mgowriter's note: This story sat about 60% finished in the archives for years. A big thanks to LittleSlytherin394 for inspiring me to finally complete it.
Chapter 1: Rage
Victor Sullivan stared at the metal railing in front of him with deep concentration. Its polished surface gleamed under the midday sun. He scrubbed at an imaginary smudge, revealing, to his surprise, a dark figure approaching from behind. The distorted image steadily enlarged as the figure edged closer.
Sully stood and dusted himself off. A man in a well-tailored suit approached from the dock. The stranger appeared to be somewhere in his fifties, with salt and pepper hair that mirrored Sully's own. He walked with an air of importance.
As he neared, the stranger stopped for a second and closed his eyes, as if to steady himself.
"A fine boat," he finally said, with the slight hint of a British accent. "Is it yours?"
"She's been good to me through the years," said Sully. "What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for Nathan Drake. Do you know where I can find him?"
Sully furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."
"Jonathan Raymond," said the man, extending his hand. "I'm an old acquaintance of Mr. Drake's."
Sully shook the man's hand and studied him for another second, before turning toward the front of the wheelhouse.
"Nate," he called aloud.
"I'm almost done. Give me another minute," came the reply.
"Someone here to see you," said Sully.
A moment later, Nate appeared with his sleeves rolled up and a rag in his hand.
"You're a real slave driver, you know that Sully? This obsession with polishing the railings isn't healthy."
. . .
Nate stopped dead in his tracks as he laid eyes on the stranger. His features changed from startled recognition to disbelief and anger in a split second as the rag fell from his hand.
Before the stranger could say anything, he narrowed his eyes and charged at the man.
His first punch caught the man square in the jaw, hard enough to send the stranger to his knees. He pulled the man up roughly to deliver another punch to the torso. The air was knocked out of the stranger's lungs as he staggered backwards.
Sully's hands were on him almost immediately, trying to pull him back. His words were lost in the rage that encompassed every cell in Nate's body. Nate rushed out of Sully's grasp and dealt a powerful shot to the side of the stranger's body, making the stranger crumple onto the ground.
"Nate!" Sully yelled behind him. He reached for the stranger again, but Sully inserted himself firmly between him and his target.
"What the hell's gotten into you?"
The man on the floor struggled to pull himself onto his knees.
Nate pressed forward, but Sully held his ground. After a momentary struggle, he turned his fury onto Sully, pushing with enough force to send the older man staggering back. He changed direction back to his target, but Sully's hand again held him back. This time, Sully leveraged himself against the nearby railing and drove Nate backwards until his back thudded against the glass of the wheelhouse.
"Goddammit Nate," Sully panted, his breathing shallow and fast. His forearm pressed into Nate's chest, pinning him against the glass. Both men knew Nate would ultimately win the struggle if it continued.
"C'mon, kid. At least let me think I can still pull you away from a fight."
Nate seethed with anger. He stared at the man who was now trying to stand up, and then back at Sully. He resisted again, but Sully held his ground. Slowly, he let his clenched fists lower to his side.
Sully relaxed his hold and took a step back, keeping an eye on both sides of the deck.
"Now," he said with forced calmness, "does someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?"
The stranger finally stood with the help of the railing. He coughed a few times to regain his breath.
"I'm afraid I haven't been entirely truthful with you," he said, as he stared at Nate. "I'm Nathan's father."