its too 6 am for fancy song lyrics

[cyphered]

Date & Time: December 1st
Location: West Wing, Mutiny-Lockdown Station
Characters: Nathan Drake and Charlie Cutter
Summary: what the fuck is happening
Warnings: uh.

[Its been less than twenty four hours and Nate has already had enough of whatever the hell is happening. He's stressed, he's exhausted, he's been met with several different types of strange (actual strange, not just "ancient myth" strange) and he's about ready to go back and curl up next to a fire on that broken down rail cart he had come from.

No, that wasn't quite right. Too dramatic -- too untimely. Slow your roll, Nate. Keep it together.

He didn't imagine this talk with Charlie would fix anything, but he can't help but grasp for something a bit more familiar now that he's been thrown into this chaos without any knowledge to back him up. Its new, unusual, and extremely uncomfortable.

Also, he was nearly fatally shot and almost caught frostbite. Nathan Drake needs a break.

Despite being soaked to the skin in blood on his left side, he waves off whichever guard gives him a look at the door. He hadn't expected to...well, have visitation with Charlie. It had been his expectation that he would need to do some sneaking and get him the hell out of dodge. This...he didn't know what this was.

So the second he locks eyes with Charlie, he sort of holds his hands out, forgetting momentarily that he'll probably need to wave Charlie's reaction to his state of dress as well. With nothing to do with them, he gestures to Charlie's head to try and break the ice.]

Jesus Charlie, did you install a mirror?

[Nailed it.]

Comments

[alittlesweptup]

Hold on. [Sorry Nate, you don't get off the hook that easy. Charlie straightens abruptly, smarmy ass expression shifting abruptly into something more pinched - more serious.]

You came here to see if you could help me out, right?

[cyphered]

Thought you didn't want my help.

[Not that he wasn't...planning on giving it anyway, but he's obviously not going to say that. But since Charlie's gotten serious, he takes a second to remain seated to listen.]

"Under control", yeah?

[alittlesweptup]

[Yeah, well.]

Then do me a favor and see if you can't get in to see Chloe, would you? They've got her banged up in solitary and have for the past few days.

[Which is, for all his joking and insistence on shit being under control, the first time anything in his face or tone really suggests it might be otherwise.]

[cyphered]

[U...gh. There's a notable furrow in Nate's brow -- subtle, like he's trying to hide it. But he's never been a very good liar. He doesn't want to see Chloe right now -- in fact, she's one of the last people he wants to see, surpassed only by Harry Flynn and his handler.

Despite all that, his eyelids lower and he offers his friend a disarming smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.]

Days, huh? Trying to get me killed?

[alittlesweptup]

[Charlie echoes that smile right back at him, right down to the line of tension between his eyebrows.]

Yeah, well. Have to get rid of the competition somehow, right? [A beat, then:] Seriously though, it's been a while.

[cyphered]

[Sounds like something Flynn would say.

He blinks back that train of thought before it gets too far, and swallows down the ugly paranoid beast threatening to claw up out of his stomach and into his throat.

He's not smiling anymore.]

Yeah. Alright. No worries, mate.

[alittlesweptup]

[Good; he shouldn't be smiling. So Charlie just gives him a curt nod, muscle in his cheek jumping under the pressure of his set jaw.]

Thanks. [He knows she's a tough bird. A few days in a quiet room can't a have left her too badly off. But it's still solitary and they've spent the past year in one another's near constant company. A few days incommunicado feels like a bigger deal than it should never mind the part where it's been weeks since he had a normal conversation with Chloe. So yeah, maybe he's worried. But that's not something he'd say to either Roslyn or Sonya. That just leaves this.]

It's good to have you back, by the way. Sorry it's all a bit of a shit show at the moment.

[And that's all there really is, isn't it?]

[cyphered]

Means I arrived right on schedule, doesn't it?

[He stands up out of his chair, pushing it back to mask the exhausted exhale that comes out of him. This was shaping up to be a long day very quickly.

He'd need to do some quick reading if he was going to talk to Chloe.]

Let me know when you're done playing cops and robbers, eh?

[alittlesweptup]

[That gets a mock salute, fingers touching briefly at his temple.]

I'll try to work keeping you updated into my busy schedule.