exsiliumlogs | [closed] cashin in my bad luck

Entry tags:

[closed] cashin in my bad luck

Date & Time: On the eve of this post
Location: Nathan Drake's place
Characters: Nathan Drake and Chloe Frazer
Summary: Belated thanks that involve a lot of beating around the bush
Warnings: awkward

[Penning up the dogs wasn't easy -- they were young, rambunctious, and full of energy. Nate hadn't bothered to try until the sun had neared waning point. He couldn't imagine Chloe wanting to be out past dark in this weather if she could help it.

Its a mostly empty one bedroom, and the bedroom is missing its door -- both dogs can be heard occasionally whining behind the couch that had been shoved in the doorway to prevent escape. They also occasionally appear over the back of it, pushing one another out of the way with ears perked straight up and paws awkwardly hanging over to try and get a better look at what their new best friend is doing.

For now, he's sitting in the only other plush chair in the room with his feet propped up on his table, drumming his fingers on the arm of it with one hand and holding his chin with the other. He's pulled over one of the wooden chairs from the dinette set and set it next to the table occupied by his feet. Occasionally, he glances at his tablet, wondering if he should just tell her to forget it. He'd run around trying to get food for the dogs, and part of that had included lugging heavy tools to exchange for it. He has more than enough food to manage for himself and his pets at least, but it had come at the price of haggling with Kang.

The dogs will hear Chloe before Nate does, and begin to sound the alarm from their prison. So deep in thought, he doesn't attempt to silence them -- simply lets his eyes slide toward the door in expectation as his fingers begin to tap out a slightly quicker tempo.]

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[Talk about raw and unpleasant. He makes a face that he doesn't quite catch in time to stop, but forces it even in just a beat afterwards anyway. By now, he mostly understood that Chloe had grown -- not just from interactions at home, but here as well. He had done enough reading backwards in both her little Christmas gift and on his own to know all of that.

It didn't make the strange second-place feeling go away. That feeling of not being good enough. She had gone with Flynn and it had nearly killed him before his arrival when just before they had talked about running off together. Now she had run off with Charlie instead.

Well, it had been a nice thought, once. But that was all it ever was.

The grin comes back with less teeth.]

Nah. You know me -- I like to keep my murders quiet and out of my social circle.

[If anyone deserved Chloe's more pleasant company, it was Charlie.]

Edited 2014-01-06 23:51 (UTC)

[The shift in his expression doesn't go unnoticed. It's hard (after months of Nate knowing more-- remembering more) to keep in mind the differences between them now: that he's still stuck in something she's had years to nudge off. Not entirely, of course. Never that much, so that she would tug at him a bit less than the other lads or smile at him differently than she used to whenever the team caught up again over drinks or for a job. Partially out of respect for Elena, partially because it'd hurt too much otherwise, knowing exactly where she stood.

That the tables have turned in some ways hasn't sunk in before now.

Maybe the middle of the night wasn't the best time to go about doing this.]

Listen, Nate-- [If some things are better left unsaid, they're both shit at adhering to the rule.]

[Somehow, trying to acknowledge that Chloe might harbor reservations hurts even more, so he lifts a hand and waves it a few times.]

Forget it, OK? I get it.

[He doesn't get it.

She keeps talking about marriage with Elena, and then breathing about their tryst in the same breath. He had let Elena go as best he could when it came up and time for it (and after she had left him behind as well), and he had thought he had a nice no-fancy-titles no-strings sort of plan in place with Chloe.

He sighs out the follow up without realizing it. Maybe if he says it enough, everything will make better sense to him.]

I get it.

[This wasn't the conversation he was planning on having tonight.]

All right. [When it isn't. When they're not. When he's not.

An entire relationship-- an entire history-- built up on brushing off the truth. Puts things in perspective, really.]

So, what was so important that you wanted to pass it off instead of just sending it via Victor? [Segues are distracting, right? They'll get the job done before this conversation gets that much worse. Hopefully. ]

[By this point, Nate just wants to turn around and go back inside and fall asleep. In truth, he hadn't expected Chloe to visit -- he had mostly been joking when he asked. It all went back to how they operated around one another.

