"I have b-booze at home." Jonathan smirked for a moment before he got up decisively and waited for Edward to do the same. He stepped out of the chicken shop and the rain was even harder now. God, Gotham was fucking awful. If he had a better truck, he couldn't have made it to somewhere a bit nicer but he supposed this shitty mob city was at least entertaining.

And he had Edward, of course.

"He thrusts his fists against the p-posts and s-s-still insists he s-sees the g--ghosts." Jonathan mumbled to himself, surprised it was flowing better now. Maybe Edward touching his face had strangely achieved something. "I didn't always s-s-stutter." Jon told Edward, out of the blue. He didn't know why but he said it. He just didn't want Edward to think he was incurable.