Updated! It's been super-fun talking to reviewers about developments and all sorts of interesting things about Tangled in general as well as the story. I've somehow managed to gather a totally cool bunch of reader-reviewers!

Flynn Wanted

~5~

"Where are you going?" Rapunzel asks – her tone is a little worried but otherwise reasonable.

"I don't know," Eugene answers like a stone wall. He stares off into the distance and actively avoids looking at her, his fingers locked together and his shoulders drawn up high.

"Well, when are you coming back?" she asks more urgently this time, she wants to find something to hold onto. She needs some explanation as to why the man she loves – who appeared to love her back – has climbed up to her window at great risk not to spend time with her, but to tell her he's leaving.

"I don't know," he repeats; the level of his voice and intonation are all so perfectly replicated he could be on a loop. He hasn't moved an inch, still hunched over himself, tight shoulders pulling his elbows in and fingers fisted together in the middle of his lap.

"Why are you going?" she pleads at last, and this time he turns to eyes for the briefest of moments before he looks away again.

"I can't tell you," he breaks as gently as he can, but he can see well enough how hurt she is – but he can't, he just can't tell her, because he can't tell anyone.

As soon as he worked it out Eugene realised he couldn't let the word get out about Francis. This was all his fault; he'd become Flynn Rider in the first place, led his friend into believing in the fantasy, and then abandoned him not once but twice – first when he left home, then when he quit being Flynn Rider, their hero, the one thing they thought was right about a world that seemed all wrong to kids like them. He's hurt him enough already, the word still scrawled across his bedroom wall gives that much away, and he can't – won't – hurt him any more.

If he points the finger at Francis – who again he remembers isn't much older than the girl standing before him, scared and frightened – then he condemns him. He might not be executed, but it would still mean prison, and from there it only goes downhill; just like the residents of the Snuggly Duckling. They all had dreams, and look where they ended up until Rapunzel came along. So Eugene is not putting Francis there; he'd rather go back himself. However, he can't let him carry on trying to be the new Flynn Rider, either. That's only going to get him caught – with or without Eugene's help. So it's clear. He has to save him. He has to find Francis himself and set him straight; he's sure if he stops Francis now, catches him quickly, he can still turn it back around.

The fact that it's been almost ten years since Eugene saw him last doesn't make a difference – that the boy was nine and crying the day he ran away – his feelings haven't changed. Francis was his best friend, his most loyal ally – his younger brother, and it didn't matter if it was by blood or not. He's kid Eugene got into fights for when others tried to bully him, took the blame when he got into trouble – stole presents for him on Christmas and birthdays, even at the risk of a beating from Auntie.

He looked after him – took the sniffling teary mess who arrived only months after Eugene did, and turned him into a real child who could smile and laugh. Now that Francis needs his help again, he's going to come through.

It's no benevolent act either; he's guilty because he became so wrapped up in his own caricature of himself that it wasn't befitting to think of the snot-nosed kid, who'd been just as instrumental in creating the persona as he had. He couldn't admit to Flynn Rider's humble origins, so only now does he see how much he has to make up for. He has to right one more of Flynn Rider's wrongs, before he ruins any more lives; like he almost ruined Rapunzel's – something he will never forget as long as he lives his precious returned-life.

Obviously he knows she is upset about his leaving, and of course he doesn't like doing it, but if he tells Rapunzel she would want to let her family know the truth – who in turn would inform the Kingdom Guard, who would then try capture Francis and make him pay for his crimes.

Although Eugene may not be a criminal himself any more, he is not having that 'justice' be done – not by his hand. Even though he trusts Rapunzel, and knows he could swear her to secrecy, someone could overhear them, or she could make a mistake, or any number of innocent accidents might let the cat out of the bag. It's a risk he's not willing to make, because if no one else knows, then Eugene can be sure Francis is still safe.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, but it isn't good enough.

"Don't apologise, just tell me why, Eugene," she begs, and reaches for his shoulder. He tenses against her – if he lets his guard down too far, he'll give in to her and he's sworn to himself he will not.

"There's just... something I have to do," he explains slowly, like each word is physically painful. "Something... I have to fix."

"Is it about Flynn Rider?" she guesses, but he doesn't react, lets out no tell.

"...No," he lies. "I just need to go away for a while." Rapunzel is quiet, touches her fingers to her mouth, biting her lower lip worrisomely.

"Is it... something I said?" she says at last, and his heart wrenches.

