Tasha found herself thinking of Sam a lot after what happened in Panama. As hard as she tried, she couldn't keep the man from her thoughts. She wondered why things went the way they did — Nathan told her that Rafe killed the guard, if he hadn't then maybe...

No, she couldn't blame Rafe. It wasn't Rafe's fault. That's what she repeated to herself as she found herself trying to find someone to blame but ultimately blamed herself. Maybe there was something she could have done...

She let out a sigh as she looked out the balcony window, waiting impatiently for Rafe to return from his day of work. Nathan was on his way over, and she wasn't sure who would arrive first. Nathan had barely spoken since Sam died, and whenever Rafe wanted to speak of work, Nathan wouldn't really contribute.

She stepped down into the main hall, wrapping her robe tightly around herself as she slipped on a pair of shoes. She tried not to think of Sam, because it made her miserable to come to the harsh conclusion that her best friend was dead. She loved him, she couldn't say like a brother because that wasn't exactly right, but she did in a way love him. He was family to her in the darkest times of her life, and now he was gone.

She forced a smile as Nate walked in, an even expression on his face as he stepped into the mansion. "Hey Nate."

"Hey Tasha."

The two walked towards the living room, where they both sat on the couch together. There was silence as Tasha pulled out the old Avery journal, skimming through the pages as she hummed along to the radio.

"You look good... you're eating, right?"

Tasha laughed, shaking her head as she handed Nathan the journal. "You don't have to worry about me, Nate. Rafe has a cook who makes sure I eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner when he isn't around." She paused a moment as she took in his appearance. "Are you doing alright?"

"Yeah... but I don't know how much longer I can help with Avery's treasure."

"I know, Nate. I wouldn't be looking for it if Rafe wasn't insisting we find it."

"It seems like that's all he wants to talk about nowadays." Nathan replied.

"Yeah, well... he just wants to prove he can do his own thing — apart from his dads legacy."

"You know, there was a time that sitting on the side lines would be the furthest thing from your mind." Nathan sighed. "But that changed once you settled down with Mr Control Freak."

"Hey." Tasha glared at her friend. "He isn't controlling me!"

"Shit, I know, Tash. I'm sorry." Nathan rubbed her shoulder. "It's just rough being here."

"I know, Nate. Maybe we should go on an adventure sometime, yeah? Like the old days?" She smiled up at him.

"Yeah... yeah, I'd like that, princess." He ruffled her hair with a chuckle.

•••

Rafe could hear Tasha's soft voice, and he realized she wasn't alone. His chest tightened as he saw Nathan holding her close, his hands on her lower back, as she caressed his back in a soothing manner.

Rafe's eyes narrowed as he walked into the room, folding his arms over his chest as jealousy swelled there. He cleared his throat, indicating his arrival to the two. Tasha slowly pulled back from Nate, raising her eyebrows at Rafe as a smile graced her face.

"Hey, I've been waiting for you."

"Clearly." Rafe replied, strolling over to the bar to pour himself a glass of scotch.

"I should get going." Nathan said as he walked towards the front door, noticing the cold way Rafe would look at him.

"You sure?" Tasha asked worriedly. "You can stay—"

"No, no. I'll be fine, Tash." He chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. "I'll see you around."

•••

Rafe had tried acting civil towards Nate, knowing the affection Tasha held for the young man, but he grew to despise him. Nate was beginning to refuse to help find the treasure that his brother died for, and Rafe knew at that point in time Nate was only still in Scotland to be near Tasha during his troubled times.

"Nate, let me be blunt here — You may have known Tasha longer than I have, but I have her best interests at heart."

Nate scoffed, shaking his head. "You're right, I have known Tasha longer than you — so I know she deserves better than you. But all I want is for her to be happy."

Rafe folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, well, I make her happy."

"How long will that last?" Nate asked with another scoff. "You're a selfish prick, Rafe. Do you even care about her?"

"You want to leave, so leave." Rafe replied. "I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you, but for the record, yes, I do care about her. I fucking love her. Don't you ever fucking forget if.

"If you ever hurt her," Nate threatened with a glare.

"What would you do, Nate? Please, do tell." Rafe seethed.

"Look, I'm willing to put this shit aside for her sake. I just want Tasha to be happy, Rafe. She deserves that much."

"She'd be happier with you gone."

There was a slight pause. "You really think that, don't you?"

"You're just a walking reminder of her pain." Rafe replied with a shrug. "You're more broken than she is — she needs to focus on healing herself, not taking care of you, Nate."

Nate clenched his jaw. "Fuck it. Whatever. But if you hurt her in any way," He stepped towards Rafe threateningly. "I'll fucking kill you, Adler."

Rafe smirked in response. "Whatever you say, Drake."

•••

"You're leaving?"

Tasha frowned as she rubbed her forehead, Nate's quiet voice speaking from the other end of the telephone.

"Sorry, princess, it's just too much right now."

"No, no. I get it, Nate." Tasha sighed. "Where will you go?"

"I'm gonna go with Sully for a bit and see where the wind leads me... you know, you could always join me."

"Awe, Nate, you know I'd love to but..." She sighed as she fought the urge to say yes and leave with him. "I'm needed here. We both know Rafe would get nowhere without moi."

Nathan laughed. "You're not wrong. Be safe, alright? I'll phone you when I land."

"Hey Nate?" Tasha asked before he could hang up.

"Yeah, Tash?"

"Just... promise me you won't go awol on me? I just... keep in touch?"

"Don't worry, I couldn't imagine not talking to you after how long we've been together." Nathan sighed, sounding almost sad. "I'll talk to you later, Tasha."

And once again, she was alone.

•••

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