A/N: Some random whump featuring heat because I've been in a heatwave and blegh.

"Can't Stand the Heat?"
(Get Out of the Salamander Cave)

Lancelot sat propped up against the tunnel wall at his back, watching the pile of rocks only a few feet across from him simmering red hot. They'd been glowing for a while now, fed by the heat of the relentless fire salamander on the other side. Lancelot didn't really blame it for wanting to roast him; Arthur and the knights had come on a quest to steal one of its eggs, which Merlin had maintained was a bad idea from the start, and Lancelot currently had to agree. The giant salamander had not taken kindly to intruders, and during the mad skirmish to fend it off and retreat, it'd slammed into the cave walls so hard that it had triggered a cave-in. Which had led to Lancelot's current predicament of being stuck between two rockslides, with his friends on one side and an angry lizard that could breathe fire on the other.

He hadn't even been trapped for that long, but the air was thick and cloying with heat and he was drenched in sweat. The underground caverns had been unnaturally warm to begin with, and with the salamander feeding fire into the rocks on one end, the radiating heat had quickly turned the small space into a blacksmith's furnace.

Lancelot shifted in discomfort, chest tight under the weight of his chainmail and the shirt beneath clinging wetly to his skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead and sweat ran into his eyes. He tried to wipe it away with the back of his hand, but all that did was rub it and the grit around his face further into his eyes, making them sting more. He tugged at the collar of his chainmail, wanting to pull it off, only to hiss and yank his hand back as the heated metal links sizzled against his skin. If the salamander happened to melt those rocks and get through before he was rescued, Lancelot didn't think he'd even be able to hold his sword at this point.

"Lancelot?" a muffled voice called. "Lancelot, are you still there?"

He lolled his head toward the rocks on his left and swallowed hard. "Yes." His voice came out weaker than it had the last time, his throat searing from heat and thirst.

"Lancelot?" the worried voice called again.

He tried to push himself up straighter to get more of a breath to shout back. "Here!"

"We're still working on stabilizing the collapse," Arthur said. "Just hold on."

Lancelot glanced back at the smoldering rocks. "Not sure- how long- I have," he shouted back honestly. He didn't know if anyone heard him, as the exertion of yelling used up too much air, and the atmosphere was so thick and hot that it hurt to breathe more in.

He sagged back against the rocks behind him, feeling dizzy and nauseated. The chainmail was now feeling too hot on the inside against his body and he wanted to get out of it, but he couldn't seem to get his arms to move anymore. Not that it mattered; the ground itself was radiating heat as well. His chest juddered with shallow breaths, the tunnel taking on a glowing orange hue from the heated rocks. Lancelot idly wondered if they'd burst into molten lava and melt him on the spot. It'd be an excruciating way to die. Just as bad as getting burned to death in salamander fire.

Unless he passed out first. He was definitely having trouble keeping his eyes open. Everything was so hot. He was drowning in it. Drowning…he'd give anything for some water. Cool water. Not boiled. Everything was boiling. Maybe even his blood. He couldn't breathe…

.o.0.o.

Percival gripped the boulder as tightly as he could and pulled with all his might. The rock resisted at first, grating against the pieces surrounding it, until it finally wrenched loose. Percival let it go flinging over his shoulder, everyone having known to stand clear.

The blast of sweltering hot air that hit him in the face made him stagger backward. Even the others standing off to the sides let out sounds of surprise and dismay as it buffeted them. Elyan recovered first and went clambering through the hole.

"I've got him! He's not moving!"

Percival leaned through the opening, sweat immediately breaking out across his face, and he sucked in a gasp of stifling air. Elyan grabbed Lancelot by the shoulders, only to yelp and reel back, shaking his hands out. He snatched his gloves off his belt and hurriedly put them on.

"His chainmail is too hot to touch," he relayed.

Percival put on his own gloves and then reached through the gap to take Lancelot's shoulders as Elyan struggled to lift him up. The gloves may have protected his hands, but his bare arms brushed against his friend's armor, and he hissed sharply at the fierce burn. Oh gods, was he even still alive?

