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It’s a good thing Sully left when he did or he never would have made it tonight. The sky grows steadily greyer and soon white flakes nearly obscure his vision completely.
He grips the steering tightly, white-knuckling the plane down to the landing strip.
“Goddamn,” he exhales when the wheels finally screech to a halt.
He made it, barely, and now a long wait outside the prison. The sky darkens and night falls, but the snow doesn’t let up. The storm leaves everything in a sort of fog, an unsettling silence Sully never liked at sea or in the sky.
The spotlight is the solitary source keeping Sully’s world from becoming completely blanketed in black and white. He digs his hands deeper into his coat pockets and glances down to see his feet have disappeared under several inches of accumulation.
He kicks it off and when he looks up, the scene is the same, save the tiniest pinprick of glowing red, just shy of the light’s reach. It’s about time.
He calls out tentatively, “Boys?”
There’s no response but Nate and then Sam shuffle into the light. Sully strides across the street to join them.
“Took you two long enough,” he says after a quick assessment neither are that much worse for the wear from when he saw them last.
It was a bum gig, but low reward meant mostly low risk, it seems.
“Would’ve been out sooner if they didn’t think your check was fake,” Sam grumbles, jaw clenched in annoyance and in an effort not to lose his cigarette.
“And the bank thought your stack of cash was suspicious. Be grateful you’re out at all.”
Sam mumbles something under his breath Sully doesn’t catch. Complimentary, obviously.
Nate doesn’t have much to say for himself, ignoring the argument and pushing ahead of them, shrugged deep into an insufficient coat for the weather.
Sam’s not dressed much better, but ignores it in seeming defiance even as his hands go white. Oh to be that young and bullheaded again.
They’ve made it some ways down the road when Nate realizes he doesn’t know where he’s leading them. “Where’s our ride, Sully?”
“You’re a particular kind of stupid if you think we’re going anywhere tonight,” Sully chortles. He catches up to Nate, resisting the strong urge to flick the kid on the nose, already pink from the cold.
“We gotta go somewhere,” he protests.
“We are. Bar’s round the corner,” Sully points ahead, the cross street barely visible.
That lights a fire under their asses, all the more motivated to get out of the cold.
It’s exactly the kind of dive they all need. So close to a minimum security prison, it’s near empty, dimly lit, and full of smoke. They don’t even bother to check Nate’s fake ID. Sam pushes ahead to order a shot of something before Sully and Nate even make it to the bar.
“Guess I’m opening the tab,” Sully sighs.
“We’ll pay you back,” Nate promises.
Sully wants to say they owe him nothing – well, Nate doesn’t, but no one likes being indebted. He’ll give his younger cohorts that much.
“Fine by me, but I’ve got a pretty steep interest rate. Fuel ain’t cheap and you boys do insist on being flown everywhere.”
They order their drinks as Sam calls for a second round.
“A toast, boys,” Sully raises his glass. “To not keeping the worst company on a miserable night.”
Sam snorts, “I can definitely think of better company,” then offers, “To not ending the year in prison again.”
“To the drinks on me this time next year,” Nate grins, getting a laugh out of both of them.
“I can drink to that,” Sully says, drinking deeply.
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The trip to the Fishers wasn’t Elena’s suggestion, it was Nate’s. Elena raised a skeptical eyebrow at him as she haphazardly shoved books onto the empty shelves. Sure, they just saw her folks at Thanksgiving but a little second holiday visit could be nice.
It’s a guilt thing, missing Christmas and her last birthday to his pride. The chaos of moving from their tiny apartment to a house is making him anxious for some reason too and maybe a stable environment is what he needs. Even if it is at the in-laws’ place.
Except Nate kind of forgot December in the non-tropical parts of the world means snow and Elena volunteers them to clear the driveway; her parents suddenly have the world’s longest by Nate’s estimate.
“Come on,” Elena says brightly, a wisp of exertion escaping her lips. “Shoveling snow can’t be that different from digging up buried treasure.”
“Never actually done that.”
“Bullshit,” Elena laughs.
Nate doesn’t argue her on it, just focuses on the warmth the strain of shoveling brings.
Elena’s building a fire in the fireplace when Nate finally emerges dressed after a shower later in the evening.
“My very competent wife,” he teases her lovingly as she turns a log. Nate can’t tear his eyes away from her. Backlit, her hair is made a golden halo by the firelight.
She snorts, “You really know how to compliment a girl.”
Standing up, she pats knee at his lack of response. “I’m getting something to drink. Want anything?”
“Sure.”
Alone with the crackling fire, Nate tests the pressure of the cold wedding band against his warm skin. Though he’s refamiliarized himself with the feeling enough over the past few months, a couple of hours shoveling made it feel strange.
A steaming mug appears a little too close for comfort to his face.
“What’s this?” he takes the offered mug, wincing at its heat.
“Cider.”
Nate raises an eyebrow, “Is that all it is?”
“And a heavy pour of bourbon.”
“Good,” he smiles as Elena snuggles in close on the couch. Her sweater is so big she practically swims in it. It’s adorable.
They sit in comfortable silence as the fire crackles and pops and winter winds rattle past the windows. What little daylight there was left dies, leaving the warm red glow of the fire as their only light.
“I signed us up for that gym membership you keep talking about,” Nate says idly.
Out of nowhere, Elena punches his upper arm.
“Ow! What was that –”
“Nathan Drake, you are the worst at Christmas secrets!” Elena laughs.
