(A/N: Well, I thought since I enjoyed writing about our friends so much I would step back in time to Drake's Fortune (which I like to say that Drake's fortune is that he hasn't gotten his ass killed yet). Funny enough, writing the characters before they were completely established but after I know how they're supposed to be is really, really hard. This is the first of this series that's focused entirely on Nate, and I have to admit I'm nervous – I've been the most afraid to put his motivations and feelings on the paper all along.
This was requested by and dedicated to my husband, who introduced me to the Uncharted series (and now can't get me to shut up about it). I love you, Buu ^^)
"Find anything, kid?"
He's almost forgotten that Sully's still waiting eagerly for news on the other end of the line. While Nate feels he has more of a personal stake in this job, Sully's just as anxious for a good outcome.
Whether or not the reason behind that is a good one, Nate has yet to determine.
He ignores Sully for the moment, taking the map over to the larger one on the wall as he mutters to himself. "UK2642," he hums as he looks the map over. He tucks it away after a moment, scanning the larger map for the coordinates he seeks. "U-K…U-K…" he repeats to himself, trying not to touch the wall as he looks. "UK2642…" Even as he finds it, he still doesn't touch it for fear of causing further deterioration to the old artifact. "Gotcha!" His grin cuts through the gloom of the U-Boat.
"Are you alright?" Sully's voice sounds a bit more concerned now and it occurs to Nate that maybe he shouldn't be an asshole even if he doesn't care for Sully's stake in this. The man's always been good to him, whether or not they're doing a job for the same reason, and he finally breaks his radio silence. He's chuckling to himself as he picks up the radio. "Sully, you're not gonna believe this," he says, unable to suppress the glee in his voice.
"Try me." To the older man's credit, there's not a lot that he's incredulous about – when it comes from Nate's mouth, he's usually inclined to believe it, even if it's sometimes followed up with a "what the hell are you thinking?"
"I think I found our missing page." His eyes are still scanning the map, mostly for visual stimulus.
"You're kidding." Well, to be fair, Nate was anticipating that reaction. The chances of finding the lost page of Sir Francis Drake's journal in a German U-Boat in the middle of the goddamned Amazon were pretty slim.
"It looks like Drake and our German pals were after the same treasure," Nate continues, gesticulating as he talks. It's a habit he's always had; the fact that Sully isn't actually there to witness it is a minor detail. "And I've got the map that's gonna lead us right to it." He turns away from the map now, still riding his high from the discovery. This changes everything about their investigation.
"Nate, this better not be another wild-goose chase." Sully sounds tired as he finally manages to get a word in edgewise. Nate glances away from the radio with a touch of annoyance; he knows that this one's real. He tries to ignore the tiny voice in the back of his mind that tells him all the rest have been, and that they wouldn't even be this far if the planets hadn't perfectly aligned. "We've got to get something out of this trip or – "
Nate's brow furrows in contemplation. What happened? "Or what?" he asks, a touch of concern creeping into his voice.
Nothing but radio silence answers him.
He walks out of the room, wondering if the metal walls of the U-Boat are interfering with their connection. "Sully…you there?" he questions, ignoring the thought that their connection had been crystal clear until just a moment ago. "Sullivan?" It's rare that he ever uses Sully's full last name, and it's typically reserved for serious moments. The fact that Sully's just vanished is certainly serious to him.
Nate's beginning to feel uneasy under the watch of the dead captain. Why the hell hasn't Sully picked up?
He glowers at the radio in his hand for a moment as if it's the source of all his problems before shoving it back into its holster. Well, he's not going to find any answers just standing around. He gives one last look to the badly-deteriorated captain before deciding it's time to head out.
He finds a small, round hatch not far from the room and grunts as he attempts to shoulder the hatch open. It's stuck and doesn't yield until he finally gives a mighty shove.
Unfortunately, that shove knocks the hatch into something previously unseen, which detaches from its spot and rolls across the floor.
Oh, crap. That's a torpedo. "Ooh, oh – don't – don't – " Nate feebly pleads with the damn thing as it settles in front of the hatch. He can hear the propeller on the back begin to rotate and Nate wonders, not for the first time today, how he's managed to avoid being killed in his thirty-some years on this planet.
He huffs out a breath as he watches the torpedo's tail spin. "That's probably bad," he muses as he glances around. He can't go back the way he came, but there has to be another exit somewhere. His gaze fixes on a long tube ending in a hole, likely where the torpedo was supposed to exit back when this ship was still functional.
He supposes it's too much to hope that the torpedo isn't still functional either.
