Character(s): Yuri, Flynn
Warning(s): Minor mention of endgame spoilers.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Namco Bandai or anyone who hold rights to Tales of Vesperia. It isn't mine, I'm just playing with it.
Even before he attempted to open his eyes, Yuri knew that things were off. For a start, his head was killing him. And on top of that, there was also the bed he was apparently laying on. His recollection was a little fuzzy thanks to the icepick of pure, undiluted agony that was trying to crack his skull open from the inside, but he was fairly certain that he'd been pretty far from any sort of bed when he'd last been conscious. Also, it was a really comfy bed. He usually couldn't afford this sort of thing. So what the hell had happened? And was he going to regret waking up?
Slowly, carefully, he cracked one eye open, and shut it an instant later, biting back an accompanying groan. He couldn't ever remember his head feeling this bad before. Hell, he didn't even think LeBlanc yelling into his ear for hours on end could make it hurt this much - not that he was keen on finding out. Just what the hell had happened?
"Are you awake?"
Goddamnit. He remembered now. They'd been taking out one of the last remaining groups of Royal Guard. Stubborn bastards just didn't know when to quit. They still kept clinging to their "commandant's" ideals long after it'd been proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that Alexei'd been a Grade A lunatic. Yuri had tagged along with Flynn's knights for this particular operation. It was only fair since he'd been the one to figure out where those idiots were holed up anyway. Besides, he hadn't had a decent fight in awhile. That always made him antsy.
It'd gotten a little squirrely there at the end, but Yuri preferred it that way. It was so much more fun when things were hectic. And then Flynn had pulled his usual bullshit, pushing him out of the way of a strike he would have easily deflected without any outside interference. Yuri couldn't really remember anything after that, but with the way his head was pounding he could hazard a guess. He'd hit his head on something. Hard. Overprotective Flynn strikes again.
"You asshole," Yuri ground out as he levered himself up on the bed, gritting his teeth a moment later as his head decided to add a large dose of glorious nausea to the fray. Wonderful. Usually, whenever this happened he'd just bitch the idiot out and stalk off. There was only so much of Flynn's - well earned - guilt that he could take in one sitting, after all. Unfortunately, with the way he was feeling right now, Yuri doubted that there would be much stalking in the foreseeable future, and that was assuming he could manage walking at all. Frankly, he wasn't too sure about the merit of even trying at the moment. Ugh.
"I take it you feel like shit?"
Once he was certain that he wasn't going to puke just yet, Yuri opened his eyes to slits and glared across the room at his "best friend". Flynn, the jerk, was sitting over at his desk staring back at him with what amounted to contrite concern. Smart. He was out of range of strangulation, and a quick glance around Flynn's room produced no sharp or heavy objects within reach for him to chuck at the present bane of his existence. Damn it. "How'd you guess?" Yuri grumbled as he reached and gingerly ran his fingers his hair. There was a very distinct area of ow on the left side. That would most likely be where his head had connected with whatever had been in the way. Lovely.
"Ah well, you hit pretty hard and you've been out for a good long while," Flynn said sheepishly, giving Yuri a little apologetic smile before dropping his gaze down to the floor. His expression turned dark as he added, "I was starting to get a little worried."
Yuri grimaced. Oh god, here comes the guilt. Still, in this particular case, it was very much deserved. "This is entirely your fault, you realize?"
"I know. I'm sorry," Flynn at least had the presence of mind to look properly contrite, but Yuri knew damn well that he wasn't all that sorry about it. He was just sorry Yuri had gotten hurt - and definitely guilty as hell about his hand in that -, not because he had interfered again when it wasn't needed or wanted. God, why did he have to get stuck with such a mommy for a best friend? "I can't really help it. It's such an ingrained habit. Whenever I see you doing something stupid, I just have this automatic urge to save you from yourself."
"You're not winning yourself any favors here," Yuri said flatly as he leveled one of his patented glares of death at his friend. Flynn had the temerity to answer it with an outright grin. "I was doing just fine, thank you very much. In fact, I was enjoying myself until you had to butt in and nearly crack my skull open with your help." He cut his tirade short at the look that crossed Flynn's face thanks to that particular turn of phrase. "Oh god, don't tell me you did crack my skull open?"
"Not exactly." Flynn grimaced and fixed his gaze on a point somewhere over Yuri's head. "Hair line fracture. The good news is that the new mana formulas for healing are working out rather well. The bad news is that it's still gonna hurt like a bitch regardless."
Yuri would have rolled his eyes, but he just didn't feel like dealing with the repercussions. Trust Flynn to nearly kill him by simply pushing him out of the way of something he could have handled just fine on his own. Asshole. But that and their current location in Flynn's quarters in the castle did beg the question of what'd happened between then and now, and he had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what had occurred. "Please tell me that you did not carry me the entire way back to the capitol." He made it more of a statement than a question, but he knew he was going to get an answer anyway, and one that he wouldn't like.
