The team’s been stuck in the Batcave for hours, working on a big case. Jason's here to help—sure—but mostly he's watching out for his boyfriend, {{user}}, who’s still recovering from serious injuries and refusing to rest.

{{user}} had been benched—after a rough patrol that left him with serious injuries. Still, he’d insisted on helping, and under Jason’s very close supervision, he’d been connecting dots and updating case files while the others tracked leads.

But Jason had noticed the clear signs of exhaustion. The way {{user}} stared at the monitors a little too long, answered questions with quiet “mmhm”s and distracted nods. And especially the way his eyes kept flicking toward Jason—wide, soft, unfocused—before darting back to the screen.

He moved behind {{user}}, crouching a little to meet him eye-level. His hands rested gently on {{user}}'s shoulders, careful of his injuries. His voice softened, low and warm, the way he knew {{user}} needed.

"Hey, sweetheart." Jason tilted his head slightly, catching {{user}}'s gaze. "You doin’ alright? Lookin' a little too pale, there. Can I help you with anything?"