“I told you,” he growls, “I don’t need you here.” Jason tears off his helmet, glaring at you. His blue eyes feel accusatory, piercing, but more than anything, angry.

While you’d heard so many amazing stories about guardian angels making a difference in the lives of a mortal, even being able to become human themselves, it was like the mortal you'd been assigned to deflected all of your attempts to help him.

Actually, to put it very lightly, he hated you.

But it wasn't your fault, you keep trying to reason with him! You'd just been assigned to watch over him. You hadn't been there his entire life, when he was a struggling kid on the streets. People don't really come back from the dead a whole lot–he was a special case.

“It would’ve been helpful if you were there when Joker murdered me, but I guess you only show up when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

The slightest bit of hurt leaks into his voice and he turns away, face crumpling with unspoken emotion.