Late night bruises and morning coffee

[Deleted]

His pocket change jumped out of his pocket as he went fishing for it, falling onto the floor before he could do anything to prevent it. The cafe wasn't too crowded, it never was that late in the morning, but the noise it made immediately attracted the attention of a few customers, heads turning his way and distant annoyed grunts reaching his ears as he knelt down to pick up his mess. It wasn't the best of days. He hadn't exactly had one in a long time anyway, but as he looked at the various coins on the ground, he knew he couldn't take much more of little bad lucks like this before he'd break. He was exhausted.

Slowly, with shaking hands, he gathered up the pieces closest to him, but as he reached out to grab a nickel that had rolled a little further away all he had picked up fell right back on the floor. He winced at the noise, and then again at the sigh of exasperation he heard behind him. He was trying, trying really hard, but in his state, he had a difficult time keeping his hands from trembling. For the second time he reached out for his coins, and this time was successful in grabbing them all without a spill. He did not even know how much he had, but he hoped it would be enough.

Once up, hands clenched to prevent any more accidents, he made his way to the counter. Just before he could make it, however, someone quickly went past him and cut him to the line, hitting him in the left shoulder and nudging him sideways. The contact was surprising, but more so was the pain he felt lancing through his arm. Of course, it had to be on his bad shoulder. He bit his lip, eyes shut tight, trying not to cry out. No, today really wasn't good.

After a few deep breath the pain subsided. Good. Attempt number two. Slowly, looking around him to avoid hitting someone else, he finally made it to the register, and he saw the lady behind it take a step back as he approached. Oh, he had forgotten about his black eye and bruises. It was with an apologetic smile that he ordered his coffee, and it was with a worried look that the young lady gave him the price. Right, money. Cautiously he opened his hand and started counting what he had. In a moment of confusion he found himself having to count a second time, and then a third time. He did not have enough. "Of course..." he sighed, hand clenching once again.

Isla Hudson

[Isla Hudson]

The little coffee shop was a regular stop for Isla, it was between her apartment and the hospital, so she came by regularly, either to grab something quick on the way to work or class, or to sit and sip a mocha latte while she finished out the charts she needed for class or went over lessons.

Today she was headed home from a rotation at the hospital, and she was not only exhausted, but her head was aching, something she knew a mocha with an added shot would cure...and funny, but it wouldn't keep her awake, caffeine didn't seem to bother her.

Shifting her backpack, she stepped into the store, noticing first thing the man who was fumbling to pick up his change. She certainly could sympathize, she'd had those sorts of days where nothing went right and everything she did got muddled and messed up, and it sure didn't help when people got angry with her for no reason, and she was inclined to give the rude guy who pushed into line a talking to, but for now the incident was over, so she relaxed.

But then it was evident that the poor guy didn't have enough for even a coffee, and while she wasn't in the habit of baring in to other people's affairs, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy, so she stepped beside him. "Don't worry, I got it..."

Smiling, she looked at the clerk. "I'd like a double-shot mocha, please, and a blueberry scone." Looking up at the man, she asked, "What about you?"

@isaac,

[Deleted]

Another little bad luck on a day that had had enough of them already. It wasn't much of a surprise, nothing had gone well for Isaac in a long time, but after the night he had had, spilling all of his change on the floor, and now, being unable to afford a coffee, it was starting to be a lot to take in in such a small window of time, and he was breaking, yet, trying not to let it show. For a moment, fighting back tears he felt were stupid, he blankly stared at his clutched hand, wondering if he had simply counted his change wrong and maybe he would magically have the right amount the next time he did. Then again, maybe he had forgotten a piece on the floor? As he was about to count again, however, a lady stepped beside him and her words caught his attention, stopping him before he could even open his hand. He blinked at the stranger, and the clerk sighed in relief, glad that someone had stopped him from wasting more of her time.

He could only watch as the lady went up to the counter and placed her order, eyes wide and mouth opened as if to protest what he had heard, but not a word had come out. The clerk was smiling back at her, avoiding to look at Isaac as if he wasn't there anymore, but he wasn't too concerned about that. No, he had almost dropped all of his change again in the surprise, and he couldn't understand how someone had offered to help him out of nowhere like that. It was the most unusual of things that had happened to him since he had come back to Chicago. Maybe unfortunately, but it was the truth. His bruises were witnesses to his misfortune, and again today he carried a few.

