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Flynn was cold. That was the first thing he noticed, but it wasn't enough to wake him up fully because, after all, he was used to sleeping in the cold. And the wet - it was wet too, he realised, but once again, not the worst conditions he had slept in. Well, most of the time, he and Lance would- not cuddle, he wouldn't say cuddle, but they would manly share body heat and Flynn would often snuggle- uh, get closer to Lance because he was a literal human furnace, and things would be okay.
Lance wasn't there, though. He was cold, and wet, and Lance… Where was Lance?
"...ynn! Bu…"
It was raining, Flynn understood, a little more conscious now. It was raining heavily, and there was thunder, and he was wet because… he didn't find a roof? It was weird. He always managed to find a roof in these circumstances - he hated the cold with a passion and once, Lance got so sick that he feared-
Yeah. He hated the cold. Where was Lance? Was he cold too?
There was some noise above his head, and he felt something that was definitely not rain fell on his face. Pebbles? He should really find a better place to sleep, but he was too tired and too cold to move now. His head hurt. And he was tasting dirt, somehow?
"Flynn!" someone called from faraway. "Flynn, where are you?!"
Flynn groaned, and got more dirt in his mouth for his trouble. With all of this rain, his hair must be a mess now, he would have to take care of it thoroughly. Would Lance accept to go steal more hair products? It was a vital necessity, for sure, Flynn just had to convince him of that - and considering Lance didn't exactly have hair, it would be difficult, but Flynn Rider wouldn't back down from a challenge. Except if that challenge was getting up because, for now, that wasn't happening. Maybe he could borrow something from Stalyan? Nah, not worth her anger, Flynn thought with a frown that he regretted immediately as a flash of white hot pain made him groan once again. Ouch. His head hurt. Where was- where was Lance?
"Flynn! Buddy, do you hear me?!" The voice was directly above him now and it was- Flynn was pretty sure that it was Lance, but with the rain, his friend sounded weird. A little choked up, perhaps. And how could he be above him? "Flynn!" Lance called desperately, "Flynn! Answer me buddy!"
Flynn grimaced and opened his mouth, but no sounds came out. Why was Lance screaming in the middle of the night? Why were they both outside? His head hurt more and more as he woke up progressively, and Flynn had half a mind to simply go back to sleep. It would be less cold, less wet, and definitely less painful.
Then again, Lance sounded really scared. Maybe Flynn would stay awake a little more - just to check that it wasn't another spider related incident.
"Flynn! Fly- oh come on, Eugene Fitzherbert!" Lance yelled, his voice echoing sharply inside Flynn's head.
"Hey," Flynn groaned, louder this time, "don't call me that." His exclamation wasn't that loud, but thankfully, Lance heard it anyway.
"Sorry, sorry, I just wanted a reaction," Lance apologised, still sounding far away.
Flynn shifted and regretted it immediately, stars bursting behind his eyelids as he cried out. He might have lost some time, because when he finally felt like he wouldn't be sick, Lance was back to calling his name frantically.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm awake," he coughed into the dirt, before taking a deep breath and - finally - turning entirely on his back. It hurt, to say the least. Gasping, the rain falling right into his mouth, Flynn finally realised that Lance wasn't above him because he was flying, but because he was down in a… ravine? Random crack on the Earth? Anyway, not good.
And, if he had turned the other way, he would have fallen to his doom. Further down to his doom, exactly.
"Flynn, buddy, please stop moving," Lance pleaded, his head popping up a few feet above him. "I'm coming to get you, okay? Just- stay put!"
"Not sure… where I would go," Flynn breathed in answer, but Lance was already gone. And, it was still raining. What a day.
Honestly, he didn't remember how exactly he managed to fall here - he assumed he fell, since his entire body was screaming at him, most of all his head. Gingerly, he tested his hands and feet, and thankfully, he didn't seem to have anything broken. Being a thief didn't really allow for broken bones, and Stalyan would have probably been angry with him for being incapacitated - even now, she would probably blame him for his injuries. To be fair, he didn't remember how he got them, but innocent until proven guilty - it was not his fault until he discovered it was. Sadly, Stalyan often assumed the reverse stance, blaming him for things he didn't even do until he apologised for it. He was already imagining the argument about this in his head, and how he could try to calm her down, when it struck him.
He wouldn't argue with Stalyan. He- he left her at the altar.
Suddenly, everything came back to him in a rush - his decision to leave her, supported by Lance; taking part of the Baron's treasure for themselves as a goodbye gift; being chased down by his men, fighting under the rain, being pushed… being pushed to his death by The Weasel.
He remembered falling, and thinking that this was it. He was going to die. And the worst thing? He didn't even regret leaving Stalyan behind. She- they- Lance had been right about her since the beginning. Then Flynn hit the ground and didn't think about it anymore. He had been lucky to fall on something midway, instead of all the way down the ravine, because that was probably the only thing saved his life.
