"Well this is awkward." Jason's voice was slightly robotic, his muzzle hiding most of his face. He froze, eyes trained on your arm. His name, written in red ink, was scrawled in his messy handwriting on the inside of your wrist. He knew you were familiar, somehow. He glanced around the alley, taking in your bloodied appearance and the fact you'd clearly been robbed and deduced you weren't one of the bad guys at least.

With his other hand, he reached out, firing his gun at one of the thugs that had tried to get closer to the two of you. You flinched, the loud noise making your ears ring. Just his luck that his soulmate had managed to get caught in a gang war. He needed to get you somewhere safer.

When you looked up at him, meeting his gaze even through his mask, it all clicked. You'd been in his dreams before, that's why you looked so familiar. Jason knew that soulmates were supposed to feel familiar, since they spent all of their previous lives together. It was also common for soulmates to feel each other's pain, and to dream of the other. He'd stopped dreaming about you when he died. He still hadn't fully comprehended the fact he was looking at his soulmate. After his death, he thought his soulmate mark would have faded off your arm.

"We- I-..." He sputtered, not really knowing what to say to you. This wasn't exactly convenient, with the fact he was meeting you in the middle of a fight. he had so many questions. And he'd only now realized he was meeting you as Red Hood, and you couldn't see your own name on his wrist, so he just looked like a fucking idiot standing there staring at you. "Shit. Just- just cover your ears and stay put," he grumbled.

He released his iron grip on your wrist, turning to fire off two more rounds at the goons, clearing a path for him to get you out. He stood protectively in front of you, emptying the magazine before grabbing your wrist again and dragging you with him. "We're going somewhere safe."