- Chapter Seventy-Nine -

A Gift Of Hope And Despair

Fan whirring with the very real struggle to keep up with the demand being placed on the engine, the core processor of the machine was growing particularly warm. Short of being able to sizzle up a round of bone-in ribeye steaks, the heat wasn't quite worrisome enough to contemplate turning off the game, however it was enough to be glad that he had had the foresight to use the table and not his lap. The dumb part was that it wasn't even that demanding of a game, but it was an older model running it. Mind made up as a chorus of pews joined in to the electric din, Jian promised himself that he would crack down and buy himself a new laptop for situations like this. Maybe he'd even call it a wedding present.

Hmm. Still not entirely on board with Yahui's idea that he was going to be a married man soon, the young crime lord found himself distracted by thoughts of his bride-to-be. Fear causing the pupils to dilate, it was the bright pink mark glowing beneath her eyes that were the most memorable part of that morning in the grove; Ludo could attest to how brightly the wound had shone. Mind becoming more and more occupied by the satisfying sound of gun metal against bone, the gangster's avatar was obliterated by a well-placed head shot from a very patient camper.

"Was I wrong?" Wondering this action out loud more than once that weekend, the thing Jian couldn't make up his mind about was if it had been the right course of action. At the time it had seemed right, but now it seemed that the further removed he was from the moment, the more flimsy the argument became.

Having given his two-cents on the matter already, his best friend simply rolled his eyes and kept at the much more interesting mobile game that ate up a good chunk of his earnings. As the one trustworthy witness of the meeting, Ludo peered up from his novel to voice his opinion that she would be more malleable with kindness, "You win more flies with honey than you do with vinegar."

Saying among the many that he had first learned prior to coming to America, Jian dropped his shoulders and evasively turned away from his team of confidants to opt out of the next match. Beyond its limit for the time being his computer was done for the day, and anyways he really wasn't in the right head space to keep playing. Ludo had a point, but the again so did Zanny - the girl had to learn her place. Surely now she would know better than to doubt that he meant business, right? One would think so, but...

Her family history told quite a few interesting stories, so it seemed highly unlikely that she would meekly comply without at least trying to find some way to get clever. And really, it was just smart business to assume that some kind of shenanigans would ensue. So, the question became how could he incentivize the heiress into doing things the easy way? Ludoviko wasn't wrong to point out that she had grown close to the whole Drake family, that she wouldn't react well if they were to make a scene. Zan was naturally disappointed by that, however he wrote it off as par for the course for the bride-to-be.

[Twenty-Two Thoughts In A Single Instant AKA Wait, Why, Win]

Pressed into the smooth expanse just above the place her brow would knit, Sam's lips were nearly crushed against the flat surface of her forehead, full with an un-uttered prayer. Mute as a mutineer, his normally wagging tongue was wrapped around an (uncharacteristically sappy) unspoken vow to never intentionally hurt his baby girl. Dells may have been related to a pair of the biggest assholes on the planet by blood, but that didn't mean she deserved to suffer for it - in his mind, she hadn't earned a reason to suffer at all. Well, there was one reason he could think of, but damn if it wasn't something he himself was intensely guilty of, technically.

Stung certainly one word that came to mind, it did more than rankle to have to bear witness to a moment like that. Bitter another great buzzword for it, the unbiased truth was that it was probably for the best. Sleeping Beauty was still only a girl after all, a sheltered princess with so much left to experience - this detour into deviation being one of the more tawdry items on the checklist - and sooner or later the day would come when he'd have to give her up.

At the end of the day there was no hiding from the fact that it was equal parts impossible and unkind to even try to remain in the picture for too long, that it would only hurt the both of them. Overstaying his welcome was the one thing Sam could take pride in not doing, and it would be bad form to begin now. Although, deep down the idea of waking up next to her silhouette was rather welcoming... Keeping the girl warm in the middle of the night, holding her through anxiety-induced nightmares, waking up each morning to document the natural shift from false starlight back to jitter-producing caffeine.

