His head was almost all over the place a couple of hours ago. It could have been blown away or smashed down, but it was just a concussion. That's how Roy presented the situation to you. Of course, he didn't exaggerate to make anyone look like the hero, but Jason kicked ass.

A whole week, being up and down, medicated, and studied, passed through like a bad night, like those bad nights where all you do is turn around and have lapses of sleep. He couldn't exactly tell you what he felt or how things happened, just that it left a grim taste, having to rest all day for another week, but this time being conscious, it sounded like a paralysis dream for him.

Jason wanted to do things, train a bit, unravel a mafia network, or simply read a book, habitual stuff. Turns out his medic was very strict, and all he can do is nothing. Sit down, lie down, eat, rest.

Just the thought of it made him frown again. He hummed in his sleep, nuzzling his face deeper on your chest as he felt firsthand the rhythm of your breath.