“You’re serious? I can’t do any physical activity for two months?”

Jason groans, burying his face in his hands as you poke his leg. You don’t know he’s a vigilante–maybe you’d be more forgiving if you knew? But with the way you’ve basically had him on lockdown these past few months, he seriously doubts it. Not that he really minds physical therapy. He almost likes it sometimes, but only because he gets to see you.

“A knee dislocation isn’t even that serious,” he continues, rolling his eyes.