Heyy could u write a jason todd x pregnant reader where she gets kidnapped for months and gives birth while held captive and once shes rescued shes rlly traumatised and refuses to be away from the baby please !!
hope you enjoy my darling! to all reading: please be wary of the warnings! i know this is a sensitive topic to be written about, so please just take care of yourselves and remember that it is fiction!
to hold you once more - j. todd
dcu masterlist | main masterlist
summary: you give birth in captivity, and after being rescued, can't bring yourself to part with your child - a challenge your husband is finding increasingly difficult.
warnings: pregnancy (reader), kidnapping, reader has ptsd, depression, grief, mentions of malnourishment (both for the reader and the baby), reader dissociates * let me know if i missed anything!
the moment you're in his arms again, jason feels like he can breathe. the sound of water floods his ears, drowning out the wailing of your malnourished child.
you're trembling, and he's not quite sure you want to be held by anyone at all. if anything, he clings to you for himself. jason had believed these long nights were over. surveiling the city, cracking necks, guns and all sorts of violence in the name of justice.
jason would never allow himself to believe you weren't a target ever again. that he could have a tiny life - the life of a husband, a parent.
he thought settling down with you was something he could afford to choose. he'd never been so wrong.
for months, jason ripped the family apart with orders, driving them through long nights in search of you. he'd once again strained his relationship with his family.
but it all amounted to this. this moment, you in his arms, tears brimming his eyes as he takes in the infant cradled between your arms.
so small. delicate. a flower sprouted between the cracks in concrete.
his heart is shattering and re-building itself all at once.
"i'm sorry," jason whispers into your hair. he rips his mask off and kisses your head. over and over again. "i'm sorry," he repeats. "i'm so sorry."
it's all he can muster in the moment - in the dim light of this dingy basement. into the soft head of his child who has never seen the sun. the child who has been your only company for how many months now?
his family stands behind him, no doubt itching to hold you and your newborn just as much. but, respectfully, they keep their distance. they allow jason to have this moment.
to hold you, even though your quivering body cannot hold him back.
"she won't speak to me," jason grumbles one morning. his voice cuts through idle talk, through the static of the living room television. everyone turns in unison, concern etched into their faces.
purple bags bruise the underside of his eyes. his lips are pressed thin.
"i'm sure she just needs - " dick's voice falls quiet at jason's tone.
"she won't. talk. to me." jason's eyes burn into dick.
"dick was just going to say she needs time," barbara suggests. her tone is much softer, carrying that empathy she believed both you and jason need. "and i'm sure she does."
"you don't get it." jason's eyes stare blankly. into a void - a black hole in which no one else seems able to see. "she won't even look at me."
he pictures you, finally in a change of clothes, showered and cleaned. and how you wailed when he tried to rinse your hair, how you wailed as he tried to pull your child away. his soft reassurances had fallen on deaf ears.
he'd reminded you who he was - your husband. the father of your child. no way in hell was he going to hurt you or his baby, whom you seem reluctant to give the name of.
of course, the two of you had names in mind, but he wondered which one you chose when you gave birth.
jason doesn't want to say it aloud. he doesn't have to - everyone sees it on his face. but the last thing he wants is people's pity. the last thing he wants is everyone cooing over how it wasn't his fault he wasn't there.
if he'd done anything to get to you sooner, this wouldn't have happened. you could've recovered before the baby arrived and he could've been there. every step of the way.
"she doesn't look at me anymore," he repeats, eyes glossing over. it's a shred of rare weakness he allows everyone to bear witness to. jason's heart wrenches.
he's beginning to wonder if you even remember who he is.
"time," tim says. and jason hates to hear it. he hates it so much he could lash out like he used to - throw something, curse someone out. but jason swore to fix his temper when you came into the picture. now that he has a child, he swore to never give in to that anger ever again.
still, tim slowly backs away as jason gets up. "time," tim repeats. "i know you hate to hear it, but..."
the others silence his bluntness with nasty looks.
although jason's nails press into his palms, he does appreciate tim's inability to sugarcoat things. sometimes.
jason drags his feet upstairs and stands before your door.
isolated in the hall, lights off, his fingers twitch. he waits for a moment he hopes will never come.
he doesn't want to 'break the ice' as if you're some new couple. it feels like reintroducing himself all over again each time he steps into your room.
jason feels impossibly selfish for thinking this way. for wallowing in self-pity, for sobbing at night over what used to be, the parts of yourself you seem to hide from him now. you've evidently been through much worse.
so he doesn't voice to anyone how much it hurts.
he can hear your brittle voice singing lullabies to the baby. you sound good, but raspy. he hopes you drank the water he gave you.
gently, jason taps his knuckle against the door. "darling?" the old petname tastes like rust in his mouth. it dissolves on his tongue.
the silence tears a hole inside of him. but, daring as he's always been, jason opens the door.
light cascades over your figure as you hunch over the baby protectively.
