Richard Armitage (sonofspinners) wrote in lostincamelot,
Richard Armitage
sonofspinners
lostincamelot

"The walking carpet wasn't bossy."

Who: Richard Armitage and Jonas Armstrong
Where: Hungary, then Morgan's Castle
What: A very bad storm goes very wrong.
When: Up to now.
Warnings: These two are still cracky, now with added hangover. And some pain later on.

Richard woke up because there was a very loud noise. He lifted his head, and was slapped in the face by a very agressive hangover. Very quickly, he lowered his head again, until his face touched something that was warm and soft and moved. It took him several moments to realize where he was; he was lying on top of Jonas Armstrong in a car, and it was raining very aggressively. What?

"Nngh?" Jonas asked as he felt movement above him. "Nrgh,...Oww..." he muttered as a blinding headache met him when he tried to force open his eyes. 'grah..." he managed coherently. "Hi Richard."

"Hi Jonas," Richard said, sounding miserable. Why was he lying on top of Jonas in a car? "You pissed too?" He asked, squeezing his eyes shut. He wished the percussion band in his brain would pick a different venue, then realized it was still just the rain.

"Definitely, yeah. " Jonas answered, shaking his head a little to try to clear it though he soon found that moving his head was just a bad idea in general. "Rain." he said, the second he noticed it though it seemed to take longer for the word to reach from his mouth to his brain. "Maybe we won't have to film."

"Doubt it," Richard said, muttering. It was about that time that he thought his eyes were the new home of a disco dance hall, when the very very loud sound of thunder made him realize the bright flash was actually lightening. "...maybe," he said, reconsidering the filming issue.

"All we've got to do..." Jonas tried to reason it out, but it was hard with such a headache. "Is convince them that the weather is too big a risk for us to be exposed in. I mean these people remember the foot incident."

"My head hurts," Richard said miserably, wondering if maybe, if he wished really hard, he might just happen to find an unopened bottle of drinking water. You never knew in strange cars. Maybe there would be one under the seat if he reached his hand...

"Mine too." Jonas moaned, bringing his hand to his head. "And my stomach and my legs are all cramped up." he added, with a pout.

Richard touched something that seemed like it might be a bottle. He grabbed it, and then tried to pull himself off of Jonas onto the back seat of the car. He managed to get onto the seat, though he wasn't quite sure if he had sort of melted upwards or if he had actually climbed. "...better?" He asked, cautiously opening one eye.

"mmnn." Jonas stretched his legs for a few moments, then he nodded, "Slightly anyway. How the hell'd we manage this?" he asked, trying to see more than just a blurry mess in front of him. "I didn't think we'd brought that much to drink out here."

"Vodka," Richard said, as if this was the answer to life. At least, the answer to all their problems. He squinted at what looked very much like a bottle of Hungarian drinking water that was not opened. Maybe he was still dreaming.

"Did we finish the entire bottle then?" Jonas would have to be impressed when he didn't ache quite so much and didn't have so much to worry about getting out of. "So what happens now?" he wondered.

"We pray for bad weather," Richard decided. Yes. It was water. Very cautiously, he opened the bottle. "Weather so bad they won't film. Then we sleep some more." More lightening. It was a good thing, Richard thought, that automobiles formed faraday cages or they could be in serious trouble if that lightening touched ground somewhere nearby...

"Please God or Whoever." Jonas began, looking skyward as he said this. "Please make it so that we don't have to film today and can just sleep it off. And I promise you that I will never ever ever touch vodka again. Amen." With that, he tucked his head down again and curled up tightly.

Richard took a sip of the water, which was warm but otherwise drinkable. So he drank. A lot. "Jonas," he said, after a moment, thinking the thunder and the lightening seemed to be getting louder and closer, "want water?"

"Oh." Jonas snaked a hand up onto the seat at THAT offer. "Yeah...thanks."

Richard passed the bottle down. He tried to count between when he heard claps of thunder but he was too slow. "I think we're in the middle of a very big storm," he said, as the sky flashed very white outside the car.

"Holy shit!" Jonas scooted up to get a better look out at the storm. "It really worked!" he exclaimed, though exclamations made his head hurt worse. "There IS a good reason to pray for things."

"Dear God," Richard said, his voice very much sarcastic, "please help me get over my hangover..." it was, perhaps, unfortunate, that it was about this time lightening actually struck ground. It struck ground directly on the roof of the car they were in.

"What the fuck is..." Jonas managed, feeling very fuzzy before everything got dark.

