Allie glanced to where the large man sat at the table, his leg moving nervously, and his face closed off. He really looked like hell warmed over, which was to be expected. But, she smirked, Garin didn't seem to notice that so much. As Isaiah had sat down, Garin's mouth had dropped open. Allie gave him a grin and as she set his eggs on the table before him, she took the opportunity to tap his chin hard enough to make his teeth clack when his jaw snapped closed. 

Garin made a soft sound of distress and had quickly stood and gone to the depths of the kitchen to rummage in the fridge for something cold, no doubt and Allie let her eyes wander over the man again. 

Isaiah was a fine specimen, if one were into pumped so high on steroids that he would need to stay away from sharp tacks so as not to pop. But Garin's and her ideas of male beauty were very different and she had seen enough of his glazed looks after Dwayne Johnson (seriously? The Rock? Could it get any worse than that?) to know just what body type he went for. This Isaiah, sick and broken as he was, was sitting around like meat candy on a stick, all hung out with the towel and looking depressed and morose and in need of rescuing from whatever damsel in distress had been laying waste to his pretty country. 

Allie set a plate of bananas in front of him and then went to the living room, returning rather quickly with a sales bag under her arm. 

“I guessed, but it's better than boxers or a towel,” Allie said and set the bag down next to the man. “You'd best get dressed. You're gonna be cold soon and cold, on top of the crap you got going on, that doesn't sound none too good.” She gave him a small smile, then returned to the stove. Along the way, she gave Garin a nice, hefty shove into the fridge, forcing him to pull himself back out to glare at her. 

Garin looked as if he were drenched in pink. He was always an easy blusher and while she'd never expect him to take advantage of a poor, mountain of a man who obviously needed help, it wasn't like he was blind. Her grin left him angry and the pink only deeper in his skin as he got himself a glass of milk and settled into a chair to drink it. 

Silence, it was. That, in itself was odd, but Allie felt confident in blaming it in Isaiah's lack of dress and Garin's idiocy in not getting the clothes to the poor man in the first place. Garin was a smartie, despite his lack of background in classic literature, but sometimes the easiest of rules would bypass his brain. 

“Want something to drink?” she asked to cut the quiet a bit. “Juice or water. It's important to stay hydrated. It makes it bother you less.” 

~~

Isaiah continued his thousand yard stare, completely oblivious as to what was going on around him. The bananas set in front of him remained untouched, another meal skipped. He let out a grunted as the clothes were set down in front of him. After a moment, he perhaps realized how rude that was and managed a 'thank you'. He lifted his head and took the bag in one arm. Slowly but surely, he got up and began to shuffle off, looking very much like a sore old man. He'd only just made it out of the kitchen when Allie asked if he wanted anything to drink.

"Maybe later," He said as he wandered off to the room he'd been in before. Once he was alone with the door shut, he dropped his towel and dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor. Boxers, sweat pants, t-shirts, nothing fancy. He wasn't used to fancy clothes anyway. Isaiah slowly got dressed. Most of the clothes fit him fairly well, save for the sweat pants, which was an easy fix with a draw string. Once he was decent, he went to lay down on the bed. It was only a few minutes before he realized that he wouldn't be able to nap all this away. 

As soon as he hit the mattress, he was overcome with discomfort. He turned over to try and find a comfortable position, but nothing seemed to work. After rolling around a few times, he gave up, frustrated, and slunk back to the kitchen. When he sat back down, his leg began to bounce, and he tapped his fingernails on the table. He just couldn't seem to sit still. Isaiah felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin; he wanted to be alone, but at the same time, he felt as though he needed the sounds of other people around to keep himself together. What he really needed was a shot of meth. He found himself thinking back to that bottle in the cabinet, but tried to switch his focus to something else. 

The man picked up a banana and became hyper-focused on it, studying each little spot and bump as if he would be tested on it. 

~~

Allie had settled across the table from Garin and the stranger with her own breakfast when Spence wandered in, his jeans low on his hips and his fingers scratching across his “love bump” as he called it. He was solid, in the way a man over fifty was solid – muscles from daily use bound and thickly knotted across his wide frame, and a heavy fur on his chest, peppered with grey. He gave a heavy handed pat on Garin's head which turned into something of a friendly caress in passing then went to get some coffee which Allie had kept available from the beginning. 

