— I am not bound by petty notions of conscience.

as thrilling as the next adventure might be, in the end you’re always left with that same feeling. sometimes you just gotta choose what you’re gonna keep and what you’re gonna let go.

NATHAN DRAKE | UNCHARTED 4: A THIEF’S END

because the first one was never necessary, Among Thieves is incredible and is the only Uncharted 2 anyone needs, and Nathan Fillion already nailed any sort of adaption as a fan film.

also who wants Wahlberg as Sully? nobody.

As long as I get to get him second-pregnant.

Early bird gets the worm, but second mouse gets the cheese. 🧀 (Mantra for a chick waiting for him to get divorced.)

(Oooh to be whisked away to the 70s with my equally horny Nate-lover pen pal… oh yes…)

All of this is so accurate and kicking-feet-worthy! I can definitely imagine getting into a fight with him because all of a sudden he’s the diet-police, making sure you’re both eating healthy and staying away from sushi (despite the fact that uhhhh he doesn’t have to do any of that just eat the sushi hun I know you love sushi). Catch him getting overwhelmed and grumpy because of all the restrictions he puts on himself to follow along with you, despite the fact he doesn’t have to. Brings you breakfast in bed almost every day, oatmeal and blueberries and honey, with your vitamins on a little plate with a honey/acai garnish (on the one day of the week he remembers them before 2am). 

Aaaah catch me crying at “he feels like he’s due for a loss”/“things have been good for too long”. AAAAAH!!! Can totally imagine him having a sleeping problem and getting up to pace in the living room so he doesn’t wake you up. But at a certain point, even that’s too far away to be from you. What if something happens and he’s not there?

I fully headcanon him as having anxiety/mental health problems, a recessive gene passed down from his mother, that he’s pushed down his entire life. The pregnancy only brings all that to the surface. And maybe once the baby’s finally born and his partner comes out of it healthy and okay, he’ll at last break down in tears randomly getting groceries and accept a therapy session or two. 

AAAH HE SO WOULD PLAY MUSIC AND AUDIOBOOKS FOR THE BABY!!! If y’all are metalheads/rockers, oopsie! Sorry, he’s just gonna beg to play instrumental piano. Attempts the whole “headphones over the belly” thing before realizing it’s a little silly. 

“Horny in a we’re each other’s kinda way” - yes, yes, AND yes. Nate to a TEE!!! Is WILDLY turned on when you wear tight clothes to accentuate the belly! Goes bright red and stuttery when you mention sex can help induce labor! Can’t ride/peg like you used to? That’s fine! He’ll just put on a strip show for you (wait 20 minutes for him to manically choose between sexy music and AGAIN instrumental piano ‘wait!! The baby!!’ Only to realize Mozart isn’t particularly sexy and switching back again) and solo masturbate for you >:) and if you plead with him enough, he’ll 100% ride your favorite peg on the bed for you, or ask you to wear it while he just bounces back on it <3 if you want a nice lil orgasm, he’ll have you lie reverse cowgirl on his chest and just sorta grind while he rubs your clit and kisses your neck :) no worries if you can’t return the favor bc he already came oops

AAAAAAH NATE CALLING YOU MOMMY IN PUBLIC BECAUSE HE CAN AAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!! AAAAAAH!!! (I need to say it louder actually)

AAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!

Imagine him at one of Sully’s BBQ’s, yelling out while he’s grabbing an extra (non-alcoholic) beer from the fridge: “Hey, Mommy! Want the apple flavor or the last boysenberry?” “Hey, Mommy! Sully’s wondering if we have any more AA batteries!” Barely hiding a twinkling smile while Sam shakes his head from the deck chairs.

Oh my god, please NEVER apologize for messaging me! I know I rattle on a lot in my posts, but I truly think there is something so sweet and beautiful and LUCKY about discovering something you find so rich and exciting and still want to talk about years later. And how LUCKY are we both for that to be the case! Always feel free to drop in my inbox (but never feel obligated). 

Sending lots of love, sweet friend coffeecup emoji! :)

i’m shit at aiming the game forced me out of the map lmao

Back to faking Nate and his women in Uncharted 2. Even the villainess Rika Raja in on the gagged action though she’s probably faking being kidnapped and is the one who’s kidnapped Nate, Chloe, and Elena.

Zombie Nate😋😋

what the hell is it about THE UNCHARTED SERIES that has thrust me into a full-blown horrible m/m ships with toxic dynamics renaissance

“i can’t analyse rubble” sweetums you couldn’t analyse a high school-level novel

Two heads, one trouble

A while ago, I was obsessed with creating playlists about Harry Flynn and Rafe Adler. I’m still is but not on such a deep lvl.

I created full and complete stories through music.
Now I have a partly different point of view and am not vibing with some of my old choices, but I love the full picture that I made. 

I am still relistening them on repeat sometimes and want to share some of my old works.

Playlists with a story line

My first playlists on these characters. There are a canonical Uncahrted parts and my headcanons. You may try to figure it out or find your own vision.

My first attempt to create a playlist about them. It has a full-story-pack, even with the “sound of credits” as my friend said.

Just vibing

When I was overwhelming around playlists with plot I decided to collect songs that just vibing with them. There is no deep meaning, just vibe

Some time ago, I had a fixation on German language even though I don’t speak one.

So I made playlists consisting only of German songs. I tried to use a translator but mostly relied on vibe of sound.

I hope you will find inspo in it same as I found one when searching for playlists about them for the first time ✨

I have some new Uncharted playlists, so let me know if you would like to see them here

haha. im going to be sick

White Mustang 3

Pairing: Sam Drake x OC!Birdie x Rafe Adler

Summary: To save her father from crushing debt, Birdie made a deal with the devil. Treasure hunting alongside Rafe Adler promised fast money—but it became a fifteen-year marriage, a lifetime of control, and a debt she can never repay. She convinces herself she chose this life. That she belongs here. That she’s safe. But when Samuel Drake, the man she loved and lost, returns from the dead, Birdie is forced to confront the truth: was she ever Rafe’s to begin with, or has she been waiting for Sam all along to finally set her free?

Author’s Note: Thank you for enjoying the little fanfic that could! I’m glad to see some of the comments I’ve gotten on it, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the series. Also, apologies for the inconsistency with the Ao3 links; the website is up and down. Hopefully it’s back up today!

AO3 Link | Masterlist

MADACASGAR

Their time in Scotland was nothing to write home about. Endless explosions, Rafe and Nadine arguing when they weren’t eye-fucking right in front of her, and right when she ran out of cigarettes, the Drakes had destroyed the crypt in the cathedral. Perfect timing. Madagascar wasn’t so easy. This would stay with her longer than Panama.

“I’ll see you soon, Buddy.” Rafe takes off his Bluetooth and drops it in the middle console before barking at her to drive faster.

“I’m driving as fast as I can,” she barks back, “unless you want me to hit innocent pedestrians.”

He groans in annoyance, turning his attention back to his phone and looking over the pictures he hacked from Nate.

“For God and Liberty,” he mutters to himself.

“Where’s this heading?”

“Tweety, if I knew,” he grits through his teeth, “just focus on the road, please.”