Well, lucky wasn't exactly the word here, but he would take it.
"Flynn! Still awake down there?" Lance yelled before leaning over the edge again.
"Yeah," he answered half-heartedly, shivering from the unrelenting rain.
He wasn't sure Lance heard him, but he must have seen him move enough to be reassured, because he turned back for a moment. Flynn waited in silence, feeling oddly numb as he thought back over everything he did to get them in this situation, his head still pulsating painfully with his heart. Gently, he put a hand above his ear, but took it back with a hiss. Between the darkness and the rain, he wasn't exactly sure that it was blood on his fingers, and decided to act as if it wasn't. If he didn't see the problem, there was no problem, for sure.
Lance threw a rope down. He pulled it harshly three times, but whatever he had anchored it on held.
"Lance," Flynn called, trying to sit up and failing miserably, his arms too shaky under him.
"Flynn, don't move, I'm coming!"
"No, no, Lance, it's too wet," he yelled back, "you'll slip!"
Even from down there, Flynn could see the glare Lance threw his way. "If you think I'm leaving you here, you're wrong!"
"The rule is-"
"I don't care about the rule! Jail is one thing, I won't leave you to die here!"
It was rare for Lance to sound that angry. Flynn closed his mouth, biting back his answers, because he knew he wouldn't be able to convince his friend not to do it. Which didn't mean he wasn't scared off his wits when Lance started to make his way down as carefully as possible. Lance nearly lost his grip at one point, and Flynn nearly had an heart attack at the sweet age of sixteen, but, thankfully, Lance caught himself and only kicked down pebbles into Flynn's face. On purpose, he'd bet, because he thought Flynn was being an idiot.
Lance jumped the last few inches, immediately going to Flynn's side, hands hovering above him.
"Are you okay? Is anything broken? How many fingers do you see- wait, I'm not supposed to hide my hands behind my back, I-"
"Lance, Lance!" Flynn interrupted, bating his hands away feebly. "I'm fine, help me up."
Lance nodded, put one arm under Flynn's and yanked him upright which- bad idea.
Very bad idea.
When he came back to himself, Flynn was on all four, heaving, and Lance had one hand around his waist to keep him off his face, and the other doing soothing circles on his back. It would have been sweet, if not for the nearly constant hysterical babbles in Flynn's ears as Lance panicked. Flynn didn't know where Lance heard all this stuff about head injuries that he was reciting, but it did sound grim worded this way. He really didn't want to slip into a coma either.
"So," Flynn croaked, "what a break up, huh?"
If he hoped his joke would calm Lance down, he hadn't anticipated the tears in his best friend's eyes as he looked at him sadly. Flynn sighed and - carefully - sat up, Lance steadying him.
"I thought- I kept searching for you, but I thought-"
Lance swallowed, unable to finish his sentence, and Flynn thought he understood. Falling in a ravine didn't have the best chance of survival. He would say he was sorry, but he didn't think Lance would appreciate it, so he patted his arm feebly instead. His head was pounding right up to his eyeballs, which was weird sensation in itself. Lance rubbed his eyes to get rid of his tears, and Flynn didn't even tell him that it wasn't useful since it was still raining on them - he was nice like that. And tired. Very tired.
"C'mon, don't fall asleep on me," Lance said, jostling Flynn enough to make the pain flare up again. "Sorry, but we need to get out of here."
"I- I don't think I'm climbing up that rope, buddy," Flynn answered, shivering a lot more now that Lance had gotten up again.
He also felt woozy and since, despite all appearances, he wasn't a complete idiot, he knew his hands were shaking way too much to have some sort of grip. Especially under this rain. Take that, Stalyan - he did know how to think before he leaped. Which wouldn't help him out of this situation but at least he could finally have the last word on that argument. Why was he thinking about her again? His head hurt a lot.
"Yeah, we'll find a doctor, don't worry," Lance said, and Flynn realised he must have talked out loud. He wasn't sure any doctor would accept them as patient - they didn't have any money left - but it was a nice sentiment. "And you won't have to climb up, I'll take care of it."
Before Flynn could wonder what that meant, Lance was back before him and, in one swift movement, got him on his back. He would have sputtered a protest immediately, if not for his spinning head.
"A piggyback? That's your grand idea?" Flynn hissed through his teeth as he breathed against the nausea, arms tightening unconsciously around Lance.
"You've got a better one?"
"No! Doesn't mean this one isn't stupid!"
"Well we can't stay here! You need help and we need a warm shelter and-"
"If you slip we're dead!"
"Don't let go and I won't," Lance snarked back, squaring his shoulders and jumping to start climbing up. Flynn yelped, and tightened his legs around his waist, not about to deconcentrate him now that their fates was in his hands. Quite literally.
From his vantage point, Flynn could see how Lance was straining to get both of them out of here. He could see him palms get hurt against the rope, could feel the rain running down his hair, could hear Lance's grunts and realised that he was glad to have him in his life. Maybe Flynn was an idiot - but at least, he had a best friend.
