Fic: Of Mortality [DCU, Tim/Kon]
Title: Of Mortality
Authors: lady_sarai, zoe_chan via their shared journal: the_and_sara
Continuity: DCU, some nebulous post-Crisis universe, where Kon is not dead anymore, and Tim is not brokenLength: ~3,700
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Kon
Rating/Warnings: Teen for language, and a bit slashy.
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Note: The trouble all started when zoe_chan either sprained or tore somthing in her knee. And it hurt. So she IMed lady_sarai and told her that she needed squish to make her feel better about being on crutches and in pain and generally miserable. So we wrote cuddly squish which made zoe_chan feel a little better, even if three weeks later, she does not know what happened to her knee, or how long it will be until it is better.
Summary: Kon drops in on Tim and is unpleasantly surprised.
Of Mortality
Kon used every bit of stealth and subtlety that he had to fly up beside Tim’s open window. He used his TTK-and there were times he really freaking loved that particular power-to pull aside the screen and fly in as quietly as possible. He crouched on the sill and frowned. His good mood evaporated and he wasn't even pleased with himself for sneaking up on Tim. “What the hell, Tim?”
Tim glanced up over the top of his laptop in surprise. He blinked a couple of times. “Hi. I… didn’t hear you come in.”
“That was kind of supposed to be the point,” Kon replied snappishly. He stepped down from the window and crossed his arms, still frowning. He jerked his chin at Tim, who was sitting up on his bed, leaning against the headboard, with a small pillow under his knee. His shorts did nothing to hide the brace on his left leg that extended from mid-thigh to just above his ankle. “What. The hell. Happened?”
Tim’s face took on a pained expression. “Do I have to talk about it?” He set the laptop aside on the bedside table, knocking over his crutches as he did. “Fuck,” he muttered irritably, rolling a little and sticking his injured leg up in the air while he retrieved the crutches from the floor and set them against the table again.
Kon narrowed his eyes, floating a few inches above the floor. “Yes, you have to talk about it.” He made an abortive movement toward the bed and crossed his arms over his chest again. “Or at least about why I didn’t know about it. Whatever ‘it’ is exactly.”
Tim made an inarticulate noise at the back of his throat and scowled. “I twisted my knee-probably sprained it,” he said finally. “It happened the night before last. I just… hadn’t got around to telling you yet.”
“What?!” Kon abruptly rose several feet in the air and his jaw dropped open. “I-Tim, I swear, I don't even know where to start,” he snapped.
Tim made an impatient gesture.
Kon growled a little, turning to focus his glare Tim’s nightstand instead of on Tim. “What the fuck? The night before last?” He glanced back at Tim and then away again. “How hard is it to fucking let me know, Tim? Did you even-“ He stopped, huffing. “Whatever.”
Tim sighed, pushing a hand through his hair in frustration. “Kon. I’m fine. Grouchy, but fine. I knew if I told you, you’d be here just as fast as you could fly, and you were needed elsewhere. I was about to send you an e-mail to let you know what was going on.” He made a sharp gesture toward the abandoned laptop. “But now you’re here, and I don’t have to.” He looked up at him. “I hurt my knee two nights ago. Thought you’d want to know.”
Kon’s expression softened a little and he rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and sticking his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Tim, and when he spoke he tried not to sound petulant. “I wasn’t that needed. Clark had it under control.”
“And I knew that… how?” Tim was almost smiling now.
Kon rolled his eyes again, taking a step toward the bed. “You’re Tim. You know things.” He frowned a little. “Except maybe that you have to tell me when things like this happen.”
“I did tell you,” he pointed out.
Kon gave him a Look. “Come on,” he said shortly. “You know what I mean.”
Tim sighed. “Fine. I should have told you yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Kon dropped his gaze to Tim’s knee and the leg brace, making a non-committal noise. He took another step toward the bed. “So how’d this happen, anyway?”
Tim’s face darkened, and he scowled. “I took a kick to the side of the knee. And you can sit down if you’d like.” He gestured to the bed beside him. “I won’t break.”
Kon looked up and blinked at him. “You-huh? Seriously?” He looked at his knee again. “Huh.” He took the last few steps and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Who landed a kick on you?” he asked incredulously.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Kon made a small, thoughtful noise and lightly put his hand on Tim’s right ankle. He looked at him, considering. “Okay,” he said finally. “But you realize I’ll find out eventually.”
Tim groaned and dropped his head back to the headboard behind him with an audible thump, closing his eyes. “It was nobody. Really. Just some stupid punk, who I thought I had down, and didn’t. While I was tying up his friends, he came at me. I didn’t even see him until it was too late.”
Kon winced, making an unintelligible noise. “Aw, man, Tim.” He squeezed Tim’s ankle a little, shaking his head. “That sucks.”
“No kidding.” He opened his eyes and regarded Kon silently for a moment. “How did things go in Istanbul?”
