Chapter Text
Sasha knows with her entire being how fragile life can be. She has seen (in this year alone) more horrors than she can imagine and felt more fear than she ever has before. But when Tim calls her, voice shaking with what she knows is relief and joy and also he’s probably crying, knowing him, all her worry is replaced by a calm determination.
“Tim is coming home today,” she said quietly to the plants in their flat, and then repeated it happily to Martin on the phone, who immediately jumped to come pick her up.
“Jon is doing okay by the way,” Martin said softly as they stopped at a traffic light not far from the hospital. It was pouring outside, and his words were accompanied by the unfortunate squeak of worn-out windshield wipers.
“Bet they fed him better at the hospital than he feeds himself. How’s he look?”
Martin grimaced, “The scars are a lot, if I’m being honest.”
Scars . Sasha hadn’t expected that one, but realized quickly that she should have. She’d seen what the worms were capable of and remembered vividly what they had looked like when the ambulance finally arrived that day. She and Martin had been mostly spared, save for one or two bites. Going from what she’d seen of Tim, delirious as he was, he and Jon would never look the same.
“I can imagine...how are, uh, things between you?”
Martin continued to make a face, which worried Sasha further.
“You know how Jon is. He’s - lets just say his world view was seriously challenged? We are fine , really, truly. He’s really opened up to me, but I can tell he’s…” Martin let his voice fade away as they began driving again. After a moment he continued, a bit rushed, “Stressed, I reckon. I mean, how are things for you and Tim?”
Sasha wasn’t quite sure how to answer that. She knew their relationship was new - Tim had now been in the hospital for over half of the time they’d officially been together - but it didn’t really feel that way. It had been very odd to be without him for so long. Not that Sasha couldn’t take care of herself, or was scared to be on her own, of course. Prentiss being dead finally put an end to much of that fear, though Michael also held fast in her mind. And yet...there was waking up alone and wishing Tim was home. Humming the jingle he’d come up with about watering the plants. Arguing with her over who would foot the next takeaway bill.
He had still called her regularly and texted her when he got bored of quarantine (which was multiple times per day). Sash could tell it was wearing him down, as his jokes got more hollow as the first week passed by, and towards the end of the second he was rarely making them.
Turning to face out of the passenger window, Sasha said, “Tim isn’t himself yet. It’s hard to tell, but I have a feeling we’re fine. I know he’s missed me.”
Martin’s voice ticked upward, “And how do you know that?”
Sasha smiled, “He reminded me constantly.”
Tim was already waiting for them under the large entrance awning, bandages covering parts of his face and a bag of his things slung over his shoulder. There were noticeable bags under his eyes, too, and Sasha felt her heart squeeze.
“Sasha and the Martin-mobile! What a welcome party,” Tim said, amused. He dropped his bag when Sasha was finally within arms reach, pulling her into a tight hug. She reciprocated in kind, trying her best to stay calm as she held him tighter. “You don’t know how much I needed this,” he whispered, clearly only to her.
As they parted, Sasha gave him a quick kiss and said, “Me too.”
“Alright lovebirds ,” Martin said from the car, “I am not putting the car in park so hurry up.”
“Afraid she won’t start back up again, huh?” Tim laughed, reclaiming his bag and climbing into the backseat.
“No, this is just a pick-up area so we aren’t allowed to idle.”
“Suuuure it is! But cops would take one look at me and say ‘ oi, that bloke’s been attacked by flesh eating worms, better let him off with a warning’ , so.”
“Just show them our Institute IDs and they’d go running,” Sasha chimed in, trying to lighten their train of thought.
“Fair yeah, nobody wants to get sectioned.”
They continued bantering about the best ways to get out of parking tickets the entire way back to Tim and Sasha’s flat.
“Have fun going home to your husband!” Tim hollered as Martin pulled away.
Once inside, Tim was ecstatic. “Oh how I’ve missed you, plants! Did you miss me too?”
“I’m sure they did, Tim.”
He pretended to take offense at that, and clicking his tongue, responded, “Of course they did, Sasha, they were stuck with only you for company.” Tim then went to put his bag down in the bedroom, and Sasha followed, unsure of what to say. Maybe he just wants to forget this ever happened. “I’m going to change, I think, take these bloody mummy wraps off of my beautiful face.”
“Oh, yeah okay.” Sasha still wasn’t sure how she’d feel to see him without them. She thought grimly of how Martin had described Jon’s scars, and shaking her head, went to get a glass of water. It’s not like she wasn’t excited to have Tim back at home - she was thrilled , and it finally felt as if reality had returned to their lives. She could almost pretend that Tim and Jon had been hospitalized for a mundane workplace injury, some incident with a stapler or something. Almost.
Nervously sipping, she heard Tim rustling in the other room. He was talking to himself too, muttering at first and then loudly cursing every once in a while.
When he emerged, Sasha couldn’t help but gasp.
