She didn't even notice when she got hurt. She noticed it much later, when the trail of blood was so long it reached her foot. At first she didn't even think to stop and clean it up, but then she thought of her mother and the fit she would go through if the blood reached any of her furniture. She stepped by the island and sit on a stool, placing her leg up on the island in an almost impossible angle so she could look at the cut in the back side of her thigh.

"Damn razor," she whispered to herself as she observed the deep cut. It was so deep it reminded her of one her earlier foster sisters who used to cut her-self, not even bothering to hide it from little Emma.

"Oh, princess, what did you do?"

She turned her head over her shoulder to see her father standing be the table, shopping bags still in hand.

"I'm fine," she said automatically, defensively, probably too fast for his liking. She was still not used to the variety of nicknames her parents came up with, and what with being surprised by him, she was having a hard time keeping her emotional walls down.

"I don't think you are," he stated. He put the shopping bags on the counter and grabbed a towel. He dipped its tip in water and got closer to her.

"Dad, I'm fi—" she jumped under the cold touch of the towel as he traced the blood from her foot up until the only red spot left was on her cut itself.

"What's it from?" he asked, ignoring her protests. He pressed the towel to her cut in hopes of stopping it from bleeding.

"My razor," she said weakly. "I've had worse, you really shouldn't worry about it".

The look he gave her showed her that was exactly what he was worried about. "I'm not doing anything," he reassured her. "I'm just stopping the blood so we can put a band aid on it".

She watched as he pushed gently, careful not to hurt her. But she was not ready to give up just yet. "Dad—" she started again.

"Are you going to keep arguing with me?" he asked in a sharp voice, giving her a stern look she knew meant 'don't even think about it'.

"But—" she started, just as stubborn as he was, she knew.

"Another but and I'm taking you to the hospital. I bet they could take better care of this. Maybe even give you a tetanus shot, just in case".

His eyes dug into hers as he watched her wince.

"Fine".

He put a band aid over the cut and gently pressed his lips to it. When he raised his head again, he gave her a content smile.

"There, all better now".

"I can't believe you just kissed it better," she said with a smirk.

"Says the girl who didn't shut up until I threatened with a shot," he sent her a smirk identical to hers.

She knew she was bluching, so she sent him her best smile.

"I swear some-times I have no idea how to deal with you, Dad," she whispered.

"Me too, kiddo. Me too".