tipstheodds | [RP] train-wrecked;

[RP] train-wrecked;

[ what harry remembers:

the gunshot had been extraordinarily loud in the train car. it'd taken him a few seconds to register what had happened out of shock, disbelief that it'd actually happened. his eyes had gone from lazaveric's face to the gun in his hand, then to nate's face and darted to the color blossoming on his shirt. he'd been so focused on the conversation, the let's gos not getting into nate's head to remember, even think about the monster on board, how much attention they'd attracted -

they'd fled back to a further car when the lackeys came out, huddling together behind a seat and nate had looked way too pale, too much blood on his shirt and jeans and hands and no time to do anything but clutch their guns and wait for a clear line of sight to go down shooting. there'd been more than a few times during this venture where harry had questioned the wisdom of dicking lazaveric over, but strangely enough that hadn't been one of them despite death staring them in the face.

then the car had exploded and things went black.

when he comes to he's cold, freezing to the bone and the wind's howling somewhere above his head. he's numb, but he works himself up onto his palms, something - what, is that snow? definitely snow, right, the train had been headed for the himalayas after all - sliding off him as he moves to gauge the situation. it comes out roughly to this: the train lays in pieces all around him, burning and half-buried. his head's pounding (that's a possible concussion) and he can barely feeling anything, and there's nobody at all. no thugs, no chloe, no lazaveric. no nate.

goddammit.

he forces himself to his feet, working sluggishness out of his limbs as he moves. ]

Nate! NATHAN! Where the hell are you, you dumb git?!

[ assuming he can answer. assuming he's not dead. don't you dare be dead. he moves forward, winding his way through the wreck, trying to make himself be heard above the screaming winds whipping around the mountain. ]

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[It hurts, everything hurts and it's messed up because he doesn't want to think about it. Harry.. Harry actually shot him. Not that he wouldn't have put it past the other to but... he had. All the threats, the times he thought that the other would never even dare to pull the trigger.

The train, he blew up the damn train just to get away. With his luck, it worked but also with his luck, he was in this situation. He'd pulled himself up the train, onto the cliff, through the snow.. From the back of his head, thoughts ran into him without mercy. You idiot, you moron! What made you think this was going to work? Chloe? Yeah, she said she hadn't wanted to be saved but Harry... He'd shot him.

The final soldier crumpled in a heap and with it, Nate felt the pain overcome any sensation that the adrenaline had given him. He fell to his knees, dropped his gun, then collapsed. He was going to die here and for what?

Nothing.

Shouting, somewhere in the distance. He didn't care anymore.]

[ christ it's cold out here. neither of them is dressed for this weather and nate's bleeding out the gut, what chance does he have of finding him alive? harry's no hero - and chloe had just shown them both being a hero doesn't get you much - so what is he doing out here in the first place? what was he doing with nate in the first place? playing pretend, trying to be something he wasn't? ]

Nate!

[ lazaveric is going to skin him alive when he catches up. alive and fully conscious, make him feel every agonizing second of it for betraying him. he's going to die in the snow or die at the hands of a merciless man for his stupid decision to not dick an old partner over. he should just cut his losses here and run, try to find civilization somewhere out in these godforsaken mountains himself.

except that new conscience is gnawing at the back of the mind, keeps his eyes sweeping the snow for any sign of the injured treasure hunter. he's come this far with nate, he at least needs to have the decency to see if he's alive or not. ]

If you can hear me - shit.

[ it's just a split second, where the snow shifts with the wind, but there's color and he heads toward it, slipping with a couple of steps. as he nears he can see bodies around, thugs from the train, and it gives him a measure of hope because they certainly didn't kill themselves. eventually he finds nate, dropping to his knees beside the other man to check his pulse, breathing out a cloud of frost when he finds one beating against his fingers, weak but steady. ]

Swear you're like a cockroach, mate. Past time to get out of here.

[ he has no idea if nate's conscious or not, doesn't matter. he's moving to pull nate up, trying to mind his wound as much as possible but there's going to be pain, there's no way to avoid it. it's a longshot to hope for being able to find some sort of friendly face in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, but hell, harry's at least willing to try. ]

[The voice is closer and he doesn't wanna look up, doesn't want to answer because he's stubborn, confused as hell if it is who he thinks it is. Why was he here, shouldn't he have been on the train with Chloe and the others who Nate really hadn't given a damn about? Come back to finish the job? The thought comes to mind begrudingly and it muddles whatever is being said. He gets shaken out of this mindset when he's picked up suddenly. Harry?

