Like you lost your home and the shelter's gone

You're stuck in the storm outside

Feels like you've gone blind and you can't see life

But it's right before your eyes

Chapter Three: Align

The apartment is so quiet that he can hear his own heartbeat.

He figured that it would be another night of him being alone with his wounds and weapons, not that he minded. It was comforting to know that even though she was living with him now, he didn't have to hide much from her. She knew what kind of person he was so she was unfazed with his attire and his nightly disappearances. She'd seen him polish his guns and wipe mud off of his shoes. She even helped him wash out blood from his shirt and jacket on more than one occasion. She never asked him about them though. She respected his privacy and didn't try to find out what he did, who he was behind his mask or what he had behind the door of his room. All she ever did help him.

She's never been around to help him with his wounds though. He had made sure that she didn't get to see them.

He had memorized her routine by now and knew that he would not be seeing her until the afternoon. This was good because this way, she didn't catch him all bloody and dirty. He didn't want her to worry about him. Well, he wasn't sure if she would worry for him but something told him that if she saw him right now, she would. It was in her nature, he knew.

The steady rhythm of his heart skipped a beat when he felt a hand on his back and he reacted on reflex. He was just about to bolt up from his seat, ready to aim his gun at the intruder when he realized who it was. He didn't know how he figured it out without even looking back, he just knew.

If it made any sense, her touch was familiar.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and relaxed. He releases his hold on his weapons and allows them to fall into their holsters. He goes back to bandaging his wounds. It was a rough night but he was alive and that's all that mattered.

Her hand is still on his back and he feels her fingers trace one of his many scars. He doesn't think that she's doing it consciously.

"Don't do that," he tells her and he feels the ministrations stop. "Don't sneak up on me."

"I thought that you'd sense I was there," she tells him in a soft voice and he knows she's right. He was trained better than this. He shouldn't have been startled.

"I thought that you were asleep." He places the bandage on the table and winces because something on his back stings like hell. He'd have to find a way to contort his body in front of the mirror to treat his wounds. Or just wash them in the shower and let them scab and heal on their own.

"I think you'll need stitches," she says, reaching over his shoulder to get the equipment needed to treat his wounds. He stops her.

"Do you know how to stitch?" He doesn't look at her. He's not wearing his helmet and he didn't have his mask on either. He's not sure if he's ready for her to see him.

"I have a faint memory of doing it before."

"How faint is this memory? What if you were patching up a pair of pants?"

She scoffs. "Just trust me." She reaches over his shoulder again and he looks the other way.

He focuses his gaze on the wall in front of him, trying to take his mind away from the gentle tug on his skin. It stings but he doesn't mind. He's been through worse. She apologizes whenever he lets out a hiss but he's quick to assure her that he's fine and she should just hurry up.

"Don't rush me," she would mutter and he can just imagine her eyebrows knitting together in concentration. "Do you want me to mess up?"

"Doesn't matter," he would tell her. "If it leaves a scar, I wouldn't know. I can't see my back."

"I'll stitch the patter of a dick on your back."

He lets out a laugh and she scolds him for moving but he can't help it. He did not expect her to say something so crude.

"Please don't," he chuckles, the smile on his face not leaving. He's sort of glad she can't see his face.

"You wouldn't know anyway. You can't see your back." He can hear the smile in her voice. "I'm almost done."

He nods his head and feels himself calm down. "How did you learn to do this anyway? You don't seem like someone who's had medical experience."

The tugging stops and he feels his skin throb. "...I don't know."

He can sense her tense up and he immediately regrets his question. Why did he ask that? He already knew the answer.

There was a scar that went down the skin where his thumb met his wrist. He had gotten it before he became Robin, when he was still living on the streets. He was running away from a restaurant that he'd robbed and his hand got sliced open with a knife when he had escaped through the kitchen. It was not one of his smoothest or smartest getaways but, hey, he managed to get the money without getting caught by the cops.

It was the first wound that she had stitched up for him. She nearly fainted at the sight of his bloody hand and lectured him about his recklessness and how they should find other means to survive on their own. He, of course, was quick to remind her that if it weren't for him, she'd be dead on the streets so she shouldn't be nagging him about the decisions he made.

Angry, took hold the bag of money he had gotten, she ran to the nearest drug store and came back with a first aid kit. He would have ran after her but the lose of blood had made his head spin. Maybe he did have to be more careful next time.

He cursed like a sailor the entire time she worked on his hand.

Don't make a habit out of this, Jason. She had said to him as she placed a plaster over her stitching. It left much to be desired but it worked.

Too late for that. He gave her a smirk, which promptly earned him a slap on his shoulder.

"I hope this doesn't become a habit of yours." Her voice brought him out of his thoughts and he felt himself go rigid under her touch. She gently covered his wound with a plaster, her cool hands providing comfort against his burning skin.

"A little too late for that, Suri," he finds himself saying, spinning his seat to face away from the kitchen table. She had made her way around the kitchen table to tidy up the first aid kit.

"...Jason..."

For the second time that night he felt his heart stop and he waited with bated breath for her to speak again.

"That was his name..." She whispered, relieved. "I thought I'd forgotten..."

"You said his name the night I saved you. Who is he?" He asked as he stood up from his seat. He contemplated turning around to face her but he wasn't sure if he was ready to see her face just yet so he focused his gaze on the sofa that they've shared so many time before.

"He's... a friend..."

"You don't sound sure."

"I'm not."

He felt his jaw clench. "What do you mean you're not?"

She's quiet.

"He must have been someone important to you." He turns around and sees that she's distracted herself with the first aid kit, rearranging the supplies. "You threw your life away just to hallucinate about him!"

She doesn't speak and he nearly loses his temper. He wants to scream at her I'M HERE! I'M JASON! But he doesn't know how she'd react to that. He decides to just let her piece everything together herself so he approaches her and forces her to look at him.

She keeps her eyes closed.

"I'm sorry," she says, her voice wavering. "Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." He releases a sigh and her chin. She ducks her head and her mousy hair hides her face. "I just don't like it when people lie to me."

"I wasn't lying."

"I... I know you, Suri. I know when you're lying to me."

"...don't make fun of me, okay?" She shuffles her feet and he's tempted to make her look at him again. He wants to see her eyes. He misses them. "I... I don't remember a lot of things, you know that, but... I remember Jason."

"Who was he to you?"

"He...took care of me. We were both orphans living on the streets and he helped me. I would have died years ago if it weren't for him." He hears her sniff. She's crying. "I loved him."

He stares at the top of her head in shock. What did she just say?

"He died before I could tell him that." Her hands move to wipe the tears from her eyes. "He was everything to me, really. I know I shouldn't have gotten into drugs but I was young and devastated and the people who sold them to me promised me that I would get to see him again if I take them."

She's quiet.

"I don't remember much after that. All I remember is that I did get to see Jason again..." She laughs. "It wouldn't have been a surprise to me if I found out that the drugs killed me, to be honest."

It's his turn to be quiet. It's a lot of information to take in and he's not quiet sure what to do about it yet.

"Hey, I want to thank you for saving me that night." She's gone back to fixing the first aid kit. "I see now that if it wasn't for you, I would probably be waking up in some stranger's bed or, you know, dead. I'm really glad that you've taken me away from that life."

"...It's no problem." He manages to say before collecting his things. "I'll...go to my room."

He doesn't give her a chance to wish him good night.

A/N: Hello! Here's chapter 3 and I hope you all enjoyed it :) Stay tuned for the next chapter!

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