


Due Rewards

by Nathan Fraust



Category: Uncharted series
Genre: Adventure, Supernatural
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2014-10-03 00:02:55
Rating: T
Chapters: 1
Words: 575
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10473391/1/
Author URL: https://www.fanfiction.net/u/5191796/Nathan-Fraust
Summary: Out of the game for nearly a decade, Nathan Drake returns for one last adventure. *WILL UPDATE SUMMARY WHEN I CAN THINK OF SOMETHING BETTER*





	Due Rewards

**Author's Note- I would greatly appreciate it if you reviewed this story after finishing it; it'll only help me improve my skills.**

Chapter 0: Anima

The flame flickered for a moment before settling back down, casting eerie shadows on the statue's agonized face. Deacon Marco Solberg bent his knees, and, sinking down, began to earnestly pray with a slightly heavy accent at the _crucifix_'s feet: "O my God, I am heartfully sorry for having offended thee-"

As he continued, Marco heard the creak of wood behind him, then the sound of shuffling and a thump and sigh as the intruder settled into a pew. Finishing, he twisted his head to see _Senor_ Drake snoring quietly in the second-to-last pew, his head resting on his shoulder and drool starting to come out of his mouth. Rising slowly, Marco strode silently over to Drake and tapped him on the shoulder. "Nathan," he whispered.

"Huh?" Nathan Drake said, opening his bleary eyes and lifting his head. He twisted and looked at the deacon for a few moments before his eyes sharpened. "Marcos? What happened?"

"You tell me, Mr. Drake," Marcos said. "You just wandered in."

"Uh, okay." Nate evidently just noticed the black wet spot on his shoulder, and wiped at his mouth, looking at the saliva for a moment before rubbing it on his worn blue jeans. "I think I was-" Mouth suddenly going slack and eyes widening, Nate stared at the _crucifix_.

"Mr. Drake? Mr. Drake?" Marcos repeated, searching his friend's eyes for a sign. "Is everything okay?"

"Have you ever seen a demon, Marcos?" Nate asked, his voice hollow. "I have. So many demons… so many…"

Marcos gave a heavy sigh, then walked around Nate's legs and sat next to him in the pew. "Is this about Francis, or Marlowe?"

Nate started to laugh humorlessly, lifting his eyes to the ceiling. He continued for a few moments, before halting and saying in a somber tone, "Francis."

Marcos sighed again. "He's been dead for centuries, Drake. You need to let it go, this… this _obsession_. What about Elena, Elizabeth? They need you to be here."

"I know, Marcos. Believe me, I know. I just…"

"Just nothing. You, of all people, deserve a fresh start."

Nate rubbed his stubbled chin for a moment, musing, before lowering his head and standing up. "You're right, I do need a reboot, but how?"

Marcos put his hand on the pew seat and pushed himself up. "I don't know, Nathan, but that's what _He's_ for." He pointed at the _crucifix_. "Trust me, I know more than most what he's capable of."

Nate cast a tired, and, as it seemed to Marcos, slightly wary eye towards it, nodding. "Well, I kind of fell out of touch after all these years, but…" He fell silent for a moment, staring again with pursed lips.

Just as Marcos was about to interrupt the internal dialogue, Nate turned back to him, eyes bright and mouth slightly upturned. "So, see you on Sunday, I suppose."

"I'll be expecting you, Mr. Drake," Marcos reassured him as he started walking towards the door. "You and yours."

He was starting to turn back when Nate suddenly twisted 180 degrees, face lighting up. "I forgot, I was going to ask you something."

"What is it, Mr. Drake?"

"How much do you know about the Holy Lance?"


End file.
