Chapter Text
Except for the messy-haired guy at the bar, Clara and her friends were alone in the café. Her friends, who were all a little tipsy, giggled while looking at the barkeeper. Clara could not disagree that the guy was kind of cute, but as the only one who didn’t drink, she at least didn’t get a fit of giggles when he looked over at them. “I’ll get us some drinks!” one of her friends announced, but almost fell when standing up. “Yeah, best not, I’ll get some,” Clara laughed. When she walked over to the bar, the barkeeper looked up and smiled at her. “Sorry for them,” Clara said. “I get them a lot, the barkeeper answered, “I’m Danny, by the way.”
“Clara,” she replied, “err, do you have alcohol-free beer?”
“A bit sick of being the only sober one?” he chuckled, “we sure do.”
“Don’t laugh at me because I don’t drink,” Clara winked, eyeing the silver-haired man next to her, who appeared to be sleeping “I think it’s a wise decision.” But in that moment the man’s head shot up. “Don’t look at me like that, I was fucking innocent!” Clara took a few steps back, almost falling over one of the high chairs. “I – I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean to –“ she began, but it was too late, the man stood up. Clara was terrified by him. His face looked ghostly, his eyes in deep, dark sockets and his cheeks hollow. The three-day stubble didn’t do much good to the sight. Her friends joined her quickly, but it wasn’t necessary, as soon as the man took one step he sunk through his knees on the floor, where he started vomiting. “Malcolm, fuck!” Danny shouted, running from behind the bar, but the man’s eyes started rolling like mad while he was choking on his own puke. “Shit,” Clara breathed, sinking down next to him and lifting his upper body. “Someone, call an ambulance -” she shouted, tears evident in her eyes. Danny took out his mobile immediately. “- and someone get down here to support his head,” she continued. She was terrified that he would choke, even though she didn’t know him. “But – he’s vomiting,” one of her friends said with a disgusted expression on her face. “Yeah but you don’t want him to die, do you?!” Clara screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. Danny sunk on his knees and took Malcolm’s head. “They’re on their way,” he said softly, “he’ll be fine.” His reassuring voice made Clara calm down a little. “Does he have a family?” she asked. Danny shook his head, looking down sadly. “They all abandoned him when he was imprisoned for a crime he didn’t even commit, that’s why he has a drinking problem.” Normally Clara hated drunk people, but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the man. She looked down at his ghostly face, which now looked peaceful. His eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open. Her eyes travelled over his body – his chest, rising and falling quickly. Not very healthy, but at least breathing. Dressed in a shirt, the top two buttons undone, full of his own vomit. His belly, too thin for a man his age. His legs, in tight jeans, a bit short for the rest of his body. It made Clara smile a little. “Do you have a wet towel or something?” she asked Danny when she moved her eyes back to Malcolm’s face, noticing the puke in his stubble, “so we can clean him up a little.” Danny stood up and came back a little while later with a bucket full of warm water and a bunch of towels.
As she was wiping Malcolm’s face, Clara heard the sirens of the ambulance. “Finally!” she sighed in relief. Danny ran outside to guide the paramedics inside. Clara hurried out of the way when five men in fluorescent suits kneeled next to Malcolm, tearing open his shirt. His chest looked pale and thin, Clara could see all of his ribs sticking out and it made her uncomfortable. One of the paramedics took out a stethoscope while the other fiddled with an oxygen mask. A third man put something on Malcolm’s finger. “Oxygen in his blood is low,” he muttered to the man who was adjusting the mask on Malcolm’s face. Clara worriedly looked at the scene. She smiled when Danny came standing next to her and took her hand. “Why don’t you just deny him any drinks?” Clara asked carefully, looking at Danny, who chuckled. “Oh, you don’t know him. He can be very unpredictable and very aggressive, he gave me a black eye and a broken nose once because I didn’t want to serve him any more alcohol and told him to leave.” Her eyes widened but Danny merely smiled. “I think he has a tough life.” Clara swallowed “Do you think I can go with him?” she asked softly. He squeezed her hand. “Sure.” Meanwhile the paramedics rummaged around his body and lifted him on a stretcher. “Can I accompany him?” Clara asked the man closest to her. “But, Clara, you don’t even know that man!” one of her friends shouted. She had forgotten that her friends were still there, and the effect of the alcohol had worn off a little. “He doesn’t have a family,” she answered, looking over at them, “I don’t want him to be all alone.” One of the paramedics gestured to follow him and Clara did, stepping into the ambulance after Malcolm on the stretcher. Another paramedic stayed with them in the back of the ambulance.
“What are you going to do to him?” Clara asked carefully. The paramedic looked up from the screens he was fiddling with. “Probably pump his stomach and sending him in therapy. The barkeeper told me it wasn’t the first time he collapsed.” Clara nodded and looked at Malcolm’s ghostlike face. She could tell that if he wouldn’t be so thin he would be a very attractive man. At that moment Malcolm opened his eyes a little. “He’s awake,” Clara whispered to the paramedic, who immediately turned all his attention to Malcolm. “Hello sir.” Malcolm’s eyes widened in shock as he looked around and started shifting like mad on the stretcher. “Stay calm sir,” the paramedic said, “you’re in an ambulance, you drank too much, we’re here to help you.” but Malcolm didn’t stop shifting. “Malcolm,” Clara whispered, standing up and moving closer to him, “you need to rest.” He stopped shifting but his eyes were still full of terror. She moved her hand to his hair and started stroking it softly, until his eyes closed again. “What is your relationship to him?” the paramedic asked. “Oh,” Clara looked around nervously, kneading her fingers “I don’t know him, to be honest. But the barkeeper, Danny, told me he had no family and I didn’t want him to wake up all on his own.” The paramedic smiled, “you’re too good to this world. Anyway, I don’t think his alcohol poisoning is too bad since he woke up in the ambulance, but we took a blood sample in the café and I’ll have it tested anyway.” Clara nodded, not leaving her eyes from Malcolm’s face.