"Sorry..." he said with a low hiss and buried his face in his hands as the doctor moved that wretched ankle.

"Yeah, my baby brother. I .. hadn't seen him when I came to town. For reasons... " he nodded briefly. "Make... make sure you mention that I'm in bad condition so he comes." He finally added, trying to hide a little shame at having to ask his little brother for help.

The notion of a bath had him not. "Sounds good. A bath would be wonderful right now. You don't know the sh-.. the disgusting stuff on me. I will feel better after I'm clean." At least he knew he could fit into uriel's clothes even if they were too big.

Was it his business why the man had not gone to see his brother? No. Was he intrigued? Absolutely.

Tristan got a pretty good idea of the disgusting stuff on Mr. Meijer from the smell of him, though his expression didn't show it. He had dealt with plenty disgusting situations where he had had to pretend nothing was wrong, so as not to further unsettle a patient.

"One moment, then," he said, and he went out and promised a boy in the street a tuppence if he brought back Mr. Uriel Meijer. Then he went to the kitchen and returned to Mr. Meijer with some light soup. He had instructed Pippa to make some when he had gotten the water earlier. "Here, try to eat something while we wait," he said, handing him the bowl. "It's light, but see how your stomach handles that first."

Menachem leaned his head back for a few moments while he waited. While he was in pain and reeked of whatever covered him, he was out of that hole and the only place to go was up, as long as that wretched older brother of his didn't get wind of this. But there was no way, Uriel could keep a secret.

The smell of the soup had him up again and he smiled slightly at the appetizing bowl. "Thanks doc. You're the best." He reached for it and knew he had to be slow but he was so hungry. He took a spoonful, and while the second tempted him, he gave it a moment. He shut his eyes to not look at the food for a few seconds. Finally, he took another. "I'll be slow. Don't worry. " He breathed deeply, feeling relief washed over him. "You saved my life."

Tristan smiled. He doubted he had save the man's life, though he had clearly relieved some of his suffering. "That's my job. Let me clean up that head wound." He went into his office and returned with some cotton pads and a small bottle. A bath would do the man more good, but he would do what the could for the moment.

He glanced up at Mr. Meijer while he applied some disinfectant to the pad. "So what's brought you all to Whitby?

The man almost nodded but winced and stopped immediately. "Still, nice to see there's still some decent people in the world." He muttered as the man left. He might not count himself in that, but he could still judge others all he wanted. He leaned forward and tried some more soup as he waited for the doctor to return, and to let him treat the injury.

The question had him tilt his head confuse. "All of us? I can't speak for the others. I just wander normally, but I came to town cause the guy who proved I was innocent lived here, and I wanted to thank him. After that.." He shrugged. "I should go to separate from that ass, but really no place is better than another."

Who was the ass? The man who had proven him innocent? Innocent regarding what? Or Mr. Zechariah Meijer. The latter sounded more logical, but it was probably too intrusive to ask. Much as he wanted to ask on.

"With two brothers in town it might be easier to settle down," he suggested instead. Then added: "If you could just tilt your head to the right a little."

Menachem had found himself in terrible scenarios, hell he'd been in jail. This was humiliating, his hair slick to his head from things unmentionable and sweat. He closed his eyes and tried to pretend it wasn't so as he tilted his head as the man asked.

He winced a little and then let out a stilted hiss. "Maybe my little brother. Zechariah is a bastard through and through. He'd been a shadow over my life making me miserable since I was a little boy. Don't let that guy trick you into thinking he's nice or high class. He might have money, but he might as well be a monkey in a tux who was taught some tricks. The moment you aren't looking, he'll throw his own shit at you if he even thinks you deserve it for some reason." He said crudely then realized and sighed. "Sorry.. I'm just still angry."

Oh wow... Tristan was all ear. His eyebrows traveled up. He wondered what had caused the rift between the brothers. "That's alright. Family doesn't always get along," he said, trying to sound neutral.

There was little point in cleaning the wound, he realized pretty soon. There was too much filth in this man's hair and that needed to be washed out first, before he could effectively disinfect. But he did not want to humiliate the poor man even further, and so he pretended to clean the wound anyway. "There. I'll have to clean it again after you've washed, to make sure nothing got in." He said. "Let me wash my hands and then we'll wait for your brother. I'll get you some lemonade, to get some sugar in your system." And more liquid. He still worried about dehydration.

Menachem's lip curled a little. "I have been off and on with my other brothers and my sisters. But I've never gotten along with him. He was a bully for as long as I can remember. Don't think age has matured him."

He winced and nodded as the man gave up. "Trust me. Nothing will make me happier than a bath at this moment. And yeah, lemonade sounds pleasant. This soup has done wonders, doc." He took another couple of careful spoonfuls of the soup even as it began to cool, it was one of the best things he'd ever eaten. Though it was probably just because he was starving.

"I hope he can come quickly. I don't know his schedule."

That made perfect sense. Mr. Meijer had seemed like a bully to him. He distinctly remembered the stethoscope incident. He had conveniently forgotten that this had taken place before he had accepted the man's invitation to champagne and possibly getting laid.

"I'm sorry to hear," Tristan said. "I don't know him that well."

So tell me more..., he did not add.

He left and returned with the lemonade and some bread. "Here, try some bread with that soup, if you feel your stomach can take it," he said, as he handed them over. "And don't worry. He has a boy working there at the farm. He seems strong enough to help get you there, if your brother's not there."