"Sam, what are you planning?" Elena leaned against the door frame of the spare room. Sam sat on the unfolded futon with one leg tucked under him and the other stretched out. He had his laptop open, and various notebooks and loose papers strewn around him. His head snapped up at the sound of her voice.

"Nothing. Just...researching," he said, shaking his head and immediately directing his attention back to whatever was on his laptop screen.

"Researching what?" she pressed.

"Stuff," said Sam, clearly distracted.

"I see where he learned it." Elena 's voice was cold. She crossed her arms, refusing to take her eyes off of him.

"What?"

"Nate." Sam looked up again.

"What about Nathan," he asked hesitantly.

"Before you came back and he gave all this up, whenever he got obsessed with a new treasure hunt, I could never get through to him. It was all he could think about. He'd shut himself up for weeks and bury his nose in books and then leave without telling me for this exotic country, or that one. Usually with Sully in tow." For the first time in a couple weeks, she sounded amused. "The first time we worked together, he and Sully left me on a dock and took off looking for Drake's treasure. I can't believe I stuck with him after that." Her face briefly twisted into a wry grin.

"Yeah, well..." Sam wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. "Sorry I made him such a lousy husband. Now, can I help you? I'm busy."

"I'm just worried about you," she said. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you hated me." Elena's expression softened. In reality, it was hard not to feel sorry for the bedraggled man before her. His hair looked unkept and in want of a trim, and he badly needed to shave. His shirt draped like a tent on his slight frame and Elena noticed for the first time how much weight he appeared to have lost over the past several weeks.

"I-" Elena let out a sigh and looked at the ceiling for a moment, before locking eyes with him. "I don't hate you. You're family and I don't think I could live with myself if I shut you out after how much Nate cared and fought for you, and after everything we've been through."

"You have every reason to hate me," he said, a dark expression flashing across his face.

"Yeah," she replied. "And I thought I did, for a while. I wanted to. I needed someone to blame and you were the easiest person to take everything out on. But I've been watching you ever since you and Cassie came back and I'm worried. And...I see that you're grieving every bit as much as us and I don't want you to be alone."

"That's a nice sentiment," Sam said. "But I'm doing just fine."

"Yeah, that's clear." Elena huffed. "I came in to apologize and check on you, and if you don't wanna hear it, that's not my fault."

"You haven't apologized." Elena's face flickered with anger, but she took a deep breath.

"Fine. You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I yelled at you and blamed you for what- what happened to Nate, and I'm sorry that I didn't check on you sooner 'cause I didn't realize you were this far gone."

"That was rude."

"Do you want me to say worse? Stop shutting me out. And go talk to Cassie one of these days. I don't think you've said two words to her in the last week and you're not the only person in the universe." She turned to leave and paused. Over her shoulder, she added, "And call Charlie back. He's been bugging me for days."

Sam rolled his eyes and watched her leave. She doesn't understand, he told himself. None of them do. I have to do this first. Then again, maybe he should call Charlie back. He'd ignored several missed calls from Charlie after they had first spoken, and now he had a series of texts he had failed to reply to that read something like this:

Charlie Cutter

Give me a call when you can.

Charlie Cutter

I did what you wanted. Call me back.

Charlie Cutter

No way you've just forgotten about me at this point. Aren't you curious?

Charlie Cutter

Goddammit, Sam. Elena said you're still there. Call me.

Now, just as Sam picked up his phone, it dinged again. Sam froze. Up until this point, he didn't want to talk to Charlie because he knew what he'd say. Charlie thought that any sort of revenge was nothing more than a death wish. Now he stared, reading the single line of text over and over:

Charlie Cutter

I have an idea.

Sam's fingers flew, unlocking his phone and going to his recent calls. Without hesitation, he clicked Charlie's number and waited.

**********

"You're insane."

"Just, 'ear me out," Charlie insisted.

"No. No fucking way. Are you crazy?" Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even further.

"Possibly, bu' I coulda told you tha' years ago."

"I'm serious, Charlie. You know what he did," he said, his voice raising in pitch. "There's no coming back from that. I can't trust him an inch!"

"I think that's a good thing. I wouldn't trust 'im."

"But obviously you do," Sam shot back.

"I don't."

"That seems contradictory," Sam said. He began to pace up and down the length of his room.

"I don't trust 'im, but I think we can make it work. We need 'im."

"We don't. I've been working at this for weeks. Called a bunch of people in Europe I used to know. I've almost got a plan together." He winced to himself. That was a lie. He had called people, and he had been researching, that was all true, but there were no leads. Not even threads to pull.

"I know how much o' a risk he is, but Sam, if this is what you want, he's our only shot. I'm willin' to take full responsibility for 'im. I'm not asking you to trust 'im, just me."

