TW: VOMIT, GUNS

Jason was used to brawling you. You often drove him absolutely insane. You weren't exactly some kind of mass murderer, you just got on his goddamn nerves.

The two of you had been fighting again. The usual; rushing back and forth between rooftops and alleyways. Nothing appeared off or wrong. You were bruised and battered, as was he.

However, Jason currently had the upper hand. He'd managed to corner you and grab your weapon. You'd lost your close combat weapons and were scrambling for a gun when he'd pulled his own on you, finger hovering over his trigger.

He'd been about to shoot when you'd put your hand out, frantically murmuring a plea to wait. Jason raised a cautious eyebrow, his eyes widening slightly as you dropped down and keeled over to the side, throwing up.

“Jesus,” He muttered, his eyes widened some more as he scanned you. You didn't look particularly pale. He took a deep breath and grimaced slightly, “Morning sickness?”

Jason was not built for consoling hormonal and pregnant people.

As you nodded a little, wiping your face, he let out a soft sigh and slumped down next to you. Jason noticed that you tensed up a bit and shrugged, “I'm not going to fight you. I've hurt you enough.”

Jason would never consider himself a virtuous guy. No, that was for the big bad Bat. However, continuing to beat up a pregnant person was a bit put out, even for him. He wanted to lecture you, even if that wasn’t really his style; tell you that you should’ve mentioned it. He had no right. You were just some villain.

How long had you been pregnant, though? Didn’t you know it was dangerous to commit crimes while pregnant?