âWaffles?â Stephanie screeched. Stephanie really should control her temper, her emotions, and her voice but shit goes out the window when a certain someone ends up bleeding all over the floor of her secret hideout. It wasnât like she hadnât housed other crime fighters, people she considered her family but they all had the courtesy to at least ask her before dropping by and they werenât damaged or bleeding as well. I really should have paid more attention to Alfredâs school of medicineâŠStephanie slapped the palm of her right hand to her forehead, shaking her head at her comrade that was near the radiator.
âYou realize that youâre bleeding, right?â She dropped her staff as she made her way to Jason. Because of the candles, she could make out the scraps and blood, âDid you get into a fight with Killer Croc or something equally as big?â She crunched down so she was at eye level with him, her lip scrunched to the side, âI mean, donât you think Alfred or like a hospital would be a better choice than here? Iâm not exactly medical nurse 101 here.â She did a quick scan, wondering if maybe there was something more that was hidden underneath the clothes. âI think I have a first aid kit. But Iâm not sure what I could do other than bandage you up. If you need stitches-â She took a hard look at his fingers,â-and it looks like you do. Alfred is your best bet.â
Sighing, she moved closer to the right so she was at his side. she gently placed her arm underneath Jasonâs so she could lift at least half his body weight onto hers. Stephanie was trying her best to use what strength she learned from training under Barbara and Bruce as she was shorter than Jason.
âHere, lean on me and weâll walk over to the bed. Trust me, you do not want to be near the radiator. On three Iâll lift. Iâm holding you so you donât have to use all your strength okay? I got you. Trust me on this. Afterwards, Iâll feed you all the waffles. You know I keep extra in the fridge. Hell, I have three different waffle irons.â
Jason winced, hands slowly coming up to cover his ears. âGooood youâre like a fucking banshee. Please, lower on the decibels.â He wanted to roll up onto his side, but even attempting to twist made his entire body feel like it was on fire. Instead, he laid there, groaning softly while trying to tune Stephanie out. It was more her volume and range that was killing him, not the words themselves. Truth be told, he liked being taken care of, it was a welcome change from sitting alone in his own dingy safe house, sewing his own cuts.
âSeriously, did you spend so much time with Black Canary that her sonic scream rubbed off on you? Christ.â He dropped his hands back down onto the carpet, back to staring at the ceiling that seemed to be swirling, a delirious little smile quirking his lips. âKiller Croc? Nah, I wish. Heâs just one guy. I tangoed with like, twenty guys. Yâthink I look bad? Ooooh no, no no no. Yâshould see them. Pretty sure one of them ended up with an atomic wedgie that nearly split the bastard in half.â He held up a finger, wagging it at Steph. âTo be fair, he tried to knee me in the family jewels.â
He sighed, once again flopping against the dirty carpet, wrinkling his nose. âYeah, well, Alfieâs like, twenty miles away and then Iâd have to deal with Bruce and honestly, Iâd rather you just toss me back in my grave and call it a day if it came to that. Nah, you were closer, so winner winner chicken dinner.â The movement of his arm had Jason groaning, but he leaned against Steph, trying to keep from vomiting from the sudden change in elevation and position. âOh god, Iâm gonna toss cookies I swear tâgod. This carpet is gonna be technicolor by the time Iâm done. Hey, you got blood on your carpet, yâshould get that cleaned.â
Itâs your blood, idiot.
âGod, waffles. My kingdom for some waffles. This is why youâre my favorite.â
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