- Chapter Thirty-Nine -

Why, When, And Who

Or had she?

[Into The Mind Of A Journalist]

"She's been in there an awfully long time..." hesitation and worry interlacing intricately into an uneasy marriage, Elena left the sentence to hang in the air as she sized up her companions for their opinions.

Well, the adult ones - Cassie had made herself scarce, although she'd probably just wandered off to her room because nothing was happening in a hurry. Being that this entire ordeal was hitting dangerously close to the old days, that was probably for the best. Anyway, she'd probably pop back into the picture once things got interesting; she usually did. One could even argue Cass had an unusual knack for being in the right place at the right time. The luck of the Drakes.

As each member of the family had their own bathroom, Nathan was no stranger to the amount of time a person could take in the restroom, so he seemed largely unresponsive to the situation. Non-situation? Please just let it be nothing. Gathered together in a cluster at the front sitting area, her spouse was more preoccupied with the armrest than he was with his brother's work. Nate and staying still were never going to be on speaking terms, and she was okay with that. What the older blonde was less alright with was that he had seemed to wash his hands of this whole affair.

Parents concerned for the wellbeing and safety of their daughter, neither Nathan nor Elena were instantly on board with Sam bringing his work home with him, however when they'd thought it was just Daniella that would be visiting, it didn't seem too risky. After all, there wasn't a universe around where they couldn't deal with a single teenage girl. And that was taking into consideration the fact that she was Rafe Adler's daughter no less. What wasn't being weighed, apparently, was just how much pain that girl was in. Even in her head she didn't like to play the card, but truthfully the woman thought that her husband would have been more sympathetic given his own background. Instead he'd rather pay more attention to the enigmatic "doctor" (which in another light was probably for the best).

Mouth falling ever so slightly as she shifted a hair closer to the guest bath, Elena wished she could read Nathan's mind. Still reeling from the discovery that Rafe had had a family, she doubted he was honestly this indifferent. He was just too good a guy. Unless if maybe his focus was more on that Rafael kid for a reason? Inviting and generous spirits at their cores, by nature they were a the-more-the-merrier type of family, so neither was the sort to get hung-up on suspicion. True, it would be lying to say that the thought hadn't occurred, but that just went with the territory.

Nothing to be gleaned for certain at face-value, monetary compensation was the most logical of motivations (after all, it was Sam's end game, right?), yet there was just no knowing. Claiming to be the younger brother of a veterinarian from the city, this Rafael Paredes could have been anyone or anything! A serial murderer, a petty thief, or just a run-of-the-mill charlatan. Or maybe nothing remarkable at all. While that was entirely possible, how often had that been the case in their adventures?

Young man engaging in meaningless pleasantries with Nathan - weather, how long have they lived in this beautiful home, that type of thing - he had seemed to be cautious of the girl's health when they first arrived. Now that she had bravely played the part of being capable of managing a simple task on her own, much of that tenderness had evaporated. Perhaps he was merely attempting to savior a moment to himself, she really couldn't say at this point. For the child's sake, she sincerely hoped that that was the case, that this wasn't yet another hurdle to send her careening down the same path as her father.

Speaking of Rafe and dark paths, that just left Sam. Unable to completely forget just how dedicated to a cause he could be, seeing as the brunette had invested so much thus far, Elena thought her brother-in-law would know better on this one. Four weeks (give or take) wasn't a terribly long time by any stretch of the imagination, however it had been enough that the elder Drake could pretend that he had gotten to know the young woman. Or at least know her well enough.

Equally encouraged by the unspoken closeness the thief and heiress had fleetingly displayed on the dock, Elena's inner journalist directed the inquiry in his direction. "Do you think we should go check on her?"

Intentions aside, that certainly got everyone's attention.

Despite being a father that had been there for his daughter every step of the way, a panicky Nate was predictably quick to bow out. In his head it was probably wiser to leave the matter to a more feminine influence. "What if she's just changing? You saw her bring in all those bags, 'Lena."

As the treating physician, it stood to reason that young Mr. Paredes had been responsible for the various sutures almost visible beneath the wide hem of the girl's billowing cotton shift. Reports of what had befallen victims of the Orange Tiger leading the imagination to what might have been hidden below the over-sized gown, it was more than easy to assume that the surgeon had seen the heiress in a delicate state before. Yet for whatever reason, he too declined to spring to action.

