Summary: Alfred is a homeless person and Ivan is middle class teenager whose heart is too big for his own good but a big heart nonetheless. He takes him in after a few unfortunate events take place. One of them being a broken body part.

He had taken up this habit recently to people-watch on the upcoming days before Christmas. People swished in and out of stores and, as each hour was chewed up by the big clock mall, their movements became more and more panicked in nature. Sometimes they would come out of a store empty handed to notice that the sky was darkening outside and make the most shocked faces before speeding off to a different store that might harbor the 'perfect gift'.

Others who came in knowing what they would be getting already had both arms heavy with colorful shopping bags. They were obvious in a crowd and moved lazily- sometimes stopping for a bite to eat. Most of those were just lingering about. Not very interesting at all.

"Oh, hey Ivan!" He wasn't expecting anybody to meet him here. When he turned his head he saw one of his classmates-who he really didn't talk to often-wave him over. Her entire body was flailing in her excitement. What was her name again? "Merry Christmas Eve!" The girl practically tackled him with the amount of force in her hug and he nearly fell over before regaining his balance and prying off the jumping teen. He held her a few inches above the ground as she started spouting nonsense.

"What do you think I should get my brother, Romano, for Christmas? I know he loves tomatoes so I got him this tomato clock but I don't think it's enough really… Oh! He likes pizza! But I can't just wrap a pizza for him that would be weird and it would smell bad before he could eat it and he might yell at me. Ivan, you're a boy! What would you want for Christmas?"

Ah, he remembered her name now. Felicita the Italian girl. She spoke a mile a minute; it was amazing that she was still getting air to her lungs.

"I don't think we have enough in common for our Christmas lists to be similar at all, sorry Felicita." His lips pressed into a small frown, then he shrugged. "But, Christmas isn't just about presents. It's about spending time with family and sometimes friends." Ivan smiled down at her and clasped his hands behind his back as he finally dropped her.

"That was really corny, Ivan!" His face dropped at that and Felicita squeaked. "I mean, you're so smart! You're such a smart guy, Ivan!" Felicita started flapping her arms nervously and laughing nervously. Then her eyes shot open like Christmas headlights.

"IKNOWWHATTOGETROMANO!" She screamed in giddiness and excitement. She whipped out her phone-which had a pasta-themed case, of course- and scrolled through her contacts before calling the phone pressed to her head.

"Antonio! You should come over for Christmas! Huh? Oh, you're already celebrating it with your family… You should bring everybody! I'm sure Grandpa Roma won't mind! OK! Ciao~!" She put away her phone looking happier than ever-if that were even possible- and beamed up at Ivan. "Grazi, Ivan, I knew I could count on you! Ciao, Ciao!" A whirlwind whipped past him and Felicita was gone like a candle flame.

Huh. That was different. He tried to imagine a tomato clock suddenly. Imagine, Romano tries to hit the snooze button and he squashes the tomato clock. It's life blood shatters and is spattered all along the walls and his murderous hand. Ivan made a strange face at that; his vivid imagination always took him to weird places it seemed.

Well, he should probably head home before it got too dark. The streetlamps had already been turned on and the brightest stars were out-only the ones that could outshine the city though. He shivered as the cold bit at his skin even under his winter clothing. Just like the feather-fat pigeons that were waddling around, he too stuffed his face into the soft down of his pink, floral scarf. The lower half of his face warmed up instantly as he breathed out; only half regretting it when a passing car chilled him once more.

He was glad that he chose to walk. The streets were so clogged with last minute shoppers and people running to meet with family that the traffic would have driven him crazy. If there was anything that he hated it was definitely traffic- and New York traffic was the worst. It was like trying to stuff a giant watermelon down a toilet. Not going to happen. That was some weird imagery. He'd imagine himself panicking as the water slowly overflowed and weird things other than watermelon chunks exploded out of the shaking porcelain pony.

A physical shudder ran through him and he paused in his walking to shake his head- that was horrible, the most disturbing image yet. Brief moments of reflection were considered. Why was his imagination so uncalled for? He stumbled to the side as he was harshly shoved by a hurried shopper and stepped on something that rolled and crunched under his heavy snow boots. His blood ran cold when he heard a loud cry under him. Sorrys were already streaming from his lips before he saw who he'd stepped on.

