Hello there! This is my first Uncharted fanfic, so I don't know how this would turn out. I absolutely adore Uncharted! I got Uncharted 3 last Thursday and completely fell in love with it. Especially Mr. Nate Drake... *face of guilt*
So anyways, I really hope you like this one. I usually write Phantom of the Opera(see my page) phanfics, so if I have any 'formal'(such as, "I am dearly quite sure of that." Nate replied) dialouge, please point it out!
Narrator's POV
"Whaddya say we try this again?" Victor Sullivan said, offering his hand to Nate.
"My friends call me Sully." He said in a calm manner. Nate reached forward. He hesitated, but took Sully's hand in his, shaking it lightly.
"Nathan Drake." He said before pausing. "Nate."
"Drake, huh?" Sully said, reclining back into his chair with a cigar between his fingers. "I see great things in our future, kid. Great things."
"Good." Nate replied promptly as he pulled his plate of food back towards him.
A Few Hours Later…
Sully looked at the old clock hanging on the wall of the small bar. 10:52.He said to himself. He turned to Nate.
"Hey, kid, we gotta go. It's almost closing time, and the boys get pretty feisty this time of night." He said standing up. Nate was busying himself by carving his name into a Styrofoam cup with a plastic fork.
"Yeah, ok." Nate said, standing up himself. "Where are we going, to be exact?"
"My apartment, well, one of them at least..." Sully said, his voice uncertain. He motioned for Nate to follow him as he made his way to the backroom. Nate followed silently, drawing furiously in his journal. Sully pushed him out of the backdoor. He bent down to whisper in Nate's ear.
"Now, we have to be quick and quiet, or else one of Marlowe's boys is going to…" His voice trailed off as a pair of headlight beamed into the alleyway.
"Come on, kid!" Sully said in desperation. Nate put his notebook in his shoulder bag and took off behind Sully.
The car slammed on the brakes. The black door opened. Marlowe stepped out.
"Stop!" She yelled, pulling a gun from the passenger seat. "Or I'll shoot you both!"
Sully stopped running, putting his arm out in front of Nate to stop him. He motioned for Nate to turn around. Sully sighed, turning around, hands in the air. Nate looked to him for a second, then putting his own up as well. Marlowe grinned, laying the gun on the hood of the car, walking towards them. Nate's muscles tightened and he began fidgeting as she came closer.
"Hello, Victor. I assure you have suspected that I would come to you sometime, now didn't you?" She said with a devilish grin.
"Marlowe…" Sully said roughly.
"Sullivan, I don't want to hear your petty excuses! Oh wait, this IS your excuse!" She roared, hitting Nate across the face with the back of her hand. Sully lunged forward as Nate hit the ground, holding his cheek.
"You little bitch!" He snarled at Marlowe, going for her throat. The car door slammed once again, and a taller man with dark hair held a gun up. He cocked his head to the side, like a curious dog, staring at Sully. He stepped closer, the smell of sewage water clung to his suit. The man pointed the gun at Nate's head.
"Victor, I know you don't want it to end like this, don't you?" The man said, smirking. "Step away from Marlowe." He growled. Panic was written all over Sully's face. His brow wrinkled as he obediently took a couple steps back towards Nate, hands up. Nate was collapsed onto a wooden crate, blood gushing from his nose. "Sully…" Nate whimpered. He wiped some of the blood onto his already dirty shirt. "Hold on, kid." Sully whispered. Marlowe smiled a humorless smile.
"Thank you, Talbot. Now Victor, you know what you've done, and you're paying the price now, with your job." She said.
"I could care less, Catherine." Sully shot back. His dark eyes were fixed on hers. Marlowe delicately wiped the tiniest bit of sweat from her forehead with a silky cloth. She took a deep sigh before returning the humorless smile again.
"So Victor, would you care to explain to me why you took this dirty little beggar in? And lost your job to him?" She asked. Sully rubbed his forehead.
"He can't just stay out here by himself. I…I'm not even sure how he did it.. I mean.." Sully said, stuttering. Marlowe's eyebrows turned up.
