This one comes from a prompt that the amazing lizhortons ( lizhortons on tumblr), also known as incorrect-aio-quotes, put together over on her blog. The first conversation stems from that prompt. Kudos to her for running an aio blog that always puts out such good content!

Just a note that this one here definitely isn't foolproof on facts, and I didn't really research beforehand because this was of shorter length (however if it's too unrealistic feel free to let me know). It is more of a self indulgent fic, but I'm happy with it.

Now, onto the story.

"You were hurt. What do you remember?" Jack asked, concern evident in his gray eyes. It took Jason longer than he'd admit to start piecing it together. Slowly, he pulled himself up, a dull throb lingering by his left ear and along the side of his head. The antiseptic smells and thin sheets were further proof of where he was.

"Just the ambulance."

"We didn't take the ambulance." There had been a lot of blood. Head wounds bleed a lot, Jack knew, and it didn't seem as if they had time to wait on an ambulance then and there, with the way the weather was.

"But I...heard a siren." Jason said, drawing a sigh from Jack.

"That was Eugene."

"Sorry, I was nervous." Spoke Eugene from the corner of the room.

"Oh." Still feeling somewhat confused, Jason tried at seeing him more clearly.

"It's good to see you conscious."

"S'good to see you two. Too." He squinted and the two Eugene's separated, his features sharpening some. They talked for a bit, their words losing definition after a while, and blissful sleep pulled him back in shortly then after. He couldn't remember being so tired.

"What happened?" He asked again some time later. The doctor had just come in to inform him of the damage (a moderate concussion), and to discuss the fact he wanted Jason to stay for observation. He read the name Donnell off a name tag and wanted to ask if he could leave, but there was enough blanks in his memory he resisted asking.

"You hit your head on the edge of a table." Jack said evenly, though however he thought was concealing his concern, Jason saw it in his face.

"Oh."

"Yes, and you were lucky, could've fractured your skull, even from just that." He said, rapping a knuckle lightly against the side of his own head. As was mostly custom for head injuries, Jason couldn't remember it, and the few details he gathered didn't make much sense.

"What...how'd I-" He pulled himself up, trying to glimpse his reflection in the TV in the corner. The white bandage over his head, an abnormality, the scratchy gown, a little unsettling. "Huh. How'd it happen?" Focus, Jason.

"You and Eugene were in the living room talking, joking around, I couldn't tell you what about. I happened to be in the other room when you fell backwards and hit it on the floor. It's a good thing your dad wasn't there." Added Jack, who looked rather glad indeed.

"I fell off the couch?"

"Not just the couch," Eugene suddenly entered the room, evidently having heard the last bit. "It was due to the fact that you chose to sit on the edge of the sofa, that you collided with the hardwood literally 'head on,' to borrow the colloquialism. There is a reason my foster parents would never have permitted that."

"Wow. Thanks, guys."

"You were bleeding quite a bit, you know." Reminded Jack. He already was concerned Jason wasn't seeing how serious this was. In the moment, he had to get Eugene not to panic, though he himself was startled by the sudden crash and following shout. Slick, red blood dotted the grain, seemed to be streaming from the wound. Jack vaguely recalled that his knees complained sorely as he knelt down to assess the situation. He'd been gone for not even two minutes, the younger men laughing twenty feet away. This kind of thing didn't happen with adults, one would think. But it could happen to anyone.

"Sorry you had to see that." Of course, Jason lamented, his mistake (though completely incidental) could've been avoided and could've have saved his friends some grief.

"Be more careful, will you?" Jack asked, his voice belaying the affection below.

Thankfully, Jason only had to stay that one night before returning home. The effects were not as severe as they potentially could've been, and save for a re-recurring headache and a few days of confusion, he was no worse for the wear. It could've been worse, was the finishing verdict as the event became swallowed up by the many missions and adventures had afterwards.

"Daddy! Come sit by meeee!"

"Be right there, squirt." Jason said, stopping a second, bowl of popcorn in hand. Did he really need to grab his phone from the kitchen counter.

"Daddy!" His daughter's voice said, insistent. Nah, Jason decided, he could go without it. Turning the corner, he was glad he did.

"Get off the armrest, now." He said, falling into that soft yet firm voice acquired with parenthood, the one that left no room for arguing. A bit clumsily, his daughter slid back onto the cushion. "I don't want you sitting on the armrest, okay? You could fall and get hurt." Thank God for the little nudges and instincts, he thought.

- Also, yes, the future Jason Whittaker has a daughter in my head.