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[The face that appears on the network is a familiar one—Nate's a chatty guy, and he made a grumpy address not long ago. But something's different this time—he looks a little disoriented, a little older. A little beefier.]

Hey. [He raises a hand in a casual greeting.] Sorry if I freaked anyone out. Complete accident, I swear. By the way, that cryo slime is incredibly gross. Don't get it in your mouth if you can help it.

[Ha, ha. This is no big deal, right?]

It's been a while. Three days for you guys, I guess? More like...three years for me.

[He smiles weakly. He's not freaked out! He's not freaked out!!]

Nice to see everyone again.

[It's been three years since Nathan Drake set foot on Avagi, but he still remembers his way around. ...mostly. Once he's got some of his bearings back, he makes a circuit of the accessible areas of the facility, re-familiarizing himself with his way around.

And eventually, he makes his way back to their quarters, plopping down in the common area and trying to digest.]

Back in space. How about that.

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[He's naked, apparently asleep and covered and goop.

And then suddenly the cryo pod is opening and he's hacking up goop, rising up out of his cold, gooey resting place.

His chest hair is damp and beautiful.]

[ Look. Just because her second home is the medical area of the ship doesn't mean she won't be there. Her husband is in that pod, the very same one she's been in twice herself. It hasn't been just him in there, friends have been subjected to it.

No one should be.

Goop is everywhere. Too much goop. What is the point of it?

The faint beeping alarm going off signals her immediately to the pod chambers. Good thing the wing is absolutely dead, no one injuring themselves and needing her to do up some stitches.

Elena's entering just as the top hisses open, just in time to catch sight of the damp and oh-so beautiful chest hair of an upgraded Uncharted 4 Nathan Drake. Hallelujah. There is a God listening on this damn forsaken ship. ]

Careful— last thing I want to do is have to put you back in there because you cracked that thick head of yours open trying to get out. And look out for the wires. Your IV is still in your arm.

[ She's thoughtful, obviously the only reason they married. She's brought in a few towels so they can wipe him down. ]

What the—

[Nate dimly registers that it's Elena, which is right, and that he's all wet, which is also right—just a few seconds ago he'd pulled himself ashore ahead of Sam. They'd made it, they didn't get crushed by falling rocks or drown in the water next to Avery's ship.

Except there's no African sunshine like he remembers. He's cold, actually. And...naked.]

Elena? [He swipes at the goop in his eyes—with the arm that's got a needle in it, of course.] Ow, what the hell.

[This has to be either the longest pause or someone doesn't realize they have the ACE on.]

.............................cryo slime?

[Ah. Guess it's the former.]

Nate.

[ Ignoring the slimy texture she moves in and reaches to take him by the forearm and push the limb back down. It'll slip her notice that he definitely feels more sturdier. Elena would rather focus on getting him grounded again, and out of the pod. Not because of a naked husband. Or maybe it is.

A heavy sigh. ]

I guess you missed the part about the IV. Here— [ A towel is passed to him. ] For your face. Wipe.

Yep. Stop by medical if you want to check it out. But you probably don't.

[He goes along with it and lets his arm go down, partially because it hurts less this way and partially because he's helpless against her in the end.]

Thanks.

[He takes it and swipes at his face and hair, getting rid of enough goo so that it won't drip down in his face. Then he focuses on trying to climb out of the pod, glancing sidelong at her as he does.]

Where the hell are my clothes? Where are we?

[It'll come to him. Give him a couple more seconds.]

Considering it doesn't sound favorable, I don't think I will.

[That and also medical... side-eyes...]

So you returned home?

Felt like it, yeah. Not sure how that works if I was plugged in here the whole time.

That's what she said-- So didja have a robot stand in back home, all this time, or what?

What? No. Why would I?

Good to see you again, [Rogue smiles.]

So you were gone for three whole years? That's... I didn't know that happened around here.

I've always wondered whether we were missing persons or time stood still or what.

[He smiles back. The greeting was automatic, but it is nice to see these people again. Makes him feel steadier, like this wasn't just some weird dream.]

I've heard about it. Happened to a friend of mine. Guess I never thought it would happen to me.

Huh. So while you were back home what happened? Did you remember any of this, were you gone at all?

[She hasn't spoken to anyone who's left and come back yet]

[ Not sure how much help she'll be in assisting him out with how much goop is covering him and slipping away, she reaches out anyway. ]

You haven't been in there long to feel the full effects but... Be careful.

[ A pause, she glances at him. Three days, that couldn't have affected his memory. No way. Elena frowns; at least he hadn't forgotten her. ]

I got your clothes. As for where we are, we're... We're on Avagi. You know, space, the final frontier?

[If nothing else, she helps him keep his balance and avoid slipping as he gets out. Once he's standing on the floor, he lets go to avoid getting any goop on her, and starts swiping at the rest of his body with the towel.]

Avagi...?

[No, they're supposed to be on Libertalia. He frowns, not getting it—and then suddenly he does, all the memories come rushing back. Like it was yesterday and three years ago at the same time.]

Oh, shit. Yeah. We're back here?

[His eyes dart back and forth, then settle on her again.]

It sounds about the same as when we were placed in the simulations on Thisavrou.

[Things Siegfried doesn't like: that. He still doesn't like it and he still isn't happy that that was a thing.]

You mean you're back. I never left.

[ Knowing that he's stable and isn't in any danger of slipping, she moves away to get e cotton ball and some medical tape, returning a short moment later. There's less slime on him now, makes it easier for her to see all of him. ]

Arm up. I'll take out the IV. [ Elena waits until he does as asked, stepping in close to have the cotton ball at the ready as she pulls the needle free. ] Press down. [ Instructions for him as she goes to discard the needle safely, a strip of tape readied to replace his fingers. ]

...what happened?

You never...?

[He trails off and shakes his head. Get it together, Nate. He remembers how this works from the outside. It's just weird as hell being the one who left, but also didn't.]

I woke up back on Sully's plane, headed back from Yemen. Never knew I'd left. [He presses down, ready to oblige her in whatever she needs him to do.] We went home. Patched things up. Bought a house.

It's been three years, Elena.

What..?

[ She pauses in handing him another towel. That makes no sense. ]

No, you were only in there for three days... [ A house? Holy shit. Elena now eyes him— all of him. The whole package ] Is that why you now look like a beefcake?

My god— a house? [ The question then slips out: ] Who are you?

[He shakes his head.]

Not that I can recall. Maybe I dreamed about it, or something, but that might just be wishful thinking.

[It probably is.]

I just went on with my life. Bought a house. Found a famous pirate's lost treasure.

The second one, I guess. I blinked and I was on the plane I got pulled from to start with. Didn't remember being here at all.

[NO ONE IS.]

Jesus, don't say that. You'll have me wondering if my whole life was fake.

[He takes it, trying to dry off completely. No cryo goop in the crevices, please.]

A what? [He looks down at himself, then bake at her helplessly.] I look how I always look?

[But that last question stings. It's a joke, not a wounded jab from someone he'd wounded far worse. But he can still hear the echo of that motel room in Madagascar.]

It's me. I'm me.

[But instead of being separated by days, it's years.]

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