My sanctuary

The light knock at Locke’s door came at 3:45 am, on the dot. If he had been any more asleep, it wouldn’t have woken him, but he wasn’t having an easy night.

He hesitated slightly, slipping out from under his blanket and throwing his jacket over his shoulders as some sort of protection to the cold. It was almost winter, it was getting colder and colder these days.

Tiptoeing to his own door, Locke listened out for any new noises.

His roommates were all away on their own separate adventures, and he’d offered to look after the apartment in their absence. He was kind of regretting that now, with paranoia creeping up his spine like a spider.

He hovered over the doorknob. If worse came to worse, he could always try to fight off a potential aggressor. Ok, deep breath, don’t focus on those thoughts.

Before letting himself wimp out, he opened the door a crack.

“‘Ello?”

Stood on the other side was Lost, shivering, practically hyperventilating, and seemingly on the verge of tears. Locke threw all of his previous paranoia to the wind and opened his door fully.

Before he could speak, however, Lost practically fell into him, and he was lucky his reaction times weren’t complete ass and he was able to catch them. The two stood there for a while, in a strange half hug, half steadying position.

“Mush, what’s up?” Locke whispered, patting Lost’s back in an attempt to calm them, “Did someone ‘urt ya’?”

Lost didn’t respond, not even with a nod or a shrug.

Ok.

Locke slowly but surely chaperoned Lost to his sofa, closing the door with his foot in the process. All in all, it didn’t take a dreadfully long time, he’s definitely had worse times chaperoning people.

Once they were there, he sat them down and wrapped his jacket around their shoulders, crouching down so they were face to face.

“‘Ey, what’s up?” Locke kept his voice quiet, something his mum did when comforting him, “Are ya’ ‘urt, physically?”

Lost contemplated this, and then shook their head slightly.

“That’s good,” Locke tried to smile reassuringly, but it felt more like a grimace, “What’s got ya’ down?”

Locke vaguely gestured all around, something they did when the world — real or not — was getting to them.

“Ok, can I ‘elp at all?” Locke finally stood up, stretching as he did, “Anythin’, nothing’s off the table.”

Lost shrugged slightly, and then made a vague movement that Locke could somewhat translate as them wanting a drink. He was second guessing himself about that, though.

“Drink?” He asked, just to be sure.

A nod.

“Can do,” Locke started walking to his kitchen, “All I gots right now is coke cans, ‘ope that’s a’right for now.”

He couldn’t see their response, obviously, but even if they didn’t finish it, he could finish it. He saw this as an absolute win.

Opening up his fridge, he grabbed a can as quickly as he could. Closing the fridge door with his hip, he worked on opening it as he walked back to his sofa.

“You’re always welcome ‘ere, mush,” He handed Lost the can, which they accepted with a nod, “Even if the world’s scary, I’m always ‘ere for ya’, a’right?”

Lost looked at him with wide eyes, like they’d just seen a ghost.

“I know, it’s a curse, y’will never escape me,” Locke made vague ghost noises while wiggling his hands, “I’ll be here foreeeeeveer.”

Lost smiled slightly, behind the can of coke they were slowly sipping on. That was a win, in his books, even if it was only a small one.

“You’ll be a’right, I’m here t’kick the world’s ass for ya’,” Locke took his seat next to them, leaning back, “No one’s gonna ‘urt ya’, not while I’m here.”

Locke shut his eyes with a sigh, he was exhausted — not with Lost, mind you — and it felt like his bones were turning into a fine dust. It was like fatigue was seeping into his very being.

His eyes shot open as he felt something touch his hand, and he looked down to find Lost holding onto his hand, very slightly.

“You ‘n’ me,” Locke mumbled, smiling less grimace like this time, “Promise.”