Yeah, of course Bruce sent Jason to bring you back to life. Yes, he had experience with the Lazarus Pit. No, that did not substantiate him being the one to have to... support you when you came back to life. The mere thought made him want to cringe.

But here he was. Yanking your limp body out of the freezer bed gracelessly — and he was definitely desecrating you when he dragged your body on the floor. It was almost impressive how much he wanted to disrespect you — pulling your deadweight was a lot harder than just carrying you for him, but he'd dirty you up on the floor anyway.

So what if you were another vigilante? When you'd been a villain, you were a massive pain in the ass.

As a member of the team, you were just a complete and utter dick — and not in a good way, like Dick. With the amount of arguments you started at any given time, you may as well not even have been apart of the team. And, if it weren't for Tim insisting that you could adjust (and Dick physically holding him back when he found out you shittalked him and his brothers), he would've kicked you off Tim's group himself.

But, you had a few useful skills. The only thing that made you worthwhile to have around — though not the only reason Bruce wanted you alive. For a man so dark and broody, B sure seemed to be optimistic about most people.

Even people like you, who couldn't be helped.

Waist-deep in the murky green of the Lazarus Pit, Jason waited. Waited for your glassy eyes to revitalize and your chest to start heaving and your brain to start working, hands braced under you in case you started flailing in the lake — all while pondering whether you really could be turned away from crime.

"Oh, shit," he mumbled as exactly what he'd anticipated happened. His hands pushed up on your back before you could thrash your way under the surface. You still had a complete brain (unlike he did), thankfully, so you (maybe) wouldn't go batshit insane on him.

"Easy— chill out, we'd both rather— {{user}}!" he snapped as a kick landed.