ratmel

“ROBIN!” came the shout in an oh-so-familiar and equally missed voice. Tim was in enough pain that he wasn’t sure he wasn’t just imagining his fondest wish before he passed out.

“Nightwing! You’re early,” Jason said, a malicious grin in his voice, and Tim’s hope plummeted, even while his heart raced. Jason wasn’t as predictable now that he’d been dead, and if Dick wasn’t prepared for it…

Tim heard the sound of a batarang being readied, and Jason’s voice growling, “Give us a moment…” He tensed in anticipation of the throw, hoping Dick knew to dodge instead of pulling some of his fancy heroic moves.

There was a bright light, but no sound of the batarang hitting, and Jason’s voice, puzzled even in his rage, said, “…Grayson?”

Tim managed to prop himself up, squinting through his blood-soaked mask in time to see Kon. He looked nothing like Conner Kent, and every inch like Superboy, in his ‘uniform’ of a Super tee and jeans. There was a scowl on his face as he stared down Jason, while checking on Tim out of the corner of his eye.

Tim felt a curl of nothingness wrap around his body, and let himself relax minutely, knowing that even if he was currently in a great deal of pain, Kon would keep Jason from hurting him further.

“Always read the label,” Kon said, glaring daggers, shiruken, and all manner of sharp and pointy things at Jason.

Apparently, several months living the civilian life hadn’t damaged Kon’s ability to quip. Tim’s laugh came out sounding like more of a gasp, and it hurt so much he didn’t do it again.

Or maybe it was just the sight of the blood he was coughing up that curtailed his humor.

Tim’s hold on consciousness started to loosen, and he found himself fading in and out through Kon and Jason’s fight. There were a lot of meta-powered punches, and at one point Jason stole his dropped bo staff and tried to use it to block Kon’s shots. It was the smartest move Jason made the whole fight; Tim’s bo was made out of an alloy that was strong enough to withstand most meta attacks.

Kon’s TTK was able to rip it out of Jason’s hands even in mid-motion. Then he began using his fists – obviously enhanced with his TTK, or they never would have dented Jason’s armor quite that easily – to hit Jason. There weren’t many non-metas that repeated blunt force trauma wouldn’t take down.

When Jason had finally had it beaten into his head – and every other part of his body – that Kon could and would eliminate him with extreme prejudice, he used what little of his common sense had been brought back to life with him, and decided the better part of living to fight another day was retreat. Then Jason tossed out a handful of smoke pellets, and exited via the window.

All was quiet for a handful of moments, save for the pining of cooling metal and the rustle of settling cinderblock. And then Kon was crouched on the floor, and had pulled Tim half into his lap, burying his face in Tim’s blood-soaked hair. Tim found himself pulled into what would have assuredly been a crushing hug, had Kon not been doing his best not to put pressure on his wounds.

“Kon…?” Tim asked, needing to be sure.

“You’re okay, Tim,” Kon said. “I’ve got you.”

Tim wondered if Kon had X-Rayed him and seen a lack of internal injuries, or if he was just speaking what he wished. Either way, it was good to have Kon back. “Kon…” he said, one hand shakily coming up to caress Kon’s cheek, where a tear had fallen. More were brimming in his eyes, silent testament to Kon’s worry over his condition.

“God, Tim, I…” Kon shuddered, arms closing tighter together around him. His lips trembled where they pressed scant millimeters away from Tim’s bruised jaw.

“I know,” Tim said, voice rough, bowed, but not broken. He placed one hand on Kon’s chin, forcing the other teen to look at him. “I know, Kon.”

They clung to each other, exchanged reassuring words and touches, and finally Kon pressed a kiss to Tim’s head, before carrying him to the infirmary.

Tim let his eyelids droop, body preparing to rest, secure in the fact that he was safe. Everything else could wait. Kon was back where he belonged; that was all that mattered.

And despite everything, Tim had never felt safer than in Kon’s arms.

Tags: dcu comics, fanfic, gen, jason todd, kon-el, slash, teen titans, tim drake, tim/kon
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