[id: a digital drawing of jonathan sims from the magnus archives. he is depicted as a pakistani-iranian person with brown skin, a long black braid with gray streaks, and a beard, wearing black shoes and pants and a purple long sleeve shirt. he also has two helix piercings and a lobe piercing. he is sitting outside on a ring made of stacked rocks, trees and buildings can be seen in the background. he has his left foot over his right knee, his left elbow propped on his left knee as he rests his chin against his hand. in his right hand, he is holding a cane with a wooden fritz handle and purple floral pattern down the length. end id.]
Now that he was closer Jon could tell it was a bad day. He could see the tension in Tim’s jaw, the way he swayed ever so slightly when he stood before righting himself, the fake smile he’s plastered on.
or: Tim's having flare up so they have a movie night.
Set vaguely in S1 or S2 but Sasha doesn't get not!them-ed.
As much as Tim joked around and slacked off, he was very rarely late. Especially not almost two hours late. Jon tried to relax as much as possible but with the concerned glances from Martin and Sasha every few minutes through the window in his door and the constant ticking of the clock in his office it was getting harder by the minute. But he had to stay professional, Elias couldn’t know about their relationship. Jon wasn’t ashamed in the slightest, he just didn’t want to get them all fired. Although, that didnt mean he hadn't sent off quite a few messages to him. All of which were unanswered. He was typing another when he heard a voice curse at the top of the stairs. Trying to look as casual as possible but presumably failing miserably, Jon grabbed his cane and rushed to the bottom of the stairs.
“Tim?” Through the fluorescent lights he could barely make out Tim sitting at the top of the stairs, crutches lying next to him. “Do you need a hand?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice. They’d all agreed that none of them would make a big deal if Jon or Tim were using their aids. He wanted to respect that as best he could since he knew how bad it felt when people would keep pointing it out.
“Ah, no need. I got this!” Jon watched as Tim slowly slid himself and his crutches down each step before using them to stand. Now that he was closer Jon could tell it was a bad day. He could see the tension in Tim’s jaw, the way he swayed ever so slightly when he stood before righting himself, the fake smile he’s plastered on.
“Well, that was one way to do that. I’m sure Martin or Sasha would’ve been able to help.”
“Na, it’s alright. This building’s just inaccessible as shit. I doubt we would’ve been able to all fit together on those weird ass stairs anyway.”
“Well since you’re here now, there’s a statement on your desk I’d like you to look into after you’ve finished compiling the research from yesterday.” Putting his professionalism on as much as he could, Jon went back to his office leaving Tim to get settled at his desk. He shot Martin a quick text to keep an eye on him and tried his best to continue with his work.
Recording a few statements helped distract him for a bit even if he knew that they were all fake. Floating lights, a ‘disappearing’ man and walkie talkie feedback that sounded like words. It wasn’t long until a knock at his door brought him back to the present. “Come in.”
“Hey,” Martin, of course. “I’m going to the breakroom to make myself a cuppa, do you want one?” Jon never understood why Martin always lowered himself when he entered a room. It was like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible.
“Yes, thank you. I’ll come along, I need to stretch my legs anyway.” Perfect, a completely professional reason to talk to him in relative privacy. “How has he been?” Jon set his cane beside him as he sat at the breakroom table, watching Martin go through the practiced motions of making tea.
“I’m not sure, he looks a bit peaky but he seems alright.” It was days like these that Jon struggled with boundaries the four of them had set. He knows that if Tim needs help, he’ll ask for it. But he also knows how stubborn you can become when you’re in pain, how frustrating it can be, how hard it is to ask for help. “In other news, I was thinking of having a movie night at mine tonight? Tim and Sasha are down, fancy it?” Jon brought himself back, this is something he could do. Something that would help.
“That sounds lovely but why don’t we have it at mine?” Jon took the cup Martin handed him and sipped, perfect as always.
“Uh, sure.” Martin looked a bit hesitant, probably because Jon usually doesn’t offer up his flat if Martin’s already offered. They all know Jon prefers their flats to his because then he can kidnap a jumper or cardigan to feel safer once he has to leave.