“I...I know it’s kinda weird.” Tim said, sheepish and unwilling to meet her eyes. He was in a more characteristic getup now, and the corny muscle tank from his gym was showing off some serious scarring. At a distance, Sasha could even pretend they were freckles, maybe moles, but there was no mistaking what she already knew.
In a way Sasha couldn’t explain, seeing the rounded scars just thrust her mind into images of the worms themselves. Thousands of tiny, crawling masses, latching onto her and digging into exposed skin. Fast, silent, dangerous. Martin, corkscrew in hand, digging out a lucky worm before it could encase itself in his skin. She couldn’t quite hear the yelling, but she could definitely smell the fire extinguisher.
“I’m not used to it either, honestly…”
Sasha hadn’t remembered to vocalize, and now Tim was staring. Oh fuck.
“Tim, it’s okay. It’s - you couldn’t have done anything different.”
“Except I have to live with this,” he said, voice raising slightly. He gestured to his face, one side of which was excessively dotted with worm holes.
Sasha closed the distance between them, moving to take his hand. His skin wasn’t quite healed completely, the shiny scar tissue still pink in places. It was weird, but this wasn’t the end of the world. Her stomach churned slightly, trying to chase away visions of the things that had left those marks on his face and arms and undoubtedly more of his body she still hadn’t seen.
“You’re still pretty cute, you know,” She managed, swallowing as she reached her free hand up to cup his cheek. “Bet they don’t look as sexy on Jon.”
Tim laughed hollowly, his eyes growing wet again. “Oh no, can’t outdo the bossman, what would Elias think?”
Wistful, Sasha smiled, “I don’t give a damn what Elias thinks. I know I’m right.”
They both fell silent for a moment. Sasha was trying to find something encouraging to say, but Tim beat her to the punch.
“If you...seriously Sash. I had enough time to think this over. If you don’t want me like this , I’d understand.”
Furrowing her brow, she immediately shot back, “Fuck’s sake Tim. Of course I want you.” She didn’t bother to wait for another self deprecating comment, instead leaning up to kiss him in earnest. He smiled against her lips, and she counted that as a victory. As they parted she added, “You think I was lying? It might be awhile before the worms leave my nightmares, sure, but you look quite good, Tim. The scars add a little...oh I don’t know...bad boy energy?”
She knew she’d gotten him there, feeling his arm relax around her.
“Didn’t take you for the bad boy type, Sash.”
“I am only human.”
-
Tim really wished his brain would just calm down. His first full day back in their flat had been fine, truly fine , and he had nothing to worry about. So what if it took time to get used to his new reflection in the mirror? If Sasha still loved him - and oh how much I still love Sasha, trying to be so strong for the rest of us - then he was sure he’d be okay eventually.
It was her idea after all, late at night when neither of them could sleep, to invite Jon and Martin over again the next day. She had admitted to him that she hadn’t really been keeping tabs on Jon while they’d been out, instead relying on Martin’s occasional check-ins. They had turned to talking of work, and how neither of them felt like they could leave even though they wanted to. Tim hadn’t been able to voice his feeling that they had been tied together somehow. Shared trauma did that to people, he knew.
After losing Danny, he was grimly happy to not have to go through more trauma alone.
And so now he was waiting, calmly, to let his coworkers in when they arrived. Sasha was taking a last minute shower, and he had already set the Wii up. Tsk, tsk Nintendo. Why is there no worm scar facial feature available for Miis?
Knowing Jon would have little interest in doing so himself, Tim stopped trying to add scars to his avatar and created a new one for his boss.
Before he could choose a favorite color for the thing (physical features are easy, of course, it's the subjective part that takes time), there was a knock at the door.
“Would you look who it is!” Tim exclaimed as if there had been any question at all who was there.
Martin was smiling, and Jon was...yes Jon was trying to smile too, which was more effort than usual.
“Hello Tim,” he said, scratching at his jumper ineffectually, “Good to see you out of quarantine.”
Tim noticed that Jon’s scarring was more severe than his own, as he had known it would be from what he remembered of the original injuries. In a weird way, it sort of fit his ‘aloof professor’ look. Despite his opinions of Jon (both positive and negative), Tim sincerely hoped Jon was handling this situation well. He definitely wouldn’t admit it, but he also hoped Martin was helping Jon as much as Sasha was helping him.
“Yeah bossman, glad you made it. Come on in, come on. Martin you have to make your Mii - also pick Jon a shirt color.”
Hanging his jacket, Martin chuckled. “If you insist.”
“Oh we insist,” Sasha said, finally emerging from the bedroom, “Sorry I’m late. Indoor gardening accident earlier.”
“How does one have a gardening incident ?”
“Jon, have you never seen dirt in your life?”
Tim didn’t care to hear an answer to that, and went to explain, “I definitely did not -”
Sasha immediately interrupted to correct him. “Tim upended a whole bag of potting soil this afternoon.”
Sasha had gotten a new fern while he was gone, but had saved re-potting it until Tim came home. And he really hadn’t meant to make a mess. These things just happen.