Genuinely playing the role of the hero for a change, Drake told himself that not letting Dells know just deeply he had come to care was sparing her from the worst of it. Hey, the silver fox consoled himself in less time than it took to look at a clock, everyone else has already gone trough this, so it's finally my turn to go and take one for the team. For her. Because somehow - some when - the prickly survivalist had come to regard the heiress enough to do that much.

This gig couldn't last forever.

Except, the heiress seemed to have her own ideas.

In too deep now, whatever strength the young woman thought she had had evaporated like water, leaving only the dry bedrock below. Brain so scatter-shot that she was totally unsure how that even remotely or applied or made even a lick of sense, the golden ghoulie could only rely on what she was feeling in her heart. Not that it even needed to be said, for her own sake she just had to let it out somehow lest she combust in place. You'll never feel the way I feel about you, but I think I love you, Sam Drake.

An hour ago, that thought might have terrified her, but now... even if it was one of those unkeepable promises, Daniella wasn't all that afraid, because her brave knight in his stolen armor was there for her, swearing that he intended to never hurt her ever again. Epitome of the girlish fantasy, it might not have been the kind of love she craved, but it was that he did at least like her on some level. How can one person mean so much to another, and yet they would never even know the half of it? Absolutely two of the last people she wanted to dwell on at this juncture, the train of thought brought her back to her parents; as much as the wounded princess loathed the idea of relating to the woman, she couldn't help but wonder if this unrequited pang was anything like what her mother had felt for her father.

Her father, who until so recently had been the single most important person in her life...

Maybe it was pushing things too far, thinking that there was another contender; undeniably winning the crown of brash, reckless action was what happened next. Borderline rude even, time itself went from hanging frozen at the end of a limp thread to not existing at all, as evidenced by the alien force that wrested away control. Breath hitching in a panicked second where she forgot how to breathe properly, the next thing Daniella knew was that her body was steering itself independently of the hang-ups in her mind. Trusting that Drake would be there to catch her, the young woman took a blind leap, fully aware that there was nothing to halt the fall but the hope that there was still any form of a spark left between them.

Bleak and downright doomed, both the thief and the heiress expected to come away from this affair destroyed, irrevocably pulverized, shred to fine meaty ribbons. As the more seasoned of the two, some part of the auburn-haired grifter knew enough to believe that he would get over this one-sided shot at romance, yet in the present they could only despair in the anticipation of the end. The princess in her ivory tower didn't have that comfort. No past, no present, no future, there was only this moment to cling to, this desperate kiss.

Light as the feather of a dove and yet packing the punch of a demolitions team, there was no mistaking that feeling. That pulsating boost of bravery, the all-too-real illusion of certainty... it was enough to make one invincible: pressed close to Sam, Daniella fancied herself strong enough to face the likes of her torturers; holding onto Dells, Samuel dreamed himself capable of anything, of being able to look in the mirror and seeing someone worthwhile. All powerful and whole, the only thing to be scared of now was what came next. That inevitable withdraw, the rending of the heartstrings as the other pulled away, the shrinking ball of secret hope that refused to die no matter how small it got. Yet in this stolen moment...

Heaven? Fooled before by cheap imitations, now that they were potentially facing the real deal, both the historian and the schoolgirl found themselves asking the same set of questions. Neither wanted this dream to end, even though that moment had to happen.

Please, just let me have this one thing.

Bodies syncing up naturally to move in tandem with one another, it wasn't long before one quick - albeit self-conscious - peck turned into bringing the other closer in a search for reassurance. Ensnared in a bounty hunter's toothy death trap, as his strong arms enclosed around her waist baby girl inched herself closer to fill all the empty spaces; glancing against enamel, the taste of cigarettes was beginning to taste an awful lot like home. Well, perhaps 'home' was the wrong word for it, all things considered, but it was a place that felt safe and familiar.

Gimme more, the insatiable hunger within demanded with unrelenting vigor, leading to a physical shift that found the aged adventurer with a full lap and an even more occupied mouth. Tongue broaching the divide with only a brief pause for consideration, the gullible ingenue was more than eager to mash everything she had into him just to feel close and connected. Sternum-to-sternum, baby girl was quickly becoming increasingly aggressive as baser instincts gave in (and he couldn't say that he hated it). Gimme more!

