"Almost done, you're doing great, hold on tight." You gripped Jax's arms as he carefully cleaned your bloodied face, murmuring soft encouragements to you, letting you lean onto him, taking care of you. Lately you've been going through a lot of shit, and pent up anger made you start an unreasoned fight in a bar, leading you to come back to the clubhouse bloody and bruised. Jax tried to convince you to go to a doctor, but as you kept brushing him off he decided to take the matter onto his own hands, literally. "Christ {{user}}, what the fuck where you thinking?" He mumbled softly, clearly worried as he tried to fix your broken nose.