"Or are you just using him because of what he can do?" She said, turning away from Sully. Sully grunted, walked up to Marlowe, grabbing her by the shoulder and turning her around to face him. Talbot gripped his gun, just in case Sullivan tried anything. Nate coughed up some more blood, still hunched over the wooden crate.
"Listen here, Catherine. I'm just trying to give him guidance, maybe a friend, if he lets me." Sully replied harshly.
"Suit yourself, Victor. But just know that you're not welcome here anymore." She said, getting back in to the car. Talbot narrowed his eyes at Sully, lowering the gun and turning around to get into the car. Sully took the chance while he had it. He pulled a small gun from his pocket, raising it up, and shooting Talbot in the shoulder.
"Come on, Nate! Let's go!" Sully said, encouraging Nate to get up. He grabbed Nate by the arm, slinging it around his shoulder as he supported the fourteen year old boy, running away from the car. Marlowe let out an astonished scream. Talbot dropped to the ground, gripping his shoulder, moaning in pain.
Nate's POV
I could barely see. That lady has hit me quite hard. My skin stung at just the simplest touch. Blood ran down my face as Sully attempted to get me up.
"Nate, we have to go!" He shouted. I nodded my head in approval and began hurrying with him, straining my eyes to see where I was going. Since Sully was ahead of me, I followed the dull green blur of his button up shirt. As we turned a corner, gunshots rang out behind us. A bullet missed my leg by inches, hitting a dumpster instead. I stumbled on, frantic not to lose Sully. A flashing sign stood before us. I knew where we were.
"Sully, come this way, I know a place!" I yelled as I held my right eye, running down a street, pushing people aside. I could hear the heavy footsteps of Sully behind me.
"Míralo niño!" a man yelled in disgust as I attempted to shove past him. I saw an old blue shopping cart, my heart racing as the gun fires got closer.
"Perdón, Perdón…" I mumbled as I rushed past them. I rubbed his eyes, and they seemed a bit less blurry. I rushed past and old run down building, knocking over boxes and crates, shoving them into the road. Gasping for air, I turned back towards the building. My heart jumped as I saw the yellow pipe and immediately began climbing it, motioning for Sully to do the same. I jumped onto a ledge, then another, finally swinging onto a lamp post and into an open window. Sully came in quick behind me.
"I don't know how you did it, kid, but that was pretty-" I cut Sully's words off, holding my finger up to my lips as I silently walked to the open window. I pointed down towards the street, a good 30 feet down. Marlowe's men were running down the street, guns in hand, not caring if anyone saw them. Talbot was slowly coming up behind them. He looked at the scattered mess and nodded to the others to keep going down the road. When they were out of sight, I let out a huff of relief, and closed the window, locking it and pulling the curtains over it. Sully began to protest about the dark until I lit a few candles with a lighter I found yesterday. I didn't light them all, and kept them away from the window; for fear that they would come back and find us. Sully continued to stare at me.
"What?" I said with a bit of frustration in my voice. He just shook his head and sat down on the floor against the wall. His eyes darted from place to place, taking in the area of my living space. A makeshift cot was set in the corner, lots of different sized books scattered the floor, notebooks sat in a stack beside my cot, some open, some not. A small box full of dull and worn down pencils rested on top of them. But he wasn't just looking at my belongings. He was looking at the actual space we were in. We were in an old storage unit. I had found it when I first came to Cartagena two years ago, and had cleaned the place up a bit to make it in a suitable condition. Sure it didn't have air-conditioning, or heat. That's what blankets were for. I had made my living space on a big, high ledge. So if anyone attempted to come in from the big door, I would have time to figure something out. And it wasn't like they would instantly know to climb the pipes on the wall to get to the ledge.
"You've got yourself quite the place." Sully said. I nodded. "What's all of this?" He asked, motioning towards my clutter of books and notebooks. I walked over to them, picking up and armful of the mess and dumped them in front of Sully for him to look at.
"These are just some history books. I bought some; found some…stole a few…" I muttered. "And here are just some little notebooks with sketches and drawings. But here's the main notebook." I said, holding up a thick red book. Sully took it out of my hands, flipping through the pages of scribbled notes, sketches of historic artifacts, Sir Francis Drake himself. His eye brows raised as he stopped on a page. A drawing of Drake's ring beamed back at him.