For God and Liberty, For God and Liberty, For God and Liberty, she repeats over and over in her head. She swears it sounds familiar; she can hear Sam’s voice almost. Before she can think of the answer, Nadine’s convoy speeds ahead of them. Shots are firing off ahead, but she can’t see their target.

“Wait, what are they doing? I thought you said you knew they were at the tower,” she shouts over the now explosions going off ahead of them.

“I’m doing what needs to be done, Tweety,” he shouts back, “why do the Drakes always have to have everything?”

“Have everything?!” she exclaims, “Rafe, you have more than all of us combined!!”

“They have that team of mutts; I have no one. They have women who love them; I don’t. They don’t get to waltz into every room and make it go their way.”

She slams on the brakes, making the jeep lurch forward before it falls back with a heavy drop. Her knuckles are white from her tense grip on the wheel. Her breathing is ragged, and she can feel the rage coursing through her almost like an electrical buzz. She stared at him in disbelief for a long while. The man she sacrificed her whole life for just said he had no one.

“What?” he scowled.

“You have no one?” she asked bluntly.

“I meant no family. My parents are dead,” he brushed off her question.

“No, you didn’t,” she said, disappointed, “I’m your wife! You think that these fifteen years I’ve spent by your side have all been because of some debt?”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. Hasn’t it? He thought to himself. He’s bought everyone in his life; why would she be any different? She ran her hands down her face, looking forward at the smoke caused by the explosion from Nadine’s goons. Worried that now she might have to mourn Sam twice.

“I meant it when I said I love you, Rafe.”

He looks over at her and takes her face in his hand. He leans over and kisses her.

Patting her hair, he looks in her eyes and says, “I know I wasn’t your first choice.”

This admission shatters her. It’s the only truth she can not deny. Her ears burn, feeling very exposed in front of him now.

“Drive to camp, Tweety,” he lets go of her face, turning back in his seat to face forward. The rest of the drive is silent.

Their camp was a serious operation. An entire village of bungalows set up with clear entry and exit points. Fully equipped with all the ammo and manpower of a small army, well, because a small army occupied it. As they walked into the main tent with all the plans, Rafe asked her to wait outside. Rolling her eyes, she obeyed. She decided to use this time to see what she could get her hands on. She slipped a sat phone and a para 9 into the waistband of her pants.

Rafe would lose his mind if he saw her packing. He thought it was so unbecoming of her that she knew how to shoot. Whatever, he should just be lucky she never shot him. She was leaning against a crate, smoking a cigarette, waiting for this meeting with Nadine to end. It was times like this that she really felt like a fool. Letting Rafe include and exclude her as he saw fit.

“Tweety, what have I told you about smoking? I hate it when you do it around me!” Rafe exclaimed as he stepped out of the tent. Dramatically waving his arms around to rid himself of the smoke. She put the cigarette out against the crate, lifting her hands apologetically, while letting out a billow of smoke. She mouthed a small “sorry” before walking over to him.

“For God and Liberty…it’s talking about Libertalia,” she says.

“The lost city of Libertalia, c’mon Tweety,” Rafe laughs.

“Think about it, Nate’s already found three lost cities, it only makes sense-”

“Believe me, I know how many cities Nathan has found.” Rafe scowls.

“So it makes sense, this would be where they are headed.” She continues.

They are interrupted by Nadine over the walkies, saying she’s located Nate and Sam. They ran as fast as they could, but it was too late when they turned the corner and saw Sam holding Nadine at gunpoint. She knew this would solve nothing, but it did bring her small pleasure to see her compromised like this.

“Whoa! Everybody, just calm down ok?” Nate says, getting in between Rafe and Sam.

“Well, this is interesting,” retorts Rafe, “Nate? Samuel?” he teases, cocking his head to the side when looking at Sam.

“Put your guns down, all of you!” Sam demands.

“No,” Rafe whines.

“Sam, what are you doing?” she asks, mimicking an almost eerie calm to Rafe.

“Rafe, this guy’s on edge,” Nadine urges.

“Oh, don’t worry about him, Nadine. These guys don’t kill anyone in cold blood, it’s just not their style.” Rafe assured her.

“You willing to bet her life on that?” Sam challenged, pulling her closer to him.

“Go ‘head then,” Rafe dares, “shoot her.”

“Sam-” Nate calls out.

“Rafe-,” she calls out at the same time.

“I die, you both die,” Nadine commands.

“So be it,” Sam cocks the gun. “Not another step!” he says, pushing the barrel further into the side of Nadine’s head.

“You mean… like this?” Rafe dares to step forward.

“Rafe, stop it,” she says, now more worried about what Rafe would do than Sam.

“Sam… put the gun down,” Nate urges again.

“I warned you,” Sam calls out.

“Do it!” Rafe demands.

Sam shoots, but Nate knocks the gun out of his hand.

“Rafe!” Nadine shouts, disbelief in her voice at her boss almost getting her killed out of pride.

“It’s done!” Nate say grabbing the gun from Sam.

“Hold your fire! Don’t shoot!” Rafe turns to face his men before turning back to Nate, “Put it down?”

“It’s done. Okay? It’s done,” Nate throws the gun on the ground and kicks it back to Rafe.

“Don’t worry, Nadine. It’s not their style,” Nadine says out of breath, reaching down to pick up her gun.

“What can I say? I didn’t think he hid it in him,” he shrugs. “Samuel. You okay? I guess you knew this moment was coming, huh?” Rafe laughs before pistol-whipping Sam in the face.

“Rafe, enough! What’s wrong with you?” she says, running over to Sam only to be blocked by Rafe.

“Hey! C’mon, man. You got us. Take it easy.” Nate says, wincing, having just seen his brother get knocked out. “C’mon now, you’re a businessman. Let’s just… work out a deal.” Nate says, standing between the two of them.

“Oh, a deal. Oh yeah, I’d love to hear what you have in mind,” Rafe says as he kicks Sam in the face as he’s getting up. Rafe still has her blocked behind him, disgusted by her overt concern for Sam.

“Oh, you can go ahead. I’m listening.” Rafe looks back up at Nate, smug.

“All right, just… all right… Look, you wanna find Avery’s treasure? We’ll help you find it.” Nate says trying his best to keep the peace.

“And in exchange, I let you live?”

“Yeah. That… and a small cut…” Nate barters.

“The gauchos on this guy.” Rafe laughs, turning to see her looking at Sam with deep concern. It takes everything in her not run over to him.

“Just enough to get his freedom, okay?” Nate insists.

“His freedom?” She and Rafe say at the same time. She steps closer to them.

“Nathan—” Sam interrupts.

“Yeah. He did hard time,” Nate continues anyway, “Our time. And the guy who broke him out, Hector Alcazar… he owes him a lot of money.”

“Whoa. What the hell are you talking about, Nate? Hector Alcazar died in a shootout in Argentina, like six months ago,” he scoffs, “I’m the one who got Samuel out.” he points at himself.

“What— ?” She and Nate say at the same time. She’s getting total information overload.

“Ohhhhh. Wow. What did he tell you? Sam, what kind of story did you cook up? Alcazar? Really? You lied? You lied to your baby brother?” Rafe said, looking over to Sam now.

