North || Nathan Drake

06

The house was a two story building of sand coloured stone tucked behind small Spanish shops in a side alley. The ground floor serving as the shops and the second acting as an apartment that Dante had been gifted by his mother for his nineteenth and let out to various contacts in their treasure hunting world. Chloe was the one currently renting it, not that she knew that it was Dante who actually owned it. (It was being let out under his mother's name via several contractors). It had three bedrooms with adjoining bathrooms, a living room with a bar but no tv and a kitchen.

They were seated in the living room. Nate leaning against the bar and Chloe cross legged on the chasie longue while Dante was slumped in a leather armchair. Sully perched on the edge of a matching leather sofa, the coffee table holding their glasses. Chloe had changed from her dress into a comfy vest and sweats and Dante had lost his jacket. His camera on the table as he swirled the soda around his glass blandly. The walls of the living room were a warm moss green with bright yellow curtains and brown leather furniture to match the stained wood of the bar. On the wall facing the large windows was a series blown up photographs of places around the world. They were generic photos, just touristy enough to seem like basic decor, but with a artsy twist that made them more homely. Dante had picked them with care once upon a time. He had taken them at one point.

One of the photos was of a bustling street at golden hour in Madrid. Full of colours all set with a golden amber tone. It was taken at height, from a roof if Dante remembered correctly. The second photo was from a ruined castle in the Uk. Gothic and bleak in contrast to the photo before it. There was no people in that photo and mist swirled around the grey stones. The third Photo was a neon lit street slick with rain and dark with night in South Korea. Bright and slightly blurred from rain. The fourth was a museum in Boston USA, the rise of dawn tinging the sky grey over the building. Nate was frowning at this photo, eyes far away.

"I found my cross in a crypt in Genoa", Chloe was saying. "But I didn't know it was a key to a much bigger fortune". She twirled the blue cross in her hands. "Sully knew. Doesn't say what happens after we turn the keys". She put the cross down and ran her fingers across the pages of the journal. "Trust in your fellow man for one will go to heaven and the other to hell". 

"Apparently I'm going to hell anyway, so I vote that route", Dante voiced. 

A bottled popped and Nate poured out four glasses of wine. "Well that's ironic since the whole point in having two crosses was that the eighteen didn't trust each other", he spoke as he handed them all a glass. 

"Well, good thing they didn't, or we wouldn't be here, right?" Sully asked as he raised his glass. "Like one big happy family. Toast?" He stood up. Dante followed, trying not to frown at his glass. He never really liked wine, or the taste of much alcohol really, not that he was going to let them know that. 

"Alright", he grinned. "Arriba, abajo, al centro y pa' dentro". Then he, Chloe and Sully were throwing their glasses back and sipping the wine. Nate following with a bit of confusion at the Spanish. 

Dante tried not to pull a face at the wine and decided to translate for him. "It means 'Above, Down, to the centre and inside'. Sort of an unofficial saying of those in our line of work". He shrugged and Nate nodded before drinking all if wine in one long drink. 

"Whoa Kid slow down. This is vintage Rioja, alright? You might just want to taste it, savour it. Or chug it down like you're on spring break, all good", Sully let his voice die into a mutter as Nate finished his glass. Dante chuckled into his own glass, trying not to grimace at the taste. 

The night stretched on and the bottles emptied until there were three wine bottled lined up on the bar top. Dante was sleepily swishing his wine around his glass. His third that he had made last while the rest of them kept drinking. Soon enough they were drunk enough that they didn't notice that he was still mostly sober. Jet lag exhaustion doing it's job of making his sleepiness seem more like the effect of alcohol. He was slumped in his seat, glass in one hand. Sully lying on the sofa and Chloe still on the Chaise longue. Drunk, but not to the ridiculous level of sickness yet. 

"I'm going to get another drink", Nate volunteered as he stood up. The man definitely drunk but walking in a straight line. Dante was impressed. As soon as he left the room, a ringtone blared. It took a exhausted second for the beginning of Dare by The Gorillaz to register in Dante's mind. With a groan, he pulled the phone from his pocket and heaved himself to his feet. The word on the screen not filling him with joy. 

"Excuse me", he muttered to the other two as he left the room and shut the living room door behind him. Standing in the dark and sunlight hallway beyond. The grey-blue walls only lit by the light from the door cracks and the light from the stairs below where the wine cellar was kept. "Abuelo", he greeted as he answered. In the silence it took for Santiago Moncada senior to answer, he could hear Nate shuffling down below. 

"Dante", came the grumbling reply. Spanish slipping through worn lips. "Have you seen the news?" 

"Yes. You're going to give away the family fortune". Dante sighed. He didn't really care for the fortune. He had't had access to any of his father's money since he was eighteen. Only his own earned, stolen, found (in tombs), or left to him by his mother, money was what he used now. So upon seeing newspapers with headlines about the famous Moncada fortune going to various charities, hadn't really affected him. 

"Are you not going to argue for your inheritance?" 

"No. I have had seven years to come to terms with being written out of the will. Give it all the charity and see if I care", Dante scoffed. Then his voice changed, becoming harder. "Why are you calling now? The last time you called was at the death of my mother. What do you want Abuelo?" 

Moncada Senior sighed deeply and it ratted down the line. "I don't trust my son". 

Dante snorted. "No surprise there. Dad has always been untrustworthy". Still, despite that, he did love his father and he knew that his father loved him. Even with all their clashes, there was some good memories. Dante was proud that he could acknowledge that now. 

"I fear he may have me killed before I give the money away". 

"What? Are you asking for help? We never got along Abuelo. I don't wish you dead but I won't save your life either". Dante leaned his back against the cold wall and listed to the faint mummer of voices from the living room. 

"I am not asking you to save my life. I called to tell you that if I die prematurely, before the money is given away, then it is yours. My will leaves everything to you". 

Dante's breath hitched in surprise. "Why?" 

"Because I would much rather it go to you, even with your sins, than a murderer". 

"So you finally admit that liking the same gender is a lesser sin than murder?" Dante chuckled without humour. 

"It is a lesser sin than patricide. If I die soon then it is yours. Don't waste it". Then the line cut off and Dante could hear the drone of the dial tone. "Fuck", he breathed as he leaned his head back against the wall. Emotions surprisingly silent in his chest. He thought he should feel something, but all he felt was more exhaustion. 

"That sounded like a tough phone call", Nate's voice broke him from his mind. He lifted his head to see the other man's silhouette standing at the top of the stairs, half lit by the cellar light. 

"It was an exhausting phone call", Dante sighed as he pushed himself off the wall. "I am going to bed. Tell the other's I will see them in the morning". Then he was disappearing into the bedroom he had claimed earlier. Nate's eyes on his back as the door clicked shut. 

unedited 

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