Scrapes

By: The Angelic Temptress

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Duh.

Rating: the usual PG-13

A/N: I started this as an answer to someone's challenge a long time ago but recently picked it up and decided to finish it. Be kind.

P.S. Thanks, Missy.

VvV

"Ow!" The young Jonh Stewart narrows his wet, dark eyes as the hot rag cleans the scrape on his knee. For a second, his grandmother pulls away from him to see if he is going to cry.

The chuckle dancing in her ragged throat and the sparkle in her large eyes only annoys the nine year old. With his index finger, he pushes his thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and then folds his arms over his chest. Grandma shakes her head and puts antiseptic on the knee that had grazed the blacktop.

He hates it when his grandmother or his aunt has to "fix" him up. He feels like a little kid.

John knows he can take care of himself. He doesn't need anyone, especially some girl, to help him.

"There," Grandma mumbles. "All fixed." She kisses him on the forehead and straightens his glasses after the band-aid is over the scrape.

"Thanks," he mutters and hops off the table. He doesn't want to go back to the basketball court and decides to pick up the new Justice Guild comic with the money he's saved instead.

VvV

"Ow!"

Katma wrinkles her forehead and presses the gauze to the cut on his arm again.

"Take it easy. That stuff stings."

He watches Katma roll her unique eyes before she says, "Well, if you'd stop acting like a stubborn trainee and listen to your commanding –"

"I did the right –"

"Don't argue with me, John. You disregarded my orders and didn't even focus your energy." She threw the gauze aside and let out an aggravated breath. "I don't know how humans train their military, but –"

"That has nothing to do with anything, Kat. I didn't need your backup. Because you stepped in, I lost my concentration."

She places both hands on her hips and says, "Let me spell it out for you. I can take care of myself, Stewart."

VvV

"Ow."

"Quit being a baby." Shayera smiles as she tightens the bandage on his forearm. "It's not even that bad."

"Says you." John moves his eyes from his arm to her face to his shirt on the chair and then back to her.

She shakes her head and her lovely red strands move along with her. He can't help smiling at the way the sickbay's lights brighten her hair and bounce off her ugly helmet.

"You need to get out of that uniform." Her jaw slightly drops at his statement, and he nearly mimics her action. John quickly recovers. "You work way too much."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm quite content with the way I'm living my life right now."

"Pfft." He hops off the bed and stands before her. "You can't be comfortable in that thing all the time," he affirms and motions to her helmet.

She narrows her big eyes and counters, "I don't see you bothering Flash or Batman about their masks."

VvV

"Ow."

Mari laughs from the doorway of the med lab as she watches the nurse stitch John up. He sends her a playful glare before they are left alone.

"Enjoying my pain?"

"Maybe just a little." Mari takes her time walking across the room before laying a kiss on his cheek. "How's your leg?"

"Feels like a hippo rolled over it."

"Maybe Mama needs to take care of that." She whispers into his ear and tickles his hairy chin with her gloved fingers. "I think I know what the doctor will prescribe: bed rest."

"Yes. I think I'd like that very much."

"How about Italian tonight?"

"Sounds delicious."

"Alright. We'll leave for Venice in twenty. Get cleaned up." Vixen laughs and leaves John to his thoughts.

He's too stunned to shake his head.

VvV

"Ow."

"You're still a wuss." Shayera finishes patching the cut on John's face and offers a sarcastic but sweet smile. "Better?"

"Thanks," he says with little enthusiasm.

"Anytime."

"No…" With a heavy sigh, John rubs the back of his neck and explains. "With Wally."

A little surprised, Shayera makes a face he can't read. "What? I did what any of us would have done, and it's not like I did it alone. I believe it was your hand keeping me grounded."

John stood from the chair Shayera had forced him to sit in. "But you found him."

"J'onn was the –"

"No. You have a connection with him."

"Kind of like the one you two share?" She smiles and closes the distance between them. "We all did it. Together. Just like old times."

"Like old times," he echoes and offers a friendly grin as well.

Shayera leans in and plants a soft kiss on his cheek. "Feel better," she advises and turns her back to him.

"Did I really break your heart?" he calls after her and waits for her to stop.

She faces him once again and sets a hand on her hip. "Let's just say if you ever hammer me like you did my copy, you'll end up like your copy."

"I don't doubt it."

With a chuckle, she admits, "You shouldn't."

"But that doesn't answer my question."

"It wasn't meant to."

END