Cole and Nate (along with their game 'verses) belong to Sucker Punch Productions and Naughty Dog respectively. Man, I love those guys...
As the cell door creaked open, the man sitting in the shadows on his prison cot raised his head disinterestedly. In the dim light of the place, he could make out two guards trying to wrestle a new arrival into the cage with him. Through their grunting as they forced this man inside the cell, apparently rooted to the ground with determination alone, the resident prisoner heard him attempting to persuade them otherwise in a calm, if hurried, tone.
"I'm telling you, I have licenses for all those guns. They're just not, uh…on me right now."
"Yeah, sure ya do, pal," snorted one of the guards.
"Save it for the judge!" the other chimed in dumbly. Then with a brutish shove the guards succeeded in getting him inside and they slammed the door shut, locking it in place. After picking himself up from where they'd pushed him to the floor, the man shook his head in annoyance, yet still he threw himself against the bars while they strode away, and yelled one last plea of desperation.
"For God sakes, a man has the right to protect himself!"
"Shut up, terrorist!" the guard shouted back.
By then the resident prisoner had gone back to staring at the grimy floor of his cell, but at the guard's parting words his eyes flashed and he lifted his head again to look at this "terrorist." The man was probably in his mid-twenties, like he was, with thick black hair and a rather decent, if worse for wear look about him. Not the kind of person one would expect to find in a high-security prison underneath Empire City, populated by murderers and other dangerous criminals of the violent sort. Nevertheless, there he was, quietly cursing while he gave the barred door a defiant kick. Then he submitted himself to the circumstances enough to drop down on the other cot with a resigned sigh.
"How do I get myself into these situations?" he mumbled, running his left hand through his hair.
A couple hours' silence passed while the inmates reflected on their own reasons for being there, the man in shadow periodically glancing at his new prison mate but going unnoticed by him. The new guy, as the veteran prisoner was calling him, seemed rather restless, moving around on his cot and standing up to gaze out into the hallway while guards made their rounds of the prison. At first he tried to talk them into letting him have his one phone call but gave up soon enough, perhaps getting tired of the curt responses and jeering laughs. So eventually it was that he just stayed on his cot and kicked at the floor while cockroaches scuttled by. After awhile, though, he started to pay more attention to his fellow inmate, perhaps out of boredom, and even ventured to ask his name. The dark, hollow eyes that belonged to him lifted and stared back for a moment in silent scrutiny before an answer came.
"Cole MacGrath." His voice was harsh, like he hadn't used it in a long time. There was an awkward pause, then, "And who the hell are you supposed to be?" The way he asked it almost made the new guy laugh, Cole could tell by the look on his face, but somehow that didn't make him mad. Funny, a lot of weird things like that made him mad now, but not this oddball in the cage with him. Maybe this confinement had just been getting the better of him.
"Drake, Nathan Drake. Everyone calls me Nate…except people who get annoyed at me and/or want to kill me, they just call me Drake," he said and then offered his hand for a courteous shake. Cole had to glare at him like he was an idiot before Nate retracted his outstretched palm.
"Oh-you're in cuffs. Sorry, didn't notice…" He scratched the back of his neck.
"You want to know why," Cole observed.
"Well, yeah. Isn't it enough to lock us up…?"
"It would be."
"So why did they cuff you and not me?"
"…Do you know how to pick a lock?" he asked.
"Well I'm not an expert or anything but, uh, yeah."
"What are you in here for?"
"Carrying a gun without a license." Cole stared at him, even harder than before.
"You're shitting me."
"No, I'm really not."
"Do you have any idea what kind of prison this is?" he demanded. Not bothering to wait for a response, he answered the question himself. "This is Empire City's underground jail. You must know about the blast that went off about a year ago."
"Yeah, I heard about it on CNN."
"Before it, this place didn't exist. Then the government built it to lock up…certain people…who they, to put it simply, didn't want around anymore. I'm surprised they didn't just kill us to cover it up."
"Wait a second, this sounds like major government conspiracy…stuff," Nate interrupted, waving his hands to emphasize the ridiculousness of it, and Cole couldn't help but smirk.
"That's exactly what it is. Crazy, isn't it?"
"And you're in here for being a part of it…?"
"Yeah, you could say that. Look, I'll cut you a deal…"
"Oh, I like the way this sounds," he mumbled, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"You get me out of these handcuffs and I'll break us both out," Cole said.
