The Joyride -Part 4 (Jason Todd x Reader)
A/N: I’m sorry this took so long! I worked hard on it, though, and stayed up until 2:30 writing it! I hope you like it! If you’re on desktop just click the title to enlarge the post! This is not the last part!
Warnings: Injury, angst
Tagging: @solis200213 @pinkwitch21 @tigeragathe @gokusanfan @just-a-girl-maybe @queen-of-all-the-fandoms @holywinchesterness @neverlandprincessjaz @actbat @steggy4ever @iamngoclinh08 @blackparacosm @maryenette
The past few days had been nothing short of hellish. It was an undeniable truth, but strangely enough, you were still hopeful. Jason had agreed to move back into the manor, at least temporarily, while you were recovering.
Bruce had brought the family in to visit, and it had lifted your spirits greatly. You hadn’t realized how much you would miss having a life with friends until you had to be cooped up in a bed for days at a time.
Dick had cried when he had seen your condition, and had cried even harder when Jason told him exactly what had happened. Of the three, Tim seemed to be the calmest. Dick was hysterical and Damian had vowed revenge on whoever had done this to you.
Alfred came in and talked to you for a while, which was greatly comforting.
Once they had left, Jason insisted that you rest, concerned that all the excitement had been too much.
That had been the day before, and today the nurses were telling you that they were going to try to get you back on your feet.
That was why Jason was currently easing you out of the hospital bed, careful not to aggravate your injuries.
“Take it slow, babe,” he cautioned, wrapping one arm around your back while a nurse helped shift you so that your legs dangled off the bed.
You winced as your legs were jostled. They were still bruised, and the wounds and scars where they’d had to surgically remove the shrapnel still stung slightly.
“Take it easy,” he repeated, his voice slightly hushed. “We’re gonna take it easy.”
“Yeah,” you replied softly, comforted by his presence, as he and the nurse worked to get you to your feet. Your legs felt weak, and you could barely support your own weight. Slowly, but surely, you were standing, leaning on Jason, who stood to your right, for support.
“You good?” Jason asked, careful not to overexert you.
“I’m good,” you answered, giving him a hesitant smile.
He smiled back, giving a thumbs up with his free hand. “We’ve got this.”
You nodded your head. “We’ve got this.”
“Okay, we’re gonna move forward, now. It’ll be slow at first. Are you okay with that?” the nurse inquired cautiously, standing at your left.
“Yeah,” you affirmed, preparing to move forward.
“Okay, here we go.”
Jason moved with you as you put one foot in front of the other and began to shift your weight. You faltered slightly, and Jason was quick to steady you.
“Who knew walking could be so hard?” you asked, giving a short and shaky laugh before your leg faltered again.
“Careful, there,” Jason chuckled, inching forward as you took another small step. “Don’t hurt yourself.”
“I’m okay,” you assured him softly. “We got this, right?”
He nodded as you took another step, holding you up as you wavered. This went on for a little while until you reached the doorway, and the nurse instructed that he walk you back to the bed. He helped you back in and under the blankets, and the nurse did some routine checks before leaving.
Once you were alone, you smiled over at Jay. “Wow. I made it a whole five feet. I could probably sprint a marathon now.”
“Hey, you made it five feet and back,” he joked, brushing your hair out of your face with his thumb and giving you a crooked smile.
“How impressive,” you sighed, biting your lip as you frowned slightly.
“Hey, don’t be like that,” he reassured you soothingly. “You’re recovering. It’s gonna take a little while, but you’re gonna make it.”
“I know,” you mumbled. “But I’m just impatient. Being cooped up in here all the time is just- it’s driving me crazy. At least once you recovered they let Bruce bring you your clothes and stuff. I don’t even get to wear my own clothes.”
“I get it,” he agreed, leaning forward to kiss you on the forehead. “You’ll be out in a couple days, though, and we’ll be back at the manor, and everything will be just fine.”
“God, I hope so,” you muttered, looking up at the white-tiled ceiling. You’d never thought you’d miss seeing colors other than white and the occasional blue, but you did. The tanned leather of Jason’s jacket and the blue of his eyes seemed like the only things in the room that had any real vibrancy or depth.
“We’ll be fine,” Jason repeated soothingly. He stopped himself from adding ‘I promise,’ to the end. As much as it pained him to acknowledge it, he knew that he was in no position to give you that promise.
You nodded and closed your eyes, letting out a long sigh. It was going to be a long few days.
You had been right. The next few days had crawled by agonizingly slowly, and your walking hadn’t improved much. You were able to get down the hallway with Jason’s help but that was about it. The hospital staff had decided to send you home, but you would need to be in a wheelchair and going back to the hospital every few days until they decided you were fit to walk on your own.
It wasn’t what you had wanted. You wanted to leave fully able to walk, and it frustrated you that you weren’t recovering as fast you would have liked. You were frowning as Jason wheeled you out the front entrance, though you were glad to finally breathe fresh air and you were glad to be part of the real world again.
Bruce pulled up to the curb and Jason pushed you over, helping you into the car before collapsing your wheelchair and packing it into the trunk.
