The Middle of Nowhere (Rhyler <-- cause its fun to say)

Ty wandered about, not entirely sure where he was or how he got there. That's always the best way to be.

The last thing he remembered was moping about his life, knocking back a few and then.....

He was somewhere. Oh well he didn't really care at the moment. He continued to wander, it was nice where ever he was, silent and open, definitely open.

Maybe he would just stay here forever.

Rhys had planned to stay the night at Ty's place and maybe watch a movie or something, but his plans were ruine when Rhys came to a locked house. Sure, he could break in, but last time Ty had called the police on him.

So, instead, he desided to track the American down.

It wasn't hard, really. Check all of his favorite pubs, ask some bartender if he had seen, "My brotha! He's American too!"

It wasn't too long before Rhys had found the lug wandering in the middle of nowhere. Rhys sighed and pulled his sleeve, annoyed and tired.

"Oi, come on, what are you doing here?"

"Toby," he called with a beaming smile. "Tobias, Tobias, Tobias - I always liked that name."

He scrunched up his brow. He felt like maybe he wasn't supposed to be calling him that but for the life of him, he couldn't recollect what one he was using. This was Toby, who else could he be?

"I don't know what I am doin' here," he looked around him and looked at his friend, "Whach yeah doin' here?" Maybe he knew the answer cause Ty certainly didn't.

Tobias.

"Don't call me that!" Rhys flinched at the use of his real name. Merlin, he hadn't been called that in a while. Rhys grabbed the American's arm, trying to pull him the opposite direction.

"You're drunk, loser," he said, calming down, "I'm here to bring you home before something stupid happens to you,"

Tyler stumbled slightly as Rhys's action propelled him in the direction he hadn't been planing on.

"Well then what am I suppos-ta call yeah?" he honestly couldn't remember the answer to that one.

"I'm drunk? Really? That's funny," Ty said a stupid grin growing on his face, "I don't feel drunk. I feel- I feel..."

"What if don't wanna go home? I like it here Toby," again he slipped completely forgetting that he had been told not to use that name only moments before. "Its nice and open. I like open did you know that? Of course you knew that!"

Rhys continued pulling Ty along, grumbling under his breath about responsibility.

"Rhys. Rhys Haines, remember?" he nudged the older man with an elbow, "I'm not the little orphan kid anymore, okay?"

Giving a small laugh, Rhys began to walk faster. "You're so drunk, Ty. You have a problem." he winced at his name again, "You have to go home to sleep or else your going to sleep in some girl's bed, aren't you? Come on, you can sleep on the couch this time; I get your bed,"

Ty continued to stumble as Rhys dragged him along, muttering to himself.

"Yeah know it rude to mubble in front of people mister!"

"Rhysieee!!" he drawled with excitment as the name came back to his head. "Yer not? Did yeah get parents ag'in?" Ty blinked in confusion. "I wish had parents ag'in."

"Am not Drunk! I only had one, one, ONE drink!! At five different bars," he stated as if that totally made a difference. "What girls bed? Is it a nice bed? I don't wanna sleep Rhysie!! I wanna stay here. Can I sleep here??? Can I?"

Rhys almost stopped, a sad glaze over coming his eyes. A stray pang of loneliness found its way into his chest; He would kill to have his mom back. In fact, he did kill for her before and he'd d it again.

"No, I didn't get new parents," he wrapped an arm around Ty's shoulder, recovering his stone face, "I wish I did too, buddy,

"Only drunks want to sleep on the dirt," Rhys insisted, "I wish I knew which girl you shack up with every night. It's a bed bed though; way too soft. Your couch is better,"

"Oh," Ty stated softly. His brow furrowed as his intoxicated brain continued to think. "Its ain't fair. It ain't fair that some people get to have parents and others don't. Why don't we get to have Parents Rhysie??"

The arm was keeping his drunk feet from stumbling so much, which some corner of his mind - the small minscule part that wasn't booze soaked - was thankful for that.

"Oh well then I don't wanna sleep here. I ain't drunk. I ain't drunk so I don't wanna sleep in the dirt," Ty stated with a nod. "How is my couch better than a bed, bed? Its too soft?"

Rhys patted his back, treating Ty more like a toddler than a friend. "It isn't fair, you're right. We've got to stick together: all us orphans."

Rhys leaned against Ty as he walked, considering calling a taxi. Stifling a yawn, he continued forward, hoping for the warmth of the home.

"Your couch is magically awesome. You love it almost as much as your bed," he lied. It would be easier to dump Ty on the couch anyway; he might as well enjoy a bed, "I get forced on to the bed, okay? We can't sleep together, so I will suffer with the bed,"

Ty nodded his head, acting like the toddler he was being treated like, "Stick togther. I love you Rhysiee, you know that. You're-you're-you're my, my Orphan Brother!"

"Oh... is my bed not magically awesome then?" he pouted in disappointment, and then tilted his head as another question came to him, "Wait then? Why can't we sleep together Rhysie??"

Rhys nodded, trying to stay serious in this light moment. He pulled Ty closer protectively. "Love you too, loser," he sighed, squinting to the dark of night.

"Last time we slept together you almost crushed me in your sleep. You get all huggy and needy when you drink," he replied shortly, "And you have horrible hangover breath. So, you will not sleep on the non-magical bed,"

"I ain't loser," he mumbled to himself, "I'm-I'm- I'm-" he kept stuttering about floundering for the word, the name - his name- but coming up short.