It went from unbearably warm and somewhat sticky to suddenly very cold and clammy. Richard fell about six inches from where he had rolled up onto a seat that was no longer there, and made a very painful noise as he hit the ground, which was cold, very hard, and slightly damp.

"OWFUCKINGHELL!" Was the first thing out of his companion's mouth as he smashed onto the ground. "What the fuck just happend? "Jonas continued, trying to see if anything was broken. "Why'd it get so cold?" he paused a moment, trying, maybe, to get his senses back as he recalled the lightning. "Richard..." he said, his tones quite different. "You don't suppose that we're in Hell?"

"I think," Richard said after a moment, "that if we were in hell, we'd be alone." He wasn't sure why he thought this. It was a guess. "But, you know, if we are in hell, we won't have to act. You may have just proven the existance of God..."

"Maybe Hell's not quite so bad then." Jonas said, as his head continued to pound. Sure he was shivering on the ground and probably going to be here for eternity but..."It could be worse if you weren't here. Maybe it's only purgatory." Jonas said, thoughtfully.

"Then we've just validated the theology of the Pope." Richard decided. In the dark, he moved across the floor so that he was nearer Jonas. This was too much for him. Adrenaline was making his head pound, his eyes were wide open, and his hangover, as terrible as it had been, was forgotten now for the stomach-wrenching feeling of quiet terror. "I wonder if it's too late to have my last confession."

"Do you have many horrible dark sins in your past?" Jonas asked, in spite of the fact he felt like absolute shit. He tried to sit up and smirk over at Richard but he couldn't mange it. Things were spinning too quickly and it was just way too cold. Cold cold cold...his teeth began to chatter as he spoke.

"We can't be dead," Richard said suddenly, "you're going into shock." He fumbled in the dark to find Jonas, not really sure what he was thinking he'd do. He wasn't really thinking, anymore. His head felt like it was on fire, and all he could think of was how he wanted to fix things. After all, his vodka was their last sin... unless Jonas had done something bad while Richard wasn't looking.

"At least the hoodies here." Jonas managed, shaking. "And the vodka...so its not like we'll die. I'm just sort of really freezing." he explained, trying to crawl a little towards Richard's voice. "Ew..." he said a few seconds later. "That was all wet."

Richard found Jonas in the dark by following his voice, and picked him up, hugging the younger man against him as if Jonas was a child. He tried to remember what you do when people are going into shock. Was keep them warm one of the steps? "...we're going to be fine," he said, surprised to find his voice was steady. "I'll get you warm, then we'll have a look around." His hands were shaking, though -- not from the cold, but from the effort of keeping everything in. He found himself wishing if they were in Hell there was a devil, or something, so he could shout at it. He had the suspicion if Jonas hadn't been there, he'd have been curled on the floor somewhere, shivering.

Jonas was starting to think that the net maybe would have been slightly better. "this is sucky." he commented, tones bordering on whiny, which would probably get on Richard's nerves really soon now but he couldn't help it. He was wet and freezing and stuck in who knew where exactly. "I bet Keith did it. Somehow."

"Keith did not cause us to be struck by lightening," Richard said patiently, fumbling in the dark trying to find Jonas' hands. "...you are wet," he said after a moment. "Maybe you should take some of that off."

"Cold." Jonas protested, tugging his hoodie more tightly around himslef. Even if that was very damp, he still didn't think. "Not going to lie here on this dirty floor without some protection." he added, "It's already sort of itchy."

"Jonas," Richard's voice was starting to edge towards pleading, "sit up and not so much of you will be against the floor." Please pretty please stop sulking.

"Can't." Jonas protested. " It goes all spinny if I do."

"Jonas," Richard said, in a short, surprisingly forceful tone, "do you want to die?"

"What?!" Jonas asked, shocked at the tone as much as anything else. People didn't talk to him that way. Richard didn't talk to him that way. It was all just so unthinkable to be somewhere he didn't know and to be getting yelled at. "No." he managed, sulkilly, letting out a little sniffle as he answered.

"The phrase is 'lay down and die'." Richard said shortly, reaching for Jonas to pull him upright. "So sit up."

"I don't like sitting." Jonas gripped as he was pulled up. "I'm just going to fall down and hit my head on something and then die here anyway so what does it really matter, eh?" he asked, a challenge becoming evident in his voice. Apparently he was really really bad at this sort of thing. It was almost like his personality was shifting he thought idly, from some weird place outside himself that he just chose to ignore in all the chaos.

"I've got a hold of you," Richard said, with surprising patience, but a firmness in his voice as if dealing with a sulky child, "you won't fall down. You trust me, don't you?"

