Rafe relaxed on his bed, contemplating while listening to the sounds of the house. It was late and the others would start their end-of-the-day routines soon. A little while earlier he had heard Sam and Sully arguing about something but he couldn't quite make out what it was. Eventually Sully seemed to have won, and everything had gone quiet again.

By now Sully had gone to his room for the night, and Rafe was just waiting for Sam to do the same. He had heard the routine enough that he wasn't able to fall asleep until it was completed. If it was ever off schedule then his whole routine would be thrown off. It sucked how much this place was integrating into him.

Tonight, though, it seemed like everything was on track. It wasn't long before he heard Sam making his way down the hallway. Only, there was no pause at Rafe's door. Sam went to the bathroom, then went to bed.

That wasn't the routine.

Rafe sat up straight and listened to see if Sam was going to come back. When several minutes passed and nothing happened, he cautiously got to his feet and walked over to his door, then turned the knob experimentally. It was left unlocked.

Rafe tilted his head and squinted. This had been a constant for weeks- he had a hard time seeing how Sam could just forget to lock him up. Even slugs got habits from that much repetition. That meant that either Sam was more stupid than a slug or that he was up to something.

Well, Rafe wasn't going to fall for it. He shook his head and locked the door from his side, then went back to bed. He didn't think Sam would do something as stupid as to sneak into his room when he was sleeping, but he wasn't going to underestimate him either. It was more likely that Sam was hoping he would take the opportunity to try to get a knife again, or to escape, and then Sam could get back in Sully's good graces.

Fuck that. Rafe was too smart to take that bait. He wasn't going to risk what he had just for a whiff of freedom.

And he wasn't going to let a little detail like that bother him all night and keep him from sleeping, either.

Damnit.

The next morning Sam was in the kitchen getting breakfast ready. Victor had approached him with a thought last night that he didn't quite agree with, and it was still bothering him. The old man seemed to think that just because Rafe decided he didn't want to go stab-happy one time, he was planning on surviving and wouldn't try to kill them in their sleep. Somehow that meant that they should trust him a little more and stop locking him in his room at night.

Sam thought that was bullshit. Even if Rafe decided that he wasn't going to kill them- and that was a big if, there was still plenty of harm he could do in the house while everyone else was sleeping. He already shattered a plate, destroyed a pan, and made several messes on angry whims- not to mention the things he broke on accident- so what would stop Rafe from planning a surprise for them to wake up to next time they pissed him off?

Victor had simply said that they would deal with that if it came to it, but he still thought they should give Rafe a chance to prove himself. And, since Victor had the ultimate say, that was the end of that. The only thing Sam could do was start triple-locking his door at night.

The one useful thing Victor had to say was to expect Rafe to test his freedom the moment he realized he had it. He was probably going to find a small excuse to leave his room and see what they would do about it.

Sam didn't want to dwell on it since nothing would change it now, so he was going to distract himself by putting extra effort into the food he was making.

He had oatmeal bubbling on the stove, which he had sweetened a little with almond milk, and threw in some dried peaches and strawberries to soak up the flavor. He also had some of the flax seeds that all new healthy recipes liked to scatter on everything and some fresh fruit chopped up on the side to add right before eating. He didn't know how Rafe could say no to that, but he also knew Rafe would find a way if he was determined enough. So, he had backup food ready – there were some eggs boiling in a pot and the yogurt toppings were out and ready to go, even the honey.

He had just turned the burner for the oatmeal off when he heard Rafe's door open. He wasn't surprised, Rafe was usually the second one out, unless he was mad at Sam for something. Then he'd magically appear after Victor woke up. It was reliable enough that Sam could time his cooking to what mood he expected the brat to be in.

Sam poured a cup of coffee and set it down on the table. "Morning," he said, just as Rafe turned the corner.

Rafe only eyed him in response, which was also fairly typical. Sam wasn't high enough in the rankings for pleasantries unless Rafe was forcing himself to be polite. That didn't bother Sam much, though. He'd gotten used to it- and he was pretty sure it annoyed Rafe at least a little that he still insisted on greeting him every morning. Sam considered it payback for all the little things Rafe did to annoy him on a regular basis.

Rafe went to the table and reached for his coffee while glancing at the stove. "What are you making?"