When she turned to him, asking him what he would like, he shook his head, and he saw the clerk's smile die out as she looked at him too. "Miss, I cannot... I cannot ask this of you." His voice was quiet, tainted with his disbelief that this was really happening. She looked tired, she must have her own issues to deal with, he couldn't drop his own on her. At his words the clerk rolled her eyes, annoyed that he was making this longer than it already was, but he had to insist. It was very kind of her, but he couldn't be a burden to her, more than he already was to the world. "It's very kind, but I cannot..." No, this felt like it shouldn't be happening to him and he had a hard time looking at her directly as he spoke, so he looked at his hand, clutched his money tighter.

[Isla Hudson]

"It's all right," she said softly, looking up at him with a smile. She wasn't going to coerce him, or insist, but she was still going to try a little! It was just in her nature to help, and there were so many times she couldn't, either because of circumstances or funds, so she really didn't mind when the elements came together.

"Please, it's not a problem, and you can join me, or not." She at least wanted to remove the constraint of obligation, so that he didn't feel like he had to stick around and show gratitude or whatever...if he was more comfortable taking the things and leaving, she was fine with that.

Still, she did like people and enjoyed getting to know them, and besides, the man looked like he could use a little TLC, so she did hope he would decide to stay, at least for a few minutes.

"Are you ordering?" the cashier asked, not quite rude, but clearly impatient. It wasn't rush-hour busy, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to get things done.

@isaac,

[Deleted]

It was all very unfamiliar, and he didn't know where to put himself, awkwardly standing on the sidelines and watching it all happen before his eyes. It definitely was with surprise that he watched the young lady smile at him, and it was too much of a shock for him that he couldn't smile back at her, only look back with an expression of confusion, as still as a statue with his hand held out, clutching at his money. It would have been the polite thing to do, but his brain had ceased to process what was happening, and he hadn't been able to reply to her. Was it all right? He did not feel like it was.

Not a problem. Join her. He hadn't had company since he had first stepped back in Chicago. He had done everything alone, and it was for the best, he knew it was for the best, but he couldn't help the feeling of loneliness. That had never left ever since he was 16, it was almost all he had ever known, yet, it still hurt. But every time he did have company, it never went well. So, he couldn't say he was comfortable with any of it, couldn't say if it would be a good or a bad idea to accept. Yet again, he said nothing, only blinked at the suggestion, eyes still wide, awkwardly shifting on his feet. He did not know how to answer that.

Then the clerk spoke, and he flinched at the tone. Pressing him like that wasn't helping. He couldn't put this on her like that, but he needed a coffee, otherwise, he'd rather not think about what would happen... "Just... I'll just have a coffee." It was very quietly that he said it, barely believing he had had the strength to actually say the words. "But please, let me at least... give you what I have." He suddenly extended the hand that held his change in her direction, hoping she would take it. No, he wasn't worth that kindness, he couldn't let it all fall on her like that. It wasn't much, but it could at least help to pay for it all.

[Isla Hudson]

"Oh, sure." Isla smiled brightly, wishing that there was a way to convince the man that she didn't pity him, that she was doing this because that was just how things should be...you helped each other. Still, she took the money, hoping he'd feel a little better.

"So," she turned back to the barista,"coffee, too, and a plain bagel, toasted, please." She paid for the purchase, using his change as part of the payment, curious about the scrapes and bruises but not asking. They seemed fresh, but not brand new, and he seemed to be doing all right, for now.

"I'm Isla," she introduced herself, then the barista set out her order on the counter and she frowned. "Um, here's your coffee, and...darn, I guess I forgot I ordered a scone and got an extra bagel..." It was a poor ruse, but the best she could do and hoped he'd accept her offer as she held the bagel to him.

"I'm going to sit back there," she added, "if you want to join me."

Again, she hoped he'd accept but didn't think he would. Still, he looked like he could use some kindness, and that was something that was easy to give.

