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"You're an idiot."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
The usually well-composed Steven A. Starphase leaned heavily on the shorter man, arm slung over his shoulder and face a grimacing mask of pain. The way he limped suggested he'd spent the day walking barefoot on glass, and judging by the blood left in each footprint behind him, that could've easily been the case. Daniel didn't have to be a detective to understand why; he'd seen the man raise ice taller than some buildings not an hour earlier, decimating a hoard of green-skinned goons that had taken a liking to playing with guns. They were a stubborn lot, but of course that was never a problem for a member of Libra.
That is, until Daniel had seen him trying to limp away in the aftermath, looking like he was seconds from collapsing. A complete idiot, trailing blood behind him but trying to convince the lieutenant that he was fine.
His apartment was closest, so they opted to go there. Daniel had a fair amount of first aid supplies anyway, thanks to his own stubborn dislike of hospitals. Steven would've called him hypocritical at another point in time, but for now he focused on the fruitless attempt to keep weight off of either of his feet. A terribly unlucky man he was of course, as he stared wearily up the stairs (three floors, three sets of stairs, thirty-six steps) and wished desperately that the lieutenant would move to a complex with a working elevator.
"Perhaps I should stay here...at the bottom of the stairs...I'm feeling much better already, you know..."
His voice was weak and tired, the least convincing he'd ever been. Daniel gave him a curled lip and a scoff, loosening his tie and letting out a noisy grunt as he scooped up the ridiculously tall man bridal style, swearing partly at the weight and partly at the legs that still dangled so long. Goddamn long-legged nightmare Steven Starphase. "I needed the exercise anyway. Don't wiggle too much, Starphase." Steven could only nod, tired guilt mixed with relief obvious on his face as he wrapped his arms around the broad man's shoulders and did his best not to drip blood from his dangling feet.
"You're a lot stronger than you look, Lieutenant."
"You're a lot lighter than y'look, do you ever even eat?"
He laughed lightly in response, though he didn't answer, of course.
Three flights of stairs left even the great Daniel Law winded, but it was the fact that his keys was in his back pocket that made him set Steven down for a brief moment to clumsily fiddle with the three separate locks (two he'd installed himself) on the once white door. But as soon as it was opened he picked the man up again, grumbling about not wanting bloody footprints on his carpet as he carried him to the living room, kicking aside clothes and old work folders before setting him on the couch and tossing his trenchcoat and blazer to the side.
"Feet stay on the coffee table until I get some towels."
Steven nodded and propped himself up, slipping out of his blazer and tie with a weary sigh as he watched the lieutenant disappear into the tiny bathroom and return with a freshly lit cigarette and a first aid kit that seemed more battered than he was. The towel slung over his shoulder quickly went under Steven's feet, sopping up the already evident drippings of blood from the crosses on his soles. Daniel pulled a short stack of books under himself as he sat in front of the man, patting his knee like he was planning to give a free shoe shine. "C'mon, we gotta get those damn shoes off."
The sound that came out of Steven's mouth as the shoes came off was a mixture of a pained groan and a sigh of relief. Blood had long since turned the blue argyle socks a nasty blackish-brown that left Daniel grimacing as he peeled those from the man's feet as well, a curse coming from his lips as he finally saw the state of the man's feet.
"Fucking Christ, Steven."
He'd always known the man to be reckless, and of course Steven had given vague explanations to his powers at several points in time. Blood must be present, drawn fresh from the skin. But he'd never imagined the mess before him, mottled blue and purple bruises blooming from around the puncture marks, the entire sole of his foot stained red on top of that and knotted scars over scars from years and years of using his terrible powers. Compared to the smooth, clear skin that covered the rest of him, Steven's feet were just a bit frightening.
But the weary, sheepish, and sad look that he got from the man told him that complaining about the state he was in would be preaching to the choir. They all did reckless but necessary things in a city like this, and the usually flawless Steven Starphase was no exception. So Daniel merely sighed and mopped up what blood he could with a dry towel before realizing he'd need more than that for this mess of a man.
He didn't tell him to wait, but Steven was patient as the man disappeared to the bathroom again, returning this time with a few wet washcloths and his sleeves properly rolled up. There'd be no arguing at this point, no suggestions even that really, he was fine, this was normal and he could take care of it himself. Daniel's touch was firm but gentle against the tender wounds, and his eyes shared the sentiment as he wiped the blood from his feet. Cigarette smoke streamed from between his teeth as he sighed, but beyond that and the ticking clock on the wall, the room was silent.
Daniel hated silence.
"So d'you get frostbite doing this kinda thing?"
Steven took a moment to respond, as Daniel had pressed a stinging alcohol pad to one of the many punctures and drawn a wince from him. "Hah...occasionally...I nearly lost a toe just after the collapse..." His feet curled uncomfortably at the fresh pain, but a firm grip on his ankle kept him from fidgeting too much. "I've got a higher tolerance, it seems. Comes with the work..."
The lieutenant gave a short nod, flashing a glance up at the man before wrapping a few strips of gauze around each foot. It was the best he could do, the wounds nothing like those he'd grown used to as a policeman. But it was clean, and it was comforting, and Steven sighed long and tired as he rubbed his tired eyes. "I don't suppose you'll let me walk home like this, will you Daniel?"
He snorted in response and shook his head, grunting as he got to his feet and wiped the blood from his hands. "Not on your life, Starphase. The only way I know you aren't gonna fuck yourself over a second time is if I keep an eye on you."
"Oh, always so sensitive aren't you."
"Shut the fuck up."
Steven didn't expect to be scooped up a third time, but apparently Daniel did have a romantic (or perhaps just pitying) bone in his body, carrying him to the sad excuse for a bedroom and setting him down on the stiff mattress he called home. He grumbled under his breath as he did his best to prop the man's feet up with thin blankets, scowling when he saw him smiling. "Don't even think about making a habit out of this. I need that kit for shit besides patching up these sad feet of yours." The way he moved his hand nearly made Steven wince, but his touch was gentle, thumb brushing over the side of his foot slowly. "I'll kill you myself if I ever have to drag you out of some gutter because of this bullshit..."
There was a pause between them as the weight of his words sunk in, but Steven could only respond with a softer, eye crinkling smile and a hand gesturing for him to come lie down. Daniel scowled but didn't refuse, kicking his shoes off and crawling into bed with him with his arms protectively set around the man's waist. Steven's own arms wrapped around him gently and combed through the short hair at the nape of his neck, humming under his breath at the comforting weight of the man with him.
"Thank you, Daniel."
"Shut up and go to sleep. I've got work in the morning."
"Yes sir. Goodnight Daniel."
The shorter man huffed just a bit, shifting to rest his head against the other's shoulder.
"G'night, Steven."