"Oatmeal," Sam answered, "It's got fruit-"

"Too much sugar," Rafe immediately cut him off. "I'll pass."

Sam crossed his arms. He didn't think Rafe was interrupting him to piss him off again, but that didn't mean it wasn't at least a little effective. "I didn't add any sugar."

"Doesn't matter," Rafe shook his head. "Packaged oatmeal-"

"It's not packaged, I started from scratch."

This time it was Rafe's turn to pause. He looked back at the pot suspiciously. "It smells sweet," he insisted. "You put something in it."

"I did," Sam confirmed. "Like I was trying to tell you, I put in dried fruit. There's no sugar added in those, either."

"It's not from the fruit." Rafe eyed him. "Fruit smells like fruit, not sugar."

"It's the fruit and a little bit of almond milk," Sam answered.

Rafe rolled his eyes at that. "Almond milk is full of sugar. No thank you."

"I used your almond milk," Sam fought the urge to roll his own eyes. Rafe was grasping at straws to find something to protest. "The non-sweetened almond milk that you insisted we get. Seriously, you've been in the fridge before- that's the only almond milk in there!"

Rafe was quiet for a moment. When he couldn't think of anything to say, he pulled out a chair and sat down. "Fine."

"Alright." Sam went back to the stove and stirred the pot to make sure the heat would be evenly distributed. "If you want me to add anything else, now's the time to ask."

He felt eyes boring into the back of his skull. Rafe didn't trust him right now, he knew that, but he wasn't sure what all the fuss was- it had been a simple statement. Then again, he'd given up on trying to figure out how Rafe's mind worked by now. He just had to assume that everything would either be taken as an insult or as the dumbest statement ever muttered out loud.

Finally, he heard one word, spoken firmly. "Cinnamon."

Had Rafe just been trying to decide if Sam would insult him for wanting cinnamon…? This was why Sam had stopped trying to figure him out.

"Got it." Sam reached up to the cupboard above the stove to where he kept the spices stored. "You're, uh… You don't have any sudden plans for the day, do you?"

There was more silence behind him. Then, "Oh yeah, you know- busy schedule in the middle of the fucking ocean. I was thinking that maybe I'd go out and stare at a rock for a few hours. That'd be more intellectually stimulating than this conversation I'm having right now."

"Ok, I get it," Sam rolled his eyes and added the cinnamon to the pot. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to try vacuuming your room or something without asking how first." Somehow he knew the vacuum would catch fire, or the carpet in there would get destroyed. How? No idea, but it would happen.

"Why would I do that? I'm not a maid."

Sam glanced over his shoulder. "You washed your own clothes, you can clean your own room. Besides, if you don't vacuum in there often enough you're going to feel it every time you walk around."

Rafe scowled back at him. "Maybe in your room, but I don't have crumbs and ash just lying around."

"Maybe not, but you do live on a beach, and the only property that sand has is its ability to get everywhere." Sam scooped some of the oatmeal into a bowl and carried it to the table. "Taste it and let me know if it needs more of anything."

Rafe picked up a spoonful, then glared at him, and Sam took a step back. "I'm not trying to watch you eat," he promised. "Calm down." If Rafe was going to be like that, then he was going to go and get himself a second cup of coffee.

While his back was turned, Rafe apparently felt comfortable enough to try it. "It'll do," was all he said, which meant that he was pleased with it… probably.

Breakfast and lunch passed by without further incident, but after lunch just as Rafe was grabbing a book and going outside to get away for a bit, Sam stopped him.

"New chore, remember?" Sam asked as he pressed a broom into Rafe's hands.

Rafe looked down at it, then pushed it back at him. "Aren't you supposed to show me how?"

"It's sweeping," Sam said evenly. "You just have to drag the part with the bristles across the floor until you've covered the whole thing and all the dirt and trash is in a pile, then take the small plastic thing there and brush the dirt into it and dump it in the trash. It gets swept every day, so it's not too bad. It won't take you long to do."

"Sounds tedious," Rafe complained. "I'll do it later."

