Part one to a two part series.

So after playing Uncharted 4: A Thief's End, I had this idea running through my head. After all, there are a LOT of possibilities as to what happened between Nate and Sam's childhoods until they were at the prison fifteen years later. I'm sure they got caught up in quite a few situations.

This is my idea on one of those.

Disclaimer: I own this plot, but not Uncharted or any of the main characters. (Do we still have to put disclaimers? Ah, fuck it. I'd rather be safe than sorry.)

1

Sam tossed his backpack on a long twin bed that was situated against the far wall, opposite the opened wooden door. A thirteen-year-old Nathan stood in front of the door, his backpack still slung over his shoulder as he scanned the room, looking at the old furniture that decorated it. Two elongated twin beds took up the most space, with one against the wall near a small window and the other against the same wall as the door; an old wooden chest was at the wall towards the foot of the beds, only given enough space for it due to the angle of the roof; a dresser was next to it, its doors open to reveal nothing more than empty coat hangers. Underneath the window was another clothes chest, a brass keyhole in place on the front had Nathan wondering if it was indeed locked. The only table was a medium-sized one between the two beds, small lamps on each side and an electric alarm clock between them.

A tap on the window drew Nathan's attention, only to see the dark arm of a tree branch, cast in shadow by the night.

"You gonna come in or stand there all night?" Sam said as he looked over his shoulder as his little brother.

Nathan shook his head and walked in, tossing his backpack on the bed and walking to the window. He set his hand on the sill and peered out to a fenced in backyard. He could not see much due to the dark and the trees obstructing his view, but for a split second, he thought he saw the silhouette of a man below. It was gone when he blinked.

"How long do you think we'll be here?" he finally spoke.

Sam shrugged and moved around the bed, coming up next to Nathan. "Just for a little while. Until we can save up enough to keep going." Nathan nodded absentmindedly. "This guy's letting us crash here for free, so at least we don't have to shell out for a place in the meantime, right?" He patted Nathan on the shoulder before going back to the bed, pushing his bag onto the floor.

Nathan pursed his lips together as he heard Sam fall down on the bed. He turned to face him. "Why is he letting us stay here, anyway?"

"No clue." Sam reached over to open the bedside table drawer, blindingly sifting through it as he laid on his back. "Maybe he's just a nice guy." He took out a book, its cover blank, and began fanning through the pages.

"Yeah, right," Nathan muttered as he sat down on the chest beneath the window.

Sam sat up, tossing the book on the table as he looked at Nathan and his little brother's concerned expression. "All right. I know that face. What's going on in that head of yours?" Nathan avoided eye contact as he shrugged, receiving a sigh from Sam. He got up from the bed, walked back over to Nathan and sat next to him, trying to peer into his brother's face. "Nathan."

Blue eyes darted to the side to meet his own.

"Doesn't he seem kinda…weird to you, though?" Nathan asked, referring to the man whose home they were in. Sam's response was a curious expression. "I don't know." A hand was placed on his shoulder.

"We're not exactly used to people helping us out for the sake of being nice. I mean, he seems a little strange, but it's nothing to worry about. Now come on"—he patted Nathan's shoulder and stood up—"we've had a long ride. Let's get some sleep. It'll be nice to sleep in a bed this time." Nathan let out a small laugh, which made Sam smile.

Following his brother's lead, Nathan got up and walked over to the bed he would be sleeping in that night. He took his backpack and unzipped it, pulling out his sleep clothes.

Nathan groaned, turning away from the sunlight that shown through the trees into the window. He covered his head with the blankets in an attempt to block out the sun and go back to sleep, but after failing for several minutes, he pulled the covers down and opened his eyes, which landed on the clock on the table. Ten thirty-three was showing in red numbers. He sat up, stretching as he did and garnering several soft cracks in his back. Looking to the bed near the window, he saw it made and vacant with a piece of paper on the comforter. He tossed his covers off, his feet meeting the cold, wood floor as he walked over to the bed and picked the paper up.

In Sam's handwriting was a note:

Went downtown.

Be back by noon.

Make sure you eat.

Nathan rolled his eyes at the last bit and threw the paper down. Since they had left the orphanage, Sam was always on him about making sure he had food, even when Sam himself had nothing that day. There were times when Nathan felt more of a burden to his brother than an accomplice, but he still managed to pull his weight in both the physical aspects and the monetary ones, even if the latter was done in unorthodox ways.

As he changed out of his sleep clothes, which was nothing more than a large t-shirt his brother had given him, back into what he had worn the day prior, he thought he heard the floor outside of the door creek. He turned to see the door slightly ajar. The first thought through his head was that someone was watching him, but he scolded himself for being paranoid and reached the conclusion that Sam had probably not shut it all of the way when he had left that morning. He finished putting his shirt on, pulling the bottom of it down his stomach as he walked to the door. When he opened it, he peered out into the hallway – the empty hallway.

Again, he cursed at himself for thinking it was anything more than the house settling.