But when Chloe jostles him out of his own head, he realizes he had been in such a rush to try and keep Chloe from darting off that he had left what he needed inside.

Shit.]

Uh.

[He let's his foot fall and awkwardly reaches for the doorhandle behind his back.]

Wait here, OK?

Mmm. [Chloe tucks her arms behind her back, patiently rocking back on her heels to wait while he fishes up whatever it is she's come here to find.

Amazing how easy it is to be patient when the subject of unpleasant emotions comes up.]

Think fast.

[When Nate reappears, its with a black wooden box that he proceeds to toss to her. Its latched, though not well (obviously a last minute sort of thing), and has some weight to it. He has something else in his other hand, but he doesn't bring it into view.]

Fashionably late, as usual.

[Inside sits a set of five throwing knives, obviously locally crafted judging by the carvings. The opportunity to step away from her allowed him to bring back his easy grin, like nothing ever happened.]

I got a favor to ask too, if you don't mind. Nothing ridiculous, promise.

Ah...[Her face scrunches up once she opens the box, nose crinkling at the sight of some very....very local knives trying to pretend to be something else. The smile she cracks comes just a moment later.

And then fades.].

Please don't tell me it's about the bar.

No--the what?

[Whatever train of thought he had was, of course, lost in that moment. He saw the smile, so there is no distress -- only confusion.]

Victor has a-- he's been trying to start up a business of his own. [Dodging the bullet wouldn't do either of them any good. She tucks the box away in her pocket, ] I didn't exactly bite into it the way he'd been hoping for.

[And he asked Chloe before he asked him? He doesn't vocalize his offense.]

It's not just a bar.

[Not a question, nor is he really fishing for confirmation. Sully twenty years younger doesn't mean he's changed.

Nate retakes his position with his foot propped up while leaning on the doorframe, arms folding after he drops a small napsack of...something on the ground next to him.]

What made you turn it down?

No. Nothing is ever 'just' when it comes to him, is it? [She smiles, thins it out while her fingers worm their way down to the lowest points of those pockets.] Much like someone else I know.

And I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a lot of cleanup that needs doing in the aftermath of our little party up there.

As a matter of fact, I didn't.

[Nate understands the idea of inherited reaponsibility, despite how much he tries to run from most forms of it.]

Chloe, do you know how many times I've been asked about Charlie and how he's doing?

[He has an idea that she does, considering how many times he and Charlie simply don't adhere to their daily check in.]

I havent, aside from Lowell. Honestly, it looks to me like everyone's forgotten about you guys.

No, it's not about that. [There's less worry for their necks these day on her end; with everyone distracted it's not hard to see how flared tempers died off quick as anything.]

I meant everything else: the sorting out guidelines and making sure no one acts like a bloody idiot or sends texts to the United Earth for a laugh, etcetera etcetera.

[Nate makes a face, as if he's wondering if he's hearing her correctly.]

Sorting out guidelines? Babysitting? You?

[He realizes in a few beats that she's serious, and an amused sort of grin will appear on his face for a half a second before it flickers away into something neutral.

And everyone always yelled at him for trying to be a hero.]

You've changed a lot. Y'know, I thought that whole mutiny deal was a one off, but you're really serious about this aren't you?

Trying to keep us all from getting killed out there is not babysitting. [Christ, she hasn't changed that much, has she?]

If it were just about "us" -- [He makes finger quotes."] -- you wouldn't be talking about clean up. You would be talking about running away.

[He leans in a bit, and a knowing smile graces his features for just a moment. This isnt really something he finds more than passively amusing. In fact, if anything, he might pity her for being so obviously invested.]

"Dance with the one who brought you", right?

[His lean earns him a quick (careful) shove back, her palm at the center of his chest to keep him literally at arm's reach. For god's sake the bastard hasn't got room to gloat--not in her eyes when differences in moral obligation had contributed to the wedge that drove them apart. Twice. ]

Could you possibly not gloat for once in your life?

