Clarke Winter

The temperature was cold this dark evening, and it would only get colder if the forecast was accurate. Subzero temperatures were not a great time to be caught alone in the street, bleeding through a makeshift bandage and drinking to stay warm - a counter-intuitive strategy, but an idea not thought up by a mind in a rational state.

He staggered into the corner store, his right hand clutching the shallow wound on his abdomen crudely bandaged by somebody who surely had no medical knowledge, and his left hand carrying an almost-empty bottle of what was most definitely cheap homemade alcohol. The "brewery" name written in sharpie marker was smudged and barely readable.

The little bell above the door chimed; a cheerful sound to betray the sight of the man who entered. Shivering, wearing only sweatpants and a bloody plaid shirt that had been unbuttoned to allow for bandaging.

Clarke limped towards the back of the store where medical supplies were kept and fumbled through the shelves. Pill bottles fell to the floor, causing a racket before he finally found what he was looking for: antiseptic, gauze, and a first-aid kit to allow him to clean and stitch the wound.

After many years, Clarke still refused to accept that East Atroe City wasn't the best place to confront potential suspects in your brother's murder.

Nadeem & Nak

Clarke's movements were being watched by a pair of silvery-gray eyes, peering from behind the window of a nearby truck. Those eyes belonged to Nak, the wolfdog who sat patiently in the cab of his human's vehicle, watching the wintery world around him while the lingering heat from a recently running engine kept him toasty and content. Content, that was, until he noticed the man's peculiar behavior and a distinct lack of protective clothing for such chill temperatures. "Nadeem!" Nak woofed, collie-like ears perked. He pressed his nose against the window, "Nadeem! Watch out!" The woof evolved into a sharp bark, fruitlessly trying to warn his human of this newcomer, just in case he meant trouble. "Someone's coming! Hey! Hey!" Alas, no matter how loudly the collie-mix barked, his words of warning were muffled by the truck and the distance between him and his master.

-----

Inside the store, Nadeem already had an armful of groceries, and didn't bother to look up when the door chimed and another customer walked in. He was on his way to the checkout when the sound of cascading items caught his attention, and only then did he set his purchases on the counter and turn his dark eyes towards the sound of the commotion. Did someone just fall? The thought crossed his mind, and he glanced back to the counter - the attendant was gone though, probably in the restroom or supply closet, he figured. "Are you okay?" Nadeem's concern grew when the sound of falling supplies continued, and that urged him forward.

Kicking into a hurried jaunt, he headed down the length of the corner store and turned into the aisle where the racket had come from. The sight of blood hit Nadeem first off, and out of instinct and ample experience, he called out loudly enough for the store's attendant to hear, "We need an ambulance!" Without pause, he came forward, "What happened to you? Here now, why don't you sit down - we'll have help on the way soon." His eyes turned to the bloodied clothes, trying quickly to discern what might have happened, and what kind of wound it was, so that he might pitch in and help as long as this fellow didn't prove to be combative.

Clarke Winter

The scene played in Clarke's head over and over again. Meeting an old man at the agreed-upon location under a streetlight in the parking lot of a local deli after closing time to interview him and glean some information from him. Most of it was a blur, and if he got any info from the old man, he didn't remember it. All he remembered was getting stabbed and calling his ex-girlfriend for help. She drove him to her place, bandaged him up ("my aunt was a nurse, trust me," she assured him), and told him to stay put while she was at work. Needless to say, Clarke didn't stay put. Should he be bleeding this much? He probably shouldn't.

He snapped out of his drunken flashback when he heard a voice. "Are you okay?" Hmph. He must be imagining things. But the voice persisted. "We need an ambulance!" Clarke's gaze shot up too quickly, inducing a spell of dizziness. He grabbed the shelf behind him to steady himself. "Don't... don't worry about it. I can fix it." His speech, with an accent vaguely reminiscent of Scottish, became more and more slurred as he spoke. "Just... wrong place... wrong time." He took another drink of the pungent mystery alcohol and grimaced at the taste. At Nadeem's request, Clarke eased himself down onto the floor, wincing as the skin around the wound stretched. This led to more bleeding and he was beginning to feel faint. "Hey... uh... if that ambulance could come quick... I don't know if I'm supposed to be bleeding this bad... 'cause the knife... barely... it barely went in." A worried expression fell over his face. Could this be the end?