After he had his shoes on, he left the room, making sure to latch the door shut as he did. For a moment, he listened for another presence. The sound of silence with an occasional creak was all he heard.

He made his way slowly down the stairs at the end of the hall, trying to avoid making them creak. The bottom of the stairs dropped him off in the foyer, a few feet away from the front door. An open doorway to his right lead into the living room while the passage to his left opened to a hallway, which he could only assume was to the master bedroom. Not wanting to have an encounter with the owner of the house, he crossed the slate floor to the door; however, no sooner his hand gripped the handle, he heard a voice behind him.

"Nathan, right?"

Inwardly, Nathan cursed before dropping his hand and turning around the face the speaker, nodding his head.

The man, who had introduced himself to the brothers last night as Vasyl, stood in the doorway to the living room, a friendly smile on his face. Though Vasyl was not much taller than Sam, with his lean stature, he towered over Nathan, making him feel small and overshadowed. His face was creased with middle age, both his hair and facial scruff speckled with gray. The way he smiled put Nathan in a state of unease.

"Headed downtown?" Vasyl asked, stepping into the foyer.

Nathan nodded, his shoulders subconsciously going up. "Yeah. I'm meeting Sam." His lie was convincing enough, so he thought.

"I talked to him before he left this morning. Said he was going to pick up some odd jobs." Nathan found himself feeling somewhat aggravated at the knowledge he already knew; he could help Sam more if his brother would let him, instead of trying to do everything on his own. Sam had tried to explain to him several times that most people would not be willing to have a minor working for them without a permit, which, of course, he lacked.

And Sam wondered why his little brother had been picked up for lifting in the past. Granted, Sam had wound up in jail a few times, leaving Nathan to fend for himself for a day or two. It was those times that Nathan could not help but ask himself who Sam was kidding.

"Not going to lie: it was good timing for me to run into you two," Vasyl's speech penetrated his thoughts. "Places around here charge an arm and a leg just to stay a night. But I don't mind helping out two kids in trouble. Especially with someone your age. Lot of people would be willing to take advantage of an attractive young man such as yourself."

Nathan's brows furrowed, but he shrugged nonetheless. "Yeah. I know." He was hoping his dismissive tone would hide the apprehension flooding through him.

In response, Vasyl chuckled. "Come grab some food before you leave," he said, turning to go back into the leaving room.

"Thanks, but I'm not really hungry." He placed his hand back on the doorknob.

"No, no. I insist. You can't leave on an empty stomach." He began walking through the living room, Nathan craning his neck to watch him. "What kind of host would I be if I let that happen?"

Despite his mind telling him not to, he recalled what Sam had said to him last night. If his brother was willing to give the man a chance, then he could, too. Going against everything in his being, he released the handle and followed the man through the living room and into the kitchen. The smell of food filled his nostrils and his stomach released a low growl the closer he got. In the kitchen, Vasyl had a pan turned on with scrambled eggs and several slices of toast were on a plate on the bar-height wooden table.

"Go ahead and take a seat. Have some toast. I hope you like eggs. A young man your age needs to eat a lot of protein." Nathan found himself wanting the man to stop rambling as he took a seat in the stool at the long end of the table. His heart raced and he began rethinking staying, but the smell of food was making his stomach roll and he found himself reaching for a slice of the toast. He was on a second piece when Vasyl came over and set down a plate full of eggs in front of him, along with a fork. "Want some salt or pepper?"

Nathan shook his head as he stared down at the plate, the eggs already speckled with seasoning.

He picked up the fork and pushed them around, something in his brain telling him not to eat them. He could feel the man's eyes on him, and when Nathan's stomach released another low growl, he found himself taking a bite.

Something in them felt grainy.

He assumed it was whatever seasoning and swallowed them down.

After a few more bites, Vasyl sat down in the empty stool next to him. Having the man close to him, anxiety began rising in Nathan's chest and he subconsciously leaned away from him. Ignoring the boy's discomfort, Vasyl placed his hand on Nathan's knee; in an instant, Nathan's entire body tensed.

"You are a very lucky young man to have someone like your brother looking out for you." He squeezed his knee. "I'm sure he's sacrificed a lot for you, hasn't he?" Confusion washed over Nathan's face and he found his eyes darting to the man with the calm smile. "And I know you probably want to help him in some way, right?" He began running his hand up Nathan's leg to his thigh. "After all, it can't be easy having to jump from place-to-place, sleeping in the streets and whatnot. I certainly don't mind allowing you two to stay here until you build up some money, but it would be nice to be given a little something as an incentive." His hand traced from Nathan's upper thigh to between his legs.

The sound of the front door closing made the teen jump, but Vasyl sat calmly. He smiled at Nathan and took his hand back, but not before patting his leg. "Just keep this between us, okay?"

