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it pained jason every day to remember the day it ended .

your relationship had been going fine-but he was insecure. he was unfocused, he was busy, he was worried that you would get hurt because of who he was or because he just didn't know if he had enough time for you, despite you also being a vigilante.

but that didn't make him falter in babying you, so it ended with an argument.

"you don't need to constantly treat me like this," you snapped, fists clenched in your coats pockets as the two of you stood out in the downpour in front of jason's apartment. "it's like you don't even want me out on patrol 'cause of your clinginess, 'n then when i need you in the mornings you run away."

because jason did run away. being so close, even being naked, it was worse than being naked. it was raw, and it felt like you always saw right through him-like you did then, too. because you knew how jason worked. you were the one that stuck with him when he was angry, that still called him and asked how he was doing when he had kori and roy, or artemis and bizarro.

you didn't drop him off with another group and wait for him to come back for you; you wanted to know how he was doing. you treated him like you wanted to keep him close to your chest.

jason liked that, obviously. but only when it was on his terms. whenever he could control it.

this, he couldn't control.

"what, so you don't want me to look after you?" he scoffed, "i thought this was about us working together."

"we've always worked together, but maybe it was just me working with a brick fucking wall," you argued, drawing your hood over your head. "tell me, jason, do you even want to date me, or do you just want to date someone you can have whenever you feel like it?"

at the time, the thought was convincing. jason couldn't bear to always be seen. it felt like his skin was being peeled off and he couldn't do anything about it. but running away when you looked at him oh-so hurt in the morning only made it worse; he felt guilty and he was guilty. he hurt you all the time, and it was the only thing he ever could do.

"maybe that would be better," he muttered, "maybe we're just not meant for each other like that."

you paused, looking at him like you expected something else. shocked, hurt, a little angry. jason was the same, only he couldn't be. he was the one to make this decision, whether or not it would hurt the both of you in doing so.

"go to hell."

you went home. he went back into his apartment.

on a mission with nightwing a week later, he asked, "you look like shit, what's been happening lately?"

dick was right, of course; he could never sleep as easily without you. you, the heaviest sleeper jason thought could ever exist, easily let jason roll closer. pull you closer. lay on top of you like he was trying to suffocate you with his two-hundred pound weight and huge-ass frame. you didn't mind-if anything, you enjoyed it.

jason missed it. "nothing, shut up," he muttered, continuing the stakeout.

it didn't go well without you.

he tried hooking up with other people to forget-it wasn't built for him, he discovered, despite how much he seemed to want to never be seen. he met a girl who was a heavier sleeper than you, but maybe she was just faking it.

the two of you were spun together in missions sometimes. jason tried his best not to look at you, so he wouldn't think about how badly he fucked up. so he wouldn't think about how pretty you looked lately. how much prettier you looked when you weren't with him, with him weighing you down.

then the cycle began.

it started one day when you showed up at his front door, badly injured. he helped you, of course. you spent the night at his house. that was the first time of many, but nothing had happened yet-

this was one of many times something does happen.

"please," you croaked, arm pressed heavily against your abdomen as your left thigh bled through your pants, "help. i need your.. your help."

jason didn't waste any time; he guided you to his couch and laid you down. he took the box of extra ripped fabric his upstairs neighbor kept forgetting by the dumpsters (he washed them, of course, but they all looked like they were supposed to be used to sewing anyway) and began to pack the wound.

all the while, he murmured to you, "shh, shh, it'll be okay, you're alright, i'll take care of you," like he always would.

he left for the bathroom to find his first aid kit and began to actually take care of the large gashes across your abdomen and legs. "what happened?" he finally asked, his voice still sort of soft.

"'s none of your business, nosy-ass," you mumbled, sinking into his couch. he almost felt like strangling you.

"you're making my couch dirty, so it is my business," he said, instead of anything like i care about you, so it is my business!!! because that would be stupid.

"it doesn't matter, jason," you muttered, your voice a little more firm.

"it does matter!"

"jason, drop it."

"i'm not dropping it, you just waltz into my house with your stomach ripped open and your thighs looking like you just got ran through a meatgrinder, adn then you tell me it's none of my business?" he demanded. "just tell me what happened!"

"oh piss off," you scoffed, "what, are you worried this time i'm not gonna let you eat my ass 'cause my thighs are fucked up?"

jason groaned, "is that the only thing you think of anymore? i'm sure you're so much happy, living a life without me because now you can actually have all the fucking sex you want! no one running away anymore, huh?"

you kicked him, hard, in the chest, ignoring the pain in your leg. you stumbled to your feet, planning to leave despite being half-clothed, the gauze dragging after you as it was being wrapped around you. your knees gave in and jason caught you before you could fall.

he didn't have it in him to be angry.

"'m sorry," he mumbled, placing you back on the couch where you fell limp, and he wrapped the rest of the gauze around your abdomen. it was almost reverent, the way his hands skimmed over your stomach and thighs. like an apology.

your face twisted slightly--between feeling guilty and wanting to hold your stance, before you gave in. "just get up here already," you muttered, patting the spot next to you, like you had to give him permission to sit on his own couch.

but he looked up at you, his eyes a little shocked and boyishly happy, before he sat next to you. he was stupid, but so were you. you both knew how this game went.

one of you would go to the others house (because, believe it or not, jason acts the same as you do) and then the other person would help.

there would be some type of argument, and the pain and anger would raw the walls you put up around other people. without those walls, the two of you become formless puddles. once malleable, the two of you would mix together until there was nothing else left but the two of you, surrounded in each other.

sometimes you would hook up. sometimes you would just watch a movie and cuddle, bask in each others closeness.

the next morning the bubble of peace the two of you had formed together would pop. this would end, and one of you would leave.

but that doesn't mean you would stop just because of the pain that occurs.

"it was some guy. i got kidnapped as a civilian and i had to deal with it carefully. 's why i showed up without my vigilante costume on," you muttered. "he's got a concussion now, so don't worry about him."

"i'm worried about you," he said gently, holding the calmness between you like it would shatter if he so much as shook it a little bit. "i just want you to be okay."

his hand found yours, or maybe yours found his instead. but it happened anyway, fingers intertwining. "i'll be fine. you were the one that fixed me up in the first place. you should know."

"but i don't," he murmured, because i'm only there for a day every month, he wanted to say, because i want you all the time. because he had finally grown out of fearing you seeing him really; because how could he ever prevent it? you always pushed his boundaries in the worst and best ways, and maybe he needed to be seen even if it hurt somedays.

"but you'll always be here when i need help, won't you?" you sigh.

jason hummed. "yeah. i will."

"so you do know."

he only wrapped his arm firmly around your middle, and the rest of the night was spent with the two of you wrapped around each other, doing the same dance yet again. because despite how much it hurt sometimes, the feeling of being close far outweighed it.