“We’re wasting time,” Nadine whined behind them.

“Just a second,” he sighed, “Thing is, Nate, I never stopped looking for Avery’s treasure. I just kept running into these dead ends,” he laughs, “You know? And then I hear that our dear ol’ Samuel Drake, an authority on Avery, is alive and somewhat well. There was no breakout. I bribed the prison warden, and your brother waltzed right out the front gate. He just spent the last two years tracking down the second St. Dismas Cross. And you know what? He did it all with me.” Rafe relished getting to confess this to Nate. It was as if all the strife and trials of the fifteen years were worth it because he finally had something on Nathan Drake.

“No.” Nate looked at Rafe in utter disbelief.

“Oh yeah.” Rafe smiled.

“No, that’s bullshit,” Nate said, completely dismissing everything Rafe had just said.

“Oh, Sam? Care to refute?” Rafe looked over to Sam.

“Nate…” Sam starts.

“Aw, Sam… Ah, Jesus no, no…” he starts to back away from his brother.

“Listen, Avery’s treasure was ours… It was always ours.” Sam urges Nate to believe him.

“No! I left my life for you!” Nate says in anger, pushing Sam away.

She had no choice but to watch this all unfold. Her heart breaking for Nathan and Sam. All of this for some measly treasure.

“Hey, look, look, Nate, if it’s any consolation, he duped me too. He pulled Houdini on me. He brought you… and that old man back into the mix. And I cannot lie, Sam, that really… pissed me off. But you know… all behind us now.” Rafe said, party through gritted teeth and some deep sighs.

“You don’t deserve it,” Sam said, looking over at Rafe, disgusted.

“You do?” Rafe challenged, “Last I checked, we’re all a bunch of thieves… digging around where we shouldn’t.”

“Rafe?” Nadine called out.

“What?” Rafe turned around, annoyed.

“One way or another, end it. Or I will.” Nadine commanded.

“Well, you heard the lady.” Rafe shrugged, turning back around to face the brothers.

“Hey, you miss one clue, and you can kiss that treasure goodbye. You said it yourself: you keep running into dead ends. Why don’t you face it, Rafe? You need us.” Nate tried one last time to barter for his and his brothers’ lives.

“Rafe, this isn’t worth it,” she pleaded with him.

“Yeah, you know what? You two are right.” Rafe said before changing his mind, “You’re half right. I just need Sam,” he said, pointing his gun at Nate.

“Wait now, you’re making a mistake, you got—” Nate urged, stepping back.

“Rafe, don’t! Rafe, don’t, don’t, listen, I—” Sam stepped in front of Nate, hoping to shield him from any rash action Rafe was going to take.

Rafe shoots at him, but Sam takes the bullet. Nate fall of cliff into the sea.

“Nathan!” she and Sam yell out at the same time. She starts to walk over to the side of the cliff, where Nate fell off, before she feels Rafe grab her arm and pull her back.

“Don’t think this absolves you of anything,” Rafe says to her through gritted teeth. She tries to pull herself away from his grasp, but it’s useless. She looks back at Sam to see him being apprehended by Nadine and her goons. They make eye contact, and it’s as if they speak to each other, realizing the mess they made in Panama finally caught up to them.

As they walk through Libertalia, she and Sam are just exchanging sad looks at each other. Rafe, disgruntled with the hunt, tries his best to keep them separate, but it was useless. She didn’t know who she felt more betrayed by, her husband or her lover.

“Birdie,” Sam muttered.

“Samuel, that’s enough,” Rafe reprimanded him, “I think you’ve caused us enough hurt for one day.” He tried to urge her along, but even if she wanted to talk to him, she didn’t know what she would say.

She had held out so much hope all these years that somehow he would come back to her, and somehow it was a fraud that had returned in his place. He looked so weak to her now, and she didn’t know how to look away. Her heart sank thinking about Nate. All the hurt he’s been through, and now he’s possibly dead.

“I can’t keep taking turns mourning you and your brother, Sam,” she said, low.

He couldn’t meet her gaze. He knew there was no coming back from this. He thought of the only way to get her alone and get back to Nate. He had to lead them into one of Avery’s traps in New Devon.

Once they entered the catacombs, he’d set off one of the skeleton bombs to cause a rock avalanche to fall in on the opening, but not before pulling her into him. As the dust settled, they coughed and waved their hands in front of them in an attempt to clear the air.

“Sam, what did you do!” she exclaimed.

“Birdie, listen to me, I never meant for any of this to happen. I knew if I went to Nathan with the truth, he would never have joined me on this-”

“Two years,” she interrupted him, “you were out for two years, searching for a treasure with my husband, and you never once thought to reach out?” she asked, solemnly.

“I-” it was like his words got stuck in his throat. He let out a deep sigh, trying to find the words that would make this all ok before realizing there were none.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her hand in his and holding it up against his chest. “I know nothing I say will even come close to making any of this right, but I need you to know I never meant to hurt you.”

“I find that hard to believe when your brother is suffering most of the consequences of your lie,” she said, pulling her hand back. “You know, I’m really getting tired of guys trying to ‘sorry’ their way into my pants.”

He scoffed.

“What?” she looked at him, befuddled.

“In Italy, you would’ve given anything for me to just waltz you right up to my hotel room.”

“So that makes it OK now?” she challenges.

“No, just makes you hypocritical wanting to take the high road now when you were looking for any excuse before.”

She hits his chest. “You have some nerve, Hotshot.”

“Ow!” he rubs the spot she hit. “Birdie, I only ever did this to get back to you.”

She looks at him longingly. “That was stupid.”

“A stupid dream I dreamt for fifteen years,” he grabbed her face and pulled her close.

She was tired of waiting. She closed the space between them and kissed him harder and more passionately than she’d kissed Rafe in the last decade. It was soft, deep, and passionate. She felt his stubble scratch against her face and let out a small moan. He took advantage of this and slipped his tongue into her mouth to deepen the kiss further. Seconds, minutes, hours passed of them embracing each other, trying to make up for lost time, but there wasn’t enough time in the day and certainly not in this one.

“Sam, we gotta get out of here,” she laughed against his lips.

“Shit, right,” he laughed back, kissing down her neck.

White Mustang 2

Pairing: Sam Drake x OC!Birdie x Rafe Adler

Summary: To save her father from crushing debt, Birdie made a deal with the devil. Treasure hunting alongside Rafe Adler promised fast money—but it became a fifteen-year marriage, a lifetime of control, and a debt she can never repay. She convinces herself she chose this life. That she belongs here. That she’s safe. But when Samuel Drake, the man she loved and lost, returns from the dead, Birdie is forced to confront the truth: was she ever Rafe’s to begin with, or has she been waiting for Sam all along to finally set her free?

AO3 Link | Masterlist

PANAMA

The humidity wore on them like a second skin. The sun is reaching it’s highest peak. They had been trailing through the jungle for days now just to come up empty.

“It’s not here, Rafe,” Sam said desolately.

“It has to be,” Rafe said. His patience was running thin. He pulls out the letter from his back pocket and examines it again. Reading out loud, he says, “I occupy the highest cell in the Spaniards’ prison…so where’s the watch tower?”

