


Uncharted: In the Beginning

by horse982



Category: Uncharted series
Genre: Family, Friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-30
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2013-08-15 23:00:17
Rating: T
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,117
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8854578/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/4117343/horse982
Summary: A different way of starting Nate and Sully's Friendship, along with some oneshots.





	1. That was Unexpected

Sully's POV

I watched from an adjacent rooftop as the kid whirled around, sending one of Marlowe's agents toppling over the edge to the street below. The gun he had been holding fell to the roof near the kid. The brown-haired teen skidded to a stop at the edge of the roof. He lunged to grab the fallen agent's gun, pointing it towards the agent with shaking hands. "Look what we have here," the black-suited agent said, slowly stalking towards him, causing him to back towards the edge of the roof. The kid shuffled backwards, falling but still holding onto the gun.

"Whoops. You alright?" Deceptively caring, the agent's voice reaches my ears as he kept walking forward as the kid kept scooting backward. I could see the fear in his eyes. There was no way in hell he would be able to pull the trigger. Crap. The unfamiliar feelings of protectiveness and concern surged within me. I started sprinting toward the little roof they were standing on, dodging pots and climbing up to the roof just fast enough to hear the agent say,"Just, close your eyes. This won't hurt a bit."

I pulled out my gun as I watched the kid's eyes close, and shot the agent between the shoulder blades. The teen jumped as the crack from the shot echoed off the surrounding buildings, his eyes opening and frantically scanning the agent as the agent's jaw sagged, releasing a strangled gasp seconds before the body slumped forward, hitting the ground with a loud thump.

I walked toward the kid, holstering my gun as I did. I wasn't scared of the gun the kid held pointed towards me. If he couldn't shoot someone with the barrel of a pistol leveled between his eyes, he wasn't going to shoot someone who didn't have a gun out.

I was right in assuming that he wouldn't shoot me. What I hadn't planned for was him rolling backwards off the roof.


	2. Safe For The Moment

Nate's POV

I watched the man whose wallet I had swiped earlier holster his gun and start walking towards me. All of a sudden, I acted without thinking and rolled backward off the roof, grabbing for the ledge at the last minute to aim for anything I could use to get away from this place. My eyes scanned desperately for a handhold.

There! A pipe that went from underneath the ledge all the way down to the ground. I jumped to pipe, hesitating as I heard the man's footsteps come to the edge of the roof that I had just rolled off.

"What the hell? Where the hell did the kid go?" I held my breath as I heard him pacing back and forth along the edge of the roof. _Damnit, I can't drop until he leaves. He'll hear me! _I thought as my arms started aching. Finally, I couldn't take it any more, and attempted to quietly make my way down the pipe.

I was halfway down the pipe when I heard,"Hey, kid!"

_Crap!_

I loosened my hands just enough to slide the rest of the way down to the ground. The instant my trembling legs hit the ground, I was off running. I didn't know if he was chasing me or not, but I wasn't taking a chance. I rounded the first right turn I saw, remembering the area from the two months I had spent in Cartagena. Hearing footsteps behind me, I picked up the pace, running faster than I could ever remember, at least on flat ground. I took a left, then another left, a right, through an alley, then glanced behind me. Nothing but regular people. No black-clad agents. The man in the hideous green shirt was nowhere in sight. I started walking, trembling all over from the events of the past few hours.

After walking for about another half hour, I was standing next to a garbage dumpster underneath a window that I had crawled through about twenty times. I looked around one last time, just to be sure. Nothing out of the usual. I jumped onto the dumpster, then leaped, my hands just barely catching the edge of the window, just like every other time.

Pulling myself through the window, I ducked down beside it, peeking out just enough to catch a glimpse of that horrible green shirt. _Shit!_ _How did he follow me?_

I watched, tense and hidden by that window, as he looked around, probably looking for me. After him looking around for about five minutes, all the while running his hand through his dark hair, he gave up. He walked away the way he had come. I was kinda glad he hadn't found me. He looked pissed.

When he was out of sight, I turned around, leaning against the wall, suddenly exhausted. I pulled myself to my feet, glancing at the books scattered around the small room. I went to the little cot in the corner and collapsed on it, pulling out Francis Drake's ring and studying. Finally, it was mine. I put it on my middle finger, then realized that it was way too big. _That won't work. Hmm, what about-_ I reached under the cot for the leather cord I had found and tied the ring onto it. I then tied it around my neck, tucking it underneath my shirt where it would be safe. Then I fell asleep, one hand right on top of where the ring sat hidden against my chest.


	3. Searching for Answers

Sully's POV

I peered over the edge of the roof just enough to barely catch a glimpse of the red and white shirt the kid had been wearing before. I crouched on the edge of the roof to see better. The kid- he wasn't really a kid, he had to be fifteen of sixteen-shimmied down a pipe connected to the building which ran the height of the building and buried itself in the dirt at the foot of the building.