Kon rolled his eyes, making a face. “I don’t know why Clark asked for my help, he totally had it under control.”
“The pleasure of your company? Broadening your horizons?” Tim grinned. “Father/clone bonding time?”
Kon snorted. “That’s just… exactly the kind of thing Clark would go for, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “Although why he had to choose Turkey for a bonding session, I’ll never know.”
Tim laughed. “He’s as inscrutable as Batman, sometimes, isn’t he?” He narrowed his eyes at Kon. “And are you even remotely comfortable like that?” He gestured to where Kon was perched on the very edge of the bed. “Because I can move over.”
Kon shrugged, and nodded at Tim’s left leg. “You’re all…” He waved a hand vaguely. “Settled.”
“Do you want to see how easily I can get settled about a foot this way?” He gestured to his left and began shifting pillows.
Kon made an abortive movement toward him. “Tim, you don’t have to-“
“Too late.” Tim lifted himself up on his hands, grimacing, and swung himself over to land with his leg on the pillow again. He twisted a little and punched the pillow behind him into a more comfortable shape before turning back to look expectantly at Kon. The other boy rolled his eyes and moved so that he was sitting beside Tim on the bed. He put an arm over Tim’s shoulders, and Tim leaned into him a little. “That’s better.”
Kon rolled his eyes and rested his head against Tim’s. He looked at Tim’s brace and scowled. He tapped his fingers absently against Tim’s shoulder, trying to push away his annoyance. “So,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice level and calm, “how long do you need to wear that thing?”
Tim shrugged and made a face. “Depends on how fast it heals. Maybe a week. When it stops hurting just to move it, I’m supposed to start working on range of motion and strength-building, and then I can start taking the brace off. Too long.”
“Hmm,” Kon murmured. His scowl deepened as he noticed half-healed scrapes along Tim’s right forearm. He grunted and looked away, to the foot of the bed. He felt like his stomach was curling itself into a thick, heavy knot.
Tim frowned and bumped Kon with his shoulder, making him look back in a kind of grumpy surprise. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kon replied, sharper than he intended.
Tim drew back a little, a look of concern on his face. “Uh… Okay. You just-you don’t really seem like yourself.”
Kon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he lied, closing his eyes. Between the knot in his stomach and the pressure on his chest, it felt like the air was thick and he took a slow, deep breath to try and relax. The last thing he wanted was Tim worrying about him.
Tim raised a skeptical eyebrow. “’Fine,’” he repeated, sounding unconvinced. “This is why you’re breathing like you want to keep from hyperventilating.”
Kon made an inarticulate noise as he exhaled and shook his head again. He pulled his arm back from behind Tim’s shoulders and swung his legs to the side so he could sit on the edge of the bed. He needed to calm down, and fast, because he didn’t want to lose his temper again, and he certainly didn’t want Tim angry with him-the fact that Tim was worried was bad enough.
Tim watched Kon’s back for a moment while the other boy put his face in his hands. Something was wrong, and Tim had no idea what it was. “Kon,” he said quietly, trying to get his attention. There was no response. “Kon.” His voice was louder this time, and he punctuated it with a little shove. He would have liked to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but he was too far away, and it was more of a production to move than Tim liked to admit.
Kon jerked forward when Tim shoved him, surprised into letting out a noise that was suspiciously similar to a sob. He glanced back at Tim and noted the set of his jaw and the evident frustration on his face. Kon hesitated and then turned a little more to face Tim, bringing one knee up onto the bed and playing with the cuff of his jeans. “I…” He struggled to put words to what he was thinking. “I don’t know, Tim. It’s…” He took a shaky breath, still staring at his ankle. “Probably just… jet-lag. Or whatever.”
Tim snorted and leaned back, glaring at him. “Yeah. Right. Jet lag.”
Kon shrugged a shoulder. He glared at the mattress-he could hear Tim getting angry and he knew if he looked at him, he would see it. He started to say something, but he shut his mouth again and set his jaw.
Tim scowled and nudged Kon with his foot-perhaps a little harder than he had intended to. “Kon,” he growled.
Startled, Kon looked up and glared at Tim. “What?” he demanded shortly.
“You’re brooding.”
Kon rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well, you’re the expert in that department,” he snapped and immediately regretted it. “Damn it,” he snapped, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.
Tim made a non-committal noise. “If I don’t recognize it, who would?”
Dropping his hand back to his knee, Kon took a breath and looked at Tim. His tension and frustration made his voice thick and uneven when he spoke. “I… What am I supposed to do here, Tim? What do you want me to say?”
“Just talk to me.” Tim resisted the urge to lean forward and grab Kon by the shoulders to shake him, but only barely, and only because he didn’t think he could move that fast. “Something’s wrong. I can tell. You looking miserable and not talking about it is just pissing me off.”
Kon exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes before scowling at a point on the headboard just past Tim’s ear. “Fine,” he said shortly. “You’re hurt.”