"Now's the best time- it's when this room has the least amount of traffic," Sam told him. "Unless you want to wait until later when I'm in here cleaning up after dinner and Victor's sitting at the table digesting-"

Rafe snatched the broom from him. If he hated anything, it was people watching him do menial tasks. "Fine, I'll do it, but if you have a problem with how I do it then you can go over it again yourself."

"Just try to actually do it right and I won't have a problem with it," Sam responded. "I'll be outside if you have questions."

Rafe waited for him to leave before he began sweeping the kitchen. Sure, he had never actually done it before, but this was something that was a lot more obvious than doing laundry and he was able to do it fairly quickly without an issue. In reality, there wasn't a whole lot on the floor to sweep up, but it was still disgusting to Rafe how much had accumulated in one day. Most of it was sand, and they were on a beach… But still, it seemed like a lot to him.

He actually tried to do a good job because he refused to let Sam gloat over it, and when Sam came back in and not-so-subtly inspected his work he didn't hear any complaints. Then again, he also grabbed his book and was out the door before Sam could say much.

That night Rafe sat up and listened carefully, waiting to see if his door would stay unlocked again. Sure enough, when Sam walked past for his end-of-night routine he left Rafe's door completely untouched.

Once could be an accident, but twice in a row was intentional. The only thing he had to figure out now was the motivation behind it. Either they lifted the restriction to lock him in at night and just planned to let him figure it out on his own, or he was right the first time and Sam was up to some shit.

There were ways that he could test that without getting himself in trouble. He waited an hour after Sam had gone to bed, then opened his door and went across the hall to use the bathroom. When he was done he made a point to take extra time washing his hands, and when he was back in his room he shut his door loudly enough that there could be no mistake that he was the one who was just out. Sully was a heavy sleeper, but he had to have heard him. If Sam was up to something then it was sure to end tomorrow.

He didn't hear anything about it the next day, not that he expected to. If it wasn't supposed to happen then they wouldn't let him know about it, and if it was then there would be nothing to say.

When his door remained unlocked for the third night in a row, he knew he had been granted free reign of the house at night. He wasn't quite sure what to do with that information, but there was one way he could take advantage of it immediately.

He'd always had sleeping problems, and so far in this house when it happened he'd just had to lie awake and endure it. Now, though, he potentially had access to one of the best remedies he'd found so far, and tonight he was going to see if he could get it… But only after everyone else had a chance to fall asleep first. Just because they were in their rooms did not mean they weren't awake.

When enough time had passed that they should have fallen asleep, he quietly opened his door and went out to the kitchen. He turned on a small light that was just above the stove- it was enough that he could see, but not so much that his eyes would burn out.

Now, to find what he needed…

Hopefully it wouldn't be in the pantry, because that was still locked. He knew it before he even checked the door- that would be too much freedom too soon. He began opening the cupboards and looking through them instead, hoping Sam had left it out for easy access.

He went through most of the cabinets with no success. After several minutes the only one left to look through was the one above the fridge. He had to drag a chair over to get a proper look in, but all he found was a bunch of cartons of cigarettes. Ah. That's where that stash was.

"What are you looking for?"

Rafe jumped slightly at the sudden voice and turned around. Samuel was standing in the entrance to the kitchen with his arms crossed. He didn't know how he didn't hear him coming.

Rafe stepped down from the chair so he could fully face Sam- and so he'd have better footing in case Sam was going to start something. "Tea. I didn't want to wake any of you, but I don't see it. Is it locked up?"

Sam eyed him for a moment. "What kind of tea?"

Rafe scowled. He just wanted a yes-or-no answer, not an interrogation. "Is it in the pantry or not?"

Sam only shrugged, "What kind of tea do you want?"

Was he trying to piss him off? Rafe looked at Samuel for a moment, then shook his head. It wasn't worth it "Never mind. I'm going back to bed." He went to step around the older man so he could go down the hallway.

Sam sighed heavily and grabbed Rafe's elbow as he passed. "Rafe-"

Rafe spun around to pull away so quickly that Sam raised his hands up, expecting to get hit. When nothing happened, he lowered them a little to see Rafe glaring at him like he'd just kicked a dog.

"- I'm not trying to be a dick. The location of the tea literally depends on what kind you want."

Rafe stared at him, turning this over in his mind. Finally he relented. "Chai, if we have any."