Vasyl leaned back before getting up from the stool, leaving a confused Nathan to stare at him, his expression filled with apprehension. The older man turned and began picking up the used dishes on the stove, acting as though nothing had happened as Sam walked through the kitchen doorway. He walked up behind Nathan and set his hands on his younger brother's shoulders. With the contact, Nathan found himself almost leaning into his brother, the one place he knew he was safe. Sam did not seem to notice as he looked around him at the plate sitting in front of him on the table.

"Looks like I didn't need to bring food, after all." He reached across Nathan to take some with his fingers.

"You two are guests here," Vasyl said, now at the sink, beginning to wash the pan. "I can't not feed my guests."

Sam nodded, appreciative. "Thanks, but we really don't want to cause you any trouble." He patted Nathan's shoulder, who took the incentive to stand up, making sure to stay close.

Vasyl turned to face them, his demeanor welcoming. "It's no trouble, really. I couldn't just leave two kids out in the streets. Would you like me to fix you something, too, Sam?"

Mentally, Nathan was hoping his brother would decline the offer – anything to get away from this man as quickly as possible. To his relief, Sam shook his head. "No, thanks. I grabbed a bite before I came back." He knocked his arm into Nathan. "Speaking of which, come on, Nathan. I found something you might like."

After a short goodbye, the two teenagers left the kitchen, Nathan making sure to stay as close to Sam as possible, feeling Vasyl's eyes on him as they exited. As they left through the front door, Nathan asked himself whether or not to tell Sam what had happened. Yet, what the older man said to him would not leave his mind: Sam had sacrificed a lot for him. Hell, his brother sacrificed almost everything for him. The least he could do was put up with Vasyl and the man's uncomfortable touches if it meant that Sam did not have to worry about where they would stay or whether or not they would even eat that day.

He owed so much to his big brother.

And if that meant making a sacrifice, then so be it.

"Here," Sam said, handing Nathan a helmet as they now stood by Sam's motorcycle.

Nathan stared at it, turning it around in his hands. He frowned. "Since when do I have to wear a helmet?"

"Since I got a ticket for you not having one, now come on." He got on the bike as Nathan groaned. He put it on, but fumbled with the straps under his chin, unable to buckle it. Sam laughed before helping him latch it. Nathan grumbled a thanks as he sat behind Sam, holding onto his brother's shoulders as the bike started up.

As Sam pulled out onto the road, Nathan found himself wrapped his arms around his brother's stomach and setting his head on his back. The thought of Vasyl made his stomach twist into a knot and the constant motion of the bike was not helping. He tried to focus on something else and wondered where they were headed, what Sam was so eager to show him. Maybe he had found a lead on the secrets of Sir Francis Drake and they would be on their way to the next town by nightfall – something to get them out of town and away from the man they were staying with.

The very thought made his stomach churn.

The eggs in his stomach suddenly felt heavy and nausea washed over him. He swallowed, his saliva becoming thick. His grip around his brother increased and the action had Sam slow down.

"You okay?" Sam called back to him.

Nathan nodded, but the wave refused to subside. He could feel the food wanting to come back up his throat, but by the time he realized he needed Sam to stop and pull over, it was too late. He had turned his head just in time, the eggs coming up as he vomited onto the side of the road. In a moment, Sam had stopped the bike and pulled off to the side of the street, all of his attention focused on his little brother.

He helped Nathan off of the bike, guiding him to a row of bushes along the sidewalk as more came up. As his brother coughed and spit, Sam was able to take the helmet off with one hand, tossing it to the side.

"I really don't feel well, Sam," Nathan groaned as Sam held him around the shoulders, guiding him to the ground.

"Guess the eggs were bad, huh?" Another groan left Nathan, though it was one of annoyance at Sam's lame attempt at humor. He began running his fingers through his brother's hair as another wave came up. "I'll take you tomorrow, okay?"

Nathan fell against him, his heart pounding as he tried to calm himself. He shut his eyes, attempting for force the nausea away as he monitored his own breaths, something he had picked up when he had food poisoning a year back when he and Sam had eaten what turned out to be spoiled meat from a gas station. At that time, both of them were miserable, but damn if Sam did not try his best to make Nathan a little less uncomfortable, despite also puking for nearly twelve hours.

Sam began rubbing his back, nodding to a couple that walked by them, disgust on their faces.

"Everything's fine! Thanks for asking!" he called after them before rolling his eyes. He turned his attention back to Nathan, who dry heaved before spitting up bile and toast. "Come on, little bro, let's get you rested." A noise of discontent was the answer he received.

Nathan would have rather stayed on the side of the road than go back to Vasyl's house, but he was in no mood to protest as Sam helped him to his feet. He was made to sit on the front of the seat while Sam retrieved the helmet. He put it on his little brother's head, but did not bother to buckle it. He got on, Nathan between his arms as he turned the bike around, heading back towards the house.

For this story, I've had to utilize tactics I haven't had to use since I was in college - and by that I mean finding information that isn't exactly the cleanest. And no ex-FBI professor to back me up..

Anywho...
Please let me know what you think! I'd appreciate the feedback!