Riona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rionaleonhart) wrote2021-11-21 01:18 pm
rionaleonhart) wrote2021-11-21 01:18 pm
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Fanfiction: Familiar and Strange, Part One (Uncharted 4)
Here's the first half of a fic that's dedicated to everyone who wanted more Elena in Uncharted 4!
Title: Familiar and Strange, Part One
Fandom: Uncharted 4
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nate/Elena, but it's largely gen
Wordcount: 4,700
Summary: What if Nate and Sam had told Elena the truth at the start of Uncharted 4?
The front door finally opens about an hour after dawn, and Elena heads through to greet Nate, leaving her coffee to brew. It’s not like she was freaking out – Nate’s had to pull all-nighters before, and he’s kind of terrible about remembering to use his phone – but she’s not really a fan of waking in the early hours to realise he’s still not home.
Hey, welcome back! What happened? It’s ready in her throat, and she’s weighing whether to add Maybe you could text next time?, and then she actually sees Nate and the words go out of her head. He looks nervous, and he’s not alone.
“Oh, hi,” Elena says, slightly disconcerted. She can’t remember Nate mentioning company; she’d definitely remember if he’d suggested bringing someone by this early in the morning. “Is this someone from work?”
“This is Sam,” Nate says. He hesitates. “He’s, uh, he’s my brother.”
Elena stares at Nate. Stares at the stranger. Runs the words through in her head a few times, waiting for them to mean something different.
“You don’t... have a brother,” she says at last.
“Elena—”
“You’re messing with me, right?” she asks.
The guy’s older than Nate, although he looks kind of worn in a way that makes it hard to judge his actual age. Not old enough for it to be impossible. But it’s still definitely impossible.
“Elena, I’m so sorry I didn’t mention him,” Nate says. “I thought he was dead.”
That isn’t making this any easier to process. They met each other how many years ago? They’ve been married for how long? Elena thought she knew Nate; he was carrying the loss of a sibling all this time, and he didn’t mention it to her once?
Nate has a brother?
“Uh,” Elena says. “You...” There are so many thoughts crashing through her head that it’s hard to pick out any individual one, put it into words. “You’d better come in, I guess.”
-
The story Nate tells her is long and tragic and absolutely ridiculous. From anyone else, she wouldn’t have believed it.
But she’s known Nate for a while, and ‘absolutely ridiculous’ comes with the territory. When he tells her an impossible story involving gunfire and lost treasure, she can be pretty sure it’s true.
Maybe not including the time he supposedly fell out of a cargo plane and survived. She’s still not sure about that one.
“And nobody else can help him out with this?” Elena asks, pacing the kitchen-diner.
“I offered to put him in touch with Charlie,” Nate says. “He, uh.” He glances over at Sam.
“It has to be Nate,” Sam says. “He’s the only person I can trust with this.”
“Charlie’s trustworthy,” Elena says. “He puts on a convincing thug act, but he’s loyal and he’s smart. I’m sure he could help you.”
“I got three months,” Sam says. “And it’s not like I’ve spent the last fifteen years making any friends I could trust with my life. No one else is gonna pull out the stops the way we need. Nate helps me, or Alcázar kills me. There’s only two ways this works out.”
Elena braces her hands on the back of a chair, thinking fast. If Nate goes back into that life, he might never come back out. Maybe he dies. Maybe he gets drawn back in, too deep to give it up again. Either way, she loses him.
But what choice do they have?
“It didn’t seem right not to tell you,” Nate says.
“Uh, obviously,” Elena says. “If your surprise brother had dragged you off without a word to me, I think I’d have killed you both myself.”
From the sound of It didn’t seem right not to tell you, they probably contemplated setting off without saying anything. She hates the thought of it.
“Anyway, this cross is up for auction in Italy in three days,” Nate says. “We need to be there if we want to have a chance of saving Sam. I’m—” He hesitates. “I’m sorry. I know I made a promise. But—”
“No, I get it,” Elena says. She grabs her laptop. “If your family’s in danger, we need to help.” That’s always been her policy; she’s always been prepared for the possibility that Sully might get into trouble and drag them out of retirement. She doesn’t have the connection with Sam that she does with Sully, but he’s important to Nate; she can’t just leave him to die. “I’ll book our tickets.”
“Wait,” Sam says. “Our tickets?”
Nate looks torn. “I’m not asking you to come. This is our mess; we’ll clean it up.”
“Yeah, you’ll be safer if you stay home,” Sam says.
Elena raises her eyebrows. “Well, if it’s dangerous I’m definitely coming. Who else will save Nate’s ass?”
“Uh, pretty sure I was saving his ass well before you first saw it,” Sam says. He looks over at Nate. “I thought we were just telling her.”
“She could help,” Nate says. “You both have a pretty good track record of ass-saving.”
“Could my husband and I have a moment alone, please?” Elena asks.
Sam shrugs, waves a hand in a dismissive gesture, walks out of the room. And then it’s just Elena and her husband, Nathan Drake, who apparently she might never have known at all.
Nate’s watching her like she’s a ticking bomb. It’s reassuring to know that she can still read his expressions, at least.
“This is a lot to take in,” Elena says at last.
“I know,” Nate says. “I’m sorry.” He hesitates. “You really don’t have to come.”
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“It’s not that,” Nate says. “It’d be good to have you there. I just... don’t want to ask you to put yourself in danger.”
“That’s an interesting way to phrase it,” Elena says. “You’re not saying don’t go, it’s dangerous.”
Nate shrugs. “I know you can handle yourself. I just don’t want to force you to deal with that.”
“Good thing it’s my decision, then,” Elena says. “I don’t want to sit here on my own, trying to process this, while you go out and get yourself shot at again.”
Nate winces. “I’m hoping there won’t be any shooting this time.”
“Plus I should probably get to know your brother,” Elena says. “I’m coming with you. It can be a kind of... family bonding activity.”
As family bonding activities go, it’s maybe a little weird. But it makes sense for their family, she guesses.
Nate looks at her for a long moment.
“I’m really glad you’re on board for this,” he says at last.