Deciding not to leave that one to chance, he darts across the tiny room and manages to squeeze himself into the hole. Not sticking around for that, he grimly decides as the hole leads him into the water.
He's swimming with urgency, needing to know what has happened to Sully as much as he needs to get the hell away from that torpedo. Nate allows the slight water pressure to muddle his head, swimming underwater probably longer than is necessary before he finally surfaces.
When his arms finally find purchase on the shore and he pushes himself up, taking in deep breaths of air, he's greeted by the sight of an older man kneeling near him and a younger man pointing a gun at his head.
"Hello," the older man greets, holding his hand out as if this isn't the most ridiculous situation that they're all in.
Nate ignores his hand, spitting as he pushes himself up. His arm is grabbed by the younger man and he's hauled to his feet a little quicker than he would have liked. "Hey, hey – " he growls, throwing his hands up to dislodge the other man's grip. The instant he's on his feet, he's being relieved of his sidearm. "Friends of yours, Sully?" he asks, not bothering to hide the sarcasm dripping from his tone. His gaze finds his oldest friend behind their cluster, his hands at shoulder level in a gesture of surrender. They must have come up on Sully while he and Nate were conversing on the radio earlier. Nate feels his molars grind as he takes a deep breath, mentally taking everything in and letting his mind work on a potential escape.
"I'm Gabriel Roman," the unnamed older man before him says. His accent is a proper one, definitely form somewhere across the pond, and it immediately grates on Nate's nerves.
"Yeah, I know who you are, asshole," Nate immediately responds, actively breaking their eye contact. He's definitely heard the name but can't remember details about the man; however, Nate finds that he's not in the mood to listen to anything else he has to say.
Roman's voice is condescending as he speaks. "Manners, young man. This is just business," he says, as if that makes this entire circus act acceptable.
Nate rubs his hands over his face, trying to shake off some of the water, and is thus is unprepared when the younger, dark-haired man roughly grabs him. "Get over there," he orders, shoving Nate towards Sully and pitching the younger man off balance.
"Easy!" Nate snaps, and it idly occurs to him that perhaps he's being a little too flippant to someone who holds a gun on him. It's how he's always dealt with stressful situations, however, and sees no reason to change his ways because of this hulking jackass. Besides, with one hand on him, Nate knows that the other man can't accurately shoot at him for the moment.
"Put your hands up," the other man snarls, and with the gun back in both hands Nate knows his grace period has ended.
"All right, they're up," he concedes, raising his hands above his shoulders. It's unfortunately a gesture with which he's far too familiar; things don't always go his way during heists. He knows he's pissed the dark-haired man off as he's stepping closer with his gun pointed at Nate.
Roman continues, as if he hasn't just seen this exchange. "See, your friend owes me money, Mr. Drake," he says, having the gall to sound bored with the situation. "A lot of money." His tone shifts as he turns to regard Sully. "So when he told me that you two were onto something big – "
Oh, for Christ's sake. Nate turns an exasperated look to Sully. You told him?! Even held at gunpoint, the frustration is clear in his eyes, and Nate notices that Sully is pointedly not meeting his gaze.
" – 'the find of a lifetime,' he said," Roman prattles on, ignoring the silent conversation happening two feet from him. "Well, I was intrigued." A moment of silence passes through them as the menace behind that innocent word sinks in. "But he's made grand promises before. Haven't you, Victor?"
It nudges at the back of Nate's mind that it's always so bizarre to hear someone call Sully by his first name. He can count on one hand the number of times he's done it, and it's felt damn weird each time. Most times, when other people say it it's meant as a threat, and this time is no exception.
"And here we are again. Another fool's errand."
Most people have a part of their brains that warns them of imminent danger and startles them into silence and compliance when threatened. Nate feels that he never developed that part, because all he can think about is whether or not Roman has a point he's getting to.
"Sheesh, does he always go on like this?" slips out as Nate rolls his eyes to the sky. He's obviously touched a nerve as the man behind him responds by roughly jabbing his gun directly into Nate's right side, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to double over with a pained groan.
"Take it easy, Navarro," Roman says as if he's soothing a wild dog. He chuckles as Nate struggles to right himself. "So, I'm afraid the time is up," he declares as Nate finally gets to his feet. He allows the threat to hang in the air for a moment before he continues. "Unless of course you found something in there, Mr. Drake…" Roman gestures at the U-Boat behind them. "…that might compensate for all this unpleasantness?"
Nate focuses on each breath in and out as he grapples with what to do. Sully's voice breaks through his mind. "He's screwing with you, Nate," Sully says, his tone hard. "They heard everything. Just give 'em the map."
