STEADY AS SHE GOES.

❝ you — we don't have time. ❞ nate's gentle despite the urgency when he wraps his fingers around her free hand, the other one outstretched as she is undoubtably fighting the urge to grab the artifact that's been knocked off its center of balance and laying horizontally on the pedestal. they've undertaken such a grueling journey to make it to this moment, the apex of their search taking the form of the silver idol that shines as the sunlight catches against it when the temple ceiling begins to crumble; he's just as reluctant to part with it as her, because he too is a chaser of history and doesn't want to, but he does value his own life — values it enough to know that this isn't worth dying for.

❝ ah, c'mon ... i didn't lie ! ❞ that alone was a lie, and he winces immediately after he says it. lying always comes so naturally to him, almost as easy as breathing, and sometimes he wishes he wasn't so good at it. however, when develop a career like this where you're weirdly used to people trying to kill you left and right, you do what it takes to survive. nate doesn't know much about mack's background, as they were only introduced via a mutual acquaintance, but from what he's heard he hopes that mack gives him some grace.

nate has been in plenty of situations before, and is well-equipped to handle probably just about anything. it comes with the territory, so it usually goes hand in hand with traveling for work as he so likes to eloquently put it. he really should not be so surprised, all things considered, when he runs over the exact semantics of her request in his head. yet, he is totally and completely caught off guard. he probably looks as unsettled by her as he feels, struggling to process what she just asked for, but she doesn't seem to think it's all that odd if the complete lack of any alarm on her face is anything to go by.

he doesn't know how she did it. he knows his way around a weapon, is comfortable with the way the trigger of a gun feels against his finger, but the speed in which she moves is unlike anything he has ever seen before. heavily outnumbered in a room full of men trying to kill him, he wasn't sure how he was going to get out of this mess — but thanks to her, he doesn't have to think about it anymore and now has a route of escape ... assuming she won't pry into his reasoning for being here in the first place. ( the museum in gotham city hosts a hotbed of activity, it seems; he's not the only person on the hunt for the artifact that stands between him and his shadowed savior. )

he doesn't miss the way her hands clench into fists at her sides even though his eyes are fixed onto her face; she's brilliant, one of the greatest minds he's ever had the privilege to get to know on any of his excursions, which is why something ugly and bitter settles in the pit of his stomach when he thinks about the danger that lies ahead. it isn't that he believes she can't take care of herself (her reputation among these circles most definitely precedes her enough to cement her capability even among the most stubborn of skeptics), but his self interests only seep so far into his consciousness before he has to pump the breaks. she's capable, yes, but he's overcome with the need to be a better man. if it means he has to lie to her to get her not to follow him, then so be it. ❝ well, miss croft, it looks like we're at the end of the line. ❞

oh nate... you're so stupidfksjskfk

nathan drake sure has a lot to answer for. there's a lot of betrayals in his history, many made for more selfish reasons than selfless, but he's not particularly proud of this one. it catches on his teeth as he winces, met with such an icy indifference he can feel the chill deep under his skin as he shifts from one foot to the other. he supposes he deserves that.