The Uncharted Tales

Chapter 11

Part 1: From Small Beginnings

Victor Sullivan

"Goddammit!"

Most mornings, if Sully got up early enough, were peaceful, until Sam's clockwork swearing disturbed the blissful silence. He was on the mend, and Sully expected he would recover within the next few weeks, which wouldn't come fast enough.

It wasn't that Sam was particularly difficult to look after – he actually surprised Sully by hiding his pain, which he suspected was for Nate's sake – it was that they were all abruptly crammed into the same living space once again, and there was no ignoring the cramped environment. They were all itching to be on the move, but for now their best option was to stay in place until Sam was back to full health.

Nate let out a disgruntled groan as they heard Sam fumble in the bathroom, filling what would otherwise be comfortable silence with colorful commentary. "Does he ever shut up?" Nate grumbled.

"He's your brother," Sully replied as he served them. For as long as it had been since they all lived together, it was surprisingly easy to fall back into their old pattern.

"Lucky me."

Sully grinned. It was good to see frustration coming from Nate's end. He had his own fair share of moments where he was fed up with Sam's antics – he didn't know how the kid managed to go so long without snapping at his brother.

"Hey, Sully?"

"Hm?"

"Did you ever find a buyer?"

"I've got a couple people lined up. Just waitin' on hearing their best offer," Sully answered.

"... I haven't told Sam yet," Nate admitted quietly.

Sully sent a glance at the bathroom door. "We'll tell him when the time's right. He shouldn't be too upset about earnin' some cash." Particularly, Sully wanted to wait until Sam was less irritable. For as well as he was handling being hurt, neither him nor Nate could escape the occasional snide remark, and they had only gotten worse after Sam used up the last of Mallory's prescription and was now reduced to depending on name-brand painkillers.

Sometime later, Sam came out of the bathroom and flopped himself in the chair at the small dining table.

"Seriously, Sam?"

Sully cast a glance over and realized he was pulling out a cigarette.

"What?" Sam bit out as he placed it between his teeth and fumbled with his lighter with one hand.

"Can't you wait until after we've eaten? You're gonna stink up the whole room," Nate snapped back.

Sam shot him an annoyed glance. "How about you mind your own goddamn business?"

"I would, but it's not my fault-" Sully snatched the cigarette from Sam and leaned back in case he received any potential retaliation.

"What the hell was that for?" Sam growled.

"I'm tired of listenin' to you two argue over petty shit. You can get this back after we're done eating."

Sam glowered at both of them, but he complied anyway.

That was how most days went. They were starting to blend together, from Sam's recovery to his and Nate's clashes. Sully was beyond ready to shuffle them out of the overcrowded motel rooms, and finally get the space they all deserved.

That wasn't to say that they were constantly at each other's throats. After Sam took a heavy dose of pain medication, his aggression would ease, and it was one of the few times during the day when they could all rest easy, and gradually Sam's outbursts were beginning to dwindle as they neared the long-awaited day of finally ridding him of the sling. They would soon be able to move on, maybe start taking jobs together, if Sam didn't choose to fight him on that as well.