"Jess... is gonna be... so pissed." He put a shaky hand into his pocket and pulled out a phone. He fumbled around with the screen, leaving bloody fingerprints all over it but never reaching the contact titled 'Jess', which was followed by a very gratuitous use of emojis and very few of them made sense in context to somebody besides Jess and Clarke. "I need... I need to call Jess. She'll be worried... about me. I shouldn't have left."

Nadeem & Nak

Now Nadeem could smell the alcohol, and for a fleeting moment wondered if this fellow was suffering more from intoxication than any serious wound. But no, that was a decent amount of blood staining his clothes, and the man's telling wince told him that despite Clarke's inebriated state, the injury was severe enough to elicit agony through his drunken stupor. "Wrong place, wrong time? Is the person who did this to you nea- woah there, how about you hand that to me?" When Clarke downed a healthy swig of the foul-scented beverage, Nadeem gingerly reached for the bottle, hoping to coax it from the man without provoking any anger. In this stranger's state, alcohol was not going to be helping matters.

Clarke did comply with sitting down at least, and this led Nadeem to kneeling down beside him and cautiously taking the move to lift the clothes away from the wound that plunged into the man's torso. "Doesn't look too bad." This was a lie of course, "Just hold still, okay? We'll get you patched up, then let the professionals take it from there." Nadeem flashed a small smile, meant to reassure Clarke that all would be well, even if he didn't know that would be the case. The last thing he wanted was for the drunken man to panic and exacerbate his injury. He then leaned on what rudimentary first aid skills he had - mostly in patching up critters, but humans weren't so different. Taking some of the gauze that Clarke had previously knocked down from the shelf, Nadeem tore the package open and began to apply it liberally against the wound, pressing as hard as he dared without causing too much agony. "Just hold still."

The stranger's attention shifted to his phone, and Nadeem's gaze followed after. "Jess, you said?" A list of names flooded the bloodied screen, and sure enough, one of the contacts seemed to match this moniker. With one hand against the gauze, Nadeem reached the other towards the phone, though he didn't make an attempt to grab it, "Is this a friend of yours? Do you want me to call her, and let her know what's going on?"

Clarke Winter

Clarke willingly relinquished the now-almost-empty bottle to Nadeem. "I've had... enough already," he muttered. It was becoming difficult to think and Clarke closed his eyes tightly, trying to find the right words to answer the stranger. "Carver's Bridge... across it. Across Carver's Bridge. Talkin' to a guy and- and he stabbed me." He grimaced at the pain that tore at his side when he made even the slightest movement.

"You... you don't have to lie..." Clarke managed a half-smile when Nadeem tried to reassure him about the severity of the wound. "I've lost... a lot of- AAAGGHH!" The pressure on the wound, light as it was, caught Clarke off-guard. His breathing quickened, as did his heart rate. He did his best to follow directions and hold still, suppressing his fight-or-flight response.

He was able to steady his hands enough to pass the phone to Nadeem. "Yeah. Call Jess. Just... tell her that- that you're a friend... of Clarke." He knew Jess would be absolutely livid and he wasn't sure if she'd ever forgive him.

Nadeem & Nak

Carver's Bridge. It was a location Nadeem tried to stay away from if at all possible, knowing well it's reputation for thugs, dealers, and the shadier folks of Atroe City. It also explained why this poor fellow was in the state he was. Whether Clarke was down there for less than legal intents or just a hapless victim, Nadeem wasn't going to judge. All he knew was this stranger was in desperate need of help, and he was going to provide it as best he could. "I see, I see." He set the bottle of Clarke's aside, and kept his other hand firmly in place, despite the cry of pain. And though he thought about inquiring further about the assaulter, Nadeem felt it best to focus on Clarke's well being first, and let the cops deal with tracking down the attacker.

"I know, I'm sorry. Just hang in there a bit longer, and the paramedics will be here. They'll get you patched up nice and new." His faint smile persisted, along with as calm of an expression and tone as he could manage. A few aisles down, he could hear the attendant shouting, announcing that the ambulance was on the way. With the phone being passed to him, Nadeem took it up and pressed the call button for this 'Jess' individual, then held the device to his ear. "You're name is Clarke? Okay, I'll let her know what's going on." As he waiting for the dial to start, Nadeem scanned over the injured man with more scrutiny, trying to ascertain whether he had any other injuries or conditions, or whether it was just the stab wound. "My name's Nadeem. Do you want me to travel with you to the hospital, until your friend gets there?"

