Chapter Text
“Did you come back to gloat?”
There's a hint of defeat in Rafe's voice as he resigns to his fate. He deserves this after all, doesn't he? He doesn't deserve the treasure- Sam told him so. He doesn't deserve what he worked so hard for, he doesn't deserve to make a name for himself beyond the legacy he was born into. No, he deserves a painful death, trapped by the very thing that was supposed to free him from his misery.
“Rafe, I need you to help me out here,” the words are clipped with panic, an urgency he hopes will snap the younger man out of his self pity. “I can't leave you here, I can't-”
“Leave me here?” He scoffs, dragging his hands over his bloodied face. “You put me here, you did this. You and your worthless brother.”
Sam's whole body stills, and he has to walk himself back from the edge of defense. He knows Rafe is bitter, jealous even; those words of hatred come from a place of insecurity. It's cause for a good punch in the face, but he doesn't deserve to die for it.
“Rafe, listen to me. I know what I did to you, I know I'm part of this mess, but I can't just leave you here.”
“Ah, Samuel Drake has a heart after all. It's a shame you couldn't find it in you when it mattered.”
Sam's jaw clenches, and for a moment he wonders if he shouldn't have come back for him. After everything they've been through, after Rafe bought his freedom back- he owes him this much; he has to try.
Rafe meets his gaze, eyes heavy with exhaustion, his face pale from blood loss. “You were supposed to help me, you were there to help me. Not Nathan, me! You- ah fuck- ” he jolts up towards Sam a little too quick, pain overtaking his entire body. “You… stabbed me in the fucking back ”
“I know, I know.”
There's a million things Sam could say right now. He could lie, he could beg for forgiveness, he could tell the truth: he did what he did because his family would always come first, he used Rafe to get as far as he needed, and he always knew from the very first day that he would end up bringing Nathan into all of this. He could try to make this right, but the clock is ticking.
“Rafe, it's now or never. If I don't get you out of here now-”
“Just go,” he seethes, eyes wild with contempt and unmistakable fear. “You got me, you won, Samuel. This is what you wanted, isn't it?”
Sam kneels beside his old friend, crushed under the glittering rubble of the very treasure that brought them together in the first place. Rafe managed to get the upper half of his body out from under the entrapment- which is impressive all things considered - but he's completely pinned from the waist down.
“This isn't what I want,” the older man's voice is barely a whisper, and if he's running out of time to say anything more, he needs him to hear this one thing, “I never wanted this. It wasn't supposed to go this far.”
There's tears in his eyes as he watches Rafe lean back against his elbows, his arms buckling under the effort. He's completely given up. He makes no attempt to further free himself or even help Sam move the treasure chest off of him. There's no point.
“Come on, Rafe, I'm trying here,” his voice cracks, unsteady hands reaching out for the man in front of him. “Don't do this. I came back for you, just like… Just like you did for me, yeah?”
That's not entirely true, and they both know it. Rafe didn't hesitate to turn tail and run during the jailbreak, though that's easily justifiable under the assumption that Sam had been dead- but Sam had lived, and it took Rafe over a decade to come back for him. He only came back for him when he needed something, when he needed him.
“We're even, Sam, just get out of here.”
His arms finally give way beneath his weight, sending him flat on his back against the floorboards. The wood is hot, the flames making their way closer and closer to the center of the ship. If Sam doesn't leave now, there will be no way out.
He doesn't seem to care. He's dead set on getting the man out alive. He hasn't even considered how they're going to swim with the condition Rafe is in now. Even if he gets free, his mobility is going to be limited and unreliable. It's going to be near impossible, but he'll figure something out. He has to.
“Hey, look at me,” he urges, sliding an unsteady hand under his head. There's a tenderness to his touch that makes the other man visibly shudder, an affection that isn't foreign to either of them but has been absent for quite some time. “Remember our first week in Scotland? You were a little too trigger happy, completely disregarding your own safety. I told you not to stand so close to that door, you blew it wide open and it sent you flying.”
Rafe scoffs in spite of himself, shaking his head as Sam recounts the disaster that resulted in a concussion and bruised ribs.
“You hit the wall so hard, I was so worried about you. I helped you then, didn't I? I picked you up, dusted you off, brought you tylenol every few hours.” He echoes the other man's self deprecating laugh, tears welling in his eyes and holding steadfast to his waterline. “I took care of you then, I can take care of you now.”
Their moment is cut short by the sound of crackling fire and falling debris, the flames threatening to swallow them whole.
“We don't have time-”
“You're so fucking stubborn, you know that, Rafe?”
It's now or never.
Sam moves to brace himself against the heavy chest, using every ounce of strength to push it up or off of the other man. He has to tune out the cries of pain, he has to ignore the ache in his own body as he pushes himself to his limit. He feels someone join him, Nathan now at his side despite everything Rafe put him through. The chest begins to move, and after a few frantic moments of effort, they manage to free the man trapped underneath.
“If we die for him,” Nathan heaves, doubling over to catch his breath, “I'll kill you.”