It was Nate's turn to stare. And that he did.
"That's nuts," he pointed out finally, then turned away on his scratchy white cot. An irate sigh escaped Cole. There had been a few other criminals he'd shared the cell with, telling all of them the same thing that could've gotten them out, but even on death row they refused to believe it. Maybe they thought that he would hurt them, because they all heard that he'd been bent on destroying Empire City when it was in quarantine from the explosion. Truth was they heard wrong. Cole MacGrath had tried to save it with what power he had, but when the government finally decided to pull the city out of its torment for the credit, he was convicted and thrown down here with the scum of the earth to rot. This new guy seemed more promising that the meatheads before, though, so Cole tried to push a bit more.
"Neither of us can get out of here without each other's help. I can tell you that right now," he said. "It doesn't matter if you have an outstanding parking fine or if you're a serial killer. If you're here then they will keep you here until you die…guilty or not." Nate's expression remained impassive while he was told this. "And I have a feeling there's more to you ending up down here than you say. But I don't care. I want the hell out. And I'd take you with me if you would just get these damned cuffs off."
Cole waited patiently for a response, his mouth a solid, unsmiling line. Then Nate got up and walked to the bars again, scanning the hallway. After a long minute, he faced Cole with a decisive look.
"I guess," he started slowly, "I'll just have to trust you then. Let me see those chains of yours." With a rush of relief, having at last been paired with an inmate who possessed at least half a brain, Cole stood and turned around, lifting his wrists so Nate could take a look. "I learned this trick when I was in Germany once…I met this guy who could pick just about any lock with practically anything long and…well, solid. Bobby pins work wonders."
"If you ask me if I have a bobby pin…" he began with more than a little irritation.
"What? No, no of course not," Nate said with a little laugh. "I've got something that should work. I held onto it for just such an occasion…you know, if I get thrown in jail with a psycho in handcuffs that promises to bust us both out."
"…Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"
"Uh…" Luckily he didn't have to answer, since at that moment there was a soft click of victory. "And here we go." They jangled to the floor while Cole rubbed each wrist gratefully. "Now you break us out?"
"Now I break us out," he affirmed. "You'll want to stand back a bit."
Once Nate was behind him a safe distance, he shook out his hands again and took a deep breath. This was something he hadn't been able to practice in awhile, thus it might not turn out the way he envisioned it. Cole placed his hands against the left wall of their cell, where the pad used to keep the cells locked should have been attached to the wall and hardwired in. Security thought it was a fool-proof system to keep the inmates secured, but that was before they apprehended Cole MacGrath and stuck Nathan Drake in the same cell as him. Despite two back-up generators hooked up to them so that even in a power outage there wasn't going to be any problems, no electrical device was safe from Cole. He took another breath, then concentrated on the unseen device he could feel through the concrete.
"Holy…" Nate was saying, staring wide-eyed at Cole while electricity surged up his arms, "…shit." The current stopped suddenly and he jerked away.
"That, I haven't done in awhile," he admitted, trying to regain his lost breath.
"Is that it?"
"No! Just wait a second," he snapped. His hands went back to the wall and this time the vibrant blue energy was expelled from Cole's palms. Nate had to shield his eyes from the sparks that flew everywhere and when the light was gone again, he lowered his arm and looked dumbfounded while Cole lightly pushed the cell door open.
"What…in the world…did you just DO?"
"I short-circuited the electrical output that kept the cells locked."
"No, I mean how?" Nate followed him out of the prison cell and they headed out for the surface at a relaxed pace, uncaring if the guards saw them or not. It was obvious that they could take them on, guns or no guns.
"Eh, you pick up a few things after you're caught in an explosion," Cole explained. "I think of it as a skill. Like juggling."
I wrote this a little while ago for my English teacher and I thought, hey, I might as well post it here since it's fan fiction. So I dug up the document, gave it a little polish a viola! A oneshot for the inFamous/Uncharted fan's reading pleasure. I just got this strong urge one day to put these two together in jail, and with a little plot-bending, here we are. I hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing for either Nate or Cole, and if you have any constructive criticism on the subject or anything else for that matter, please do not hesitate to review! Much appreciated.
Thank you for reading. And if I'm not mistaken, this would be the first inFamous/Uncharted crossover to reach , so huzzah!