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greenstickered2014-07-30 03:31 am
camalyng) wrote in greenstickered2014-07-30 03:31 am
Uncharted: weightless as a stone
Title: weightless as a stone
What: Uncharted fanfiction - short story
Rating: PG13 (language)
Words: ~1000
Summary: "If you let those bastards win - after this - I will never bloody forgive you." And Chloe won't forgive Charlie for saying that.
Notes: Title from "Hearts Without Chains" by Ellie Goulding. Partially inspired by one of![[tumblr.com profile]](https://www.tumblr.com/favicon.ico)
rhiannon42's tags on yocalio's UC3 gifset: #also listen to someone besides charlie he gives terrible life advice
Whenever you fly anywhere, you generally expect to be the most antsy person in the queue. This time, however, it's Chloe whose scowl and stiffness get her randomly searched at security, even though you're the one who can't go through the metal detector because of the wheelchair and crutches.
"You alright?" you ask, once she's through.
She doesn't look up from repacking her bag. "I'm brown. I'm used to it."
"We're in Syria," you point out, because you're pretty sure the racism excuse doesn't work in the Middle bloody East with plenty of people browner than her around. "No, I meant in general. You've been on edge since we got out of the hospital."
Longer than that, really. Since London. It just got worse after Talbot hit you with those drugs. But you'd expected her to relax at least a little since you had to bail on Nate.
She shakes her head, her lips pursed. You let it drop for now, and just affectionately tap her ankle with one crutch, but it's not until you're waiting at the gate and she's looking at her tablet that some of the tension starts to go from around her eyes.
"Is that Nate?" you ask, almost dropping a crutch as you lean over to look.
She holds it up for you: There's a message from Sully saying they've landed in Yemen.
"That's good, then," you say.
With a snort, Chloe disconnects from the wifi and tucks the tablet away. "It's one less thing to worry about; it's not good." You raise an eyebrow, and she elaborates: "It means he's one step closer to whatever that order's after."
"Which is good," you say slowly. "He's got to beat those bastards."
Her hands ball into fists on her thighs. "No, he doesn't."
You sigh. "Just because you're in this business for the money and excitement instead of the joy of discovery -"
"Don't you dare pull that bullshit on me when we both know you all but told him to get revenge!"
The lounge goes deathly quiet. Chloe looks around, her lip curling, and when she speaks again, her voice is strained into a deliberate undertone. "I want to see them pay too," she says. "But it's not worth it when things like this," she gestures to your cast, "happen, or worse."
"Chloe - bright eyes," you add, appeasing. "If you're gonna make an omelette, you've gotta crack a few eggs."
"He doesn't even need to make this omelette," she snaps. Her eyes wander over your hands, and she frowns. "Or maybe I'm just getting tired of the taste."
You pause, watching her for a moment to see if she'll explain, but she doesn't.
"You're not thinking of retiring, are you?"
She shakes her head. "No: I love it too much. I'm just tired of watching the people I care about get hurt - watching them hurt each other."
You wince. "Chloe -"
"I know it wasn't your fault this time," she says, holding up a hand. "But I've seen it happen before. Hell, I've stepped in before."
You fold your hands in your lap, wishing you could make her unsee it. You'd known she cares about you, about Nate, but no wonder she's so upset if it's not the first time.
"So you think something's going to happen to Nate and Sully," you say softly.
"Something's already happened," she says, nodding to your hands. "I don't want to be watching when something worse happens."
"And that's why you're upset," you conclude. It's tempting to call her paranoid, to point out that in this business you face danger every day, but you know it won't help. She's got a right to worry.
Chloe rolls her eyes. "No, I'm also furious," she says. "At that crazy bitch and her black ops bastard, at Victor, at Nate, at you for bloody encouraging him."
"I think he would've gone on whether or not I said anything," you point out. "He's determined, our Drake."
"He's reckless," she mutters, her eyes flashing. "He's throwing himself at something that's clearly been hidden for a reason, up against a group who makes people turn against each other instead of just killing them... He's even more in over his head than I was that time I thought doublecrossing a -" she glances around, checking if anyone's listening in, but people seem to have returned to their own affairs now, "- a warlord was a good idea."
You feel like you've learned more about Chloe in the last five minutes than in the last five months. It's a little dizzying, and also a little hard to argue with, when you fundamentally disagree on whether this quest is worth it and her fear's justified by her own experiences.
"At least he's got Sully with him," you say instead. "He'll look out for him."
"I know," she says grimly, and you remember his gun to your head, her hands along your jaw. She sighs, checking her watch. "Remind me to call Elena once you top up your phone. God knows she won't be able to talk any sense into him, but at least she's another pair of eyes."
"Will do," you reply, though you have to wonder why she wants to hear about any problems if she's so against seeing them in front of her. "Honestly, between the three of them, I reckon they can find it."
Chloe stares at you in disbelief, then shakes her head. "Even if they do, I'm done," she says. "No more worldwide searching for lost cities. Even if Nate decides he's found Atlantis, even if someone's paying top dollar. They're probably all full of monsters anyway."
You can't help but smile at that non sequitur. "How do you figure?"
She frowns, probably annoyed that you don't believe her. Sorry if you can buy Iram a lot easier than monsters. "Long story."