Clarke Winter

Nadeem's smile and calm words did little to reassure Clarke in his state of stabbing pain. He would be writhing if only moving didn't hurt so much. The announcement that the ambulance was coming gave him some relief, though. The sooner he got patched up, the sooner he could get back on his feet and out into the world. "T-travel with me," Clarke muttered weakly in response to Nadeem's question.

The phone barely rung once before the woman on the other side picked up. "You've got some nerve running off like that, Clarke, like you always do," she hissed, believing that Clarke had called her. "I'll come save you again but your get out of jail free cards are running out." The sound of an old engine in disrepair could be heard in the background, along with the occasional car horn, suggesting that Jess was already on the road.

Nadeem & Nak

Back outside in the cab of the small blue truck, Nak's ears twitched at a distant scream of sirens. He shuffled on the seat and planted his paws on the dash, nose twitching against the cold windshield and pointing in the direction of the ambulance. The hybrid whined anxiously, then tossed his head upwards as far as he could before his muzzle brushed against the fabric of the roof, and let loose a long and undulating howl.

Crouched several aisle in within the corner store, Nadeem still didn't hear his companion, nor did he have time to check on him right now. He was nodding to Clarke with reassurance, "Of course, I'll come with you." He'd have giving the fellow a gentle clasp on the shoulder at that, but with one hand trying to staunch the flow of blood from the wound, and the other holding the now ringing phone to his ears, Nadeem let his voice do the work. Quite suddenly, a woman's voice broke through the cellphone, hissing and upset. "Uh- actually-" He almost winced at the intensity of it, cleared his throat, and tried again, "M'am, I'm with your friend. My name's Nadeem, and he has been in an accident. There's an ambulance on the way, if you'd like to meet us at the hospital." Judging by the sounds of what could only be described as aggressive driving, Nadeem figured she was probably already halfway here.

Clarke Winter

Clarke knew he was in for it when he overheard the faint sound of a ringing phone. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself in case Jess wanted to talk to him.

"Yeah, sorry," Jess sighed when Nadeem introduced himself. "I've been looking everywhere for Clarke because I told him to stay at my place until I could help him better but he never, ever listens. You tell him that - he never listens. Tell him I said he's gotta start listening to me or-- you know what, nevermind. I'll tell him myself when I get there." She was talking a mile a minute and it was a wonder that she even had enough breath to go on. "I'll meet you at- hey asshole, can you go any slower?!" The horn honked several times, presumably at whatever vehicle happened to be in front of Jess. "...I'll meet you at the hospital." Despite her frustration with Clarke, there was a worried tone in her voice. As much as she put up with his dangerous investigation - the very reason she broke up with him - she cared about him enough to keep him safe.

"Uhhhh..." Clarke moaned, "she's mad... isn't she?" But the fear of whatever retribution he'd face was quickly replaced with relief at the sound of sirens closing in. Maybe he'd pull through after all.

Nadeem & Nak

As the conversation continued, Nadeem's attention was split between listening to Jess, and listening for the approaching sirens. "I'll be sure to let him know, m'am. He's awake and talking right now, so that's a good sign. We'll-" The tinkle of a bell had the man turning to look over his shoulder, even if he couldn't actually see beyond the rows of shelving who had just entered the door. The loud blaring of the sirens outside told him it must be the paramedics, and sure enough, three EMTs were soon rounding the corner with their tools and equipment in hand. "The ambulance is here now. I'll let you go, and meet you at the hospital. Don't worry, he's in good hands now." Nadeem did his best to reassure the stranger before clicking the phone off and sticking it in his own pocket. With the state Clarke was in, Nadeem figured it be better in his care, in case Jess called back.

Now he turned back to the bleeding man, still keeping the calmest composure he could muster, "She's a bit flustered I'd say. More worried than anything." The medics were moving in at this point, "Jess and I both will be there at the hospital now, okay?" With one last word of assurance, Nadeem stood back as one of the paramedics took his place. He stepped back out of the now crowded aisle, taking some time to explain to the crew what all he knew of the situation, including the fellow's inebriated state, and that a companion of Clarke's would be meeting them at the hospital with better information than he had.