Sam's head shot up as light streamed into the dark room. He turned towards the light source to see Cassie poking through the half-opened door.

"Can I come in?" she asked in a small voice.

"Sure, but I'm being awfully boring right now," he said. She slipped in, laptop in hand, and closed the door behind her.

"You should turn on a light," she said, making her way to the other side of him and sitting down. She pressed her shoulder up against his. Sam pulled his arm out from between them, wrapped it around her, and lightly kissed the top of her head.

"It's easier to think in the dark," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"Just lonely," she said, laying her head on his shoulder.

"Hm. I can understand that."

"You shouldn't lock yourself up in here, then."

"You don't think so?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," Cassie said. "You live here, and I still hardly see you. Mom and I can't do this alone, you know. We need you. Even she's figuring that out." Sam laughed ruefully.

"That's funny. I don't want to be in the way."

"You're all we have left of him." Sam looked down at Cassie, but instead of making eye contact with him, she stared off somewhere else in the room.

"What?"

"Having you around is almost like having him." Sam's chest tightened.

"I don't want to replace your dad."

"I know. But you help more than you think you do." She snuggled closer to him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"You have got to stop apologizing." Now she tilted her head to look at him. "I was there. It wasn't your fault." Sam drew in a long breath.

"You're too generous," he sighed.

"No, you're too hard on yourself. It's not your fault. Dad loved you so much and no one could have stopped him from doing what he did, and Sam, they all knew we were there anyways." Sam had to concede.

"And hey," Cassie added with a sniffle, "Dad got to see Sully again."

Sam felt a lump rising in his throat and his eyes burned. He squeezed Cassie against him tighter.

"Yeah, yeah, he did, kid," Sam said, sighing. Cassie reached up and wiped her eyes with the end of her sleeve. They were quiet for a moment.

"What are you working on?" Cassie asked, forcing herself to sound brighter and changing the subject with very little subtlety. Sam glanced at his open laptop.

"Reading emails. Had some old buddies of mine sending me intel from Europe, but I got jack-shit from them so far."

"This Marlowe guy is pretty inconspicuous," she commented.

"Tell me about it. No one can track him. I don't know how he's doing it, other than knowing and paying the right people. I'm completely at a loss."

"No, you're not," she said pointedly. "I seem to recall you shouting at us like five hours ago 'cause Charlie had your answer."

"Touché. Charlie is the only person with a lead and it's only 'cause he has Eli. But I cannot bring myself to work with him. I know what I said earlier but I thought about it more and I don't think I could spend five minutes in the same room as him."

"I think you're going to have to if you want to see this through."

"And everyone seems to think that's a bad idea," Sam griped.

"Of course, it is," Cassie said. "You'll be lucky to get through it without going to prison or winding up like Dad. But I don't think we can stop you from trying, and if anyone can pull it off, it's you."

"You really think that? That I shouldn't do it?"

"I'm scared," she said, "and I'm not usually one to condone murder, but...I'm not gonna be the one to tell you no. And Charlie won't, either, in the end. We were both there. We get it. Like, I can see where you're coming from better than anyone. Mom will try to stop you, sure, but she doesn't understand."

"She's never understood why Nathan and I had to see things through like this," Sam said.

"She's, how you say, more practical than the rest of us," Cassie said, wrinkling her nose. Sam chuckled.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"It's not. And even she can see that there's stuff you can't walk away from. That's why she let us go to London in the first place. But this...you need to be careful, Sam. She's got a point. We're in so deep that there may only be one way this ends for you, but also, we're too deep to walk away. So, like I said, I won't be the one to tell you no. Just...watch your back."

"I'm gonna do my best," Sam said.

"And I think that means swallowing your pride and getting help from him and Charlie."

"I sure am running out of options." Sam rubbed his face. "Okay. Fine. I'm gonna call Charlie in the morning and see what the little punk has to say, and we're gonna hope I don't kill him the next time I see him."

"Sounds like a plan," Cassie replied. "Just keep that end goal in mind, you know? For Marlowe and for Eli."

"Yeah, that's the only way, isn't it...goddamn. I can do this." He straightened himself where he sat and exhaled slowly, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. He closed his laptop and blinked, glancing around the room. His eyes fell on Cassie's computer and he nodded towards it.

"Were you gonna watch something?"

"Yeah. Just while you worked."

"Great. I'm watching too. No more work tonight."

**********

Sam awoke the next morning to find himself splayed out on the futon, still in his clothes from the day before, and Cassie curled up next to him. Her laptop still sat open, but the screen had long since gone black. Sam could just see sunlight beginning to stream in through the blinds. He pushed himself up and stood up. Moving as quietly as he could to avoid waking Cassie up, slipped his phone into his pocket, and crept out of the room.

In the kitchen, he started up the coffee maker to brew enough for all three of them. The clock on the oven informed him that it was after seven, so he didn't expect to be the only one up for much longer. However, he decided to take advantage of the momentary privacy and called Charlie.

