NOTE: I live! I tried making this chapter an actually decent-sized chapter, but I failed. Enjoy~
Sully was freaking out. Elena was freaking out. Chloe was freaking out. Charlie had no idea what was going on.
This was a terrible idea.
Nate jumped when the doorbell rang and rummaged through his belongings, finding a pistol under the bed, a worn kitchen knife, and a shitload of alcohol. He would need it if both of them were going to stay alive. When the doorbell rang again, he took a swig of beer and went to the door, footsteps light and heart beating fast. Flynn could try to pull anything-
"Mate, open the damn door," a British voice sighed. The brunet did as he was told and swung the door open, a pistol between his two fists as he aimed the tip of it right to his old friend's forehead. "Whoa, whoa whoa whoa!" he cried as he held up his hands in surrender. "Calm- calm down. Calm down." Nathan didn't flinch. Harry groaned and patted himself down, shoving hands under his shirt to reveal that he was hiding nothing. "Look. Clean. I'm not going to bloody kill you, so lower the gun!" Once the treasure hunter did as he was told- quite reluctantly- he sighed and murmured a short, 'Jesus Christ,' before gesturing wildly in impatience. "I didn't drive twelve hours just to be left out here, Drake."
"Hold on," Nate growled. "You betrayed me. Yeah, didn't kill me at first, but you tried to- twice- afterwards. And the grenade. It hurt Elena really bad and after all that shit, I can't trust you," he snapped. Flynn sighed.
"Not asking for trust, here. Just want to catch up with you on some things," was all he said.
The brunet got the hint and stepped back inside, watching the man as he observed his surroundings after placing down his dufflebag. "Cozy. I expected you to have a shit apartment or something," Flynn joked. Nate wasn't in the mood right now.
"Okay, so, explain to me how in the Hell you're alive, where you've been since then, and why- of all people- would you want to come visit me?" he interrogated.
"Put down the gun and I'll tell you everything I know."
He didn't believe it, but, regardless, Nathan set down the pistol on a nearby counter, and sighed when he was patted down. Harry held up the kitchen knife that was hiding under his shirt. "Really," he stated. "Really, mate. A damn kitchen knife."
"Now tell me," Nate ordered, and he was pulled down to a chair at the dining table, Flynn sitting across from him.
"Like I said, I'll tell you everything I know." A pause. "That makes sense, anyways," he added.
So, there was the explosion, everything went black, and after a few seconds, I woke up in a hospital. But, that's all I remember, really. I mean, of where I ended up first.
"Get on with it."
Patience, Drake.
Well, after that, I remember talking with someone, but I don't remember their face. They... basically gave me everything I needed to start a new life. Shelter, food, water, necessary amount of money, all that. They were sneaky buggers, too. Wiped all information of whatever they did so I couldn't find out who they were. Got a job- a bartender. Humble, but it kept me occupied and, when things got rough, I just used my fists.
"As you always do."
Sssh. Telling a story.
Anyway, I know what you're thinking: so many plot holes! I know. Apparently I was in such bad shape that I was out for... I think, er, about a month or so. My burns and other injuries still hurt like a bitch, but I lived with worse, and apparently they knew that, too. Left me medication that would last another month or so. But, yeah, I couldn't find out anything.
"So, that's it?" Nathan asked. "No adventures?"
"Nope," the Brit replied with a relaxed expression.
"No criminals?"
"Nope."
"No business with said criminals?"
"No."
"Violence of any kind?"
"Besides the bartender thing, no."
"Not even a dramatic love story?"
Flynn stared at him in silence.
"Clearly you're lying but," Nate sighed, "if you kill me, everyone's going to be on you ass, so..."
"Nate," the other snapped, and the brunet went quiet. "Relax. You need to loosen up."
"Me?" he laughed. "Me, loosen up? That's funny." Silence. Harry looked... serious. "Jesus, what the Hell happened to you while you were gone?" he murmured.
"Nothing. That's the thing."
"What do you mean?"
The blond tapped his fingers on the table for a moment, jaw clenched as if he wanted to say something, but was afraid. Afraid. A smart mouth like him? Damn.
"Two years," Flynn sighed. "Hiding for two years. I know it doesn't make a difference, but..." he trailed off and, after a moment, laughed. "Nevermind. Let's just get a beer like the good old times-"
"Flynn, what is it?"
"- and it's on me. Maybe we can catch up and-"
"Harry," the adventurer pressed, and the other fell silent. He avoided contact. Shit. All the little things his ex-partner did, Nate hadn't paid attention to it in the past and was now probably over-analyzing. "What is it. Come on, give me something, here. I haven't heard or seen you in two years."
Silence. Just as Nate was about to give up, he spoke.
"I felt like shit," he stated. A pause. "There's a difference between feeling like shit, and feeling like shit. I was bloody sick of it and I wanted to start making things right," he murmured. "Or, at least better." Another pause.
"Look, um, bear with me for a moment here," Flynn said, finally looking up at the other. "I kept quiet about this. Never told a soul, always shut my mouth- yeah, the smart ass- and I was really considering telling you or not," he said. "I don't want pity or anything, just- I want you, at least you, to understand."
"I'm listening," Nate said quietly in response. He didn't know what to say or think about this new Harry Flynn guy, acting normal at first for the given situation, but...
"When I made a deal with the Lazarebitch guy," he started, "He completely lied to me. I understand why; you can't trust anyone not to rat you out when you're a warlord." His eyes went down to the table again. "Like everyone else, he looked into everything about me and pushed my buttons, threatening me with them," he explained. "Not going into detail what those buttons were," he said quickly. "Anyways, if I backed down, he would've- would've hurt me, which I didn't really care about when it came down to it, because he was a bitch- which explains his nickname- and used Chloe and you against me, too."
"Wait," Nate interrupted, "me too? I thought it was just-"
"No, it wasn't just Chloe. The deal was that I tell no one, so the plan wasn't messed up with, and you two wouldn't try to bail me out of it."
Oh.
"If I told anyone, especially you, everything would be ruined and he would, word for word, 'make me watch you both die slowly and beg for mercy.' It sounds corny now, but damn," the Brit breathed, "did it really scare the wits outta me."
No. Flynn had to be lying- he didn't care about him, just used him for the job. It was completely willing. Yeah.
"But, yeah, now he's gone and you're still here and I'm still here. Still a lot of evidence of the burns despite a two year break, but I'm still here." Flynn looked up at him again.
He blinked. Nate blinked back.
"Well?" the blond pressed. "Going to tell me I'm bluffing? Shoot me and succeed in what the bloody grenade couldn't," he scoffed in a darkly humorous tone.
"N- no," the treasure hunter replied. "It's just- I thought- it's a lot to take in, I just-" He stopped himself and squeezed the bridge of his nose before continuing. "All this time. Well, shit," he murmured to himself.
This wasn't what he expected.
NOTE: Clearly, Flynn is lying about not remembering what happened, but he is telling the truth about Lazarevic!