While Martin set off to make his own cartoon likeness, Tim grabbed drinks for everybody from the kitchen. After a moment of consideration, he precariously added an extra beer bottle so Jon could be prepared with two from the start.
“What...game have we decided on for tonight?” Their boss questioned, settling into the chair more deeply. Unlike previous game nights, Martin had taken a pillow from the couch and put himself on the floor in front of him. Jon will be on the couch in no time .
“Figured we could stick to the basics. No torturing you with Mario Kart this time.”
“And what are the basics, Stoker?”
“Wii Sports!”
Jon made a face that Tim couldn’t read, and accepted the double beer offering.
“Any requests? I don’t think we have enough nunchucks for boxing though,” Sasha winced, picking up her controller as she nestled into Tim on the couch.
“Tennis would be fun, we could do teams that way,” Tim laughed, “Nothing like a double date absolutely dominating Wimbledon. Wii-mbledon, actually.”
He got a Wiimote to the gut for that one, but Martin selected tennis nonetheless.
“Jon, you don’t have to get up if you don’t want to,” he said, standing, “But I have a feeling Tim and Sasha are very good at this, so I’m going to.”
Tim knew that he and Sash were in fact good, but didn’t feel the need to rub it in.
“I think I’ll be quite fine sitting, thank you Martin.”
Sasha looked at him, her devious smile returning as she pulled them to their feet, her hand low on his back. “We can stand with you Martin,” she said, without changing her focus. Tim cared way too much about winning at party games, but he decided in that moment that he cared much more about Sasha looking at him like that.
It did not take long for Tim to also decide that he had picked the wrong sport. Jon and Martin served first and hadn’t lost a service game. With a practiced dexterity, Jon flicked his wrist idly while the others did as the game had intended, flailing about the room.
After the first match had ended overwhelmingly in their favor, Martin turned to him and just said, petulantly, “Excuse me?”
“What?”
“Jon, how are you - sorry, you’re awful at Mario Kart but good at this ?”
Jon smiled fully now, perhaps for the first time since Tim had known him. Taking a swig of his drink, he simply said, “You insisted Tim and Sasha were good, so I didn’t go easy on them.”
“We are good, thank you very much,” Sasha interjected, “You are something else.”
Tim chugged his beer as Martin started the second row.
It was hard to tell if they had needed to warm up or if Jon was going easier, but they managed to get at least a close game going. Jon had started to move more at least, adding to the overall chaos of the room. It wasn’t quite as loud as when they raced each other, but being on teams allowed for an awkward chorus of yelling each other's names.
“Boss, boss, booosssss why didn’t you tell me you had superb skills such as these?” Tim said, a little breathless from the last few points. They had lost despite having an almost-comeback, but it was hard to feel bad about losing to such stiff competition.
Jon laughed, continuing to cooly sip at his beer. He hadn’t even touched the second one yet.
As the night went on, it became apparent Jon really was only great at tennis - he was just good at everything else. Average even.
“I just want to say I beat my boss in Wii baseball, is that too much to ask?”
“Perhaps next time, Tim. It’s getting rather late.”
“Wow I didn’t even notice the time,” Sasha said, checking her phone, “You’re welcome to stay of course, but -”
“It’s alright Sasha,” Martin said softly, “Now that I don’t have to go back to the Institute it isn’t the worst thing in the world to go home at a reasonable hour.”
Tim knew he couldn’t argue with that, and happily helped them out.
“I’m holding you to that, Jon! You will face me again!”
Martin and Jon were holding hands as they walked down the hall towards the elevator, neither of them bothering to turn around to face Tim again as they laughed.
“Goodnight!” Sasha hollered after them, forcing Tim back inside.
“I guess we shouldn’t be too surprised he’s good at Wii...something, right?”
“My money’s on that one ex he’s still friends with? She must have something to do with it.”
Sasha quirked her brow as if she was thinking, but didn’t explain further.
“Sash you can’t just leave me with that!”
“Martin swore me to secrecy, get him to tell you.”
Tim realized happily, as they dressed for bed, that they hadn’t spoken of worms or work at all that night.
“Thanks for suggesting this tonight, I - we all needed that I think.”
“Shush, you don’t have to thank anyone,” Sasha said over her shoulder as she shrugged into one of his old shirts, “Besides, we owed Martin for transport yesterday.”
“I suppose. But I never would have thought of it, and you did, and you’re you , so…” Tim knew he didn’t have to explain himself, and Sasha simply smiled as she went to brush her teeth.
He had missed this the most while in the hospital - sharing his space with her, curling up with her each night, even the easy conversation. Tim could get a taste of her over the phone, even texting, but it was never the same. They fit together too well. Falling into bed after also taking the time to wash up (worm scars might be growing on him, but they still need cared for), he wondered how he spent months sleeping next to her without touching. Immediately Sasha reached for him and tangled their legs and weeks later Tim still got a stupid grin on his face just from holding her.
“I’m really happy you’re home, Tim.”
“I’m really happy you moved in,” he said with a laugh, earning himself a kiss on the cheek.
“I love you too.”