Late Nights in Gotham - Jason Todd

[SneeVee]

Jason laid on one of his safe houses' beds. He felt terrible. He hated to admit it, but he was sick. Really sick. Definitely the flu, which had ailed him or the past 3 days. All of his symptoms lined up with this particular illness.  His head pounded, his throat was sore, his nose felt stuffy, his fever made him feel so friggin cold -which is an oxymoron-, he didn't want to wake up. Unfortunately, he had an actual job. One that pays him money. Not vigilantism. He doesn't get anything from that. He pulled himself out of bed, his sweaty shirt almost sticking to the bed. He really didn't want to go to work. He sniffled, copious amounts of snot being sucked up into his head. It didn't make his nose any clearer and it didn't make his head feel any better. He took a shower, washing of the sweat that had latched onto his fevered body. 

"H'Itcsh!" He pitched forward, yellow snot hanging from his reddened, raw nose. He cupped his hands around his swollen and tender nose and blew harshly. Thick moisture bubbled into  his calloused hands. "Ugh," he sniffed, "Oh this is so gross." Heavy congestion oozed through his deep voice. He washed off his hands and got out of the shower. As he stepped out, the cold air tickled his sensitive nose. He quickly grabbed a washcloth from the sink and held it to his nose as his breath hitched. "Heh- he- he- Hetchoo! Hitchew! Ishoo! Hitcsh!"  Slimy mucus exploded into the soft cloth. He rubbed his sore nose in the rag, blowing softly with alternating nostrils. After a good few minutes of blowing, he found his nose to be dry enough to dry himself off and get dressed in his work uniform. He looked at his drained face in the mirror, "I look horrible," he remarked, running his rough fingers over his fever hot face. He quickly brushed his hair. He stuffed his pant pockets with tissues, paper towels, and a handkerchief. He pulled on a warm, black, wool laced denim jacket and walked out the door.

The bus ride to IKEA could have been better, and it definitely could have been a lot worse. He'd already used a big portion of his tissues even though he hadn't wanted to waste them on his messy nose before he even got to work. He walked through the doors and walked in. Jason sniffled, triggering a wet sneeze. "Heh- Itchshew!" He brought out two of his tissues and placed them on his nose. He blew hard into the tissues, the snot gurgling into the paper. The gurgle tapered of into a soft honk and his rubbed his nose into the sopping tissues. 

"Jason?" one of his superiors asked, walking over. His face held some concern. 

"Umb..." Jason cleared his throat, stuffing the tissues into his pocket again. "What's the probleb?" 

"Are you feeling okay, Son? You're not looking so hot." the older man put a hand on Jason's shoulder. 

"Oh, I'b fide. Really. Just... Uh- Allergies. Hittig hard today." he fibbed, shrugging off the man's hand. 

"Alright, but you let me know if you feel worse. We need people on registers." 

Jason nodded and walked off to one of the cash registers. He brought out a paper towel and wiped at his snotty nose. People started flooding into the store. People came in, coming and going. More people came through, and the snot in his head that was pounding in his sinuses was getting thicker. By the time it was time for his lunch break, he thought he was going to die, again. He'd run out of tissues, and he'd run out of paper towels. He'd gotten yelled at by many an old lady for being irresponsible, but what can you do when you work minimum wage? He got to the break area and laid his head on the cool, fake wood of the table. It made the pounding receded. His superior came over to him again. 

"Boy, you look awful. Go home." 

"I cad't. I take the bus," Jason sat up, sniffling. He could feel his ears go hot with embarrassment. 

"I'll drive you, Kiddo. You really shouldn't be here. I'll make sure that you still get paid."

Jason swallowed, nodding. He and his superior got up and went out to his car. Jason knew that this isn't something he should agree to, but if he needed to, he could break his superiors neck and then lay low for a while. He's the Red Hood, even if right now he looks pitiful. Jason sniffled. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and brought it up to his nose, softly and wetly blowing into the soft cloth. By the time he had gotten to his actual apartment the cloth was damp with his own mucus from all of his sneezes and blows. He bid his superior farewell and went into his apartment. He changed his clothes and grabbed another handkerchief and went to his couch. He laid down, sneezing twice wetly. He put on Riverdale - which he thought was hilariously stupid and crazy - and shut his eyes. His handkerchief stayed secured underneath his wet, dripping nose. 

By the time that Jason woke up again it was time for patrol. And has much as he didn't feel up for it, he had to. For Gotham, for Crime Alley, and especially for the kids. He pulled himself off the couch, swaying slightly before he got his grip. His nose was so blocked that he couldn't even breathe through it. He tried to blow his nose, but all that came out was a stuffed gurgle that did absolutely nothing for his congestion. He sighed, coughing slightly. He pulled on his suit, glad that he had a thermoregulator in his jacket. He loaded his guns, made sure he had extra ammo, he grabbed his helmet and snuck out of the apartment complex. 

He met in the usual spot that they did to make sure that everyone knows where they are if they were to get hurt or in any kind of trouble. Not that Jason ever told his family/co-vigilantes if he was hurt or anything. Everything that his brothers and 'father' said went in one ear and out the other like some bad ABBA song. He cleared his throat when it got to his turn, trying his hardest to not sound nasally. "Crime Alley, obviously." Before anyone could say anything, Jason sprinted off in the direction of Crime Alley. When he got there he sniffed, or sniffed as well as he could manage. He took off his helmet quickly, "Hishew! Hit'chew! Hishoo!" he snorted, wiping his nose on the palm of his gloves. "That's digustigg" he groaned inwardly, rubbing his nose and ignoring the squelching it made.

The night was mostly quiet. He busted a person or two selling drugs. Jason let them go easy with a shot to the ankles. He stopped a raping from taking place. He might have pushed the gal off of a balcony once she was alone, but that's his secret. He was about to finish patrol when there was an alarm going off from a convenience store. The alarm wasn't all that convenient for Jason in that moment. He wanted to go back home, have a cup of tea, and lay on the couch with a box of tissues and a couple hankies. Pretty much do anything but stop a robbery or whatever. 

Jason made his way to the convenience store, his Jerichos firm in his hands. Dick had made it there before him. What a Dick move. Or would it be dick move? The fever was making his jokes confusing to himself and he was the one making them! It didn't take long for shots to be firing, most missing their targets. Nowhere lethal, or too lethal anyways. Dick tied up the ametuer robbers and walked over to Jason. 

His voice fades into Jason's ears, "Hood, Buddy, are you with me? Red, come on, answer me." Dick shook Jason's shoulders. 

The last thing Jason heard was a yell for help before everything went black. He felt his helmet being taken off and a hand on his forehead before he drifted off to a fevered sleep.