“On board may be overstating my enthusiasm,” Elena says. “But, if this is happening, I want to be there.”
“I’m glad you’ll be there, then,” Nate says. “It’ll be like old times. Hopefully not too like old times.”
He wants to kiss her; he’s not sure if he’s allowed. It’s easy to see in his face, in the way he’s holding himself.
She pretends not to notice. She’s not sure she’s ready for that right now.
-
Elena spends most of the auction hanging back with Sully. She’s surprised by how much it makes her itch, not having a more active role to play. Maybe she hasn’t left this life behind as completely as she thought.
She’s always hated infiltrating black tie events. If you’re a man, you’re just another suit in a sea of suits; it’s easy enough to move unnoticed. Hard not to draw the eye as a woman, no matter what you wear. Which means she has to stay on the sidelines, and Nate goes into danger alone.
Well. Not technically alone.
“So,” Elena says. “Nate has a brother, huh?”
“Yeah,” Sully says. He takes a drag on his cigar. “Never got on with the guy, but it’s good to see he’s still alive.”
Elena looks over at him. “I take it you knew?”
Sully winces. “Sorry. Didn’t seem like my story to tell.”
It was one of the first questions that came to mind when she met Sam, while she was still reeling: did Sully know? Maybe it was a strange first thought, but she’s not sure what an appropriate one would have been. The whole situation is far beyond anything she has a mental template for.
She considers whether she’ll need to add Sully to the list of people she’s pissed off with. She’s pissed off with Nate for never telling her. She’s pissed off with Sam for existing, for barging into their life out of nowhere, even though she knows that’s unfair.
She guesses she can let Sully off the hook. If she’d learnt it from him, second-hand, it would have been worse.
Elena takes a sip of water, scans the auction floor. She’s kind of wishing she’d taken the offered champagne, but this is serious; she needs to keep a clear head.
She’s not the only woman in trousers here, at least. There’s one other she can see. Not enough to let Elena sneak around unnoticed, but enough to at least help her feel less selfconscious.
The other woman in trousers is crossing the floor purposefully towards them, actually. Elena goes on guard. Has someone noticed that she’s here without an invitation?
“Nadine,” Sully says, smiling, and Elena relaxes just a little. Just an acquaintance coming to greet him, hopefully. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“Victor,” the woman says. “Still pursuing younger women?”
“I’ll pursue whoever’ll have me,” Sully says. “Elena here’s got too much taste for that, though.”
Debateable. She did marry Nate.
“Nadine Ross,” Nadine says, holding out her hand to Elena.
“Elena Fisher,” Elena says, shaking it. “How do you two know each other?”
An old girlfriend, maybe? If she is, Sully’s done extremely well.
“Ah, it’s a long story,” Sully says. “Involves an ancient goblet and Nadine’s private army. I don’t want to reopen old wounds.”
Private army is a phrase that puts Elena on edge.
“No wounds to be opened,” Nadine says, with an unamused smile. “It wasn’t personal. How about you?”
“Kind of a long story on this end, too,” Elena says.
“Not surprised,” Nadine says. “Victor has a lot of long stories. I was on my way to the bar; can I get either of you something?”
-
They tear out of the estate’s grounds with bullets pinging off the wheel rims. Elena saw this coming a mile away.
She wishes she hadn’t been right. She wishes Nate could be satisfied with this much; if they keep going any further, she has a feeling they’ll be meeting Nadine’s army before long.
She wishes she could be satisfied with this much. The hunt, the adrenaline: the truth is that it’s awakened something in her. They’ve taken the first step towards Avery’s treasure. They can’t stop now.
Sam’s still in danger. It means there’s a reason to keep pursuing this, and she hates that a part of herself is glad to have the excuse.
She glances at the back seat, where Sam and Nate are catching their breath.
Who is Sam Drake, beyond the reason they’re doing this? She hasn’t had much of an opportunity to talk to him. It’s hard to know what to say to the brother-in-law who stepped into her life out of thin air.
She could ask Nate what he used to be like. She’s not sure how much that would tell her about the Sam who exists now, though.
It must have done something to him, fifteen years in prison. She’s reported on prisons before; she knows you don’t come out of that unscarred.
She wonders what she’s not seeing, what changes she’s missing because she didn’t know Sam before it happened. Whether the brother Nate got back matches up with the brother he lost.
-
The scenery in Scotland is certainly beautiful, if bleak. It’d be nice if they had less time to admire it, though; it’s costing Elena all the feeling in her fingers. Sully might have had the right idea by staying on standby for this one.
“Rafe’s really going all in, isn’t he?” Sam asks.
She doesn’t think it’s conscious, but Sam always seems to be addressing Nate specifically, as if Elena weren’t here. Maybe he hasn’t entirely accepted her presence in Nate’s life yet; she’s a stranger who stepped in while he was gone.
To be fair, she hasn’t entirely accepted Sam’s presence either.
She can hear Nate in Sam’s voice; she can see Nate in his face, sometimes, in the right light. But it’s still hard for her to believe that Nate has a sibling. Another Drake here in front of her, living and breathing, flesh and blood.
Although Nate wasn’t always a Drake, was he?
“Is your surname Drake?” Elena asks.
“What else would it be?” Sam asks, glancing over at her. “Not like I’d be taking my wife’s name. Not like I’ve got a wife in the first place.”
Elena looks at Nate, catches his eye, with a small smile. They actually did discuss Nate taking her name. Not when they first got married, but a couple of years later, when he admitted he hadn’t been born a Drake. He’d been weighing up which name felt more real to him, Drake or Fisher; concluded in the end that Drake meant too much to him to let it go.
She hadn’t been offended. She’d been touched that he’d considered her name at all. She certainly never considered taking his.
“I don’t know,” Elena says. “Nate mentioned it wasn’t always your surname. Well, he mentioned it wasn’t always his surname; I didn’t know if the same applied to you.”
Sam turns to look at her fully, his expression hard to read: a hint of a frown, maybe. After a moment, he looks at Nate. “You really told her everything, huh?”
