The Uncharted Tales

Chapter 13

Part 1: From Small Beginnings

Victor Sullivan

Although not all was forgiven between him and Sam, there was a new level of understanding on the older smuggler's part. Sam might argue with him over absolutely nothing, storm off in a rage, drag his brother through Hell and back, but he would be at their side when he was needed, though he was certain that level of loyalty was mostly for Nate's sake.

They were never able to come to an agreement on who was at fault for being imprisoned over the span of seven months, though they were able to laugh it off as a fluke. Sully was bound to slip up eventually, and Sam wasn't an experienced professional.

Even still, it was certainly Sam's fault, Sully couldn't be convinced otherwise.

Nate and Sam stayed with him after the funeral, even forgoing their usual antics of finding alternate activities in their spare time, and while he never explicitly told them as much, he was beyond grateful for their company.

As the winter season rolled closer, Nate insisted that they take part in the holiday spirit this year and celebrate Christmas at the Tampa rental. Sully never cared much for celebration – too many tainted memories – but it was damned near impossible to tell the kid no when he looked at him with those wide, begging eyes. Damnit. Nate knew he could play him like a fiddle.

"You added too much salt," Sam admonished after he dipped his finger in the bowl of cookie mix Nate was stirring.

"No, I didn't." Nate batted at his brother with the rubber spatula he was using.

"Oh yea?" Sam challenged. He grabbed a spoon from the drawer, dipped it in the mix, and held the silverware out to Nate. "Then how's it taste?"

Belligerently, Nate took it from him and popped it in his mouth. A look of disgust overtook his expression long before he could cover it up. "It's fine, Sam."

"Yea," Sam laughed, "sure looks like it."

"How 'bout you go put up decorations or something," Nate ground out as he shoved Sam away.

Sully watched all this from his perch on the couch. Reggie's death still clung to him even after three months, and if it weren't for the boys he would surely tumble back down the dark hole he almost lost himself in. It wasn't as though Sully hadn't dealt with death before, but never with someone he felt so strongly connected with. How did they do it?

Except, he knew the answer.

Nate may put on an air of bright-eyed innocence, but more often than not Sully saw that flickering shadow of the scared little runaway he met all those years ago hidden behind a grinning mask. On the other hand, where Nate displayed an incredible amount of care and kindness in the aftermath of their mother's passing, Sam carried a bitterness inside of him – it was impossible to avoid most days – and it seemed more often than not he resorted to lashing out. Nate simply lacked the hostility Sam possessed, instead becoming cagey about anything involving painful memories. His first instinct was to merely run, to skirt around anything that might hurt too much to drudge back up.

Sully, once again, found himself grateful for the boys, and their willingness to stay by his side, when they had all the reason in the world to turn tail and run.

Sully eventually stepped in to help with preparing dinner. That was certainly going to make it interesting of who would be responsible for the cleanup with them all pitching in. The dinner itself was simple enough – a roast beef with cooked vegetables on the side. He remembered long, aggravating days with family and the frustration that came with preparing Christmas meals as a kid, so Sully insisted on cooking up something that was far removed from those memories.