They had abandoned him.

It shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did, he supposed, everyone besides Jiji and Iruka wanted him dead anyway.

Why did he think his teammates would be any different?

So much for Kakashi-Sensei's motto of 'Those who abandon their friends being worse then scum' but then again;

They where never truly friends, just a group of children thrown together by an unholy twist of fate. It didn't help ease the sharp stab of betrayal though.

Why had he tried to help them? Why hadn't he just done the smart thing for once and run the other way for help- it was painfully obvious they where outclassed.

Why did the abandoned him?

Why hadn't anyone shown up to look for him or at least his body? He had been laying here, unable to so much as left a finger for almost a week after Sakura had grabbed Sasuke and rushed off without so much as a backwards glance.

Was he actually going to die here? Paralyzed on this godforsaken forest floor with more shattered bones then any living man should have the right to have?

Did he really mean so little that no one would ever come looking for him?

No. Iruka would come, Jiji too. If only to burry him properly- if there was a body left to bury after all.

He was going to die. Just the thought alone caused tears to swell in his sky blue eyes. He didn't want to die here, alone and forsaken, where any savage animal would tear him slowly devour him without so much as ensuring he was dead first. He didn't want to die even then, there was so much he had to do, so much he should have done.

He was sobbing now, biting his lip to keep as quite as possible, less any nearby predators heard him.

He shouldn't cry, he was a Shinobi, but he just couldn't stop.

He didn't want to die in this hellhole where the populations would likely celebrate his death.

"Isn't this interesting."

Wha-?

"Samuel, wake up."

Instantly, sky blue eyes shot open, as a scarred hand moved to its owner's side, straying near the handle of a knife he always slept with.

Wha? Where?

It took the boatman to realize he wasn't lying on a forest floor but rather in a bed, with a set of familiar faces looming over him in worry.

Emily, the young Empress. Corvo, the royal protector and close friend.

That's right, this was Dunwall, his home for the last fifty years of his life. Safe, secure, not dying- well, maybe age was getting to him but he wasn't dead yet- and for some reason at the palace when he had been at his huddle outside the Hounds Pit Pub when he last was awake...

Exactly what was going on?

Relief was on Emily's face as a friendly smile fount its way to Corvo's.

"Cecelia fount you in you huddle, you wouldn't wake no matter what she tired. She panicked and called us. You've been sleeping for a week, Samuel."

Apparently he had voiced his thoughts though that did explain a bit. Still didn't explain why he was sleeping so long but Corvo must of seen his confused as the other continued speaking in a soft tone.

"From what we understand, someone tried using magic to bring them too you but somehow you where able to resist and your body starting fighting against the magic as you sleep."

Someone tried Summoning him? Why in heavens name would anyone want to summon an old sailor like him?

Corvo was talking, likely trying to ensure him while promising safely, but Samuel wasn't listening anymore. His eyes where focused on the back of his gloved hands where he could feel a slight tingle of a pulse coming from. He had a feeling if he was to remove his gloves his mark would be pulsing like a star for all to see.

It would appear someone had Erland in a bad mood...again.

In the darkness of the void, a lone figured raved and ranted as he stared out of a dimensional window at a group of Shinobi surrounding a large circle of complicated Fūinjutsu meant to summon his eldest from him.

Did they really think it that easy? That he would just allow them to steal his favorite out from under his own nose?

In the words of an angry Sailor right before he knocked him overboard all those years ago, 'Like I hell would you fucking bastard'.

Samuel was his.

He had acquired the dying child- and the rather nice bonus of a demon fox raging in a despite attempt to keep them both alive in the child's mind- fair and square before giving him both his mark, a new name and a new life in a new world. He had taught the child to read, write, play instruments and carve. He had been the one to steal Justus from the other dimension and ensure they always fount their way into the child's hands with clear instructions he could understand. He had ensured the child always had shelter, education, food, and clothing.

He had watched the child turn into what the Heart called a 'Perfect person', keeping him alive when the fox couldn't. He had watched the child turn into a well figured teen and then a husband at only sixteen. And when his wife had died with his child in the messy affair, he had been the one there for blonde haired teen who was not quite a man then. He had been the one who made sure Samuel forgot and knew how much he loved him.

Samuel was his- and maybe Corvo's one day if the younger could ever convince the other to forget the age difference- the fruits of his hard work.

If they wanted his Boatman they would have to pry the other from his cold dead fingers.

"Achoo!"

Someone was talking about him.

Pocketing his handkerchief, Samuel couldn't help but wonder why everyone seemed so interested in an old boatman like him these days. He was quite certain there wasn't anything all that interesting about him, he was just a simple boatman trying to live a simple life.

His hair was still as snow white as it had been twenty years ago and his eyes still that same shade of sky blue that held a sharp edge of wisdom that one only gained from age.

Nothing unique there. He was just as plain and dull as the scarf wrapped around his neck.

There was absolutely nothing unique about him at all.

'Achoo!'

'Bless you Kurama.'