To Jason, you were everything, the only true friend he ever had. But there was a problem. You couldn't stand his obsession with smoking and he couldn't stand your worry. The consequence is simple; you argued.

When you saw him smoking yet another cigarette of the day on a rooftop in Gotham, his elbow resting on the concrete, his red helmet contentedly near his elbow and his eyes focused on the moon, you tried to get closer to him.

He knew right away that it was you. He recognized everything about you, including your steps. He didn't even give you time to say a word. "Don't even try," He said without turning around, almost growling. "You already know that you won't make me change my mind." Then, he freed his lungs from smoke.