Title: Bad Back Author: SunGreen70 Rating: PG-13? Mainly for use of the F-bomb. Characters: Ryan/Colin, Greg also appears. Summary: Ryan and Colin both throw out their backs. “Ryan!” No response. Colin Mochrie swore under his breath, and called louder. “Ryan!” “What?” came a cranky voice from the bedroom upstairs. “I need you to come down here.” “I can’t, Col.” Ryan sounded downright whiny that time. Colin gritted his teeth and addressed the stairs again. “Ryan, I’m not kidding. I need help.” From above his head came the faint sounds of squeaking bedsprings and the unmistakable thump of size 15 feet hitting the floor. Several minutes of shuffling, punctuated by groans, followed. A pause as the sounds reached the top of the stairs, then a mumbled expletive before the movements resumed, making their way down. Eventually, Ryan Stiles came into view on the staircase, edging gingerly down the steps. One hand clutched the banister while the other rested protectively on his lower back. He winced with each step, and as he neared the bottom, he looked into the living room with a petulant expression on his face. “What is so important that -” He broke off, concern replacing irritation as he spotted Colin doubled over on his knees. “Colin, what’s wrong?” The taller man picked up the pace down the last few stairs and the short distance into the living room, whimpering “Ow… Ow... Ow...” all the way. When he reached Colin’s side, he managed to bend down enough to put his hands on his shoulders. “What happened?” “My back,” Colin explained tersely. “Oh, no…” Ryan groaned. “You too?” “I dropped the pills,” Colin elaborated, nodding towards the prescription bottle that lay a few inches away from him. “I bent down to get them and…” “Oh, man,” Ryan murmured, glancing at the bottle of muscle relaxants that Colin had gone to fetch for him a short while ago. “I’m sorry, Col.” Colin shook his head. “It’s not your fault. It would’ve happened eventually.” Ryan looked abashed. “But you should have told me your back was bothering you too. You’ve been waiting on me all morning.” “Well, you couldn’t even get up. You were a lot worse off than me. Till now,” he added ironically. Ryan bit his lip, and massaged Colin’s shoulders gently. “What can I do for you?” “Nothing,” Colin sighed. “Unless you want to carry me up to bed?” “I can’t promise anything.” Colin awkwardly tried to shift position, wincing with the effort. Ryan’s hands squeezed his shoulders tighter in sympathy. “Maybe you can help me lie down,” Colin suggested. Ryan nodded, and carefully gripped his arms, trying to lift him up off his knees to ease him down to the floor. But as he tugged at Colin, something in his own back snapped, and he lost his balance. He fell over, knocking Colin over backwards on his way down to the floor. “FUUUUUCK!!!” It was impossible to tell which of them screamed the word as they landed on the carpet, Colin flat on his back with Ryan sprawled on top of him. Several seconds of painful groaning followed. “Ryan,” Colin grunted. “You have to get off me.” “I can’t move,” came the muffled reply, spoken into Colin’s chest. He sighed. “It’s that bad?” “Uh huh…” Ryan’s voice was thick with pain. Colin thought quickly, formulating a plan. “All right,” he decided. “I’m gonna roll you over onto your back, okay? I’ll be careful. You don’t have to do anything; just let me move you and it’ll be over in a second. On the count of three. One. Two. Three -” “FUUUUUCK!!!” “You okay?” “Huh?” Ryan sounded dazed. Though it was an effort, Colin lifted his head off the floor enough to peer into his face. Ryan had gone pale, with beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Worriedly, Colin rubbed his arm, more for the illusion of feeling useful than for any misapprehension that doing so would help. He noticed the bottle of muscle relaxants lying on the floor and reached for them, then gave up on that idea when he realized that the nearest source of water was all the way in the kitchen. After a few minutes, the color began returning to Ryan’s face and he turned his head to face Colin. He looked a little better. “Well… what now?” he asked. Just what Colin had been wondering. He eased back down so he was lying flat again, groaning a little with the movement. “Good question.” He blew out a frustrated breath. “We need help, obviously.” They both looked at the nearest phone, a cordless handset housed on an end table, a foot or two from where they lay. Colin summoned up his strength. “I think I can get it.” “No, wait…” Ryan put out a hand to stop him. “Let me try something.” Bracing himself with his hands on the floor, he lifted his foot and managed to stretch out far enough to hook it behind the phone. With a quick tug, he jerked it off the table so it came crashing to