Venti curled in beside his charge, his normal chatter silenced even as the door closed. The stairwell had little light and there were two entrances, two exits, both the same. Little maneuverability and a man with a bum leg made it a situation which he wasn't entirely certain he could be comfortable with. 

His mind racing with the various tasks he generally gave it, he almost missed the shift in weight as James stepped and something panged. His balance just slightly off, he caught himself handily and obviously needed no extra help, more than likely would not have accepted help even if offered, and simultaneously alarmed the care-taker part of the boy following him, so that Venti crowded behind him by one step down and braced himself with taking firm hole of the opposite hand holds in the case should James' leg not manage to make it to the top of the steep, rickety stair. 

Make it they did, however. Venti could feel the warmth of the older man before him, close enough was he, and he breathed a sigh of relief in counterpoint to James' almost inaudible sigh of relief that he'd no longer have to climb. It had to have pained him enough to annoy, but he'd made no move to complain the entire while. Feeling he had a satisfactory bead on his employer's son, Venti supposed it wasn't so much due to James not feeling much pain, but far more the fact that James wouldn't tell Venti had he felt anything short of something that brought him to the ground. 

“Hold on,” Venti's voice cut the quiet at the top landing. “I ask that you just allow me first look.” He hadn't waited for James to accept his offer, but instead had slipped his thin body around James' and popped into the hallway behind before James had an opportunity to do so. The boy did nothing to stop the man from following him, but he did take a few steps further ahead before glancing around his shoulder at where the investigator was, ascertaining that the man truly did not need any help, nor did he seem to want it overly much. 

With a grin, Venti carelessly lifted one shoulder. “Habits of the job. I gotta do things first, we all do. Or we're not doing what we're paid to do. Now, which room?” he glanced down the hallway.