“I know.” Tim wasn’t quite sure how this was relevant.
“You don’t get it,” Kon said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and making an inarticulate noise. He looked away and then back, directly at Tim. “You’re hurt. You get hurt.” He stopped, swallowing and ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach. “And you don’t even think twice about it!”
Tim blinked a couple of times. He wasn’t sure what he had expected Kon to say, but it wasn’t… this. “Kon, I… It’s not that I don’t think about it. I just…” His voice trailed off, and he shrugged. “I’m human. It happens.”
Kon shrugged a shoulder and muttered, “I’m not.”
Tim made a frustrated noise. “I know, but Kon… I’m really okay. This-“ he gestured to his knee. “It’s not that bad.”
Kon nodded and covered his eyes with a hand, rubbing at his temples. He leaned his elbow on his knee and didn’t move his hand-it was easier to say this when he couldn’t see Tim’s face. “I know it isn’t. But… it could have been.” He wasn’t sure Tim could even hear him, given the way he had lowered his voice. “I just-“ He cut himself off, inhaling sharply.
Tim sighed and shifted forward until he was close enough to grab Kon’s shoulder, surprising him into looking up. “Kon. I’ve been doing this since I was thirteen. Without any kind of meta powers. Honestly-I’m pretty good at taking care of myself at this point. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
Sighing, Kon leaned forward and rested his forehead against Tim’s shoulder. He shook his head, making a frustrated noise. “You just don’t even get it, do you? How can you say that?”
Tim brought his arm up so that his hand could wrap lightly around the back of Kon’s neck. He rubbed his fingers gently alongside it for a few moments while he ordered his thoughts. “I have to,” he said finally, leaning his head against Kon’s. “I can’t go out there at night thinking I’m going to be the next Jason or Steph, so I tell myself I won’t. I’m careful. If this is the worst that happens to me, I think I’m in pretty good shape.”
Kon choked on an inarticulate noise, turning his head toward Tim’s neck and squeezing his eyes shut. Tim’s hand was warm and solid on his neck as he moved his fingers absently along Kon’s hairline. He moved his hand and found Tim’s, grasping it where it was pinned between their bodies. Drawing a shaky breath, he said, “You realize that’s like the opposite of reassuring, right?”
“Kon, I’m human. Doing what I do-I’m going to get hurt. I can’t really avoid that unless I stop being Robin, and I can’t. But-“ he took a deep breath and drew back so that he could look Kon in the eyes when he spoke again. “I’m good. I’m better than Jason was, and-“ he closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. “I’m better than Steph. I’m not saying it can’t happen. I just don’t plan on letting it.”
Kon looked down at their hands, loosening his grip a little when he realized how tightly he was holding Tim’s. He pulled their hands closer, straightening Tim’s arm and turning it so he could see the impressive yellow bruise on his elbow. He reached with his free hand and barely brushed his fingers over it, ignoring the feeling in his stomach that was eerily similar to being hit with a really heavy object or maybe some kryptonite. “Good,” he finally replied thickly. “You’d better not.”
Tim bit back a hiss of pain as Kon’s fingers skimmed the bruise on his elbow. He’d almost forgotten about that one. “Deal,” he said with a small smile.
Kon pulled his hand away when Tim winced slightly, and took a breath. He pushed himself up on the bed, edging closer to Tim. He hesitated, looking away. “I just… don’t like it when you’re hurt,” he murmured in an undertone. It was as close to what he was feeling as he could manage to verbalize. He leaned forward, brushing his temple against Tim’s and shutting his eyes. “How about this deal?” he offered. “You work on keeping yourself in one piece, and I’ll work on this irrational panic, okay?”
Tim nodded slowly, smiling. “Fair enough.” He leaned his head against Kon’s and closed his eyes. “You don’t mind if I still fight crime, right?”
Kon’s laugh came out a little strangled. He moved abruptly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Tim in a hug. “No. I said it was irrational, didn’t I?”
Tim tucked his head into the space between Kon’s neck and his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Kon hugged Tim a bit closer, then pulled away. He moved a hand to the back of Tim’s neck and then leaned in to kiss him lightly. ”I guess,” he murmured. “I’m sorry about your knee.”
“Mm…” Tim grimaced down at the tightly wrapped leg. “Me too.”
Kon kissed Tim again and pulled back a little to sit upright. He dropped his hand to Tim’s right thigh, following Tim’s gaze to the injured knee. He looked back at Tim and frowned, noticing that he wasn’t leaning against his pile of pillows anymore. “Tim, geez, sit back or something.”
Tim grimaced a little and lifted himself on his hands to drop himself back against the pillows. He muttered a few obscenities as he moved his leg back onto the pillow he had been resting his knee on. He glanced up at Kon, scowling a little. “Happy?”
Kon smiled tightly, catching Tim’s hand in his and squeezing it. “If you are.”
