw it at him. Sam gazed at it hesitantly, before unfolding it, his blood ran cold
It was a death certificate
His death certificate
Sam wasn’t stupid, it took him two seconds to connect the dots, anger rose deep within him, “You can’t do this!” They couldn’t do this, they couldn’t. “I’m not dead!”
“No.” Fingers grabbed at his face, the expression on the guard’s face made Sam’s stomach churn. “But given time, you’ll wish you were.”
Sam’s hands shook, his eyes widened and he could barely breathe. “Please don’t do this.” He pleaded, what else did he have at this point? “Please, my brother… he needs me, al menos déjame llamarlo, por favor.”
The guard relaxed his grip on his face and looked at him, evidently enjoying seeing him beg, “The dead don’t plead, boy.” He rose from the floor and shut the door behind him.
His chest heaved with a fear he hadn’t known in years. He felt something in him snap and he ran to the door and slammed his fist against it, he yelled, screamed, cursed. He called out for Nathan, for his mother, hell even for Sullivan. He was here but no one would ever know. He was alone. He was trapped. Trapped in a hell he would never be able to escape from because now in the eyes of the outside world, he was dead.
No one was coming for him because no one even knew he was alive.
Sam sucked a trembling breath in and felt hot tears trickle down his cheeks, unable to keep the vision of Nathan's face from emerging behind his eyes. The last image he had of his brother was Nathan’s horrified expression as he watched him fall. He didn’t care about himself, didn’t see that he might be trapped here for the rest of his life, in that moment all his thoughts were on Nathan.
To the rest of the world he no longer existed and if he didn’t exist where did that leave his brother?
Sam’s only been reunited with Nathan for a short while before he fully realized just how often his brother had a tendency to fall off things. Calling some of their old contacts, they all went into strong detail about the numerous times that his brother nearly fell to his death.
Out of a plane, hole in his parachute off the coast of South America.
Gut shot, dangling over a mountain cliff in the Himalayas
Out of a cargo plane over the Rub 'al Khali desert
Even recently, they had nearly escaped falling off a cliff in King’s Bay.
Sam saw Nathan falling out of the driver’s seat long before it happened, and he was ready to catch him, like he always did, nearly throwing himself out of the car had Sullivan not wrapped ahold of his arm, his mind flashed to being back in Scotland, where the floor had crumbled around them and Sam had reached for Nathan and missed. He missed and for a few short seconds he thought he just watched his brother fall to his death because he’d been too slow to catch him.
He could hardly breathe as he held onto Nathan, his hands shaking, his panic setting in. Hail Mary prayer falling from his lips as Nathan pulled them to safety, Sam pressed his hand to his brother's shoulder.
His heart was still beating long after they got out of the car, running along the ruins. And while they looked for a way into the tower, Sam chose to hang back a moment. He leaned against a wall for some sort of support, his hands still shaking. Nathan turned the corner, then, and Sam moved a little to give his brother more room to search. Sam watched his brother for a moment. His thoughts drifting, Sam looks down at his hand, the hand he had held Nathan’s as they all dangled from that cliff side and his and for a moment wondered why they were doing all this.
He knew the only reason why Nathan was doing all this was for him. He knew that despite the tell-tale signs that Nathan missed adventuring, he wasn’t in it like all those stories he’d heard about before. Nathan was no longer that same guy who bent hell and back to beat Marlowe at her own game. Nor was he the man who had faced down cursed Spaniards.
He wasn’t. The only reason he was doing any of this was for him, for the brother he thought died and had mourned for fifteen years.
“After he lost you. He couldn’t deal with it. Something broke in him, even sayin your name hurt and eventually he stopped bringing you up at all.” Sully had told him that after they had taken the Saint Dismas’ cross later that night after Nathan had passed out on the bed.
Sam knew that his “death” had left Nathan broken, because for so many years he had been Nathan’s everything, for so many sleepless nights Nathan had been his. Sam knew all that and yet he still lied to him. Still was lying to him and putting Nathan in danger when he was supposed to be protecting him.
He saw that Nathan had moved on from him and that hurt in a way he couldn’t describe. He thought that… if they finished mom’s work, if they found Avery’s treasure that would make up for the times he hadn’t been there for his brother, and Sam could have some semblance of how things had been before.