Reentering, the older man leaned against the entrance and eyeballed the newbie. “You're up.” 

“His name's Isaiah,” Garin added helpfully, then glanced at their patient. 

Allie said nothing, merely watched Isaiah for a moment, took her last bite, and gathered up her plate to go clean up. “My turn in bed,” she said calmly, dumping the plates into the sink and brushing past Spence. The older man gave her a quick grab and a fatherly kiss on the brow before letting her go, sour look and all, into the back hall where she disappeared from view. 

Neither of the two men said much after Allie had gone. Garin ate slowly and methodically, his usual garrulous behavior dampened by the fact that no one really knew what to make of his guest. Spence wasn't fully woken up, but he seemed comfortable leaning on the door frame and watching Isaiah watch a banana. 

After a while, Garin stood as well and went to do dishes, while Spence entered into the room and settled down at the table so as to get a closer look at the man. 

“Let me be quick about this,” Spence said in a calm, bear deep voice. “Garin found you in the park, not a stitch on outside of your underwear. You're obviously a druggie and you've obviously been through some rough shit. You look like someone pounded the crap out of you right before they dropped you off, but you also look like you gave back as good as you got. Actually, judging from the way your knuckles look a hell of a lot like mine,” he cracked his knuckles and then spread his hands out, the knuckles both raised and flattened from repeated use, “you're probably some kind of fighter. You look like you've been doing the underground circuit, one of those anything-goes shit fighting rings. 

“So I ain't got no problem with that. I get it. Fast cash for a big guy like you. But here's the deal, Isaiah. You get your self clean, you don't create no trouble for my friends, and I'll be your greatest supporter. You fuck with them?” He paused, then grinned, white and broad and menacing, “I'll make sure no one finds your body.” 

~~

Isaiah broke his intent study of the banana when he heard his name. The little guy was introducing him to the bigger one, if he'd heard right, anyway. "Izzy," He piped up. "You can call me Izzy." He wasn't particularly fond of his name; it was a little too Biblical for his tastes. He honestly wasn't sure why he'd given it to them at all; his nickname was what he went by most of the time. He hand gave a slight twitch, and he set the banana back down to look between his company. 

The smaller man wasn't much of a threat. Isaiah figured he could snap the guy's neck in one, good blow. The other guy was a different story. He had a body type that was sometimes referred to as the 'bulldog': not too tall, but muscular. He'd had his ass handed to him a few times buy the like. That was why, when the man sat down closer to him, Isaiah grew tense and seemed to inch away. The man began to talk, and Isaiah wasn't too happy about what he heard. They just thought he was some druggie; that he'd down this all himself! How fucking dare they-

Goddammit; his anger was getting the best of him again. He had to remind himself that it was all the withdrawal; the withdrawal that would have never happened if he wasn't such a spineless sheep. If he'd had the guts to tell his father to go fuck himself and just walk away from it all. He calmed as the man continued to talk, saying something about not causing trouble. Isaiah just hunched over slowly and stared at the man, a restless look in his eyes. What if he fucked something up and this guy turned him in? Or worse. Just what qualified as 'trouble'? He supposed raiding the medicine cabinet would be on there somewhere...maybe if he waited until they were all asleep... No. He couldn't; he couldn't give up that easier. The temporary relief wasn't worth the trouble it would cause him. Morals won once again, this time. 

~~
 At the sound of the dishwasher starting up, Spence placed his hands on the table and stood. “Glad we could have this talk.” He paused, gave Izzy a curious look, then nodded as if somehow, he'd come to some conclusion which he obviously hadn't felt the need to share, as immediately after, he turned about to enter the kitchen. 

Most of the kitchen was visible from the table. All but the sink and some of the fridge was in full view. So Spence turning to help with the last of the clean-up effectively sheltered both he and Garin from view for the moment. However, that didn't last long as Garin took a step back and gave their patient a worried look. 