Sam nodded and dropped his guard. "Chai. Alright, I'll make you some. Just go relax on the couch for a few minutes." That seemed like an unusual request considering the contents of that kind of tea, but it was the kind of thing Rafe might think up just to explain why he was snooping around. Or it was something hot and soothing without caffeine in it and he was overthinking things.

"I can make it myself," Rafe told him. "Just get it for me."

"Sure you can," Sam nodded, "But we don't have any mix for it, so all the spices will be from scratch. It's up to you if you want to try it."

After a few seconds passed without a response, Sam gestured towards the couch. "Go on. You want it with real milk or almond milk?"

It still took Rafe a moment to answer, but he finally nodded and took a step back towards the living room. "Almond milk."

"Alright." Sam turned around to get a sauce pan out and set it on the oven. He mixed one part almond milk with one part water, then waited for it to start heating up before adding various spices to it.

After it was ready, he poured it out into a mug and carried it over to the couch, setting it down on the coffee table in front of Rafe.

"Careful, it's hot," he said, then went to sit in Victor's chair. "Sleeping problems?"

Rafe didn't respond. Instead, he picked up the mug and sniffed its contents, then took a careful, experimental sip. When it was deemed acceptable, he set it down again. "You can go."

Sam ignored that. "If you're having trouble sleeping, Rafe, I might have something to help. It's nothing to be embarrassed over."

"I said you can go now."

Sam sighed. "You know, I know you hate it here, but that doesn't mean you have to treat me like I'm plotting against you. I'm just trying to make it through the year too. I'm not the bad guy here."

At those words, Rafe felt a surge of red-hot anger flash up his spine. He grit his teeth and fought to get it under control, very conscious that Sully was still asleep and he didn't want that kind of attention right now.

"Are you trying to say that I'm the bad guy here?" he asked in a dangerously even tone.

Sam raised a brow, a little startled at the sudden change. Then shook his head- leave it to the brat to take that completely the wrong way. "No, Rafe, that's not what I-"

Rafe stood up so quickly that Sam flinched back in the chair from surprise. He kept his tone at just above a whisper, because if he went any louder than that he wouldn't be able to stop from shouting.

"I'm the one that got your worthless brother to snap out of his grief so he could escape that infernal place after you got yourself shot, and I'm the one who put up with him while he spent all his time moping," Rafe hissed, "Not to mention I'm also the one who found out you were still alive and got your miserable hide out of that place! If it wasn't for me, you never would have gotten to see the sun again- or see Nathan again!"

Rafe took a breath to calm himself down, then continued. "I gave you everything you wanted for two years while we worked together, then you decided to steal from me and disappear because you had some childhood fantasy of finding this treasure alone with your brother. If you had only asked, I could have been convinced to let Nate back onboard. I'm the one who tried to get the cross the legit way while you decided to steal it, getting your brother shot at in the process. You're the one who lied to him about why you needed the treasure and put his life at risk, just because you wanted to have an adventure with him. Sure, I might have shot at him once- but with all the danger you put him through, you might as well have been holding the gun yourself. Everyone who died or almost died on that whole thing was a direct result of you being selfish."

Rafe picked up his mug of tea. "Yet I'm the one who gets stuck here with my life on the line, getting treated like some little kid who doesn't know how to behave, and you're the one who gets to act like he's better than me. Fuck. You." He upturned the mug, spilling the contents all over the floor, then set it back on the coffee table.

Sam was too stunned to react, and by the time he had recovered Rafe had already gone back to his room.

A/N: I know it's been a while since I posted, but the good news is my living situation has changed a lot for the better. I can't make any promises, but hopefully I will be able to post chapters a little faster now. This chapter was a bit more set-up than it was story, but bear with me, the set up is important!

I also did a little bit of research and feel like I could comfortably stream UC4 if anyone is still interested in that- it still seems like a fun distraction for me. I set up an account on twitch – whitecrowstreaming – and I plan on doing the first stream on Sep. 12 at 2pm Eastern time if anyone wants to join. I also set up a twitter account – whitecrowcawing – just in case there are any problems where it gets delayed or canceled, that way I will have a place to post updates. There's nothing on any of them right now but I gave everything the same profile picture so they should be easy to recognize.

I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and stay safe and healthy!