“I don’t see any prisons around here,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t see you being useful to anyone,” Rafe snapped.

“I’m sorry? Did I not supply every vehicle for this trip? A tall order when you have to steal every car in a foreign country,” she spat back.

“I never asked you to steal. I offered you money to buy them, which you didn’t take.” Rafe threw in her face

“I’ve taken enough money from you to know that it comes with strings,” she shot back.

Their shouting started to overlap as they got carried away by emotion. Tensions were high, and all day, she and Rafe had this unsaid animosity towards one another. Sam stood between them, watching them like a tennis match before Nate got between the two of them.

“Hey, enough!” He said, pushing Rafe back.

“Nathan, would you please talk some sense into this woman?!” Rafe shouted over Nate’s shoulder.

“Why don’t you talk some sense into your ass?” she said with a bitter laugh. He gives her a mocking look.

“I didn’t hear this attitude when your father’s debts were concerned,” he said, with a smug look on his face.

The jungle went eerily quiet. Sam and Nate looked between the two of them. She and Rafe were practically in a standoff.

“Rafe, drop it,” she spat out.

“No, I won’t drop it. I think it’s only fair that the Drakes understand what it is you’re really after here,” he stepped closer to her, “I mean, after all, you wouldn’t want them to think that you’re on their side.”

“Your dad’s in trouble, Birdie?” Sam said, hurt.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. She let out a huff as she looked down at the ground and then anywhere else that wasn’t Sam. Rafe had the biggest smirk on his face. Finally having something over the Drakes. Nate defaulted to keeping the peace and trying to get everyone focused back on the trail to finding the treasure.

It didn’t last long because they soon heard footsteps trailing behind them. Unfortunately, during their scavenger they had caught the attention of a local militia and couldn’t stay in one area for too long. Especially not screaming their heads off. It was a rare moment of unity between the four as they took off on their continued trail while they fended off some soldiers.

“I think that’s the last of them,” Nate said, out of breath. They had all slowed to a stop after running endlessly for miles. Their jeep broke down mid-melé.

Sam pulled her aside, although useless because they were all within earshot of each other, “That’s why you’re with him? You owe him money?” He was in disbelief.

“Sam, please let’s not do this now,” she murmured.

“No, please let’s,” Rafe said, walking over, “Her father was in serious trouble before I stepped in to save her.”

“You didn’t save me, Rafe,” she said, looking over at him, annoyed, “I had it all under control.” She says, looking back at Sam. “Did you? Because I don’t think $500,000 of debt and counting is having things ‘under control,’” He said, prodding.

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Is that true?” Sam asked her, concerned. The look on her face told him Rafe wasn’t lying.

“The shop hit on some hard times, and my dad took money from someone he shouldn’t have,” she sighed, embarrassed to be explaining this. “I was doing just fine paying them back until I wasn’t, and that’s when I went to Rafe to ask for the money,” she admitted, feeling defeated.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped,” Sam said, stepping closer to her.

“No, you couldn’t have. That’s more money than you and I will ever have in our lifetimes, Sam.”

“But it was chump change to me,” Rafe chuckled, shrugging it off.

Sam lunged at Rafe, knocking him to the ground and landing a couple of blows before Nate managed to pull him off. “Enough! I’m getting really sick of this,” Nate shouted. “I’m sorry about your father, I really am,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “But let’s stay focused on the treasure before we all leave here with less than we came here with.”

They had never seen Nate so mad. Sam agreed to back off, taking a few steps back from everyone to cool off. She offered her hand to Rafe to help pull him up, but not without him spitting out a comment about how this is why he doesn’t do charity. It didn’t take long for the hunt to sour completely shortly after this. The guys were apprehended by the militia and jailed. She tried to keep in contact with them as long as she could, but eventually had to flee Panama to avoid getting caught herself. When Rafe and Nate broke out, it wasn’t long before their trio turned into a duo, and from there, the hunt for Avery’s treasure became Rafe’s sole identity.

She didn’t realize how lost in her thoughts she had gotten until the skyline of Salerno came back into focus as Rafe touched her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead.

“What did my little Tweety bring me?” Rafe said with a smile, sitting down across from her at the table with the paper.

She had been sitting out on the terrace with a cigarette she’d forgotten about until it burned down to her fingers, and she dropped it out of her hand as the flame burned her. She adjusted her sunglasses as she put her feet down from the table and sat to face Rafe. “There was a parchment in the cross,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee.

“A parchment?” Rafe asks, moving to pour his cup of coffee next.

“Yeah, with markings from Henry Avery’s grave with dates. It looks like it’s his headstone,” she shrugged.

“Looks? You saw it?” He said eagerly

“No, just what Sam told me.”

“What Sam told you?” He looked over enviously, “What else did he tell you?”

“Rafe, relax, he just told me what I wanted to know,” she said, trying to downplay the truth of their encounter.

“Relax? He almost stole you from me again, and you want me to relax!” He slammed his hand on the table, leaning in. “I will not lose this treasure, Tweety, not to him, not again!”

“Lose the treasure?” She challenged. He got a look on his face of disbelief.

“You don’t actually think once I find the treasure you’ll walk away from me,” he scoffed, “you need me, you love me,” he threatened.

She looked at the skyline again in an effort not to cry. “Rafe, I love you, I do,” she said, sight still distant, “but I don’t know how much longer I can come second to this stupid treasure anymore.” She turned back to look at him, voice breaking as she said it. Rafe’s expression softened as he could see he had gone too far again. “Tweety, I’m sorry,” he said low, “you know how much you mean to me, and this treasure means nothing to me without you.” He said, waiting for her acknowledgment.

She sniffed and then nodded her head, adjusting her sunglasses.

“Now,” he paused, “where’s Avery’s headstone?”

“Scotland. Across the cathedral,” she said, defeated, leaning back in her chair to finish her coffee. Her phone rang on the table, but she quickly denied the call, forcing it to go to voicemail. Rafe gave her a look before deciding to let it go. He still needed to convince her to go with him and find it. “Good girl,” he said as he stood up to move next to her. He brushed her hair out of her face before caressing her cheek to turn her face to look at him. “I need you to come with me,” he cooed.

“Rafe, I can’t,” she huffed, “Not after what happened last time.”

“This isn’t Panama anymore,” he whispered, “It’s gonna be ok, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

She looked at him as he kissed her hand. She was so mad at him for making her do his dirty work, but she was also mad at herself for doing it in the first place. She hated how much she loved him, and she hated how much she didn’t hate him. Not even a little. Not even at all. “Ok,” she nodded her head, “I’ll go.”

He kissed her deeply, pulling her in closer to him and running his hand under her shirt. He moved his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck to grip her hair and tug, making her moan. He took advantage of her mouth opening to move his tongue into her mouth. Their breathing was rapidly increasing before Rafe pulled her into his lap. He caressed her hips and ass as he kissed her with more fervor. Her sunglasses were forgotten about as she moved to straddle him. He smiled as she bit his lip before lifting her and bringing her inside. They tore each other’s clothes off. Hands are grabbing, tugging, and pulling at each other to keep getting closer and closer together. Their moans synchronized as they reached their climax together. He looked up at her as she rode him through her finish, and he adored the way she looked right after. The sheen of sweat on her forehead and the pink flush that covered her face. She was absolutely radiating. She felt his grip in her hair release as he moved it down her back. His lips came to meet her chest as he kissed down into the valley of her breasts.

