Rough Night? || Matthew

[Ivan M. Braginsky]

Ivan M. Braginsky Tired and worn from a life made of wallow and pain   Of what will be made is all that remains at the core TAG Matthew Williams WORDS 760 NOTES Apparently Ivan doesn't have enough on his plate, since he seems intent on helping every troubled person on the streets of Archadia... >>

Another extended volunteer shift finished. It seemed that was all that filled Ivan's days now... work, work, and more work. He wasn't complaining. The repetitiveness of filing papers and sorting through books was calming and kept his thoughts rooted and from wandering. But it was also tiring, and he found himself in need of air after a straight twelve hours cooped up inside. Twelve? Perhaps more, not counting the break he'd taken to go home and check on Laika. It was too easy to lose track of time when he put himself to a task. Instead of heading directly for home, Ivan lingered in Central Park. It wasn't a bad place, he decided, if not for the heavy, smothering silence that hovered everywhere. It was somewhat unsettling. 'Well... what else did I expect in the middle of the night.' He checked his watch... a quarter to 10 already. He needed to get out early one of these days and actually go around the city. Laika would enjoy it, too. Now that he had a dog, he ought to take the time to actually take care of her. Ivan headed down the front steps of the library. He moved, steadily, about the perimeter of the park — eyes on the sky half the time and on his path the other half. It took him a while to notice he wasn't alone in the park. As Ivan rounded a corner, he caught sight of the silhouette of a man curled up one of the park benches. The man was blonde, his slightly disheveled hair swept across his face. His chest rose and fell with his slow breaths — he seemed deeply asleep. Ivan stopped. He stared, rooted to the spot, at the man on the bench. All he could think was of the cold. It would not be pleasant tonight. Especially, Ivan imagined, not to someone sleeping on a hard bench in the open park. Should Ivan... wake him up? But, what if the man was homeless? It might be better if he just let him be. Or bought a sandwich and drink and left it silently. Ivan squinted through the dark, looking the subject of his attention up and down. He had never seen this one around the city before. And the boy (he wasn't a child, but he certainly wasn't young) looked decently dressed. If he was just taking a nap, surely he'd want to be woken up. It was getting late, and very dark — someone might be waiting for him at home. If that was the case, then Ivan should... Ivan shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Then shifted it back. God, indecision was not something he wanted to deal with right now. He set to walking while he was at it. At least he'd be doing something and not just standing around and doing nothing. He mulled it over until he saw the light of an open shop spilling across the sidewalks. He went in and bought a turkey sandwich and a large paper cup of hot tea. Why not. If he went back and the person had woken up and gone home, or elsewhere — no loss. He'd have a sandwich and drink for himself. '... it will all likely end up in the trash, in that case. But whatever.' The walk back to the park was too quick for Ivan's comfort. He found his way back to the bench, and of course. The boy was still there, sprawled across the bench. Now that Ivan was close enough, he was beginning to wonder why he'd ever assumed the man was without a home. He looked clean, and not too badly fed. "Not too badly" being the key phrase. At least the food wasn't going to waste. Even if the boy was definitely not homeless, he didn't look like he had much meat on those bones. Ivan was going to force that sandwich and tea into his hands. "Hello?" There was no response. At least, if there was one Ivan didn't pick up on it. He idly considered moving on and forgetting that he'd ever even seen the man... save himself some trouble. Instead, Ivan approached the bench. He cleared his throat. No response again. Ivan hesitated... he really should leave off. He set the sandwich on the far side of the bench. Carefully, he laid a hand on the blonde's shoulder, hoping to shake him awake as gently as possible. "Pardon me... I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you are all right?"

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