Why is he...?

A loud groan and reaching over, Nate tries-- tries to push the other away. His face is a look of pain, confusion, something caught between a kicked puppy and a wounded animal. The kind willing to lash out.]

What are you-- don't touch me, jackass!

[Is he helping him? The idea doesn't even register in Nate's head. He's mad.]

[ well, that's a rather strange reaction. but then again nate's been shot by the girl they tried to rescue, lost a lot of blood, been in a trainwreck and - judging by the other bodies - been in one hell of a gunfight by himself. odd reactions on the other's half are excusable, and if he's honest it just makes harry more worried. he really doesn't want nate dying on him, that would basically be the rotten cherry on this shit sundae.

he ignores the hand trying to push him away, drags one of nate's arms around his shoulders and pull him to his feet, holding nate by the chest instead of the waist to avoid pressing on the wound. keeps him close, because they're going to need all the warmth they can get. ]

Look, if this is about the time I poked fun at your weight then I apologize but this really is not the time for it. We need to get out of here before you bleed out or we become a nice couple of ice statues to add to the landscape. C'mon, walk with me if you can.

[ he starts moving forward. where? god if he knows, it's just snow and mountains out here, but moving's better than sitting still and waiting to die. at least away from the bodies in the snow and the metal corpse of the train. ]

[He's been through all sorts of hell in the past, why is this different? Is it because he's the one who got screwed over, because he didn't get to help anyone that he wanted to? Not Jeff, not Chloe, not even Elena or Harry-- no one he wanted to believe in is around, or on his side anymore. He's berating himself inwardly but with the shifting he struggles against it, not wanting to accept this help. He'd rather go at it by himself, not if it means trusting in the guy who screwed him over for believing in him in the first place. ]

You-- what the hell are you talking about? [A grimace and with a sharp breath in, Nate looks away, pushes himself to walk. He's still trying to squirm away, feeling like this is a horrible situation, just being in the other's company.] Let go of me Harry, I mean it!

[DESPERATE TIMES! Trying to bring up whatever strength he has left, he pushes away at Flynn, trying to break free.]

Oh, and leave you to bleed out in the middle of what is practically the Arctic tundra? Yes, brilliant idea mate, but I'd rather not deal with Ms. Fisher trying to kill me when she finds out. And she will find out, because journalists always do.

[ as nate squirms more he huffs out a cloud of cold air, adjusting his grip on the treasure hunter; his hand grabs nate's belt to get a firmer grip on him and keep him from twisting away. nate's fighting him way too hard and he's starting to doubt the 'delusional' theory a bit, and it's beginning to make him confused. just why in god's name is nate suddenly so adverse to him?

still, it doesn't matter. harry will carry him if he has to, to keep him from bleeding himself out like an idiot. and he's going to state as much: ]

I have no idea what your issue is, but you keep moving like that and I will carry you the rest of the way. Don't think I won't.

There's... a difference. [He manages to huff that part out at least; being a wise-ass at a time like this? Old habits die as hard as he does, apparently. Bringing up Elena stings because he can't imagine how she feels right now, wherever she is. At the least, she's safe and he can reassure himself with that thought. ] The Arctic Tundra is nowhere near here, moron.

[Another insult - it doesn't even feel right to say this time. The change in grip has him even closer and at one moment, Nate's reaching forward, pressing his palm to Flynn's cheek, trying to push this time.]

I'd like to see you try, Harry.

I meant that it's freezing, you git. [ sometimes he wonders why he puts up with you, nate. now is one of those times.

he pulls a face when nate starts pushing on his cheek, smearing blood across his skin, and he lets out an agitated sound. yes, nate is injured and yes, that's a concern but he feels in the right when he's being fought every step of the way for pretty much no visible reason, because his enjoyable companion has yet to explain anything. so you know what? at those words, that challenge, he's going to stop. ]

As you wish, Your Majesty. God save the Queen.

