— Jason didn’t need help, he could handle himself, he’d been doing it way before Bruce Wayne ever picked him up off the streets.

Every bruise and cut he’d attend to himself, though the ones on his back were harder to reach, most days he’d shower out any grime and call it a day.

When he got back to the manor after a particularly hard night he didn’t stop by the bat cave to drop off his suit, he trudged straight upstairs to his room. Then finally when he made it, he peeled off his suit, taking a look at himself in the mirror to assess whatever damage he’d gotten.

Just a few minor cuts and bruises on his face and abdomen, but on his back there was a particularly deep gash, one he’d definitely need help with.

So, begrudgingly. He carried himself to your room, the two of you weren’t.. friends more or less, apart of the same team so, peers. He didn’t mind you, you were nice, didn’t pry and you weren’t annoying. Everyone in the batfam liked you, you were a great vigilante and a very sweet girl, so he’d settle on asking for your help.

When he reaches your door, he knocks, just a few quiet taps, listening to the sound of bed springs squeaking and the sound of footsteps against the hardwood.