But he knew that Nathan wouldn’t go simply by Sam asking. Hell he tried that even after he’d lied and Nate still said he was out of that game. And if that hadn’t cut him that much deeper hearing it aloud. He said he was doing the right thing. He said to himself he was saving his brother from this boring ass life. But despite that, he couldn’t help the guilt he felt. Lying to his brother. Was liking someone he was going to have to learn to live with.
Sam's hand twitched, and he couldn't stop himself from placing it on his brother's shoulder. “Hey. Hang back a sec?”
Nathan looked at him, confused, “You alright?”
Sam smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, his heart in his throat. His adrenaline is still present and the images of missing and catching his brother fresh in his head. “I’m… I don’t really know how to answer that.”
Nathan being Nathan, grew concerned immediately as he always did, he stepped closer to him. “What’s wrong?”
He took a moment, just a moment to be open with Nathan. Just a moment, his brother deserved that much. “I guess I’m still reeling from falling off that cliff side, that was crazy, huh? You have a nasty habit of falling off of high places, little brother.”
Nathan chuckled, patting Sam on the shoulder, “I know, but what can I say, I’ve gotten used to it.”
“You know….” Sam swallowed thickly. He knew that Nathan was using humor to downplay his near death experiences, it was something of a shared between the pair of them. But right now, at this moment Sam couldn’t meet that humor half way. He tightened his hand on Nathan’s shoulder, “Back in Scotland, I missed catching you and for a moment I thought—“ He closed his eyes and cleared his throat. “And just now, I just…”
Nathan gripped his shoulder, which helped to ground Sam to the present, there was sympathy in his brother’s eyes. “Hey, I’m alright. I always am.”
Why were they doing this? Why was he doing this, doing this to his brother? Sam closed his eyes, he reached up and gripped the back of his brother’s neck and breathed, pulling Nathan to him. “I’m sorry.”
He was, he was so so sorry, for so many reasons.
He wanted to come clean, he wanted to tell his brother the truth but something held him back. Thirteen years of being trapped in prison, thirteen years of beatings, of torture, of literal hell on earth with nothing but thought of his brother that he loved so much, with nothing but this treasure to keep him sane, all that prevented him from coming clean.
“Ah Sam…” Nathan returned the hug, gently. For a moment, his brother held Sam as though he were made of glass and perhaps he was, before gripping Sam a little tighter for his own benefit. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
It wasn’t, it really wasn’t but Sam let himself believe it, as he gripped Nathan to him the guilt eating away at his soul, hands still shaking, heart still pounding with anxiety.
He was already knees deep into this, there was no going back now.
In the back of his mind, Sam knew his lie wouldn’t last forever. Knew that eventually, the truth would come out. He just thought he’d have more time to plan ahead, think of the right words to say before it all came to that. But of course Rafe had to ruin it, as soon as his brother mentioned Alcázar, and how Sam’s life was on the line, he knew it was all over.
Nathan's expression when he realized the truth, it broke him. But truly, nothing hurt him, horrified him more than seeing Rafe draw his gun on Nathan, ready to shoot and kill his baby brother. Sam reacted the same way he had that night when they were kids. and jumped in front of the gun, gritting his teeth as the bullet grazed his shoulder, and the world seemed to freeze when he realized the impact of being shot and knocked him into Nathan and sent his brother tumbling off the cliff into the water below.
“NATHAN!” He threw himself at the cliff side, willing to risk anything to get to Nathan. But Rafe’s men held him back, held him back from saving his brother, “Nathan! No, no! Nathan! Rafe, please let me go!”
Rafe seemed to be enjoying this display of desperation. “You think after the hell you put me through that I would let you go? C’mon Sam, you're smarter than that.”
Sam struggled, he kicked his feet, pushed against the weight Rafe’s goons had on him, he spewed out every curse he could think of, eventually he pressed his forehead into the dirt and let out a dry sob, tears pooling down his cheeks, “Nathan…”
He couldn’t breathe.
He choked on gasp after gasp and he couldn’t breathe
Is this what Nathan went through? When Sam was shot that day, and he saw his older brother fall to his apparent death? Did Nathan feel this agonizing ache in his chest, as if he couldn't breathe? Did Nathan try to jump after him? Did his brother feel like his heart was being ripped out? Or was this all Sam? “Oh god, Nathan… Please, I’m so sorry, please.”