"Oh my gosh, sir! I'm so sorry! Are you ok?" His voice became high and sharp as he saw the vagabond's hand. His fingers didn't look straight.

He heard the vagabond hiss in pain as he cradled his injured hand to his stomach. "Dude, I'm fine." A pained chuckle reached his ears and Ivan frowned deeply. He didn't look or feel very convinced by this odd stranger at all. The deadpan expression on his face didn't change when the stranger looked up at him from under his worn hoodie and gave a weak smile. Full, deep blue eyes that shined met his and what surprised him the most was how young the stranger looked. Probably no older than him, yet he was out on the streets like the other individuals who were cheated by life and chose to either beg for a fresh start or, rot in city-torn sneakers, weather-whipped clothing. He was pulled out of his stupor by the blue-eyed boy tugging on his winter coat.

"Actually, um, dude do you have a band aid? I think I'm bleeding and it kind of hurts. Sorry." The boy's lips quirked upwardly uncertainly at him and- BLOOD?

"No, it's my fault. Don't say sorry. I-I don't have a band aid but-my house? - My house. I have some in my house and it's not too far away. Can you- I can walk you there." Ivan's thought became strange blurbs and jumbles as he saw the blood oozing out of the guy's hand. And oh my gosh, I broke his hand!

"Here let me help you up." Ivan leaned over him and hooked his arms under the stranger's armpits, hefting him up off the cold, hard- and probably filthy- concrete sidewalk. At his full height, the stranger came up a good amount of inches shorter than Ivan.

"Thanks, dude. I guess I'll take you up on that offer." The shorter boy shrugged and winced as he jostled his wounded hand a bit.

"So, where to?"

"Just a few more blocks." Ivan replied back casually. It didn't once register inside his mind that he was bringing a vagabond back home or, that the boy could be dangerous at all. They were on their merry way just like that. Nothing unusual about it at all- except maybe the broken hand bit. That was out of place. Little snippets of actual conversation were passed between them. Most of their walk was just silence. Peaceful in nature but stunted somehow.

"Sooo… What's your name?" The blue-eyed stranger's inquisitive voice brought him out of his musings so suddenly that he stopped in his tracks. Ivan's eyebrows furrowed together and he stood up straight before pointing to himself slowly.

"Me?" He didn't realize how stupid the question was before the weird silence settled in. No wonder they called him the stupid Braginski kid.

The stranger only chuckled heartily and nodded slowly and encouragingly.

"Yes, you." He replied after he stopped chuckling. Ivan blushed a bit and hid his face in his scarf when he felt that tell-tale burn.

"Braginski kid. I-I mean." He stuck his tongue out and shook his head again. The strange boy laughed. "Ivan. I meant Ivan…Braginski?"

"So is your name Ivan Braginski or not? You don't have to make up names ya know." Oh, no he offended the guy. Or was he just messing with him? Ivan couldn't really tell.

"Yes. That's my name." Formal approach. Can't go wrong there. Good job, Braginski. He mentally slapped himself and patted himself on the back at the same time.

"Cool name! You don't hear that one very often. My name's Alfred. Alfred F. Jones. You want to hear something funny? I still haven't figured out what the 'F' stands for, isn't that weird?" For some reason Alfred seemed giddy at the prospect of not knowing his own middle name and Ivan kind of smiled at that. How odd. Suddenly they stopped walking.

Oh, oh no. Oh, no Ivan suddenly felt very distressed. He looked at his surroundings. None of the buildings were very recognizable. He looked at his companion; his panic slowly rising when he saw the hand still leaking blood though it was slower than before. How am I supposed to tell him that I'm lost? Don't tell him.

"Ah, one second I have to call somebody." Ivan's smile became strained as Alfred looking at him questioningly. Don't doo that.

"Alright, buddy. I'll just stand over here." He stood off to the side and leaned against the brick wall of one of the shops.

Ivan quickly fumbled for his phone in his coat pocket and dialed the first person that he could think of. The calling tone rang a few times. His anxiety heightened as it reached the fifth ring before the sound of something picking up reached his ears and he nearly melted in relief.