@isaac,

[Deleted]

A sigh of relief escaped him as the lady took the money from his extended hand. It wasn't much, probably wouldn't cover even one of the things she had ordered, but if he couldn't convince her that he wasn't worth her kindness, he could at least help to pay a little bit. Her smile was very gentle and bright, but as she flashed it his way, it only made him feel even more miserable. She had only wanted to help and all he had done was to argue and complain, second-guess her intentions, it wasn't right, kind to her.

But he still felt he wasn't worth it, and as he watched her turn back to the barista, he found himself wide-eyed again as he heard her order another pastry. No, paranoia must have originated that thought, but hadn't she already ordered a scone? Was she ordering him food as well? "Miss it's not..." He tried to argue again, tried to tell her it wasn't necessary, the coffee was already too much, but he had interjected too late and she had already paid before his first word. Yet, he had spoken quickly enough to award him a glare from the clerk before she moved to prepare their order.

He unconsciously took a step backwards when Isla introduced herself. A name. If he gave her that, gave her his own, someone would know him in Chicago, someone would know he was in Chicago. Was it safe? Of course it most likely was, but for some reason paranoia had taken hold of him and he couldn't reply to her immediately. She was a stranger, she couldn't possibly know his sister, right? It couldn't be too wrong, too perilous, to tell someone his name, no? Chicago was a big city after all, but he had lived nameless for so long, a protection from the miseries of life he wasn't sure he could do without now...

"I... Isaac." She had bought him coffee, he owed her that much, but it had been hard to say, and the stutter unintentional, but still strong, and he winced at his own voice. He couldn't move, however, frozen on the spot, apprehensive of what would happen now that he had said his name. It was ridiculous, he knew it very well, but he couldn't do anything about it. So he stood, and stared. Until she held the extra bagel his way. "It's... I..." He shook his head slightly, having all intentions of refusing it until he heard his stomach growl. Oh. The sudden realisation that he hadn't had something to eat in... in how long? He wasn't sure if he should count in hours, or days. With a shaking hand he grabbed the bagel, too taken aback to think of thanking her.

"I'm not sure..." it's a good idea. He looked up from the bagel in his hands, suddenly clutching at it a little harder. He was lonely, that he couldn't deny, but hadn't he been enough of a burden already? He couldn't impose on her even more than he already had.

[Isla Hudson]

"Pleased to meet you, Isaac." Isla smiled, trying to put him at ease, and while she wasn't in the habit of picking up strays, so to speak, there was something about the man. Sure, he was battered and bruised, but he was clean and well-groomed, polite, and didn't reek of alcohol, certainly not the typical 'urban outdoorsman' that she ran into in the ED.

No, there was something about him, his quiet, reserved manner, that told her he could probably use a break, and she didn't mind offering him that. Nor did she mean to force him to take it, after all, not everyone was comfortable in social settings, especially with complete strangers.

"Really, it's no problem." She shrugged, then nodded to the table again. "Like I said, you can join me if you want," she grinned, "it'll give me an excuse not to have to pretend to be studying for a while. I'm in nursing school -- just about done -- getting ready for finals, but sometimes it kind of makes my head hurt and I think that it might be better to just back off and..."

Her cheeks took on a slight blush. "And I talk too much sometimes. Anyway, I'll be there."

With drink and scone in hand she headed to the table then let her backpack slide to the floor before sitting, not watching him so as to let him feel free to make his own decision without obligation.

@isaac

[Deleted]

Her choice of words had him in shock, and he blinked at her once again. "Pleased?" He whispered, and then mouthed it, wondering if he had heard right for she couldn't really be that, no? No one was ever pleased to meet him, had ever been, and after all he had asked of her, how he had argued her kindness, he couldn't believe she could be. He was a stranger, in bad shape and poor state, and now, without any money to his name. True, he might not be smelling of alcohol, but unfortunately, it was a rare occurrence, and the only reason why he wasn't right now was because he hadn't drank in two days. It was hard, left his body in such a state he could barely believe he had been able to walk that morning, left it in such a state only coffee could help him go through the day, quiet the shaking that had taken to his arms. It had always been hard, but it was a feat he was ready to attempt again. Attempt...