"hi," he says awkwardly, unsure how to not scare you. "can i come in?"
he waits a moment, then takes your silence as an invitation. jason steps in and watches you wiggle a little further back on the bed.
"how is she?" he juts his chin towards your daughter. he put the pieces together on his own - the softness of the baby's face, the long lashes and bright eyes. she looked just like you.
and he cherishes his daughter. that's his forever girl. but you were his girl first, and he needs to care for you first and foremost.
"how are you?" he rephrased.
you don't say anything. your eyes studying something invisible on the floor. you seem to drift, unable to ground yourself in reality.
"hey," he says gently, trying to push your boundaries as softly as possible. "it's okay. i'm here. how are you? are you feeling okay?" jason glances to the nightstand and notes the half-eaten toast he made for you, and the glass now half-full. a tiny smile tugs at his lips.
"do you want food? it's almost dinner time."
even the baby coos, but you don't say a thing.
jason takes the chance to grow closer. just a little bit.
he spreads his arms as slowly as he can. "can i...can i hold her?" his eyes betray him and a tear rolls down his cheek. "may i? please?" it's a gentleness he's never even known himself to possess.
you struggle to kick yourself away through the sea of blankets, clutching your daughter closer.
"no, no," jason protests gently. "i'm sorry. i didn't...i didn't mean to scare you." he gets on one knee, hovering over the mattress as you curl into yourself on the other side of the bed.
jason feels too big, like some atrocity, some monster lurking. he feels too broad to match you, like a hulking thing. he doesn't feel human. he feels like a failure.
when he doesn't move, you quickly break into tears and the baby soon follows.
"no, no," he whispers. "please, i'm sorry. does she need...? do you need...?" his brow draws together. he doesn't know how to help you. how to make your pain stop. all he knows is perseverance. all he knows is the will to try.
even that seems to fail him.
"i'm sorry," he mutters. "i'm sorry." jason gets up, legs trembling. you only curl inwards more as you watch him go.
a month later, you're beginning to ease yourself into a normal life again.
you slowly start to branch out. each day, you go a step further from your bedroom.
the family brings you everything you need.
they ensure your food is brought up promptly and on schedule. seven in the morning for breakfast, twelve o'clock sharp for lunch, and five-thirty for dinner. each day, you begin to eat more and more.
they bring diapers and formula, and your hollow cheeks are beginning to glow with more life. it's slow, a tiny flame birthed into a bitter reality.
but as more time passes, you seem...happier. jason doesn't see you smile - at least not very often.
but he's happy to see you feeling confident enough to wander around the manor.
everyone is painfully gentle, and jason wouldn't have it any other way. they step out of your way, they get everything you need. they cater to you like you're a princess, and you deserve it. you need it.
and it seems to help you heal.
this environment of safety contrasting the harsh, brutal one you'd just come from.
you still don't answer when someone asks you a question, and if you say anything at all, it's a whisper. jason often needs to lean down to hear it, but then he gets too close, which often scares you off. he hates himself for pretending to understand you when he can't catch your words. but he doesn't want you to go.
you still refuse to be separated from the baby. she's always in your arms. and she seems happy.
bruce suggested therapy, but everyone else was too stumped to figure out when you'd be ready to leave or talk.
you spend most of your time in the garden when it's warm enough, and you begin spending time with damian's pets.
your daughter adores them all, and jason doesn't miss how damian smiles when he catches sight of her tossing her hands up with glee.
you begin to talk more. a sentence here. a sentence there.
but you still struggle with eye contact. jason wishes, just for a fleeting second, you'd meet his eyes.
for a time, jason is content with this reality, though he desperately hopes it's temporary.
his contentment is shattered when he sees you sitting on the couch with steph and barbara. and his daughter is being bounced up and down on barbara's lap.
you watch cautiously, hands at the ready in case you need to snatch your baby back. but barbara is gentle in the same, motherly way you are.