Garin flushed then went back toward the sink again. The tap turned on and a short moment after, Garin had left the kitchen and set down a large glass of water on the table. 

“I know it seems like we're, you know, pushing liquids. But Allie did some research and the docs said that you were coming off of methamphetamines, for the most part. That and steroids, so she found out you need to stay hydrated. It's supposed to make it easier.” 

He cleared his throat and brushed his hands down his chest nervously. “That and, umm, finding things to take your mind off of it. I gotta fairly large video library. Spence and I were planning on watching a movie once he woke up. We were thinking of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. That's the one with the Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea guy... or was it two thousand?” he furrowed his brow, then gave a shy smile. “Anyway, if that would help, you're welcome to join us. I mean, if it's not your cup of tea, we could probably change it too. Neither of us is picky. Well, except Spence doesn't do chick flicks, so those are out. Everything else is just fine.” 

He might have kept up the rambling, his nervousness obviously ratcheting up with each passing moment of talking to a silent person, but Spence called from the open archway, “He's got it, Gar – let him think about it. Shit.” 

Garin pulled back and looked sidelong toward where Spence must have been in his view. “Yeah.. sorry.” He glanced back at Izzy. “Anyway. Umm.. it's through there. In the living room. There's a couch in there too. Umm, real soft and stuff.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I'm just gonna make popcorn. That kinda thing.” 

~~

Izzy gave Garin the same look he'd given Spencer the whole time he was being spoken to. "Yeah, that sounds fine," He said, finally. His voice was still an almost timid sound. Once he was sure Garin was done explaining...whatever the hell he was talking about, Izzy went back to drumming his fingers on the table. After a minute or so, he got up. 
"I'm gonna' go take a nap," He said. He had zero intentions of napping; he just wanted to get out of there and be alone. Something about being around other people was making him nervous; jumpy.

He hurried off to the bedroom he'd been sleeping in and shut the door. Izzy paced back and forth, stopping and whipping his head towards any little noise he heard. He was beginning to think that half of them weren't really there; it was just his mind screwing with him. It didn't take long for him to get tired, but when he tried to lay down or sit, he would get too antsy. He would end up getting up to pace for a few minutes, then sit for a few minutes, then pace some more. He was miserable. 

By the time a few hours had passed, he found himself sitting on the floor, knees up to his chest. He wanted nothing more than to leave and find himself something, anything, to take the edge off. The cough medicine in the bathroom cabinet was more than tempting, but he knew if he went for it now, he'd get caught. He would have to wait until they were busy with their movie thing; then he'd go for it. 

~~

Allie woke after Spence had gone home for a real shower and some alone time. She stumbled out and the movie was quietly on, playing but not being watched as Garin sat, knees up on the couch, and fingered apart the frayed ends of a quilt he had on the back. She walked past him and to the room where their patient was being kept. 

Isaiah was sitting on the floor in the same sort of holding pose, only without the quiet calm Garin had. Allie let the door close as she went to sit down in front of him, her dark eyes gazing at him closely. 

It had been easier, when she'd known her druggies. This one hadn't asked for help, hadn't asked to leave, hadn't asked for anything – other than he also hadn't done more than say thanks a few times and give them his name, apparently. While she could have cared less about the mystery, both she and Spence weren't about to leave Garin alone with some half crazed, junkie behemoth until they knew more. 

He looked jittery. He looked miserable. Allie sighed and stood. “Get your bedding off and get your ass out there. The least you can do is help.” She looked toward the pull-out he'd been in and then back to him. “You can't sit in here and hope that this is going to go away. You need people. Even if they're a bunch of weirdos like us. Let's go. Up!” 

Hearing voices, Garin had unfolded and he wandered sleepily into the back room, having been up most of the last shift. “Everything all right?” he hazarded as he looked to where Izzy was curled up on the floor. 

“Other than Isaiah here, being all hidey and stuff,” Allie shrugged. “And that is not how we're going to play this.” 

“Oh.” Garin blinked at them both, then gave a half quirk of his mouth that would have been a smile any other time. “M'goin' ta bed.” He turned and stumbled from the room once more. 

~~