Tim tried to hold the scowl, but it faded, to be replaced by a wry smile. “I will be happy when you come and sit next to me.”
Kon grinned and kicked his shoes off before climbing onto the bed and settling next to Tim, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. He wiggled a little closer, making himself comfortable against the headboard, and turned his head to kiss the side of Tim’s. “There. That better?”
Tim leaned his head against Kon’s mouth and closed his eyes. “Infinitely.”
“Hmm.” Kon murmured, closing his eyes as he rested his head on Tim’s. He listened to Tim’s breathing and then focused his hearing in on Tim’s heartbeat. After a while, he sighed and forced himself to open his eyes. “It’s probably getting late,” he said reluctantly.
“Hmm?” Tim asked drowsily. “Oh, maybe.”
Kon squeezed Tim's shoulder. “I should probably go,” he said reluctantly.
Tim sighed and lifted his head from Kon’s shoulder. “Superman still needs you in Istanbul?”
Kon chuckled and ducked his head. "Well, no, it's just… If I don't go, I'll probably fall asleep," he admitted sheepishly.
“Oh. Well if that’s all.” Tim shifted himself and the pillows on the bed so that he was lying down with his knee still elevated in its bent position. He turned on his side and looked up at Kon.
“Um.” Kon blinked down at Tim, torn. He really didn’t want to leave, but he also didn’t want to stay and risk pissing off Bruce or Alfred. He hesitated, considering.
Tim smirked. “Batman’s on patrol tonight, and he has monitor duty from dawn until tomorrow afternoon. If that helps.”
Kon shook his head, laughing lightly. He moved, scooting down until he lay next to Tim and then rolled onto his side to face him. “Well. It doesn't hurt,” he said, reaching out and touching Tim’s upper arm. He moved his hand down to cup Tim’s elbow, rubbing his thumb in a small circle. He shifted closer to touch foreheads. “What about Alfred?”
“Alfred likes you.”
Kon smiled and moved his hand from Tim’s elbow around to his back, inching closer as he did so. He murmured, “All right. What about you?” He kissed the side of Tim’s mouth. “If your knee’s hurting, I can go. If you want.”
“I think that would be a bad idea,” Tim said seriously, though there was a wicked smile in his eyes. “Your presence causes my nervous system to give off endorphins, which are a natural pain killer. I think that for the sake of my poor knee, which causes me unending agony, you should stay. If only so that I can sleep tonight.” He put on his most piteous expression and allowed his eyes to well up as he gazed at Kon.
Kon managed-barely-not to laugh, even containing his grin with a sympathetic, concerned look. He bumped noses with Tim and said seriously, “Well, I can’t leave you in unending agony, now can I?”
“I would certainly appreciate it if you could stay and relieve my suffering,” Tim said with a tragic sigh.
Kon laughed this time, shaking his head slightly. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” he teased, and kissed him again. When he broke the kiss, he shut his eyes and leaned against Tim. “You should try to sleep.”
Tim scowled good-naturedly. “I never go to bed this early.”
Kon rubbed Tim’s back in small circles. “I know, me either.” He rolled onto his back, turning his head to continue looking at Tim. “But in Istanbul, it’s already tomorrow.”
Tim made a face and shifted a little so that his head rested on Kon’s chest. “So-coming to see me-did you get up early or stay up late?” He propped himself up a little to look at Kon. “I don’t want you to have to stay here and sleep if you’re not tired.”
Kon laughed and put an arm around Tim. “I don’t think I’ve been to sleep in… two days? Give or take a time zone or two.”
Tim smiled and dropped his head back down. “Okay-just checking,” he yawned. He closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of Kon’s heart and breath.
Kon smiled and leaned his head against Tim's, letting his eyes shut. He felt Tim relax against him and let himself begin to drift toward sleep. "Love you, Tim," he murmured drowsily.
“L’v’you too,” he slurred, smiling sleepily into Kon’s chest. He fell asleep listening to the gentle sound of Kon’s even breathing.
*
When Alfred opened Tim’s bedroom door the following morning with a breakfast tray and a healthy dose of ibuprophen, he had to fall back on years of training and a lifetime spent with Bruce Wayne and his boys to keep from dropping it all on the floor. Rather than the single dark-haired boy he had expected to see in Tim Drake’s bed, he saw two. Curled around each other, though in a way that kept Tim’s injured knee stable and comfortable, were Tim and Kon-El-Superman’s teenaged clone. They lay fully clothed on top of the bed. They had fallen asleep without even pulling the blankets back.
He felt his lips curl in a small smile as he backed silently out of the room. He would return later with breakfast, he thought. Enough for both of them. He always had liked Kon-El.
The title comes from Allen Tate:
They sought the rumor of mortality.
Feedback is love. Love us?
