triskehale | (no subject)

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Derek is on a run through the woods, following a trail that he wore into the earth himself. He could follow it with his eyes closed, which is why he's so surprised to suddenly find it blocked by a strange, squat little cabin that he couldn't see or smell until he was suddenly right in front of it. He has to skid to a halt to avoid crashing into the side of it, and he cautiously walks around to the front of the small structure. It looks a little like something out of a fairytale, like a place that shouldn't exist outside the pages of a children's book.

This is Darrow, so it isn't like a building suddenly showing up is anything particularly out of the ordinary, but Derek is annoyed to find it so close to what the wolf considers his territory, blocking the path that he made himself. He definitely isn't about to inspect it closer, no matter how piqued his curiosity may be, but as soon as he turns away from it he hears a voice calling for help from within. It sounds like a child and while it's suspicious, Derek finds that he can't ignore it.

It doesn't occur to him to let anyone know where he is as he climbs up onto the porch. The place smells like cookies and peppermint and he breathes in deeply as he steps over the threshold. Inside there's no child in need, nothing at all except for a sensation like cool water running down his body and washing away all of his memories, clearing his mind of everything he knows, everyone he loves.

A growl comes up from his throat as he feels his face shift into his beta form, eyes a blazing red as his memories are replaced with something new. He tries, but he can't shift back. He's stuck like this, the cruel result of an enchantress' curse. His feet take him back through the woods to the cursed summer chateau where he's meant to spend the rest of his days with dwindling hope that it will ever be broken.

The chateau is surrounded by an eternal winter and as soon as Derek steps into the snow, vines close the opening behind him and he knows that he won't be able to leave again. He isn't sure how he even got out in the first place, but now he's home.

"There you are, sir!" Derek looks over at the tall, narrow bookcase that serves as the head of household as it toddles over to him, rocking back and forth on worn corners as the small books that serve as its eyes widen in surprise. "What is it that you're wearing? Those are not clothes befitting a prince. My word, where did you even find them? Up to the bedroom with you. Change for dinner, young man."

Derek rolls his eyes with a growl, claws clicking over the ornate doorknob as he lets himself inside. The house is large and quiet, and Derek stares up at the ornate staircase as he heaves a weary sigh. He's been here for years, cursed to be stuck in this form, and time is running out for someone to come and break the spell.

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"I'll bet," says Barry with raised brows. He wonders how long Derek has been stuck out here, and is thankful that he's at least had company, albeit in the form of talking housewares. He stares after the retreating bookcase.

"What did he - er, it? - mean, the spell can be broken?" he asks Derek. "If you need help with something, I'm sure I can do it." Barry smiles a little. "It's sort of my thing."

"You don't need to concern yourself with that," Derek says kindly, giving Barry a wry smile as he moves to sit on the padded bench on the bay window overlooking the grounds. Barry could help, but he thinks "all you would have to do is fall in love with me" would come off as a little desperate. Not to mention being a very tall order.

"Please, eat." Derek gestures again at the tray of food, pleased at the spread. There are sandwiches and plates of fruit along with a plate of something that appears to be a kale and quinoa salad that must have been the blender's doing.

"You help people, then? Is that what the strange clothing is for?" Derek asks, letting his red eyes drag slowly along Barry's narrow frame. He's not sure that he's ever seen anything quite like the form-fitting crimson suit, but it does suit him. "I'm sure I could find you something more comfortable, if you'd like."

Barry needs no more invitation and drags the tray to the edge of the bed so he can work his way through it. Between the running and healing his concussion, he's extra ravenous, but he still saves the kale and the quinoa for last, powering through it with extra quick snaps of his teeth.

It doesn't take long, and Barry soon breaks out of his food coma to say, "It's not strange, it's friction resistant. Otherwise, I run so fast my clothes burn off." He grins, for that's always been a hilarious image to him, though one he never wants to live through. "But yeah, at home everyone knew me, or the Flash, at least." Barry's chest puffs out the smallest bit. "The Speedster of Central City."

Derek opens his mouth to continue speaking, but realizes how pointless it would be as soon as Barry starts eating with a speed and intensity that stuns even Derek into silence. It's good to see him satisfied, however, and he's smiling when Barry finally looks back at him.

"A speedster," Derek replies curiously, quirking a brow. It's not hard to imagine given how quickly he devoured all that food. Derek stands and squares his shoulders, daring to brush by Barry as he moves to stack up the plates and move the tray away. It's heady, being so close to another person after so long, and he would be lying if he said he didn't find the smell of Barry wholly enticing.

"Did you want to take me up on my offer of spare clothes, or do you plan on running from here so fast that they would burn?" Derek says it like it's a joke, but his smile is a little tight. What reason would he have to stay? "Though I suppose I've taken up a lot of your time already. It sounds like there probably plenty of people missing you."

Derek swallows hard at that, because he'll never again know what that feels like. There's no one left to miss him.

Barry can't help staring as Derek edges past him. He's a werewolf, sort of like Barry always imagined and sort of not. He'd thought there'd be more fur, for one thing, and that a werewolf would more fully transform into a wolf. Instead the transformation is mostly claws and fangs and a permanently angry looking forehead, but it's not frightening. At least, not like this.