Eventually, the fight in him died and Rafe had him hauled to his feet. Sam went willingly, he felt numb, he felt vacant, he no longer cared about anything, the treasure be damned it didn’t matter because his little brother was gone. His very reason for living was gone so what was the point in fighting?
Sam had stumbled into his apartment having just gotten back after a ten hour car ride from London. Thankfully, he wasn’t the one driving, had he been Sam knew he was likely to crash from just how exhausted he was. Years after Libertalia, Sam had since gained a reputation for himself, not as well known as Nathan but enough for the people in their line of work to know his name. He took a few jobs where some went off without a hitch, while other jobs had left him with nothing but a few bullet grazes.
Some jobs he had partnered with Chloe, some even with Cutter but most of them had been with Sully. The job he had in London however had been one of the jobs where he was left with a bleeding nose and nothing to his name, thankfully Chloe didn’t hold it against him and gave him a ride home. All Sam could do was agree and let his forehead rest against the cool glass of the window as raindrops slid across it, he was far too exhausted and sore to argue.
He was asleep long before his face hit the pillow and proceeded to sleep for the next ten hours. Only to be woken up by a nightmare at three in the morning.
Nightmares were a common thing for him. Half of them were due to his, —according to Elena— were he’d gained over having them thirteen years in Panama. The other half were always about Nathan. He remembered Sully’s words about how Nathan had acted when he thought Sam was dead. And Sam couldn’t have imagined what that was like until he had experienced it for himself, that moment of watching Nathan fall off that cliff, that moment however brief it was where he thought Nathan was dead, that he got his baby brother killed.
That moment, like it did Nathan, had indeed scarred him.
All Sam could do was lay there on his bed, staring up at the ceiling for another hour, he thought about calling Nathan, just to make sure he was okay, but he decided against it, he didn't want to ruin whatever expedition he and Elena were currently on.
But just as he was about to fall back asleep, his phone rang.
Sam just could only let out a tired groan, blindly reaching for the damn thing. He checked it and rolled his eyes when he saw who it was. “You do know that I just got back from a ten hour car drive with Chloe who by the way is even worse than Nathan is when it comes to driving?”
“Sam.” Sully sounded like he was fifty years older when he had called him, which was a cause for concern seeing as Sully was pushing seventy now.
Sam blinked, “What is it?”
There was a pause on the other end.
“Get your ass movin, kid. Your brother needs you.”
That woke Sam up. Any thought of sleep was now gone, “What happened?” Jumping up and throwing his jeans on immediately fearing the worst. Did one of Nate’s past enemies catch up with him? Did one of Sully’s? Or his?
“You know the expedition site Nate has been talking about off the Amazon? Well there was a cave in.”
Sam’s heart was in his throat in seconds, “Let me guess, Nate was caught up in it?”
“Of course.” Sully answered dryly, Sam could hear the worry in Sully’s voice.
Sam tossed on a t-shirt and ran some cold water on his face, “How long has he been missing, we got a window, you know.”
Another pause
“Victor?”
Sully let out a long and exasperated sigh on the other end. “Two days.”
Sam felt his blood freeze. He felt a mix of horror and anger fill his blood, “Why the hell am I just being informed about this now?”
Sully sounded… tired, tired and worried and likely feeling his age. “I don’t know, but if I had to guess, bad reception. I could hardly hear Elena. I only got bits and pieces before the line went dead.”
That did little to lessen Sam’s emotions. His brother has been missing for two days and he was just hearing about it now? “Victor, they have a million dollar with twenty of the best fucking kinds of experts on the goddamn market and yet none of them could spring for good reception?”
Sam could practically see Sully raise his hands in defense, “I get it, kid. I really do. But right now that doesn’t matter. Elena didn’t say it, she’s trying to be strong but I know she’s worried.”
Sam grabbed his keys, “Already on my way. Can you come get me?”
Sully let out another sigh, “I can’t.”
Sam paused at the door. “Why?”
“I got Cassie.”
It was something of a routine they had all come up with after Cassie was born, whenever Nathan or Elena couldn’t take Cassie with them on one of their expeditions, they’d either leave her with one of them. The last time, Sam had his niece for a full week. It was Sully’s turn to watch Cass this time around. And it’s not like Sully could back everything up and go head off to the Amazon with a five year old.
Sam was on his own.