Authors: lady_sarai, zoe_chan via their shared journal: the_and_sara
Continuity: DCU, some nebulous post-Crisis universe, where Kon is not dead anymore, and Tim is not brokenLength: ~3,700
Pairing/Characters: Tim/Kon
Rating/Warnings: Teen for language, and a bit slashy.
Disclaimer: We do not own anything or anyone. We promise.
Note: The trouble all started when zoe_chan either sprained or tore somthing in her knee. And it hurt. So she IMed lady_sarai and told her that she needed squish to make her feel better about being on crutches and in pain and generally miserable. So we wrote cuddly squish which made zoe_chan feel a little better, even if three weeks later, she does not know what happened to her knee, or how long it will be until it is better.
Summary: Kon drops in on Tim and is unpleasantly surprised.
Of Mortality
Kon used every bit of stealth and subtlety that he had to fly up beside Tim’s open window. He used his TTK-and there were times he really freaking loved that particular power-to pull aside the screen and fly in as quietly as possible. He crouched on the sill and frowned. His good mood evaporated and he wasn't even pleased with himself for sneaking up on Tim. “What the hell, Tim?”
Tim glanced up over the top of his laptop in surprise. He blinked a couple of times. “Hi. I… didn’t hear you come in.”
“That was kind of supposed to be the point,” Kon replied snappishly. He stepped down from the window and crossed his arms, still frowning. He jerked his chin at Tim, who was sitting up on his bed, leaning against the headboard, with a small pillow under his knee. His shorts did nothing to hide the brace on his left leg that extended from mid-thigh to just above his ankle. “What. The hell. Happened?”
Tim’s face took on a pained expression. “Do I have to talk about it?” He set the laptop aside on the bedside table, knocking over his crutches as he did. “Fuck,” he muttered irritably, rolling a little and sticking his injured leg up in the air while he retrieved the crutches from the floor and set them against the table again.
Kon narrowed his eyes, floating a few inches above the floor. “Yes, you have to talk about it.” He made an abortive movement toward the bed and crossed his arms over his chest again. “Or at least about why I didn’t know about it. Whatever ‘it’ is exactly.”
Tim made an inarticulate noise at the back of his throat and scowled. “I twisted my knee-probably sprained it,” he said finally. “It happened the night before last. I just… hadn’t got around to telling you yet.”
“What?!” Kon abruptly rose several feet in the air and his jaw dropped open. “I-Tim, I swear, I don't even know where to start,” he snapped.
Tim made an impatient gesture.
Kon growled a little, turning to focus his glare Tim’s nightstand instead of on Tim. “What the fuck? The night before last?” He glanced back at Tim and then away again. “How hard is it to fucking let me know, Tim? Did you even-“ He stopped, huffing. “Whatever.”
Tim sighed, pushing a hand through his hair in frustration. “Kon. I’m fine. Grouchy, but fine. I knew if I told you, you’d be here just as fast as you could fly, and you were needed elsewhere. I was about to send you an e-mail to let you know what was going on.” He made a sharp gesture toward the abandoned laptop. “But now you’re here, and I don’t have to.” He looked up at him. “I hurt my knee two nights ago. Thought you’d want to know.”
Kon’s expression softened a little and he rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms and sticking his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Tim, and when he spoke he tried not to sound petulant. “I wasn’t that needed. Clark had it under control.”
“And I knew that… how?” Tim was almost smiling now.
Kon rolled his eyes again, taking a step toward the bed. “You’re Tim. You know things.” He frowned a little. “Except maybe that you have to tell me when things like this happen.”
“I did tell you,” he pointed out.
Kon gave him a Look. “Come on,” he said shortly. “You know what I mean.”
Tim sighed. “Fine. I should have told you yesterday. I’m sorry.”
Kon dropped his gaze to Tim’s knee and the leg brace, making a non-committal noise. He took another step toward the bed. “So how’d this happen, anyway?”
Tim’s face darkened, and he scowled. “I took a kick to the side of the knee. And you can sit down if you’d like.” He gestured to the bed beside him. “I won’t break.”
Kon looked up and blinked at him. “You-huh? Seriously?” He looked at his knee again. “Huh.” He took the last few steps and sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “Who landed a kick on you?” he asked incredulously.
“I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Kon made a small, thoughtful noise and lightly put his hand on Tim’s right ankle. He looked at him, considering. “Okay,” he said finally. “But you realize I’ll find out eventually.”
Tim groaned and dropped his head back to the headboard behind him with an audible thump, closing his eyes. “It was nobody. Really. Just some stupid punk, who I thought I had down, and didn’t. While I was tying up his friends, he came at me. I didn’t even see him until it was too late.”
Kon winced, making an unintelligible noise. “Aw, man, Tim.” He squeezed Tim’s ankle a little, shaking his head. “That sucks.”
“No kidding.” He opened his eyes and regarded Kon silently for a moment. “How did things go in Istanbul?”
Kon rolled his eyes, making a face. “I don’t know why Clark asked for my help, he totally had it under control.”
