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There’s a certain poetic justice, he thinks, in Sam betraying him. Years ago when he left Sam in that infernal place, believing with every fiber of his being that the other man was dead, he never thought that he would have to deal with the pain of losing him twice. Once had been enough. Then he got the call from one of his informants that Sam had indeed survived and was currently still stuck in the Panamanian prison.
He flew to the Latin American country the next day. Sam’s reaction to Rafe getting him out of jail had been rather surprising. Rafe had softly patted him on the shoulder, expressing his own relief that Sam was alive, and then the other man lunged at him. Sam’s arms wrapped around Rafe’s shoulders and the next thing he knew he was in an awkward hugging position, Sam whispering his thanks into his ear.
“It was no problem…” Rafe murmured.
“Rafe, don’t undersell this.” His hands found Rafe’s neck. “Thank you. I mean, it did take you a little over ten years to figure out I was still alive, and really, I expected better…”
Grumbling at the teasing, Rafe punched Sam in the arm. “Less talking, more treasure finding.”
“Where’s Nate?” The words make him cringe. He doesn’t know where Nate is, nor does he care.
“We parted ways a few months after you....died.”
Sam’s eyebrows raise. He looks around for a moment before asking Rafe to show him to the car. “We have to tell him, we have to go get him. He’ll be so excited that I’m back!”
“Samuel.” Rafe chastises. He really doesn’t want to hear about how great things will be once Nate’s thrown back in the mix, but he’ll let Sam think that he’s scolding him for being too loud. “Right now, let’s just focus on getting back to the states. I’ve been scouring the Chapel for years, haven’t found a thing. We need to brainstorm about where to look next.”
“No,” Sam shakes his head. “We need to go get Nate.”
“Samuel.” Rafe says again, this time a bit more terse. “Just, stop thinking about your brother for a moment and help me think. That’s why I broke you out after all.”
A few years later and he’s watching Sam leave in a hail of bullets. He could’ve just walked out, Rafe was actually planning on letting him just leave. No words exchanged, no bodies. Then he learned why he was leaving. Apparently Nate’s been working for some cargo retrievement company - Rafe didn’t bother enough to do any more research than that - and Sam for some reason feels obligated to go find him and ‘get him back in the game’.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe he left the ‘game’ for a reason?”
No amount of reasoning seems to get through Sam’s head, so Rafe pulls a gun on him. Sam has a lot of information. Not only about Avery, but about him as well. If the things he knows ever get out, he’d be done.
”Sorry Sam, this is just something that has to be done.”
Then Sam hits him. Again. And Again. And one more time before stealing his gun and running out of Rafe’s office like his ass was on fire. Rafe sat there for a while, tried not to cry. Sam had a hell of a right hook. He spat some blood on the floor and lay there until finally Nadine walked in.
She had never liked Sam. They disagreed on a lot. Especially the destruction of the St. Dismas Cathedral. Rafe tried to stay out of their quarrels.
Offering him a hand, the woman pulled him to his feet and reached out to touch his face. “Got ya good.”
“I know.”
“He’s gone.”
“I figured.”
They don’t talk about feelings. Their relationship is all business. No mushy feelings. No ‘are you okay?’s. They let the melancholy fog lower down on them as they stand in silence, neither mentioning the tear tracks on his cheeks.
There were these moments, these pure moments, that Rafe not only remembers, but cherishes. Moments where they’d figure something out, take a step in the right direction, and Sam would look over at him with wide eyes, a smile, and that look of adventure.
He thinks that maybe that look, that trademark Sam look that not even Nate could pull off, was what made him want to work with the brothers in the first place. Work with Sam in the first place.
What hurts the most is when he figures out that Sam not only got Nate back in the game, but he got him back on the track for Avery’s treasure. Damn traitor. He should’ve killed him when he had the chance. This is what he gets for trusting people.
Rafe doesn’t sleep well that night.
Or the next.
He goes a few nights without any sleep at all before finally lashing out. He’s screaming, shrieking, tearing his throat up raw. He doesn’t care. It hurts. It all hurts. Nate. Nadine. Sully.
Sam.
God he just wishes he could do something right by someone. A big part of him just wants the brothers to make a deal with him. They can have nearly all the treasure, he doesn’t need it, he just wants the fame. The glory.
It’s the night after the Rossi auction and all he wants to do is give up. Who cares? He’s getting old, too old for treasure hunting, and the last thing he wants to do is get in a gunfight. Hell, he can barely keep Nadine on a leash at this point. Maybe he should just go home, settle down in his billions, maybe marry a nice girl.
Nadine talks him out of it.