impatient with a rifle and your papers
or the story of jason todd's race against time
warnings | reader gets shot, blood, panic attack, dark humour
chapter 02 of the LOST BOYS series (can be read as standalone)
Jason Todd is a patient man. That is something that has always been like that and probably will be kept as part of his persona for as long as he lives. It’s just one of his quirks, he has learnt the art of waiting for things, for people, and now it’s something that defines him and differentiates him from others in this hectic city.
He has always played the waiting game when he was a kid, learning when to leave his room and the house, being on the lookout for voices from his mother and whether it was safe to leave or not. Leaning in the door of his childhood room, staring at bare walls, he counted the cracks in them repeatedly to pass time until the tinkering outside quieted down and he braved enough to leave.
Patiently he stood in the night when he stole Bruce’s tire as a kid too, hidden in the shadows of some dingy alleyway as he saw the mannerisms of the vigilante, calculating when to execute his idea.
Nonetheless, that didn’t mean he never acted impatiently. One example is when he learnt he got to inherit the Robin mantle, excitedly jumping up and down in place, almost walking across the ceiling from how ecstatic he felt. All toothy grins and sparkly young eyes, he couldn’t wait for nighttime to arrive to imitate his brother who he deeply admired despite all his mean jokes.
His Robin character was a bit more impatient than his Jason persona. He felt as if he got to be more careless, jumping around buildings with the company of his family, and that of course, was incredibly exciting for a kid! He couldn’t help but get super giggly whenever they got their suits on, urging everyone to be as quick as possible, tugging on their capes himself to be a bit faster.
There was one remarkable time in his Robin career when he waited, and waited, and just kept on waiting. Hours blurred together, days blended into one, and he still waited, suit torn to shreds, blood covering his tiny body from a beating with a cold crowbar owned by a distant patchy white face. He waited in between every hit of the metal to his body, he waited and he waited and he waited until his body gave up despite his mind’s wishes to keep waiting.
When Jason Todd got resurrected, he itched to change his character, to not be as “soft” as he was when he was younger. That’s the reason why everybody that knew early Red Hood knew not to make him wait. A moment in his presence without a reason to be is just a bullet waiting to be inside their shoulder.
Missions were done in the blink of an eye because he knew all the ins and outs of the city like the palm of his hand, knowing where to hit correctly, and without losing time at all.
In. Out. Job done. Not waiting around for the perfect moment. He made the perfect moment. All muscle and resistance, he knew he could take it.
He felt as if all he did in life before was wait and wait. All memories from his childhood he could remember he spent them waiting, waiting for something. He never knew or understood that, after all, he was a child at that time, but all he comprehended was that whenever he thought back on his childhood, he remembered the cold feeling of tiles where he sat down as others moved quickly beside him at a speed he couldn’t quite catch up to.
When he decided to let his existence known to his family, he did it quickly. Barged inside the defences of the manor, removed abruptly his helmet in front of his heavily armed blood, shouted some things, and left. No time for waiting around anymore.
It took a very, very long time until he started to wait again.
The first time it happened was with Dick, who stumbled around his room getting ready while Jason stood in the doorway, arms crossed and an annoyed face plastered. “I’m so so sorry Jay, you know I’m always on time, I swear my alarm never went off. If you want to hang out other day it’s fine by me, I know you don’t like losing time or waiting”. With a heavy sigh, he entered the room and sat down in his chair, grunting some comments along the way.
Once he looked back up at Dick, he saw his older brother standing there with his arm half slung across his backwards t-shirt, mouth wide open in a cartoonish way. “Well come on, don’t make me lose any more time” he mumbled as he put his hands in his pockets. To this day, Dick swears up and down he didn’t start sobbing loudly at that moment.
With time, Jason began to crave back that time he lost as an angry teenager, always doing things way too rapidly and without any thought. Now, he took time to do his things, he took space.
He began to long for the wait while his morning tea got warm in the manor while he chatted away with a sleepy Tim.
He loved the wait time in his favourite coffee shop while they got his coffee ready, taking that time to look at the gorgeous barista who fumbled around with all the seasonal decorations hung in the windows.
He specially adored the courting time to said barista, until after more than six months, countless sappy dates and one awkward kiss later, he finally could call himself the patient boyfriend of an incredible person.
It took time, a long time until he could begin to tell you about his personal life, both emotional and vigilante-related, as every ocassion he wanted to talk about the topic, he got cold feet. After some gentle coaxing, a lot of hard conversations and a brand-new therapist provided by his family, he could proudly call himself a man, a good man, as he told you once with a shy smile looking for your approval.
He found countless ways to prove himself to you to be a reliable and devoted lover. Jason took his time to learn you as a person in and out, both how your brain thought way too late at night after working all day long, and how his warm hands seemed to act as a magnet for yours in the winter. You did the same, patiently lying beside him when his thoughts got too loud and his body recoiled way from physical touch.
Your relationship was built on waiting for the other, because you knew that if one was ready for something but the other wasn’t sure, the first would stand across from them until the latter decided it was time. You began to build routines together, while one was cooking the other cleaned, he read while you wrote; doing things together, sharing your time together.