Nate looks at the older man, frustrated with how goddamned powerless they are right now. When Sully tells him to give up the map, he knows that there is no other way. Nate's brow furrows as he reaches for it. He ignores the taunting voice of Navarro, warning him to remove the map slowly.
Nate raises the map up, keeping his hands up and otherwise clear. Navarro approaches and, more roughly than he should, removes the map from Nate's hand. The brute shakes it open and regards it with a scrutinizing, curious stare. "What does a Kriegsmarine map have to do with El Dorado?" he asks, handing the map to Roman.
Roman examines the map himself as Sully gestures to the U-Boat in annoyance. "What, you think this is a coincidence?" Sully asks. "The Germans were after the same treasure – that map has something to do with it." He gestures at the map, though he keeps his hands up. Roman glances at him before returning his gaze to the map. "So, we square?" Sully finally asks, managing to keep an edge of irritation out of his voice.
"For now," Roman concedes, meeting the other man's gaze. He pulls his own sidearm and turns away from Sully. "But just in case you need a reminder…" He levels his gun with Nate's forehead, and Nate's arms instinctively come higher as if to remind Roman that he's unarmed and poses no threat.
"Hey, come on, leave him out of it," Sully immediately protests. He watches as Nate shifts backwards slightly. The kid knows better than to run; it would do no good and he'd be dead before he could so much as turn.
"Yeah, don't you guys usually just cut off a finger or something?" Nate feebly manages with a nervous chuckle in his tone and a glimmer of tension in his eyes. It's far from the first time that he's had a gun pointed at him, but he suspects that Roman has every intention of pulling the trigger. Hysterically he reasons that even if they just cut off his finger, he could at least still finish the job they came here to do.
Roman seems almost insulted by the suggestion. "That's far too vulgar," he says, narrowing his gaze at Nate. "No, I think this will hurt him a bit more."
Nate's stomach lurches as he turns this over. He's well aware of the fact that Sully taking him in was seen as a bit of a soft move for his line of work, but Nate hates to think of himself as Sully's weakness. He supposes there's a bit of truth to it, however; there's been a few occasions in which their antagonists have managed to get something out of Sully just by threatening Nate's life.
It's been some time since someone's tried to use him as leverage over Sully but it pisses him off just as much as it always has.
"Now whoa, whoa, whoa – " Sully cuts in, stepping closer to Nate's side. The younger man remains still, mind racing that he's going to get himself killed and willing Sully to just hold still for Christ's sake. "C'mon, Roman," Sully tries again, "he's got nothing to do with – "
Roman apparently decides that Sully is correct because his arm shifts slightly to the right and he fires, hitting Sully square in the chest.
"Sully!" Nate doesn't miss the hysterical edge to his own voice as he watches his oldest friend collapse to the ground with a dying groan. "Sully!" Rage overtakes each of his senses and he rushes at Roman before he is stopped by Navarro. Nate grips his gun, trying to rip it out of his hands so he can put a bullet in both of their heads. "You sonofabitch!" he snarls, all of his strength focused on divesting Navarro of his weapon. Time seems to slow as he struggles with the other dark-haired man.
His thoughts are scattered and wild and he's running entirely on bloodlust as he violently wrestles with Navarro. They killed Sully he's gone these sons of bitches are going to pay I'll kill them why wasn't it me he's gone he's gone he's –
He's nearly gotten the weapon away from Navarro when an explosion from somewhere behind them halts the action. The torpedo. Roman and Navarro turn away to watch the U-Boat burn before a second explosion sends them all reeling. They're all knocked into supine positions by the force of the second blast. Nate's face inelegantly meets the ground and he realizes that he's got to get the hell out of here while they're distracted. He pushes himself to his knees, ears ringing violently, and gets to his feet.
For a moment, his gaze lingers over the fallen body of his oldest friend. Anguish courses through him as he struggles with what to do. After all the older man has done for him, can he really just leave him behind? Clearly, Roman knows how to handle a weapon – is there any chance that Sully is still alive? The stillness of Sully's body tells Nate that the chances of this are slim.
Roman and Navarro do not allow him the luxury of time to decide; they're already making their way to their feet and Nate makes a final decision. What he's about to do kills him, but he knows that there's nothing he can do for Sully anymore.
He tries to repress the breaking of his heart as he turns and runs into the jungle.
(A/N: I can't help myself; it seems that I have to look at some of Sully's feelings when I write, too. He really can't be ignored.
Writing Nate's thoughts after seeing Sully shot were interesting. I drew a little on the influence of Uncharted 3, where the circumstances behind seeing Sully die were quite different. No matter what mental state he's currently in, seeing his oldest friend die apparently sends Nate off the deep end.)