Worth
Was it all worth it?
That's the only thing Sam could ask in his cold, barely lit room, laying in this hard bed underneath a blanket that tickled his skin in the worst way. The pillow was at least comfortable. The walls of the room were gray, decorated only with a medium sized hole to allow some sunlight in. There wasn't much else in the room other than a wooden chair that stood in the corner, and a small table that was by his bedside.
They should really hire some interior decorators for this place.
Sam finally woke up after what he could safely conclude was a substantial amount of time. His face felt fuzzy, due for a taming. He was initially confused, trying to figure out where he was and how got here. He adjusted his laying position, propping the pillow against the headboard and moved to rest his back against it. Upon moving, a sharp pain pulsated deep in the right side of his abdomen. He let out a small cry of pain and gently grabbed his side.
Why did his side hurt?
As his mind shook off the lingering fuzziness, his memory slowly returned to him and he started putting the pieces together.
The horrible interior could only belong to Panama, the other prisons at least had some decency to them. He was here with his little brother Nathan and his...associate...acquaintance...business partner, Rafe. They were tracking a lead they had on Avery's treasure and it led them here. They didn't intend to stay here long, a couple of weeks at most, then go free to go where the treasure led them next.
They were blissfully ignorant of the curious eyes pointed in their direction, and those eyes pried. Those eyes wanted an in and a cut.
They begrudgingly accepted the new terms of their partnership. Four hundred million divided nicely by four.
Then shots were fired, the agreement dead in the water, and they had to improvise. They had to run. They had to take matters in their own hands and find their own way out. It was going well, all things considered.
But true to their luck, it quickly went to shit.
Sam was pinned down, alarms blaring and bullets flying everywhere. He could vaguely make out the sound of his brother calling out his name, urging him to jump across. Sam took a chance and jumped into Nathan's firm grasp. He tried to pull him as quick as he could, Sam scrambling to climb. And just when he was almost there...
He felt something, multiple somethings harshly pierce his right abdomen. Then something warm came rushing out of his mouth and spilled out with a frightening force. Even barely conscious, he knew the sight scared the absolute shit out of his brother.
His body went limp and, his grip of Nate abruptly loosened, and he fell. He hit the ground...hard.
The guards that happened to be in the area saw him, and they immediately went on the attack. Beating him, kicking him, berating him, and even laughing at him.
I'm dying you assholes. That was his last thought before everything went dark and quiet.
And now he's here. All caught up.
After a stint like that, a brief visit may have turned into a lifetime confinement. Sam's been to prison before, it came with the territory, but he always got out before long. But the rest of his life in prison? He couldn't even begin to fathom it. How long would it be before insanity started settling in? Sam was already starting to count the days.
Sam was quickly brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the door knob turning. Was the door unlocked the whole time? You'd think they'd learn.
The door opened and in walked a man that Sam quickly identified as a prison guard. But he doesn't recall ever seeing him before. Though that was mostly because all these guards looked the same to Sam. Same brown, butt ugly outfit, same disdain for the prisoners, same overall 'I'm an absolute dick, deal with it' attitude.
"Hola, Samuel. Como estás? The guard walked to him with a smile that was slightly off putting to Sam. His head was mostly shaved, the rest of his hair styled up in a mohawk. He seemed shorter than Sam, at least by a head and had a slight slim build to him. His skin was tan and harsh scars litter his face. His eyes, devilish and angelic at the same time, though just slightly more on the devilish side. He didn't appear to be young but not that old either, probably just a few years older than Sam at best.
In all honestly, the man's entire demeanor looked like the human manifestation of a ticking time bomb.
"I asked you a question, Samuel." The guard spoke again, traces of aggravation lacing his voice. Ah, he spoke English as well.
Sam just continued to glare at him, which he was sure was hardening by the second. He didn't know what game this guard was initiating, but he refused to play along.
But the guard didn't like that.
"Hey, blanquito?" The guard growled, anger already at its peak. "You're in my house now. Unless you want to be confined to that bed for however long you have left to breathe, you watch yourself. If I want you to speak, you open your mouth and fucking sing." He ended that sentence with a growling sneer.
The guard bent down and got in Sam's face. "If you don't like it, find a motherfucker who'll care. I'm sure you'll find one here."
Sam swallowed down numerous responses that would surely get his teeth knocked down his throat, he had a bad habit of doing that unfortunately. So he grit said teeth and responded with a curt, "Fine."
"See? The guard lightly tapped his face with a smile, his anger instantly evaporating. "I'm not a hard person to talk to, huh? I'll take care of you, gatito."
The guard then sat on the edge of the bed. "Now, I'll ask one more time. How are you feeling?"
Sam sighed softly before answering. "Alright, I guess. I suppose I could be worse."
"Si, Samuel, you really could." The guard shook his head. "Let me check on your wounds."
This guard seemed like the furthest thing from a doctor, but Sam didn't want to reignite the fire. He moved the blanket down and raised his shirt up. The guard, gently and not so gently, removed the bandages to examine it. Sam also took the opportunity to get a look for himself. The bullet wounds were hastily stitched up, definitely done without any care. When the guard pressed on the area with a finger, a rush of pain flew up the right side of Sam's body. It seems like, by some miracle, the bullets didn't damage anything important but it still hurt like hell.
The guard whistled. "They really did a number on you, Samuel. Tell me, was that stunt of yours worth it?"
Was it worth it? Sam remained silent. He didn't have an answer for that yet.
The guard, aggravated again by the lack of a timely answer, roughly grabbed Sam's chin, forcing them to make direct eye contact. "Out of the kindness of my heart, I will remind you one last time. Answer me when I am speaking to you. Or would you rather I cut that tongue out if you don't need it anymore?"
The question echoed in Sam's mind, an internal debate already rampaging his thoughts. He couldn't come to a concrete answer now, but wanting to give the man something to cool his volatile temper, Sam responded, "I don't know. Not yet."
The guard let go of his chin, sitting back. "Oh, you didn't find the treasure?
There was someone else who knew?
"No. This place just gave us another step in its direction."
The guard tilted his head in curiosity. "What of the cross?"
What the actual hell...
"Worthless." Sam responded.
The guard was shocked for a moment then shook his head and tsked. "Sounds like your stunt wasn't worth it, chico."
"It's still too early to tell."
"Live in the now, Samuel." The guard stood up. "Was it worth it?"
Sam sighed and acquiesced. "No. No, I guess not."
"There's your answer." The guard then turned and walked toward the door. "I'll be back with some food. With how long you've been out, you must be starving."
As if waiting for its cue, Sam's stomach growled loudly.
The guard chuckled. "I won't take long." He left, closing the door softly behind him.
Sam exhaled deeply, releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He tried to move his legs but was surprised to feel resistance. He promptly removed the blanket, ignoring his body's protest at the sudden movement, and saw that his legs had been chained to the bed.
Looks like they did learn.
He sighed and looked out the window.
The rest of his life, huh?
What a start.
I had this story idea festering for a few months now. I'm almost certain this was supposed to be a long and simple one-shot but then the guard in question just transformed into Vaas out of nowhere and whoops I have a full blown cross over story. It may slightly deviate from how Sam described the guard in UC4, so I hope that's forgivable =)
This is going to be snapshots involving the interactions between Sam & Vaas, as well as provide some insight of what Sam experienced while in prison. Time will be jumping forward at times but I will indicate how much time has passed here and there. Right now I have it capped at, at least ten chapters but that could change if more ideas come to mind.
Thanks for reading this somewhat odd crossover and let me know what you think. Please review! =)
