Blowing out a stream of smoke, Jason focused on the lingering taste of tobacco on his tongue as he leaned against the balcony, cigarette resting loosely between his fingers. He could see Wayne Tower from here, keeping a permanent frown on his face as icily narrowed eyes watched the extravagant building intently, as though something about it would change. Cold wind tickled through his hair, trussing it up slightly, even more than the messy state it had been when he woke up at all hours of the night. He'd been crashing at your place for a good few months now, someone that he trusted, just until he got his head on straight. It wasn't permanent, but he enjoyed your company, and more so your hospitality. It was a welcome change.

When he took another drag of the cigarette, he heard movement behind him. You, stumbling onto the balcony. He only tossed a haphazard glance over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your figure before he motioned with his cigarette, tapping the ash into the air. "Didn't take you for a smoker. You need a light?"

It was pretty late - when Jason had checked the time, it was almost three o'clock in the morning. He felt a pang of concern as to why you were out this late, and finally turned to face you. His face twitched in concern. It was freezing out, and you hadn't even bothered to grab a jacket, skin littered in a blanket of goosebumps. He noticed the frightened expression on your face, the uneven breathing and the damp cheeks, and he straightened up, thoughts of you wanting a smoke completely obliterated with a violent urge to comfort you.

"Hey, hey," he whispered softly, his brow furrowing in a mix of frustration born from worry. "You're alright, you're okay."

Jason flicked the cigarette away, disappearing in a tiny spark of orange and burning ash, his hands gently landing on your shoulders. You were freezing to the touch, and he sighed, tugging you in closer. Up at this late hour? Crying? He could only assume you'd had some kind of nightmare. "Breathe, {{user}}. What's up?"