There was rustling on the other then a small voice echoed out, “Sammy?”
Sam smiled despite himself, “Cassie, hi sweetie.”
Cassie’s voice sounded like she hasn’t slept a wink, “Grampa said you're gonna help mommy find daddy?”
Sam closed his eyes for a moment. “Absolutely. I’m gonna go find him and then you and I can beat him at Pirates again.”
Even over the phone he could tell that Cass was quivering her lip. “Prowmise?”
He felt tears sting at his vision, and he blinked them away, he dug his nails into his palms, throat tight, “I promise.”
He wouldn’t fail this time. He refused to fail Nathan again, there was too much at stake.
The entire flight to the Amazon was far too long for him. Sam's hands were trembling the entire time, and his heart was in his throat. His thoughts were racing; he had no idea why he was making this trip in the first place; how was he supposed to find Nathan in a cave? He wasn't as familiar with the area as Elena was. What was he good for? What was he going to be good for?
He wasn’t. He wasn’t good for anything.
And yet, despite all that, he went. Because his baby brother was in trouble, and whenever that happened, Sam was willing to go to hell and back for him.
Elena was waiting for him when he arrived.
He ran to her and she met him in the middle, wrapping her arms around him in a desperate hug, Sam was quick to return it, she trembled in his arms, and any anger he had towards the situation immediately melted away. “It’s okay.”
Elena pulled back, “I wanted to tell you sooner but the weather’s been bad here. I could hardly get a clear signal when I called Sully, I-I don’t even know if everything went through at all—”
Sam placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her, “Show me where it happened.”
Elena led him to the site of the cave's collapse. She explained that they were searching for rock art known as the Sistine Chapel of the Ancients, which was most likely created twelve thousand years ago. Everything was fine, everything was going according to plan, until the weather turned against them. Sam leaned against the rocks for a moment, thinking, “And Nathan went in there by himself?”
Elena shook her head, leading him back to her tent, “Not to search for anything, when the weather turned bad. He wanted to make sure no one else was still there. It’s like the entrance collapsed on itself the moment he stepped inside.”
Sam nodded, that was definitely something Nathan would do. Always the caring one, his baby brother. “Do you think he’s hurt?”
“We have no way of really knowing since we can’t contact him.” Elena crossed her arms and snorted, a tight smile on her face. “But knowing Nate? It’s likely.”
As he leaned against the table, Sam let out a hollow smirk; she was right, and his hands shook even more. “Do you know if there are any other caves that might connect with this one?”
He watched Elena pull out a map from her pocket, “There’s several, actually. That’s the first thing we tried but navigating those caves is like a maze, the weather has made it dangerous to traverse them safely.”
Sam crossed his arms, looking unfazed, “Dangerous for them. But not me.”
Elena sighed, “Sam—”
“I know, it’s dangerous. But I—“
Elena shook her head, as she turned her wedding ring between her fingers, “The last thing I need is for both of you to be trapped down there. We need to wait until it’s safe, we’ll have a better chance of finding him in a group.”
But Sam wasn’t having that, “The longer we wait the more likely Nathan’s gonna do something…. Stupid and likely cause another cave or get himself killed.”
“Sam, I’m worried too, okay? You think I’m keeping calm because I don’t care? You think I don’t wanna go down there myself and search? I do but can’t because I have employees, other people here to think about. We need to wait.”
“You need to.” Anger filled Sam’s heart, it was easier than dealing with the crushing weight of his anxiety. “I don’t.”
Elena fixated him with a look of authority, of sympathy, and firmness all wrapped in one. “Sam, breathe.”
Sam hadn’t realized he was breathing hard until Elena pointed it out. He tried his best to remain calm. He knew he couldn't afford to fall apart right now. Not only for Elena's sake, but also because Sam knew he was far too mature to have a panic attack. But old habits die hard and Sam couldn’t help but flash back to all those times Nathan was in trouble. Back in Libertalia, he had thought he’d lost his brother for good, watching his brother’s motionless body hit the water and disappear had broken something in him.
The concern must have shown on his face because Elena gave him a sympathetic expression and moved to hug him. “Hey, it’s okay.” It wasn’t okay, but he let himself soak in her comfort she offered regardless.
