Part 1: From Small Beginnings
Victor Sullivan
"Don't do anything stupid, you understand me? Promise me you'll wait," Sully barked into the phone, if only to break through Nate's incoherent stammering.
The kid let out a shuddering breath that rocked Sully to his core. "Y-yea..." He mumbled.
Sully drove through the night and well into the following day, not stopping once in fear of Nathan Drake acting purely on his impulses. He knew how easily he lost his head when it came to Sam, and prayed he had had the sense to take heed of his advice.
Apparently, Sam went missing a few days ago, from what Sully was able to pry out of Nate, and received word that if he wanted to see his brother alive, he had to conjure up twenty-five grand in cash. Sully's fury flowed through his veins, and he was about ready to clash heads with the lowlife that decided to mess with his boys...
Sully pulled up to the designated meeting spot, and nearly let out a cry of relief when he saw the kid standing at the street corner. The dread of Nate going on ahead without him battered at Sully's thoughts, but there he was, as big as life. Sully barely managed to get both feet out of the car before Nate had him wrapped him in a crushing hug and Sully reciprocated it, patting his back. Poor kid was trembling, either from exhaustion or the anxiety of losing his brother overnight. More than likely both.
"It's okay, kid, we're gonna get him back," Sully murmured gently, which was a far-cry from how he was feeling. "You think you're up for this?"
Nate staggered back from him, running quaking fingers through his mussed-up hair, and in that moment Sully saw the dark circles under his eyes.
Awe hell, kid... He must not have slept since Sam's disappearance.
"Y-yea... did..." He sucked in a sharp breath. "Did you bring it?" He asked. "The money, did you get it?" He peered into the car, as if cash like that could miraculously appear out of thin air.
Sully shook his head. "We're not giving those bastards a cent."
Nate's posture became rigid, horror tainting his face. "Wha-? No, Sully, you- this guy isn't screwing around. We've worked with him before, he's not- he offered us a deal we couldn't pass up, and then he cut us out and we got the hell outta there, but somehow he found us and now he has Sam."
Sully forcibly swallowed down his rant that threatened to bubble over the brim of his patience, how they were idiotic to work with someone they couldn't vouch for, about how they should negotiate their own terms in a deal, cover their tracks, and that they should have stuck with him from the start. The brothers wouldn't be in this wreck if they hadn't allowed their arrogance to get the better of them.
However, as furious as he was, it wasn't entirely directed at the Drake's, but at the scum that was so goddamn close to taking away the only good in his life.
Nate started to pace, so Sully grabbed his shoulders rather roughly, to get him to focus on him instead of the panic drowning out any of his senses. "Listen to me, kid. I know how people like him operate. There's plenty of 'em out there. It doesn't matter if we pay him, he won't let your brother go." Nate looked at him, terror glistening in his eyes, shaking his head in denial, even attempting to break free of his hold. Sully grasped on tighter, giving him a little shake. "Listen to me. We'll get him back, but you gotta trust me. Do exactly as I say, understand?"
Sully let him go when he managed a numb nod. He wished he could make this all go away, even wondering what it would have been like if it was just him and Nate...
But, he realized, that wasn't fair for a plethora of reasons. Namely, for as hotheaded as Sam could be, and the amount of times Sully butted heads with him, he would be a damned fool if he tried to convince himself this was all just for Nate. He cared for Sam, as difficult as that could be at times, and Sully couldn't, not in good conscious, leave him behind.
"Let's get him home."
~ ~ ~
"There," Nate murmured at his side as Sully parked almost two blocks away from the privately owned docks. Nate was apparently supposed to meet in the southwest warehouse, alone, with the payment in hand.
Not gonna happen.
Whatever this punk was expecting, he wouldn't get what he wanted. He made a mistake pushing his own weight around and choosing the Drake brothers as easy pickings...
He didn't know they weren't alone in this world.
Upon approaching the docks, Sully sent the kid on ahead to scout for potential roadblocks. Nate assured him this was just a small operation, but Sully wasn't willing to risk it by being careless, not with Sam's life at stake.
