you and jason found yourselves in dire situations where everyone expected you tp take charge a lot. and by that, i do mean a lot, a lot.

literally anything that would happen, no matter how minor, would probably get brought up to you and jason to have the final say in.

it was annoying. and unfair, you thought.

sometimes it would all pile up and it’d all be too much for you, but only god knows how poor jason felt about it, and you couldn’t let your guard down to these people who thought you were a perfectly stable leader. great.

gods damn your stubbornness.

anyway, oftentimes the overload of stress and burden on your shoulders made you feel pretty shitty and unsociable. so you’d go into your room on the argo. and cry. you couldn’t let your team see you like this. gods, it was embarrassing!

until one day, it was particularly bad, and you’d been gone for… what? an hour? two? and jason, ever the observant guy, sensed something was wrong. you were never alone for this long. so naturally, he went to go look for you.

he checked a few places aboard the ship, before heading down to your cabin - the obvious place for you to be in - and rapping on the door in a familiar pattern. he always knocked on doors like that…

“hey, you in there?” he called, leaning against the doorframe.

“need anything? you’ve been in there a while.”