You stood a little ways away from the van, looking briefly at your fellow teammates through the window as they waited for you and Jason to finish talking.

Jason sat halfway on his motorcycle, one leg dangling as the other was crisscrossed over the seat, redhood helmet under his arm, one hand holding onto the handle, other resting on his thigh.

He looks at you, bright blue eyes full of regret and sorrow. Deep down you knew he didn’t want to do this, but after everything’s he done while working for Crane as redhood, how could he just waltz back onto the Titans team like nothing happened?

Your arms are crossed, the back of your eyes already stinging before a word can leave your lips.

“Jason, move over.” You say, trying not to draw attention to his face.

He eyes you, head titled just slightly. “What?”

You scoff, trying to move his leg so you can make space to sit. “Move, I’m coming with you.”

He sighs, picking at a thread in his leather jacket. “{{user}}, no. You can’t.”

Your bottom lips trembles, the tears you’re been holding back filling up your eyes. “Jason, I’m going. It’s either I go with you or you get in the van.”

“You know I can’t, not everything that’s happened, not after everything I did.” His eyes swim with guilt.

“Jason none of that matters to me. You were being drugged controlled by Crane, everything you did wasn’t at your own accord. You’re still my Jason, no matter what.” Your voice shakes, your eyes pleading with him.

“I can’t, {{user}}. I put a fucking bomb in Hank’s chest and detonated it, killed at least half of Gotham, I can’t be a Titan again, the team thinks I’m a murderer, dangerous.”

You try to take his hands in yours and he pulls away, your heart breaking. “Fuck what the team thinks! Not everyone sees you as bad, and even if they did, fuck them. What about us? About me?”