He's dizzy with it, so much he hadn't hoped for suddenly in his lap and threatening him with broken bones, her determination almost enough to make him believe the impossible - that he won't fuck her up, won't get her killed, that he won't be something Allison has to turn from in the end. Her forehead meets his, and Jason's expression crumples, shock sucking at his composure until it's one tiny thread and ready to unravel.

He has no idea what to do. He misses Bucky like a hole in his heart, misses Steve and Natalia perversely when they're right here in the city and don't know him. On the island, any one of them would have known exactly what to do, but here...Here Jason's just lost.

"I don't know about women," he finally concedes, voice a mangled thing between them. "I don't know about anything." And he hurts, not just in his heart but in his body, functions he can't regulate when his head is so fucked up, and every anxious breath he takes more painful than the last.

"I'm sorry," he says, tears spilling down his cheeks, and a part of him knows it isn't fair, to cry when she's the one he's hurt, but he can't help it. The sob is almost boyish when it comes, and Jason hiccups it down, straightening himself up for the piteous journey home.