"Katyusha?" He called out.

"What is it, Vanya?" A sweet yet worried voice asked.

"Can you pick me up? I can't remember what part of the city I'm in." He felt himself being calmed just by listening to his older sister. "I'm at the corner of Elms and Martin, do you know where that is?"

"That's actually close to where I work. They'll be closing up soon. I'll ask to leave early ok? Stay put, love you." She hung up and he let out a breath before walking over to his friend. He had pulled his hood off his head to reveal a mop of messy wheat colored hair. It looked like he hadn't taken a proper shower in a while by the grease and minimal matting.

"My sister will be picking us up in a few minutes, so we'll wait here. Is that ok?" Alfred grinned at him mischievously; giving him a knowing look. I think he knows.

"I thought we were gonna walk?" He definitely knows. "But, I don't mind. My legs are kind of tired anyway." He kept grinning at Ivan, who had the most troubled look on his face. Priceless. Ivan ended up just looking at his phone clicking a few buttons when the light would dim down. It had already been 15 minutes. Weird shadows that he didn't notice before were slapped on the ground and on tall buildings. Cast by the old streetlights whose lights were probably on their last leg.

Finally, a small dark-blue, two-door car rolled up next to where they stood and the window rolled down revealing the round face and short pinned-back hair of his heavily-endowed older sister. She waved them in.

"Get in Vanya, it's a green light!" She hollered. Quickly Ivan ran to the car with Alfred in tow. They jumped in, closing the doors and Katyusha made a speedy U-turn to start in the direction of their house. It was silent for a while so a popular radio station was chosen to lessen the awkward atmosphere. Ivan felt eyes on his and looked into the rear view mirror where Katyusha was peering at him then his new friend confusedly. She looked surprised when she realized that she had been caught and tried to make up for it in conversation.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Vanya?" He was about to speak up when Alfred cut in for him.

"My name's Alfred!" He beamed. "Alfred F. Jones." He finished before starting up again like a revved up engine. "What's your name? I don't want to refer to you as just 'Ivan's sister' you know?"

"Yekaterina Braginski. But most people just call me Kat." She smiled warmly at him through the rear view mirror.

"Nice to meet you, Kat!" The rest of the ride was nicer-tranquil even with the car warming up slowly. After a while, Ivan was nearly sweating with his winter coat on but was too reluctant to take it off. He was glad when they made it to the driveway. He stretched and sighed as he got out, the cold air cooling him. Steam was coming off of him in barely noticeable wisps. He loved the change in temperature.

His guest had already gotten himself out and was staring in awe at his house. "Wow! I like the Christmas lights! I can't believe you have an actual house! Your grass is so green! I can't believe it. Are you rich? Oh my gosh. I just realized that you have a driveway! " Alfred turned to him with eyes wide and sparkling; his mouth was stretched open in a wide grin and his good hand was buzzing around sporadically.

The house was two-stories high with weathered brick walls, a rarity in New York. Ivan's family was pretty well off, but by no modern definition were they rich. The driveway was only long and wide enough to support two cars, if squeezed together. There was a long though, not necessarily wide, strip of lush green grass out front. Their house did stand out compared to the rest of the neighborhood, but it was very old and had been in the family for a long time. Oh, Natalya must've put up the Christmas lights with father.

Ivan smiled warmly at his excitable friend "Come on let's get inside."

The warmth of the small house felt nice like a subtle glaze on their winter-chilled skin. Ivan sighed as he enjoyed it briefly before taking off his large boots and retreating to the kitchen to get the first aid kit and some anti-bacterial wash underneath the sink. He also took a plastic bowl from one of the cabinets on a second thought.

Alfred was awkwardly waiting next to the futon in the tiny living room by himself. He had taken off his ragtag hoodie and dirty sneakers and he was just kind of teetering uncertainly next to the small futon that served as a couch. Ivan seated himself on the fuzzy brown futon and Alfred took that as a green light for him to sit down too. He plopped right down without so much as a verbal invitation and smiled sheepishly. Ivan set the supplies down on the coffee table.