“I didn’t know I had a brother-in-law,” Elena points out. “I would strongly argue that my husband didn’t tell me everything.”
Sam shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, he never told me he had a wife.”
“In my defence, you were dead,” Nate protests.
“And what’s your excuse for me?” Elena asks.
Nate coughs. “Let’s just find this grave, huh?”
-
They find a narrow rope bridge, and, as the lightest of their party, Elena crosses it first, slightly nervously. They’ve never had much luck with bridges. But it holds.
It holds until Sam tries to cross it, at least.
“Shit!” Sam hauls himself up the dangling slats, collapses onto the grass next to Elena, gasping for breath. “Shit!”
“Kind of nice to see it happen to someone else for once,” Nate calls across from the other side.
“Yeah, screw you,” Sam calls back.
Elena bites her lip. The alarm is subsiding, being replaced by the slow realisation that the collapse of the bridge has left Nate behind, and now she’s alone with Sam.
“Okay, you guys keep heading for the graveyard,” Nate calls. “I’ll find another way across.”
This is going to be awkward.
-
The two of them are pretty quiet as they keep going alone. It’s tempting to blame Sam for that, but Elena has to admit that she’s not exactly initiating much conversation herself.
What is she supposed to say? This guy is a vast black hole in her knowledge of her husband’s life. She doesn’t know where to begin asking questions.
And then they run into Shoreline.
They try to sneak past. Almost manage it. Elena’s just thinking they might get away with this when someone opens fire behind them, and she’s jolted into a run before she’s even consciously registered the sound.
Sam yells behind her, fuck, is he hit—
Just keep running. They can assess the situation when they’re safe.
Fuck. She hopes he’s okay. She really doesn’t want to have to tell Nate his brother got killed four days after their reunion.
She goes skidding down a steep slope, slate and gravel giving way underneath her, and she dodges behind some rocks at the bottom and crouches there, heart hammering. Hopefully she’s got enough distance; hopefully they won’t bother coming after her.
Someone’s come after her. She can hear quick unsteady footsteps, gravel beginning to trickle down as someone tries to edge down the slope. She holds her breath.
And then her pursuer loses their footing, and she’s able to relax a little when she hears their startled yelp. That’s definitely Sam.
“Did anyone follow you?” she calls from her hiding place, when it sounds like Sam’s picking himself up.
“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Jesus. Don’t just voice-of-God me like that.” He appears around the rocks. “Hi?”
“Hi,” Elena says. “Did anyone follow you?”
“Uh, don’t think so.” He pauses for a moment, listening. “Yeah, I think they pretty much stick around the zones they’re assigned to.”
“Well, that’s good,” Elena says. She hesitates, her gaze dropping; Sam’s clutching his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I think, uh.” He’s still breathing fast; it looks like a struggle to get the words out. “I think I got shot? Like, not very shot. Kind of shot?”
“Let me take a look,” Elena says.
-
She sits him down on one of the rocks, asks him to take off his jacket and anything with sleeves underneath it. He grumbles about how cold it is, but he does it.
‘Kind of shot’ is right. A bullet’s clipped his arm. Not anything life-threatening, but Sam’s probably not enjoying it, and it’ll need treatment if they don’t want it getting infected.
Elena pulls the first-aid kit out of her bag, and she’s cleaned and bandaged Sam’s arm before it occurs to her to wonder when she became so practised at treating bullet wounds.
Sam’s quiet the whole time. She looks up to find him watching her, frowning a little.
“Thanks,” he says, after a moment. He bends and straightens his arm, experimentally, then grabs his clothes and starts pulling them back on. “Guess it’s a good thing you were here.”
It feels like an opportunity to get to know him better. She’s been getting the impression he’s not exactly thrilled to have her along; it’s an atmosphere that makes it hard to make conversation. If he’s thanking her now, he might be willing to open up a little.
Maybe it’d be easier to start with safe subjects, rather than tackling that particular sore spot head-on. But she’s never liked leaving problems unaddressed.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” she says. “I kind of had the sense you’d have preferred to be looking with Nate alone.”
Sam doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I mean...”
Elena waits, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say any more without prompting. “If you have something to say, say it. I’m just trying to figure out where you’re coming from.”
“I mean, no offence, but this was our treasure,” Sam says. “It’s always been our treasure. I just felt this was meant to be a brothers Drake adventure, you know?” He shrugs. “Plus, you know, hadn’t seen him for fifteen years. I kind of wanted to catch up.”
“You can catch up with me here,” Elena says. “I’m not going to stop you.” She tilts her head. “Plus I’m kind of... part of the catch-up.”
Something dark crosses Sam’s expression, just for a moment. She might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it.
“It’s awful, what happened to you,” she says, quietly. “But you can’t resent him for having a life while you were gone.”
“Yeah? Watch me,” Sam says, and then, catching her look, “Kidding.”
She looks at him harder.
“He’s my baby brother, you know?” Sam protests. “I wanted him to have a good life. Not like I’d be any less rotting in a Panamanian jail if things sucked for him too.” He hesitates. “I mean, yeah, maybe it would’ve felt pretty good if it turned out he’d just been writing poetry about how much he missed me, but basically I wanted good things for him.”
Does Nate have a good life? It’s something that’s been on Elena’s mind, whether he has what he needs, whether he’s happy. It’s better than prison, at least. “And do you think he found them?”
“I mean, multiple lost cities? That’s pretty cool.” Sam pauses, looking at her. “Plus he’s met this girl he’s clearly crazy about, and she’s kind of terrifying, but I’m starting to get the impression she might not be too bad for him.”
“Oh?” Elena asks, beginning to smile.
“I guess maybe I should try to get to know her better,” Sam says.
Elena nods. “I think she’d appreciate that.”
-
They find a complicated pirate-themed puzzle in Madagascar, manage to solve it. It points them to an island northeast of King’s Bay.
Unfortunately, it turns out Rafe’s compromised their phones.
They don’t exactly get away cleanly, but they get away.
Sam’s keen to go to the island straight away, get ahead of Rafe, but Sully vetoes it; they’re all exhausted, they need rest. Elena suggests a compromise: they could book rooms closer to the island than the motel they’re staying at, make an early start in the morning. Safer than staying in the same place, too, if they’ve been tracked.
