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Getting the call that Tim is injured is never easy. But hearing the news moments after discovering the ring in his pocket while picking up their shared bedroom hits harder. The emotional whiplash is near enough to send Kon into a tailspin.
Kon flies to the watchtower and has Oracle read him in on the mission while he waits for doctors to stabilize Tim. Some asshole shot off a rocket launcher into the fray and Tim had been caught in the crossfire. As soon as they could, the team flew Tim back to the Justice League base. Tim’s head injuries from the concussive blast would only be worsened by returning to earth, so for now, Tim lays in a medical cot in the medbay in the watchtower. Kon paces in the hall until, finally, they let him into the room.
Tim is attempting to fight the medical staff, refusing to let them treat him. He has broken restraints still dangling from his wrists. Kon immediately reaches out with his TTK to brush over Tim’s hand, just to let him know that he’s not alone. Tim stills, waiting. Kon slowly enters his line of sight and forms an invisible hand to rest in Tim’s. Slowly, Tim’s breathing evens out and he relaxes back onto his pillows. “You’re okay, baby. You’re alright.” Kon murmurs, near silently. Tim does not have super hearing like Kon does, but the tension leaks out of his body nonetheless.
One of the staff members, masked and donning PPE, slides a stool over to Tim’s bedside for Kon. He gladly takes his place next to Tim and gently takes Tim’s hands in his own. The TTK hand starts caressing Tim’s hair, combing through the tangled strands. “You’re safe, my love.” Kon whispers, trying to reassure him. Tim turns Kon’s hand over to write with his finger in Kon’s palm. Tim writes in Kon’s palm with his left and taps with his right hand on Kon’s elbow to confirm the correct interpretation of his words. Slowly, Tim spells out migraine, and hurt, and concussed. Kon holds in a laugh. He wants to say Yes, dear, you are very concussed! Kon had used his x-ray vision on Tim the moment he entered the room and confirmed the head injury as well as several cracked ribs. But Tim would not appreciate hearing Kon saying it just to tease him right now. The time for teasing will be later. “What’s our level today, sweet pea?” Tim taps Kon’s palm twice, indicating minimal verbal communication. Kon nods and relates this to the medical staff.
About twenty minutes later, the bats descend on the watchtower. Kon can hear their heartbeats coming. He murmurs a quiet heads up to Tim who acknowledges it with a tap on Kon’s elbow.
Tim has trauma from the whole joker junior mess and does not like medical settings. All the sensors and wires make him think of the electric torture and waterboarding Joker put him through. Adding the chaos of his family, especially in larger numbers, can be overstimulating. Usually, a heads up and time to prepare himself is enough for Tim. But with the brain scramble, it may be too much. Dick, Steph, and Duke were on the team fighting when Tim got injured. They protected him when he went down and pulled him out of harm’s way. Kon will thank them later. Tim will too, in his own weird way. So it's probably everyone else descending upon Tim's room, minus the three that are finishing the mission.
When the majority of Tim’s family files into the room, Kon has to step back for the medical staff to treat Tim, whose heart rate gets far too high. Tim continues to escalate his freak out until Kon reaches out with his TTK, keeping contact.
“What are you doing?” Bruce growls, cowl askew. Tim glares at Bruce. Or maybe he’s squinting because of the lights. “Can we dim the lights a bit please?” Kon asks one of the nurses. She agrees and does so. “I’m helping to keep him calm. You know how he hates medical situations. He’d rather slink away like a sick cat than let himself be cared for.” Kon explains quietly. Tim harrumphs indignantly from his place on the bed, but he is laying back onto the pillows again.
“He likes it when I read to him, dontcha honeybuns?” Kon calls out, gently squeezing the TTK hand in Tim’s. “When we have rough days, one of us read to the other. We’re about halfway through Grapes of Wrath. We both like Steinbeck’s use of figurative language.” Tim taps his right hand on the railing of the medical cot in confirmation. Tim used to hate the pet names. Now they calm him down, let him know that this is really Kon and not a hallucination. Apparently, hallucination Kon in Tim’s head doesn’t use pet names. Ever since Tim admitted that, Kon has made it a point to use them whenever he can. Even if Cassie and Bart fake gag at them.
Jason hands Kon their copy of Grapes of Wrath that Kon had been too panicked to grab before he left the nest. Kon largely ignores Tim’s family as they talk to the medical staff and berate the team, still fighting on some planet, for answers.
