One of his attackers started for him again, spitting blood onto the grimy ground. Just before he reached Daniel, however, a large hand landed on the man’s shoulder, fingers squeezing hard. The man let out a howl of pain, twisted, and ran. His companion took off behind him, both of them running like their asses were on fire.

"Hey, man. Hey, you okay? Need a doctor?"

Groggily, Daniel got on his feet. As he started to sway, he grabbed to the end of the dumpster, his other fist swung wildly trying to connect with anybody nearby.

"Whoa!" That same hand gripped his wrist, gentle despite the sheer size of it. "Take it easy. I’m not gonna hurt you."

Wheezing in a breath, Daniel wasn’t listening to anybody. Letting go of the dumpster, his other hand swung around as he tried to jerk back to free himself. "Fucking let go, you asshole!"

The man let go of him without argument. Stepping back, he stared down at Daniel, arms crossed over a muscular chest. "The assholes are gone," he said.

Stumbling back, Daniel landed hard on his ass in the dirt near the dumpster. It took him a moment to gather his scrambled thoughts and try to haul himself up, using the dumpster for support.

The man sighed, but he didn’t move. Once Daniel was back on his feet, the man said, "You don’t look too good, man. At least let me get you somewhere so you can clean up."

Eye already swollen shut and turning black and blue, Daniel could only see out of one eye. "Who are you?" He didn’t remember this guy being one of the two who’d attacked him. When he finally stopped swaying back and forth, he took an experimental step forward, letting go of the dumpster.

"Karl Johnson. Whoa, easy there…" The man caught Daniel before Daniel could fall again. "Take it slow. Little bit at a time, man." A finger slipped under Daniel’s chin, tilting his head up just a little so the man could see his face. "You need a doctor."

Completely alarmed, Daniel wildly shook his head and immediately had to stop. "Shit. It hurts. No doctor. I don’t need a doctor. I’m fine."

"Oookay…then how about we get you someplace where you can clean up?"

Brushing Karl’s hand away, Daniel took several steps towards the street. Muttering to himself, he looked down one side of the sidewalk towards the bar. "Can’t go home like this. He’ll kill me."

"What? Who?" Karl stepped up beside him, staying close to Daniel, looking like a personal bodyguard more than a stranger he’d just met.

Surprised the man followed him, Daniel’s one good eye blinked. "My dad sees me like this he’ll go ape shit."

Looking down at his shirt, he noticed the filth and rips for the first time. His hand wiped at the tickling trail of blood from his lip, and that hurt too. "I don’t want to see myself in a mirror, do I?"

Karl chuckled, the sound easy and deep. "No, you really don’t. Look, why don’t you come to my place? I live about a block down, in Arlington Towers. You can clean up there. I’ll loan you a shirt. Besides, it’s safe."

"Karl, right?" As they walked down the sidewalk, a few shocked glances came his way from passing strangers, but the majority seem to studiously ignore him.

"Yeah, Karl Johnson." Karl held out his hand in offering. "And you?"

"Daniel Scott." The smile Daniel tried to give him was a twisted, pained twitch of his lips as he carefully shook his hand. "Yeah, I guess I need to clean off."