“The pleasure of your company? Broadening your horizons?” Tim grinned. “Father/clone bonding time?”
Kon snorted. “That’s just… exactly the kind of thing Clark would go for, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “Although why he had to choose Turkey for a bonding session, I’ll never know.”
Tim laughed. “He’s as inscrutable as Batman, sometimes, isn’t he?” He narrowed his eyes at Kon. “And are you even remotely comfortable like that?” He gestured to where Kon was perched on the very edge of the bed. “Because I can move over.”
Kon shrugged, and nodded at Tim’s left leg. “You’re all…” He waved a hand vaguely. “Settled.”
“Do you want to see how easily I can get settled about a foot this way?” He gestured to his left and began shifting pillows.
Kon made an abortive movement toward him. “Tim, you don’t have to-“
“Too late.” Tim lifted himself up on his hands, grimacing, and swung himself over to land with his leg on the pillow again. He twisted a little and punched the pillow behind him into a more comfortable shape before turning back to look expectantly at Kon. The other boy rolled his eyes and moved so that he was sitting beside Tim on the bed. He put an arm over Tim’s shoulders, and Tim leaned into him a little. “That’s better.”
Kon rolled his eyes and rested his head against Tim’s. He looked at Tim’s brace and scowled. He tapped his fingers absently against Tim’s shoulder, trying to push away his annoyance. “So,” he said, doing his best to keep his voice level and calm, “how long do you need to wear that thing?”
Tim shrugged and made a face. “Depends on how fast it heals. Maybe a week. When it stops hurting just to move it, I’m supposed to start working on range of motion and strength-building, and then I can start taking the brace off. Too long.”
“Hmm,” Kon murmured. His scowl deepened as he noticed half-healed scrapes along Tim’s right forearm. He grunted and looked away, to the foot of the bed. He felt like his stomach was curling itself into a thick, heavy knot.
Tim frowned and bumped Kon with his shoulder, making him look back in a kind of grumpy surprise. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Kon replied, sharper than he intended.
Tim drew back a little, a look of concern on his face. “Uh… Okay. You just-you don’t really seem like yourself.”
Kon sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. “I’m fine,” he lied, closing his eyes. Between the knot in his stomach and the pressure on his chest, it felt like the air was thick and he took a slow, deep breath to try and relax. The last thing he wanted was Tim worrying about him.
Tim raised a skeptical eyebrow. “’Fine,’” he repeated, sounding unconvinced. “This is why you’re breathing like you want to keep from hyperventilating.”
Kon made an inarticulate noise as he exhaled and shook his head again. He pulled his arm back from behind Tim’s shoulders and swung his legs to the side so he could sit on the edge of the bed. He needed to calm down, and fast, because he didn’t want to lose his temper again, and he certainly didn’t want Tim angry with him-the fact that Tim was worried was bad enough.
Tim watched Kon’s back for a moment while the other boy put his face in his hands. Something was wrong, and Tim had no idea what it was. “Kon,” he said quietly, trying to get his attention. There was no response. “Kon.” His voice was louder this time, and he punctuated it with a little shove. He would have liked to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, but he was too far away, and it was more of a production to move than Tim liked to admit.
Kon jerked forward when Tim shoved him, surprised into letting out a noise that was suspiciously similar to a sob. He glanced back at Tim and noted the set of his jaw and the evident frustration on his face. Kon hesitated and then turned a little more to face Tim, bringing one knee up onto the bed and playing with the cuff of his jeans. “I…” He struggled to put words to what he was thinking. “I don’t know, Tim. It’s…” He took a shaky breath, still staring at his ankle. “Probably just… jet-lag. Or whatever.”
Tim snorted and leaned back, glaring at him. “Yeah. Right. Jet lag.”
Kon shrugged a shoulder. He glared at the mattress-he could hear Tim getting angry and he knew if he looked at him, he would see it. He started to say something, but he shut his mouth again and set his jaw.
Tim scowled and nudged Kon with his foot-perhaps a little harder than he had intended to. “Kon,” he growled.
Startled, Kon looked up and glared at Tim. “What?” he demanded shortly.
“You’re brooding.”
Kon rolled his eyes and huffed. “Well, you’re the expert in that department,” he snapped and immediately regretted it. “Damn it,” he snapped, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant,” he muttered.
Tim made a non-committal noise. “If I don’t recognize it, who would?”
Dropping his hand back to his knee, Kon took a breath and looked at Tim. His tension and frustration made his voice thick and uneven when he spoke. “I… What am I supposed to do here, Tim? What do you want me to say?”
“Just talk to me.” Tim resisted the urge to lean forward and grab Kon by the shoulders to shake him, but only barely, and only because he didn’t think he could move that fast. “Something’s wrong. I can tell. You looking miserable and not talking about it is just pissing me off.”
Kon exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes before scowling at a point on the headboard just past Tim’s ear. “Fine,” he said shortly. “You’re hurt.”