Their breathing was still ragged as he lay back and pulled her on top of him. He kissed her forehead and played with her hair mindlessly.

“I love you, Rafe Adler,” she said breathlessly.

“I know,” he laughed.

“I’m serious,” she said, looking up at him, “I see something in you no one else sees. They think you’re this monster that can’t be reasoned with. If you go after them like this, that’s all you’ll ever be to them.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffs.

“I don’t?” she said, sitting up, “The first chance he got, Nate ditched you, and now the second Sam’s back, he’s all for going after the treasure again? It’s not fair to you.”

“What do you know about what’s fair to me?” He shot back, “The first chance you got, you ran right back into Sam’s arms.”

“You sent me!” She defied.

“I sent you to get the cross, not eye fuck him for an hour in the courtyard,” he snaps, pushing her off of him and getting out of bed.

“You followed me?” She asked somber

He lets out a deep breath, running his hands over his face before turning to her.

“Of course, I followed you. And thank God I did, otherwise I would’ve never found out about your little make-out,” he said through gritted teeth.

She couldn’t meet his eyes. Embarrassed, she got caught.

“I chose you, Rafe.” She attempted to mend this situation. He looks over at her scornfully. Knowing she didn’t choose him out of want but by default.

“The whore crowns me second place, how lovely,” he says, apathetic.

“That’s low, Rafe, even for you,” she said, somberly.

“Is it?” he says, moving closer to her, “Was it low when I let a criminal violate my wife while I watched? Heard you laugh with him? Blush at the sound of his voice? Was that low, Tweety?” he monologues.

Her vision was blurred by her tears, and the realization that she hurts Rafe as much as he hurts her.

“That’s what’s not fair to me,” he said, getting up to go to the bathroom, his tone finite.

She sat in their bed, sheets pooled around her. It makes sense he would want the treasure first before losing the only constant he’s had in his life outside of money. Fifteen years together, and she never once considered that he actually might love her.

She grabbed her phone and saw she had a voicemail in her inbox. She had completely forgotten that it had rung earlier. It was an unsaved number, so she pressed the voicemail and held the phone up to her ear.

“Birdie, hi, I just wanted to call and say I haven’t stopped thinking about you since last night. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the night we met, honestly, and uh, I’m starting to hear how ridiculous I sound right now, Sully and Nate are staring, call me back when you get this.”

She slowly lowered the phone from her ear, eyes brimming with tears. How could she still be caught between the same two men all these years later? Why wasn’t Rafe enough?

It wasn’t long after Sam “died” that Rafe proposed. She could remember the day exactly. He had this immaculate floral arrangement laid out throughout their garden. It was like a rose garden sprang overnight. He had sent her on a mini treasure hunt throughout the estate with different clues, and it didn’t occur to her until the last one to look outside. When she looked out at him from the study, she saw him pacing back and forth, talking to himself, rehearsing everything he was going to say to her. She smiled at herself as she saw a small moment of vulnerability in his otherwise impeccable personality. He kept everything about him so tight to the vest.

Saying yes to him wasn’t hard; it was the weight of everything she lost that made it seem like an impossible answer to a very simple question. Luckily, her emotions got the best of her, and Rafe mistook her crying for a very happy yes. Fifteen years later, and it still felt like she was standing in front of him, looking down at him on one knee, speechless.

I did not anticipate the level to which replaying uncharted 4 after all these years would make me miss my brother

White Mustang
Pairing: Sam Drake x OC!Birdie x Rafe Adler
Summary: To save her father from crushing debt, Birdie made a deal with the devil. Treasure hunting alongside Rafe Adler promised fast money, but it became a fifteen-year marriage, a lifetime of control, and a debt she can never repay. She convinces herself she chose this life. That she belongs here. That she’s safe. But when Samuel Drake, the man she loved and lost, returns from the dead, Birdie is forced to confront the truth: was she ever Rafe’s to begin with, or has she been waiting for Sam all along to finally set her free?
Author’s Note: I know starting off your fanfic career in a mostly dead fandom is not ideal, but damn if these games did not take a piece of me with them. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them since I finished. Ao3 is currently down, so the link will be updated when it’s back online. I hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link | Masterlist

ITALY

The Rossi Estate on the Amalfi Coast sounded so romantic when Rafe pitched it as the location for their anniversary trip this year. What he conveniently left out was that it was the same location hosting a black-market auction featuring the coveted Saint Dismas cross. Rafe had been in search of this cross for almost their entire marriage, and it was the most committed she’s ever seen him. Rafe’s firm would also be joining him as he had recently taken it over for full control following his parents’ passing.

For weeks before the trip, he had been on nonstop “private” phone calls, verifying the cross’s authenticity. She usually didn’t mind being left out of his business calls; she retired after Panama, but something about this hunt in particular felt different. He didn’t share much with her, and in the past 2 years, it feels like he’s been pretty mum about the whole thing. Anytime she thinks about treasure hunting, she gets this pit in her stomach. She assumed this was why he was more withdrawn about this hunt.

The courtyard filled with lush greenery and lined with exotic sports cars was a sight to behold. As an avid car enthusiast, she made sure her car was the best on the lot. She’d come a long way from running her Dad’s mechanic shop as a teenager to now owning some of the most exotic cars in the world. It didn’t come cheap, and the price tag was the least of her concerns. Rafe’s wealth now was something she couldn’t get used to. The first time she’d seen serious cash was when Rafe first came into her Dad’s shop. It wasn’t how they met, but she regrets the day she let him in. Rafe was always sweet, spoiling her with whatever she wanted, but he never failed to mention what it took for her to get to where she was. He would laugh at how trivial her requests seemed sometimes, but he would do anything to make her happy…as long as it made him happy.

The auction itself had been droning for hours, and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. There was only so much champagne she could drink before her dress, which was already tight enough, would snap. It was a simple couture piece from Calvin Klein. She had seen it on Jennifer Lawrence a few years back and just had to recreate it. Her version was white, but damn if it wasn’t a timeless design. The night itself felt so restrictive; the crowd was more of Rafe’s class of people, and she couldn’t figure out why he was so eager to bid on the cross anyway. The last one turned up empty. Why would this one be any different? She did her best to support him, however, and he did look really handsome in his tux. She would never get over the sight of his wedding ring and watch on his left hand. Something about it made him seem so powerful and in command.

“Romantic evening, Hotshot,” she said, finally getting Rafe to herself.

“Romantic is when you’re wearing that diamond necklace and nothing else on our anniversary tomorrow.” He laughed, leaning in to kiss her. He pointed to the lot that just sold—a Van Cleef & Arpels diamond tie necklace from the late 1920s, priced at around $3.6 million.

“Is that so, Mr. Adler?” she teased. The excitement on her face was apparent as he moved to kiss her again. He had such great taste when it came to jewelry; she knew every time he came home with a velvet or leather box, she was in for a treat. Fifteen years together, and her favorite gift was the pink diamond ring on her finger.