"No," he rushes, and cannot help but look up at her, "of course not. I swear, I wouldn't leave unless I had to," he insists, and barely resists getting up to hold her, let her know that he still loves her more than anything.

"And... you're sure you have to?" Rapunzel feels like screaming and crying at the same time; feels like throwing herself into his lap and sobbing into his shoulder while she hits him for making her so upset in the first place.

"Yes," he answers without hesitation, and then again, "I'm sorry."

The fact that he seems just as pained by this as she is makes it worse somehow; even though Rapunzel tells herself she isn't a child any more – doesn't cry like one – she feels tears filling her eyes. She tries not to blink, wills them away, but he's leaving and he won't tell her why. Eugene's never left her side willingly before now, and she's scared he won't come back, or that his feelings for her have changed and this is a way for him to escape. At last she's forced to blink, and it pushes out a tear, which rolls from the corner of her eye and alongside her nose, evaporating coolly in the coldness of the night.

"Oh sweetheart," Eugene rushes when he notices, the cracks in his heart splitting even deeper, "don't cry. Please don't cry." He gets to his feet and cups her face in his hands, rubbing away the tear-streak with his thumb as if it's really that easy.

"When do you have to go?" she asks lamely, and squeezes her eyes shut again; two more tears throb out, and his fingers come again to blot them.

"As soon as possible," he murmurs, and then pulls her close to him, holds her tight and tries to soothe the way her small chest heaves against him. "I'm so sorry," he says, "there's just no other way."

For a while she says nothing – unable to – so she just silently cries into him and tries to understand. She wonders if it's her fault, if there's anything she can do, or if there's nothing she can do and that's why he's going.

"Shhh," he hushes as he strokes the back of her head, feeling her cry against him and knowing it's his fault; he'd punch himself in the face if it'd give either of them any sense of justice. "I'm coming back. It's not forever."

"Promise?" she asks, a tiny, fragile voice that matches her perfectly in this moment. He pulls back and looks her in the eyes, the huge green irises boring into him.

"I promise," he echoes, and then pulls her into a kiss; short and restrained, he can't let himself get too drawn in or he'll drown, but it reassures her enough to stop the tears. "You won't even miss me," he adds with false brightness. "Barely notice I'm gone." She smiles even though it still hurts, and sniffs, rubs her face with the back of her hand.

"I will," she contradicts, and traces her finger down the front of his tunic, feeling the tough ridged line of stitch in the material. Eugene's breath hitches in his throat, he looks up at the ceiling and prays for strength.

"I should go soon," he mutters weakly; for his own sake – if he stays much longer, he's going to lose his grip on himself. Rapunzel's face falls immediately, and her hand freezes where it sits against his chest.

"Really? Now?" she pleads. "You can't stay a little longer?"

"No," he answers shortly. It's nighttime, but not as late as he usually dares to climb up here, so aside from totally losing his mind and spilling his heart for her like a gutted fish, they could still be caught at any moment. "It's not safe."

"You won't stay til morning? You can set off in the morning," she tries to negotiate. "You can sleep here too, if you need-"

"Rapunzel," he cuts her off before she gets too far ahead of yourself. "You know we can't risk that." She bites her lip uncomfortably, she knows, but it doesn't stop her asking.

"It wouldn't be a risk if-" she begins in a hurry, words tumbling over each other, "-if we were m-"

"No," Eugene interrupts sharply, and holds a finger over her lips. "Honey, you know the rules." She nods despondently – she knows the rules. There's no talking about the m-word, not even if he's leaving. That particular word was banned soon after Rapunzel had returned to her family; everything seemed so perfect, and it looked like the next obvious step, that's how it happened in all her storybooks. Marriage.

But Eugene flat-out refused to entertain even the discussion of it. It was too soon, he said, too soon to even think about it; they'd barely known each other a week, and she was only just of age to marry, let alone be thinking seriously about it. It was a point that no amount of attrition could affect, no matter how hard she'd wheedled, cajoled, negotiated or even begged. He simply would not give.

It wasn't that Eugene didn't want to settle – he'd love nothing more than marrying her, together until death do them part – again – becoming a prince, getting his castle; not to mention being able to kiss her in public, to see her alone without needing to sneak about, and... everything else.

But it isn't for his sake, it's for hers. He is experienced in the world, he's seen and done most of what there is to see and do, while she's only just getting to know it. She's too young – for him and for marriage, so Eugene refuses to put a ring on her and trap her down, not until she's had a chance to be free; not until their relationship has had time to settle. Not until he's sure she wouldn't be happier with someone else.

