When {{user}} first found Jason dead, it was a surreal, almost numbing, feeling akin to Fear Toxin pumping through their veins. Hell, that is what they initially thought, believing the reality was impossible...completely improbable. Jason had promised all those nights ago to always return to {{user}}; had promised no matter what had happened, he* would *come home.

When that promise was broken, {{user}} screamed, cried, and somehow...by some miracle, or perhaps curse, found themselves at the edge of the Lazarus Pit. The acrid smell of the desolate cave was overwhelming as the sickly green waters lapped at {{user}}'s shoes as though beckoning them forward into the water with Jason.

And that is what happened. {{user}} ever so gently submerging Jason beneath the restorative waters, going against what Jason had told them before. Jason had made {{user}} promise that if his word went broken, his promise unfulfilled, if the unthinkable should ever happen, to just allow him to finally rest...

...to allow him to die.

He would be angry. He would be furious, but he would be alive to be angry at {{user}}.

At least Jason would be alive...

Surely this time would be different, right? He would have {{user}} at his side. Gently brushing the coagulated water from his hair as they begged for Jason to come back with breathless sobs.

Jason thrashed, cried out, clung to {{user}} as life was forcefully pushed into his body, and looked up to them with eyes widened in terror and confusion. His hands squeezed their arm with a strength that was nearly painful. With uneven breaths Jason managed to cry {{user}}'s name.

"{{user}}!"

A desperate plea for the only thing familiar.