"We've got a five hour flight ahead of us."
She reaches over, tugs one of your hands free, and holds on. "I'm still mad at you."
You squeeze her hand. "I know."
What: Uncharted fanfiction - short story
Rating: PG13 (language)
Words: ~1000
Summary: "If you let those bastards win - after this - I will never bloody forgive you." And Chloe won't forgive Charlie for saying that.
Notes: Title from "Hearts Without Chains" by Ellie Goulding. Partially inspired by one of
Whenever you fly anywhere, you generally expect to be the most antsy person in the queue. This time, however, it's Chloe whose scowl and stiffness get her randomly searched at security, even though you're the one who can't go through the metal detector because of the wheelchair and crutches.
"You alright?" you ask, once she's through.
She doesn't look up from repacking her bag. "I'm brown. I'm used to it."
"We're in Syria," you point out, because you're pretty sure the racism excuse doesn't work in the Middle bloody East with plenty of people browner than her around. "No, I meant in general. You've been on edge since we got out of the hospital."
Longer than that, really. Since London. It just got worse after Talbot hit you with those drugs. But you'd expected her to relax at least a little since you had to bail on Nate.
She shakes her head, her lips pursed. You let it drop for now, and just affectionately tap her ankle with one crutch, but it's not until you're waiting at the gate and she's looking at her tablet that some of the tension starts to go from around her eyes.
"Is that Nate?" you ask, almost dropping a crutch as you lean over to look.
She holds it up for you: There's a message from Sully saying they've landed in Yemen.
"That's good, then," you say.
With a snort, Chloe disconnects from the wifi and tucks the tablet away. "It's one less thing to worry about; it's not good." You raise an eyebrow, and she elaborates: "It means he's one step closer to whatever that order's after."
"Which is good," you say slowly. "He's got to beat those bastards."
Her hands ball into fists on her thighs. "No, he doesn't."
You sigh. "Just because you're in this business for the money and excitement instead of the joy of discovery -"
"Don't you dare pull that bullshit on me when we both know you all but told him to get revenge!"
The lounge goes deathly quiet. Chloe looks around, her lip curling, and when she speaks again, her voice is strained into a deliberate undertone. "I want to see them pay too," she says. "But it's not worth it when things like this," she gestures to your cast, "happen, or worse."
"Chloe - bright eyes," you add, appeasing. "If you're gonna make an omelette, you've gotta crack a few eggs."
"He doesn't even need to make this omelette," she snaps. Her eyes wander over your hands, and she frowns. "Or maybe I'm just getting tired of the taste."
You pause, watching her for a moment to see if she'll explain, but she doesn't.
"You're not thinking of retiring, are you?"
She shakes her head. "No: I love it too much. I'm just tired of watching the people I care about get hurt - watching them hurt each other."
You wince. "Chloe -"
"I know it wasn't your fault this time," she says, holding up a hand. "But I've seen it happen before. Hell, I've stepped in before."
You fold your hands in your lap, wishing you could make her unsee it. You'd known she cares about you, about Nate, but no wonder she's so upset if it's not the first time.
"So you think something's going to happen to Nate and Sully," you say softly.
"Something's already happened," she says, nodding to your hands. "I don't want to be watching when something worse happens."
"And that's why you're upset," you conclude. It's tempting to call her paranoid, to point out that in this business you face danger every day, but you know it won't help. She's got a right to worry.
Chloe rolls her eyes. "No, I'm also furious," she says. "At that crazy bitch and her black ops bastard, at Victor, at Nate, at you for bloody encouraging him."
"I think he would've gone on whether or not I said anything," you point out. "He's determined, our Drake."
"He's reckless," she mutters, her eyes flashing. "He's throwing himself at something that's clearly been hidden for a reason, up against a group who makes people turn against each other instead of just killing them... He's even more in over his head than I was that time I thought doublecrossing a -" she glances around, checking if anyone's listening in, but people seem to have returned to their own affairs now, "- a warlord was a good idea."
You feel like you've learned more about Chloe in the last five minutes than in the last five months. It's a little dizzying, and also a little hard to argue with, when you fundamentally disagree on whether this quest is worth it and her fear's justified by her own experiences.
"At least he's got Sully with him," you say instead. "He'll look out for him."
"I know," she says grimly, and you remember his gun to your head, her hands along your jaw. She sighs, checking her watch. "Remind me to call Elena once you top up your phone. God knows she won't be able to talk any sense into him, but at least she's another pair of eyes."
"Will do," you reply, though you have to wonder why she wants to hear about any problems if she's so against seeing them in front of her. "Honestly, between the three of them, I reckon they can find it."
Chloe stares at you in disbelief, then shakes her head. "Even if they do, I'm done," she says. "No more worldwide searching for lost cities. Even if Nate decides he's found Atlantis, even if someone's paying top dollar. They're probably all full of monsters anyway."
You can't help but smile at that non sequitur. "How do you figure?"
She frowns, probably annoyed that you don't believe her. Sorry if you can buy Iram a lot easier than monsters. "Long story."
"We've got a five hour flight ahead of us."
She reaches over, tugs one of your hands free, and holds on. "I'm still mad at you."
You squeeze her hand. "I know."