Fighting Wyrd

His head was screaming. He never had a headache this bad before, it felt like someone was taking a sharp jack-hammer and pounding it into his head. A strong grip on Lock's right shoulder sent fire shooting down his arm. He opened his eyes, unaware that he had closed them, and found himself in a white-tiled bathroom instead of the wood-paneled ballroom. His brow furrowed and it was then that he saw the hand that had his arm in a rough grip. He tried to pull away, but the grip was too tight.

"Hey, look! The drunken prince is finally coherent!" The man who had his arm, a slightly bigger man, with a scruff of a beard chuckled and shook Lock a little. The other, a younger man, but still much older than Lock, was thinner, but just as scraggly, started snickering as well.

"So he is. Time to get this party started then." The younger man reached out and before Lock could pull away tugged his shirt out of his pants.

"What are you do-?!" Lock tried to shout, but the larger man clamped a hand over his mouth. Wouldn't have mattered anyway, his head started throbbing worse than before, so all he would have been able to get out might have been a gurgled shout. A hand was on his belt. He tried to remember how to kick, but every movement seemed to shoot fire into his arm and across his back. Speaking of his back, it suddenly felt extremely hot. And then it felt like his skin, well he wasn't sure exactly, but it felt like the skin across his back rippled. He could feel tugging all around him and inside of him, but the only thing he was paying attention too was that funny feeling. Something was trying to get out. Even with the hands pawing all over him, that was the thought that brought a shiver of discomfort and goose bumps across his skin.

"Wow, you would think him a vampire or something, check out this pearly white skin."

"Heh, soft as a baby too. I can't wait to--Oi! we're busy in here, piss off!"

A startled shout made it through the din of ringing in his ears along with the fact that he was no longer being held. Lock slid slowly to the floor wrapping his arms around his head, trying to squeeze some of the pressure and shock out of it. A few moments pass before he realized someone was talking to him. A deep, soothing voice. Cool hands gently took his arms from around his face and then lifted his chin a little. His eyes were unfocused so it was hard to tell, but the bright orange hair brought an instant name to mind.

"Stella?" He whispered uncertainly and was met with a warm chuckle.

"Not quite, I'm her cousin, I guess these are yours?" And with that the redhead placed Lock's glasses back on his nose. As Derik replaced the glasses he was grateful for the separation between himself and the adorably confused face.

"Cousin?" Lock said warily, momentarily forgetting his funny feelings and pain as he looked over the handsome man.

"The one and only Derik Corbin! The only one of her cousins who can use the puppy stare on her!" He smiled warmly and in that dazzling smile Lock could see the resemblance. The smile faded a little, "Y'know, you should be more careful in how much you drink. Guys like that are always looking for an opening."

Lock was taken aback, "How much I drink? But I didn't have any--oh, god!" Lock clutched his head as another spasm of pain shot through his body. He could feel them. Other people. Their emotions rushed through him like a torrent switching from concerned to happy to depressed to horny to suicidal. It was too much, they were ripping him apart.

"Hey, guy! You okay?!" Derik wasn't sure what to do. The black haired man was basically doubled over and moaning from pain.

"Out," he mumbled.

"What was that?"

"OUTSIDE! Take me outside! Please!"

With that last plea Derik leapt into action, grabbing one of the younger man's arms and slinging it over his
shoulder and then bodily dragging the smaller man to his feet. Each move they made seemed to spiral Lock closer into a whirl of pain, more emotions clung to him, desperate to be heard and yet being ripped away by the bigger fish. Somehow, with Derik half-carrying him, they made it to a small secluded garden area off to the side of the hotel. Lock was shaking by now and Derik was a little shaken emotionally as well. He found a small concrete bench and set the dark haired man down as gently as he could.

Thankfully, every breath of fresh air seemed to settle whatever had gripped Lock and slowly he began to pull himself back together. As he did so the throbbing in his shoulder and across his back died down some as well. He glanced up at his savior, the light from inside sprinkled gold highlights across his orange hair and the lights from the garden added a red, making his hair seem like an actual flame every time he shifted. While he could stare at the flame-like hair for hours his eyes found the blue-gray ones and they held each other for long moments.

Derik could almost see the black-haired youth collecting himself and he was going to try to lighten the mood a bit with a joke or something, but when those deep eyes glanced up toward his own he found himself drawn into the depths. Like trying to look into a deep pool. Then he remembered his cousin's description of her little hermit author and a name clicked into place, "Lock," he breathed.

"That's correct, Mr. Corbin."