“I know.” Tim wasn’t quite sure how this was relevant.
“You don’t get it,” Kon said, crossing his arms tightly over his chest and making an inarticulate noise. He looked away and then back, directly at Tim. “You’re hurt. You get hurt.” He stopped, swallowing and ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach. “And you don’t even think twice about it!”
Tim blinked a couple of times. He wasn’t sure what he had expected Kon to say, but it wasn’t… this. “Kon, I… It’s not that I don’t think about it. I just…” His voice trailed off, and he shrugged. “I’m human. It happens.”
Kon shrugged a shoulder and muttered, “I’m not.”
Tim made a frustrated noise. “I know, but Kon… I’m really okay. This-“ he gestured to his knee. “It’s not that bad.”
Kon nodded and covered his eyes with a hand, rubbing at his temples. He leaned his elbow on his knee and didn’t move his hand-it was easier to say this when he couldn’t see Tim’s face. “I know it isn’t. But… it could have been.” He wasn’t sure Tim could even hear him, given the way he had lowered his voice. “I just-“ He cut himself off, inhaling sharply.
Tim sighed and shifted forward until he was close enough to grab Kon’s shoulder, surprising him into looking up. “Kon. I’ve been doing this since I was thirteen. Without any kind of meta powers. Honestly-I’m pretty good at taking care of myself at this point. Nothing’s going to happen to me.”
Sighing, Kon leaned forward and rested his forehead against Tim’s shoulder. He shook his head, making a frustrated noise. “You just don’t even get it, do you? How can you say that?”
Tim brought his arm up so that his hand could wrap lightly around the back of Kon’s neck. He rubbed his fingers gently alongside it for a few moments while he ordered his thoughts. “I have to,” he said finally, leaning his head against Kon’s. “I can’t go out there at night thinking I’m going to be the next Jason or Steph, so I tell myself I won’t. I’m careful. If this is the worst that happens to me, I think I’m in pretty good shape.”
Kon choked on an inarticulate noise, turning his head toward Tim’s neck and squeezing his eyes shut. Tim’s hand was warm and solid on his neck as he moved his fingers absently along Kon’s hairline. He moved his hand and found Tim’s, grasping it where it was pinned between their bodies. Drawing a shaky breath, he said, “You realize that’s like the opposite of reassuring, right?”
“Kon, I’m human. Doing what I do-I’m going to get hurt. I can’t really avoid that unless I stop being Robin, and I can’t. But-“ he took a deep breath and drew back so that he could look Kon in the eyes when he spoke again. “I’m good. I’m better than Jason was, and-“ he closed his eyes for a moment before continuing. “I’m better than Steph. I’m not saying it can’t happen. I just don’t plan on letting it.”
Kon looked down at their hands, loosening his grip a little when he realized how tightly he was holding Tim’s. He pulled their hands closer, straightening Tim’s arm and turning it so he could see the impressive yellow bruise on his elbow. He reached with his free hand and barely brushed his fingers over it, ignoring the feeling in his stomach that was eerily similar to being hit with a really heavy object or maybe some kryptonite. “Good,” he finally replied thickly. “You’d better not.”
Tim bit back a hiss of pain as Kon’s fingers skimmed the bruise on his elbow. He’d almost forgotten about that one. “Deal,” he said with a small smile.
Kon pulled his hand away when Tim winced slightly, and took a breath. He pushed himself up on the bed, edging closer to Tim. He hesitated, looking away. “I just… don’t like it when you’re hurt,” he murmured in an undertone. It was as close to what he was feeling as he could manage to verbalize. He leaned forward, brushing his temple against Tim’s and shutting his eyes. “How about this deal?” he offered. “You work on keeping yourself in one piece, and I’ll work on this irrational panic, okay?”
Tim nodded slowly, smiling. “Fair enough.” He leaned his head against Kon’s and closed his eyes. “You don’t mind if I still fight crime, right?”
Kon’s laugh came out a little strangled. He moved abruptly, bringing his arms up to wrap around Tim in a hug. “No. I said it was irrational, didn’t I?”
Tim tucked his head into the space between Kon’s neck and his shoulder. “It’s okay.”
Kon hugged Tim a bit closer, then pulled away. He moved a hand to the back of Tim’s neck and then leaned in to kiss him lightly. ”I guess,” he murmured. “I’m sorry about your knee.”
“Mm…” Tim grimaced down at the tightly wrapped leg. “Me too.”
Kon kissed Tim again and pulled back a little to sit upright. He dropped his hand to Tim’s right thigh, following Tim’s gaze to the injured knee. He looked back at Tim and frowned, noticing that he wasn’t leaning against his pile of pillows anymore. “Tim, geez, sit back or something.”
Tim grimaced a little and lifted himself on his hands to drop himself back against the pillows. He muttered a few obscenities as he moved his leg back onto the pillow he had been resting his knee on. He glanced up at Kon, scowling a little. “Happy?”