[ you asked for it, nate. so he shifts, bending down to get his other arm behind his knees and pretty much sweep him off his feet with a billow of snow from the movement, holding him in his arms as one would carry a bride. he just gives him one of those smirks and starts off through the snow again, an easier endeavor when he's not being fought every step of the way - even if nate is a tad heavy. ]

What a pretty picture you make, love. We should look into getting you a nice gown.

[ being a wise-ass? harry can more than play that game too. ]

Wha-- hey!

[It's a shout as he gets hoisted up-- it's not a pleasant feeling, knowing that he's in the arms of the man who left him in this states in the first place. He's still bleeding everywhere and he's surprised he's still conscious with his well-being on the line but he supposes that adrenaline just does damn wonders. He's pushing at Harry again, twisting and writhing and making it more difficult for both him and the other because not only is this making his wound worse, it's just slowing Harry down.

And at this time, he can't tell if Harry's carrying him so he can throw him off a cliff, or actually get him some help.]

Ah ha ha. Funny. [He leans away from the other, finally giving up when he feels he has no energy left. Damnit...] What are you doing, Harry? First shoot me, now help me?

[ he gives a silent prayer when nate finally goes limp, out of energy from his struggles. it'd been precarious holding him and trying to walk while doing it, sent him stumbling more than a couple of times and just barely able to regain his balance and keep nate from falling in the snow again. the snow and ground is slippery enough without nate helping him to fall, thank you very much. he adjusts his grip on the other one he finally falls still, continuing on with him securely in his arms.

but at that accusation, he shoots nate a look that may be odd to see - it's startled, genuinely so. ] Shoot you? What in God's name are you going on about?

[ because seriously? that was chloe, man. he almost wants to crack another joke, 'yeah we get mixed up a lot', but being accused of that? it's a little too serious for his tastes to make jokes. not when that particular shot has a real chance to end nate's life if they can't find help way out here. and he may be no hero, but he thought his loyalties (however misplaced, in the face of the punishment lazaveric is sure to dole out to him - sometimes he wonders how he managed to keep his skin in tact in nepal) were clear by now. and he's certainly not enough of a dick to break them out of the blue.

aren't you? that newfound conscience whispers somewhere in his head, and he's getting annoyed with it already. ]

I'm talking about the train! [He's provoked, reaching up to lash a fist at his face because that question just riles him up, pisses him off. Breathing in sharply, he grits his teeth, struggles even more as he tries to make coherent thoughts.]

Oh, that's classic! Pretend you didn't do anything, yeah sure. [The words are hissed, he shakes his head and pushes away from the other--he'll even settle for rolling out of the other's arms because then at least he can tackle Harry down long enough to punch him in his face.] What the hell's wrong with you?

[He's hurt. His expression and voice say just as much, and the pain's making it harder to keep his expression away from how he's really feeling.]

[ WELL that definitely smarts. he stumbles back from the unexpected hit, falling backwards when he loses his balance and landing on his back with a hard thud, the wind knocked out of him from the impact. he wheezes, coughs, trying to get it back and making sure to keep some sort of hold on nate so he can't get away while he's otherwise incapacitated, lying under him in the snow. when he speaks it's with a hoarse sort of wheeze, still trying to get his breath back. ]

I'm not - I'm not pretending, that was Chloe! How the hell could you mix us up? [ he sits up, getting a better grip on nate to tug him back close - and pausing when he sees the expression on the other man's face.

hurt. he's hurt. he's not faking it, as much as harry's not faking his confusion over the accusations flung at him. harry can count on one hand the times he's seen expression like this on nate's face, so it gets him sobering up, considering the situation. he really thinks he shot him. what is going on here? ]

Nate, I didn't shoot you, I swear. If I had I'd certainly come up with a better excuse than this. I get why you were so angry now, but listen - [ have a light poke to the chest here, nate, to emphasize the 'listen' part. ]

You're shot and bleeding out. It has to be below freezing out here. Lazaveric's men could catch up to us at any moment. If we don't get help soon - if you don't get help soon - then there's a very distinct possibility we're both going to die out in these Godforsaken mountains. Just... put everything else aside at least long enough for us to find help. [a pause, and then a very rare thing to hear from harry flynn - ]

Please.

