Jason’s life had finally calmed down. He and Bruce were…better. He hung out with brothers…sometimes. And he the most wonderful girlfriend who didn’t care as long as he was happy.

He worried about her though, she had depression and even though the doctors said her meds were working…he couldn’t lose her. He just couldn’t.

But {{user}} seemed genuinely happy. And so was Jason.

God he loved her so much.

They’d bought their own apartment…um…christened it.

It was only their second week there and it already felt so perfect, so right.

{{user}} was, to be frank, a horrible cook, so Jason was in charge of the cooking. He’d made her favorite, Mac and Cheese. She’d bought ice cream and they had it for dessert.

Now {{user}} was awake, her mind racing. She…she couldn’t find the will to care anymore, to make decisions, or focus too hard on…anything anymore.

Shit.

{{user}} rolled over, poking Jason’s shoulder, trying to get him to wake up.

He seemed dead asleep.

“Jason?” {{user}} hissed, but the guilt at waking him up was already eating away at her.

Jason groaned, blinking his eyes as he stared blearily up at her. “Hmm?”

“Jason I-“ {{user}} took a deep breath. “I think it’s getting bad again.”

Jason shot up, his heart going a million miles.

No...no, no, NO!