You were itching to get back to the manor, and you were bubbling with anticipation as Jason took you up the walkway to the manor, excited to see your family all at once and not one at a time in a tiny room.
The boys were all waiting in the living room, all draped awkwardly across the furniture. They didn’t notice you at first, as Damian had stomach flopped onto the couch and had his nose buried in a video game, Tim was reading and looked preoccupied, and Dick was staring intently down into a bowl of Lucky Charms.
You cleared your throat softly, and they looked over. Soon, they were all on their feet and had moved to greet you. They were excited to have you back, and it was so refreshing. Happiness and excitement felt surreal compared to the tangle of panic and desperation that had consumed you mere days ago.
Of course there was always something to bring you back down, and this time it was the fatigue. You hadn’t even been interacting with your friends for fifteen minutes before you were unbearably tired. Somehow this was almost worse than the hospital. To be so close to normalcy but having it just out of reach.
“I’m so sick of this,” you hissed as Jason helped you into a separate wheelchair that you had to use for the stairs. “I’m not getting any better. How am I supposed to go back out on patrol when I can’t even walk?”
“Give it time,” Jason replied, his voice comforting and soft. He moved and knelt down in front of your chair. “You’ve only been out of the hospital for two days. You’re going to be fine.”
“You keep saying that. Nothing is getting better!” you snapped, your voice breaking slightly.
“Hey, hey,” Jason soothed, moving a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against your cheek. “You’re going to get better.”
“God, I’m sorry, Jay,” you mumbled, sighing. “I’m just impatient. I want things to go back to normal, you know?”
“I understand, babe. I understand. Let’s get you upstairs now, okay?”
You nodded and sighed. You felt terrible for snapping at him. He’d been so wonderful through this whole thing. You were so tired, though. You were just beginning to process just how close you had come to losing everything, and it had started to weigh on you. You hadn’t slept very well the last few nights. Every time you closed your eyes you saw the pavement rushing towards your face or the sparks against the concrete guardrail. In moments of quiet you heard the engine of that truck as it slowly pushed you towards the edge and the screech of metal scraping against stone. Your entire stay in the hospital, you had been praying that you could come back home, and wishing that you could leave. But now that you were actually home, the aftermath had set in and you had grown weary of living in your own head.
It was a quiet day, Jason was out running some errands, and the others were all in the cave. That left you alone upstairs with a plan that no one in their right mind would approve of. You hoisted yourself out of your chair, bracing yourself against your chest-of-drawers as you rose.
Even as you stood stationary, you knew it was a terrible idea. But that didn’t stop you. You inched yourself towards the doorway, leaning on your good arm, your broken wrist dangling uselessly at your side. Logic-be-damned, you were going to walk, and you were going to walk now.
You reached the edge of the dresser, and you held onto the corner to support yourself. You were about a foot away from the doorway, and your goal was to make it through the hallway and down the stairs.
You let go of the dresser and moved towards the doorway. Your stomach dropped as your legs gave out underneath you. You let out a short cry as you collapsed partway through the doorframe. You didn’t want to call for help, that would be mortifying, but you were also aware that with one useless arm, you were in absolutely no position to get yourself back up. You sighed and stared across the floor, your cheek pressing up against the hardwood. At least you had a lovely floor-view of the hallway. You weren’t sure when, but at some point you drifted off, waiting for someone to come upstairs and find you.
Jason set the groceries down in the kitchen and put his keys back in his pocket before deciding to go upstairs to check on you. He climbed the staircase, his boots thumping lightly against the wooden stairs, and turned into the hallway.
When he saw you collapsed and unconscious, he feared the worst. When he saw you, unmoving, he froze. When he saw you, all he could think was how much you had suffered already and how much you had gone through, and for what? He rushed forward, practically diving onto his knees to be at your side. There was already a knot at the back of his throat, and tears already welling up in his eyes because this couldn’t be happening. Because he’d already suffered so much. And oh please, God, not her too.
Gently, hesitantly, he shook your shoulder. When you didn’t move at first, he let out a sob, and for a second he felt his heart being ripped out of his chest. But then you were moving, and your eyes were open and he was thanking whatever deity was listening.
“Oh my god,” was all he managed to choke out as your eyes met his, and relief seemed to be the only feeling he knew.
You frowned, confusion evident in your expression, your mind still cloudy from having just been stirred. “Jay?”
He pulled you into his arms and held you tightly. Your legs were draped off to the side in an awkward position but he didn’t care.
“I’m sorry, Jason,” you whispered into his shoulder, the side of your face pressed against the leather of his jacket. “I just wanted to walk.”
“Don’t do that to me. Don’t scare me like that. What were you thinking?” He held you even tighter as he spoke, his voice still cracking as tears spilled down the sides of his face.
“I’m sorry,” you repeated, guilt washing over you in tidal waves. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Jason didn’t say anything, just held you closer and buried his face in your shoulder. He prayed that nothing like this would happen again. He prayed for your safety and he prayed for this nightmare to end. He had suffered through too much, but he couldn’t seem to suffer enough.