Falling Through The Hourglass | Jason Todd x Male Reader

Chapter Three

You hated working with the Joker. No, while hate is a strong word, it wasn't strong enough, You despised working with the Joker. Even as the curse was taking its effect, the man himself made you feel sick. You could only take so much of that laugh. But it was going to be okay, this job would be over soon enough. Once the Laughing Gas bomb was rigged, you and the other goons fled.

You couldn't control how the curse would affect people, so you could only hope that the explosion would be delayed. Turns out, you ran to the same warehouse that Joker and a few other goons had. Good God. Joker was talking, but you pretty much tuned him out.

Something Something, Batman, Something Something, Batsy, is what you boiled down everything he said to. Even when it wasn't entirely accurate. Now he's talking about Batman having a new Robin, and now- wait, who is that? A glowing white pair of eyes appeared behind Joker. This wasn't Batman. This person was tall, but Batman was taller and the signature ears of the cowl were missing.

Your eyes widened in surprise, unsure of what to think. You had seen Nightwing in Gotham before, for he would occasionally work with Batman and Robin. It also wasn't uncommon for Robin or Batgirl to take on a mission while Batman was busy with something else. As the moonlight showed through the window, it confirmed that it wasn't any of them, a red helmet and a brown leather jacket reflected the bright light.

Who was this guy? Before you could snap out of your trance, Joker followed your eyes and looked behind him. Giving that same maniacal laugh you knew all too well, he grabbed the man's arm, tilting it upwards before he could fire at Joker. A loud bang rang throughout the warehouse, the bullet hitting an empty crate to your far left. "Looks like you missed. My turn!" Joker giggled as he kneed the vigilante in the stomach, shoving him onto the floor before kicking him in the stomach as well.

Joker chuckled, a grim rumble in his throat as he picked up a crowbar, twirling it in his hand. His smile somehow grew wider, stretching across his face as he brought the crowbar down onto his head, shattering the chrome red helmet into pieces. A scream ripped through the air as Joker continued, his cackling drowning out any other sound in the warehouse.

Your stomach flipped as you watched and listened, even the other goons around you were frozen with shock. All you could do at the moment was hope. Hope that the curse would come through and help the vigilante out. It was too dangerous to step in, for both your own safety and your cover. Goons don't help hostages. Goons don't help citizens. Goons especially don't help the hero.

Your prayers were answered by Batman grabbing and beginning to restrain the Joker. By this time, other goons had fled, deciding that they had enough of whatever tonight had become. Never one to pass up an opportunity, you raced to the man still shaking on the ground. He groaned as you picked him up, limply trying to push away from you.

Cringing, you turned and quietly left the warehouse, climbing onto the roof to actually think about your next move. You placed him down awkwardly, keeping quiet as you did so. Great, [Name], you got the injured vigilante away from the bad situation. What now though? Should you take him back to your apartment? May not be the best idea, he still thinks you work for the Joker.

To be fair, you do, ulterior motive or not. You can't just leave him here, nobody would be okay after that and you have no idea what or if he even has any kind of first aid on him. You were looking a little bit off to the side as you thought. You turned your gaze back to him. He was looking at you now.

"Hey.." you said, unsure of what to actually say. "What are you doing?" "What do you mean?" He backed away from you a little, wincing at the pain it caused. "You were working for the Joker. I saw you there with his other henchmen. Why are you helping me right now?" "That's...a long and complicated story."

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you spoke up again. "Do you have anywhere to go? As in first aid wise?" He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "Not nearby." "Hmm. Well, if you trust me, I can take you back to my apartment. I have first aid supplies there, and it's pretty close."

"Do I have much of a choice? You're really the only help I have available right now and I won't make it anywhere else without passing out." "That's fair." It was more than just pain that he was feeling. You could tell from the way he was shaking, his breathing laboured in an attempt to slow it down.

You didn't ask, any fear he had was justified. "How well can you stand?" "I can stand up and walk on my own perfectly fine." "Okay. Then do it." With that, he was up. His legs were wobbly and he looked ready to just collapse at any moment, but he was, in fact, standing. Nodding you began to walk across the roof, the man stumbling as he followed you.

He was able to keep up with you though, so you picked up the pace, sprinting across the connected rooftops of Gotham's many buildings. Within a few short minutes, you had made it to your balcony, leaping onto the metal structure. You looked behind you, getting a little worried when he didn't show. There he was, jumping onto the balcony next to you with a huff.

You gave an apologetic smile to him as you took out your keys and unlocked your door. You let him inside and closed the door behind you. As you locked it, he took what remained of his helmet off, allowing you to see the full extent of his face. You stopped as you saw it, immediately recognizing him.

How couldn't you recognize him? You indirectly killed him! You couldn't wrap your mind around it, people don't just come back from the dead. But you were looking at him, ravenette hair, blue eyes and all. His face was aged and there was a new white streak in his hair, but it was unmistakingly him.

"You okay?" You must've been staring. "Sorry, yeah, I just spaced out. Hold on, I'll be right back." You walked into the kitchen, fishing around in your cabinets as you tried to remember which one you left your first aid kit in. You bought it after a pretty rough encounter with Batman, one that you were lucky enough to escape from before you were arrested, but not without a few wounds to lick.

You made do with what you had at the time, but the next day you blew a lot of money on buying and stocking up a first aid kit. You hardly ever needed it though, for you would leave right after Batman arrived, so it was still pretty full. When you found it, you set it down on the counter and grabbed a glass, filling it with water.

You walked back into the living room, setting the glass down on the table and the first aid kit on the floor. The fragments of his helmet had left small cuts on his face, nothing too bad. It was the bruising you were more worried about, that and a concussion. You dabbed some antiseptic onto a cloth and rubbed it into his wounds, doing your best to be gentle.

After you took care of that, you moved down to his torso. "Are you okay with this? I want to check on your bruising, but I'm not going to do anything you're uncomfortable with." He only nodded. Once he gave you the okay, you peeled back his clothing and inspected his injuries. Definitely some very bad bruising, the skin already turned a deep purple with a blue hue. There were some especially concerning ones on his abdomen and back.

"Does breathing hurt at all?" He took a deep breath in before shaking his head. He's being awfully quiet. You nodded, packing up the first aid kit and handing him the glass of water before putting it back in the kitchen cabinet. "So," you started, sitting down next to him on the couch. "What do you wanna do?" you noticed that he was still shaking, his pupils dilated.

"Could you leave for a minute?" You were semi-offended. This was your apartment, but at the same time, he was injured and probably tired. He had a right to be alone. "Sure. I'll be over to check on you every few hours to make sure you don't have a concussion." You gave a reassuring pat to his shoulder as you stood up and went to your bedroom.

You weren't sure what to think. You stood in the doorway of your room, leaning against the closed door behind you. Should you tell him? What would that be like? 'Oh, by the way, I'm probably the reason you died because you made me really mad when I was a reckless teenager, so I cursed you with bad luck because I can do that. And after I found out I killed you, I spent my whole life using the same thing to ruin the lives of the Gotham rogues as a way of repenting. Yeah, sorry about that, but at least you're back now.'

You wouldn't sound so different from the rogues themselves. Not to mention, the question of how he was alive right now. God, your life was such a mess.