Way Down We Go//Hans Gruber x Reader

Chapter 1

He should be dead. He had fallen from thirty stories, he should be dead. 

A low grumble passed his lips, his vision disoriented as he tried to force himself to remain conscious. It was only a matter of minutes before someone would be looking for his body, expecting him to be dead, and if he wanted to avoid being taken into custody he had to act fast. 

“Ah jesus-” 

Moving felt like torture, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. He could tell by the searing pain in his torso that his ribs were either bruised or fractured, which was to be expected. You don’t survive such a harrowing fall without earning a few battle scars. Though his body was heavy and battered, he managed to sit himself up, his head spinning. Flashing police lights flooded the entire plaza, crowds of journalists and police moving closer and closer to the lush bush Hans had found himself splayed in. Twigs and leaves clung to his suit as he rolled onto his hands and knees, his eyes darting around to search for an escape. With how incredibly painful it was to even breathe, he nearly decided being caught would be a better fate than to fend for himself, but something in him refused to give up. 

He didn’t have time for a getaway car so he was forced to travel on foot, limping and dragging his weight as far away from Nakatomi Plaza as he could get. He must have been walking for an hour before his body gave out completely, his knees buckling and his legs crumbling beneath him, sending him face first into the sidewalk. The last thing he registered before slipping into unconsciousness was the crack of his nose against the pavement and the steady flow of blood staining his expensive suit.

***
You had been walking to your car after a long shift at the diner you worked at. Christmas Eve was always the busiest night of the year for you and your feet ached from standing all day and your cheeks hurt from the forced smile you gave each customer. You looked forward to getting home and taking a long, hot bubble bath with a glass of champagne. Perhaps you would spend all Christmas day sleeping in. If only you had someone to share your queen sized bed with other than your cat. Just as you were about to get in your car, you saw the faint silhouette of a man laying face first on the pavement. 

Oh, it’s probably some old drunk, you told yourself, hand lingering on the handle of your car door. But then again, what if it wasn’t? 

With a deep sigh, you rushed over to the man, your feet aching in protest as you practically ran to him. “Sir? Sir, let me call you a cab.” When he did not stir, you inched closer to him, able to make out more of his outline. He was dressed in a fine suit, his hair tousled and untidy. Probably a business man that had one too many drinks at his work party. “Sir-”

In a moment of bravery, you kneeled beside him and rolled him onto his back, wincing when you saw his busted nose and blood stained beard. As you leaned over him his eyes fluttered open, his unfocused gaze meeting yours.

“I’m going to call you a cab, okay? Do you need to go to the hospital? I can have them take you there-”

“No! No-” His deep voice shook with fear, the conviction of his tone urging you to obey.

“Okay...Okay, so no hospital. Can I call a cab to take you home?” You asked, watching as he tried to sit up. “It’s no trouble, really. This happens more often than you think, everyone gets a little drunk on Christmas Eve.”

“N-not drunk.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, rushing to his aid as he nearly fell backwards. As you helped him sit upright, you could clearly tell he had been injured far more than just a broken nose. You couldn’t leave him here on his own now, not on Christmas. 

“Alright,” you sighed. “Up you go. That’s it, nice and slow.” You helped him stand, allowing him to put all of his weight on you for support, one of his legs dragging behind the other as you walked him towards the diner. “We’ll get you cleaned up and something to eat, yeah?”