Later, after about two chapters, Tim’s eyes begin to droop. Kon makes a point to tell Tim that: “I’m proud of you for communicating what you could, Tim. But you should rest now.” Normally, when Tim has bad days and goes nonverbal, there are varying levels of communication he’s able to use. ASL, morse code, writing, typing, and even pointing at their picture chart. Other times, Tim is able to be verbal, just not able to find the word. He’ll grunt or growl, sigh, and maybe even just yell in frustration. Kon is happy that Tim feels safe enough to share these days with him. Kon remembers how Tim was when they first met. Those early years as Robin and Superboy specifically. The Drakes had raised Tim to believe that these types of days were shameful. That Tim needed to be able to communicate “normally” all the time.
Personally, Kon thinks normal is overrated. Typical, especially when it comes to medical conditions, seems to be Tim’s preference. But Kon doesn’t face the same type of struggles as Tim. His body heals faster, if he even gets injured. If Kon feels a bit under the weather, he can go take a flight somewhere sunny and clear his head. Tim doesn’t have that luxury. Years of fighting and grinding through injuries have left him in constant low levels of pain, less mobility, and days when even his brain is not able to work the way he wants it to. Kon marvels at the strength it must take to keep living through it all.
Kon treasures the vulnerabilities Tim entrusts him with. He knows just how seriously Tim feels about being vulnerable. Kon would never dream of asking Tim to hang up his cape for good. It means too much to Tim. But Kon will be there for every migraine, every medbay stay, every day Tim will let him be. And as Tim slowly falls asleep, Kon knows that he never wants to miss any of this.
Tim seems to feel the same, if the ring Kon found in the pocket of his jacket the other day means what he thinks it does. Tim’s gonna be so pissed his plan to propose got spoiled by some jackass with a rocket launcher. Maybe Kon can make it up to him by making his favorite breakfast when he’s ready to come home.
Damian is pestering the medical professionals in the hallway, supervised by Cass, who will ensure that any death threats go unfulfilled. Damian is very protective of Timothy now. It’s amazing how far the two have come. Since all the facts have been gathered to the bats satisfaction, most of Tim’s loved ones sit around his room. Kon can’t blame them for wanting to be close. Kon certainly isn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Jason fills in Bruce at some point. Duke, Steph, and Dick are implementing one of Tim’s contingencies. It’s going better than anticipated and they’ll be back from space soon. Cassie and Bart are in the corner, trying to stay quiet. Concussion and all. Bruce, Alfred, and Jason are fussing about the room. Trying to stay busy, Kon would guess.
Kon is effectively cornered by Jason and Alfred, who want to know about how often Tim has days like this one. Or rather, how often he has days like this without the precipitate head injury.
“Care to fill us in?” Jason whispers harshly. Kon knows he’s just being protective and has to physically focus on not rolling his eyes. The same man that tried to beat and scare Tim out being Robin is cornering his boyfriend about his mental health and well-being. Hypocrite.
“Less often in the past few years.” Kon hedges. It’s really Tim’s story to share with his family. Tim probably wouldn’t have a face to face conversation about it, he’d probably type up a report and upload it to the batcomputer buried in hundreds of files.
“Did you know that we aren’t allowed to read Pride and Prejudice because I apparently don’t do the voices ‘like Jason does’?” Kon asks, pivoting the conversation. Jason’s ears go pink and somewhere in the room, the other siblings snicker. Jason doesn’t seem like he’s going to get a comeback out in a timely fashion so Kon takes pity on him.
“Thank you for being there with him when I wasn’t able to be. I know it meant a lot to him.” Kon says. Red hood gapes at Kon like a fish out of water before sputtering out something about the psych stay Tim had after losing Kon, Bart, and Jack in quick succession. Kon just nods and claps a hand on Jason’s back in thanks before returning it to hold Tim's hand again.
Duke, Steph, and Dick chose that moment to come barreling down the hall towards Tim’s room. Kon uses his TTK to slow them down, hoping they’d get the message to be quieter. At this rate, they’d wake up Tim, who is supposed to be resting. Kon can tell by his breathing and heart rate that Tim is actually pretending to sleep. But at least his eyes are closed so Kon counts it as a win. Kon goes back reading to Tim in a hushed whisper, absent-mindedly stroking small circles with his TTK on the inside of Tim’s wrist.
