Hi I've updated this a little.

I hope you enjoy it.

I know Flash&Piper aren't the most popular people but how can you say no to those pretty faces :3

Hartley wiped his sleeves across his eyes, trying to stop the tracks of tears freezing to his face.

He held his hands out to the dust-bin fire, trying desperately to warm them, his teeth chattering madly. His very bones freezing despite the layers of clothes covering him.

He'd been stuck in this dreadful situation for almost two weeks, the snow simply wouldn't stop. He'd been forced out of his apartment when his landlord had realised who he was, he'd called the police, and Hartley had had to leave without his things, grabbing only the bare essentials.

He'd tried to get some money out, but they'd blocked his account, that bastard had told everyone who he was.

He'd called his 'friends' and they'd denied him, they knew everyone knew, and if he went with them, everyone would know about them too.

So he'd just walked, with no idea where to go, no idea how far.

Just walked.

The snow had started a day and a half ago, and he couldn't find his way back, not that 'back' was where he'd wanted to go, there was nothing there for him.

Nothing.

He was so cold.

He hardly noticed he was crying until the liquid had frozen to his face.

"Come on sweet thing…" one of the 2 other homeless standing round the bin said, "Don't cry… I've got a couple'a bucks spare, I'm sure there's some way you can persuade me to give 'em to you."

"Fuck you," Hartley growled, rubbing his hands together to try to keep them warm.

The 2nd homeless man chuckled, "Maybe we should invoke a tax for using our fire, wana stay warm? Gotta give us something."

With the last word Hartley turned away, he had no strength to fight, in the past few days he'd eaten next to nothing, he could feel his body eating what little fat he had on him. He walked quickly out from the shelter of the bridge, and into the swirling snow that filled the cold night.

He was so cold, so unbelievably hungry.

He stumbled down the white road, he had no where to go, but he kept walking, he had to.

He looked up at a street sign and smiled slightly, he knew where he was, he was about 2 hours from James's house, and James was in jail at the moment, he could break in, he'd have a bed to sleep in at least.

That was two hours away.

He didn't know if he could make it that far, he was too cold and too hungry.

He bit his lip, hard, anything to distract from the cold.

He stumbled forward, fighting the wind, pushing his tinted glasses close to his face, hoping they would act like goggles and protect him against the snow, the wind was whipping his hair into his face, the snow was so thick he could barley see.

He felt his legs beginning to buckle, a mix of cold, hunger, and the wind hitting him from all directions, threatening to knock him over.

He wasn't going to make it.

He couldn't take two hours of this.

He couldn't.

There was no way.

He needed some kind of food.

Something to strengthen him.

He retraced his steps: he had seen a bin, it had looked rather full.

It made his stomach turn simply thinking of doing it… but he had to, he had to eat something.

He didn't want them to find him dead in the snow, that was not how he would die.

He didn't want to die.

He could feel tears tracking down his face.

He pulled the lid off the bin and looked inside, pulling out empty fast food boxes, feeling his stomach growling at the mere thought of food, after days without.

…An empty box of chips, and empty bag of pop corn…

Half a burger, no bun, odd. Just the meat, with a string of almost frozen cheese stuck to the top.

He felt sick just looking at it, the snow quickly piling on the brown mush.

He screwed his face up, growling to himself.

Eating meat.

He couldn't.

He couldn't.

Oh shit…

He had to, his body needed it.

He'd die without it, he could feel the nip of it in him.

He took a deep breath, lifting the food to his mouth.

"Sir," a voice came from behind him. Hartley instantly dropped the food, jolting slightly in shock, he turned to look at the man standing behind him.

"Don't do that," the blonde haired man said, "Please?"

Hartley frowned.

What did this guy want…?

"What…?" Hartley managed to say through his shivers.

What did he want?

Money?

He may be homeless, but at the moment he certainly didn't look it; he was in his best green trench coat… though he'd had to smear dirt over it to stop those drunken morons trying to steal it, and he was wearing his warmest pair of boots, they looked, as James had said 'fancy'.

Sex then, maybe?

He… didn't look at his best; several days without any contact with water, no washing, no drinks.

His hair was mussed and greasy, he looked as he felt; like death…

"I… I live near here, if you're hungry I have food."

Sex, definitely sex.

Maybe the distraught and distressed energy Hartley was exuding turned the man on?

How depraved.