Their new motel has Wi-Fi, which is more than the last one offered. Should probably check what the weather’s expected to be like, if they’re going to be heading out on the water.
Of course, they had to destroy their phones when they found out Rafe was tracking them.
“Any spare phones, Sully?” she asks.
“You know me.” Sully digs a phone out of his bag, tosses it to her. “Never know when you’ll need prepaid.”
Elena looks up the local weather. Meant to be good in the morning tomorrow, but there’s a storm expected later in the day.
In a less urgent situation, she’d suggest waiting for better weather. But Rafe’s going after the same find, and Sam’s life depends on this.
(In a less urgent situation, she likes to think she’d suggest going home entirely. But it’s hard to walk away when they’ve come this far.)
Come to think of it, it’s not like Alcázar’s escape will have gone unnoticed. Is there any chance they only think they have that urgency hanging over their heads?
“We should be keeping an eye on Alcázar, you know?” she asks, tapping his name into the phone browser. “If he gets rearrested, we don’t have to worry about this.”
“Uh, I don’t know if that’d really make a difference,” Sam says. “He’s got goons on the outside who can do his dirty work.”
Elena doesn’t answer. Elena is staring at the search results, trying to process them.
“Sam,” she says at last, looking up at him. “You’re free.”
“What?” Sam asks, and then his gaze drops to the phone in her hands. “What are you – shit, I forgot phones had the Internet these days—”
Elena looks down at the results again, clicks through to the first one. “Hector Alcázar died in a shootout in Argentina. Si—”
Wait, what?
The words catch in her throat. She rolls them over in her head, starting to make sense of them, starting to understand what they mean.
She’s been betrayed.
“Six months ago,” she says at last.
“Wait, what?” Nate asks, and the sudden, horrible tension in her chest relaxes just a little. She’d been afraid he knew. She’d been afraid Nate was lying to her, too. But this is news to him; she’s sure of that now. He’s not that good an actor.
She looks at Sam. He’s standing there, frozen.
“Yeah, maybe I should go,” he says, after a moment.
“Sam,” Elena says. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But I know we’re out here, risking our lives, because you lied to us.” She pauses, trying to shape her anger into words. “Maybe Nate will forgive you one day. You’re his brother. You’re a stranger to me. If you walk out of here without explaining this, I will never speak to you again.”
Sully clears his throat. “I’m starting to feel I should go too.”
“Go,” Elena says, not taking her eyes off Sam.
She doesn’t want to force Nate to choose between his brother and her. The way she’s feeling right now, she might have to.
She doesn’t pose the ultimatum on the spot. She’s going to need to think it over, give herself some time to calm down, before she’s sure that that’s what she needs to do. But it’s implied in what she’s saying, and she can see that Nate’s wondering whether it’s coming.
Maybe Sam picks up on it, too. She doesn’t trust herself to read his expressions, now that she knows he’s been lying to her since they first met.
“I never wanted to get you involved in this,” Sam says.
“I was involved the moment you talked to Nate,” Elena says.
“Guess I’ll book another room,” Sully mutters. He slips out of the door, bag in hand, and then it’s just the three of them.
“Why did you need the treasure?” Elena asks.
Sam spreads his hands helplessly. “I mean, it’s – it’s treasure.”
“Jesus Christ, Na—” She catches the slip before it’s fully left her mouth. For once, Nate is not the one risking his life for no good reason. “Jesus Christ, Sam.”
“And it was ours,” Sam says, gesturing between himself and Nate. “We’ve dreamt about it since we were kids. Our mom did the work. This was our find, this was our adventure.”
“Then tell me that!” Nate exclaims. “I just got you back, and I’ve spent this whole time thinking you’re about to be murdered by drug lords? We’ve been competing with a private goddamn army – you could have died! Elena or Sully could have died!”
“Nate could have died,” Elena adds, because Nate always seems to forget about that one. “Was that part of your childhood dream?”
“I mean, from your stories, private armies are nothing new,” Sam says.
He’s not wrong. That doesn’t make Elena any less angry. “How did you get out of prison?”
“Uh,” Sam says. “Rafe kind of... paid the guards off.”
“Rafe?” Nate asks, incredulous.
Sam shrugs. “He wanted my expertise.”
“And you double-crossed him,” Nate says.
“In my defence, wouldn’t you? The guy’s an asshole.”
“And you double-crossed me,” Nate says.
“Hey,” Sam says. “No. We’re a team. That’s real. We were still going to split the treasure.”
“And what was going to happen to Alcázar’s share?” Elena asks.
“That’s not... why I told the story. I just wanted Nate to come with me. I wanted to do this together.”
“You could’ve just told me the truth, man,” Nate says, quietly.
Sam hesitates. He looks like he’s in pain.
“You could’ve said no,” he says at last.
There’s a long, long silence.
“Let’s just get some rest,” Nate says eventually, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’ll go home in the morning.”
It costs him something to say it. Elena knows, because the thought hurts her as well: turning around, going home without finding Libertalia, when they’ve come so far and risked so much.
A lost, legendary pirate colony? It’d be incredible to see it. But they can’t justify this any more.
-
Sam’s gone in the morning.
It’s not like the possibility hadn’t crossed Elena’s mind. But she’d hoped he cared enough about his relationship with his brother not to do this.
“He took the goddamn rental,” Sully says. “Got a feeling we’re not getting that deposit back.”
“We never get the deposit back,” Nate reminds him. “When’s the last time our rental didn’t get shot up?”
Sully sighs heavily. “Probably already a write-off after you crashed it through twenty fences. It’d be nice if just once we could bring it back in one piece.”
If the three of them make it out of here in one piece, Elena will consider it a success, car or no car.
The three of them and... yeah, maybe Sam.
“So what do we do?” Nate asks.
She doesn’t really know Sam, and he hasn’t exactly made the best first impression. But, if she just left people to die when they got themselves into stupid situations through their own bad decisions, she wouldn’t have Nate.