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About three days later, Tim is cleared to go home. He still has to follow concussion protocol until his symptoms alleviate, then he is to be re-examined. Tim begrudgingly accepts after Cass mean mugs Tim over the doctor’s shoulder.
Kon takes Tim home, back to his nest. And he stays the whole time. Tim prefers to hide himself away from most people, except Kon apparently. Then Tim becomes clingy like velcro. Latching onto Kon and refusing to be let go. Kon even hoists Tim on his hip using TTK while using his hands to do various chores around the apartment. Tim is too clingy to put up much of a protest, so Kon is using this opportunity to clean the place top to bottom. Ma Kent would be proud. And also possibly disgusted by the state the place was in before Kon began cleaning.
Bruce visits after about eight days of Kon only leaving the city for flights to soak up the sun. He awkwardly stands outside the door until Tim gives Kon permission to let him inside. Then, Bruce just sits on the couch and broods for a while. Kon lets him. Tim eventually has to leave to shower so Kon goes back to the couch to check in with the man.
“Thank you for taking care of him. I know he doesn’t like to depend on people.” Bruce starts gently. “I hope you know that when I say no metas in Gotham. I do not mean you or the rest of Tim’s friends. You’re important to him. I don’t want to stand in the way of that.” Kon balks. Whatever he thought Bruce would say, it wasn’t that. “Um, thanks?” Kon replies awkwardly.
They sit together in the living room as Star Trek reruns play quietly in the background.
Tim exits the shower, dresses, and rejoins their little awkward watch party. Tim rolls his eyes at an awkward Bruce.
“I’m concussed, not dying of cancer. Quit looking at me like I’m about to break.” Tim exclaims, exasperated. The sentiment is undercut by his fond tone. There’s no heat in it. Bruce tilts his head at Tim, then slowly turns to Kon, as if examining the half-kryptonian for the first time.
“Alfred will want to save the date as soon as possible.” Bruce murmurs, more at Tim than Kon. Tim squawks in betrayal. Kon laughs. “I already know about the ring, Tim.” Kon placates, running a TTK hand through the still damp strands of Tim’s hair. Tim melts into the touch.
Bruce grins, like the cat that caught the canary. His expression drops as he locks eyes with Tim. “I hope you’ll invite the family?” Bruce asks. Tim nods. “Of course I will. And I will be asking Cass to wrangle all of you into your best behavior. We need to keep chaos to a minimum.” Bruce nods sagely. “She’s the best person for the job.”
Tim shuffles over to a cabinet and reveals a secret drawer. He pulls out what looks to be a seating chart, color swatches, and the contact information for several dress shops which specialize in matrimonial attire. Kon grins.
“Tim, sweetheart, no plotting. The doctors said so.” He calls gently. Tim freezes in place. “You don’t want to see?” He asks, doing his best puppy dog eyes. Bruce lets out a wounded sound like the expression punched him in the gut.
Kon, used to Tim’s puppy dog eyes, just wraps him up in his arms. Tim sets the papers down on the side table. “Of course, I’d love to see your plans for our wedding babe, but you’re under strict orders to forgo planning. I don’t want to call Cass on you. Plus there is the matter of actually asking?” Kon reminds his partner lovingly.
“This is so not how I wanted to ask you.” Tim grumbles. Kon smirks.
“So you had a plan?” He asks. “Why don’t we rest on the couch and you can tell me about it? I’m sure your father can see himself out, can’t you Bruce?”
Bruce takes his leave. They talk for a while about Tim’s grandiose plans for the proposal. Kon nudges Tim, avoiding his still bruised ribs, and says, “Y’know as long as you don’t ask via jumbotron or whatever, I’ll say yes.” Tim’s smile scrunches up his whole face. “Heard.” Tim replies, laying his head on Kon’s chest to rest.
Tim falls asleep on top of Kon on the couch with reruns of Star Trek on in the background. Marriage won’t change much about their relationship. Tim and Kon will still read to each other on bad days. They’ll still sleep on the couch together. Kon will be there for Tim, and Tim will be there for Kon in return, just as they always have.
Adding a ring and a piece of paper will only change things for them legally. But Kon is more excited that Tim wants this for always. Just like he does.