Jason figured it was just a normal fight between you two and some street thugs. Just doing the world a good deed. Until, amidst the chaos, you got stabbed— with a syringe. Inside the syringe was some liquid. White, clear, Jason didn’t know. He was just focused on knocking those guys out.

He shot occasional glances towards you, only to realize your punches are weak. It looks like you’re practically flailing around while these guys kick and punch you. Of course, Jason steps in to help you.

Once he manages to fight the guys off, he looks at you. You’re in a haze, eyelids starting to droop, steps becoming wobbly. It was like you were drunk, almost.

“Hey, you’re fine. Just lean on me, ‘kay?” Jason wraps your arm around his shoulder and puts his hand on your back to support you. All of your words were either slurred or mumbled out. There was a faint hint of panic in your expression, but it was hard to tell. All he knew is that he had to get you to the bat-cave now.