Percival quickly laid Lancelot on the ground and Merlin dropped down next to him, eyes wide and panicked as he checked to see if he was breathing.

Elyan climbed back out of the tunnel. "The rocks on the other side are heating up. We should get out of here."

"Here," Leon said, working quickly to unclasp his cloak to wrap around Lancelot and offer some meager protection against his searing hot armor.

Percival then hefted his friend into his arms, gritting his teeth against the sweltering heat he could feel radiating from Lancelot's entire body. They set a harried pace out of the caves and into the surrounding woods outside. Percival gasped in a breath of fresh air, cold and crisp after that furnace they'd been in. And they hadn't even been in the worst part of it. He glanced down at Lancelot's limp form in his arms, his friend's face leeched of all color and pale lips parted. Percival hoped he was breathing. Merlin hadn't said…

"He needs water," Merlin said urgently.

"There's a stream this way," Gwaine replied, taking the lead.

They hurried after him. Percival's stomach and arms were uncomfortably warm now. He'd thought Lancelot would start to cool down once he was out of that hellhole, but that didn't seem to be the case. When the stream finally came into view up ahead, he had half a mind to simply dunk Lancelot in it.

"Get his chainmail off," Merlin instructed.

Percival laid their unconscious friend on the ground and yanked Leon's cloak away. The armor was still hot to the touch, but Percival and Elyan had kept their gloves on, and together they wrested the armor off. It was a good thing Lancelot's tunic and trousers had provided a buffer between his skin and the metal, save for a few crescent burns around his collar. Lancelot moaned, finally showing he yet lived, but didn't open his eyes.

"Okay, get him in the stream," Merlin said.

So Percival had had the right idea. He took Lancelot under the arms while Elyan grabbed his legs, and they carried him out into the bubbling brook and eased him into the water. Percival sat down behind him and pulled Lancelot into his lap so he wouldn't slip beneath the surface, but he tried to lower him enough so that the water completely flowed over his torso.

Merlin crouched next to him and scooped water into his hands, pouring it over Lancelot's head, which elicited some more moans but little else.

"How bad is it?" Elyan asked quietly.

Merlin just shook his head, expression grim.

Arthur, Gwaine, and Leon stayed standing on the bank, watching worriedly.

Then Lancelot suddenly sucked in a ragged gasp and arched his back, limbs flailing as he fought to get away.

"Lancelot!" Merlin shouted, grabbing his wrists and trying to hold him still. "It's okay. It's us. You're safe."

Lancelot let out a garbled sound, eyes blowing wide and wild. "Fr-freez-ing."

"I know it feels like it, but we have to get your body temperature down," Merlin replied.

"H-hurts." He started to struggle again, but Percival kept a firm hold on him and he was too weak to escape.

Merlin's expression pinched with regret. "You're burning up. If we don't get you cooled down, you'll die."

Percival exchanged an alarmed look with Elyan at that.

Lancelot, however, seemed to register the seriousness of the situation and gave Merlin a jerky nod. He then squeezed his eyes shut and tried to hold himself together as he violently shivered in the shallow stream.

Merlin scooped more water into his palms but this time held it over Lancelot's lips. "Here, drink."

Lancelot barely opened his eyes before he was desperately trying to gulp down the liquid Merlin poured into his mouth. Of course, half of it went spilling down his chin.

"Here," Arthur called and took a few steps into the stream to hand them a waterskin.

Merlin nodded gratefully and uncapped it, then held the rim to Lancelot's lips so he could more easily drink.

"We should make camp," Leon suggested.

"What if mama salamander breaks free and comes after us?" Gwaine asked.

"They don't leave the caves," Merlin said. "We should be fine. And Leon's right, we should stay put until he's stable."

Arthur nodded. "Alright."

The three of them set about making camp. Elyan asked if Merlin and Percival had things covered before he went to help.

Percival didn't like the shuddering breaths he could feel Lancelot making. And while he himself was getting chilled sitting in the stream, Lancelot's skin still didn't feel nearly as cold as his own.

