He walked lazily, idly and slowly, down the frozen food aisle. A pizza might work, he thought to himself as he looked at the selection. Just something easy. Elena's stomach was finally holding food down. Correction: the baby was allowing Elena to eat again. The baby wasn't even born yet, in fact, she was still in her first trimester, and it was already a picky eater. Nate was surprised how it demanded spicy food. Elena already enjoyed spicy foods to some degree, maybe more than him, but at this point she was seeking spice out, desiring it madly. "Maybe I will just pick up some Chinese food from that Hong Kong Noodle place," Nate muttered to no one in particular. "She does like that super spicy chicken noodle stir-fry stuff…" He sighed heavily. He had no idea.

Nate was originally supposed to go to the store to pick up something for dinner. Looking in his basket, he only had a half gallon of milk, some Lucky Charms for him, cranberry juice per Elena's request, and some ice cream that he hoped to make as a peace offering for not bringing back the dinner she had envisioned. Elena was already becoming demanding and a bit emotional over certain items. She wouldn't come out and tell him that she wanted something, but it was apparent of his mistake when he returned. Even though his wife was stressing out and rather hostile at times, he still would rather be at her side. The time away from her was still aggravating. He just wanted to go home and comfort her. Nate, however, was so tired he did not feel like cooking or even eating. He had been up since early dawn, so sleep was far more a priority than food. He looked at his watch, "It's only 6:30," he whined. "Hong Kong Noodles it is."

He headed towards the checkout stands. He'd check out and call and order it ahead so that he'd have time with traffic to get to it and get it home. As he turned out of the aisle he noticed two men approach the group of people. He usually did take note of people around him. His days as a thief had trained him to be more observant. It didn't help that he and Elena also knew the dangers of the world, causing them to be hyper-vigilant at times. However, he didn't take too much note of the two men besides that they both had on dark blue hoodies, with one having his hood up and the other a red ball cap. He noticed the people in the line he was approaching also, but once again, didn't seem to take much care into his observations. Maybe he should have, for what happened next, happened in slow motion.

A loud bang interrupted the monotony of the grocery store's natural hum. A few screams followed quickly in succession, and Nate instinctively dove into a closed checkout lane for cover. A handgun, raised above the hand of the hooded man erupted another shot. "Get down!" He yelled. His voice was loud and demanding. It was deep, hoarse, and had a slight tang of a Texas accent.

There was no sign of struggle as everyone instantly complied. The man with the red cap pulled out a pillowcase and started robbing the customers, while the hooded robber went directly to the cashiers and began ordering them to comply and empty their registers. Normally, Nate had no issues complying. He found that showing how non-threatening you were increased the chances of elimination because of the lack of potential you showed. He even was willing, numerous times, to give up his own weapon, just to display a submission sign and encourage a non-violent way of addressing the issue. It once amused Elena because when he did have to fight, he was no slouch. He was very good at choking someone out, as well as in a fist fight. And as he watched the man in the ball cap yelling at the customers, it made him very angry. He wasn't necessarily angry because it had interrupted his day, or because he was getting robbed, but more to the fact that it was happening in general. He was well aware of how to disarm people and how to do stranglehold. He wasn't going to sit by and watch this deplorable act play out without intervention.

He waited till the man with the red cap had his back completely turned. He pointed his handgun in a young lady's face and was screaming madly at her. "You think this is a joke? I'm going to fucking kill you. Give me your God damn purse!"

Nate jumped into action. He leaped forward connecting with the robber, instantly grabbing around his neck with his arm. The robber yelped in surprise, alerting the other robber in the hood. He'd done this so many times it was muscle memory. However, the robber fought back violently. As Nate began to tighten his grip, the man simply raised his pistol to Nate's face. Nate instantly let his grip go as he dodged. The gun fired, and Nate felt the heat of the gun on his neck, and his ear screamed in pain. Nate, however, had to quickly readjust. The robber, in such a violent manner, turned and went on the offensive. In this action, they both fell to the ground and began wrestling desperately over the gun.

"Get off him!" The hooded man ordered. He fired his gun and Nate again felt the hot metal fly past him and into an aisle end. "I said get off!" Nate knew he was in a bad position. This was never the plan. He was just going to extinguish the man with the cap silently before disarming and eliminating the hooded hoodlum. So much for that. But he couldn't just stop fighting and although the shooter seemed to have the underhand, Nate couldn't seem to get the gun away. No one seemed to be willing to help him, and Nathan was very confused to why he could not grab this guy. Fear was starting to settle into Nate. He knew fear; however, it was never as deep. Even when he was gut shot, he didn't feel so hopeless. He still felt, to some degree, that he had control over himself. When his good friend Charlie suffocated his body from vital air, he was afraid, but not enough to panic. He'd experienced near death experiences. They were not new to him. But now, he had a sense of doom.

At some point in this fast-moving act of desperation, the robber was able to get his leg and shove it angrily into Nate's groin. Nate coughed and bent over. This was the moment when Nate's grip softened just enough that the robber was able to push Nate away. The gun was raised squarely to Nate's chest. The man's eyes were of panic and rage. He was scared. Nate rushed forward to disarm him, reaching out to grasp the weapon. He didn't hear a bang, but he felt a familiar, yet foreign, punch to his chest, knocking the wind out of him. As a reaction, Nate grabbed his chest and fell back.