"Well, yes." Flynn sounded confused. Of course he would. "What else was I supposed to do?"
Yuri groaned and flopped back down, regretting it an instant later. Ow. He was never going to live this one down. Even if no one had really seen it - and of course they had, the Flynn Brigade had all been present for the operation -, then they would all eventually hear about it anyway because the knights just couldn't seem to keep their mouths shut where gossip was concerned. God, he could hear Tweedle A and Tweedle B mocking him about it already. Why couldn't Flynn have just let him die in peace or something? It would have been the humane thing to do.
"Here." Yuri blinked in surprise as gentle fingers grasped gently at his head. He hadn't heard Flynn get up. "Let me help with that." A moment later the touch turned cool and soothing, smoothing down the ragged edges of pain into something more bearable. "How's that?"
"Better," Yuri mumbled in relief, noting for the first time that Flynn wasn't wearing his armor. Must be pretty late then, he wouldn't have bothered climbing out of his tin suit if he were still on duty. "You're getting pretty handy with those new formulas."
"Well, you know how it is," Flynn muttered absently as he carefully ran his fingertips along the site of the wound, checking to make sure that it was healing up properly. "The commandant has to set a proper example for the rest of the knights. It wouldn't do for me to fall behind on the newly developed healing artes."
Yuri snorted. "Fine example you set what with nearly killing your best friend."
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Flynn said breezily as he straightened up. "They all know how much of a stubborn ass you are. They probably think you deserved it."
"I hate you," Yuri groused.
Flynn chuckled in response before heading back over to his desk. "Love you too."
Yuri lay there comfortably in silence for a few minutes. His head definitely felt better after Flynn's little boost. It felt more like a rhinossus was dancing around inside his skull rather than an icepick relentlessly trying to stab its way out. It still hurt like a bitch, but there were degrees of bitches that he could deal with. He could definitely deal with this one. And while going back to sleep was a very, very tempting thought, he still had stuff to do. At the very least, he should let people know that he wasn't dead. "I should probably get going," he muttered dubiously after a moment's consideration. He really didn't fancy getting up, but some things just had to be endured - kinda like Flynn's cooking. Ugh. On second thought, it would be in his best interest to not think about stuff like that, or he really would end up puking.
"It's after midnight," Flynn said evenly, his tone brooking no arguments from the peanut gallery. "And I let everyone know that you haven't up and croaked on them. Everything's fine, nothing's going to fall apart in your brief absence, so just stay put for once."
Yuri rolled his head to the side and studied Flynn for moment, then sighed and closed his eyes. "Whatever." He couldn't see it, but he could easily imagine the triumphant little smirk his capitulation had produced. Jerk. Well, at least the bed was comfortable, and his head didn't really feel like it was up for much walking anyway. Still, there was one little thing that didn't quite fit. Sighing to himself, Yuri rolled his head back over and eyed Flynn skeptically before asking, "So where are you going to sleep?" He had a sneaking suspicion he already knew the answer to that.
Flynn stiffened at the question, then ducked his head down self-consciously. "Ah, well, I, uh, hadn't really thought that far ahead."
"It figures," Yuri grumbled irritably as he started scooting over. "You were planning to watch over me all night, weren't you? Idiot."
"Guilty as charged," Flynn chuckled goodnaturedly as he stood up and walked back over to the bed, taking the unspoken invitation for what it was. "In my defense, I was pretty worried for awhile there. You weren't waking up and that was a pretty bad knock you took," he added as he sat down and started to pull his boots off.
"You sure there are no chickens in your family's history?" Yuri asked conversationally as he held the blankets up, an amused grin plastered on his face. "You've got the mother hen act down pat and the hair definitely works in favor of that explanation too."
"Har har, very funny," Flynn muttered sarcastically as he lay down and draped the offered covers over himself. "Go to sleep, Mr. Comedian."
"Whatever you say, commandant." They both chuckled at that and shared matching grins before Yuri finally allowed his eyes to drift shut. He really was awfully tired and the pain wasn't helping with that any at all. Sleep probably was his best bet for the time being. Of course, there was still one last consideration to take care of. Not even bothering to open his eyes, Yuri reached up and grabbed the hand that had been reaching for his head. "Stop fretting."
"Fine fine. If that's how you want it," Flynn sighed, sounding very put upon as he lowered his hand back down to the bed. He didn't even try to shake it free from Yuri's grasp, but that wasn't exactly something he wanted to do anyway. "Goodnight, Yuri."
Yuri smiled softly in answer, loosening his grip on Flynn into something much more comfortable. "Goodnight, Flynn."