[He's down, Harry's down and Nate's mind is arguing with him but instinct is pushing him to get the hell away, get some sort of distance between the two of them because maybe it'll help defuse him. It doesn't happen and there's a sound of frustration as he's pulled back in. Doesn't he get that he's not going down without a fight, not after all the bullshit he's been through?

Whatever. He's done with this-- or not because the words are getting through (they're the only things for him to focus on at this point, if he doesn't want to remind himself how painful it is) and it's not.. they're not lining up. The poke gets a wince.]

Ah.. [Reaching up, he fumbles for his collar, tugs Harry down so he can look him straight in the eye, as best as he can, worn and pained as he is.] I swear-- if you're lying to me...

[ harry lets himself be pulled down, albeit with something of a surprised noise, quiet as he listens to nate talk. the words get something of a humorless smirk, though. ]

If I were lying, I wouldn't say 'please'. [ that's reserved for dire circumstances like this, and it still feels weird to say, to mean so earnestly. sure, one half is that he doesn't want to die out in this snowstorm, but the other half? is that he cares what happens to the idiot, somehow. it's a weird feeling, his morals and conscience gaining root again when they've been quiet for so long, and one he's not quite sure of. he's spent so long in the mindset that he's not a hero, not a good guy, done more than a few things that fall safely in the black zone of the spectrum because the underground world he operates him had jaded him. these things should be left to people like nate. but, well...

either way, he puts a hand over his heart, raising the other in the air. ] Boy Scout's promise. No lies. And if I am, you get a free potshot on the house.

[ there's a hand held out to nate. ]

Deal?

[Staring. He can't do much but that, expression trying to register just what's happening. It's hard to tell the difference, Harry's sarcasm between whether he's being serious but the fact that he said please is unsettling enough. Tense, his grip on that collar tightens and finally, he lets go. He reaches out for that hand.]

Deal.

[Just in time! He's settling against Flynn with reluctance, but that's all he remembers. He's out cold.]

[ ... and nate's out cold. harry allows himself a laugh, shaking his head. ]

And just in time. [ he picks nate up again, making sure to avoid aggravating the wound, huddling him close as he trudges off through the snow again. in nothing but mountains and blinding white it seems like hours that he moves onward and onward, getting colder and losing energy with every passing second, still desperately looking for some sign of help for them and checking every so often to make sure nate's still breathing. it's when he's lost the ability to go further, collapsing to his knees and holding nate close without really thinking about it, too tired to think, that salvation comes.

the village is warm, at least warmer than the mountains, with sun, greenery and life all around, and it's a hell of a welcome sight. he can't understand a lick of what anybody's saying, but it hardly matters. he wakes up after an impromptu nap of eighteen hours, gets acquainted with with tenzin and karl and meets up with elena again, arguing with her in a backroom away from the other villagers while nate sleeps on, giving him a chance to get his bearings on the situation here.

and it doesn't make sense.

he's still mulling it over a few days later, sitting on a stone wall with a fresh cup of the foul brew tenzin has him drinking to make sure he didn't suffer anything from the cold, staring out over the mountains with furrowed brows and a frown on his face. none of it adds up to him, but it corroborates nate's accusations - if he betrayed nate in the museum like elena said, why wouldn't he shoot him if he kept getting in the way?

except he didn't betray nate in the museum. it was chloe pulled the wool over both their eyes. he distinctly remembers sitting in the prison cells with nate for three months, seething over the betrayal together and acting out shadow puppets on the wall to pass the time.

he huffs a sigh, takes another drink of the brew. ]

Just what the hell is going on here?

[It's warm. It doesn't make sense but slowly, he's waking up and the thoughts are already swirling around in his head. It still hurts, but it's not as bad as it had been earlier. It's warm, not what he expected but then again, isn't Hell supposed to be the hottest place around? Slowly, Nate's pushing himself up.

Not Hell.

He meets this strange man--he doesn't speak his language, but he's not Harry at least and that makes things feel a little better at least. Following him through the village, it's a marvel that baffles him at every little turn. He breathes in, takes the fresh air for what it is, the warmth, the grass--the sun even, he never thought he would have missed the sun as much as he did.

And then, Elena. Then Schäfer. Things were discussed and just when Nate was ready to turn around and head home, Elena stopped him. They talked. He spoke to her about what he'd hallucinated about. Harry, helping him after shooting him. Could she believe it?