"Wait." Half sounding like there was more to add, as much as he was getting into the moment and wanted to indulge in the fantasy, he still found himself changing his grip on the ravenous little one. Dubbing it as the wrong way, Sam was clutching her royal highness by the middle, holding her back to the point just before the grand pilgrimage commenced. Sorry to have to be the one to put a stop to things, the adventurer shook his head to prove he meant it.

Struck square in the most vital of places by the change of behavior more than the call for breath, before he had the chance to add the non-verbal decline, the heiress froze with her hand midway to his neck. Hit by the impact of a single word, the platinum pretender could feel the fissures starting to run along the tough outer muscle of her heart. Valves and arteries running cold, it was what went unsaid that resounded in her head over and over again on repeat. No. No, no no no no.

No, you can't come with me Daniella.

No honey, Daddy isn't coming home tonight.

No, we can't be friends anymore.

No, you can't sit with us.

No, I don't want to go out with you.

No, you don't have any say in the matter.

No, no, no, no no no.

No. After everything that had transpired on this godforsaken chase from hell, she'd come too far to not at least try to fathom where the sudden change of heart had come from. Head held high to wade through the trenches, shoulders squared for a face-off, and gaze firm as they locked eyes, even if it was only as friends the heiress wanted to understand the man. Was that truly so wrong? Not just a manner of speaking, she genuinely wanted to know if it was a bad thing to think that they could call themselves friends after all of this, that they could get where the other was coming from. It probably was, right? Well, shit.

"Why?" More than aware of the several different reasons she had given her bodyguard to draw boundaries, the stubborn Adler in her wasn't about to let it slide without a fight, hence the challenge evident in her sharp tone. If they weren't going to resume, she would at least like to know why.

Face medusa-ized into a mask of disapproving and demanding stone, the shifty ex-con could tell that the lack of an adequate answer wasn't going to fly this time. Because... I'm scared. Hesitating to come clean with the three of them, the man nearly made himself say the words so that the universe could know the truth at long last, however... Admitting even that much out loud was making the power she held over him a real, tangible thing. If she knew, Dells could use the knowledge to hurt me. While the reasonable part of him knew that she wouldn't mean to do it, the larger part - the grossly illogical side - couldn't forget the hard lessons learned from the past.

Thoroughly convinced that he was no good for anyone in large doses, the major argument for the rapscallion's case was that the times he had actually tried, it always blew up in his face. Nathan was his brother, and yet no matter what he said, there were definitely moments in their relationship that they only got along because of the obligation. Granted they may have been far and few between in the grand scheme of things, they still existed. Still though, between all the mistakes made, the ups and the downs, in the end it was one bridge that would never fully burn. But that was Nathan.

Despite what he had lead Dells to believe about his feelings towards Rafe, it wasn't strictly true - for a short minute, there had been something more between them. A shared destructive spark, a short-lived firework show, that self-same ambitious drive to get what they wanted at at any cost. Well, almost any cost. Ultimately Sam at least had known when to pull out (despite not truly wanting to), but that didn't change that the two of them were so similar.

Except, it was the truth that he didn't regret that things had ended, or that he was with the daughter now.

Speaking of kids, the fact was that this deep-seated fear went back even further than the likes of Rafe Adler. For the Freudians out there, a rather sound argument could be made that he was traumatized by the death of his mother and was therefore unable to let anyone close lest they leave him too. He wouldn't go that far, but he would agree that his teen years in the orphanage didn't help him any.

Take Crystal for example - if he had been an ordinary guy, the self-proclaimed descendant of Drake might have gotten suckered into staying with her, trying to raise their boy as best two dysfunctional kids could. It would have been an on-off relationship like any other, and the man would bet that his biggest problem would be that he kept them at a distance. The only person Sam ever let get close was Nathan, and then to some extent Sullivan, but that later one had taken an assumed death, the better part of two or three decades (depending how you sliced it), and a pirate treasure to get on an alright path.

He just couldn't trust anyone.

I love you, but...

You seriously thought this was more than a hook-up?

We had some good times, sure, but my bottom line matters more.

You're hot, but I need something more stable...

You're just here to kill the time.

You slept with my twin! Okay, so that one was more complicated than it sounded, but the point stood.

