When I Walk, I Walk Alone (Sam Drake x Reader)

When I Walk, I Walk Alone

You stretched out your back, 'these damn stools need some back support or something—I am going to start aging if I stay in this chair any longer.' You chuckled quietly at your own thoughts, but refocused on the beer in front of you. You were currently at a local bar, taking a break from your current adventure with Sam.

This is currently your second mission with the brunette, and a very calm mission at that. You only had one threat but Sam told you not to worry about him. If all missions were like this, you would wish for more. Partially because the thrill, but mainly because of Sam. You couldn't lie, you did have some feelings for him; it seemed impossible not to. He had protected you in the past, just as you had protected him. Sam would share stupid jokes along every journey to whichever destination you were headed to, give you a compliment on the occasion; although you still can't tell if they were meant to be sarcastic or not.

Sam Drake was at the hotel, presumably working or doing whatever a Drake does in their free time. You weren't quite sure what he does to occupy the time when he wasn't on missions. You remember he would talk about when he was in jail for a bit that he would enjoy reading just to keep his mind running. He also would work out, that's probably why his muscles are so defined. What you would give just to see all of his muscles; what you would give just for him to like you.

Your eyes circled the rim of the browned glass, looking from the belly of the bottle and up the stem, catching the eyes of the bartender. "You alright kid?" you heard his crisp voice leak out. "I'm fine, just star-struck." He laughed, and brushed his imaginary hair off his shoulder, "I knew I was handsome, but damn, star-struck? That's a new one!"

You smirked, and then leaned into the table with the upper arm resting against the chilling wood, "Did I just win myself a round on the house?"

The bartender then popped the bottle cap off another bottle, "no, but you won yourself a drink with me." He began to undo his apron, as a person stepped behind the counter. You shot him a confused face, but he laughed in reply, "it's my break; nothin' special." "Oh," you sighed in relief. You weren't one for wanting attention, especially special attention from a stranger. He took the empty stool at the end cap of the counter and dropped it next to yours.

"Mind if I sit here?"

"It'd be a pleasure."

He then sat down, snagging the beer he opened. "So, what's your name?"

"Y/N, how about yours—"

"I knew you weren't from around here!" His finger pointed at you as his loud voice surrounded the room, "Why are you here? Visiting some family or something?" You furrowed your brows, annoyed that he didn't answer you. You then raised your guards, remembering you are here to stay on an adventure and not mingle. "It's a business trip."

He suddenly became more interested in you, "What do you do?" You took a sip of your beer and then scratched the back of your neck, looking away. "It's nothing to mention really—just a side job."

"Well damn, that's quite the part time job if they sent you all the way over here from the U.S."

"What?"

You sat there in confusion, wondering how he knew you were from the United States when you didn't tell him that. He then stood up, "or how they let you go diggin' in the mountains; now that's really something!"

Worry washed over your face, 'shit, shit, shit! Is this the enemy Sam was talking about?!' You then tried to keep your cool and took a sip of your beer, "I—I have no clue what you mean. You probably have the wrong person." He then pointed his beer at you, "Do I, Y/F/N? Do you really think—"

Suddenly the bar door swung open with force, slamming against the wall. "I knew I saw you dammit!" The voice had the slight New York accent, the roughness; it was no doubt Sam Drake. But, was it? Why was he even there? You never heard him so mad like this.

"And the man of the hour, Samuel Drake everyone!" The bartender cheered with a wicked smile drawn across his face. "So, Sam, what brings you here?" "You know exactly what I'm here for."

Suddenly he sat his beer down onto the counter and took you by the shoulders, spinning you around. "You hear that, Y/N? I think you buddy is here to pick you up." Your scared eyes hit Sam's like a deer in headlights. You swallowed down spit, gripping on to the seat of the stool. "Y/N?"

You bit your lip in fear of any words falling out. Sam's hand brushed down both ends of his jaw, covering his mouth. "You," his voice ached in pain, "you're working with him?" Your bottom lip then popped out from under your teeth in order to gasp. "Are you serious—"

The bartender furrowed his brows at you, "you didn't tell him we are working together? Huh, I thought I could trust you Y/N!" You looked at him as he was lying right through his teeth. The fact that the first thing Sam assumed was that you were betraying him stung you. "Sam you know that's not true, why would I even—"

"You know I thought I could trust you too, fuck Y/N, I thought—I am so stupid to believe you and I were—"

You stood up and rushed to grab his hand, "Sam hold on!" He began to ball up fists, clicking them together rapidly. "You should know by now, when I walk—", he then pushed you to the side running forward with his fist aimed to the bartender's left cheek, "I walk alone!"