“Very so, Mrs. Adler,” he murmured against her lips. They had unintentionally started to sway back and forth in a small rhythm. His hand resting on her lower back, and her arm around his shoulder, their hands interlaced at their chests, faces pressed together—the picture of marital bliss. She loved him when he was like this. They continued this public lovefest until they heard a voice, clear beside them.

“Mhm, Rafe, a word.” Nadine. The very mention of this woman’s name was enough to curdle her blood. And it did, every time. She’d had enough of Rafe’s involvement with her mercenary company, Shadowline. Her goons were ruining any and every historical site Rafe could buy up for a treasure he wasn’t finding anytime soon. She loved that Rafe was a treasure hunter; that’s how they met, but she couldn’t deny that he wasn’t very good at it.

“Is the lot up yet?” Rafe broke their little dance, looking over-annoyed to be interrupted.

“Not yet, they are moving it out of storage soon.”

“Alright,” he sighed, “I should go see about this. Tweety, I’ll meet you in a bit.” He said, kissing her.

“Ok, I think I’m gonna get some air,” she murmured before giving Nadine a look that could kill. Something Rafe never seemed to care about.

“Don’t go far.”

She nodded, then he kissed her hand and left to talk with Nadine.

She turned around and started to look for the nearest tray of champagne flutes. Nothing a quick word with Dom Pérignons couldn’t fix. She spots her first victim and goes in for a flute off the tray, when she catches a glimpse of the waiter. He resembles a ghost from her past. It can’t be him because the last she heard of him, he died in a jailbreak. The same jailbreak Rafe and Nate broke out of. Rafe had told her himself that there was no way he survived.

“There’s my girl!” She feels a large palm grab her shoulder, turn her around, before she sees the grinning face of a one Victor Sullivan. The smell of his cigar alone was enough of a signature to recognize him, but nothing beats the warmth of his face.

“Victor? What are you doing here?” she embraced him, then downed the rest of her champagne, looking nervously around the room for the waiter.

“Oh, you know, just in the area for business,” he laughed.

“Business?” she said, giving him a skeptical look, “Who’s the client?”

“It’s very confidential, sweetheart.” He said, looking at her assuredly.

“Ok,” she laughs, still not believing him, but too invested in the waiter to continue digging. “Hey, did that waiter look familiar to you?” she asks.

Sully looks around the room, then gives her a questioning look. “Who are we talking about here? There are waiters crawling all over the place,” he laughs.

She turns to point where the waiter went when she sees Nate walking up to them.

“Is that Nathan Drake? What’s he doing here?” she says, becoming more and more confused.

“Nate’s here? That’s a shock,” Sully says unconvincingly.

“Alright, what’s going on here? Is he your client?” she accuses.

Sully starts to answer, but is interrupted by the auctioneer, “In a few moments we’ll begin bidding on our next item… an inlaid wooden crucifix from the Trott Estate.”

They look over to the auction block and see the Saint Dismas cross.

“This cross isn’t hollow, is it?” she says, low, looking at Sully and seeing the shameless look on Sully’s face. “Avery’s treasure has to be the biggest pirate treasure ever. Rafe wouldn’t be interested otherwise.” She’s starting to piece together Rafe’s all-consuming obsession with the cross.

“Rafe’s here?” Sully says, in an attempt to change the subject. It doesn’t work.

“If it can lead him to the treasure, he’ll be the most famous treasure hunter in history. He’ll be a legend,” she realized aloud.

Sully gives her a look like he should’ve known better that Rafe was here. She puts her hands on her hips, looking around the room for Rafe, when she looks back at the auction block and sees the waiter.

She’s in a state of disbelief before taking in his features. Bushy eyebrows, hooked nose, long brown hair, chapped pink lips. She tries to downplay it all as if these aren’t the features of the only man she’s never gotten over. And it almost worked until he turned his head to the right, and she saw the flight of four birds across his neck.

“Holy shit, Sam Drake,” she says under her breath to no one in particular. She feels a hand on her shoulder, then turns her face to see Rafe standing next to her. He pulls her into his side by her waist before turning to Sully.

“Victor Sullivan! How the hell are you?” he moves to shake Sully’s hand.

“Rafe,” Sully responds, begrudgingly shaking his hand.

The two men continue talking while she looks back at Sam. She catches his eye and then looks away as if it burned her. Rafe knocked Sully’s drink out of his hand, and it snapped her back into their conversation.

“Cut the bullshit, old man. Now I don’t know how you scammed your way in here. But if you think… about bidding on Avery’s cross, I can tell you exactly how you’ll be leaving. In a goddamn body bag—”

“Rafe!” she exclaims, holding him back by his arm. He gives her a dismissive look as she releases her hold. The other guests around them stared.

“Well. You get my point,” he chuckles, no humor behind it.

“It’s been lovely seeing you both,” Sully says before leaving them alone.

Rafe turns back towards her, rage seething beneath the surface. She doesn’t tend to his ego, realizing that this cross will always tie the five of them together. She’s looking at Sam standing next to the cross before she laughs to herself, realizing what’s about to go down.

“Oh, would you stop looking at him, please!” Rafe demands.

She ignored him and stood there next to him, watching as the bidding started for the cross. She couldn’t understand the hold Sam had on her. She was just as transfixed on him as the other men in this room were on the cross. It had only been Panama, but when it was all said and done, she hadn’t stopped thinking about him since. He was her biggest what-if. She couldn’t forgive herself for not walking away from Rafe. She loved him, she did, or at least she tried to tell herself that multiple times a day. As if to will it to be true, but she knew no one had beguiled her the way Sam had.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Rafe’s grumblings about being outbid, “Five hundred thousand! Let’s get this show on the road here.”

She ignores him again and starts to walk towards Sam. He stares at her, walking his way, staring at her feet, eyes moving all the way up until he meets her eyes, and this time she doesn’t look away. Each step feels a mile long and inches away at the same time. She’s about halfway there when suddenly the power goes out.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. The backup power will come on shortly,” the auctioneer calls out. The spotlights come on, and Sam’s gone. Through the commotion of the room and murmur of the guests, she can hear her husband’s tantrum.

“Move it! Get out of the way! Stop him! Hey— stop that guy!” Rafe shouts, pushing through the other guests.

“What’re you doing? You’re letting him get away! Do you speak— !” He’s arguing with one of the guards blocking the exit.

Through her daze, she can feel Rafe grab her arm and pull her out of the room, back to the courtyard. He’s shouting endlessly about the Drake brothers, betrayal, and “I deserve it, not them.” Rafe sped off to their villa immediately.

“How could you not see they were there to steal it, Rafe?” She’s shouting over him and the roar of the engine.

“I don’t even know how they got in! This was a private auction!” He shouted back, slamming his hand against the wheel. Their shouting continued the whole way home. Rafe resents that the Drakes are behind this and, once again, foolishly duping her into being a pawn in their game, as if they don’t know where her loyalties lie.

