North || Nathan Drake

17

Dante was distracted by Nate sitting shirtless on the sofa as he entered the room. The bathrobe swishing around his shoulders and over his bare chest as he lingered for a moment in the entry. The thin cotton go the pyjama pants were soft on his skin and he noticed Nate wearing a matching pair, the matching shirt discarded on the arm of the sofa. Next to the Drake man, Chloe noticed Dante first. She was draped over the cushions and wrapped in her own hotel issued bathrobe. Her dark eyes lifting and the sharpness in them softening slightly at whatever she saw on Dante's face. 

Part of his mind remarked that she had never looked at him so softly. Not even when they were dating, when he thought they were in love. It seemed that she had changed too. Or she was pitying him for watching his father's murder. Either way, he was too emotionally tired and worn to try and figure it out. But that didn't stop part of him hoping that her softness meant that they could be friends again. Dante had never had many but ever since he had been told of Sam's death he had been feeling so desperately alone. He just had no energy anymore to fight it. 

Nate looked up and his eyes softened, but in a different way to Chloe. A slight smile tugged at his lips. "Dante. Come look at this", he shifted on the sofa, nudging Chloe back with his hip to make room. The curly haired male padded across the floor and sunk into the plush cushions. He could feel the warmth of the American pressed all up his side, knee to hip and shoulders brushing. 

The map was spread across the glass coffee table before them. On top of which Nate had scattered the postcards he had received from Sam. "According to Chloe the dimensions are the same as the actual map", Nate explained. Dante leaned forwards to track the moving hand as it gestured to the table. "But Braddock is not going to find the gold. Not where she is looking. I was just saying that the Captain left a final clue. Sully told me that he thinks that Sam knew what that clue was". 

"So we can stop her from getting the gold?" Dante murmured thoughtfully. It wasn't about finding the gold to rebel against his father, not anymore. His family were all dead. He didn't care about the gold anymore. He just wanted Jo Braddock to lose. "Do you think that Sam tried to tell you that clue?" He turned his eyes to Nate, a hint of the old excitement returning to his voice. 

Nate grinned at the sound. Dante had looked so fragile in that bath. So lost and small. It was a relief to hear a bit of the old him again. "These postcards are the only thing I have got from Sam in the last ten years. So if he did try to tell me something. It has to be here". His voice quietened at the end, hands fiddling with a pen. The lid tapping on his finger. "Please be trying to tell me something, Sam". 

Dante shifted his arm so the backs of their hands were brushing were they rested on their knees. His left hand picking up a postcard as he gently curled his little finger between Nate's. The pen stopped tapping as their little fingers intertwined. Dante ignored the way Nate turned to gaze at him but could see it out of the corner of his eye, lips slightly parted and eyes oh so warm. Chloe rolled her eyes at the two of them, the action going unnoticed by the two boys and picked up two of the postcards to begin reading them. The action jolted Nate from his thoughts and he flicked his gaze back to the table. 

"Is it something in the images?" She asked. 

"Or something in the writing. Like and anagram or a cypher. We used to do that all the time as kids". 

Dante hummed. "My mother used to do that. She used to write her letters with anagrams to me. It was a game we played. It drove my father up the wall because he couldn't solve them". The memory was a fond one and he felt the wave of sadness well up again as he was once again reminded that he was now an orphan. His expression turning bittersweet as he began to scan his way through the postcards in search of a hidden meaning. 

They started with the images, spring everything by colour themes to find a pattern. When that idea was exhausted they moved onto the anagrams. There was one postcard where Sam spelled everything wrong which had them writing and rewriting letters across a hotel logoed notepad for over an hour. After they moved onto cyphers there were three glasses of sparkling water lined up on one end of the table. Nate had pulled on a shirt as the night grew colder and the air-con brought a chill to the room. Dante turned it off but the chill remained. It was past midnight when Chloe excused herself to bed. The postcards having been flipped and rotated dozens of times. She disappeared into her room, leaving the two boys alone. 

Nate had moved off the sofa to kneel on the fluffy rug closer to the table. Dante had reclined across the couch, head pillowed against one arm and bathrobe tied around him to remove the chill as he gazed with sleepy eyes at the map and the postcards. His mind exhausted but only determination and spite had stopped him from retiring to bed already. He however had not been able to resist the lure of the sofa and he could already feel his eyes slipping. Sleep from the emotional and traumatic day swelling up over him.

Nate sighed and flipped a bottle cap in his hands. "Come on Sam. What are you trying to tell me?" He pulled a piece of gum from a discarded pack and chewed on it thoughtfully. "What are you trying to tell me buddy?" He flipped a postcard over. "There's a whole world you haven't seen, but you will".  Nate paused. "Haven't seen", he repeated. 

Previously tired movements took on a new energy as he reached for his lighter. It clicked but refused to spark and he cursed. Instead he got up and reached for the candles the hotel staff had left burning for them in the kitchen. He picked one up and held it under the postcard. The smile of relief lighting up his face as words written in lemon juice darkened enough to be read. Nate grinned giddily at the discovery and put the candle down. He peered back into the living room and paused once he noticed that Dante was asleep. The darker male lying limp on the cushions, chest rising and falling and mouth slightly opened as he breathed. Sleep smoothed out his features and eased the weight of grief that had ben weighing on him.

 Nate sighed softly as he padded back to the living room. There was a decorative throw on the back of the sofa and he pulled it down to unfold it. He tucked it neatly around the other man, making sure that he was comfortable before he headed for Chloe's room in search for the two golden crosses. 

unedited.

Anyone missed these two. Their tension is still building.