"Is this Aladdin?" Jonas asked, as he leaned more of his weight against Richard than was strictly necessary.

"If this is Aladdin I think you're Abu," Richard retorted, but he wasn't as harsh as he might have been under other circumstances.

"No Sam to be the monkey boy this time." Jonas agreed, his tones changing a tiny bit now that he wasn't complaining about himself or how he felt. He slumped further against Richard just to be a pest though anyway. It was only fair because Richard had made him sit up, he told himself.

Richard secured Jonas from falling with one arm, and with the other, he very gently put his hand against his costar's hair, brushing it with his fingers gently. "And I'm clearly the walking carpet," Richard added. He wasn't complaining either.

"The walking carpet wasn't bossy." Jonas muttered, though he did feel himself warming up a little...then a great deal as Richard started playing with his hair.

"Yes he was," Richard said gently, smiling. "He told the monkey what to do and he didn't even have any speaking lines..." Richard had read somewhere, at some point, that if people were losing body heat, you rubbed their arms and legs to keep them from losing limbs. Or maybe he hadn't read it. It was hard to keep things straight in his head, thoughts were buzzing around like insects somewhere back beyond the strange calm he felt. But it seemed natural to move from stroking Jonas' hair to rubbing his wet shoulder. So Richard did.

"Did he really?" Jonas tried to remember now. "Maybe watching that for drinking games wasn't the best idea." he admitted with a little almost laugh. "If I can't even remember the story." Not that he hadn't seen it long before that but..."They sort of fogged up everything I thought I knew about it." he confessed. "I'm half liable to look for...I don't know...the parrot and the carpet shagging on the elephant's back."

"The elephant is the monkey," Richard said, as if this was very obvious and something everybody, especially drunk people, knew.

"OH..." Jonas remembered as it slowly dawned on him. "Must have wanted to get phaelically symbolic with someone." he mumbled. "Otherwise why get his...limb thing?"

"Trunk. Elephants have trunks." Richard said, realizing with sudden clarity this was what being insane was like. One long unending conversation with drunk, confused, wet Jonas.

"Trunks." Jonas agreed, pleasantly enough, bizarre moodswing taking another turn as he smiled sweetly at Richard. "thank you."

"You're welcome," Richard said, rubbing circles with his hand into Jonas' opposite shoulder. "The monkey is turned into an elephant by the genie in an attempt to make the thief more impressive to win the princess." Why was he summarizing a child's cartoon?

"But Robin Hood's still cooler." Jonas declared, almost purring now. "Well like not all of them. Errol Flynn is sorta weird and dated. But WE'RE cool." he crowed triumphantly, not entirely sure what he was doing. "We sound crazy." he said after another moment. "Like not totally coherent at all." He wondered why this was.

You noticed, Richard wanted to say, it's all your fault we sound totally horrifyingly insane. "We're in shock, our car was struck by lightening and then we disappeared into a dark cold wet place," Richard told him, in a soothing voice. "We should get up and look around if we can."

"Don't wanna." Jonas mumbled, but he tried to stand up anyway. "Hurts..." he said, a little sulky once again as his muscles shook madly like jello or something.

Richard got to his feet about the same time, and though his muscles were all trembling too, it was a sudden and new rush of adrenaline as what had been very familiar no longer was. "I'm sorry," Richard said, grasping Jonas' arm to make sure the other man wouldn't fall. "I'll support you."

"Okay..." Jonas agreed, glad Richard was there to keep him from landing on his arse the second he tried to take a step.

Richard pulled his arm around Jonas' waist, moving so the other man could lean on him. He felt very strange, and completely disconnected to his body, which was doing odd things like trembling without shaking and going from very hot to very cold very quickly. Yet his voice came out calm again. "In theory, we're in a room, so we want to find the walls of this room. We start a direction and walk till we hit something. All right? We can go slow."

Jonas nodded just a little. "All right." he agreed, sort of amazed how floaty the room felt to him. "So we just go...That way..." he pointed one out, or tried to.

The only real direction to go was ahead, so Richard carefully put one foot in front of the other. "Here we go," he said.

"And we're off." Jonas agreed, following Richard's step exactly. Well not exactly exactly because he didn't want to trip into him but relatively exactly anyway.

Step. Step. Step. Richard was not really sure what happened when they found the wall. "...I wonder why it's so dark," he pondered, making a loud squishy noise as he stepped in some kind of dubious puddle.

"Eww was that sort of...squishy?" Jonas asked, wincing. "I am NOT walking over there." he said with a sniff. "And it is dark because everything else is wrong today."

