The Quick Transmigrator's Happy (?) Ending | Part 2
Platonic yandere Batfam x quick transmigrator reader
You met Jason Todd in the very first world you transmigrated to.
It was, by the way, a sci-fi zombie apocalyptic world.
For a brief second, you thought the nightmare that was your life had simply gone up to eleven, taking your resignation at impending death via failing heart to be a challenge, and giving you a far more painful death via getting literally torn apart and eaten alive by zombies. You scarcely registered the fact that you could move again–back then in your original world, you had been too numb to move a finger–and madly dashed away from the horde as fast as you could.
Which, by the way, wasn't fast at all. The System 'helpfully' informed you that, as a most generous bonus considering your real body had been on the brink of death, the System had given you ten free points for your physical stat of one... out of one hundred.
Eleven points out of one hundred for physical stats in a zombie apocalyptic world. Even merely surviving already seemed like a pipe dream, and that was before the System informed you of your mission here: To assist one Jason Todd in finding a way to save this world.
The System had just as generously allowed you to ask one question free of charge, so naturally you asked: "Where is this Jason Todd now?"
[Answering Host's question, Jason Todd is currently in his grave at <Location>.]
"...I beg your pardon?"
Yeah. The guy you were supposed to assist in order to finish your mission was already dead.
For a brief minute, you wondered if the System had a major bug or was deliberately trolling you. In all honesty, to the present day you still weren't sure.
Out of better ideas, you went to Jason's grave. Not that it was easy–far from it, actually. You were so damn weak that the shambling zombies were almost able to match your pace, and your arms felt like they could fall off the sockets when you wielded anything heavier than a pencil. Not to mention the nauseating sight of the rotting, maggot-infested zombies themselves, and the fact that in this world you could hardly just walk to a store to buy supplies or ride the bus to your destination.
Thankfully, the System also gave a mini mission of killing zombies in exchange for rewards, though you weren't able to choose said rewards yourself. You killed your first zombie and was rewarded with a freaking Molotov cocktail. You used it to kill an entire room full of zombies and received a sturdy leather jacket. You killed at least three more before finally getting a bottled mineral water.
By the time you dragged your sore, weak, filthy body to the cemetery, you had lost count of how many zombies you had encountered and taken down. When you saw yet another zombie here, literally clawing their way out of a grave, it was only sheer exhaustion and your weak body that made you instinctively hide instead of kill them.
It wasn't until the System pinged in your mind with a congratulations, Host! for making contact with Jason Todd that your brain realized what was happening.
Ohhh. So that was Jason. And he wasn't dead so much as undead, apparently?
...you were still majorly fucked. How on Earth were you supposed to help Jason Todd the zombie in finding a way to save this zombie apocalyptic world?
In the end, you just helplessly followed Jason as he stumbled around like an extremely messed up deer. You actually herded him with a stick, steering him away from both his fellow zombies out of fear it'd ignite his so far undisplayed lust for brains and the few thankfully existing human survivors out of fear they'd kill him too.
Thanks to that, you couldn't afford teaming up with the said human survivors. Had it not been for your mini mission of killing all zombies aside from the one you were herding, you would've long since died of starvation or something else. Once you mastered the art of herding Jason the zombie, however, you quickly grew accustomed to doing everything with him as company.
You ate while keeping an eye on him, locked him up in a locker or some such place before settling down for a nap directly in front of the door, even washed up and changed clothes with him in the same room as you. Maybe your mind had grown messed up what with all the zombies you had to kill, or maybe it had been like that since you were dying in your original world, but honestly? After a while, you grew rather fond of Jason.
He was your emotional support zombie now. In this zombie apocalyptic world.
Yeah, you were so fucked.
Days after days, weeks after weeks, months after months passed just like that: with you surviving, killing zombies, and herding Jason. You even got into the habit of talking aloud to him–initially just when you had him firmly locked up in a closet or something and you could lean back on the door and pretend you were chatting with a friend who was comfortably leaning back on the other side, but it quickly became basically all the time when you realized Jason seemed to... listen? He wasn't insistently shambling around for something out there while you rambled about every subject that crossed your mind anyway. And when you found a copy of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein at one of your zombie hunts (look at how you'd grown; you used to constantly cower and shake in fear like a hunted bunny) and began reading it out loud to Jason, you swore there was an intelligent light in his eyes.
Eventually, amongst the food, medical supplies, weaponry, and other rewards from the System, you acquired a most valuable info:
Lazarus water.
Better known as the potential cure to this zombie apocalypse!
The zombie apocalypse actually began due to a deadly combination of corporate greed, corrupt government wanting to conquer the world, and what you'd like to think were misguided instead of evil scientists too preoccupied trying to figure out if they could to wonder whether they should. They more or less accidentally made the zombie virus which immediately infected some of their own members, and due to improper handling, it managed to break containment and spread into the rest of the world.
Another group of scientists had been working on a cure for the zombie virus from the beginning, but one by one they'd become infected as well, thus the project was naturally abandoned–or so it seemed to everyone in the know except for the omniscient System. It informed you that a single scientist had survived long enough to create the cure, this Lazarus water. It wasn't a perfect cure by any means, but the System guaranteed that it was good enough to cure Jason.
That made you so happy you actually pulled the still zombified Jason into a tight hug. No need to worry about being bitten by him there; you had long since muzzled him.
It would be so awkward if Jason remembered everything–or at least this one thing–once you got him back alive, but you decided that was problem for future you.