When they reached the villa, Rafe stormed inside to take call after angry call with the firm, with Nadine, all about how they let the Saint Dismas cross get stolen right in front of them. It felt like the night had been a disappointment to both of them. Each of them leaving with nothing. He was so distraught from losing the auction that he hadn’t wanted to be near her at all. He had gone to sulk in the study with a glass of brandy. She stepped out onto the balcony of their room to smoke a cigarette when she got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” she spoke as she let out a drag.

“Hi, Birdie,” The deep vibrato of his voice warmed her body.

“Sam, how did you get my number?” she said. Her brashness disguised her wanting.

“Whoa, what’s with the third degree?” he laughs, “Besides, I’m not the one with the staring problem.”

She makes an annoyed face and rolls her eyes.

“I can hear the eye roll from here.”

Her face flushes. “What do you want?”

“Come see me,” he says, relaxed.

“What? No, I can’t.”

“Why the hell not?” he asks. She hears him take a drag on the other end of the phone. He can hear her smile at that.

“I’m married.” He barks out a laugh. She feels like she’s holding a shell up to her ear, and she can hear the beach.

“What?” she laughs despite herself.

“Get down here, alright?” he says, “I’m at the Terrazza Duomo.”

“And what do I tell Rafe?” she teases, calling his bluff.

“Tell him you’re leaving him for me.” A brief tension hangs in the air between the two before Sam says, “I’m kidding. I’ll meet you in the lobby in an hour,” then hangs up.

She stubs out her cigarette with the outsole of her heels and heads back inside. She’s greeted by Rafe standing in the doorway of their room. She’s barely entered through the balcony door when he asks her who she was talking to.

“No one, wrong number.”

“As if I’m stupid enough to believe that,” he sneers.

“What’s in the Saint Dismas cross?” she asks, more to twist the knife than out of genuine curiosity. “Well, had those two weasels not stolen it right out from under me, I’d have the answer I’m looking for,” he scowled, continuing into the room, undoing his cuff links. He knew what she was doing. Justifying whatever scheme she was going to pull on him. She couldn’t do anything without having someone to blame.

“And why do you care so much anyway?” He asks, sitting down to remove his shoes, “You told me you were done with all this.” He feigns innocence, but he knows she can’t stay steady under his thumb for too long.

“I know I wasn’t the only one who saw Sam Drake come back from the dead today,” she accuses, “so either you know how and why he’s back or you’re more heedless than I thought you were.”

“Now, Tweety, why would I know anything about where Samuel has been?” He stands, turning to walk towards her while rolling up his sleeves. He reaches her in a few paces, hands caressing her shoulders, and he gives her a look of pity.

“I told you, he died in Panama. Along with whatever twisted thing the two of you shared. Look how lucrative that turned out for you,” He laughed, looking down at her.

She feels a sting behind her eyes, but she can’t deny he’s telling the truth. He takes the back of his hand and runs it down her cheek. A consoling gesture from him when he knows he’s won.

“Tell me what he said on the phone,” he demanded.

“He wanted me to meet him,” she concedes, unable to meet his eyes.

“Good, you’re going to go and then come back and tell me what he has on me.”

“Rafe, I’m not-” he sticks a finger in her face.

“I wasn’t finished. You interrupted me, don’t do it again.”

She nods weakly.

“Get as much information as you can on that cross, or God help you, I will deal with you myself.” His finger was still pointed between them. His stare was firm and mean. “Is that understood?” He grabbed her face to look at him. All she could do was nod.

“I want to hear you say it, Tweety,” he cooed.

“I understand,” she said barely above a whisper.

He wiped a tear that fell before she could realize she was crying. He planted soft kisses on her face before pulling her in for a tight embrace. “No one loves you as I do,” he said with a final kiss on her lips before moving towards the bathroom.

When she got to the hotel, she felt inexplicably nervous. Like a first date. They’d never actually been on a date before, meeting in the middle of the Panamanian jungle searching high and low for an ultimately hollow cross left little time for anything else.

“Scusi, uh, sono qui per incontrare Sam Drake?” Her Italian was worse than she remembered. She had surprised herself by remembering even this much after who knows how many Dom Pérignons.

“Mi dispiace, no, non posso fornirle il numero della stanza di un ospite per motivi di sicurezza,” the hotel receptionist said, clearly annoyed by the question.

“Right, um, grazie,” she said awkwardly, backing away and walking towards the courtyard.

To her surprise, she walked out and found Sully sitting on a bench outside in a wonderful little garden, adorned by a sprawling fountain, and littered with stone benches. All overlooking the Gulf of Salerno. She softened at the sight of him before walking over to join him. He was smoking a cigar when she peered over and asked if she could join him.

“You could join me anywhere, Sweetheart,” he said. She gave him a loving look.

“Sorry about Rafe earlier, he’s a little…territorial,” she tried to find the nicest word to describe his rage.

“Ah, forget it.” Sully swatted his hand in front of him as if to rid them both of the whole encounter. “I’m sorry your reunion with Sam didn’t go better.”

“Sorry? Why?” she huffed out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Well, I thought you’d be happier than any of us to see their lover back from the dead.” He laughed to himself.

“He’s not my lover, Sully. It’s just,” she looked out at the tastefully lit garden in front of them, “more complicated now than it was, I guess.” She trailed off.

Sully looked over at her and saw the distant, solemn look on her face. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him.

“Listen, hun, you got your second chance with him. Why waste it on something as trivial as complications?” She considered his words. “Take it from an old man, we only get so many chances at love.”

“Sully, I’m married,” she stated bluntly.

Before he had a chance to answer, Nate walked over and saw their embrace. “Well, isn’t this cute? I’d love to join you, but we’ve had a long day. I’m ready to turn in,” he said, yawning. “Sam’s just behind me,” he said to her with a wink.

She looked over at Nate and let out a small laugh.

“I’m right behind you, kid,” he gave her one final squeeze before he stood up, “Give him a chance. Silly thing to waste another 15 years.”

She waved goodbye to them before walking towards the edge of the garden by the balcony. She didn’t have to wait for Sam long before she heard her signature whistle from behind her. A smile beamed on her face as she turned around to see him standing at the entrance of the garden.

“I didn’t think you still remembered that,” she said, smiling as he walked closer to her.

“I remember everything about you. Thinking of you was the only thing that kept me sane,” he admitted, suave she thought.

She bit back another smile, then felt the warmth coming off Sam’s arm as he walked to stand beside her. Their hands pressed against the banister overlooking the Amalfi coast’s never-ending skyline. She moved her pinky over to touch his, as that’s the only amount of touch she could handle.

“That’s a big rock,” he motions to her hand, reciprocating her touch.

She huffs out a laugh, “Oh, uh, yeah.” She looks at him, seeing him staring longingly at her hand. “Thank you.” Her ring was a 9.5 ct asscher cut pink diamond. She was never the type to envision her wedding or ring, but she’d be lying if this wasn’t the most impressive ring she’d ever seen.

She laughs to herself, Sam breaks his stare, “What?”

“Nothing, just, uh, after Rafe gave it to me, he said he mined the diamond himself.”

They both break out into a fit of laughter at the idea of Rafe doing any sort of manual labor. They leaned into each other as they laughed, their shoulders brushing, as their faces were now inches apart. They caught each other’s eyes before she backed up a little. She crossed her arms and turned slightly away from him–feeling defensive towards him. He noticed and didn’t hide his disappointment.