“It’s just, my flat’s closer and I think it’s best for Tim and I since there’s a lift.” He wasn’t lying persay, the lift would be better for the two of them but that wasn’t the only reason. He had supplies for bad days at his house. Heat pads, painkillers, ice packs, you name it. And he knew Tim was going to need it. He’d crash soon enough, most likely when they were all finally settled at Jon’s, so he needed to be able to help once Tim let them.
“Oh right, of course. Sounds great, I’ll let them know.”
-----
It wasn’t long until Tim popped into Jon’s office, struggling with the door slightly. “I’ve got that research for you, Boss.” Jon gestured to one of the seats in front of his desk which Tim took quickly. He pulled the file from his bag once he sat down and had his hands free again.
“Tim, I- um. Is there anything i can do?” Jon tried to be as gentle as possible, not wanting to sound patronising.
“I’m not sure what you mean.” So he was still in the stubborn stage, great. “I’m all set for the last hour work wise if that’s what you’re asking.” He stood and Jon could see him hide a wince.
“Okay, I’ll let you get on then. Thank you again for the research.” All Jon got in return was a nod before Tim was out the door as fast as he could be.
-----
The journey to Jon’s flat was nice for once, mostly due to Sasha driving them all instead of having to take the tube. But even just sitting mostly in silence it was comfortable. As soon as they were in his flat he wandered off to get changed into comfier clothes, urging them all to do the same. Once they were all back in the living room he spotted Tim in a familiar jumper, specifically the one Jon was looking for as it was nice and cosy but he left it with Tim. He looked like he needed it more than he did.
Stocked up with snacks and tea, bundled up in Jon’s duvet that he’d asked Martin to bring through, movie night began. After finishing La La Land per Sasha’s request and Howl’s Moving Castle per Martin’s request they decided to order some takeout.
“Tim, do you just want your usual?” Sasha was over at the table, notepad in hand with everyone's orders but his. The only answer she got however was a groan. Jon gently moved him off of his shoulder where he had been resting his head and it was only then he felt the heat coming off Tim’s skin.
“Hey, sleepyhead. Can you wake up for a minute for me please?” Jon watched him blink slowly and he swore he had fallen in love with him all over again.
“Is he alright?” Martin moved the duvet off of their laps and knelt at the feet of Jon and Tim. “Love, you’ve got a bit, uh-” Martin's gaze fell to Jon’s shoulder and when he followed he saw what Martin was clearly holding back a laugh at. Tim had drooled over his shirt.
“Martin, can you go into the cabinet in the kitchen, grab some painkillers, water and the thermometer for me please?” Martin’s face dropped so Jon rushed to calm him. “He’s okay, I think it's just a flare up. Take a breath, Love.” Jon watched him do as asked and head over to the kitchen. “Sasha, just order him his usual as long as it’s not too spicy.”
“Gotcha, I’ll be back in a minute.” She placed a kiss on Jon’s cheek then Tim’s, frowning slightly at the heat before heading to the bedroom to order.
“So, how are you really feeling? All of it, okay?” Jon kept his voice low and soft, channeling all the times Martin had calmed him down from a nightmare, all the times Sasha had comforted when the knock on his office door sounded too familiar, all the times Tim had helped him home once everyone had left because the pain was so bad.
"I'm alright, just being a drama queen as usual." Jon watched as Tim’s eyes filled with tears.
" Tim ." It seemed that Jon had finally chipped at his stubborn exterior just enough to let Tim breathe.
“I…Awful, it just hurts and I’m so tired, I don’t-” Jon pulled him into a hug as he finally let the tears fall, running a hand up and down Tim’s back while the other cradled his head.
“It’s okay, it's okay.” They sat there, Jon whispered sweet nothings until Tim’s sobs had calmed enough that he could speak “What hurts, Love?”
“Everything but my hips hurt the worst. It’s like they’re shooting pain down the rest of my legs.” Tim pulled back slightly and Jon let him, wiping away Tim’s tears with his thumb.
“Got them Jon, but if it’s a flare up then why do we need the thermometer?” Martin’s eyes flickered over Tim’s face and Jon could tell he was holding back his mother-hen instincts. He trusted Jon and it made his chest warm to think that he trusted Jon enough to let him lead.
“I’m just hot stuff, what can I say?” The joke made them both smile, breaking some of the tension.