“I’m supposed to always be there. Back when we were kids I promised.” Sam closed his eyes, swallowing. “I told him I said ‘I gotcha’ and I swore I’d always catch him, always be there. But Scotland? Madagascar? Libertalia?”
Elena held him just a little tighter, “Sam. Neither of us blame you for that.”
He knows they don’t but they should, they absolutely should.
Everything was suddenly far too suffocating and he pulled away from Elena. “I don’t even know why I came here. What good am I? I don’t know the first thing about how to track him down.”
“And yet, you came anyway.” He did, he always would, always will, come hell or high water he’s there for his brother. “You know him better than anyone, even more than I do.
Sam shook his head, gesturing to her, “You’re his wife. His other half and what not.”
“And you’re his brother. If anyone can find him, it’s you.” Elena smiled at him and Sam tried to not let his guilt continue to overflow his senses. He swallowed, heart still in his throat, he used to think that. He used to think he was the only one in the world who knew Nathan inside and out but having missed so much of his brother's life and growth after Panama, Sam didn’t really know if he believed that anymore.
But regardless of his own doubts, his brother was in trouble and he would be there always, even if he was useless. “If you really believe all that then please, let me go look for him. I need to do this.”
And against Elena’s better judgement Sam actually managed to convince her to let him search for Nathan alone. Her only exception was that he went with the best gear they had.
So here he was in the Amazon rainforest's caves, decked out in the most expensive equipment he'd ever had the pleasure of wearing, looking for his little brother as it poured outside.
“Nathan!”
He’d been at this for an hour. And he was starting to get a little desperate, calling out Nathan’s name at random, only hearing his own voice echo across the caverns back to him.
“Sam, you read me?”
Elena’s voice gave him pause. He pulled out his walker talkie, “Yeah? Everything okay up there?”
“Weather seems to be clearing up, how’s your end?”
“Nothing yet.”
There was static on the other end for a moment. “You wanna head back?”
Sam ran his tongue over his lips, and pressed them together. “Nah, I’m not stepping foot out of these caves until I have Nathan with me.”
“I thought as much. Just be careful, okay?”
“Always am.”
The line went quiet and Sam was once again alone in the quietness of the caves along with the stalagmites and stalactites. He took a second to collect himself. “Alright Sam, think. What would Nathan do?”
That was always his thought process now in anything he did. Whether it be him handling a job with Sully or Chloe backing him up or him just being on his own, his mind would always drift to that single sentence, what would his brother do?
If it had been the other way around. If Nathan had been the one looking for him? Trying to navigate these caves? What would he do?
The answer came to him almost immediately, “Look for the simplest solution and have that go horribly wrong and then having to find another way.” Sam let out an exasperated sigh that turned into a chuckle. “Nathan, I swear you have the best and worst luck.”
The simplest solution was to go back to where it had all started. When the cave had first collapsed, Sam pressed his hand to the rock and then run his fingers along the cave walls, “Alright Nathan, now what way would you have—“
Sam came to a halt, his hand resting just above a single stalagmite. He froze for a moment and traced his finger along something before shaking his head and shining his headlamp along the rock. He noticed a single word in a large jagged print along the formation right away.
Sic Parvis Magna
Most people would think it meant nothinh, but it meant everything to Sam. Sam ran his fingers along the letters, then traced a single line beneath it, pointing straight ahead. Sam laughed, his heart swelling with pride. “Attaboy, little brother.”
He treaded carefully, raising both hands along the walls, concentrating he searched the walls, searching each stalagmite and stalactite for that single phrase again. A phrase that meant everything to him and his brother.
A few yards down, he found it again, this time leading him to the right, and then left and then up. Sam rounded a corner and there laying in cave clearing was a walkie talkie.
Sam looked around, picked it up and immediately realized that it was broken. A broken walkie talkie, but no brother. That either meant Nathan had turned around and moved right along or… or he was still here.
A pit settled in his stomach, “Nathan!”
He looked around the walls, traced every bump and ridge with his fingertips but wasn’t able to find Nathan marker, their phrase, the one they carried with them throughout their lives.
His hands started shaking, and he gripped the broken device in his hands for stability. No, He thought, desperately. No freaking out. Not a good idea to do that here.
But his mind and heart were at war with one another. And eventually his heart took control and the panic set in.
“NATHAN!”
“Sam!?”
