Nate picked up the Wes .44 and checked the cylinder for ammo. It was full. He tucked the weapon into his jeans at the small of his back. This'll put a smile on the old bastard's face, Nate smiled briefly. Sully still required a replacement for the one that he lost in Syria. He would need it before things were settled with Marlowe, one way or the other. If these assholes kill Sullivan, she is a dead woman. Nathan knew that this would violate one of the most important rules Sully had taught him, but this one time he just didn't care. Only kill when someone is trying to kill you, and you have no other options, kid. We may be thieves, but we're not the bad guys, Nate heard Sully saying in his heard. And killing for revenge? It's not worth it, trust me, son. I don't want you carrying around that kind of guilt. Nate didn't trust many people in this world, hell, I could count them on one hand. Sully and he had their fair share of ups and downs to be sure—I'm still pissed about what happened with Roman in the Amazon that time, but what can a guy do? At the end of the day Sullivan was the only family Nate had, and nothing would save anyone idiotic enough to try and take that away from him.

Nate abandoned this train of thought and focused on their current predicament. He quietly slipped into the water and made his way to the next target. Hang on Sully, I'm coming.

Sully and Nate stood, firing the last rounds of the day at their respective targets. This was their third session that week, and Nate had caught on quick. Once they had emptied their guns, Nate and Sully both flicked the safety and set down their pistols almost simultaneously. Sully then nodded, and the pair walked over to inspect his target. Nate's grouping was dead center and tight. He was still using the nearer of the two targets, but was doing a damn fine job. Just like I told him! He's got real talent, Sully thought. He felt an unmistakable surge of pride in the boy's skill.

"Not bad kid, not bad at all." Sully didn't want to praise Nate too much, he was cocky enough already.

Or at least he pretends to be. The kid's tough for sure, but he likes to put on an act, like he has to prove it to the world; Sully felt for the boy, but admired his determination to be independent. He's got trust issues—that's for damn sure. Aww hell, quit worrying like an old woman. He'll come 'round. Sully shook his head almost imperceptibly, as if trying to physically force that train of thought out of his mind. He was starting to get attached to the boy, and it worried him. Nathan was afraid of letting someone in and getting burned...but so was Sullivan. He shifted his focus once more to Nate.
"Next time we'll switch spots and you can have a go at the farther target." Nate finally stopped admiring his handiwork and started walking towards Sully's target.
"Might as well see what I'm up against." This was the first time Sullivan had practiced with Nate. The kid didn't need as much direction or supervision now, he was really just working on his aim and getting a feel for the different handguns. Sully was trying to entertain himself, and so set up his own target. Nate got within a few paces, and stopped dead. "Holy shit," he muttered under his breath. Sully had actually shot a smiley-face into the paper target, and the spread was so tight he could almost cover it with his outstretched hand. "Where did you learn to shoot like that?" The boy's obvious admiration gave him a small, yet unexpected rush of satisfaction.
"My father." Sully saw the look on Nate's face and immediately regretted his words. Parents! Sensitive goddamn subject remember? Sullivan kicked himself mentally. The admiration was gone and a vacant look replaced it. This kid's parents must really have screwed him over. Sully knew that Nate grew up in an orphanage, but the boy still hadn't told him why or how he ended up there. "It's not what you think. My dad was a proper bastard." Wait, why am I telling him this? Nate looked at him, the question in his eyes clearly saying he wanted more detail. "My father was in the Army and fought through half the major European battles in WW2. He had a rough time, even though the war ended in '45, he lived the rest of life like he was still fighting it." Sully paused, debating on whether to continue.
"So, he taught you to shoot, what was wrong with that?" Nate was puzzled.
"The lessons weren't optional, kid. He started teaching me when I was twelve years old and made me practice three times a week until I was sixteen. I hated it." Sully pulled out a cigar and lit it, taking a few puffs, before continuing. "And the only goddamn reason he stopped forcing me to practice was because by that age I was able to out-shoot him. He expected me to enlist in the army as soon as I was eighteen, just like he had."
"Did you join the Army?" Sully barked out a laugh. The kid certainly knew which questions to ask.
"Hell no! I joined the Navy just to stick it to him instead, he was madder 'n hell and we didn't speak for years after that. But I got to see some of the world, and that made it worth it." Sullivan hadn't talked about his father to anyone in quite a long time. Hell, not since I left the Navy. I gotta be careful; this kid has a way of getting under your skin.
"Is that what made you go into this business? " Nate kept them coming, but Sullivan was done playing twenty questions.
"That's a long story. How about we save it for another time, huh? Come on, let's pack up and get going." They began walking back towards the pair of tables.
"My father was a proper bastard, too." Nate whispered suddenly. Sully wasn't sure the kid was even talking to him, but this time he didn't ignore him. Instead he put his hand on the boy's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
"What do you say we go grab something to eat? Hell, I'll even buy you a beer and we can drink to our crappy Fathers!"
"You're really gonna buy me a beer?" Nate asked skeptically. Sully laughed.
"Naw, I'm just screwing with you, kid. I'll spring for the dinner though." Nate smiled.
"Thanks a lot, old man."

Nate snuck onto the next pirate-bearing platform and disposed of him in the same fashion as the first. Snap, splash, then move onto the next target. After the third corpse hit the water Nate stopped to check his watch. This is taking too long. He still had over ten guards and at least a hundred yards to go. Nate worried that if he used his gun to attack the guards openly, then the bastards would kill Sully immediately. If I keep going at this pace, he might be beyond help by the time I reach him. He considered his two brief encounters with Rameses, the leader of this pack of motherless scum. The man was naturally greedy, but he was also arrogant. He wouldn't expect one beaten and broken down prisoner to outgun and outsmart his entire band of pirates. He'll keep Sully alive until the last minute, hoping he'll crack. I just need to kill enough of them to create a diversion. Then it'll be sneak in, grab Sully, sneak out…Nate knew he was being optimist. Sneak in, sneak out? When the hell has that ever worked, kid? Nate could hear Sully saying. Oh, shut up. Since when did you become my own personal voice of reason? Now I know you're getting old! You used to be the reckless one.

Nate climbed to the upper deck of the boat and readied himself for the upcoming fight. After checking both guns for ammo again, he took several moments to place the guards—six were within easy shooting distance. They wouldn't be a problem. However, four more were within sight but outside of comfortable firing range, he would just be wasting the ammo. Nate would either have to change positions and quickly push forward, or pick up a weapon with more fire power. He'd figure it out as he went along. 'Cause, hey, I'm adaptable, right? Nate opted to start with the .44, it was usually a one-shot kill. He aimed for the chest of the guard nearest to him. You brought this down on yourselves, assholes, he smiled grimly. After a moment or two Nate took a deep breath, exhaled, and fired.

Alright housekeeping time!

First off thanks everyone for the lovely comments. It's really encouraging me to write more.

Next, I'm sorry for any jarring typos.

Thirdly, I reworked the last couple lines from chapter one and expanded them, thus creating the first paragraph of ch 2. Trying to keep the story flowing smoothly, which is hard with the multiple chapter thing. This is already twice the size I originally intended.

Next to last, I really love writing the flashback bits (can you tell I want more Sullivan and Drake back story? Damn you for the tease you are, Naughty Dog!) but I promise that the next chapter will really help to further the events in the present.

And now for the home stretch-mgowriter I think the Hammer will fit in the next chapter nicely (I had actually planned on including it from the start, such a fun weapon in the game). This story needs a good explosion or two anyway!

PS. thanks themiskyra for mentioning Rameses name, I completely forgot he had one!