Tiny

Nathan Drake's unconcious form lay wrapped in bandages, a heavy blanket tossed over. Elena had positioned herself in a chair at his side. She was worried. He'd been unconcious for a day and a half so far, and showed no signs of waking. She was thankful that Tenzin had discovered Nate before the adventurer had bled out or frozen to death. What Elena hated was that he had gone after a woman who had clearly decided against him and his help. That had gotten him shot, not to mention nearly killed by the crash. But at the moment, she was more focussed on his well being than being angry with Chloe.
She picked up his hand and clasped it between her own two. She had forgotten how big his hands were compared to hers. His were calloused from his years of treasure hunting, while hers were considerably softer.

Schäfer approached, entering from another room. "How is he holding up, Elena?"

"The healer said he's getting better, but he still has a fever," she replied, keeping her eyes on the sleeping figure before her.

"Well, I hope he gets better soon. He's a lucky man to have someone like you to watch out for him," the older german spoke with a smile.

She quickly struggled to reply after hearing, or perhaps imagining a tone in his voice. "Wait, we're... We aren't togeth-"

Schäfer cut her off. "I never said you were."

She looked away and frowned. She and Nate had broken up only a month after getting together, and that was a year ago(She really had been waiting to use the "last year's model" line). She wasn't even sure why they had broken up at first. She had been hurt when his explanation was that he didn't want her injured when going along on his adventures. And then to find him out there with a woman at his side who was definately more than just his friend angered her more than she could say. All that anger had dissapated now though.

Schäfer patted her shoulder gently. "Please, bring him to me when he wakes." The old man gave her a soft smile before leaving the room again.

Hours later, approaching dusk, with no one around, Elena situated herself by Nate's bedside once again. She took his hand in her own again, squeezing gently in a sort of hopeful way. She looked down at his face and was glad to find it peaceful as he slept away his fever. What she didn't expect was his eyes to flicker open, and look at her. She could tell that he wasn't at all lucid by the clouded, unfocused look in his deep brown eyes.

He gave her a dopey smile. "Elena..." He murmured, voice sounding less than normal. "Hi."

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Hi, Nate. How're you feeling?"

"Kinda tired." His speech was slow and slurred as though he had been drinking. Perhaps it was something in the medicine the healer had used, or because of the fever.

He glanced down, noticing how she was holding his hand. His smile grew. "I like your hands, Elena... They're tiny. 'Cause you're tiny." He reminded her of a little boy she used to babysit by the way he was speaking, with little inhibition and no fear of consequences to what he said.

Nate held his hand up so his palm was pressed against hers and found each of his fingers were longer than hers by at least a half inch or more. "See? You're little..." He paused, meeting her eyes with his cloudy gaze. Elena smiled at the innocence in his words as he closed his hand over hers, threading his fingers between her 'tiny' ones with ease. He stared at their intertwined hands for a moment with the same dopey smile on his face.

"Your also kinda short, but that's also 'cause your tiny..." He trailed off, seemingly returning to sleep. "But it's okay that your tiny, 'cause that means I can love each piece of you even more..." This statement caused her to blush. Using the word love wasn't something he said often, not without a sarcastic tone or a part of a joke. Even in the state he was in, she doubting he'd say it in a joke at her expense. In his five-year-old tone of voice, he spoke warmly again. "You're really pretty, Elena..." His eyes slipped closed, smile still on his face. She smiled, pink still spread over her cheeks, and leaned foreward to place a kiss on his cheek. "See?" he mumbled. "Even your kisses are tiny sometimes... But I really like those..." He finally passed back into sleep, letting his dreams take over.

Elena, sitting back, wondered how much of this conversation he'd remember. Half of her wanted him to remember all of it, while half of her wanted him to forget the entire thing.

But three days later, when she saw him emerge from the hut, awake and lucid, she couldn't help but to rush to give him a hug.