"Everything?" Richard asked, leading Jonas away from the puddle of squish. It had the consistancy of manure, he decided, glad that he was wearing boots. "But I'm here." Imagine where you'd be without me, Richard wanted to say. You'd be stepping through dubious substances that squish.

Jonas simply sniffed hard in response. He didn't have much else to say in the mood he was in.

Richard had no idea where this patience was coming from, he really didn't. Normally things weren't like this, were they? He thought he was the one who panicked. And yet... tightening his grip on Jonas, he put one hand out in front of him and touched a wall. "Here we are," he said, feeling the cold, but not wet stones beneath his hand. "We've found something."

"Have we?" Jonas perked up again and tried to break free to go look himself only he couldn't. "Well what is it?" he demanded, like a ten year old at Christmas.

"...it's a wall," Richard said. "Stretch your hand out." So maybe it wasn't a Christmas present... "there could be a door," he said, letting go of Jonas and turning slightly, as if to evaluate the room again now that he had a landmark. So if they took about six or seven steps...

"DOOR DOOR DOOR!" Jonas would have bounced but remembered it wasn't a good idea in here. "If there's a door we get to leave!" he said excitedly. "And if we get to leave we get to get out of here and go back to our normal lives!"

"...maybe," Richard said, cautiously. Disappointing Jonas would be Very, Very Bad. "I think I know which way it is," he said, moving off in the darkness without so much as a by-your-leave. He was moving towards the slightly-less-dark smudgy spot near the ground that could possibly be a crack under a door.

"Where are you taking me?" Jonas asked as he was suddenly pulled. "You could have warned me you know...do you see a door yet, do you do you?" he asked. Somewhere inside a part of him was thinking he was totally insane still, but he didnt' really care.

Richard was busy counting steps across the room. Nine... ten... he put his hand out, and his fingers ran abruptly into the spot above the smudgy less-dark darkness. He stopped, and tried to feel his way for a handle of some kind.

Jonas waited in anticipation at Richard's side. He triedn ot to ask questions though it was really HARD considering.

After a moment, Richard spoke. He'd only waited to be not-quite-obnoxious. "Wooden door." He said. "I can't find a handle in the dark. There must be a light source on the other side."

"So this is really like a REAL cell." Jonas found himself back to the worst mood in the world once again. "That isn't FAIR." he said, sticking his lower lip out though he knew Richard wouldn't see that. "I want liight. " he moaned.

"Now hold on a minute," Richard said in a hurry, "hold on, Jonas, let me try something." He let go of his friend, placing both hand on the wall. He felt a sick nervousness in his stomach, an odd lurching feeling. This is stupid, he found himself thinking, you can't do this, you're too tense. Could he go through a door? He wasn't sure, at the moment -- Jonas' words about a cell unsettled him.

"We're going to get left in here." Jonas went on anyway. "Until one of us dies!" he wailed. "Because they're going to make sure they do. Unless they feed us to lions or something like in that one book mortals read a lot."

"Shut up!" Richard said, his voice with a sharper edge to it. "I'm working on it!" Damn, it was so hard to tell in the dark if he was getting harder to see. He didn't want to try, he never tried, he didn't want to slide through the door onto the other side. What if there was no other side? What if the door was a foot thick? What if...

"And Im stuck here with you while you're being mean to me." Jonas pressed on. "We're going to die here like this while you HATE me." he accused, eyes welling up with very real tears. "And I don't feel good." he added in a smaller voice. "I dont know what the hell's wrong with me."

Richard could hear the tone in Jonas' voice, and it put him on the edge. He shoved with his hands against the door, as if he could push through it. But instead of the familiar, yet horrible, sensation of the world being made of water, to be pushed through as if in a swimmingpool, he felt as if his hands had caught on fire. Suddenly, everything hurt, with an intensity that made him simultaneously want to scream and vomit. Shouting something beyond words, he tripped away from the door, landing hard on the ground, as the doorway began to glow faintly. Well, at least Jonas had light now.

Jonas continued sniffling heavily even as the light started to pour in. "And now you're hurt." he wailed. "And its all my fault and you're really going to hate me and we'll be in trouble when we get back because I huurtt you." he wailed, kneeling next to Richard. "WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO US. ITS SO UNFAIR." He sniffled as he studied his friend. "I'm sorry." he added plaintively. "I Didn't mean to...I am so so sorry."