His formality made Derik smile, except for that little episode back there, he was almost exactly as Stella described him. Boyishly handsome, cute even, with the richest and darkest hair, and big, dark, soulful eyes. His pale skin almost glowed in the moonlight. His shirt was still open from the 'close call' and a light pink nipple was barely visible. He caught himself checking the author out and blushed, "Derik is fine," he said hastily as he glanced away, mentally reprimanding himself. When he glanced back down he could see a light blush across Lock's cheeks and he had to look away again before he started gawking.

"Alright..." There was an awkward silence for a short time before Derik coughed which caused Lock to look up.

"Uh, you should probably, uh, button up, and well, you, I just, um, you okay now?" All of his words came out in a tumble. Lock almost smiled, which surprised himself. He never smiles. His brother had managed to drag a few smiles out over the years, but that this stranger with his quiet bumbling concern makes Lock want to smile, well, it's a big deal. Instead of pondering this phenomenon he concerned himself with his buttons.

"There you are, Derik! I still haven't found-oh! Lock!" Stella came bursting out of the hotel's side door into the garden, it looked like she had been searching fervently, her face was flushed and her curly hair had started to frizz out a bit. She immediately ran over to Lock and grabbed the reserved man into a tight hug. "Thank God!" She sobbed out and hugged him tighter.

"Uh, coz? Why the hysterics?" Derik asked as he gently started prying the startled man from her death grip. She finally relented, apparently satisfied that he was real.

"Well, when I couldn't f-find him, I assumed he was in the bathroom or he found a cab to get home, only when I passed the hotel's TV monitor on my search it said that his building was o-on fire! I was so scared, what if he got caught in that blaze?!" She almost went to grab him again, but then a noise from inside caught the group's attention.

"YOU DID WHAT?!" There was a resounding smack heard before more yelling, "WHERE THE HELL IS MY BROTHER?!" More smacks followed by some whimpering.

"Michael?" Lock whispered out. Derik glanced down as Stella ran to the door. Kneeling down, Derik gently pushed some bangs back from the youthful looking face.

"You never answered, you okay?" Derik's low voice carried a current of concern, but Lock was having difficulty focusing on any one subject, especially with strong warm hands running through his hair in search for wounds. Stella's voice mingled with Michael's for a second before more smacks were heard from inside. Michael came running out the abused doors, stopped at seeing the two men, and then rushed over much in the same attitude of Stella and gathered the younger man into a bone-crushing hug, nearly knocking over Derik in the process.

"Oh, God! Lock, I'm so sorry! Those punks and your apartment and, and--I'm sorry." The hug had pulled Lock into a standing position and he awkwardly patted his older brother's back. Just as suddenly as he grabbed him, Michael let go and gripped Lock's shoulders, "Don't worry, Stella and I will take care of those sleaze bags and then we'll figure something out about your apartment, okay?" Lock nodded dumbly and Michael raced back inside. The night suddenly felt very quiet.

Lock turned toward Derik, thinking it only proper to thank him, only to find himself enveloped in the stronger man's arms. "I-what?!" His muffled exclamation was drowned out by Derik's warm chuckle.

"Sorry. I felt left out." Derik stepped back and ruffled Lock’s hair, earning an angry glare from the man.

"Well, I was going to thank you, but I don't feel like it anymore." Lock straightened out his shirt and tried to look at least a little more dignified. "And, yes, I am quite well now, minus the no home bit." Lock was surprised by how little he felt about his home. But as he thought about it, he had never felt any feelings of attachments toward anything that he called home. This apartment, like his family's house before, was simply the place he slept. Even all his possessions were easily replaced. He didn't have anything that he would miss.

Derik noticed the tone and was surprised that the man was weathering all these things so well. Not ten minutes ago, he was a shaking pile on the bathroom floor. He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "Well, you could come to my place." Lock looked up and even though Derik considered himself to be able to read people well, the blank look that Lock gave him might as well been a doll looking at him. He coughed before continuing, "Seriously, you'd be doing me a favor, y'see I got here late and so I'm kinda on Stella's bad side right now, but if I helped you out she'd be less inclined to hurt me." The twitch in Lock mouth could have been a split second smirk, but Derik couldn't swear to it.

"You're sure I wouldn't be intruding?" Lock found himself saying, surprising himself again this night.

"Tch! Intruding? If you were going to be intruding then I wouldn't have asked you...did that make sense to you? Hmmmm, so, what do you say?" Derik scratched his head in thought again.

"I'm not sure...I mean, we just met and, and..." Lock sentence dried up as Derik turned the most adorable puppy look toward him. The color of his eyes watered ever so slightly and Lock almost melted. "Well, I guess, you are Stella's cousin, and if it's just for awhile, it'd be okay." The words came out softly and a bright grin broke across the face that just seconds ago looked like it would cry.

"Great! C'mon, I'll show you my ride."