Opening Authoressial Note: So guess who recently got into the Uncharted series! I finished Drake's Fortune and now I'm almost done with Among Thieves, and it's only been about two weeks. Clearly, the only thing I can do to fill the void until I can afford UC3 is to WRITE FANFICTION
So here, have some Tormented Angst Flynn. :D
Also, as a warning: yeah, it's rated K+ but we're talking a T-rated game here and LAZAREVIC IS INVOLVED, so proceed with appropriate caution.
Disclaimer: If I owned Uncharted, those zombies would never ever have been a thing in Drake's Fortune. Ever.
The first time Flynn shot his mouth off at Lazarevic, he didn't even think about the consequences of doing so. Sarcasm and according comebacks were simply a part of his personality, and so when Lazarevic came stalking into his tent and told him to hurry up on the cipher he was working on, his throwaway response without even looking up was "Yeah, yeah, keep your panties on, Princess."
He didn't even hear Lazarevic cross the room, but he certainly felt it when an enormous, badly scarred hand seized him by the shoulder and spun him forcefully around.
"What the – " Flynn began, and then froze as Lazarevic pressed a gun directly between his eyes.
"I'm sorry," murmured Lazarevic, his voice deeper and accent thicker than normal – a change of tone that Flynn would come to recognize as the tell that the man was extremely upset. "I don't believe I heard you properly. Would you care to repeat what you just said?"
"I-I – no," Flynn stammered.
"Oh. That's a shame," Lazarevic stated. "Because now I'll just have to assume that I didn't mishear you, and you did in fact tell me to keep my panties on."
Flynn tried to explain himself, but barely a sound had escaped from his mouth before Lazarevic shook his head and gestured downward with the gun. "On your knees."
Flynn hesitated, which proved to be the wrong thing to do.
"Your KNEES!" Lazarevic fired his gun into the floor close to Flynn's feet, and the Brit fell to the ground. The Russian stalked around Flynn until he was behind him, trailing the gun across the nape of Flynn's neck. The thief had to make a concerted effort not to take off running. Or scream. Most likely both.
"I can't work with people who don't respect me, Harry Flynn," Lazarevic rumbled, continuing to round the man. Flynn let out an extremely nervous chuckle.
"Oh, I respect you, Lazarevic. I have all kinds of respect for you. It was just – just a bit of fun, you know, to relieve the stress. This is a bit stressful, after all, I mean, we're in the jungle and we're not making much progress and –"
He'd been babbling. He knew he'd been babbling. It was a thing he tended to do when he got nervous. But with the pistol resting in his mouth, tilted slightly to better fit, he wished he'd never spoken a word.
"You are correct. We are not making much progress. And whose fault is that? I hired you, Mr. Flynn, to ensure that we would make progress. That is the one, the only, reason you are here. If you fail to fulfill that purpose, then you no longer have a reason to exist." The gun straightened, forcing Flynn's mouth open a little wider, sliding in until it started to initiate his gag reflex. "And whether or not you are fulfilling your purpose is a decision that falls exclusively to me – the one who decided your purpose in the first place."
Through his state of blank terror, Flynn realized that the gun had been removed from his mouth, Lazarevic was gone, and he had collapsed on his side onto the floor, pale and shaking and drenched in a cold sweat.
It was the first time he realized just how deeply over his head he'd gotten himself into the situation.
A3: Uh, so yeah, thanks for reading that! Please drop a review; I love hearing what my readers think :3
Also it's my first attempt at Uncharted fic and if I have anything to say about it, this is gonna become part of a series of oneshots that all explain the reasons behind why Flynn was a jerk.
That is all