Richard was too busy swallowing the urge both to cry and throw up large amounts of bile, trying not to let his hands touch anything. "...iron," he said in a weak voice, his head pounding even worse than it had in the car. "...there's iron in the door." He'd been so stupid not to think of it, he thought, as he tried not to look at his hands, blistering over as they were. Probably on the hinges. Maybe even on the doorhandle he couldn't find. Maybe, he thought dimly, the sores wouldn't bleed this time. "...it's all right," he managed to choke out after a moment more, "I don't hate you."

"Can't that KILL you?" Jonas asked, his eyes going wide in the light. "MY GOD IVE KILLED RICHARD ARMITAGE!" he gasped loudly for anyone who could possibly hear him. "SOMEONE HELP THERE MIGHT BE TIME!"

"I'll be all right!" Richard shouted, grabbing at Jonas to try and calm him down. "It's just an allergic reaction! I didn't get inside the door, it's only on my hands!" His hands, which felt rather like there were blisters from his wrists to his fingernails, breaking out on every surface. And were now clutching at Jonas' wet hoodie in a desperate attempt at pain relief.

"Your hands!" Jonas despaired, now tugging off the hoodie as best as he could and winding it around his friend's hands in the style of a lady's muff or something. It was, he thought, the least that he could do now.

"...calm down!" Richard pleaded, though he did pull the wet fabric over his palms, the cold biting into his swelling hands with a relief that made him almost sick. "It's happened before, I'll be fine. I'll be fine." Well, if two weeks of barely being able to hold things was fine.

"I and you and..." Jonas shook a little with the force of his emotions rushing so freely over him. "why?" he asked simply instead, sounding for all the world like a lost child who was kidnapped by a lost family of roving bears who intended to sell him to the goblin family next door as lunch. "Why do bad things happen?"

"Oh Jonas," Richard said, his voice catching a little at the younger man's tone, at the simplicity of the question -- at the look he could now see on Jonas' face, since the door was still glowing gently, and seemed to show no signs of letting up. Gingerly he separated his hands enough to open his arms, extending his arm toward the clearly very panicked young man. "...come here." So what if they were stuck in a dungeon with a door that was only glowing like that because it clearly had been spelled to set off some kind of alarm if someone tried to use magic to get through.So what if Richard was losing the ability to bend his fingers. So what if... the point was, Jonas clearly needed someone to hug him and tell him things would be okay, and that fell to Richard, there being no one else around to do so.

"But I'll hurt you again." Jonas whimpered, even as he threw himself in Richard's arms and laid his head against the other actor's shoulder. Then, the force of all of this caught up to him in a way it hadn't even done before and he was shaking hysterically as he throughly soaked Richard's shirt, not even able to get words out. The worst of all was that he didn't understand exactly why this sort of thing was happening. "'snotnormal...." he managed in one hysterical little gulp.

Normally, Richard would have done his best to soothe Jonas by stroking his hair, a technique that worked in generally every circumstance. But Richard didn't dare; his hands were still burning and swelling. He closed his arms around Jonas tightly instead, rocking gently on the stone floor, muttering soothing nonsense sounds as Jonas cried. He couldn't blame Jonas, he really couldn't, Jonas wasn't himself, this horrible place had a terrible feeling to it that Richard had been fighting off since they got here, and poor Jonas, well... "It's going to be okay," Richard whispered, "it's really going to be okay, Jonas. See the way that door's lit up like a Christmas tree? I think I set off an alarm when I tried to go through. People will be here soon, and we'll explain it was all a mistake and then we'll go home."

Jonas tried to believe this, he really did. It was hard to in a way but...But it WAS Richard said part of his brain that still hoped reason would prevail here. "Do you really think so?" he asked, relaxing just a little. "Because that would be really good."

"We'll be out of here in no time," Richard promised, with a sinking feeling it wasn't true, and whoever opened the door would not be particularly keen to send them back to Hungary.

"I trust you." Jonas said simply, cuddling closer to Richard. Now that he was a little more relaxed, he wasn't gasping out every word in between fits of shaking and that helped. Slowly he was starting to breathe agian. "It's good you're here with me." he added, "I love you did you know?" he continued on, "I mean like you're my best mate and everything so..." this was, he thought, almost like the time on set when he'd broken his foot and Richard stayed there until help had arrived. Though come to think of it, that time had involved a lot more profanity.

"I know," Richard said gently, "you're my best mate too." Slowly, because he was more exhausted than he could remember having been in a long time, Richard gently lowered his head, until his face rested against the top of Jonas' head. "I'll take care of you," he said at last, feeling it was a promise he could keep. "You're safe with me."

"Safe..." Jonas agreed, finding that it all felt better now with Richard right near him. "Okay..." he agreed simply. "That'll be a good thing. ....How very wrong he was.
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