The fog mixed with the blackness of the night made it nearly impossible to pick out the structures from this distance. Despite lights piercing through the mist by various doorways of the warehouses, it did nothing to illuminate what might be awaiting them.
When he was starting to worry Nate might have run into trouble, he appeared at his side, breathing hard, eyes wide, shoulders tensed, for all the world emanating someone ready for battle, not a kid who was about to lose his brother.
"So?"
"I only saw four guards," Nate reported in a soft voice. "I'm pretty sure Sam's in the watch tour." Sully's gaze followed Nate's pointing finger to the outline of a lean-to structure at the end of the pier. Nate then asked the unexpected, "Are we using guns?"
Sully looked at him for several long, breathless seconds. Not for the question, but for what it meant. Using guns would be so much easier, and he already had a couple of 9 mm's hidden away in the trunk. No matter what low life they were dealing with, he would have firearms of his own. It just made sense to go in with their own contingency plan.
Sam's words rattled inside his head before Sully could even get a single word out, You put a gun in his hands?
It was in that moment he understood – Nate wasn't a kid anymore, hadn't been for a long time, and he had certainly seen what the underbelly of the world had to offer. Sam knew, all that time ago, what life he was putting on Nate's shoulders. Eventually, the kid would have to hold a gun and kill someone to save his own hide. The problem? Sully wasn't the one who could make that choice, for either of the brothers. It wasn't his place to make it the day where he would hand Nate a firearm and expect him to take a life.
Sully wouldn't go behind Sam's back, not like this, not when he wasn't even present to have a say in the matter.
"No," He eventually answered. "We just have to go about this the quiet way." Nate started to move, and reflexively Sully's hand shot out and snatched the back of his shirt. "Don't kill anyone," He warned. He absolutely didn't want to deal with the aftermath of Nate taking a life while he wasn't even in his right mind. "Don't give them another reason to come after you." He released his grip, reaching for broken planks left strewn around, and handed one off to Nate.
He grimaced, but the kid nodded anyway, then he darted off. Sully squinted through the fog to keep an eye on his kid and found himself mesmerized. Shit, he's fast.
He vaulted over crates as if they were placed there just for him, ducked behind walls, and rolled out of view of an armed goon passing by. His abilities had grown since that day on the rooftop in Cartagena. He didn't just have the capability to climb and dart around his environment – he commanded it, like the world was his oyster and the obstacles before him were nothing more than bothersome inconveniences. Nate crept up behind the man and swung the plank right on the back of his head, effectively knocking him out.
Now it was Sully's turn. He wasn't nearly as graceful, but he wasn't incompetent, either. He ducked around corners, taking his own path that didn't involve leaping over boxes or barriers, and snuck up behind his target. With a brutal swing, the man crumpled at his feet, leaving Sully alone with the kid. Nate came up to him, a smile curling his lips up. Goddammit, did he forget what they were in the middle of? He never had the chance to reprimand him.
They froze as tortured screams sliced the still atmosphere.
Sam.
Nate looked at him, suddenly shrinking down into the teenager that he was, completely unlike the man who'd been ready to go into battle for his brother. Together, they dashed to the lean-to, where another scream originated from, ducking under the windowsill. When Sully peered over the edge, he got a good look at the back of Sam's head. He was tied down in a chair at the wrists and a man in his late thirties paced before him.
"Your brother's late."
"That's him," Nate murmured so quietly Sully scarcely heard him. "That's Peterson... total asshole."
"I told you!" Sam snarled through gritted teeth, "if he's smart enough, he'll be out of the country by now." He barely even managed to finish his sentence before his head snapped back from the collision of Peterson's gun slamming into the side of his head. It was then Sully could see his misshapen nose was steadily dripping blood and he was sporting a dark bruise forming around his left eye.
Sully felt Nate jolt beside him and, before he could blow their cover, snatched the front of his shirt. Nate turned to glare at him, one that was full of acrimony. "What?" He hissed.
