


Flynn's Travelling Boredom

by Xx.Triple A.xX



Category: Uncharted series
Genre: Friendship, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-21
Updated: 2012-05-21
Packaged: 2013-06-11 20:43:04
Rating: K+
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8139024/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/1313201/Xx-Triple-A-xX
Summary: Sort of a songfic for "The Once-ler's Travelling Madness." Flynn and Drake get lost while looking for a castle they'll never admit it and Flynn gets bored. What Nate doesn't know is that Flynn has a guitar. Here be crack. Ye be warned!





	Flynn's Travelling Boredom

**Opening Authoressial Note:** Only 10 pages of Uncharted fic? This is a travesty and must be remedied at once. I want to see at least 37. BY THE END OF THIS MONTH. Impossible, you say? Psh, nonsense. We play Uncharted. NOTHING'S IMPOSSIBLE. Except perhaps slamming a revolving door.

Showing here, one of what I hope will be many contributions to this effort! Though I haven't seen the movie _The Lorax_, I'm familiar with some of the music from it. During a romp through YouTube, I came across a deleted song from the film entitled "The Once-ler's Travelling Madness," which you should definitely look up if you haven't heard it and you really want to fully appreciate this oneshot. Somehow, that song latched onto my brain and found my Uncharted fandom and caused this to happen.

For the record books, I REGRET NOTHING.

**Disclaimer:** All I own is that guitar that Flynn somehow magically ended up with. Oh, what, you want a real explanation? Alright, fine. As a kid he ran away from home to join a band, and then he decided that he was too smart for that and besides he wanted more money and excitement, but mostly money. And then stuff happened and _Uncharted 2_.

What time is it? HEADCANON O'CLOCK, THAT'S WHAT TIME IT IS. Alright, I'm shutting up now, go read the story.

* * *

The forests in Germany were big. Really big. Big enough to get lost in if you blinked while you were turning counterclockwise in the wrong direction.

Not, of course, that this was what had happened to Nate and Flynn. They knew exactly where they were going. It was just taking them three days to get there. Three days that looked like it would be turning into four. Fortunately, they had plenty of food, due to their slightly unorthodox mode of travel; the road not being easily traversed by modern vehicles, they'd managed to find a horse and wagon to get them where they needed to go. The wagon contained food, as well as a light tent and a couple of sleeping bags; the two treasure hunters had expected the journey to the castle to take only a couple of days at the most.

They had been wrong.

As the horse ambled slowly down the path, Nate leaned back against the seat and dozed. The day was warm, even in the shade of the forest, and he felt relaxed and completely safe. It was a good feeling, and not a familiar one, especially in his line of work.

Then he jerked awake and almost fell off the wagon as the discordant CLANG of someone whacking at electric guitar strings attacked his eardrums.

As he recovered, the noise resolved itself into a pleasant, if clearly improvised, tune. Looking to his right in search of his companion, Nate was no end of surprised to see Flynn strumming away at an electric guitar, decorated with dubious taste by a large decal of the British flag.

"Flynn, what the heck?"

The Brit shrugged. "I'm bored, Nate. Three days and no sign of the castle? I thought I'd bring out Tori here and entertain myself." He strummed some more. "Na, na, nanana, na, ba da da da…"

Nate thought that maybe he was still asleep. "_Tori_?"

"Short for Victoria. God Save the Queen," Flynn trilled optimistically. "She's dead now, but she was one of the best. Now she lives on in musical harmony."

Before Nate could think of anything else to say, Flynn started singing again. "Oh, bo, budupadaboo, still can't find that dumb castle!"

"…I'm going back to sleep."

When Nate woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, it was to still more singing. "I've got a cramp in my back, and another cramp in my right rump cheek!" Flynn trilled, talking to – who? The horse? "You and I will have separate grandchildren, and we will say to them – hey, Nate! Look, I'm playing my guitar upside-down."

He was. Nate stared at the Brit, who was hanging half off the wagon bench. In response to his incredulous gaze, Flynn rolled his eyes and twanged a guitar string. "Don't look at me like that. 'S just something to _do_."

Nate grabbed him and hauled him back up to a seated position. "Do something less dangerous."

"Well, fine, be like that. I guess I won't play you the song I wrote you, then."

"You wrote me a song," Nate deadpanned. Flynn nodded enthusiastically and cleared his throat, bending over his guitar. Then he frowned.

"Oh wait, I forgot the words. Na, na… nnnnghh…" Clang, twang. "La da da da… d'you ever think _really hard_ about boredom?"

"I'm not usually bored," Nate muttered. "Then again, I'm not usually lost in a forest with an annoying lunatic and his guitar…"

"Annoying, eh?" Flynn messed around with the instrument, holding it upright in his lap like a cello and giving a few select strings a rapid back-and-forth strum. "Is that annoying?" He did it again. "Is that annoying?" Again. "Is this annoying?" He started to do it again, only to have Nate's hand shoot out and clamp around the neck of the instrument.

"YES, Flynn. _It's annoying_."

"Cool. Just wondering."

Half an hour later, Nate found himself wondering how hard it would be to bury Flynn's body by himself. The Brit was lying flat on his back in the wagon, staring up at the sky and continuing to improvise.

"Look, it's some circling birds! I bet you that they're going to _eat our corpses_!" His voice deepened. "And then the worms will come out of the ground, and then some other little critter's gonna come and make furniture out of our bones!" Strum, strum. "And sit on it… and have lovely dinners."

"It wouldn't be that hard," Nate reasoned with himself. "No one comes out here anyway. I wouldn't even have to bury it. There are wild animals in Germany. Hungry ones. They'd appreciate it. I'd be doing the ecosystem a favor."

Flynn gave up all attempts at showcasing his musical abilities, wailing unapologetically on the strings and with his voice. "_And this whole thing will be a disaster_! DA-NA-NA, NA! Da na na, da na na-na-NAAAA!"

The wagon abruptly came to a halt as Nate pulled the horse to a stop and then pounced on Flynn. "GIVE IT TO ME!"

"Give you wha – NO! This is _my_ guitar! _My_ baby! Go get your own!"

"THE GUITAR OR YOUR LIFE, FLYNN!"

"No! Get off, you bloody – OW! Have you gone mad? NO!" A twanging noise that might be associated with someone being struck by a guitar. "Victoria doesn't like you!"

"Good! Because I'm going to break her into a million pieces and scatter her remains to the wind!"

"Nathan Drake! I thought you were a _gentleman_! I don't understand why you're so stressed anyway. Look, we're here!"

"We're _where_?" the brunette snarled, pressing his foot into Flynn's abdomen as he tried to wrench the guitar from his grasp.

"The castle!"

Nate whipped around. Sure enough, at the end of the path stood the castle they'd been looking for, long abandoned and mostly overgrown. With a cry of relief the brunette sprang from the wagon, leaving Flynn to sit up and inspect the damage done to his instrument.

"Did he try to hurt you, poor baby? I know. He's weird. Americans, eh?"

"FLYNN! COME _ON_!"

"I'm _coming_." Flynn shouldered his pack and left the guitar in the wagon as he sauntered down the trail. "Da na, da-na-na-na _na_, boop shoodeeoop tra la _la la la_…"

* * *

**A3:** AGAIN, I REGRET NOTHING. That was fabulous and great and I had so much fun with it. I hope you did too! Please drop me a review to let you know what you think! I'll be off... possibly writing more crack. OR NOT.

**Flynn:** Oh my word, what have you done to my CHARACTER

**A3:** (Shoves him) Shush you know you love it

**Flynn:** (Clutches guitar) I NEVER


End file.