He froze for a millisecond, he never anticipated his own name to echo back to him, it was faint, so very faint but it was there regardless. “Nathan! Keep talking, I’m coming!”
He followed Nathan’s voice which was sounding more and more pained the further Sam grew closer to his brother’s location and finally after another ten minutes, Sam craned his head down a cavern and there was Nathan at the bottom.
Sam didn’t know whether to laugh or cry or both, as he and Nathan locked eyes. “Nathan!”
Even at this distance, he could see his brother’s face split into a grin. “Sam!” He called out weakly. Sam’s joy at finally finding his brother in some condition vanished the moment Nathan coughed.
“Hang on, I’m coming down.”
He had to pace himself as he climbed down, it was like back in Scotland. He was older now and he knew that he has to be cautious. Because Elena was right, the last thing that needed to happen was for Sam to hurt himself and got them both to be trapped. So using the gear Elena gave him, Sam managed to climb his way down the cavern safely
“Nathan!” Sam ran to his brother, falling straight to his knees, he locked eyes on Nathan’s face and nothing else, “Oh god, Nathan!”
“Hey.” And despite the fact that his brother was in obvious pain, Nathan still managed to smile weakly at him, “You came.”
Sam smiled, a chuckle fell from his lips before it turned into a sob, he reached out and grabbed the nape of Nathan’s neck and pressed his forehead to the side of his brother's temple, “Of course I did.” His hands shook as he saw that his brother sported a variety of injuries, one hand hovered over the large gash over Nathan’s eyebrow and the other over the obvious broken leg.
“Jesus Christ, Nathan….”
And Nathan being Nathan, merely waved it off like he often did when someone was fussing over him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Sam frowned at him, face completely deadpan, not up for Nathan’s attempt to disregard his injuries. “A concussion, a broken rib and a broken leg is something that’s ‘not bad as it seems’?”
“Well, I mean… I have had worse.” Nathan chuckled, repositioning himself; he grimaced, his face contorted in pain, and Sam rushed to his aid. His hands twitched, his anxiety, panic attack still crashing over him in waves, and he instinctively brought Nathan against him, his arms protectively wrapped around his brother. Nathan let out a tired and drawn out sigh, going limp against his chest, and that's how they remained for a moment. “Haven't done this since we were kids.”
As a child, Sam made it his mission to show Nathan how much he cared for him every day. And, while Nathan would always brush him off or deny it, physical reassurance was something Nathan thrived on, especially as a child. And given that neither of them had received anything from their father, Nathan practically clung to Sam as a substitute, and Sam couldn't blame him, after their mom… passed and their dad turned them over to the state, Sam found himself clinging to Nathan just as much. How could he not? He had to be Nathan’s father, mother and his big brother all wrapped in one person.
Sam's physical affections became less hugs and more age appropriate things as Nathan grew older. Pats on the shoulder or hair ruffles were commonplace for them. But spending thirteen years in prison made Sam miss those days; in those desperate hours, he'd give anything to hug his brother like he used to.
So this?
This was long overdue.
“Two days.” Sam murmured as held Nathan tighter, “You scared the hell outta me, little brother.” Flashes of him taking a bullet for Nathan and having to watch in horror as his brother falls to his likely death.
He shakes his head.
Nathan remained silent for a moment before pressing his face against Sam's collarbone, looking much younger and smaller than he had in a long time. “I’m sorry.”
Sam closed his eyes, throat tight. He pressed his forehead against the crown of Nathan’s head and breathed. He’s here, he’s a little worse for wear but alive, focus on that, only on that.
Using his walkie talkie, he was able to lead Elena and her medical team straight to their location. Sam remained at his brother's side while Nathan slept soundly in the hospital tent, with Elena on his left. He felt her out a hand on his back. “You saved him.”
Sam swallowed, only managing a small nod of his head as he leaned forward and into her touch. “No more spelunking for a while, please? From either of you. I don’t even want to think what would have happened had both of you been down there.”
She smiled, nodding. “I think I can arrange that.”
He was tired, emotionally and psychologically spent, his head was filled with static, and everything was too loud and too quiet at the same time. Sam did his best to breathe, to really just take it all in, as he looked at Nathan— really looked at him, and just like that Sam was back there, the day his panic attacks began.
And, just like before, he reached out and took his brother's hand in his.
“I gotcha, Nathan.”
This time, he was going to keep that promise.