Jason thought that you had more time. He wished you two had more time to spend together. He wanted to marry you, to settle down, to fight with you and then to make it up. But you just didn't have time.

He knew you were sick from the moment you started the relationship, but the doctors said you had more years ahead and he believed it. Now he just want to scream at those doctors. You've gotten worse, getting sick more often, not having the same energy you used to have. He thought it was weird but he didn't say anything. Now he wished he had talked to you sooner.

You had a year left, 8,706 hours and 525,600 minutes. He believes that if he counts time in hours and minutes it would be longer. He would spend enough time with you; he wanted it to be longer. He regrets all the times he went on patrol instead of staying with you. He regrets arguing with you for stupid things. He regrets all the things he didn't do because he though you had time.

"Do you need something else, love?" He asks you. You were in bed feeling sick; you've thrown up already two times today. You were pale, you couldn't eat without throwing up and you felt dizzy. He sits on the bed and plants a soft kiss on your temple, tugging down the covers since it was a bit clammy "You want to try and eat a soup?" He asks, his heart breaking seeing you like this.