"Did not!" Ty stated childishly even though he did not even really know what they were talking about anymore. "And-and-and I am not huggy or- or need I am, am the bested drunk in the whole wide world!!"

Ty proceeded to pout again, "But what if I wanna sleep on the non-magical bed. I like non-magical... don't I Rhysie?"

As they came to a street, Rhys waved down a taxi. Not even waiting for it to stop, he pushed Ty in and climbed in after as he gave the address.

"Tyler, shut up, okay?" he said softly, "You're a hugging idiot when your drunk,"

He placed a hand on Ty's knee, giving it a comforting pat. "But, your little bro's going to protect you, okay? Hell, you can even sleep in the bed, you baby,"

Tyler crashed against the window and didn't bother to move his head from there, nor did he think or bother to put on a seat belt.

"Don't wanna shut up," he mummbled to the pane of glass his face was now platered to.

He lazily swatted at the hand, but really just ended up more patting it than anything else, "ain't a baby; older than yeah."

Rhys pulled his hand away and pinched Ty's cheek.

"Don't fall asleep, baby! I can't carry you!" he demanded, "And I'm not putting you on the bed if you sleep in here,"

Rhys yawned, streching out his shoulders. "Come on, we're almost home,"

"Oww," Ty groaned and swatted at him again this time just missing completely.

"Ain't, sleepin'," he grumbled, "Just restin' my eyes."

He stayed like that for a long moment, just leaning against the window, his eyes half closed, until -even in his drunk state - his usual panic managed to sink in. It was dulled by the booze - if he had some one him, he could probably make it go away - but still there.

He started weakly floundering for the switch, or crank to put down the window.

"Rhysie," he mumbled lamely, "too closed; ain't like closed."

Rhys wrinkled his brow in aggrivation before he leaned over Ty's lap and opened the window. He leaned back and looked out his own window, sighing.

"Better?" he grumbled, "You're so weird with your fears and stuff,"

Ty practically leaned out his window, gulping at the air as it wizzed by, it making him more alert, but since he had ingested far too much alcohol for health it did not make him anymore sober.

"Thank you Rhysie," he mumbled, "Much better."

"I ain't weird; fears normal, yer wierd," he respondind, curling into his seat, moving much more easily because he had still yet to bother to put on his seatbelt. "Ain't like a wanna be scared."

He blinked a couple of times and then yawned sleepily, "Are were there yet Rhysie?"

Rhys nodded, his eyes watching the street. Cars were odd things, really. They smelled funny too.

"You're weird, " he concluded at last, "I'm weird. We're all weird. Get used to it,"

The cab rolled to a stop and Rhys flung a twenty at the man as he pulled Tyler out. "Come on, bed time,"

Ty made a very childish, petulent sound as he was pulled out of the cab, and took a moment floundering about on his feet before he could walk at all.

"But- But Rhyssieeee I don't wanna be wierd!" he pouted, "And I don't wanna sleep. I don't, I don't, I don't!!! I wanna- wanna-wanna-"

Ty bit his lip and took great a mounts of concentration to come up with what he wanted to do.

"Sinngg!!!!!!" Then he proceeded to go on rather loudly and very off key seranade the night with a song he wasn't entirely sure he knew where it came from.

"Hakuna Matata! Ain't no passing craaaaazzzzze. It means no worries for the rest of your daaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyys!!!"

Rhys stared at the man, his face flickering between annoying, amused, and horrified. He let go of the man before walking to the door.

"Stop that." he sighed, putting a hand to his forehead, "It hurts my brain,"

He jiggled the handle, hoping it would open for him. "What the heck is that song anyway?"

Ty stumbled as he was let go of but by some miracle of the universe managed to actually stay on his feet - just barely. He braced himself on a fence, which cut into his hand.

"Oww!!" he called childishly looking at the wound, "It hurts Rhysie!! The Fense H-h-hurted me!!!"

Horrified at such a suggestion as hurting 'his Rhysie' - something his drunken mind had decided, Ty flung his arms around the boy, "Sorry Rhysiee!! I ain't mean toooo. I'll never-ever-ever-ever do it ag'in. Ever, ever ever." He continued muttering that word to himself, until Rhy's next question made him think.

"Oh... I don't know... its-its-its a song Rhysie... a song about'about... lions... and-and pig thingies," Ty nodded his head, as if this sounded right and then looked at Rhy's attempt to open the door. "I ain't think it opens like that. I think its locked...yeah need a keeyyyyyyy!!"

Rhys turned at his cry of pain, his brow crumpling at the childish behavior that came with it. He walked over and grabbed his hand to examine it.

"It's fine-!" Rhys realised he was talking to drunk Ty, so he took the hand and kissed it, much like a parent for a child, "There, All better."

Rhys wanted to push the boy off, but instead reached into his pockets for his keys.

"It's fine. Really, I don't care. At all, really," He ignored the lion comment; why would lions sing? "Come on, help me find the keys!"

Tyler's pointing went to beaming as his hand was kissed and claimed to be better, "Thank yeah Rhyyssiiee!! Yeah savvedd meee from the bad fense!!" he turned to stick his tongue out at the fense, "Hah!!!!"

He paused at the thought of Keys, "Oh! Right thooseee!! I-I- I had some, before-before sumptin'...." he frowned and started to pat his pockets. "No... not there.. or-or-"

He frowned. He had put them somewhere, he knew that. He had had them he had...

With a call of success he pointed to a useless plant pot that stood on his front stoop, "There Rhysiieee! There, there, there!!!"