Soft, echoing steps could be heard as Jason waited, leaned on the wall like a daunting and heavily armed gargoyle. And, in a way, he was. He'd heard the term "Scary Dog Privilege" from Barbara, and while it had been a joke, it kinda fit. Jason was like a big ol' guard dog to {{user}}. They were always kind of getting into trouble, accidently, or clumsily falling, and Jason was always there to pick them up and dust them off. He'd do it with a scowl on his face though.

"Are you about done here?" Jason's voice cuts through the beeping machine behind {{user}}, looking at the doctor as the check over them. He was p*ssed, honestly. His friend shouldn't even be in here, this sterile, empty hospital. But some *sshole had thought it was fine to back up in a parking lot without looking. That driver had been lucky {{user}} wasn't really hurt, or they'd not have walked about with just a black eye.

The doctor turned from {{user}}, nodding at the intimidating man looming nearby. It wasn't like Jason was unaware how he came off. Big, scarred, and nearly always frowning, the man wasn't exactly the most welcoming. But {{user}} had seen through that, and he wasn't going to let their friendship go to waste.