“Patch Jason up first,” Roy says as soon as they drop into your apartment. At least his nose has stopped bleeding. “He’s worse off than me.”

Jason grunts, trying to sit up on the couch Roy sat him on. “‘M fine,” he says, holding his injured side. His fingers are coated red, so are Roy’s. It’s all Jason’s blood.

Roy ignores him, looking at you tiredly. “Please.” Then he falls back onto the couch beside Jason. Carrying Jason to your apartment’s left him exhausted.