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The loud crash from the bathroom sent Ezra out of the kitchen and up the hall quicker than a scalded dog.
He found blood on the floor, the door of the mirrored cabinet swinging open and Vin standing by the heated towel rail looking puzzled.
And with a triangular furrow in the middle of his forehead.
Immediately summing up the situation, for a second Ezra could do nothing but gape.
"You're a federal agent, an eagle-eyed sharpshooter ... you are a goddamn don't-miss-a-thing out-in-the-forest survivalist for crying out loud ... and you walked into a cabinet?"
"It was open," Vin said through his teeth. "Some fuckin' jackass left it open."
"While the blame might fall to me, Mr Tanner, the stupidity is still all yours."
Vin hissed, raised a clumsy hand towards his head and took a staggering step sideways.
Ezra shed his snark as quick as he'd shed his bathrobe ten minutes previously. He took hold of Vin's elbow and guided him towards the chair in the corner. There was no resistance. None at all. Vin had ever been contemptuous of Ezra's penchant for comfort in the bathroom, but Ezra figured he'd be damn grateful for it now.
"Dear Lord," he said. "Where's the estimable Mr Jackson when you need him?"
"Don't you dare fuckin' call him, Ezra. He'll bust my balls about this. I'm fine, I don't need ... holy fuckin' shit that hurt."
"Sit quiet," Ezra said, and his voice was soft. He had a snowy-white face-cloth in one hand and pressed it against Vin's head, sliding the other hand round the back of his neck.
"You're naked, Ez," Vin mumbled. "Kneeling in front of me naked. I don't think I can stand it."
"And why would that be?"
""Cause I feel too fuckin' crap to do anythin' about it. And you look so ... naked."
Vin reached out a hand and laid it on Ezra's bare shoulder. For comfort. It wasn't the kind of thing Vin Tanner did very often. Ezra thought that might almost have been as good as the hours of sweaty sex he'd been hoping for.
He pulled back the wash-cloth, trying not to wince at the sight of all that nasty, staining blood all over that sublime Egyptian cotton. "In a moment I'm going to ask you how many fingers ah'm holding up. And you are not going to tell me to stick them up my ass. You are going to cooperate. Is that cleah?"
Vin sighed. "Fuckin' hurts."
"Yes, and you will have the muthah of all headaches in the morning, and probably for days. You may have to stay here tucked up in my bed while I fend off Mr Larabee."
"Oh fuck."
"Indeed."
"It was your goddamn fault though, Ezra. You'll have to tell him. He can have your ass in a sling."
"I will take it like a man."
"You do do that," Vin said dreamily.
"Now stay where you are, I need to get some first aid supplies."
"Don't go."
Ezra rose to his feet swiftly and turned. A mite too swiftly, perhaps. And certainly way too hard.
"Ow," said Vin with a wince. "Door's still open, huh?"