He was also growing lethargic again, head lolling against Percival's chest. Merlin kept coaxing him to drink and pouring water over his head, but it wasn't long before he lost consciousness again.

"You should get out of the stream," Merlin said.

Percival frowned. "You've been in as long as I have."

"We can switch," Gwaine spoke up from the shore, having heard them.

Merlin pursed his mouth as he studied Lancelot for a long moment and pressed the back of his hand to Lancelot's face. "Actually, Gwaine, if you don't mind coming to check his temperature, my hands are too cold."

Gwaine took a moment to shuck off his boots, socks, chainmail, and roll up his trouser legs, then waded into the stream and bent down to feel Lancelot for himself. "I'm no physician, but he still seems warm."

Merlin nodded. "Okay, switch with Percival."

"You too, Merlin," Arthur called. "Out."

"I'm fine."

"Listen to the princess for once," Gwaine said. "I can handle this." He pulled his tunic up over his head and tossed the article back to the shore. Then he slipped in between Lancelot and Percival, taking the larger knight's place as a support for their unconscious friend.

Percival reluctantly surrendered his charge and struggled to stand, his legs having locked up from sitting in the cold water. Merlin reached out to help him, and together they stumbled out of the stream. Percival pulled off his waterlogged chainmail and rubbed briskly at his arms. Elyan had already built a campfire and was huddled over it in his own wet clothes, so they joined him. But they kept their gazes fixed on their friend as Gwaine held him up in the stream, occasionally scooping water over his hair and down the back of his neck.

It seemed ironic to Percival that he and Merlin had to worry about catching a chill while Lancelot needed to catch one. And even though they were cooling him down as thoroughly as they could, Percival knew Lancelot wasn't out of the woods yet…

.o.0.o.

Lancelot woke to the feeling of a cool cloth being wiped across his forehead and then down the side of his face. "Mmph," he moaned in an effort to speak, but words were beyond him at the moment.

The cooling fabric disappeared.

"Lancelot?"

The voice was familiar but hazy, yet he lolled his head toward it.

"Can you hear me?" it continued. "Can you open your eyes?"

Eyes, right. Everything was currently black.

He managed to get his eyelids to flutter open sluggishly. Merlin's blurry face smiled down at him.

"Hey there."

Lancelot opened his mouth to respond, but his throat felt raw and he started to choke. Merlin quickly grabbed a waterskin and held it to his lips, elevating his head with his other hand. Lancelot gulped down the liquid greedily until that triggered another bout of coughing.

"Easy," Merlin coaxed, smoothing back his hair.

Lancelot closed his eyes in sheer exhaustion but then forced them open again. "Where are we?"

"In the woods. How are you feeling?"

"Mm, heavy," he murmured, eyelids drooping shut again.

"Hot or cold?"

Lancelot thought about it for a moment. He remembered sweltering heat, and then maybe frigid ice, but that didn't sound right. "Neither," he finally answered.

"That's good. You're still a little warm, but the fact that you're awake and lucid is a good sign."

Lancelot's brow furrowed, and he managed to get his eyes open yet again to look around. He was lying on the ground, with a bit of cushioning beneath him, like someone's cloak. His clothes felt dry and cool, a stark difference from what he last remembered.

A fire crackled nearby and he shifted his gaze to find Arthur and the other knights seated around it and watching him and Merlin.

"You got me out," he said.

Arthur nodded. "It took some doing, but Percival's strength did it." His expression fell. "If I had known how bad it was on your side, I would have gone faster."

Lancelot shook his head tiredly. "You couldn't risk bringing down another cave-in." He remembered that part, at least.

"Well, it was close." Arthur shifted uncomfortably. "Going after the salamander's egg was a misguided venture, and I'm sorry."

Lancelot just gave a small nod in acceptance of the apology. They couldn't have known it'd go so badly, so it wasn't Arthur's fault.

"Is this where I get to say 'I told you so'?" Merlin piped in.

"Shut up, Merlin."

Lancelot drifted, the banter muffling around him. Then he felt the cool cloth being pressed against his temple again and he smiled to himself. He had good friends looking out for him.