It was a normal activity to have Jason clean out a rifle in the middle of the table in the living room, working around the pieces with his tools, dismantling the deadly weapon, taking apart the pieces to gently and slowly wipe them clean with a cloth, and building them back the way they were before.
You used this time to clean with him too, and this time the chosen piece to organise and declutter in your home was the old mahogany desk you inherited but barely used until he got a hold of it and plastered a lot of his paperwork across it. He usually kept them inside colour coded folders based on a system Tim built "for efficiency purposes", and clearly not based on their personal colours form their vigilante personas. Either way, time got control of him this week, missions kept stacking on top of one another and the little breather he got, he used it to spend it with you.
Despite his efforts, he barely had been home all week, forcing you to wake up alone in the morning with his side of the bed made and cold to the touch. Ever being understanding, your personal stress got ahold of you too and a silly small argument started, completely petty and childish that would be forgiven in an instant, but still you needed time to cool down properly.
Ironically, Jason got called in for a last minute mission that would lead to the fall of the gang they were trying to take down. With a painful look in both of your eyes, he began to get his weapons ready for the task at hand, cleaning out his rifle as quickly as his slightly shaky hands let him. The time-consuming activity got done haphazardly in half the time as he got impatient to finish the activity as soon as possible.
You tried to help a bit by bringing some of his gear from another room to the living area, and as he saw the tactical jacket in your hands, he snapped a bit at you for touching his vigilante stuff even though you had helped other times and he shot up out of the chair to take the heavy object out of your hands.
Tragically, the fates weren’t in your favour that day and wanted to cruelly remind him to be patient with himself and others, and somehow, when he abruptly got up, the semi assembled rifle fell out of the table and managed to get a shot fired. Said shot also managed to find its way grazing your side, making a small, miniscule puncture that started oozing blood quickly into your white t-shirt.
Gasping and eyes wide open, you turned towards Jason for help and only saw his face ghostly white as he began to move with military precision and in a second, he had patched the graze up. He was mutely crying as he did so, not daring to speak up and respond to your angry ramblings at the rifle to distract him, because “honestly, Jay, are rifles even more precise? I’m sure you could get the job done as perfectly with a gun and they are more comfortable to carry too, your arms wouldn’t get as tired, honey” did not easy the heavy feeling in his heart of having involuntarily shot you.
You tried to act tough, but the wound hurt and burned, and you let out some noises when he touched the bloody surrounding area to disinfect it properly. When he was finished, he stood in his knees in front of you, ignoring his phone that had been ringing for the past minutes, and he cried and cried and kept begging for forgiveness in a tone so soft that it started to worry you. You managed to lower yourself down too, and now at his level, you took his face in your hands and gently wiped his tears yourself as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.
He began to hyperventilate a bit, as he kept mumbling apology after apology, blaming himself for being too impatient while assembling the rifle that he forgot to put the safety properly on. He was having a panic attack on your carpet, and then you forced him to stare at you while you talked.
“Jason, look at me. I am here with you, I am perfectly fine. Yes, it hurt like a bitch, but I can’t date a vigilante and not expect to get shot at some point. To be honest, I preferred you were the one to do so instead of some other weird rogue” you tried to joke around. Seeing his serious face still drenched in tears, you sighed and continued “It was an honest mistake, baby, I’m okay and I love you the same as I did before this tiny incident”.
He stared at you after some seconds breathing heavy to regain his composure and whispered “This happened because I was in a hurry, because I was an impatient excuse of a-“ “If you keep going like that I’m going to shoot you myself. You are allowed to take time to prepare for a mission, and if Bruce told you to get there as quickly as possible, that means that for other time you are allowed to arrive 10 minutes later because you needed more time to assemble your rifle, organize paperwork or just to kiss me because you know I miss you and I worry for you. And if he has a problem with that, I will personally talk to him. You are patient with them when they need time, and you should expect them to behave the same way to you”.
“I know you keep thinking this happened because you weren’t careful and because you felt angry at a lot of things in the moment, but please Jay, listen to me while I say this.
I know you are incredibly gentle with my fine china when I’m too scared to break it while washing it and you take over for me. I know you wait for 4 minutes exactly when you make my tea because the bag says it’s the perfect time to brew it to get more sweetness out, just how I like it.
You are a patient and gentle man, sweetheart. Do not let other’s lack of happiness over what they do with their time or uncontrolled brute force taint what you are”, you sealed finally.
You brought his shaking hands up to your middle, and after making sure the wound was safe, you got closer to him while your hands wrapped across his shoulders, engulfing him in a bone crushing hug. His hands were shaking a bit when he covered your bandages with his hands, and he just pulled you into his chest to deeply that you struggled to breathe for a second.
Now that his heartbeat was slowing down to match yours, you started to feel more at ease and fully let yourself get lost in the feeling of safety that was his presence next to yours.
a/n: im actually sorry this is so so messy but i struggled so much with this one bcs i kept changing the direction constantly maybe angst just isn’t for me fml
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