[Nate's reaction is swift, his larger hand snapping up to grab her wrist. He doesn't squeeze for more than a second, but if they're going to have this conversation, then damn it they're going to have it.]

OK, fine. But give me a little credit here and hear me out.

[He doesn't try and close the distance. He knows better.]

I have the benefit of recent perspective. You're going in over your head, if you haven't gone in already.

[He isn't just concerned for her -- there is Charlie to consider, with how inseparable they are. He knows by now that Victor is too young to be looking out for anyone but...well, best not think too hard about that.]

You don't owe these people anything.

[His palm is warm against her wrist and it's the most contact shared between them in years-- the most she's permitted them to share in years-- and it means she's quick to pull (gently) from his grip in addition to his advice. ]

You don't understand. There's nothing else out there-- nowhere left to run to. There's no line between us and them and if nothing's being done we'll be back on the moon before we can blink. Or on the other end of yet another attack from the United Earth.

[And it's not supposed to be like this. Nate stopped caring, stopped seeing anything but whatever goal he was chasing at the time. Concern now-- for however briefly it lasts-- is near torture. ]

Whatever you think I owe or I don't, this is how survival works now.

[He lets her go and lets his hand fall back to his side. Nate listens without interruption, though with a light furrow of his brow. Having time to stop and look at what was going on wasn't pleasant, and he'd trade anything to get back to what suddenly seems like a simpler life back home.

He's stopped warlords before -- he's nearly died more than he cares to admit, and he's laid his life down for people before. For people who didn't deserve it. But this is different. Right? He doesn't know these people, doesn't care to know them -- they're not lining his pocket, and they're not watching his back. They're not giving him purpose, intellectually stimulating him--

Was it really about survival? Is that what life boiled down to now? Being cornered into fighting for the rest of their life?]

Chloe...

[The weight around his neck suddenly seems heavier than usual.]

[Whatever it is that he's gearing up to say, she doesn't know if she wants to hear it. There's barely a break between where he trails off and she starts:]

Come on, sweetheart. [It's all earnest affection even if the lightheartedness is forced.] It's not so bad.

You're the one always playing hero, remember? You'll do fine.

Yeah? Well, maybe I learned my lesson for once.

[His arms go from his pockets to fold across his chest. Chloe was a nice teacher, even if her behavior was confusing him now.

He almost says that, but is quickly reminded of everything that had gone on since his arrival. Her claims of the future.]

Playing the hero hasn't gotten me anything but shit so far. It nearly killed you and Elena.

[--too much. He goes tight lipped and quiet, straightening up on the wall a little. He couldn't admit that there was appeal in the new frontier, so to speak. A world that shared similar history, and yet history that was so different at the same time. But at what cost this time?]

[Between the two of them it's always been her convincing him: that he had to trust her, that they were on the same side, that she wasn't the one responsible for everything that happened to him to the point that it always came down to the intervention of a third party capable of vouching for her. She was the grifter and he was the mark-- to his mind, she assumes-- and it was all a matter of how good the pitch was or how much help he needed to get what he wanted that cinched it in the end.

But this-- like every last detail of their current conversation-- is different, and Chloe has no comeback, no pitch good enough in the face of his own. Christ, he's too bloody good at it for his own good. For hers too.

So it takes a long minute of silence with her eyes set on him (then elsewhere and back again) for Chloe to say anything at all. ]

Whatever happened to me was my own fault, Nate. [Even the troubles that came from trusting him. ]

[In part, he agrees. In part, he disagrees. So many things could have gone differently if he had stopped being such a nice guy once in a while.

But that was the joke right? "Nice guys finish last". Apparently, so did everyone who associated with them. Either way, its become clear that he isnt going to change her mind -- not entirely surprising, after he had seen how long she had been here.

No running away this time.]

Maybe I want to take credit for the screw ups this time. Can you let me have something?

[Bring it back to humor.]

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