"I think you're making a mistake. And I can't work with him. I won't. Need I remind you; he shot my brother? No. No. I won't do it." Sam shook his head and brushed a long strand of hair out of his eyes. "If I ever see him again, I'll kill him."

Charlie only replied with a deafening silence.

"No. There's another way," Sam said definitively. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

"Well, when you can't find one, let me know. We'll be waitin'."

"I don't need your help, and you can tell him that either way, he's a dead man. Pick a side, Charlie. You said it yourself, you're on my hit list. Don't make that true." Sam hanged up without waiting for Charlie's response. Whatever smart-ass retort the Brit had; he didn't want to hear it.

**********

Charlie sighed and tossed his phone down on his kitchen table.

"'E's even more impossible than the other Drake," he groaned.

"I told you he'd never go for it," Eli said, grimacing. "I get it, there's nothing I can do to make him trust me. That's warranted. But if he's so dead-set on killing Marlowe, I'm his guy." With his hands Eli motioned to himself.

"I'm not gonna argue, mate, but 'e's as eager to get 'is hands on you as 'e is Marlowe. Nothin' can change the fact tha' you pulled the trigger." Charlie sent him a pointed look.

"I know, but-"

"There's no buts," Charlie cut in. "It makes my blood boil to 'ave you in my flat, and the Drake brothers are some o' my oldest and closest friends, an' I want to keep alive the only one I 'ave left. And unfortunately, you're also the key to tha'. If you make it outta this alive, at the very least, I'm gonna see your arse thrown in prison." Elijah miraculously sat in silence for a long moment.

"Better than dead, I suppose," he said finally.

"If you say so," Charlie replied. "I'm sure Sam would love to tell you what th' inside of a prison is like and then maybe you'll reconsider that. But dead or prison, either way, he'll be happy to 'elp." He had to suppress a smile as Eli's face turned to a look of horror and the young man audibly gulped.

"If those are my two options," he said shakily, "I guess it's up to Sam. I just hope I can try to make up for what I did first." Charlie was surprised to find himself impressed by Eli's resolve, and he shrugged.

"Couldn't 'ave said it better meself."

**********

Sam stormed into the kitchen, catching the girls off-guard. He stomped to the fridge and ripped it open, grabbed the first beer he saw, and slammed it shut again.

"Who does he think he IS," Sam roared, cracking open the beer can more violently than was necessary. Elena stared at him with wide eyes, and Cassie paused the movie that played on her laptop and took off her headphones.

"What's going on?" Elena asked tentatively. Sam threw himself into a chair at the table.

"Charlie thinks that I don't know what I'm doing," he said. "And that if I want to kill Marlowe, that I need that weaselly little bastard's help."

"Who's?" Elena asked.

"Eli. ELI. That TRAITOR." Sam's voice rose again. "After what he's DONE, Charlie expects me to work with him?" He threw his hands up in the air, still holding the can, and ignored the drops that sloshed out. "He's crazy. He's actually lost it."

"Wait, Elijah? Him?" Cassie whispered. The color had drained from her face.

"The kid who came to the house?" Elena asked.

"Oh my God," Sam said. "Oh my God, I didn't tell you." Elena glanced between Sam and Cassie, shifting nervously.

"What don't I know?" she asked.

"Eli betrayed us. He was working for Marlowe the whole time. He gave them the information that got Sully and I attacked. He personally shot Nathan on Marlowe's order." The room fell silent as his words hit.

"Why did you keep that from me?" Elena asked after a few moments.

"I don't know. I guess I thought you knew. The point is, Charlie's crazy and because this kid knows so much about Marlowe, and apparently, he feels bad, the little snake, so he's agreed to help us. But I don't want it. I'll kill him before he has a chance to do anything, I swear to God."

"Get him to help and deal with him after." Sam and Elena both looked to Cassie sharply. She shrugged. "Just sayin'."

"I don't know if I can handle him that long," Sam muttered. "The problem is, I don't have anything right now. I haven't told Charlie that, but he's guessed as much. But I can't be in the same room as that kid." Elena's face was etched with concern.

"I wouldn't trust him if I were you," she said, "but this isn't my fight."

"I think it absolutely is," Cassie said to Elena callously, before looking back Sam. "And I think you should suck it up and get his help, and you can do it 'cause you'll know that in the end, he's yours." Elena gaped at Cassie in shock and Cassie glanced back at her.

"You'd feel the same way if you'd watched him do it," she added.

There were tears in Elena's eyes; it was hard for her to imagine what Cassie had witnessed. However, Sam remained stone-faced, pulling his shoulders back and straightening up in his seat. He raised his beer can to Cassie, then took a long swig from it.

"I guess this particular hit mission will be a two-parter," he declared, slamming the nearly empty can down on the table. "I have so much work to do."

**********