The quiet look on her face didn't help to quell the twisting of his stomach. She pointed the man out, gestured to a direction and Nate was off almost instantly. He stopped, slowed down just as he caught sight of the damn Brit. A breath in, his expression twisted and he couldn't help but remember the words that'd been said. He was quiet as he stepped closer.]

[ he doesn't notice nate, not immediately. he's finished his drink and is fingering the small ceramic cup over and over as he stares at the mountains without seeing them, lost in his thoughts, trying to make sense of everything. except it doesn't make sense, everybody remembering a different line of events than him. how's he supposed to trust his own memories when he's cast as a true blue villain in everyone else's? not to mention it's almost a bit sad that what they remember, what elena and nate remember, sounds more believable even to him.

he's not a hero. and lazaveric is goddamn terrifying. it would've made more sense to stay on his good side.

still, eventually there's a prickle along his neck, an insistent feeling that draws him out of his thoughts. he blinks, glances around for a moment to regain his bearings and it's then that he sees nate standing a few feet away, staring at him, the other man's expression hard to read. ]

Ah. Nice to see you, Sleeping Beauty. [ he cracks a small grin, a tiny shadow of the usual thing that drops quickly. his morale's a bit depleted by all of this, truth be told. ] Should I be preparing for a broken nose?

[He doesn't understand. Harry could have killed him at any time and in that moment in time, in the snow, he didn't. He got Nate help, and now that Nate is feeling a lot better, he's more capable of protecting himself and beating Flynn's face in if he wants to. The sad part? He doesn't want to, but that doesn't mean to say that he isn't guarded, confused as he sees the other look to him. He gets close enough so that the other is in his range if he needs to reach out and beat his face in. The question has him tense and he makes a face.

Brows furrowed, he leans against the wall beside him, looks down.] --Three months ago, I would have just started beating that face in.

[Now? He's not so sure. Not when the words bear heavy on his mind and he can't make heads or tails-- Elena slapped him earlier, didn't she say that? He can still make out the red mark against Flynn's cheek if he looks hard enough. A breath in and he straightens up, looks over.] I don't get it. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't.

[ the mark still stings, too, but honestly he just thanks his lucky stars she didn't go for the family jewels after hearing her version of what happened in nepal. he remembers jeff, the kid who wound up in an awful place at the worst time, how coldly lazarevic had executed him and the sheer terror he'd felt, wondering if he'd be next when the monster's eyes fell on him. but elena remembered him as a cold bastard holding nate at gunpoint and dragging chloe out instead of one of the men who'd been with them, trying to keep jeff alive in the chaotic war-torn streets.

it's strange, not remembering the things you've apparently done. a tad disturbing. ]

Well, I didn't leave you for a frozen corpse out on the mountain. How's that work? [ he sighs, puts the cup down on the stone wall and stands - he moves away from nate though, not toward, pacing with hands clasped behind his back. ] Look, I've got no idea what's going on here, just that I remember things much... much differently than you and Elena, apparently. [ he pauses. eyes on the sky briefly before a hand goes up to rub his cheek, and tacked on, just because: ]

She hits hard, you know that?

[Jeff... Another person he got dragged into this mess. Listening, he watches Harry, tries to find any hints of the heartless bastard who went from seeing him as an old friend to nothing more than a fly on the wall, the kind that needed to be gotten rid of immediately. It's hard to try and give him a chance but... Harry got him help. Why, he still doesn't know because Lazarevic has all of the things he needs and with this, he can't possibly need anything from Nate, right?

Trying to recompose himself, Nate lifts a hand, presses palm to his face so he can rub at it, tired and worn. The words pry a smile from his face and for what it counts, he nods.] She does have a mean hook.

[He wants to say what he knows: you shot me. Instead he keeps quiet after the agreement, thinking about what to say. Would it make him feel better if he beat all of Flynn's teeth out, threw him off a cliff? The answer is no, but a few moments in the snow doesn't erase months worth of betrayal, years of a friendship he thought he'd keep. ]

What's going on, Harry? Why are you here?