"I'll miss Stalyan, though," he whispered vaguely, forehead on Lance's shoulder.
"Hey, hey, you promised you wouldn't let go Flynn," Lance said in a panic, feet slipping against the rock.
"Didn't promise anything."
"Did too."
"Did not."
"Did too! You've got a concussion, my word is worth more than yours," Lance concluded harshly, "so don't sleep."
Flynn hummed, Lance grunted, and thunder roared above them - it was all very dramatic. Once Lance was less freaked out about it all, he'd probably appreciate the setting of his daring rescue, since nothing was cooler than appropriate scenery. It would be a story for the ages... if they didn't die.
Lance cursed under his breath as he heaved himself up for the last few inches, falling heavily on the ground with Flynn still on his back. He crawled to get them both further away from the edge, before sprawling entirely on the ground. Flynn though he should try to move, since he was essentially squashing Lance, but his head was pounding and he really didn't want to.
"We're alive," he drawled ironically, and Lance snorted in answer. They were alive, and soaked to the bone, his head was still hurting, and he was pretty sure that Lance's hands were too, from the friction. Ah, and the Baron's men were probably still on their tails - or Lance's, at least, if they thought he was dead already. Yeah team.
After a while, Lance helped him lie down on the ground as he sat back up, and Flynn looked at the sky, trying to stay very still. The clouds were still dark and menacing, but he felt like the rain was falling a little less heavily. Flynn raised his hand to his head again, still flinching when he made contact, but with this new light, the fact that he was bleeding was undeniable.
What was the protocol in use when he did see the problem? He didn't remember right now, but it wasn't good.
Lance leaned over him and Flynn realised that he was talking, but he hadn't listened. He felt dizzy, as if his head was slowly floating away from him and that- that was weird. Lance frowned, moved away, and Flynn nearly asked him to stay, before he caught himself. Huh. The head injury was really messing with him. That, and Lance was the best way to keep the rain out of his eyes. Yeah, that was totally it.
Flynn closed his eyes but Lance immediately shook him, trying to keep him awake. Sadly, it only heightened Flynn's dizziness and pain, and he thought he mumbled something that made Lance look scared, but he didn't remember what - he closed his eyes again and lost consciousness before he even understood what was happening.
Flynn was warm and dry. That was a nice change from the last time he woke up, though he didn't realise it immediately, still too groggy. His head still hurt but the pain was dulled now, something faded in the back of his mind. Right here and then, as Flynn woke up slowly, he could have swore he hadn't been this comfortable in years…
If it wasn't for the elbow digging in his ribs.
Once he felt it, Flynn was unable to ignore it. He tried to shift away slowly and, when that didn't work, he pushed the arm away. At first, he thought he won that battle, but the arm came back with a vengeance, covering his stomach in a heap as a loud snore escaped its owner.
"Lance," Flynn growled, already missing his sleepiness, "move."
"Shut- Flynn?!" his best friend yelled, startled awake, while Flynn cringed away from the loud noise. "Flynn," Lance said more softly, "you're awake!"
"Yeah," he grumbled sarcastically, something that Lance obviously didn't get as he started talking fast about how worried he had been. Though, Flynn knew his friend - he totally got that he was being annoying, only, he liked to be.
Now that his eyes were open, he saw that they were both on a bed that Flynn didn't recognise at all. His hand climbed to his head but only felt the bandages that were on top of his wound.
"Told ya I would get you to a doctor," Lance winked, proud of himself.
"Yes but how are you planning to pay them?"
"I... uh, have my ways?" he answered nervously.
Flynn frowned, and saw that weird tick Lance always had when he was feeling guilty about something - his eyebrows took this strange position on his face and it outed him as a liar every time. His thought process was slowed due to his head injury, but it didn't take long for Flynn to understand what exactly Lance could be feeling guilty about.
"Oh I can't believe you," Flynn complained, "you stole from our stolen treasure?! We said we would do fifty fifty!"
"See, I wouldn't say stole, exactly-"
"Of course you wouldn't!"
"It helped you in the end! That has to count!" Lance insisted, and Flynn punched his shoulder in answer - not too strongly, but Lance was a big baby and whined about it anyway.
Then, he settled back on the bed, ready to go on with his nap.
"Isn't this my bed?" Flynn grumbled half-heartedly, getting comfortable again.
"Hmm."
"And you- ah, doesn't matter," he sighed, accepting his cuddly fate.
Only because Lance was a warm presence beside him and that he was still feeling cold. And maybe because he seemed to have scared Lance back there, so he wanted to make him feel better. And perhaps it made him feel a little better too, to have his best friend with him - because, despite their ups and downs, he knew that Lance would always have his back, even if it meant going to pick him up from a ravine.
Lance snored and hugged him closer - and Flynn smiled and went back to sleep warm, dry, and happy.