No problem... He was still holding up the bagel as she spoke, mouth opened to protest again, looking all the bit like an idiot. At least, that is how he imagined he looked to the other surrounding customers, and probably what the barista thought he was. He couldn't talk, interject, just listen to her. Because he couldn't find the words, but also because it would be impolite to interrupt her. He followed her gaze as she nodded towards the table, and then came back to her, to be suddenly overwhelmed by a flow of words. It wasn't that she was speaking fast or that he did not understand, but for a moment he grew dizzy as he tried to follow what she was saying. And before he knew it she was apologising and making her way to the table she had designated earlier.

He felt awful for not having said a word, awful for suddenly feeling like running. She had made it clear that it was his choice, that he could sit with her or leave, but would he chose either option he would feel horrible. She had been very kind to him, but holding a conversation was absolutely not his strong suit, he wouldn't be good company. For a moment he eyed up the bagel in his hand, and then the coffee that still laid on the counter. The barista eyed him back, annoyed that he was blocking the line. She pushed his coffee his way, leaving him little choice to grab it before it fell off. Coffee in one hand and bagel in the other he waited a moment, thinking about it all, before he took a step towards the exit. A few steps away, however, he stopped, and then turned back and walked towards her table. "I... I am sorry. You did this for me, and I never said thank you." He looked at his feet rather than Isla, shifting his weight from one to the other. "Thank you." He looked up at her, slowly, sorry.

[Isla Hudson]

"You're welcome." Isla smiled at him, then nodded to the chair across from her. "You're welcome to sit," she offered, pleased, at least, that he had made it this far. And while she didn't know what the source of his hesitation was, nor did she think it was any of her business, if she could offer some small bit of kindness, she was glad to do that.

Even so, offering was only half of it...he had to be willing to at least come over to thank her and she didn't want to frighten him off. He was in a fragile state, she could sense that much, and she had some small experience in that with her nursing. Still, each person was individual and had different triggers and levels of tolerance. She just hoped that maybe if she tread lightly she could at least offer a few moments respite for him.

"Anyway, I promise not to talk your ear off..." She dug in her backpack and pulled out a journal. "I was just going to jot down about my last shift...I just got done with twelve hours, and it was pretty busy. Nothing too unusual, though, just...there I go, talking all the time again1 Sorry."

Falling silent, she shrugged and took a sip of coffee, then opened the book, shuffling through pages with neatly written text and sketches of all manner of things including anatomy, flowers, critters and just scroll-y ques, until she got to a blank page.

@isaac,

[Deleted]

He hadn't known what to expect, but to receive a simple 'You're welcome.' as an answer, although kind of her, as always, didn't feel right. He had asked a lot of her, he, a stranger, was she really that glad to have helped him? He could understand wanting to help others, he had thought of himself as someone who liked to do the same, before... well, before, but he still couldn't understand why help him. But they were past that now, the coffees and pastries had been bought, he couldn't change it. Yet, he did not know if he should sit with her... He had nowhere to be, had no one else to meet, all the time to lose. Although he would have preferred not to lose it in Chicago, but he was there now anyway, and he had nowhere else to go... He shifted awkwardly on his feet as he eyed the chair she had nodded to, clutching a little harder at his bagel.

He watched as she dug for he journal in her bag, still standing awkwardly by the chair. He felt a little out of place as he stood there listening to her, but as he heard her words, surprise took over awkwardness. "That's... a lot of hours." Twelve consecutive hours was extenuating, he knew it, and he remembered just how much he had dreamt of his bed after such a shift, so, it was a little surprising to learn that and find Isla sitting here, in a cafe. "Hum... shouldn't... shouldn't you be running to a bed after that much?" He shifted again, looking at his feet rather than at Isla, not shy, but yet again, awkward. He hadn't done this in so long, he felt as if he would have to re-learn everything just to have a normal conversation, and he felt ridiculous just thinking about it.