“Let’s go after him,” she says.
Part Two
Title: Familiar and Strange, Part One
Fandom: Uncharted 4
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nate/Elena, but it's largely gen
Wordcount: 4,700
Summary: What if Nate and Sam had told Elena the truth at the start of Uncharted 4?
The front door finally opens about an hour after dawn, and Elena heads through to greet Nate, leaving her coffee to brew. It’s not like she was freaking out – Nate’s had to pull all-nighters before, and he’s kind of terrible about remembering to use his phone – but she’s not really a fan of waking in the early hours to realise he’s still not home.
Hey, welcome back! What happened? It’s ready in her throat, and she’s weighing whether to add Maybe you could text next time?, and then she actually sees Nate and the words go out of her head. He looks nervous, and he’s not alone.
“Oh, hi,” Elena says, slightly disconcerted. She can’t remember Nate mentioning company; she’d definitely remember if he’d suggested bringing someone by this early in the morning. “Is this someone from work?”
“This is Sam,” Nate says. He hesitates. “He’s, uh, he’s my brother.”
Elena stares at Nate. Stares at the stranger. Runs the words through in her head a few times, waiting for them to mean something different.
“You don’t... have a brother,” she says at last.
“Elena—”
“You’re messing with me, right?” she asks.
The guy’s older than Nate, although he looks kind of worn in a way that makes it hard to judge his actual age. Not old enough for it to be impossible. But it’s still definitely impossible.
“Elena, I’m so sorry I didn’t mention him,” Nate says. “I thought he was dead.”
That isn’t making this any easier to process. They met each other how many years ago? They’ve been married for how long? Elena thought she knew Nate; he was carrying the loss of a sibling all this time, and he didn’t mention it to her once?
Nate has a brother?
“Uh,” Elena says. “You...” There are so many thoughts crashing through her head that it’s hard to pick out any individual one, put it into words. “You’d better come in, I guess.”
The story Nate tells her is long and tragic and absolutely ridiculous. From anyone else, she wouldn’t have believed it.
But she’s known Nate for a while, and ‘absolutely ridiculous’ comes with the territory. When he tells her an impossible story involving gunfire and lost treasure, she can be pretty sure it’s true.
Maybe not including the time he supposedly fell out of a cargo plane and survived. She’s still not sure about that one.
“And nobody else can help him out with this?” Elena asks, pacing the kitchen-diner.
“I offered to put him in touch with Charlie,” Nate says. “He, uh.” He glances over at Sam.
“It has to be Nate,” Sam says. “He’s the only person I can trust with this.”
“Charlie’s trustworthy,” Elena says. “He puts on a convincing thug act, but he’s loyal and he’s smart. I’m sure he could help you.”
“I got three months,” Sam says. “And it’s not like I’ve spent the last fifteen years making any friends I could trust with my life. No one else is gonna pull out the stops the way we need. Nate helps me, or Alcázar kills me. There’s only two ways this works out.”
Elena braces her hands on the back of a chair, thinking fast. If Nate goes back into that life, he might never come back out. Maybe he dies. Maybe he gets drawn back in, too deep to give it up again. Either way, she loses him.
But what choice do they have?
“It didn’t seem right not to tell you,” Nate says.
“Uh, obviously,” Elena says. “If your surprise brother had dragged you off without a word to me, I think I’d have killed you both myself.”
From the sound of It didn’t seem right not to tell you, they probably contemplated setting off without saying anything. She hates the thought of it.
“Anyway, this cross is up for auction in Italy in three days,” Nate says. “We need to be there if we want to have a chance of saving Sam. I’m—” He hesitates. “I’m sorry. I know I made a promise. But—”
“No, I get it,” Elena says. She grabs her laptop. “If your family’s in danger, we need to help.” That’s always been her policy; she’s always been prepared for the possibility that Sully might get into trouble and drag them out of retirement. She doesn’t have the connection with Sam that she does with Sully, but he’s important to Nate; she can’t just leave him to die. “I’ll book our tickets.”
“Wait,” Sam says. “Our tickets?”
Nate looks torn. “I’m not asking you to come. This is our mess; we’ll clean it up.”
“Yeah, you’ll be safer if you stay home,” Sam says.
Elena raises her eyebrows. “Well, if it’s dangerous I’m definitely coming. Who else will save Nate’s ass?”
“Uh, pretty sure I was saving his ass well before you first saw it,” Sam says. He looks over at Nate. “I thought we were just telling her.”
“She could help,” Nate says. “You both have a pretty good track record of ass-saving.”
“Could my husband and I have a moment alone, please?” Elena asks.
Sam shrugs, waves a hand in a dismissive gesture, walks out of the room. And then it’s just Elena and her husband, Nathan Drake, who apparently she might never have known at all.
Nate’s watching her like she’s a ticking bomb. It’s reassuring to know that she can still read his expressions, at least.
“This is a lot to take in,” Elena says at last.
“I know,” Nate says. “I’m sorry.” He hesitates. “You really don’t have to come.”
“Do you want me to stay here?”
“It’s not that,” Nate says. “It’d be good to have you there. I just... don’t want to ask you to put yourself in danger.”
“That’s an interesting way to phrase it,” Elena says. “You’re not saying don’t go, it’s dangerous.”
Nate shrugs. “I know you can handle yourself. I just don’t want to force you to deal with that.”
“Good thing it’s my decision, then,” Elena says. “I don’t want to sit here on my own, trying to process this, while you go out and get yourself shot at again.”
Nate winces. “I’m hoping there won’t be any shooting this time.”
“Plus I should probably get to know your brother,” Elena says. “I’m coming with you. It can be a kind of... family bonding activity.”
As family bonding activities go, it’s maybe a little weird. But it makes sense for their family, she guesses.
Nate looks at her for a long moment.
“I’m really glad you’re on board for this,” he says at last.
“On board may be overstating my enthusiasm,” Elena says. “But, if this is happening, I want to be there.”
“I’m glad you’ll be there, then,” Nate says. “It’ll be like old times. Hopefully not too like old times.”
