Chapter Text
You knew something had gone wrong the second you heard the first gun shot. Jerome had specifically told you there would be no firearms involved. He also told you to stay home just in case something went awry; advice you now wished you had listened to. By the second shot, you were ready to hightail it back to you car. You were about to turn around when one of Jerome's men came out, carrying a limp body with a head of vibrant red hair. Your stomach immediately dropped, and you quickly abandoned your escape plan as you jogged over to the man, tears forming in your eyes. The man carrying Jerome - Axel, you thought his name was - continued walking as you approached him, clearly determined to get the seemingly unconscious Jerome into the van in which they had arrived.
"He told you not to come, Y/N. This is why," Axel said gruffly, hoisting Jerome into the back of the van. "Here, put pressure right there... No, there... Now don't let up." He left you with Jerome while he got in the drivers seat to drive.
"What the hell happened? Jerome said there would be no guns," You said, watching Jerome's face as you put pressure on the bullet hole that seemed to have narrowly missed his heart. His face contorted in pain, letting you know he wasn't completely unconscious.
"Assholes wanted shit that wasn't in the deal, and when J wouldn't give, they shot," Axel grumbled, speeding out of the parking lot.
"If there weren't supposed to be guns, then why'd he tell me not to come?" You asked.
"Because you can't trust anyone. Especially not guys like these. We shouldn't have let our guard down. Should've brought Nick... That's what we should've done..." Axel said, more to himself than to you. Deciding that you weren't going to get any more information about the incident out of Axel, you turned your attention towards Jerome. His blood was covering your hands. You knew that if he didn't get back to the hideout soon, he was going to bleed out. His body was already starting to relax, and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.
"Jerome? Hey... Look at me, okay? Please, look at me..." You pleaded, a tear rolling off your cheek and onto his shoulder. He made a noise that was probably supposed to be a groan, but came out more like a strained squeak.
"Stupid bastards..." He whispered, his hand slowly coming up to grasp at his chest. "Can't... I can't fuckin' breathe,"
"I know, I know just a few more minutes okay? Nygma's at the house, he's gonna help you. Just a few more minutes... Don't leave me.. Not again, please..." You whispered, resting your forehead on his and blending your tears with his.
After an agonizing ten or so minutes you arrived at your groups hideaway house on the outskirts of Gotham. Axel picked up Jerome out of the back of the van and laid him on a table in the garage while yelling for Edward Nygma and Penguin.
Nygma came out first and did an immediate assessment of the situation before heading back inside to get the box of supplies he kept for times like these. You were advancing on Oswald the minute he stepped into the garage.
"Did you know those fuckers had guns?" You asked through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to slit his throat right then and there.
"No," he mumbled, staring at Jerome in disbelief. The kid was practically invincible; he'd come back from the dead, after all. But now here he was, lying helplessly on a table and bleeding out from a hole in his chest. "I'm... I'm the one who made the deal, it was just supposed to be a quick in and out-"
"It obviously doesn't matter what it was supposed to be, Cobblepot. Look at him! If Nygma can't help him-" You had to stop to gather yourself. "If Nygma can't help him," You said, slower and calmer than before, "you'd better pray for your life. Even that might not save your sorry ass."
Edward came back into the garage with a large box in his hands. He set it down and began cutting off Jerome's shirt, revealing a bloody hole just barely to the left of his heart. He lifted Jerome just enough to see his back, resulting in a grimace and a weak whimper. You moved closer to Jerome, placing a hand in his hair, trying and most likely failing to ease his pain.
"Well, he's got an exit wound," Edward concluded after laying Jerome back down. "All we can do is stop the bleeding and clean the wound, and hope it turns out okay,"
"What? That's it? Just hope?" You said, panic lacing your tone.
"Well, we can't exactly take him to a hospital, Y/N," said Penguin. He stopped talking quickly as you whirled on him, not wanting to upset you even more than you already were.
"It doesn't appear to have hit any major organs or arteries," Edward explained. "He can move, so his spine probably isn't injured. If it is, it's extremely minor. If there were any severe internal problems, he would've died before you all got back. We'll wait and see. In the meantime, I need to clean the wound, and Jerome needs plenty of space and rest."
Axel and Penguin took that as their cue to leave. Jerome, however, reached out and grazed your hip with his hand, trying to let you know that he didn't want you to leave.
"I'm not going anywhere baby," you whispered. "I'm right here..."
Nygma began cleaning the wound shortly after the men left, while you softly spoke to Jerome to keep him awake and alert. After the wound was cleaned, Edward injected some sort of anesthetic into Jerome's leg and told him it was fine to close his eyes now. As he did, you couldn't help but wonder if that moment right before Edward stuck the needle into Jerome's thigh, was the last you'd ever see him awake again.