jason doesn't blame you for trusting them before anyone else. if there's anyone who could understand you, it would be them.
but it doesn't stop him from feeling a twang of jealousy, like molten iron sitting in his stomach.
next is cass - of course. you're holding the baby as cassandra doodles in the air with a finger. the baby grasps her finger and giggles.
jason wishes that was him. he yearns for you, for his daughter. and everyday, he tries. he visits you in your room, he tells you what happened while you were away. how he never stopped looking for you.
each day, he asks you how you are. you've begun replying with a whispered, "fine," or even a "good."
but it's all he can pull from you. you're healing. and jason doesn't care that you're healing slowly - he'll always wait for you, no matter what.
but he can't help but feel jealous when you seem to trust everyone but him. of course, that's not true. you've yet to let damian, bruce, tim, or dick hold the baby, too.
jason misses you desperately. the point he's losing sleep. you're all he can think of. you and your child - his child. the one you guys were supposed to raise together.
jason is bound to consider the worst - what if she doesn't let me see our baby's first steps? what if she doesn't let me in the baby's life at all?
all he can imagine is how he's chased a father figure for his entire life. he promised himself he'd be there for his child, no matter what. and now...this? of course jason would respect your boundaries. but...he wanted to be there. and he'd continue trying, no matter how long it took for you to accept him back.
one morning, the sun glaringly bright, you're making your way down the stairs. he's in the kitchen, cooking you some eggs, toast, and bacon.
you've gotten comfortable enough to store the baby's formula in the fridge - so it's the first place you come in the morning.
that's why jason has gotten into the habit of getting up early to make your breakfast. obviously, he wanted to take care of you. but more than that, he wanted to see you. to have a chance to see his baby and watch his daughter's first smile of the day.
he sighs as you enter the kitchen. he takes in your heavenly morning glow. the newfound fullness of your cheeks, the wrinkles in your nightgown.
"good morning," jason says solemnly. he tires to keep his spirits lifted - at least in front of you. "how are you? how did you sleep?"
"good," you answer, a little louder than usual. you sound genuinely happy this morning.
he's not sure what question you're answering, if you slept good or if you simply are good. jason only cares that you answered him at all. that you're talking to him. of course, it matters that you're having a good day, but he's just happy you -
he freezes. jason doesn't know how long he stays frozen or how much time passes until he hears you make your way beside him.
his breath is shuddering. he can't breathe at all.
"i..." jason slowly turns. "yes?"
"i never forgot." water brims your eyes.
he remembers the long nights - the ones where he begged you to speak to him. to say something, the nights that only served to scare you a bit before he apologized and left.
the baby is swaddled in your arms.
"i'm...i'm sorry," you mutter. "for not being able to - "
jason wants to wrap you in his arms right there. he doesn't. he forces himself to stay locked in place. to not take a single step forward unless you invite him in for a hug.
"don't...don't ever be sorry for that. that wasn't your fault." he's frantic, and not quite sure what or how to think in this moment. "don't ever apologize for what you did. you didn't do anything." and then he's rambling. he's apologizing himself now. for not being there. for not being smart enough to crack the case.
"i'm sorry," he repeats. "i love you. i never stopped loving you." he doesn't know why he's saying this. "i love you so much and i..." the eggs begin to sizzle and the smell of smoke wisps into the air.
jason coughs and turns off the heat.
"i...sorry. i burnt your..." he can't think or see through his muddled brain or the tears building. jason desperately blinks them back.
he shudders, and your eyes flicker up to meet his. the sight is shattering. it's like sunlight in its purest form. undiluted. bright, forgiving, full of renewed hope.
there was a long way to go. more healing to be done. but you were taking a step. a big one. for him. for yourself. for the baby.
your lips part. "would you...like to hold her?"
everything falls in place at those words.
he internally declares that this is perfection. this moment. nothing exists except for this flawless, perfect moment. whether you keep talking to him in the future, whether you shut down again, he will never stop trying to break through to you. to help you heal. just because of this moment.
"yes," he says desperately. "yes, please."
your hands are shaking. he reaches out to steady them as you hand off the baby.
his daughter feels so much lighter in his arms. so soft.
she squeals, and this close up, he notices that in her head of dark hair that she inherited from him, there's also a tiny white streak.
"what did you name her?" he asks, staring in amazement.
you lean in to whisper her name to him. your voice sounds like the kiss of a dove.
right then and there, jason decides he will never fall apart ever again. for you, and for the family.
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