But… free food… and Hartley was more than capable of defending himself if he needed to.

Hartley swallowed hard, and walked towards the sleek looking man.

The man smiled, "…It's just a block away, can you walk that far?"

Hartley nodded, he held out his hand to shake that of the man. The man smiled, "I'm Barry, nice to meet you."

"H-" he stopped for a second, was it a god idea to tell this man his real name?

Everyone knew 'Hartley Rathaway' as 'The Pied Piper', but he didn't look like himself at the moment.

If this 'Barry' found out his name, then he might tell the police, Hartley would be in jail by morning.

He shuddered, he didn't want that.

"-Harry."

The man smirked, "Nice to meet you."

They ended their handshake and began their walk south.

"I hope you like rigatoni, it's all I have at the moment," the man shouted through the snow.

Hartley nodded, he was still keeping up the 'do you want food' charade, "As long as there's no meat in it then I'll agree."

The man chuckled gently, "No, no, just tomato and cheese tonight."

They walked in silence for the most part, too cold to talk, they concentrated on not falling as they walked.

Hartley tensed as they rounded the corner to an apartment building, suddenly remembering a story about a man who had talked a boy into his apartment by saying he had food, and then trying to kill him and put him with a mound of other homeless he had hidden under his floorboards.

…But Hartley could defend himself if he needed to.

The man put a key in the door and opened it, Hartley felt the warm glow of shelter wash over him as he entered the block, and immediately felt himself begin to sweat due to the mass temperature change.

Warmth, thank fuck.

The man smiled at the look of relief on Hartley's face, "Would you like a shower before you eat?" he asked as he unlocked the door to his apartment, ground floor, good, Hartley could escape easily.

Hartley nodded as he entered the warm apartment; old-ish style, smelled 'antique-y'.

"Uh," Barry looked around as he took his coat off, "Bathroom is that way," he nodded down a short hallway, "Make yourself at home."

Hartley nodded and walked towards the room.

Shit, he was going to be raped, he was sure.

Barry watched the long haired man walk down the hall, and sighed, he shook his head.

Poor Piper, and when he'd been so close to reforming.

He needed positive influence now.

More than anything.

Hartley knew he had to be quick; in, out, no more than 5 minutes.

Don't let your guard down, don't you dare, not again.

He tore off his clothes and hopped in the shower.

He turned on the water and soaped himself quickly, rinsing the soap off almost as soon as it foamed.

Same with his hair; shampooed twice and conditioned, as quick as possible.

Repeating swear words in his head, something was going to happen to him, he'd take what he could while he could, but the second things started to go south he was out.

He'd been crossed too many times to trust this man, Hartley was sure no one in their right mind would.

He climbed from the shower and grabbed a towel, he could hear his heart in his throat, nothing had gone wrong so far… and he could smell the scent of food, making his empty stomach ache.

He dried himself and re-dressed, getting into dirty clothes felt awful, but he had no alternative.

Swallowing hard, he walked into the kitchen, it wasn't hard to find, and saw the man sitting at the table, two plates of food laying there.

Hartley felt water pool in his mouth, god he was so hungry.

He sat at the old oak table, forgetting any pleasantries, and began to eat his food.

Barry watched as he ate, "How long's it been since you ate?"

Hartley shrugged, swallowing his mouthful, "A few days, you lose track easily once you're hungry."

The man frowned, "How long have you been out there?"

Hartley shrugged again, he'd lost track of how long, and honestly he was too focused on 1. Getting food, and 2. Not being raped, to notice how many days or nights had passed.

Honestly even now he was still focused on getting food into him and not being raped by this odd man.

"Why did you invite me in?" Hartley asked, deciding to be upfront.

Barry frowned, "Because it's damn freezing outside and you were eating out'a the trash. I couldn't leave you out there like that when I've got room here."

Hartley took another bite of food, there was more to this story, he was sure, but he didn't want to put the, most likely sensitive, subject, and end up being thrown out.

Barry ate a forkful of pasta, and chewed his lip gently, "My… uh… My wife died a few months ago. And I just can't get over not having another person in the house," he chuckled gently, "I think you've got to be the third person I've..."

Suddenly he squinted, looking a little confused, "I'm sorry, I just realised how that sounded."

Hartley shook his head, it was nice to have some kind of explanation, "It's ok, I understand."

Barry smiled, and Hartley smiled back at him across the table, and they resumed eating.

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