[ the agreement gets a small chuckle from him, the smirk that crosses his mouth something more genuine. from a girl used to nate's run of luck, though, he wasn't all that surprised to discover the fact. for a journalist she really knows how to handle herself.

the question, though, that's a difficult one to answer. one that he could usually answer with ease. he knows what nate means behind it because he knows what nate thinks he's done - why is he here, why is he helping after he shot him? but harry doesn't remember holding a gun at nate or firing, what he remembers is standing next to nate, trying to convince him to find some way off the train because obviously chloe didn't want to go when she shot him. with everybody else remembering awful things about him, why is he here? ]

I don't know. [ a shrug. ] Maybe I should've took off when no one was looking. Out in the snow I thought you were just delusional from bloodloss when you said I shot you but Elena's memories corroborates yours. I have no idea what's going on here, truth be told, and it'd probably be best if I headed for higher ground before someone gets sick of my face.

[ because honestly, he's surprised elena didn't shoot him. he would be more surprised at nate's lack of violence if he wasn't also acquainted with the man's morals, even in the most ridiculous of situations like this. he talks big but most of the time he lacks the bite to do anything, even when he has all the right to, and it's both confusing and irritating to someone like harry, it always has been. he likes nate but sometimes he really doesn't get him, wishes he could knock some sense into that thick skull of his.

or maybe he just wants to drag him a little further to his level out of spite. these days he's not so sure which it is, which it has been.

he shakes the thought off. ] Then again the only place I can go is back to the mountains, and that's not a particularly warming thought. Figuratively and literally.

-- Don't do that.

[There's a look of distaste at the comment and the idea of Harry just leaving after that because yeah maybe it'll take away the confusion but it won't get rid of it, clear it up completely. It'll only give Nate a chance to sweep it up under the rug like a lot of the bad memories he has but doesn't want to talk about. The ones he does like talking about are used for jokes, so that doesn't help either.]

You stayed for a reason, don't go changing your mind again. [Frown tight on his face, he breathes in through his nostrils and thinks about how to handle this, what to say and what to do. It bothers him, he'll admit it but at the same time he's mature enough not to tackle the other down and knock his lights out. ] Why... don't you start from the beginning?

If I don't like it, I get a free hit. [His hand lifts to extend but instead he settles it back, over the wrapped stomach wound.]

[ he blinks, a little surprised at being told off for thinking of leaving. it wasn't something he was exactly expecting. but at the request and the comment he grins a little, amused at the throwback to the promise made in the snow, nods his agreement. ] Sounds good to me.

[ he settles back on the wall, eyes going back out to the horizon as his hands clasp together, twiddling his thumbs as he considers how to start. hums softly to himself. ] The beginning, eh? All right...

[ so he starts from the beginning. hiring drake for the job with him and chloe, infiltrating the museum in the dead of night, making their way to the lamp. finding the map and figuring out what it meant, and - where their memories start to split - heading to chloe and the getaway van together. how an alarm had rung out in the middle of it, putting them on overdrive to avoid getting caught, how they'd barely made it back to chloe.

how she'd taken the map from them and sped off, leaving them at the mercy of the security, letting them rot in a prison for three months.

sully and chloe bailing them out, the initial distrust, infiltrating lazarevic's camp in borneo to get at the journals. (and a brief pause to express indignation at the replacement lazaveric had hired for him, because really, what was he thinking the man couldn't find his own ass with two hands.) escaping to nepal, the debacle with lazaveric and jeff and chloe being taken away, how he and nate had gone on the train to find her and the explosive end that'd taken.

he claps his hands together when he's finished, spreading them out in a shrug. ] And that's how I remember it. You may notice the lack of me ever pointing a gun at you.

[He listens, each and every detail of it so close to what he remembers, except not quite. Harry never makes himself out as the bad guy, it's Chloe that he's blaming. It almost sounds sincere and honest too, which is why it worries Nate a little more, the longer he listens. The museum, Borneo, being betrayed again and again, Jeff... Harry's not the bad guy in that story, and while everyone else would say 'I wonder why', Nate would like to believe that. Because that's the Harry Flynn he remembers and trusts.

His expression softens for a moment and he looks like he's about to say something along the lines of 'I believe you'. Then Flynn opens his big mouth again and his wound hurts with the words. Gritting his teeth, Nate shakes his head, hands clenching into fists.