Kon smiled tightly, catching Tim’s hand in his and squeezing it. “If you are.”
Tim tried to hold the scowl, but it faded, to be replaced by a wry smile. “I will be happy when you come and sit next to me.”
Kon grinned and kicked his shoes off before climbing onto the bed and settling next to Tim, wrapping his arm over his shoulders. He wiggled a little closer, making himself comfortable against the headboard, and turned his head to kiss the side of Tim’s. “There. That better?”
Tim leaned his head against Kon’s mouth and closed his eyes. “Infinitely.”
“Hmm.” Kon murmured, closing his eyes as he rested his head on Tim’s. He listened to Tim’s breathing and then focused his hearing in on Tim’s heartbeat. After a while, he sighed and forced himself to open his eyes. “It’s probably getting late,” he said reluctantly.
“Hmm?” Tim asked drowsily. “Oh, maybe.”
Kon squeezed Tim's shoulder. “I should probably go,” he said reluctantly.
Tim sighed and lifted his head from Kon’s shoulder. “Superman still needs you in Istanbul?”
Kon chuckled and ducked his head. "Well, no, it's just… If I don't go, I'll probably fall asleep," he admitted sheepishly.
“Oh. Well if that’s all.” Tim shifted himself and the pillows on the bed so that he was lying down with his knee still elevated in its bent position. He turned on his side and looked up at Kon.
“Um.” Kon blinked down at Tim, torn. He really didn’t want to leave, but he also didn’t want to stay and risk pissing off Bruce or Alfred. He hesitated, considering.
Tim smirked. “Batman’s on patrol tonight, and he has monitor duty from dawn until tomorrow afternoon. If that helps.”
Kon shook his head, laughing lightly. He moved, scooting down until he lay next to Tim and then rolled onto his side to face him. “Well. It doesn't hurt,” he said, reaching out and touching Tim’s upper arm. He moved his hand down to cup Tim’s elbow, rubbing his thumb in a small circle. He shifted closer to touch foreheads. “What about Alfred?”
“Alfred likes you.”
Kon smiled and moved his hand from Tim’s elbow around to his back, inching closer as he did so. He murmured, “All right. What about you?” He kissed the side of Tim’s mouth. “If your knee’s hurting, I can go. If you want.”
“I think that would be a bad idea,” Tim said seriously, though there was a wicked smile in his eyes. “Your presence causes my nervous system to give off endorphins, which are a natural pain killer. I think that for the sake of my poor knee, which causes me unending agony, you should stay. If only so that I can sleep tonight.” He put on his most piteous expression and allowed his eyes to well up as he gazed at Kon.
Kon managed-barely-not to laugh, even containing his grin with a sympathetic, concerned look. He bumped noses with Tim and said seriously, “Well, I can’t leave you in unending agony, now can I?”
“I would certainly appreciate it if you could stay and relieve my suffering,” Tim said with a tragic sigh.
Kon laughed this time, shaking his head slightly. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” he teased, and kissed him again. When he broke the kiss, he shut his eyes and leaned against Tim. “You should try to sleep.”
Tim scowled good-naturedly. “I never go to bed this early.”
Kon rubbed Tim’s back in small circles. “I know, me either.” He rolled onto his back, turning his head to continue looking at Tim. “But in Istanbul, it’s already tomorrow.”
Tim made a face and shifted a little so that his head rested on Kon’s chest. “So-coming to see me-did you get up early or stay up late?” He propped himself up a little to look at Kon. “I don’t want you to have to stay here and sleep if you’re not tired.”
Kon laughed and put an arm around Tim. “I don’t think I’ve been to sleep in… two days? Give or take a time zone or two.”
Tim smiled and dropped his head back down. “Okay-just checking,” he yawned. He closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of Kon’s heart and breath.
Kon smiled and leaned his head against Tim's, letting his eyes shut. He felt Tim relax against him and let himself begin to drift toward sleep. "Love you, Tim," he murmured drowsily.
“L’v’you too,” he slurred, smiling sleepily into Kon’s chest. He fell asleep listening to the gentle sound of Kon’s even breathing.
*
When Alfred opened Tim’s bedroom door the following morning with a breakfast tray and a healthy dose of ibuprophen, he had to fall back on years of training and a lifetime spent with Bruce Wayne and his boys to keep from dropping it all on the floor. Rather than the single dark-haired boy he had expected to see in Tim Drake’s bed, he saw two. Curled around each other, though in a way that kept Tim’s injured knee stable and comfortable, were Tim and Kon-El-Superman’s teenaged clone. They lay fully clothed on top of the bed. They had fallen asleep without even pulling the blankets back.
He felt his lips curl in a small smile as he backed silently out of the room. He would return later with breakfast, he thought. Enough for both of them. He always had liked Kon-El.
The title comes from Allen Tate:
They sought the rumor of mortality.
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