"Miss Adler is a trauma patient - this is likely just her mind catching up to her reality." Face almost the perfect mask of stoicism but for the smallest of chinks in his armor, the blonde figured that he would act if it was absolutely necessary, but it wasn't high on his list of priorities. Just what is your game?

Once more it came back full circle to Sam.

Rafael may not have been in any great rush to seek out his patient, however, when the options ran out it became transparent that he was paying better attention than he let on. Tilting his head almost quizzically towards his traveling companion, the young man was quick to chime in with his two cents. "I think that's your cue, friend. After all," hint of something deeper between the two men, it was nigh impossible to miss the sting shaded beneath the frosted chill, "Daniella knows you so well, Samuel. You're so comfortable."

Daniella? Not Miss Adler? Interesting...

"Fine." In spite of his gruff tone and refusal to so much as turn his head towards the spare bathroom, she noted that the historian had accepted the task a little too easily. Funnily enough, Elena wasn't entirely asking anyone else to go, merely if they thought she was worrying for nothing. "It's not like this would be the first time."

Word choice - or in this case lack thereof - was Nate's first major clue that the relationship his brother had with his client wasn't purely innocent. Never fully able to get the entire story out of her spouse (although she'd heard enough), the one-time reporter imagined that living another lifetime with his brother like he had, there was a whole plethora of dirty deeds that came to mind. None of which would have left the elder smelling like roses. Just a kid himself, it was doubtful that Nathan was much better, but at least he had grown up since then.

Taking a deep breath before her own bias colored the case against her in-law, the blonde shoved away all memory of something that might have happened a few years back. Keyword being MIGHT.

Called for after a couple of years radio silence, the guys had come together to take a well-earned boys night; Elena didn't know any of the exact details, but she had pieced together a picture, and it wasn't good. Or entirely legal. As a working father with a full plate, the younger Drake had ended up tapping out relatively early, but the same couldn't be said for the rest. According to Charlie the charges were dubious at best; whatever the truth was, all Elena knew was that everyone had been barred from a chain of hotels in Vegas, at least two different casinos, and a wedding chapel. All in one night. Nate wasn't perfect either, but at least he hadn't been the one drunkenly hitting on the nineteen year old daughter of an Elvis impersonator.

Armrest no longer captivating his every last ounce of attention, the younger Drake was forced to do a double-take as the lanky figure rose from his perch. Accusation one of many thoughts and emotions to befall the deep reflecting ponds that were his dazzling true blues, the former thief could only stare at his sibling. It wasn't often that Nate was rendered speechless, however this was certainly one of those times.

But was he more bothered by the fact that the girl was so much closer in age to Cassie than any of Sam's other friends had been, or could the bigger issue be boiled down to who the young woman was? Rather, who she was related to? For as well as she knew her husband after all these years, even Elena couldn't be certain.

Shrewed enough to read the sudden shift in the climate, Rafael interjected out of seemingly nowhere, "If I may, I believe there's been some miscommunication." Accent smooth as a river of fine silk and bearing as calm as they came, it was difficult to believe that he wasn't a licensed professional. "Unfortunate as it is, mi amigo is referring to something that happened on the way over here. You see, Miss Adler accidentally broke a few of her more serious stitches whilst taking a bath, and Sam was an integral part of her recovery."

The explanation was so clinical, cold almost, yet it was the fact that he had reverted back to the more formal usage of the young woman's surname that stuck out. At least that was the sore thumb for Elena. Wanting to always see the best in his brother, Nathan visibly settled down; judging from how slowly he took his eyes off his brother, there might've still been some some doubt left over. More than a tad peeved at being volunteered for the job, Sam seemed genuinely surprised when the script had flipped and Rafael actually covered for him. It was a small and momentary break in the tattooed brunette's scowl, however the blonde caught it without too much effort.

Just what was going on with those two? Or better yet, the three of them? Well so long as it didn't spill over and impact Cassie, the woman supposed they could sort that all out at their own leisure. Unless of course one of their party wasn't fit to carry on with the routine...

[Sam Called Dibs On This Game]

Already on her feet and that much closer to the bathroom than the rest, Elena succumbed to the little bug that whispered into her ear the suggestion to check on Dells herself. And that would have been perfectly alright by Sam, if all her pestering hadn't already led up to some big thing. Perfectly comfortable prior to being pushed into action, perhaps it was bit unfair to saddle his little sister with the blame, seeing as it was inevitable that she would follow her curiosities through to their natural conclusions. Or was it merely maternal instinct? Whatever it was that had kicked this all off, the ex-con was simply ticked-off.