"So, you've changed yer mind, 'ave ya?" Charlie said without so much as a hello. Sam leaned back against the edge of the counter and rolled his eyes.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, man."

"Well, I didn't expect ya to call me up jus' to yell at me again, though I guess I wouldn't put it past ya."

"I could do that instead of what I was going to say," Sam threatened.

"Nah, mate, I'm tired o' hearing you bein' pissed a' me."

"Who says I'm not," he asked.

"Jus' you, apparently," Charlie said cheerfully. "So, wha' do you really want from me?"

"I think I want to kill Marlowe and all I have are dead ends."

"Well, you didn't 'ave to tell me that."

"Yeah, well, it's all dead ends except for Eli, according to you," he said, getting annoyed. "So, I wanna hear what he has to say. I'm not agreeing to anything yet. I just want to know why he's got more information than any other contacts I've got."

"Well, why don' you 'ear it straight from the 'orses mouth," Charlie said.

"No, wait, I want to talk to you," Sam protested, but Charlie was already gone.

"Hey, Sam." Sam froze. The last time he'd heard that voice, it was being whispered in his ear with a gun to his head.

"I- I can't. I can't do this," Sam said, choking on the words. "Put Charlie back on."

"Listen, just hear me out."

"You don't deserve that much." Sam shook his head, keeping his voice low.

"I know. Please. I want to kill Marlowe just as much as you do," Eli pleaded.

"That's not how it looked from where I was standing."

"Let me prove it to you. I won't double-cross you this time."

"That is the absolute bare minimum that you could possibly do," Sam growled.

"You're right. Okay. Yeah. I'm sorry. You're right. I can do more than that. I can contact Charles himself. I can get you locations. I can help build a plan. I have old friends that can help get you in and out of wherever it is."

"No. You get us intel, but we use my contacts if we need more people," Sam said.

"Fine. Yeah. No problem, I don't know why I suggested that." Sam heard clearly the desperation in Elijah's voice. "Okay, we use your people. But I bet I can get Marlowe wherever, whenever we want. I can get him alone so you can take the shot."

"That seems too good to be true. I don't like empty promises. There's no way he'd fall for that." Eli paused before replying tentatively,

"I can do it. I'd say I've more than proved myself to him." Anger boiled up in Sam.

"And yet, you haven't proved anything to me," he said, his voice icy. "Every time I close my eyes, I see Marlowe's truck slamming into Victor Sullivan and I. Or I see my brother dropping dead in front of me. I trusted you, and you have done nothing but betray me, over and over. Nothing you do can make up for any of that."

"I know what you think of me, Sam," Eli said, suddenly sounding weary. "And I also know that no matter what, I'm a dead man. If you don't kill me, Marlowe will. Just let me do one decent thing before I go." Sam pursed his lips and then nodded once to himself.

"Yeah, okay, I can live with that."

**********

Sam hadn't moved from where he stood when Elena wandered into the kitchen fifteen minutes later. She glanced at him as she went to the cabinet with the coffee mugs and picked one out.

"Want one?" Her voice shocked Sam back to reality. "Did I scare you?" she asked with a small smile. He shrugged.

"Yeah, I'll take a mug. Coffee's probably ready."

For the past several weeks, the atmosphere had been tense and emotions frail whenever Sam and Elena were in the same room. They tip-toed around each other, saying nothing more than they needed to and avoiding certain topics like the plague. Sam knew that he was on thin ice, to say the least, so he had been hyperaware about giving her space and time, and not pushing his luck. While she never tried to completely shut him out, Sam also didn't try to talk to her. He didn't know what could be said other than what he already had. He could only apologize to her so many times before it didn't feel genuine anymore. And besides, it was hard to help her when he had his own grief to work through; something he had so far avoided spectacularly.

This morning felt different already. Sam wondered how much courage Elena had had to muster to approach him the day before, but it was the best thing either of them had done for the entire three weeks since London. Sure, neither of them had been particularly friendly with the other on the previous day, but it felt like that had been more productive than if they had been kind and sensitive. Everything was out in the open now; they both knew that there were no lines to toe and they could be honest. Even in the last twenty-four hours, they existed around each other more naturally. They could both breathe freely, figuratively speaking, knowing exactly how the other person felt.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Elena came over and he side-stepped away from the coffee maker to give her room and took the mug she handed him.

"Well, I called Charlie back and I talked to the kid, Eli." Elena raised her eyebrows, but her face was serious.

"Oh, did you, now?"

"Don't act so surprised. I agreed to hear them out and get a plan together. That's all," he explained.

"Good."

"Good?" He looked at her questioningly.

"Yeah, I mean, this is what you want, right? So, yeah, good. It's progress." She avoided his gaze and focused on pouring creamer into her coffee.

"You're not going to try to stop me?"

"I couldn't if I tried," Elena replied. "And if I can't stop you, I'm glad you're being smart about it, at least." She turned to him now, and added dryly,

"'Smart' being relative, of course."

**********