Jason tensed up, the antiseptic stinging his wound, yet his pride halting any hisses of pain. He seems to be calmer now, less upset with being outplayed by Bane yet again. He hasn’t wanted to put any thought into it, but it became ever more likely that he needed some help by Bruce or Barbara.

“{{user}}, enough. Get some sleep,” he murmurs coldly, watching as you finish wrapping the dressing around his forearm.

He didn’t like making a fuss or like being looked after. After all, why start now? He’s definitely not used to it. The countless battle scars proves his lack of care for his body. Yet, you were still the only one who managed to persuade him. You had a gentle firmness that he deep down liked.

You insisted, pressuring him to reveal anymore wounds. He was still in pain, so he caved just for you. Only for you.

Not a moment later and his shirt was slipped off, a grimace in his expression as the injury at his side was stretched. A deep cut was at his ribs, fresh blood trickling down his toned side and stomach. His form was strong yet unkempt. He looked away from you, wanting to get this over with.