“Sometimes during flare ups you can get low grade fevers, I just want to make sure it’s not too high.” Jon explained as Martin kneeled back at their feet.
“Alright, okay.”
“Martin, it’s okay.” Jon reached out and took his hand, the worry practically radiating off of him.
“I know, I’ve just never been around either of you when you’ve had a flare up before and-” Jon’s eyes fell to his lap, guilt slowly seeping into his bones. He could tell Tim felt the same, squeezing his hand slightly before interrupting Martin. “You have actually, as much as I don’t want to admit it, we are relatively good at hiding them. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing.”
Martin looked to Jon and he nodded. “Right. Well, we can talk about that later.”
“Okay.” He turned to Tim. “Is it alright if i take your temperature, love?” Jon was pretty sure that he would say yes but it was still good to ask, to make sure Tim was comfortable.
“Yeah, alright.” Martin handed him the thermometer and Jon put it in his ear, waiting for the beep before taking it out again and doing it to the other ear.
“Hmm, 38.1 and 38.3. Not bad but still could be better. Let’s get some painkillers and water into you. Sasha’s ordering food just now so you’ll have that soon too.” Tim took them without issues but seemed uncomfortable when Jon mentioned dinner.
“I’m really not hungry just now.”
“Nausea or just no appetite?” Jon didn’t want to force him to eat if he felt nauseous but he needed some form of food in him if he was going to take more painkillers.
“Appetite.” Good, that’s something at least. Something he can work with.
“Why don’t you try some food and if you don’t want what we’ve ordered I’ll make you some toast?” As much as he hated that Tim was in so much pain it felt nice knowing what to do for once. Pain was something he was familiar with, something he knew so much about that it was instinct to him now.
“Alright.” Jon stood up and motioned for him to move along the couch slightly and he complied. He got them situated so Tim was lying down with his head on Jon’s chest and legs over Martin’s lap. He felt Tim curl into him and sigh contentedly. “Jon?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.” Jon ran his fingers through Tim’s hair, watching as his eyes started to shut again.
cane user jon lives in my head rent free i love him SO much. i respectfully compliment his cane and hand him a comical amount of flowers. i ADORE HIM
okay so in terms of meta, there's not a ton of evidence for this in podcast, especially since there's no cane noises or anything, but here me out, it IS canon that the worms got him badly enough that he couldn't stand at the end of season 1, and then there's a throwaway line in s2 that mentions him being at physical therapy (which made my heart go !!!!!!!!!💙💖🥰💖✨💙🥺💞💙 btw), and given how stressful PT can be, and also how much he started losing himself in season 2, I think it's reasonably plausible to think that maybe he didn't keep up with his exercises as much as he should have. Maybe some days it all gets a little much and he finds himself stuck at the top of a staircase, exhausted and shaking and so full of restless gnawing discomfort and fear of the sharp pains that will ensue once he takes a step, and then he’s forced to accept the fact that maybe he should think about using an aid here.
It's nice to imagine himself steadying himself with a cane, folding up by his desk when he doesn't need it, leaning heavily on it when the chill gets a nasty bite he can feel in his bones, coming to trust the feeling of it under his hand. I like to think it also alleviates some of the guilt about maybe it being his fault that he hasn't healed properly, that maybe he needs to be doing more, even when everything is too much and he just can't find the time or the energy, but with the cane all those thoughts get a little quieter.
I am absolutely projecting out of my ASS with this cause I have a very frustrating relationship with my own recurring pain/need for a cane that feels like it's my fault a lot of the time, and it's just so so comforting to imagine him being in a similar situation and i'm just very !!!!! spiderman pointing meme about the whole thing. cane user jon fills me with LIGHT and LOVE and everyone who uses that trope in ur art or stories i am dipping u low and kissing u so sweetly /j
PS, here is a bonus doodle as thanks for the opportunity to rant:
[Image ID: Two black and white sketches of Jonathan Sims. He is a thin, British-Middle Eastern man with long, curly greying hair, and various scars. The first sketch is very minimalistic, and shows a little image of Jon standing with a cane in his outstretched hand. The second drawing is more detailed, and shows a close up of Jon pressing a hand to his face, his eyes wide and his features pinched in an expression of pain, despite the small smile on his face. This is captioned “I am in unbearable pain.” End ID.]
