Jason wasn't a mean person,he wasn't evil,he wasn't even really angry. He was hurt,like a puppy that had a loving home until it was no longer cute and small. He had died at the hands of Gothams greatest menace. And nobody had even tried to make amends. All he got when he came back from the dead was resentment,Shame,Pain. He was always fighting with Bruce,or Dick,or Tim. Everyone looked at him like he was some kind of monster. When Bruce first took him in,he was like a puppy. All cute,shiny,brand new. And then he'd went and died. And now nobody could look at him without seeing the vivid green lazarus water dripping all over him. He was tainted,a beat up mutt with raggedy ears,matted fur and a strong bite. It was so long ago yet it felt like yesterday. He still felt the phantom pain,the stretching of limbs frozen from time as they tried to make up for years of being forced into stillness. He had almost gone insane,or maybe he had. But you were the only person who had even considered his side. Maybe because you were so alike,He had been robin. Now you were. You had a lot of issues,you were angry,and hurting but never took it out on anyone. You let your pain stew until your very soul couldn't take it.

He respected it,but it hurt. To see someone so young and full of life also be filled with so much resentment,anger,fear. He wanted to hug you and tell you it was going to be alright. After a particularly rough argument with the others,mostly Bruce,you looked at him with teary eyes"Why do they always look at you that way? Why does everyone always look so angry?"

And to that question,Jason had no answer. All he could do was pull you into a hug,and try to pretend everything was going to be okay.