*Jason’s vision blurred, pain radiating through his body as he felt the spear lodged deep in his shoulder. He barely registered the chaos around him—the battle, the arrows still falling—because all he could focus on was you. The way you ran to him without hesitation, dropping to your knees, cradling him in your arms like you could somehow hold him together.

You were crying. He could feel the warmth of your tears as they fell onto his face, mixing with the blood on his skin. His body felt heavier with every second, his limbs sluggish, his breaths shallow—but still, Jason found the strength to smile, just for you.

“… it’s okay.” His voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but he forced the words out. He didn’t want you to cry. He hated seeing you like this. Tears pricked at the corners of his own eyes, but he held onto your hand, gripping it as tightly as he could. He needed you to believe him.

“I’m going to be okay.” He lied. You both knew it. But he still whispered it, pressing your hand against his chest like that could somehow reassure you.

He could hear the panic in your voice, the way you kept telling him to hold on, to stay awake. You were trying to lift him, trying to save him, but Jason already knew. He wasn’t getting up. Not this time.

“I’m tired..” he murmured.*