He wants to kiss her; he’s not sure if he’s allowed. It’s easy to see in his face, in the way he’s holding himself.
She pretends not to notice. She’s not sure she’s ready for that right now.
Elena spends most of the auction hanging back with Sully. She’s surprised by how much it makes her itch, not having a more active role to play. Maybe she hasn’t left this life behind as completely as she thought.
She’s always hated infiltrating black tie events. If you’re a man, you’re just another suit in a sea of suits; it’s easy enough to move unnoticed. Hard not to draw the eye as a woman, no matter what you wear. Which means she has to stay on the sidelines, and Nate goes into danger alone.
Well. Not technically alone.
“So,” Elena says. “Nate has a brother, huh?”
“Yeah,” Sully says. He takes a drag on his cigar. “Never got on with the guy, but it’s good to see he’s still alive.”
Elena looks over at him. “I take it you knew?”
Sully winces. “Sorry. Didn’t seem like my story to tell.”
It was one of the first questions that came to mind when she met Sam, while she was still reeling: did Sully know? Maybe it was a strange first thought, but she’s not sure what an appropriate one would have been. The whole situation is far beyond anything she has a mental template for.
She considers whether she’ll need to add Sully to the list of people she’s pissed off with. She’s pissed off with Nate for never telling her. She’s pissed off with Sam for existing, for barging into their life out of nowhere, even though she knows that’s unfair.
She guesses she can let Sully off the hook. If she’d learnt it from him, second-hand, it would have been worse.
Elena takes a sip of water, scans the auction floor. She’s kind of wishing she’d taken the offered champagne, but this is serious; she needs to keep a clear head.
She’s not the only woman in trousers here, at least. There’s one other she can see. Not enough to let Elena sneak around unnoticed, but enough to at least help her feel less selfconscious.
The other woman in trousers is crossing the floor purposefully towards them, actually. Elena goes on guard. Has someone noticed that she’s here without an invitation?
“Nadine,” Sully says, smiling, and Elena relaxes just a little. Just an acquaintance coming to greet him, hopefully. “Pleasure to see you again.”
“Victor,” the woman says. “Still pursuing younger women?”
“I’ll pursue whoever’ll have me,” Sully says. “Elena here’s got too much taste for that, though.”
Debateable. She did marry Nate.
“Nadine Ross,” Nadine says, holding out her hand to Elena.
“Elena Fisher,” Elena says, shaking it. “How do you two know each other?”
An old girlfriend, maybe? If she is, Sully’s done extremely well.
“Ah, it’s a long story,” Sully says. “Involves an ancient goblet and Nadine’s private army. I don’t want to reopen old wounds.”
Private army is a phrase that puts Elena on edge.
“No wounds to be opened,” Nadine says, with an unamused smile. “It wasn’t personal. How about you?”
“Kind of a long story on this end, too,” Elena says.
“Not surprised,” Nadine says. “Victor has a lot of long stories. I was on my way to the bar; can I get either of you something?”
They tear out of the estate’s grounds with bullets pinging off the wheel rims. Elena saw this coming a mile away.
She wishes she hadn’t been right. She wishes Nate could be satisfied with this much; if they keep going any further, she has a feeling they’ll be meeting Nadine’s army before long.
She wishes she could be satisfied with this much. The hunt, the adrenaline: the truth is that it’s awakened something in her. They’ve taken the first step towards Avery’s treasure. They can’t stop now.
Sam’s still in danger. It means there’s a reason to keep pursuing this, and she hates that a part of herself is glad to have the excuse.
She glances at the back seat, where Sam and Nate are catching their breath.
Who is Sam Drake, beyond the reason they’re doing this? She hasn’t had much of an opportunity to talk to him. It’s hard to know what to say to the brother-in-law who stepped into her life out of thin air.
She could ask Nate what he used to be like. She’s not sure how much that would tell her about the Sam who exists now, though.
It must have done something to him, fifteen years in prison. She’s reported on prisons before; she knows you don’t come out of that unscarred.
She wonders what she’s not seeing, what changes she’s missing because she didn’t know Sam before it happened. Whether the brother Nate got back matches up with the brother he lost.
The scenery in Scotland is certainly beautiful, if bleak. It’d be nice if they had less time to admire it, though; it’s costing Elena all the feeling in her fingers. Sully might have had the right idea by staying on standby for this one.
“Rafe’s really going all in, isn’t he?” Sam asks.
She doesn’t think it’s conscious, but Sam always seems to be addressing Nate specifically, as if Elena weren’t here. Maybe he hasn’t entirely accepted her presence in Nate’s life yet; she’s a stranger who stepped in while he was gone.
To be fair, she hasn’t entirely accepted Sam’s presence either.
She can hear Nate in Sam’s voice; she can see Nate in his face, sometimes, in the right light. But it’s still hard for her to believe that Nate has a sibling. Another Drake here in front of her, living and breathing, flesh and blood.
Although Nate wasn’t always a Drake, was he?
“Is your surname Drake?” Elena asks.
“What else would it be?” Sam asks, glancing over at her. “Not like I’d be taking my wife’s name. Not like I’ve got a wife in the first place.”
Elena looks at Nate, catches his eye, with a small smile. They actually did discuss Nate taking her name. Not when they first got married, but a couple of years later, when he admitted he hadn’t been born a Drake. He’d been weighing up which name felt more real to him, Drake or Fisher; concluded in the end that Drake meant too much to him to let it go.
She hadn’t been offended. She’d been touched that he’d considered her name at all. She certainly never considered taking his.
“I don’t know,” Elena says. “Nate mentioned it wasn’t always your surname. Well, he mentioned it wasn’t always his surname; I didn’t know if the same applied to you.”
Sam turns to look at her fully, his expression hard to read: a hint of a frown, maybe. After a moment, he looks at Nate. “You really told her everything, huh?”
“I didn’t know I had a brother-in-law,” Elena points out. “I would strongly argue that my husband didn’t tell me everything.”
Sam shrugs. “If it makes you feel any better, he never told me he had a wife.”
“In my defence, you were dead,” Nate protests.