Her journal. He couldn't say he owned one of his own, but he did the same as her, except, he wrote his thoughts in letters he would never send instead of a book. The practice was soothing, a great help when he wanted to sort out his mess and calm himself down after most of his miserable days. He had been doing it for a long time too, but not a lot as of late. So it was with a certain longing that he looked at Isla's journal, memories running wild in his mind. Days of old, friends that had come and gone, his sister... Without realising it he sat down, putting his coffee and bagel in front of him, eyes on the journal and mind filled with so many memories he couldn't think of anything else. He felt water in his eyes after a moment, and quickly he looked away from the book, trying to push them away. Maybe he should leave.

[Isla Hudson]

It was strange, but Isla found herself almost holding her breath as he hovered there, afraid that the wrong move or sound might spook him off, and then he settled across from her, his attention on the book. This particular page was only half-written on -- notes about her last shift, nothing intimate or earth-shattering, and a few hasty sketches of a cat, a rose and three stick-figures, two with skirts -- so she had no reason to try to hide it.

Once he had settled down, she shrugged before taking a sip of her latte. "I'm kind of wound up after work, you know," her tone was mild, like she was just chatting with an old friend, "and since I don't have to work tomorrow, it's nice to be able to wind down, you know?"

She took a bite of her muffin, starting to doodle in the book, just scrolls and flowers around the edge of the page. "I do have a test, but that's not until tomorrow..." Her nose wrinkled up. "Seems like we have a test almost everyday...I'm a nursing student, almost done, though."

At that, she couldn't help but smile a little proudly, it had been a long road, something she considered a big accomplishment and a step toward complete separation from the 'old' Isla who had allowed a man to dominate and abuse her.

"What would you do," she asked, trying to stay conversational, "if you could be anything you wanted to?" That would give him the opening without assuming he had a profession, or wanted to discuss what he actually did...

@isaac

[Deleted]

He hadn't read what was written on the page, had no intention of doing so and intruding in her privacy. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind. He had simply stared at the journal, and had fallen into a bottomless pit of memories he had a hard time crawling out of. None of those thoughts he really wanted to think about right now, but he felt too weak to fight it, and he felt awfully stupid for letting it take such a hold on him in a public place, and for letting it show. He knew his hand had started shaking against the table. All of that over a journal, but after having been shown kindness he was unused to and did not exactly felt that he deserved, and added to the general state he was in, his brain was completely out of it. Enough that to forget about it all he suddenly felt like drinking. He couldn't, not now, not after two days without it, so quickly his shaking hand reached out to grab his coffee. The sip he took was burning hot, and his eyes watered up a little, but it drove away the need for alcohol, so he couldn't complain.

Her voice was a distant echo at first, he couldn't catch her words, but her tone caught his attention. It was comfortable, familiar, and oddly enough, welcomed and feared at the same time. It made it that the situation wasn't more awkward than it already was and he was grateful to her for that, but to know that a stranger was comfortable enough around him was slightly terrifying. He wasn't what he considered a people person, had, over time, lost the little people skills he had had in the past, and she did not know him, did not know what he had done. In that he found no relief, more so became afraid he would let her down, disappoint yet another person even if he might never see her again after that, even if she might not have enough interest in him to care. So he said nothing, and stared at his coffee, nervously playing with it, feeling bad for not talking but not wanting to subject her to what he was. A mess.

But he listened. She had mentioned being in nursing school, and now, after hearing about the amount of time she had to give into work, he knew all of it must have been incredibly hard work, and it was impressive. He saw her proud smile too, and in turn he smiled, but very weakly, and quickly enough it vanished. He had never made it past high school. Another thing to add to the long list of his 'non-accomplishments'. It was a sad thing that this list was longer than the 'accomplishments' one, if there even was an item on it, but it was his fault, he couldn't blame it on anyone else but himself. He had nothing to speak for, very little to his name, and he wouldn't wish that situation on anyone, so he was proud of her, even if he was but a stranger.

Her question caught him off-guard, but everything had ever since he stepped into the cafe that morning. He had been cautiously dragging his bagel towards him just before she spoke, and at her words he stopped, looking up at her with a an expression he himself did not know showed what. He was worried, for many reasons, but he felt most of them were irrational. If he answered, would he disappoint her? Show just how much of a pointless man he was? Was she questioning him because his bruises were worrying her? He wouldn't blame her if they did. And then again, to let someone know about him could be risky... No, that was paranoia talking.

