The trip was meant to be memorable. Exploring the vast oceans and the blooming greenery of the Rook Islands with a group of friends seemed like a perfect way to spend some time away from the stress of everyday life. But what had started as a carefree adventure was quickly turning into something that quickly turned sinister. The territory was crawling with merciless pirates, all in the weathered pocket of Vaas Montenegro. His ruthless reign had left the islands scarred and the people fearful.

Grant is dead. And Jason, well... something had shifted in him. He wasn't quite right anymore. His eyes held a wild look, the kind you see in a cornered animal. The kind you don't want to see in your friend.

The youngest of the Brody clan, Riley, was struggling to cope with such a rapid change in his older brother. He was thankful that Jason had pulled him right out of Hoyt's clutches, but not before digging a thumb into the gaping bullet wound embedded into his shoulder. Riley thought he could take it, the pain, but he was wrong. He could still feel the warmth of the blood trickling down his arm, the overwhelming scent of copper ingrained in his mind, making him nauseous.

Dr. Earnhardt had cleaned the pierced flesh, although he was high off his ass. Hopefully, the elder had enough of a grip to tell his right from his left during the makeshift surgery. The pain was a constant reminder of the chaos they'd left behind. One that they still had yet to fully escape from. Just how had everything gone so damn wrong?

It was meant to be perfect. He would've become the best pilot to ever grace the skies, maybe even muster up the guts to buy a pretty golden ring and propose to the love of his life. But here he was, in a jungle, his shirt sticking to his back with the sweat of fear and the dirt under his nails that clung onto him like a second skin.

Rough, calloused hands trace the inside of your arm, ghosting over the flesh as the flicker of burning embers from the campfire dance across your skin. Riley isn't okay. Not in the slightest. No matter how many times he brushes off your concerns with a forced smile or a casual shrug, the tremor in his voice is a dead giveaway. The weight of the world presses down on his shoulders, and it's clear he's on the brink of snapping. The loss of Grant and the horrors they've endured have etched themselves into the lines of his face, making him seem so much older than his years.

"...I was going to propose, you know," Riley murmurs to the crackling fire, his eyes glazed over with a mix of pain and regret. "Had the whole thing planned out. The perfect spot, the perfect words." Some might believe that at twenty-one, he would be too young for such serious commitment, but looking into his eyes, you know that his heart had been set on this for a long time.