“Something on your mind, dear?” He asked, half joking. Her silent look up at him told him there was.

“Birdie, what’s wrong?” He stepped closer, positioning his hands on her shoulders and slowly moving his hands down to rest on her waist. She relaxed at his touch and met his hands at her waist.

“What are you doing back here?” She whispered, looking into his eyes, trying to find the answer.

“You really think Rafe’s the guy?”

She rolled her eyes at his impetuous question. The Drakes and their vendetta against Rafe.

“Yes, I do, Sam,” she pushed his arms off of her, backing up. “It’s been 15 years; he’d better be the guy.” She laughs bitterly.

Leaning her back against the banister, Sam had his arms at either side of her. He stood in front of her, blocking her from leaving.

“I know you’re not happy with him,” he stated, “if tonight was any indication, you looked miserable.”

“And you’d make me happy?” She looked up at him, hoping, longing, but not denying his statement.

“We both know I would make you a lot happier than Rafe.” He murmured in her ear.

The warmth of his breath against her ear mixed with the smell of his cologne and tobacco left her intoxicated. She could never deny the intense effect he had on her; it was all-consuming. Further proving his point. He dragged his eyes from the nape of her neck all the way up to her eyes before looking back down at her lips.

“Sam, I can’t,” she whispered, disappointed, their faces inches apart.

“I’m not asking you to.” His accent was stronger than she remembered. It was one of the first things that made her fall for him. She brought her hand up to caress his face. The smoothness of his youth was gone, replaced by the stubble of a grown man.

“Does he know how you got the scar on your eye?” He looked at her, waiting. Relishing in the fact that he knew the answer was no. Her silence confirmed this for him. He reached his hand to trace over it with his thumb.

Lowering his hand from her face, she asks him for a cigarette.

“Didn’t think you were a smoker,” Sam replied. Smirking, as he lit one for her.

“Didn’t think you would come back from the dead.”

He shrugs in fairness.

“What’s in the cross?” She says, looking up at him, taking a drag, then passing it back to him.

“I don’t know, I don’t have it,” He deflects, laughing.

“You have to know there’s something in it,” she teases, naturally leaning in closer to him, “otherwise why steal it?”

“I’m only here to steal you, Birdie,” he pulls her into him by her waist, and as the smoke from his mouth curls up to cloud the air above them. Their hands brush as he passes the cigarette over. She rolls her eyes. Birdie, that stupid nickname he gave her. All these years later, it still made her heart flutter. All-consuming. She could never deny him that.

“You’re a little late for that. Besides, you left me.” She inhales. The tension simmers between them as he looks at her audaciously.

“Rafe, send you here to spy on me, is that it?” He prods.

“No, you told me to come. If you send for me, you know I’ll come.” She smirks, exhaling.

“So you just run around doing whatever any guy tells you to?” He challenges.

“Not any guy,” she admits.

They are standing face to face, inches apart, cigarette forgotten in her hand. The humidity in the air is broken by a small breeze. If they didn’t know any better, it was like they never left Panama.

“Do you want me to run around and do whatever you say, Sam?” she dares him. He could devour her in this moment if she let him.

“No,” he takes the cigarette from her hand, “I want you to help me get to Captain Avery. Then I want you on all fours for me in front of the treasure,” he says, taking a drag.

“I’m retired,” she says low, hunger in her eyes.

“Is that what they call it now, huh?” He tilts the cigarette towards her, then with his finger traces down to the nape of her neck.

“I’m spoken for, Hotshot.” She holds up her hand to show him her ring, cigarette between her fingers, then inhales another drag.

“If you were my wife, I wouldn’t let you leave to meet strange men at a hotel all alone.” He leans in closer, giving her a mischievous look. “There could be a man waiting in the shadows to take you from me.”

Before thinking, he steps closer to her, takes her face in his hands, and kisses her. It’s a smoochy, sloppy kiss. Her lips tasted exactly how he remembered. He hears her gasp sharply, then feels her push him off her.

“Sam-,” she breaths out despite herself, crushing her cigarette out against the stone of the balcony. “Why did you do that?”

“What? You kissed me back!” he says, pointing towards her.

“Had I known you actually wanted to steal me from my husband, I would’ve never come,” she says, shaking her head.

“Your husband’s the reason you’re here in the first place,” he fires back.There is a silence that falls between them.

“You left me no choice,” she says solemnly, not even able to speak his name.

“I got shot, Birdie, what was I supposed to do, repel the bullets like Superman?” He laughs at her.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she snaps. The smile quickly falls from his face as he sees the hurt in her eyes now. It was never his intention to get so wrapped up in her when they met. He thought she’d be better off with Rafe. It was easier to let her hate him than to admit he was jealous.

“If you hate Rafe so much, why did you leave me with him?” She says, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m the one you hate,” she says, voice cracking.

“Oh, Birdie, please don’t do this to me,” he says, wincing as he turns around.

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry,” she says, aggressively wiping the tears from her face, “maybe if I get on all fours and give you everything you want, then you’ll consider how I feel for once!” Her voice came out brash and hoarse. Her anger at him pent up for over a decade, finally spilling over. She realizes Rafe’s words in this moment and decides to just walk away.

Sam, still not facing her, sees her leave out of his periphery and reaches out to grab her wrist. “I’ll tell you what’s in the cross, just don’t leave yet.” He murmurs, looking at her expectantly. She looks at him, unsure, but ultimately agrees to stay. She stays behind while he goes up to his room to break open the cross for both of them.

It’s a parchment, leading to Avery’s grave in Scotland

The text came through while she was smoking another cigarette. It seemed to be the only thing that kept her calm. Rafe had been scouring Scotland for 15 years, and the only clue leads right back to where he’s been stepping the entire time?

Another text: Across the Saint Dismas Cathedral

Holy shit, it’s real, she writes back.

She laughs at her phone in disbelief. A fifteen-year hunt, re-birthed by just having to walk across the street. She’s looking out at. coast when her phone starts to ring.

“Do me a favor, look across to the courtyard, then up, behind you,” Sam says on the other line. She sees a light flickering near a balcony, and then she sees Sam standing there looking back at her.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know, I know. You and Rafe are married. Very happily married. I wish you all the best, but trust me, it was never my wish to leave you with him.” He admits.

“I don’t know what to do with that. Goodnight, Hotshot,” she states.

“What? C’mon, don’t leave me now,” he says. She can see him slump down.

“I’ve been gone for an hour already, he’s gonna think I went missing,” she says, laughing.

“Ok, ok,” he says, hands up, surrendering. “Just do me one thing, before you go?”

She looks at him expectantly.

“Whistle for me.”

She laughs, amused at such a simple request. She lets out a haunting, 4-note whistle. Neither of them knows where the melody originated from, but it was truly her siren song to him. Or her bird call, as he liked to say. His Birdie. “Thank you, Sam,” she smiles into the phone.

“No, thank you, birdie,” he blows her a kiss before hanging up the phone.

so fucking evil that my aunt got me the full uncharted series EXCEPT for the lost legacy like okay i get it you hate me.