Charlie was rapidly growing resigned to the fate that had laid out for him here. It wasn't as though they would kill him, at least he didn't think so, but they had the potential to do quite a bit of damage if no intervention was taken. On his own he simply wasn't strong enough to fight them off; he doubted he'd have the manpower to outdo even one of the teenagers that were bearing down on him, and so he more or less stopped struggling. Within a matter of seconds after he went limp, though, allowing the children to begin manipulating his body at will whilst he stood with his eyes squeezed shut tightly, he heard a voice. It was soft, but at the same time it held a spine-tingling amount of power within it. He opened his eyes slowly and lifted his head, beginning again to struggle back against the group of boys.<br/><br/>He couldn't with hold a sharp gasp as he watched the pair of them bash heads, he almost felt the throbbing pain within his own skull just from witnessing the event. His mind immediately jumped to wondering who the hell this man was, and why he would bother helping him. As the boys had stated, a majority of the people that lived and worked on this particular block were not fond of Charlie. He was considered by many to be a nuisance, but the city didn't have to power to remove him, seeing as he was technically residing on open access public property. So, he was “technically” safe from harm or removal where he was, but that didn’t mean that the city and the local police department wouldn’t look the other way were something to happen to him. In fact, he’d be willing to bet quite a bit that if he suddenly turned up dead, or simply disappeared, not a single eyelash would be batted, nor a single investigation launched. It wasn’t a particularly fair set of circumstances, but it was simply the way things were, and he couldn’t even blame the citizens of Chicago for it, he knew it himself. If he had a way to get off the streets and support himself without putting others at risk he gladly would, but he was fully aware that that wasn’t the case, nor would it ever be.<br/><br/>But this man, for one reason or another, was defending him, and Charlie was rather perplexed. He stumbled backwards as the kids suddenly released him and he leaned against the brick wall at his back for support, looking up at the much larger individual with widened eyes. He swallowed hard as he began to speak, questioning on his wellbeing, and he cleared his throat as he slowly stood up straight again, subconsciously trying his hardest to make himself appear taller. He was used to being called a kid, of course, but something inside of him was constantly desperate to counter that label. “I, uh… I should be okay, yeah. Just need to tend to my face, is all,” he murmured. The coffee had had some time to cool, thankfully, but the skin on his face was still scalded and bright red from the irritation, it was obvious that parts of it would blister and that the skin would slough off in time, which could certainly lead to an infection if not properly cared for. What really concerned him more, if he was honest, was the fact that his clothes were soaking wet and that night was approaching rapidly; he should have a change of clothes somewhere, but it was already getting cold and his body was already starting to shiver reflexively. It didn’t look good for Charlie…. But then, this gentleman, this stranger, suddenly offered him a change of clothes.<br/><br/>The boy’s brow knitted together slightly at the offer, and his lips parted just a bit, but he slowly nodded anyways. “If you do, that’d be… That’d be just wonderful,” he said gratefully, nodding his head slowly as he wound his arms tightly about himself. He then fell in line behind the other as he turned and began walking back towards his car. He followed him to the vehicle quietly, watching as he opened up the trunk and began rifling through his things. Charlie knew that even if the man didn’t find anything, he’d need to get out of the wet shirt as quickly as possible, so he carefully stripped off the gray t-shirt, though it made him more than mildly uncomfortable to bare his incredibly mottled torso to anybody, especially a total stranger. Aside from the shocking scarring along his body the young man had other qualities that made him look utterly broken and pitiful, though the most visible one was the way each of his bones protruded from his body. Each of his ribs could be easily counted from the front or the back of him, his collarbones jutted out at uncomfortable angles, his hipbones protruded rather disgustingly. His face was gaunt enough, but when one saw his body they’d realize he was little more than a walking skeleton, and he hoped that Valentin didn’t have as visceral a reaction to his appearance as others had in the past.