"Move!" Sully whispered, pulling Nate around the corner of the building, just as a goon with another gun turned down where they had been seconds before. He had to think of something, quick, before they were surrounded.
"We both know that's bullshit," Peterson sneered. "I know you sold it and tried to sneak off with my share. You little shits owe me."
Sam lurched forward in his bindings. "He's not coming!" He spat. "We don't have that kinda money. So screw off!"
"You're nothing but a filthy thief," Peterson snapped. "Both of you. Anyway, I know he's out there. We've just gotta draw him out..."
Peterson stopped before Sam and, without even batting an eyelash, grabbed the older Drake's middle finger and snapped it back. Sam's wails shot through Sully, leaving him repulsed. Moments later, Sam exploded into quite a tirade of expletives that even startled him. Nate bristled at his side, so Sully grabbed on to him.
"Hold on..." He had to time this just right...
Another snap rang in his ears. Peterson yanked back on his ring finger, cutting off Sam's storm of choice words, leaving him sobbing and quivering in the chair. Nate started trembling beside him, sucking in ragged breaths, as though he could feel his brother's agony.
"Sully..."
"Do you trust me?" He hissed.
Nate stared at him for a painstakingly long time, which, in reality, only last seconds. He gave a minute nod just in the nick of time. The henchmen rounded the corner and before he could raise the alarm, Sully swept up to meet him halfway, sending knuckles to the temple and a knee to the groin, toppling the man in a matter of seconds.
Sully turned back to the kid, who looked about ready to leap into the room. Sully went to him, wrapping his fingers around the kid's bicep. "Tell me about the artifact. Who's the buyer?" Nate gaped at him. "Come on, kid, you have to give me something to work with."
"It's a, uh... it's a Spanish scabbard from the sixteenth century..." Nate swallowed. "I dunno who the buyer is. Some rich American, I think."
Perfect. He could work with that. Sully channeled his fury into Victor goddamn Sullivan, the man most people in this line of work knew not to screw around with, to not turn their back on him, because he sure as well wouldn't be the one watching it if something went sideways, and hauled Nate into the interrogation room, throwing the boy down at his feet.
Peterson turned, surprise crossing his features, then glared at Sully. He was too far away to stop the lowlife from pressing his gun to Sam's temple. "What the hell is going on?"
His demand was echoed by Sam's broken whispered, "Nathan?" He pulled at his restraints to no avail, and then turned a look of betrayal onto Sully.
Sully ignored it.
"I'm sorry, Sam..." Nate whimpered.
"Shut up!" Sully roared. Everyone looked to him, stunned silence replacing the chaos ensuing seconds before. That was better. Get control of the room, even if there was a fool waving a gun around. "I'm here to take him back." Sully pointed a finger at the other Drake, his booming voice filling the space.
"Oh yea?" Peterson challenged. "And who the hell are you?"
Sully stepped closer. "These punks belong to me. My boss wasn't too pleased when he heard you got a hold of him before he got his chance."
Peterson hesitated. "Who are you working for?" He asked.
Sully narrowed his eyes. If he played his cards just right...
"That piece of junk you sent these idiots after?" He shot an accusatory glower in the Drake's direction. Nate was trembling, watching him with utter treachery and Sam mirrored his brother's emotions. No. Focus.
If anything, Sully's features hardened to stone. "It's a fake." The brothers gaped at him then at each other, startled, and Sully prayed they wouldn't say anything. All they needed to do was keep their mouths shut and let him weasel his way out of their own wreckage.
"What?" Peterson pressed the barrel of the gun further into Sam's temple. "You shits! I'm going to ki-"
"You tried to rip off my boss, and now he's pissed. He wants to deal with these punks himself, and then he's going to deal with you next." He hauled Nate up to his feet by the scruff of his shirt. He could feel the kid shivering uncontrollably in his grasp.
Just work with me, kid...