“And what’s your excuse for me?” Elena asks.
Nate coughs. “Let’s just find this grave, huh?”
They find a narrow rope bridge, and, as the lightest of their party, Elena crosses it first, slightly nervously. They’ve never had much luck with bridges. But it holds.
It holds until Sam tries to cross it, at least.
“Shit!” Sam hauls himself up the dangling slats, collapses onto the grass next to Elena, gasping for breath. “Shit!”
“Kind of nice to see it happen to someone else for once,” Nate calls across from the other side.
“Yeah, screw you,” Sam calls back.
Elena bites her lip. The alarm is subsiding, being replaced by the slow realisation that the collapse of the bridge has left Nate behind, and now she’s alone with Sam.
“Okay, you guys keep heading for the graveyard,” Nate calls. “I’ll find another way across.”
This is going to be awkward.
The two of them are pretty quiet as they keep going alone. It’s tempting to blame Sam for that, but Elena has to admit that she’s not exactly initiating much conversation herself.
What is she supposed to say? This guy is a vast black hole in her knowledge of her husband’s life. She doesn’t know where to begin asking questions.
And then they run into Shoreline.
They try to sneak past. Almost manage it. Elena’s just thinking they might get away with this when someone opens fire behind them, and she’s jolted into a run before she’s even consciously registered the sound.
Sam yells behind her, fuck, is he hit—
Just keep running. They can assess the situation when they’re safe.
Fuck. She hopes he’s okay. She really doesn’t want to have to tell Nate his brother got killed four days after their reunion.
She goes skidding down a steep slope, slate and gravel giving way underneath her, and she dodges behind some rocks at the bottom and crouches there, heart hammering. Hopefully she’s got enough distance; hopefully they won’t bother coming after her.
Someone’s come after her. She can hear quick unsteady footsteps, gravel beginning to trickle down as someone tries to edge down the slope. She holds her breath.
And then her pursuer loses their footing, and she’s able to relax a little when she hears their startled yelp. That’s definitely Sam.
“Did anyone follow you?” she calls from her hiding place, when it sounds like Sam’s picking himself up.
“Fuck!” he exclaims. “Jesus. Don’t just voice-of-God me like that.” He appears around the rocks. “Hi?”
“Hi,” Elena says. “Did anyone follow you?”
“Uh, don’t think so.” He pauses for a moment, listening. “Yeah, I think they pretty much stick around the zones they’re assigned to.”
“Well, that’s good,” Elena says. She hesitates, her gaze dropping; Sam’s clutching his arm. “Are you okay?”
“I think, uh.” He’s still breathing fast; it looks like a struggle to get the words out. “I think I got shot? Like, not very shot. Kind of shot?”
“Let me take a look,” Elena says.
She sits him down on one of the rocks, asks him to take off his jacket and anything with sleeves underneath it. He grumbles about how cold it is, but he does it.
‘Kind of shot’ is right. A bullet’s clipped his arm. Not anything life-threatening, but Sam’s probably not enjoying it, and it’ll need treatment if they don’t want it getting infected.
Elena pulls the first-aid kit out of her bag, and she’s cleaned and bandaged Sam’s arm before it occurs to her to wonder when she became so practised at treating bullet wounds.
Sam’s quiet the whole time. She looks up to find him watching her, frowning a little.
“Thanks,” he says, after a moment. He bends and straightens his arm, experimentally, then grabs his clothes and starts pulling them back on. “Guess it’s a good thing you were here.”
It feels like an opportunity to get to know him better. She’s been getting the impression he’s not exactly thrilled to have her along; it’s an atmosphere that makes it hard to make conversation. If he’s thanking her now, he might be willing to open up a little.
Maybe it’d be easier to start with safe subjects, rather than tackling that particular sore spot head-on. But she’s never liked leaving problems unaddressed.
“Well, that’s good to hear,” she says. “I kind of had the sense you’d have preferred to be looking with Nate alone.”
Sam doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “I mean...”
Elena waits, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to say any more without prompting. “If you have something to say, say it. I’m just trying to figure out where you’re coming from.”
“I mean, no offence, but this was our treasure,” Sam says. “It’s always been our treasure. I just felt this was meant to be a brothers Drake adventure, you know?” He shrugs. “Plus, you know, hadn’t seen him for fifteen years. I kind of wanted to catch up.”
“You can catch up with me here,” Elena says. “I’m not going to stop you.” She tilts her head. “Plus I’m kind of... part of the catch-up.”
Something dark crosses Sam’s expression, just for a moment. She might have missed it if she hadn’t been watching for it.
“It’s awful, what happened to you,” she says, quietly. “But you can’t resent him for having a life while you were gone.”
“Yeah? Watch me,” Sam says, and then, catching her look, “Kidding.”
She looks at him harder.
“He’s my baby brother, you know?” Sam protests. “I wanted him to have a good life. Not like I’d be any less rotting in a Panamanian jail if things sucked for him too.” He hesitates. “I mean, yeah, maybe it would’ve felt pretty good if it turned out he’d just been writing poetry about how much he missed me, but basically I wanted good things for him.”
Does Nate have a good life? It’s something that’s been on Elena’s mind, whether he has what he needs, whether he’s happy. It’s better than prison, at least. “And do you think he found them?”
“I mean, multiple lost cities? That’s pretty cool.” Sam pauses, looking at her. “Plus he’s met this girl he’s clearly crazy about, and she’s kind of terrifying, but I’m starting to get the impression she might not be too bad for him.”
“Oh?” Elena asks, beginning to smile.
“I guess maybe I should try to get to know her better,” Sam says.
Elena nods. “I think she’d appreciate that.”
They find a complicated pirate-themed puzzle in Madagascar, manage to solve it. It points them to an island northeast of King’s Bay.
Unfortunately, it turns out Rafe’s compromised their phones.
They don’t exactly get away cleanly, but they get away.
Sam’s keen to go to the island straight away, get ahead of Rafe, but Sully vetoes it; they’re all exhausted, they need rest. Elena suggests a compromise: they could book rooms closer to the island than the motel they’re staying at, make an early start in the morning. Safer than staying in the same place, too, if they’ve been tracked.