"Shit!"

"Oh my God!"

"Jared! We got to go! Run!"

Nate felt his chest grow hot and damp. He looked down, revealing his hand to be red, for the second time in his life. "No," he choked. "No…"

The man quickly grabbed his cap, which had fallen off in the struggle, and glared at Nate as he rose and ran away. Nate returned his stare, but of one of shock and amazement. The lady next to him grabbed him, shaking him, and apparently yelling at him, but Nate could not hear her. He just leaned back, resting at a slant against the aisle end display, looking at his red hand.

"How?" He coughed, tasting blood. "Why…"

His breathing was labored, heavy and short. He knew his lungs were filling up with blood and he was drowning. His head was swarmed with thousands of thoughts. The first were of disbelief. You've got to be kidding me. How could this happen? He closed his eyes, focusing what energy he did have on staying alive, breathing slowly and staying calm.

Elena… Suddenly his death was very real. Elena…. He was going to leave his pregnant wife with the new company, all alone and helpless. Pregnant. His baby. His child! He felt a warm tear run down his cheek involuntarily. His child would never know his undying and forever love. That thought gripped his heart.

He coughed again, choking for breath. He's only sat there for a minute or two, three at the most, but time seemed to stop. He opened his eyes to see people talking and yelling, scrambling around in a panic. Help, the thought though he could not speak. Help me. The bargaining started. Just one more time, he begged. Let me touch Elena's face, kiss her one last time. Let me say goodbye. Did he even tell her how much he loved her before leaving? He couldn't remember.

There was no tunnel. His sight became darker; his eyes were growing heavier. There was not light. Doesn't that just figure, he figured. He was going to Hell. For all his crimes, he deserved it, he couldn't argue that conviction. He'd spend all eternity in Hell and he completely deserved it. And he'd be alone. All his life, he just wanted company. He didn't want to be alone. That was his deepest fear. His happiest moment was marrying Elena because he'd never be alone again. And here he was, at the gates of Hell, alone.

Nate choked out his last breaths, feeling his chest grow tight, his body cold. Nate couldn't fight it anymore. He had to give up. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry Sully. I'm so very sorry Elena. I tired. He closed his eyes and accepted his fate. Though all his adventures, his discoveries, his loves and his fights, he ended his life by trying to do what right. He hoped they'd remember him that way. With that, Nathan Drake felt his heart stop.

Nate sat up, grabbing his chest with his right hand. He gasped for air as if he'd been under water for too long. His whole body was sweaty and cold. He looked rapidly around him, looking for clues to why he was breathing and alive. He was in a soft bed, the lace curtains wafted with the cool breeze, red numbers illuminated the dark room from his alarm clock. The room was familiar, with a picture of him and his dearest Elena on the wall. Elena! He turned to see her sitting next to him, looking very concerned and worried.

"Are you okay, Nate?" He voice was like sweet syrup to his ears. She raised her hand to his arm. But he could not answer her. He swallowed and looked around a second time in disbelief. His chest hurt, he remembered feeling the bullet. He could feel the blood on his hands. He felt his own life drain from him. "Nathan?"

"Am I in heaven?" His mouth felt dry, and his hands shook with shock.

Elena looked around, still confused. "Not the last time I checked. Are you okay?"

Nate shook his head softly. His hair was a wild mess, his eyes dilated and his breathing rather erratic. "I don't know."

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Nate's body collapsed on itself. He lowered his head to his hands and he rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "It didn't feel like a dream."

Elena rubbed his back in support. "Do you want to talk about it?"

That was a great question. He was entirely too unsure if he even knew what he'd just experienced. How was he supposed to talk about it? He'd had bad dreams before. He'd woken up in cold sweats, confused and scared. But this was so much more. He actually died. He felt his world come to an end. He reasoned with it, begged for something else, and felt himself give up. He felt overwhelming emotions of fear and regret. "I don't know," he muttered.

"Do you remember it?"

Nate lifted his face and looked at Elena. Her brown eyes seemed to caress his soul, comforting it, and surrounding it in peace.

"I died." He whispered.

Elena pulled him into an embrace. "You're right here. You're okay."

"I felt the bullet. I felt the life from me drain. It was so real." His voice was shaky and he held back tears.

"You're okay," Elena whispered in support. Her fingers ran through his hair, her lips on his forehead, her breasts under his cheek.

Nathan lifted his head, looking again in her eyes. "I love you." He said firmly. "I hope you never forget, I love you."

Elena smiled with a nod. "I know you do. Relax, Nate. You're okay."

He leaned over, planting his lips upon her as he kissed her passionately. As he pulled away, Elena giggled. He let a tear fall down his cheek as his hand rested on Elena's stomach. He leaned down, pressing his lips to her navel. "And I love you," he whispered.

He didn't go back to sleep. He couldn't for a while. The memory, the feel, was all too real to just be washed away. He'd tell Elena more about it tomorrow. For now, he wrapped his wife in his arms, holding her tight against him as she fell back asleep. He listened to the breeze in the window, of the silence of the house, and of his own heartbeat. He was alive and he couldn't be more relieved.