"I haven't actually made that many friends in town," says Barry with regret, "But the city does need me. But don't worry." Barry reaches out a tentative hand to rest on Derek's shoulder. "I can run back in time. I'm pretty sure I can speed canon you a way out of some silly woods."

Barry's heart beats so fast, but it's not out of fear. It's an entrancing sound, and Derek can't help but to hone in on it once he discovers how soothing the thrum seems to be.

He isn't expecting the touch to his shoulder, and he tenses slightly before his knees nearly buckle and he lets out a shaky breath, head hanging for a moment. He hasn't been touched my anyone since his family died, and the effect is staggering. He looks down at Barry's hand with a wounded, longing expression before swallowing dryly.

"You're welcome to try. Maybe your powers exceed hers," Derek says after a moment, low and rough. It doesn't occur to Derek that Barry might be unable to leave; the curse is only on himself, after all. He lets himself imagine leaving, eyes brightening for a moment before his expression goes pained. "Even if I could leave, there's no place for me out there."

He wants to ask if Barry might come visit him sometime, but he can't seem to make his mouth form the words. Instead, he reaches up to curl his fingers carefully around Barry's wrist. He can feel the thrum of his pulse faintly through the suit, and swipes his thumb carefully over the back of his hand before pulling it away.

Barry watches Derek's reaction with some surprise, but then he realizes it must be ages since someone touched him. He squeezes once before letting go, vowing then and there that he's not leaving these woods until he finds a way to take Derek with him.

"You'd be surprised," he says gently. "There's a dude who's half bull in town - this is nothing." Barry smiles. "So I'm going to go outside now and work on getting you free."

"Half bull?" Derek asks, obviously surprised. He covers it up quickly enough, huffing slightly. "Wolves are still more elegant."

Barry's smile leaves Derek vaguely breathless, but it's not only that. It's the conviction in his voice when he says that he's going to free Derek. He has no idea why Barry would go to the trouble, but then again, that's apparently what he does. He helps people, even people like Derek.

"Okay," Derek says slowly, sounding a little unsure. There's a heavy coat in the closet that Derek rarely uses, and he retrieves it to drape it over Barry's shoulders. He had seemed so cold outside, lips faintly blue by the time Derek got to him. It's better that he stay warm.

They head outside with Derek very aware of all the appliances and housewares watching them closely. "Have fun," the teapot calls out in her high, whistling voice. "We'll have something warm waiting when you're done."

Snow is falling softly, catching in Derek's dark hair, melting on his eyelashes and the fur sprouting from his jaw. He huffs in a snowflake and then sneezes softly, wriggling his nose as he watches Barry move through the snow. "Watch out for trees."

"Hey," says Barry half-heartedly, for there's no getting around his ignominious arrival after braining himself on a branch. He stands clutching at his arms, reluctant to take off the coat when it's so warm, but he makes himself shrug out of it.

"It'll just catch fire," he explains, and pulls up his cowl. "If I get out, don't worry, I'll come back," he says, giving Derek a quick little wave before he digs his toes in for traction.

With a crackle of energy, Barry sets off, taking care to dodge the trees at first, and then concentrating on building more speed. After a few passes at nearly mach II, he accepts that the recurring sight of Derek's cabin isn't in his imagination, and arrives back at Derek's side after only seconds have passed.

"Okay," he says. "Maybe it will be kind of hard. But don't worry, there's more I can try."

"Right," Derek says as he takes the coat back. Barry's scent clings to it already and Derek holds it stiffly over one arm, like a server with a tea towel. He merely nods when Barry says he'll be back, not quite believing him but wanting fiercely to.

When Barry moves, it's quick enough that Derek's eyes cross as he tries to focus on the red blur. By the time that he decides to stop trying to watch, Barry is back at his side. Perhaps the spell isn't focused only on Derek.

"You couldn't leave?" Derek asks, looking troubled by the notion. For as much as he enjoys Barry's company, he doesn't want him kept here against his will. "I'm-- I thought it was only me."

He watches Barry with concern and tilts his head, holding out the coat like a token of apology. "What other things?"

"It's like the land just loops - one moment I'm running towards the city, and the next I'm back at your cabin," says Barry with a shake of his head. He waves off the coat and stands with his hands on his hips, considering.

"Other things," he says, "Like a lightning bolt." Boots grinding in the snow as he searches for traction, Barry takes off again, this time paying attention to the exact moment when the world around him seems to loop back on itself. He makes several passes to work up the speed, gathering energy until he can wield it like a spear, which he throws as hard as he can at the invisible barrier. It strikes with a tumultuous crack, but when Barry grins and starts forward, he finds himself back at Derek's side.

"Well, crap."

Derek ends up tossing the coat over the back of a rarely used patio chair dusted with snow, watching as Barry moves again. He can smell the electricity in the air and can't quite suppress his flinch at the crack of lightning, knowing just what that could do to a werewolf.

"Indeed," Derek says dryly, turning his head to look at Barry once it appears that he's planning on standing still, at least for the moment. He smells like raw energy on top of the more natural, almost sweet smell of him. There's a part of Derek that wants to lean in and inhale, but he manfully holds himself back.

"I'm sorry that you were swept up in this," Derek says sincerely, waiting to see how Barry will react towards him once it sinks in that he's stuck here.

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