Title: Voicemail

Author: Wisiaden

Disclaimer: Don't own anything from the DC universe.

Summary: Kon has a habit of leaving voicemail for Tim.

Character/Pairings: Tim, Kon-el

Warnings: None

Author's Note: This changed a lot when I was writing it. My first version of this was horrible, as was the other attempts. Then, today, I was like hey, I got it. And I wrote it from Kon's point of view. This is un-edited, but I felt like posting it. So, I'll edit this tomorrow or something. Enjoy reading.

The first time Kon wasn't really thinking about it. He had called Tim like he normally did. Kon was stressed and frustrated about the idiots in school because really, who give a damn about school? He didn't give Tim a chance to talk, immediately launching into a tirade about his horrible day and would Tim just steal some kryptonite from daddy Bat's stash and knock him unconscious? It was at the end of the rant that Kon realized that one: Tim hadn't answered and two: that was one long voicemail. Kon just shrugged—he felt better now, and it wasn't like he could undo the call. He promptly forgot all about it till two weekends later when Tim found time to admonish him for leaving such an inane message that ran for thirty two pointless minutes and forty seconds. Kon was too excited over the possibility of kicking some serious butts that Tim's words fell on amazingly deaf superears. (It was a rather boring week in Smallville and, of course, he kicked some serious evil robots' butts.)

Kon didn't remember the second time, but that was okay. Most people could care less about seconds in Kon's opinion. It was the first time and the third time that were more important normally. Who the hell remember seconds? Kon did remember that Tim went all lecture mode on him. Tim could seriously talk for hours, depending on the subject: like telling Kon off for no reason at all.

The third time was memorable. The lecture from the second annoyed Kon enough that he decided he had to screw with Tim. Throughout the day, he left random voicemails for Tim. With Bart's help (oh-dude-that-would-be-awesome-let's-do-it), Kon managed an impressive two hundred and three messages. He heard through the grapevine—Clark—that the big Bat told Tim that the communicator was not a toy and suggested Tim carry a cell for personal use. Oops. Everyone in the tower was happy though—they finally managed to wrestle out Mr. Alvin Draper's personal number.

"You will not call me in any circumstances on my cell unless you absolutely have to," Tim said sternly to Kon and Bart. Everyone else Tim trusted to call as needed. Kon left a voicemail every day for a week and a half just for that.

Over time, Kon got used to leaving voicemails for Tim even though Tim never responded to them. Oh, they talked whenever Tim picked up, but the idiot just wouldn't reply or mention the voicemails. Kon thought it was kind of funny but figured it was just a bat thing.

The voicemail ranged anywhere from a short fifteen seconds (I'm coming over now and you can't say I didn't give you a warning) to an hour long (Aunt Martha's telling me to sleep now). Usually the topics on Kon's part were silly or just complaints about his day or telling Tim he needed to lighten up. There were a few times the subjects got uncomfortable or serious. For example, he worried about getting and being with Cassie. And then the break up. Or how he didn't want to have icky Luthor genes and downplayed his intelligence so he wouldn't seem scary. It was better to be a boy scout Clark than end up killing his friends. And there was a silly time when he told Tim everyone wondered if Tim slept upside down or anything. Tim was acting extremely bat-like that weekend.

During the time Kon "died", he found himself wanting to call Tim, but he couldn't. It made him cranky and disappointed. A voicemail to Tim was the very third thing he did when he came back. The first was getting home, and the second was seeing Tim and everyone in person.

"You didn't change your number while I was gone, did you?"

"No, Kon. I didn't."

So Kon resumed his voicemails again, but it wasn't the same. Tim had changed and he wasn't there for it. It made Kon wondered if he should stop. Tim didn't seem to care, and he probably didn't even listen to Kon's rambling. But Kon decided to trudge on. It was Tim after all. That guy needed someone like Kon to balance him out. Then came the weeks when Gotham was in chaos. Something had happened at Arkham, and Kon worried. Tim didn't respond to his calls, emails or texts and he wasn't allowed to just pop over to Gotham to help. It was as if Tim disappeared. When he finally saw Tim, Kon was flabbergasted and a bit put out. Tim was fine by every indication of appearance. It pissed Kon off.

"This is the last time I'm leaving a message on your cell. You're such an asshole."

And it was hard not to call that week. Kon's fingers would absently reach for his cell and he had to hang up when he heard the "leave a message after the beep". He had to leave the damn thing at home while he went to school just to avoid it. Therefore, it surprised Kon when he saw a missed call and a voicemail from Tim when he came home.

"Kon," Tim's voice sounded through the speaker. "I've always listened to your messages. I've never said anything because I didn't know what to say."

There was a pause and Kon could picture Tim struggling to figure out how to proceed.

"I'm sorry I didn't talk to you—I was honestly busy and the Arkham thing was just a mess."

There was another pause, and Kon could hear Tim running a hand through his hair, full of anxiety.

"I—I saved all your messages. Back-ups too. It—they kept me sane when you were gone, and from—voices in Arkham; couldn't drown them out except for—call me, please?"

Kon could do better than that. Because who needed voicemails when you could fly? Besides, sneaking out after curfew to visit Tim was always worth it.