“You knew that when you married me!” he retorts, but his insides suddenly squirm. Maybe it’s too soon to be making light of it, but Elena seems unfazed. He continues, “Besides, I was gonna say if we keep shoveling snow, I can cancel it and get you something way more romantic. Your punches are proving my point too.”
“Don’t! It’s what I asked for and I appreciate the thought. Really.”
Nate does have one nice gift he’ll still give her anyway: an agate ring he didn’t pawn to put towards the mortgage. Although she tends to shun jewelry, he’s sure it’s to her taste.
Elena glances out the window. “You’re not wrong though, we are going to have to go at it again tomorrow.”
Nate stares out the window with her. She only sees swirling white snow; he can’t seem to see anything but a sandstorm and reminders of too close a call.
He wants to do anything for her. He doesn’t say it; his throat’s stuck. He takes a generous gulp of toddy instead.
“Thanks for the validation, hon. Besides, we’ll have to see what your parents have buried in their driveway.”
Elena giggles, then tucks her head against his shoulder; he lightly kisses her crown. They stay put as the fire burns down to nothing but smoldering embers.
----------
Shooting an excavation this late in the year was precisely one person’s fault: Elena’s. To be sure, Nate encouraged it, but it was Elena who felt wild enough to pitch an accelerated timetable to the network. The Greenland wreck was too good to pass up and wait until spring.
And Cassie’s getting older and more capable of self-entertaining, but Elena needs to know Cassie will have a good Christmas regardless.
It divides Elena’s attention in their hotel room as they settle in for the weeks to come.
“I want to go outside,” Cassie huffs, already bored with her toys and books.
“It’s freezing outside,” Elena points out without looking up from her laptop.
It’s been snowing ever since they arrived and the weather didn’t look promising for the next day either. Half of Cassie’s life has been in the tropics. She isn’t ready for real winter.
“I don’t care,” Cassie moans, bouncing on her toes.
“Come on, there’s a park across the street,” Nate says, gently grabbing Cassie by the shirt and pulling her away from Elena.
“You’re willingly going out in a snowstorm?”
“I try new things on occasion,” Nate says defensively at her skepticism.
“Well, Cassie and I both appreciate it,” Elena says as Cassie excitedly pulls on her snow boots, scarf already haphazardly wrapped around her neck.
“Hey kiddo, you’re gonna need more than that out there,” Nate cautions Cassie, offering her a coat.
Cassie closely resembles Randy in A Christmas Story when she’s all bundled up. Elena catches Nate’s eye; they both barely succeed in stifling their laughter as Cassie waddles out the door.
“Have fun!” Elena calls out to their retreating backs and gets back to work. But the reality sets in that she’s inside with work while they’re outside presumably having a blast.
“That’s done enough,” Elena says to herself, slamming her laptop lid.
It takes a moment to find all her winter gear strewn around the room. Their family’s skill at creating a mess, quickly is truly impressive. Vicky isn’t even there to contribute to the chaos.
Outside is a whiteout; sound is muffled. Elena isn’t worried crossing the street – there’s no way anyone’s driving in this weather.
“Hello?” she calls out tentatively in the park, but spots Nate and Cassie just visible in the distance.
“We’re building a snowman!” Cassie points to the mounds of snow in front of Nate.
“I was hoping for something a little more interesting than that,” Nate clarifies their work. Elena recognizes the ancient city towers of their last find.
“Good luck with that,” Elena says as she plops down into the snow, staring at the endless grey, cold flakes pleasantly hitting her face.
“You are so weird,” Nate chuckles at her.
“Mmhm.”
Elena hasn’t done it in years, but the urge and impulse kicks in. She kicks her legs out and splays her arms out.
“What are you doing?” Cassie asks, losing focus on the snow fortress.
“I can’t believe my daughter doesn’t recognize a snow angel,” Elena chuckles.
“Hey! I know what it is,” Cassie retorts, throwing herself down and matching Elena’s motions.
Satisfied with her own, Elena carefully gets herself up so as to not damage the image. Cassie struggles getting up from hers, damaging its wings with mitten prints. Elena grabs her hand to help her up.
“God you’re getting big,” Elena winces. Her baby’s not a baby anymore – mostly.
Nate’s deep in concentration on his snow sculpture and Elena has a wicked idea.
Bending down to whisper in Cassie’s ear, “Let’s get dad with some snowballs.”
Conspiratorially, “Yeah!”
But Cassie’s too excited to wait for Elena to get into position and throws her snowball wide of the mark. Elena does better, hitting Nate on the arm.
Nate immediately abandons his work. “Oh you really want to do this?”
Elena knows she’s in trouble. Nate’s aim means Elena and Cassie get hit everything time, but they’re all laughing, flushed from the exercise.
One of Elena’s snowballs hits Nate square in the ass.
“That’s it,” Nate says, rushing Elena and tackling her into a nearby drift. Elena’s shriek turns into giggles that hurt her ribs.
Nate still on top of her, neither feel the need to get up, lying there and taking in the still of the moment. Tenderly, Nate brushes the hair that’s fallen out of Elena’s hat out of her eyes and kisses her. Both of their skin could be on fire, warm against the cold.
They wouldn’t stop but for one of Cassie’s snowballs hitting them both square in the face. “Yes!”
Spluttering the snow out of her mouth, as she and Nate scramble up, Elena says, “You’re in trouble now!”
The afternoon goes by in a swirl of laughter and snow.