The next thing eh knows, he's grabbing Harry by the collar, throwing him to the ground and there they are: two grown men wrestling in the snow.] Why did you--

[Nate's getting out words, half-sentences when he can. Why can't it be like that, why isn't that the truth', things like that. He knows it's stupid to believe he can have his friends on his side --all of them-- but he wants that.]

Harry, why does it have to be this way?!

[ no one could ever say harry flynn knew when to keep his mouth shut. he'd meant it as a light jab, he hadn't meant to hurt nate, but clearly he isn't ready to joke about the matter. he thinks he should have known that, but it's too late and he's on the ground, nate on top of him, wrestling and probably making the wound worse after it's just healed.

score one harry flynn for the stupid moves tally.

he struggles, avoids hits when he can and takes them when he can't, trying to get himself out from under nate so he can pin him and keep him from aggravating his wound again, because that's really the last thing anyone needs. ] Nate - Nate!

[ he manages to shove his weight against the other, flipping their positions, straddling nate's hips and grabbing his wrists before another punch can be thrown. he's wet and there's snow sticking in his hair and on his clothes, this position's a bit awkward, but for the moment that's not what he's concentrating. it's the last outburst that gets his attention, because again nate's showing genuine hurt, and that bothers harry.

because, y'know, for some reason he cares. ]

Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have joked about that. But I swear what I said is the truth as I remember it. Look, obviously I can't say 'you can trust me' and have everything be right as rain, considering I'm a right bastard from your point of view. But - [ he hangs his head for a moment, heaves a sigh. harry flynn is not at all a touchy feely person but... ]

You're my friend, mate, though I do think you're bloody daft half the time. I wouldn't do that to you, even if it does mean Lazarebitch is gonna skin me alive when he catches me. [ which he does view as an inevitability, sorry to say. your luck's weird and not all that fortunate nate. ] That's about all I can say.

[ he lets go of nate's wrists, shifts off his hips to sit in the snow beside him instead, let him consider the words. and this time? he's not saying something stupid to jeopardize himself again. ]

[Once Harry has him pinned, Nate's jerking back and forth to give himself some distance and get away so he can hit him again but it's no use- laying there prone, he glares up at the other, brows furrowed because he knows he's showing his true colors again but in the words of Sully, goddamn why the hell does any of this have to happen? Again he's at a loss of words when he's spoken to because he's trying to understand Harry's side of things, really. The betrayal stings but compared to being skinned alive by someone like Lazarevic, he can get where he's coming from. Almost.]

Why do you think I told you not to go? [Expression wry, there's no smile when Harry gets off of him and sits nearby but he looks over, watching for any hint that could warn him. With his luck though, of course there isn't going to be one. So he stays there on the ground, doesn't even prop himself up onto his elbows as he thinks on it.] You really didn't shoot me wherever.. you're from, huh?

[Another world? Hell if he would believe something like that without seeing it, but.. he really would rather not see it. Being shot by Harry was hard enough-- being shot by Chloe? He doubts that makes it any less worse. As strange and stupid as it sounds, he's this close to believing him.] --What was the last thing you told me, that time we got locked up in Spain?

[ it's weird, thinking about it that way. 'another world'. harry's heard of the theory of parallel universes, sure, but it's almost insane to think that that's what's going on here. hell, believing his memories got screwed up and nate and elena are right is easier to accept than that (even if it leaves a terribly bitter taste in his mouth). still, he shakes his head. ]

No.

[ the question, though, gets his attention. his eyes go back to nate and he raises a brow, grinning at the memory of that particular mission. ] Ah, Spain. That was fun. And I believe I told you that you needed to work on your pick-up lines.

[ anita had been as fierce as she was beautiful with a scary aim to boot. nate knows how to pick them and then make them mad at him, especially when they're working for the robbery target. ]

[At least that memory sounds about the same. Finally that smile comes back for a moment, peeks out through the uncertainty clouding Nate's mind and finally he lifts a hand, reaches overt to prod Flynn in the side.]

It really is you. Just less of a ass, kind of. [He exhales, pushes himself onto his elbows so he can look at the other better. Anita had been a terrifying woman and Nate believed all she needed was some reassuring that no one was going to get hurt. How wrong he was.] What are you gonna do, Flynn?

[ he grins when he sees the smile, however small, swatting playfully at nate's hand when he's prodded. ] And there's the Drake I'm used to. Sort of.