Their new motel has Wi-Fi, which is more than the last one offered. Should probably check what the weather’s expected to be like, if they’re going to be heading out on the water.
Of course, they had to destroy their phones when they found out Rafe was tracking them.
“Any spare phones, Sully?” she asks.
“You know me.” Sully digs a phone out of his bag, tosses it to her. “Never know when you’ll need prepaid.”
Elena looks up the local weather. Meant to be good in the morning tomorrow, but there’s a storm expected later in the day.
In a less urgent situation, she’d suggest waiting for better weather. But Rafe’s going after the same find, and Sam’s life depends on this.
(In a less urgent situation, she likes to think she’d suggest going home entirely. But it’s hard to walk away when they’ve come this far.)
Come to think of it, it’s not like Alcázar’s escape will have gone unnoticed. Is there any chance they only think they have that urgency hanging over their heads?
“We should be keeping an eye on Alcázar, you know?” she asks, tapping his name into the phone browser. “If he gets rearrested, we don’t have to worry about this.”
“Uh, I don’t know if that’d really make a difference,” Sam says. “He’s got goons on the outside who can do his dirty work.”
Elena doesn’t answer. Elena is staring at the search results, trying to process them.
“Sam,” she says at last, looking up at him. “You’re free.”
“What?” Sam asks, and then his gaze drops to the phone in her hands. “What are you – shit, I forgot phones had the Internet these days—”
Elena looks down at the results again, clicks through to the first one. “Hector Alcázar died in a shootout in Argentina. Si—”
Wait, what?
The words catch in her throat. She rolls them over in her head, starting to make sense of them, starting to understand what they mean.
She’s been betrayed.
“Six months ago,” she says at last.
“Wait, what?” Nate asks, and the sudden, horrible tension in her chest relaxes just a little. She’d been afraid he knew. She’d been afraid Nate was lying to her, too. But this is news to him; she’s sure of that now. He’s not that good an actor.
She looks at Sam. He’s standing there, frozen.
“Yeah, maybe I should go,” he says, after a moment.
“Sam,” Elena says. “I don’t know what’s going on here. But I know we’re out here, risking our lives, because you lied to us.” She pauses, trying to shape her anger into words. “Maybe Nate will forgive you one day. You’re his brother. You’re a stranger to me. If you walk out of here without explaining this, I will never speak to you again.”
Sully clears his throat. “I’m starting to feel I should go too.”
“Go,” Elena says, not taking her eyes off Sam.
She doesn’t want to force Nate to choose between his brother and her. The way she’s feeling right now, she might have to.
She doesn’t pose the ultimatum on the spot. She’s going to need to think it over, give herself some time to calm down, before she’s sure that that’s what she needs to do. But it’s implied in what she’s saying, and she can see that Nate’s wondering whether it’s coming.
Maybe Sam picks up on it, too. She doesn’t trust herself to read his expressions, now that she knows he’s been lying to her since they first met.
“I never wanted to get you involved in this,” Sam says.
“I was involved the moment you talked to Nate,” Elena says.
“Guess I’ll book another room,” Sully mutters. He slips out of the door, bag in hand, and then it’s just the three of them.
“Why did you need the treasure?” Elena asks.
Sam spreads his hands helplessly. “I mean, it’s – it’s treasure.”
“Jesus Christ, Na—” She catches the slip before it’s fully left her mouth. For once, Nate is not the one risking his life for no good reason. “Jesus Christ, Sam.”
“And it was ours,” Sam says, gesturing between himself and Nate. “We’ve dreamt about it since we were kids. Our mom did the work. This was our find, this was our adventure.”
“Then tell me that!” Nate exclaims. “I just got you back, and I’ve spent this whole time thinking you’re about to be murdered by drug lords? We’ve been competing with a private goddamn army – you could have died! Elena or Sully could have died!”
“Nate could have died,” Elena adds, because Nate always seems to forget about that one. “Was that part of your childhood dream?”
“I mean, from your stories, private armies are nothing new,” Sam says.
He’s not wrong. That doesn’t make Elena any less angry. “How did you get out of prison?”
“Uh,” Sam says. “Rafe kind of... paid the guards off.”
“Rafe?” Nate asks, incredulous.
Sam shrugs. “He wanted my expertise.”
“And you double-crossed him,” Nate says.
“In my defence, wouldn’t you? The guy’s an asshole.”
“And you double-crossed me,” Nate says.
“Hey,” Sam says. “No. We’re a team. That’s real. We were still going to split the treasure.”
“And what was going to happen to Alcázar’s share?” Elena asks.
“That’s not... why I told the story. I just wanted Nate to come with me. I wanted to do this together.”
“You could’ve just told me the truth, man,” Nate says, quietly.
Sam hesitates. He looks like he’s in pain.
“You could’ve said no,” he says at last.
There’s a long, long silence.
“Let’s just get some rest,” Nate says eventually, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We’ll go home in the morning.”
It costs him something to say it. Elena knows, because the thought hurts her as well: turning around, going home without finding Libertalia, when they’ve come so far and risked so much.
A lost, legendary pirate colony? It’d be incredible to see it. But they can’t justify this any more.
Sam’s gone in the morning.
It’s not like the possibility hadn’t crossed Elena’s mind. But she’d hoped he cared enough about his relationship with his brother not to do this.
“He took the goddamn rental,” Sully says. “Got a feeling we’re not getting that deposit back.”
“We never get the deposit back,” Nate reminds him. “When’s the last time our rental didn’t get shot up?”
Sully sighs heavily. “Probably already a write-off after you crashed it through twenty fences. It’d be nice if just once we could bring it back in one piece.”
If the three of them make it out of here in one piece, Elena will consider it a success, car or no car.
The three of them and... yeah, maybe Sam.
“So what do we do?” Nate asks.
She doesn’t really know Sam, and he hasn’t exactly made the best first impression. But, if she just left people to die when they got themselves into stupid situations through their own bad decisions, she wouldn’t have Nate.
“Let’s go after him,” she says.
Part Two
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