"I don't know..." After a while he sighed, looking down at his bagel and picking at it instead of looking at Isla. She had been conversing with him this whole time, he owed her an answer, if not more after what she had done for him, but it took him a while to find the words. "Something that... that would be helping others..." He had failed miserably in doing that in the course of his life, so if he really could be anything, he wanted to be someone that could fix that. He had caused too much pain already, but at the point where he was in his life, he had a hard time believing it wasn't too late, and he really couldn't think of what job exactly would allow him to do that. Town drunk wasn't much of a help to anyone...


note: I am sorry it took so long, and also that this is so long, I hadn't expected that D:

[Isla Hudson]

"Helping others...that's a good thing to want to do." Smiling, Isla took a bite of her muffin and chewed on it for a moment before adding, "My brother's a paramedic, so he can help people that way."

A fond smile graced her lips as she paused a moment before continuing. "He'd hate it if he knew I said this, but he's kind of my hero...he took care of my sister and I after our parents...well, he's a great big brother!"

Her smile widened. While things hadn't always been perfect, and there had been times that they'd butted heads pretty hard, she had come to realize, as she got older, that he had done the best he could think of, especially considering how young he'd been.

"You know, if you think about it, almost everything helps people in one way or another...even like the people who work here..." She laughed. "I know it helped me to get some coffee and something to eat!"

She suddenly hoped he didn't think she was mocking him, and she quickly amended, "I mean, even just smiling at someone, or something that makes them feel good when they're having a bad day is helpful, right?"

Well, dang, she kept encouraging him to talk when he really seemed more content to let her do all the yammering...

@isaac

[Deleted]

He was still picking at his bagel, uncertain of the fact that he could eat it or not when Isla replied, and for a moment, he felt stupid. 'Something that would help others', not his best and most brilliant moment. Did not everyone wished to help people? Wouldn't that be the most obvious answer when asked that question? He should have taken more time to think of something. Leaving his bagel behind he slowly pulled back in his chair and sighed, looking at his hands. It only showed that he had no idea of what to do with himself. A good thing... Maybe one of the only good thing about him, and it was wishful thinking. Unlike her own brother...

He froze in his chair, her words, her tone, echoing in his mind. It took him a moment to find the strength to look up from his hands and look at her, a thousand thoughts racing, the shock hard to shake. Her hero, a great big brother who had taken care of her... Everything he wasn't, hadn't been. A man with a job, a good job, with which he helped people, saved lives. Everything he hadn't been able to do. That man he did not know was everything he wasn't, and to see Isla being so proud of him, to see just how much she loved him, to see her smile, physically hurt. It was all a painful reminder of how much he had failed his own sister, had failed everything. And just then he felt as if he had failed her too.

He had ran. When their mother and brother had died, and their father had turned away from them, he had ran. He hadn't been there for his sister, hadn't taken care of her like he should have. She had been so young back then, they both had been, but she had been counting on him, and he had left anyway. He hadn't been the great big brother that Isla praised hers to be, he would never be. It was too late for that. Of course, Isla did not know any of that, he wouldn't tell her, but even if she didn't, he felt as if he had disappointed her, like he had thought he would earlier. No one would be proud of him like she was of her brother. Would it had been this way had he stayed?

He did not know how to react to that, but a great sentiment of misery had crept onto him, and he couldn't look at her. Almost everything helps... He did not feel like he had done something that had helped anyone lately, even if Isla seemed to factor in the little things. It was a good way of seeing the world, being grateful for the little things, the simplest of things, he wished he could do the same, but he had lost the will to try. It had helped her get coffee and food... It hadn't helped him, she had. No, that one he really did not know how to feel about, other than pathetic. "Maybe..." It came out in a sigh, barely audible. He went back to looking at his hands, yet again feeling like he should leave. Leave the cafe, leave Chicago, but he made no move to do it. Thinking of his sister, barely holding it together, he felt too weak to move.