Gotham Imagines

First and Last Pt. 2

Jonathan x Reader

You sit on the old haystack as dry autumn air swirls around you. The old house in front of you stands tall, taunting you with the knowledge of what happened to Jonathan. Recently you'd been coming here often, to Jonathan's old home, simply waiting and pondering or not thinking at all. It's so easy to get lost in the thought of unknowing, the endless sea of missing and hurting. Jonathan was your only friend, your sunlight in the dark world.
And now he's gone, you think. It seems the only thing to do now is sit. Try to forget.
Suddenly, you hear movement and scramble to your feet. The sound of treading through leaves is heard from the other side of the house, and a moment later a man steps out wielding a shotgun. He lowers it when he sees you. "Sorry," he says, "Just a precaution. Thought I heard someone back here."
"Who are you? W–what are you doing here?" you stutter.
"Officer Jim Gordon," his gruff voice responds, "...Came to board up the house. Can I ask what you're doing here?"
You ignore his last question, your thoughts racing. He's a police officer, one who must have investigated what took place here. "What happened to Jonathan, is he okay? Where's his dad...why are you boarding up their house?"
He pocketed his gun, and you noticed him chewing the inside of his cheek.
"I'm guessing you were a friend of Jonathan's?" he asks and you nod, "come with me."

Jonathan's sleeping when you're led into his hospital room. The second you see him, your eyes fill with tears.
"Don't wake him; he's in an intense state of fear. Anything could set him off," the cranky nurse advises. You nod once and sit down on a stool beside the bed as the nurse slowly closes the door behind her.
You turn to Jonathan and let your eyes rest upon him the way you're wanted to for so long. The steady rise and fall of his chest sets you at ease.
Suddenly, he thrashes around in the restraints and cries out.
This alarms you, and, unsure of what to do, you wait till he settles back down again. Once you see he is as calm as before, you close your eyes and begin to speak.
"Jonny..." you start, breathing in and continuing, "I miss you...It's been weeks, and, god, have you been here all this time?" You exhale, run a hand through your hair, and go on. "I'm tired of going to sleep not knowing what happened to you; I still don't understand it. You're own father injected you with liquid fear. That's awful! God knows you didn't deserve it..." A tear is falling down your cheek. You gently pound a fist on the table beside you. "What does this mean for you? For us?? Will things ever go back to the way they were?!"
You're body is racked with sobs now. The tears spill down your cheeks in tidal waves; your breaths are forced in and out of your lungs heavily, as if your throat isn't wide enough for them to fit through.
On top of all that, Jonathan has begun to writhe and surge in his hospital bed again, fearfully attempting to escape some insane delusion caused by his father. You can sense the pure terror, the panic he's facing, the pain.
Then, all at once, he sits up, he opens his eyes, and blurts, "Y/N."