Words failing the silver-spattered brunette miserably, because Adler lite clearly wasn't going to back down this time, he was doing his utmost to keep his gazed fixed anywhere else but her leering glower. Eyes continuously drawn back to the impatient lit of her pout, Sam made a compromise to focus a hair lower on the proud hollow of her throat. Cradled just right, some kind of jewelry would look really nice there. Kiss still a faint taste on his lips, she looked so inviting to him... like a warm plate of eggs and a hot slice of toast.

Keeping his pretty little plate of breakfast at bay while racking his brain for what he could possibly say to get around this, the historian may have come to slow realization that evading the issue was the same as lying. Which was basically putting himself in a position to be screwed all over again. On that token, could he really open up like that and let her know what was eating at him? Taking a deep breath as she continued to watch him expectantly, the lanky ex-con figured that he was about to find out.

Dells, I... Still not finding any semblance of an answer, the life-long career criminal went back to a place of familiarity, rubbing her shoulders for comfort.

Sam struggling to find words for anything something she genuinely never expected to see, the heiress cocked her head down at the soothing swirls he was motioning over the cobbled curve if her collarbones. Sensing that the action was as much for him as it was for anyone else there, it dawned on Daniella that this show was for the uncertainty and reluctance, for the anxiety of having to admit to something that he frankly wasn't ready to. Acquainted with that feeling more than any one person should be, it all clicked, that he was hesitating for a reason. Asking herself if this was him being afraid, it didn't make any sense, because the Sam she knew wasn't scared of anything! Right?

Of course everyone is scared of something, idiot. Making up her mind to approach this from a different angle, Dells placed her left hand over his, and with her right... she lightly caressed his cheek, just below the faded mark she had left.

Informing her man that he could trust her without so much as uttering a single syllable, to prove that she was dead serious Daniella ghosted the pad of her thumb across the bruise with a soft smile that genuinely reached her eyes. Lingering in place to convey that she would never do anything to hurt him either, it wasn't quite telling him the full extent of it, however Sam clearly wasn't prepared to hear the rest. For now, this could be enough.

[Plan B]

Game powering down to suspended mode after so many minutes of the player sitting captivated by thought, the young man was startled out of his reverie by the electric ping on his phone. Lacking supernatural powers, there was no way to know how long the message was or what exactly it would entail, but the man had a pretty strong hunch as to who was texting him. In fairness, the correspondence had slowed considerably since the last time they spoke, however there was no way in hell it was going to stop.

Helping his master by remaining silent and coming up with his own ideas, Ludo closed his novel with a papery sigh, fingertip snagging on the worn sticky note he used to save his place. Zanny did what he did every time he was in thought, which was to stare at the screen of his cell until one of the letters, numbers, words, or images sparked an idea. Normally that didn't take very long, but as this was a delicate situation, he'd have to bring more than the first mad notion that popped into his head.

Cautious of being berated for taking too long with his plan - the Grandmaster wasn't getting any younger - the baby-faced gang leader frowned at the device. Pausing just a moment longer in pig-headed defiance, the boss slowly opened his inbox to get a load of... whatever it was his 'superiors' wanted him to see.

"Just get on with it already," irked at the whole thing from the start, Zanny was the only individual that could get away speaking to Jian like that, "while we're young." Ludo might have some leeway in the same vein, but he wasn't about to test his luck.

Six years old again with scabby knees and a ponytail, little Jian rolled his eyes at the tallest boy he'd ever met, "Yeah, yeah." Obliging his two most loyal henchmen with a sassy shake of the device, he made quite the spectacle of pulling up the image Yahui sent. Just a single shot with the menacing words 'for the bride' written on the header, the man broke into a smirk. "Well boys, we have her."

Author's Note:

Yeah, I'm a loyal PlayStation gal myself, so I don't know if PC/Laptop games use engines in the capacity I described or not. Actually, on that note, I really don't knock jack all about computers either. It sounded accurate enough to me though, so here we are. To be fair, this story takes place in the near future, so who knows how gaming/technology will have evolved? Speaking of games, if you look closely, you can see a subtle reference to a fatality in Mortal Kombat 11.