“I owe you a lot of things, babe. I’m kind of surprised you’re still counting, honestly.”
The helmet drops to the floor with a dull thud, but you can’t focus on anything but his face, so much older than the last time you’d seen it. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders, like he’s waded through so much shit just to get back, but you can’t help but be relieved to see him, your Jason after so many years.
“It’s really you,” you marvel, already choking back a sob, drinking in the way his lip quivers when he smiles, the way he surges forward and wraps you in his arms.
“You’re my best friend,” he whispers, breathless. “I promised I’d always come back to you, and I meant that. You’re my home.”