[ at the questions he lets out a loud sigh, lets himself flop back into the snow, the impact sending flakes billowing up in a cloud of white. that's a good question he honestly hadn't considered. what is he going to do? he's not exactly going to be easily trusted around here, and as long as lazaveric is alive he's going to be constantly looking over his shoulder, waiting for the monster to come down on him. he looks up at nate, shrugs again, leaving an impression in the snow. ] I haven't the faintest. To borrow from you, I hadn't thought that far ahead.

[ he'd been too busy making sure nate was still alive, arguing with elena and trying to figure out what madness was happening here. he still has no idea on the last point, but at least nate seems to be relaxing around him and accepting what he's saying, so that's good. he looks up at the sky again, frowning, brows furrowing as he thinks it over. with the situation as it is, really, what is there for him to do? ]

[Harry goes down and that prompts Nate to sit up, look at him because it's weird if they're both on the same level in that moment, for that situation, somehow. Watching him, he considers things as they are, thinks on that answer then shifts, moves to sit himself on the Brit's stomach because maybe from here he won't get betrayed somehow (if Harry gets second thoughts again). Looking down at him, he takes a breath in.]

But Flynn, you're crap at being adaptable. [It's an attempt at a joke and the wry smile doesn't leave him. Reaching down, he clenches a hand into a fist and lightly this time, he bumps the side of Harry's face.]

... Stay. That was what you were gonna do anyway, right?

[ he lets out a surprised 'oof' when nate shifts to sit on his stomach, raising a brow up at the treasure hunter. ] You're a little heavy for that. Gonna take the air right out of me. Still a cocky bastard though, aren't you?

[ friendly banter, the things he's used to, and he's glad they're returned to that level of things at least. he lets the tap happen, chuckling at it, though he raises his brows at the suggestion. ]

You sure that's what you want? [ because even for all the banter and friendly gestures, he can still see the slight unease nate regards him with, guarded, waiting for a 'just kidding' and a shot to a more lethal place. it's going to be a little uncomfortable if he's constantly waiting for it, not to mention how elena will react when she hears. he's not at the top of anyone's friendly list right now. ]

Make a doughnut crack and I can't guarantee you'll get up without a black eye, Flynn. [He's good on that threat! Nate might be warming up to Harry again but it's gonna be hard as hell to get back to the level of trust he had in the other. Looking down, he makes a face, raises a brow. Pulling his hand back, he settles it at his sides, on top of the other.]

I don't know exactly what I want. [It's never been that simple; if it's not 'let's find this treasure' or 'we'll get along', then things become ten times more difficult. He knows history, hundreds of years of it, enough to keep him in the know for jobs but with people, with his needs past the basics, it's never been that easy. He looks out towards the village, exhales.] Look, you're either with me or you're not. It's that simple, right?

[Me. Not us, not we. He hopes, anyway.] So what do you say?

[ he holds his hands up in surrender at the threat, even if he's still grinning. he can't help it, it's a lasting joke with him, just as much as anything else they throw around. his hands fall back to the snow, listening to nate as he speaks.

he considers it, the proposal, everything, brows furrowed and head tilting as he takes nate in for a quiet moment. that is rather simple, even if it's probably too simple concerning the situation. nothing's ever simple when betrayal comes into play, and whoever thinks so has never been on the receiving end. still he nods, giving a small smile of his own. ] Sounds a hell of a lot better than wandering back out in the blizzard, if nothing else. Suppose I'll stay.

[ so that's that, for better or worse. hopefully better. ]

[He knows it isn't, but he's trying to make it that way - he just wants to know there's two ways to things instead of a stupid inbetween that gets him stabbed in the back. Nate wants to give this a try, even if it means he's putting himself at risk again. If he gets hurt again, it's his own fault for thinking he can place his faith back into a guy like Harry Flynn.

Still, the smile gets him to exhale and he nods back, shifts to stand and get off of Flynn. Bending down, he reaches a hand out to the other to help pull him up. This is either a big mistake or something that could be good again. He knows he looks ridiculous, tussled with snow and grass everywhere, but that doesn't matter.

Somehow, somewhere, he hopes this will be like the good old days. They're going to screw Lazarevic over. Him, Elena, Chloe, and now Harry.]

Good to have you, then.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[RP] train-wrecked;

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