Misty had been his first concern. After all, she'd been the one who just a few weeks before had been champing at the bit to go after him. As soon as he comes out with the size, the gender, the description of the hands, he starts analyzing-
Which goes right out the window when Tim continues and gets to the part about cutting his tongue out. And the anger burns hot for a moment before flipping over into the cold, seething rage that has only been seen by one person ever.
Jon doesn't get angry. So seeing that shift on his face, that sudden coldness practically radiating from him is all sorts of concerning, and he shifts to face Jon fully, like he's going to bloody well bodyslam him into the bed to keep him there if he has to.
"Jon, it's fine. There's other people looking into it, and I'm okay now."
If Jon was upset, there'd be a blustery lie and some fussing about how 'it's not fine' but right now, instead, there is a single glance up, meeting Tim's eyes, and a nod. A simple nod.
"Yes, of course."
He closes his eyes and makes his shoulder sink again, lets himself lean up against Tim. It's fine. All forgotten. Tim's fine now. Obviously.
He can't help but squint at Jon, for letting that go so easily. Because that- just agreeing with him? Is definitely not how Jon rolls. Jon doesn't let things go. This is not dropped, and there's a part of Tim that is pre-emptively despairing for whatever poor bastard did this to him, for having upset Jon about it.
He just lets a long sigh out, and slides back down into a more comfortable position, so he can wrap his arm around Jon's shoulder again and relax into it.
"I'm just glad I've got you back," he says quietly.
Tim doesn't bother with more words. He just leans another soft kiss again Jon's hair, and starts gently carding through it with his fingers again. Something to coax his friend into much-needed sleep.
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Which goes right out the window when Tim continues and gets to the part about cutting his tongue out. And the anger burns hot for a moment before flipping over into the cold, seething rage that has only been seen by one person ever.
"I see."
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"Jon, it's fine. There's other people looking into it, and I'm okay now."
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"Yes, of course."
He closes his eyes and makes his shoulder sink again, lets himself lean up against Tim. It's fine. All forgotten. Tim's fine now. Obviously.
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He just lets a long sigh out, and slides back down into a more comfortable position, so he can wrap his arm around Jon's shoulder again and relax into it.
"I'm just glad I've got you back," he says quietly.
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I don't like who I am without you all.
"As am I."
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Tim doesn't bother with more words. He just leans another soft kiss again Jon's hair, and starts gently carding through it with his fingers again. Something to coax his friend into much-needed sleep.
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Peacefully.