Because their relationship has obstacles, that much is glaringly obvious. He's from the wrong background, he's older, and he's the first man she's ever seen. So he cannot help wondering if there are others – others who might be better for her. Sure, he doesn't want or intend to step aside if someone else came along, but he honestly couldn't bear to give everything to her on a plate if she might... grow out of him, or even worse – fall in love with someone else, someone far better for her than he is. He doesn't feel worthy – knows he isn't worthy, and a consistent and vocal doubt in his mind reminds him that there must be men who are.

"Don't worry," he consoles when she is silent and hurt. "I'm coming back, I promise," he states again, and settles his hands on her shoulders. "You'll be fine." He's firm, because she does need to learn how to be fine on her own. She's too used to having one figure in her life that gives her everything, who looks after her. He knows first-hand she's more than capable at handling herself, but she's not confident enough to know it yet.

"I will?" she says softly, questioning herself more than him.

"Yes," he insists. "Maybe it'll be good for you, even."

"I wish I could go with you," she says aversively; she doesn't want to be alone, she feels small and incapable and helpless when she's alone.

"That would look pretty bad," he points out. "We both disappear at the same time? It'll look like I've kidnapped you."

"Or like we've el-" she begins, and then stops abruptly when he fixes her with a serious look; eloped is just as undiscussable a word as marriage. "Fine," she sighs, lowering her head, accepting what she cannot change. She trusts that if Eugene says he's coming back, he's coming back no matter what. He's come back for her through near and actual death before.

"Thank you," he breathes with relief; it means a lot that she accepts his decision, even if she doesn't fully understand, as leaving her on bad terms would be unbearable. "I really should go," he says regretfully. "The sooner I go, the sooner I can come back."

"Okay," she accepts brokenly. She'll let him go, maybe not happily, but certainly not without saying goodbye properly. She reaches up and wraps one hand around his neck, one resting on the side of his face, fitting neatly around his ear, and pulls him down to her level.

Even she knows no goodbye between lovers is complete without a kiss, and she won't have a half-there, held-back kiss this time. She doesn't want the kisses that make her fear he's losing interest, like he doesn't to be with her any longer than he has to. She wants to really feel him, to know he still wants her.

So she kisses him hard, almost hangs from him, and Eugene resists for only a moment before he loses the internal battle, and his fingers dig into her desperately as he forgets about everything else, loses himself; he twists her head to one side, lips part and he reaches for her like a parched plant for water, only he can't seem to ever quench the thirst and just keeps drinking.

Eventually he forces his mouth to close, bites down on his lips to stop himself, and pulls away from her, a tortured expression as part of his mind actively tries to throttle the other half.

"Goodbye, then," she says reluctantly, and Eugene looks at her blankly for a second, finding it hard to think; he has to blink several times and take a deep breath before he's capable of speaking coherently again, as the sense of reality slowly seeps back into his mind. At last he fixes her with a clear look, but his farewell is overwhelmingly underwhelming.

"See ya."

She nods, and then they longingly separate; she fetches her braided hair so he can get down, and he walks over to the balcony lost in thought.

He wonders if he should say something, if it'll help comfort or reassure her. He knows it's true, feels it more certainly than he's ever felt anything before in his life, but he doesn't want to hit her with that before it's right; she's in deep enough with him already, he doesn't want to start bogging her down even more.

So he stands on the edge of the balcony, waiting to go – neither of them says a word, but it feels like a constantly ongoing conversation between her body and his – until eventually he decides they're in too deep already, it can't possibly get any worse.

"Hey Rapunzel," he says softly, and she looks up in question. "Goodbye." He pauses for a single moment, not even enough time to take a breath. "I love you."

Then he drops, sliding down too fast to catch her reaction, but as he's half-way to the ground, he hears her voice ricocheting down after him.

"Eugene!" she screams into the night – she can't see him any more, but he's listening, and who cares who can hear them she'd scream it in the middle of town square if he let her. "I love you too!"

For once a disgustingly sweet ending to a chapter. See I do have a soul! It's made of marshmallow fluff =D

This chapter goes out to my gal Mint who might not even read this anyway, but she loves the angst and I wrote this thinking 'Oh my god she would SO be all over this'.

Reviews are awesome, it's basically just an excuse for me to chat with most of you about nonsensical Tangled-things like why I hate the Kingdom being called Corona, latin origins for said Kindom, and why Eugene would never EVER join the Royal Guards.