"Don't," Marcus says, and swipes blood off Midnighter's lower lip with his thumb, businesslike and unsqueamish. There's a bit of real snappishness in his tone, concern coming out as annoyance, but most of what's in his eyes is worry and fondness.

He nods, though he grimaces. "Yeah. Anything to impress you, huh? When you're ready. I'm guessing infection ain't a thing you have to worry about."