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"Damn it kid"

"You're not fit to touch these objects"

"Get him"

"Shot him"

"You're nothing but a filthy cast off little beggar"

"This won't hurt a bit"

"It's the filthy little stray that made off with your wallet"

~~~
I jump awake.

It was just another nightmare...

However, when I regain my senses I immediately know something is not right. I'm in a bed. A nice, soft, comfy bed, something I can't remember experiencing. I glance around. The walls are painted a light beige that are coated with dirt. To my right is a window, with the blinds drawn shut, and an air conditioning unit. To the left there is a door. The only furniture in the room is the bed I currently lie in and a small side table that appears to be attached to the bed.

I rip the blanket off of me and sit on the edge of the bed, resting my feet on the cool, tile floor. I feel lightheaded and the room appears to be spinning. I don't know where I am or how I got here. Those are two very bad things, especially for a kid who lives on the streets, because for all I know I could be in police HQ.

I've never really done anything 'illegal', but I guess the police think other wise as they are always harassing me and hunting me down. They've never been smart enough to catch me so I highly doubt they ever can.

I contemplate whether I should try the door and see what lies on the other side or stay here and wait to see what happens. I suddenly hear talking and I tiptoe over to the door to try to listen.

"Ya, ya I know she's ticked off! Hell who wouldn't be. Ya I know. I'm heading out ASAP."

The sounds familiar but I can't quite place it. There is a gap in the conversation making me think he is on the phone and not directly talking to someone.

"I dunno where yet"

"...I dunno what to do with the kid."

Am I this 'kid'?

"Yah ok. Yup, bye."

I hear a click and the conversation is over. It seems there is only one man in the building, so if it comes to a fight I'm sure I could take him. Then a light goes off in my head. That voice belongs the man's wallet I snatched. I also saw him in the museum. Then it all comes back. Breaking into the museum, the encounter with the duo of terror, and getting chased across roofs and getting shot at. I still don't know how I got here and I don't know where here is.

I remove my ear from the door and take a step back, however my foot steps on a squeaky spot in the old floor. I don't dare move. He might not have heard it, but I highly doubt it. I hear foot steps and they get closer and closer. My body stiffens and I momentarily freeze due to panic. I leap towards the bed, land with a thump and pretend that I'm still asleep. However if this guy has half a brain I know I'm screwed. It's hard to miss a loud floor squeak and a thump.

The doorknob gently grinds as it turns to open. I'm laying face down on the bed so I can't see a thing. Another dead give away is that I'm lying on top of the covers. When I first woke up I was buried beneath them.

He walks over and sits on the bed.

"C'mon kid"

He knows I'm awake and he knows, I'm listening, however I still don't move. He sighs

"Alright kid, if that's the way ya wanna be...just don't forget, I did just save your ass back there."

I roll over and sit against the head of the bed. He has brown hair and a brown moustache. His eyes are light blue.

"Well look who finally came 'round."

"Who are you?! What do you want with me?!"

"Hu, well a little gratitude would be nice. The name's Victor Sullivan, but my friends call me Sully."

I do vaguely remember that old lady calling him Victor.

"This is the part where you introduce yourself..."

"Nathan. Nathan Drake. My friends....you can call me Nate."

"Well Late you must be hungry no? Come and eat something."

He pats my leg, but I pull my leg away and growl. He gives me a bewildered look and stands up. He walks out the door leaving me to my thoughts.