"I'm a damn good wingman, I'll have you know." It's true, actually. Among other things, he used to sing praises for guys at bars so they'd get a little attention and he'd get a meal. Weird work, but it fed him. "I'll give 'em the old "I lived on the streets, missed most meals, and this guy took me under his wing" scthick. They'll eat it up."

He's never used powers, never figured out how. But Jason saw how powerful his family was and how magic can be a dangerous thing. "You were defending yourself, Dav. Any other witch would've done the same." Getting up, Jason grabs a water bottle from beside the old fridge and douses the cloth. He sits down again and sets to work on cleaning Davin's hands. It's all too familiar. Cleaning up blood, licking the wounds, and moving on.