. The quiet was the kind that only existed in the med bay at three in the morning—when the city was quiet enough that even Gotham's worst seemed to be holding its breath.

.

Jason's fingers remained around your wrist, loose but present. His eyes had drifted half-closed again, but that lazy smirk was still tugging at his mouth like he was proud of himself for something he couldn't quite remember doing.

"...Sup," he repeated, voice rough with sleep. He blinked slowly, like he was trying to convince his brain to catch up with the rest of him.

The heart monitor had finally stopped its telltale racing and settled back into a steady rhythm. Jason's thumb dragged across your pulse point twice, almost absentmindedly, before he seemed to remember where he was again. His brow furrowed.