It was rather anticlimactic, in the end. You found an abandoned bike with a sidecar, which you put Jason into, and drove it to the laboratory where this Lazarus water was kept. There was a second of bemusement when you found out there was a whole pool of the stuff, but that actually made it more convenient. Unceremoniously, you shoved Jason into the pool.
He let out a voice that for a living person might be a yelp, went under for a second, thrashed around for a minute, then finally hoisted himself out of the pool. Formerly vacant, dim, dead blue eyes now tinged green like Lazarus water but focused and bright and alive alive alive, staring back right at you.
You never thought yourself a dramatic person, but considering everything, you deemed it fitting to properly greet him with:
"Welcome back to life, Jason Todd."
Jason tore off the muzzle from his face. With a voice raspy from disuse, the first thing he said to you was:
"You're a perverted freak, Reader S."
...yeah, your bad for the muzzle.
After that, you began traveling with Jason again. Still surviving and killing zombies, only this time there was no herding Jason. For the first week at least you had been continually surprised to hear him respond when you were chattering. The first time he shushed you, you were so offended that you just gaped at him for half a minute.
"You know, my memory as a zombie might be fuzzy, but I do remember you duct-taping my mouth because I kept making noises when you wanted to sleep."
"That never happened, dude. Your mind must have hallucinated it or something."
It was an adjustment, but... a good adjustment. You didn't realize how much you had longed for proper human interactions until you finally had it. Jason the human was–well, human. He made jokes (mostly dark, zombie-related ones), either got amused or offended at your response to said jokes, teased you for your weak body because your now thirty-five points out of one hundred were still decidedly below average, squabbled with you over who slept on which side and other petty details. If you could ignore the world being what it was, it was as if you and Jason were just two ordinary friends on an ordinary road trip.
Of course, the world being what it was, the two of you encountered plenty of un-ordinary things too. You experienced fighting back to back with Jason, driving fast as he shouted directions into your ear, even (embarrassingly more than once. Or twice. Or thrice) nearly falling to your knees from exhaustion only to be hurriedly picked up and thrown over Jason's shoulder as he carried you to safety.
More importantly, you experienced actually carrying out your mission in helping Jason save the world.
You had taken everything you thought might be important from the lab. Jason, upon seeing one of the papers scribbled all over with scientific formulas you couldn't hope to comprehend, had frowned before murmuring, "I know these stuff."
You raised an eyebrow. "You do?"
Jason shot you a warning glare, to which you responded with a perfectly mature tongue poke. But hesitantly, he added,
"I do. I've seen these. I–understand these."
Implied but not spoken: He might be able to perfect the Lazarus water cure with them. He might be able to save this world. You might be able to finish your mission, then perhaps the next and the next ones before finally coming back to your original world, leaving Jason.
You didn't hesitate to tell him, "Then let's try perfecting the cure."
(You didn't hesitate to do so, but you would've hesitated if asked to tell what you were feeling.)
Finding Jason took three months. Herding him until you found out about Lazarus water took three more months. Being the 'provider' for the two of you as he worked on the formulas took yet another three months, after which Jason's research came to the stage where he'd require more resources including test subjects, so you and he sought out a group of survivors.
Time flew by without you realizing it, moreover properly appreciating it. On the day marking an entire year you had spent on this world, there were three major occurrences:
First, Jason perfected the cure.
Second, the base you were in got invaded by the largest number of zombies you'd ever seen here. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them somehow had managed to gather unobserved by anyone in the base and break down the barricade, pouring in and immediately going for the kill.
Third, the System suddenly and unexpectedly told you:
[Congratulations for the first successful mission, Host! You will be moved automatically to the next world in one hour, or at any point starting from now if preferred. A friendly reminder that your body here will drop dead right afterwards, so you might want to find someplace convenient for it!]
What the everliving fuck. This bitch of a system never even hinted at something like that during your whole year living here?!
Before you could spiral, Jason's voice screaming your name brought you back. Your head snapped towards him. He was standing, struggling while four of the other survivors tried their best to haul him into a waiting helicopter–over one hundred metres away from where you were standing, with a mass of the zombies swarming between.
Jason was screaming your name, refusing to go unless they brought you too.
He looked terrified.
Oh.
Oh, Jason.
Absently, you recalled one of the rewards you received from the System: a one-use ability to teleport something to anywhere you choose. You'd never had the need to use it, until now.
Now, you used the ability. You teleported your copy of Frankenstein to Jason.
The book hit Jason in the chest hard enough to make him pause in his struggle. He instinctively caught the book before it could hit the ground, his green eyes staring wide at it before snapping towards you in horror.
Could you have done something else? Something better?
Perhaps. You couldn't think of any, though.
You just smiled, waved, and mouthed 'Stay alive' to your friend. Then, as the zombies began to swarm you to the point you could no longer see him, you told the System to take you away.
Your body probably hadn't even hit the ground when the zombies tore it apart.
In the present time, in your original world.
You looked at Jason.
Jason looked at you.
You sucked your boba tea.
Jason gave both books in his hands to the cashier.
You chewed the tapioca balls.
Jason paid for his now wrapped books.
Finally, you threw your now-empty cup into a nearby trash can and dashed.
Behind you, Jason shot out of the bookstore and ran after you like a wolf hunting a rabbit.
"READER S, YOU GET BACK HERE!!!"
A/N: I think I slayed it with the story 😎 Tell me if I did, guys, and lie to me if I didn't. I need the validation to survive.
Hope you guys like this story! Let me know if you want to be tagged 💕
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