Sully saw doubts clouding Peterson's features. The beauty of it was that Sully didn't need to go into further detail. The less he said, the more this man's imagination would run wild. Let him imagine the worst-case scenario, let him believe Sully's lies. "Is this for real?"
"You really want to test him?" Sully drifted closer, to the point where he could wrap his fingers around the barrel of the gun and direct it away from Sam. "My advice is to stay outta this. They're not worth the trouble. In fact, if I were you, I'd run out the door right now."
Time started to slow down, and Sully felt a drop of sweat trickle down the back of his neck. "Cut him loose," He barked at Nate and pushed him in the direction of the chair. The kid scrambled to comply, pulling out a pocketknife, and started to cut at the zip ties around his brother's wrists.
Everything turned for the worse.
The guard Sully knocked out groaned awake and in his brief disorientation, Peterson used his free hand to land a solid punch across Sully's cheek. He staggered back from the hit as the fourth goon that he made the mistake of not knocking out prior to the confrontation entered the building, helping his friend off the ground. Then, he charged at Sully, and the smuggler prepared to intercept his attacker.
They never made contact. Nate tackled him to the ground, sending one punch after another. Sully turned his focus onto Peterson, who was bringing the gun back into play. Sully went for him, grabbing the deadly weapon and struggled to get it pointed anywhere but at the three of them. He bared his jaw, straining, when the gun shot off. Everything inside of him seized up when he heard Sam's cut off scream.
No, no, no...
Peterson then fell to the ground, gripping his thigh with a fresh bullet hole, blood seeping out between his fingers. Sully turned sharply to find Nate knelt down next to his brother, with the final thug crippled on the ground. From what Sully could gather, Sam launched himself at one of the assailants, landing on his damaged hand, and Nate came to his rescue. A pained grimace twisted his features and sweat dripped down from his hairline.
"We need to get outta here." He stooped down to help Nate pull Sam up off the floorboards.
"You-" Sam shuddered, pushing away from his younger brother, lips trembling from the exertion of his actions. "You idiot. You shoulda stayed away."
Nate turned a glare on him. "Shut up, would you? You're stupider than I thought if you think I was just gonna leave you."
Sully couldn't help but silently agree – there was no way were they going to leave behind one of their own. Together, they navigated their way back to the car, with Sam's uninjured limb slung around Nate's shoulders. Sully was on his other side in an attempt to assist Sam from jostling his dislocated fingers further. The only thought permeating Sully's mind was the younger man's labored breathing and clammy skin. He would live, Sully knew that, but his heart was beating a mile an hour because, goddammit, they'd nearly lost him.
Sully drove faster than was legal, desperate to get them on the other side of town. They didn't need to leave the country, but he wanted to put distance between them and whoever else might come looking for the boys, without also leaving city limits. Sam needed medical attention and the neighboring city was well over two hours away. He sent a glance in the rear-view mirror, and his heart lurched. Sam's head rested on Nate's lap, pale, shaking, and as for Nate...
His gaze was transfixed directly ahead of him. Fatigue clung to him and grim dismay was set in the lines of his face. Somehow, he aged beyond his almost nineteen years of life in just one night. He nearly lost his brother, and suddenly Sam was depending on him.
Awe hell...
"It's gonna be alright, kid," Sully told him earnestly. "We got him back." Nate turned a blank look on him. The only acknowledgment he received was a faint nod of the head, and he let out a breath. "Just hang in there. He'll be okay."
* * * * *
Man, I love making Sully an absolute badass.
The reason I'm uploading a day early is because I'm going to be gone all day Saturday, so I figured I would get ahead of the curve and release the chapter.
Yet again, I don't have a lot to say about the chapter itself. I'm trying really hard to just not impose myself into the story with these author's notes. In the end, it's for you guys, as much fun as it was to write this fanfic for myself.
With that, I bid you all a good Saturday, and as usual, if you've enjoyed the journey so far, I'd really appreciate if you guys gave the story some love. :) For me, this is chapter will be out seven weeks from now, but it'll help with the motivation.
~ Sic Parvis Magna