"Can I see your hand?" Alfred nodded in reply and gave him his right hand. It didn't look quite as bad as he thought it was but there was still a large cut on it as well as a few scrapes on one side. His index finger looked out of place however, jutting out at a strange angle, and Ivan worried his lip in concern. Even Alfred's smile was snuffed out like dirt on fire when he saw the damage under the light of the living room.

"I..don't think it's broken." His blonde companion let out a sigh at that. "But,"

"But what?" Alfred asked fearfully.

Ivan began looking guilty. "I think you should go to the hospital." Alfred seized up and pulled away his hand.

"Umm, hahaha…" He started laughing nervously. His eyes had shrunken in on themselves. "No, no thanks, man. I hate hospitals and I don't have the money anyways." The good hand went to scratch the back of his head.

"I can pay, if you'd like. It's my fault anyways." Ivan suggested. He looked even guiltier than before

"No thanks. Really. I hate hospitals. 'Sides, can't you just pop it back into place?"

"…Yes. I think so. I think my father would probably be able too. Let me just wrap you up first. He doesn't get home until later."

And so, Ivan poured some of the disinfectant into the plastic bowl. He motioned for Alfred's hand expecting him to come forward. When he didn't he turned around, eyebrows raising at the sight.

Alfred had backed himself up into the armrest and was holding his arm closely to his chest. Continuous chants of 'no, no no, nope,nop,no,no,no,nope,nope,nope' were streaming out of his open mouth like water. It was nearly comical how wide his eyes had gotten and he was nearly shaking.

"Alfred." He shook his head. His blonde hair flapping everywhere. "Alfred, put your hand in the disinfectant. It'll get infected if you don't." Ivan sighed as the teen hissed at him.

"No, I know what you're trying to do. I may be poor but I'm no idiot!" Alfred barked. "I'm an adult. You can't make me."

Drastic times calls for drastic measures. "I'll kick you out of my house if you won't do it." He smiled evilly as his words got the desired effect. Alfred sat up and gave the most pitiful puppy-dog eyes.

"Would you really?" His lower lip quivered. For a homeless man he sure was charismatic. When Ivan seemed unmoved by his display he dropped it entirely. "Ok, fine." He quickly submerged his hand in the water. Cheeks bulging out with air and eyes watering because PAIN.

"OOOWWW!" He howled out before hissing through his teeth. "It buuurrrrnnnssss!"

Ivan became so panicked that he nearly launched off the couch.

"You're not supposed to just stick it in there!" Ivan yelled.

Alfred looked at him red faced and with tears brimming in his eyes. His hand was foaming a bit. "I thought it would feel better that way! Ivan, it hurts a lot. Help me." He squeaked.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Can you dance?"

"What?"

"I want dancing." Alfred was smiling again. "Please?" Those doe eyes again. Who is this guy?

"No." His entire facial expression sagged. "I think you can take your hand out now."

He took his disinfected hand out of the vat of medical juice but, kept it hovering over the bowl so he wouldn't get droplet everywhere. Ivan sat down on his knees to get the bandages, using the safety scissors to cut off a nice length. He wrapped it carefully. Over and under. Through the gap between the forefinger and thumb until he ran out and pressed it shut.

"Thanks." Alfred got up then. "It was nice meeting you." He was about to make his way out before something stopped him.

"You can stay." Ivan blurted out. "You're finger isn't in the right place yet! No, you have to stay. Sit down." He commanded patting down the spot next to him. "Wait, actually. I think you should take a shower. I think you would like one, da? Right, let me show you the way."

The bathroom was small- only large enough to accommodate a shower, sink and toilet. Ivan went ahead to show him how to work it. "You turn the knob up to get it started. Left for colder and right for warmer. Ok?" He went to leave before something began poking him urgently on the shoulder. Alfred had his finger stuck up and his mouth poised for speech.

"I don't have any other clothes."

"You can use mine. Go take a shower." Alfred gawked and his finger drooped in response. Ivan looked at him with his one eyebrow raised.

"Is there anything else you need? If not, you are welcome to take that shower now." Ivan smiled pleasantly once more, his body half-way out the door. "Nyet? No? Ok!" He shut the door with finality leaving his gawking friend to himself.