"Hey, kid!" I yelled. Hearing me yell, he started sliding down the pole even faster. Crap. I watched the kid run off as I followed him with my eyes, looking for a fast way off the roof.

There! A low roof stood just in front of me. I jumped from the roof to the poorly-paved street below, searching for that red and white shirt among the sea of people.

I saw a flash of red turning down a side street and raced after it. After a couple of minutes chasing the kid, I lost sight of him. I looked around as I slowed to a walk, finding no sign of the scruffy, dirty teenager. I ran my hand through my hair, a nervous habit of mine. I stopped and looked around for a few minutes, still messing with my hair as I cursed that stupid kid. He probably cost me a huge payday!

Giving up on the kid, for now, I walked back to the hotel I was staying at while I was in Cartagena. It was a pretty run-down place, but I had spent the night in worse places.

As I climbed up the stairs to the room I had rented for the night, I thought more about the kid. He had guts, I thought as I remembered his smart-ass remarks to Marlowe, and the look of defiance in his eyes after she had slapped him across the face.

He was fast, too. He had outrun all of Marlowe's men, except for the fact that he had ended up in a dead end. He had even outrun me, which isn't easy to do. He had that general cockiness of a teenager, along with the attitude. Well, until someone called his bluff and he was staring down the barrel of a gun. He didn't have the nerve to pull the trigger that would have saved his life, I thought as I opened the door to the hotel room.

It wasn't too shabby, maybe a bit old, but still in good shape. The sand-colored walls coordinated with the light blue and red blankets that you wouldn't think would look good, but did. Who the hell am I kidding? I don't have the faintest idea on what matched what. All I knew is that it had a soft bed, which was good enough for me.

I crossed the room to the doors which led to a balcony and stepped outside. The air outside the room smelled of anything but freshness, which got me back to thinking about the kid. Hell, I thought, who would have expected him to have the nerve- no, to _need_ to have the nerve- to shoot a man.

I decided to lie down and sleep for a few hours. As I dropped onto the bed, a small puff of dust left the pillow. I punched the pillow a few times, easing some of my frustrations. 'I'll look for the kid tonight,' I thought, 'when he'll most likely be running around.'

Later, I walked around the worse parts of Cartagena, one hand on the gun in the holster on my hip. I knew the risks of walking through a shady part of town, and I knew them well. When I heard the sound of a guitar and two voices-one male, one female- I paused, then turned toward the sound. I stood there deliberating for a minute, and then decided I might as well. The kid might want to listen, too.

As I got closer, I could hear the music more clearly, and found the singers in an alley, with a small group all clustered around a fire. The man looked to be about twenty-eight, with black hair that bounced as he nodded his head to the beat of the song, while his fingers flew over the guitar sitting on his lap. The woman sat beside him, her hands telling the story of the song. It kinda sucked that I didn't know Spanish, because I couldn't understand a word of it. But even though I couldn't tell what she was singing, the song sounded….hopeful, almost like a religious song. Suddenly, I saw a flash of light from somewhere above my head in front of me.

I looked up-maybe it was some small trinket that I could pawn off for at least a few bucks- and almost jumped out of my skin as I realized what I had seen was the firelight flashing off the ring that had started all of this crap. The only thing was, it was on a leather cord, around someone's neck. It took me a minute to recognize the kid from earlier. He was leaning on his forearms on the edge of the roof, obviously interested in the scene below him. From where I was standing, I could have sworn he was very softly singing along.

I walked around the corner of the building, looking for a way up. When my eyes landed on a fire escape, I smiled. Too easy. I climbed up and started climbing up the four levels to the roof. When my feet hit the roof, I looked over to where the kid was still watching the singers below. He didn't give any sign that he had heard me. I started walking toward him, but when I was about five feet away from him, he turned and looked right at me.

"Yeah, I know you're there." He kept staring at me until I walked to the edge of the roof.

"How long you been here?" I asked him, trying to watch him out of the corner of my eye and look inconspicuous at the same time.

"You mean here in Cartagena, or here on the roof?" he asked sarcastically. I looked over at him to see a smirk on his face.

"Both."

"Why do you care?" he said, practically spitting out the words. "What do you want with me?"

Oh, this was gonna be fun. Every word he had said so far was laced with sarcasm, and I could tell that getting him to tell me anything was going to be difficult.

"A little gratitude would be nice. I did save your ass earlier." I said. He glared at me.

"Thanks, but I didn't need any help. I had everything under-"I cut him off.

"Like hell you did, kid. If it weren't for me, you would have a bullet in your head, and Marlowe would have that ring." He didn't deny it. "What's your story, anyway, kid?" I asked him.

"Look, no offense mister, but I don't know you." He said.

"Look, how about we go to a restaurant, get something to eat, and you can tell me why that ring is so important to you."


End file.
