"I know you don't." Hartley stopped by his door and unlocked it, then pushed it open to let them into the small and dingy room. There wasn't much of anything, really, but it was a lot better than what he could afford if he hadn't found a way to make his talents pay. He had a small fridge, a kitchenette, even the world's tiniest bathroom. There was a mattress on the floor, but mostly there was a desk full of his gadgets, tools and projects and books that he'd pretty obviously gotten in various sales. "It's not exactly worth being stabbed for. Sorry."

Hartley didn't hesitate with leading James to the mattress, letting him down carefully. "Lay down, yes? I'll take care of you."