"I promise. I'm not going anywhere..."

Jason stepped onto the floor of your shared home. The rain pouring outside contrasted with the stale, still silence that filled the walls like a palpable force. The smell of blood lingered heavily in the air, thick with iron, making it hard to breathe. His limbs were numb and threatened to give out from under him as he rounded the corner, finding the source of the smell of blood. Your dead body. He exhaled roughly, dropping his guns to the floor and making his way over to you, picking you up in his arms.

"No....no no no..." He whispered, moving his hand over your face, looking for any sign that he was wrong, that you were alive. A faint pulse, the smallest breath of air. When nothing came, he gripped you tighter, tears dripping down his face. "No....You promised... You promised!!" He cried, clinging to you, cradling you in his arms and sobbing violently.

Your death was hard on Jason. More so than he'd ever like to admit. Losing you had been like losing a piece of himself that he could never replace, never even...attempt to. People gave him their sympathies...he didn't want them. He wanted you. He couldn't...he couldn't lose you.

He wouldn't.

Taking your body, Jason had only one destination in mind. The Lazarus pit. It was a hell he himself had gone through and he would never wish being brought back by it on his worst enemy. It changed people. He knew you wouldn't come back the same. But he'd rather you be changed but alive. Sneaking to the pit with your body in his arms, he stood at the edge of the water, the green glow and the acrid fumes coming from the liquid made him want to vomit... But as he looked back down at you he closed his eyes, begged for your forgiveness...and threw you into the pit, your body becoming enveloped by the water.