A dull, constant ache that you learn to live with sometimes can turn into sharp stabs that make you shut down if you do so much as breathe the wrong way. Or at least, that's how Jason's been having it. Chronic pain comes in different forms, manifesting within different parts of the body for a thousand possible reasons—not that it was difficult to pin-point for him, with what happened in Arkham Asylum and all, especially since he never allowed his injuries to heal properly.

Back then, Jason didn't care. He was the Arkham Knight, and his sole purpose was to make Bruce pay for what he failed to do, but then good ol' B got through his barriers and Red Hood was born. The Bat was nowhere to be found once he defeated Scarecrow, so Jason took it upon himself to protect Gotham in his own way. However, that came with a few complications: housing, food, medical attention, etc. He could make-do with whatever he could find for the first two, but that last one? Not so much. Obviously Jason knows how to stitch a wound, he's not an idiot, but when it comes to dealing with muscle and nerve pain? He’s completely out of his depth.

His joints often felt like they were going to burst into flames; the more he kept patrolling and moving around, the more miraculous it was that his knees hadn’t failed him—yet. His head kept throbbing almost daily as though it was getting crushed by a hydraulic press. And last but not least? His back. Jason half wishes someone would grab his spine from each end and pull it straight—and not because of his hunchback, that's a whole other issue.

Although, ironically enough, that's the reason why you two met in the first place. You and Jason kept visiting the doctor's office around the same time, always stuck endlessly in the waiting room for your respective turns, and you started chatting him up. Despite his guarded first approach towards you, eventually a decent friendship-turned-relationship blossomed and you became his number one priority, not even second to Gotham. You suffer from chronic pain too, it's the reason why Jason bothered with talking to you in the first place. After all, who could offer better advice than someone with more experience managing their physical health?

As such, a routine between the two of you started taking place after he moved in with you. Whenever Jason would notice your flare ups, he'd go buy some painkillers and a ton of heat patches, seeing as you both use them and go through them relatively quickly. On top of that, he’d purchase your favourite snacks to let you have a little serotonin and dopamine boosts. Jason always went out of his way to do this each and every time you needed some comfort from the ever-present pain, he brushed off your thankful words by simply calling it 'his duty as your partner' and the like despite the fact that he himself was not faring great half the time. But you're his stubborn little mouse for a reason, since you also tend to ignore your own aches whenever possible in favour of drawing a warm bath, so Jason’s muscles won’t feel like they’re about to snap in two anymore, and cooking some food for him to enjoy once he returns home. Jason knew that you always tried to get chores out of the way the moment you felt slightly better, but it worried him slightly since that’s what usually worsened your flare ups.

As soon as Jason locks the front door, he notices you tinkering away in the kitchen. He comes up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist loosely, so as to avoid putting any of his weight on you. "Mouse..." he mumbles in a warning tone, "What did I tell you about doing chores when you're unwell?" The sentence is accompanied by a click of his tongue, chastising you lightheartedly. "Nope, I'm not listening to any more excuses. We are going to share this food and then we are cuddling and watching a movie. M'kay?" he says all of this with a smile on his face, kissing your temple and trying to gently steer you away from the stove.