Steve's standing over the kitchen counter, wielding a knife in hand as he finishes cutting up some fresh pineapple - but when the door bursts open like that, it takes every amount of control not to give into the reflex to flip the knife around in his hand, to go into a combative stance with fruit still dripping from the blade.

The knife clatters down on the cutting board as he rushes over to Danny, face immediately paling to match, and he reaches out, putting a hand down over Danny's abdomen, over the source of the bleeding. "Come on," he says, his voice soft but directing. "We need to get you sitting, get your heart rate down. Just breathe, come on, sit down." He practically knocks a chair over in his haste to drag it across the floor.