Irked that he had to get up to play the hero yet again, insulted by the designs of the blight and further salted by the princess entertaining them before they had even landed, the brunette had only gotten increasingly more pissed the longer the day wore on. Blows and verbal jabs he could take - even before losing thirteen years in Panama, Sam had taught himself to endure - but all the little inconveniences on top of the betrayal was proving too hard a pill to swallow.

Rafael was getting on his last nerve, and it was made all the more infuriating when the good doctor had opted to back him up when Nate began to question what was going on. The hell had that been about?! All things considered he probably should have been grateful for the save, but he never asked for it! Maybe for the kid it was all about his kicks, but for Sam it was starting to feel dangerously close to personal. This was his family, Dells was his... his... Well Sam met her first!

Temper shorter than the fuse on one of Captain Avery's mummy bombs, the brunette figured that since he had been roused for the job he might as well do it. If the blonde wanted to play support, by all means she had every right.

Dells might not appreciate it but-

Shit!

Everything between the pair in the hotel bathroom had heated so rapidly and with such intensity that it was far from a cinch to recall how it had all began. Sweet little heiress, pretty little clone, nasty little temptress with a dirty mouth, things spiraled out of control faster than water out of a drain. Rewinding to a time before the bloody flower, before the fawning limbs and his wet shirt, there was just a girl terrified to be left alone - after narrowly escaping what she had, who could blame her? How could you be so careless?!

Heartless Lamia in disguise, Bai would have called what he discovered "the scene of a horrible crime", however the reality was that it would have been better described as a mental break-down.

Pocket knife abandoned on the tile, strands of dark locks trailing over the edge of the waste basket like spider legs, technically Elena had arrived on the scene first and was already over the girl. Witnessing the same exact things as her brother-in-law, obviously the woman had made a beeline for the frail creature huddled in the corner. Body racked with tremors and voice scarce more than a single long sob, Daniella must have realized the same thing he had and subsequently had a panic attack.

"Why did you leave me alone?" Too distraught to be a proper accusation, her hands clutched blindly at the body in front of her; terrified so badly that she couldn't tell who she was speaking to, Dells shook her head from side-to-side, "Why? Y-you said we could work something out... You promised me. Sam, you promised me..."

Mother card not even applicable for this one, Elena pulled the heiress into her arms. She didn't know the girl, and the motion was impeded somewhat by the placement of the toilet, but it was quite possibly the first 100% genuine thing Daniella had ever experienced in her life. Bai meant well in the beginning he supposed, and Rafe might have had a moment with the child, but Sam believed the heiress when she had told him that she had no one. That didn't seem fair.

Lesson learned long ago that life was the least compassionate dealer you will ever meet, the gambling conman almost thought that it was funny he would compare the girl to his little brother with said sibling only a few feet away. It wasn't the first time he'd seen Daniella in a similar light to the ball of floof that Nathan had been, but with everything that had happened it seemed like a comparison that had run its course. Apparently not - Sleeping Beauty was just something that he had to protect, just like he had had to look after his little brother.

So then should he really be looking at her the way he did?

[A Shorn Doll]

"Please," imploring from a sincere place, as the young woman clung to Elena she began to see a little bit clearer, "please don't leave me again. I'm not strong enough, not yet... Please, I... I..." Struggling in more ways than one, the last Adler gave, "I can't."

Blinking, it had taken a few moments to piece together that the person that held her wasn't nearly the same general shape, that the skin was softer and the frame considerably shorter than herself, not taller. That blonde woman? On one hand, at least this meant that there was someone else there with her, but on the other Daniella was really only comfortable with one individual in particular. Still, almost anybody was better than no one at all. If there was no one...

Mama would be so disappointed in her. More importantly, her father would have been disgusted by all the weakness she allowed to rule her life these past couple of weeks. The last thing she wanted was to let her daddy down, but surely he would have understood a little bit, if he knew everything that was happening in her life. Right?

That was probably the cue for her to shake this hideous display off, to brush away the dust and take back that fire that burned so fleetingly in her belly. Mama would have demanded it, Daddy would have desired it of her, and she herself would have liked to be that confident woman that knew what to do. Too many times she'd broken, and too many times she'd broken her promise to be better, so how many more instances like this would she need to be that ideal version of herself?

I'm not strong enough, not yet. Well now seemed like a pretty damn good time to try to change that.