the floor, landing near Ryan’s knee. Taking a deep breath, he raised his shoulders up a bit to stretch his arm out for it. He blanched a little with the effort, but as he lay back down, he held up the phone in his hand with a triumphant grin. Colin closed his eyes briefly, silently vowing never to make another Bigfoot joke again, and patted Ryan’s arm in gratitude. “Good work.” “Okay… who am I calling?” Ryan asked. They considered the possibilities, debating as to who among their friends was the most capable in an emergency. Then, after a number of calls that went straight to voicemail or rang endlessly, Ryan sighed and hit one of the few remaining speed dial buttons he’d not yet tried. “Hello?” “Hey, Greg…” A moment later, ending the call, Ryan reported to Colin, “He’s on his way.” “He’s a good guy.” “Yeah.” “Let’s remember that later when we’re ready to kill him,” Colin sighed. Ryan rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement. A short while later, the back door rattled. “Greg?” Ryan called in the direction of the kitchen. “Yeah,” came the response. “Door’s locked,” he added. “Fuck.” Ryan and Colin spoke simultaneously. They exchanged a glance. Colin drew a deep breath. “I got it,” he decided. He started to raise himself on his elbows. Ryan cringed as Colin’s face went white, and he dropped himself back to the floor. “Maybe not,” he gasped. Ryan reached out and patted his shoulder as best as he could. “It’s okay. He can get the spare key,” he reminded Colin. “Now you tell me.” “Greg?” Ryan raised his voice to address their friend again. “You know where the hide a key is?” “Umm… no?” “Great,” Ryan muttered. “Okay,” he called. “Go back down the steps and to the left of the door. See the rocks?” Muffled footsteps clumped down the back steps. “Rocks?” “By the faucet for the garden hose. See the faucet?” “No… no faucet.” Colin sighed. “Your other left, Greg,” he yelled. “Oh. Sorry.” Footsteps hurried in the opposite direction. “I found the rocks!” came the gleeful shout. “Way to go, genius,” Colin muttered. Ryan continued his narration. “Okay. One of the rocks has an opening on the bottom. The key’s inside it.” “Which one?” Simultaneous sighs from the pair on the floor. “I don’t know, Greg. Pick them up and look at them.” A long pause. Then a barely audible “Eww.” Ryan rolled his eyes at Colin. “I guess it’s still muddy from the rain yesterday.” They waited for what seemed an eternity, listening to the thumping sounds of rocks being picked up and discarded. Ryan looked over at Colin again. “This is the part where we remember what a good friend he is, huh?” “Right,” Colin said grimly. “Got it!” Greg finally called. Fumbling sounds at the lock. “Turn it to the left. Your other left,” Colin added, before Greg could say anything. Finally, the back door opened, and Greg Proops entered, fastidiously wiping dirt from his fingers with a handkerchief. He stopped at the sight of Colin and Ryan sprawled out on the floor. As he stared down at them, a slow smile spread across his face, and he shook his head. “How do you boys get yourselves into these things?” he chuckled. “I’m glad you’re having fun,” Colin grumped. “Okay, okay,” Greg held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Don’t worry. I’m here and everything’s going to be all right now.” Ryan and Colin looked at each other. Neither of them was reassured. “Well. Let’s see. I guess we better get you both into bed,” Greg decided. Then, with a quick glance at the stairs leading to the bedroom, he changed his mind. “Or maybe on the couch. That’d be better.” He knelt behind Colin, slipping his hands under his shoulders. “Upsy-daisy! Oh, geez…When did you get so heavy, Col?” He struggled for a few moments, trying to push Colin into a sitting position as Colin bit back a scream of agony. Finally, Greg let go, gasping for breath. “Know what? I think we’ll leave you where you are,” he announced. He glanced at Ryan and shook his head, not even attempting it. “You too, Stick Boy. The floor’s better for your backs anyway.” “Uh huh,” Ryan sighed. “Whatever you say.” Greg did at least fetch pillows to slip under their heads, and water so they could finally swallow the muscle relaxants. He stood looking from one to the other, smirking. “Anyone for a game of Twister?” he suggested brightly. His response was two equally disgusted glares. Greg smiled innocently, and sat down on the couch. He leaned forward so he could see both invalids’ faces and shook his head in amusement. “How’d you both throw your backs out at the same time, anyway?” he asked. Ryan and Colin exchanged guilty glances. Despite the pain, they both started giggling. Understanding dawned on Greg, and he held up his hand to silence them. “Never mind. No further information needed or wanted.” End