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do they even celebrate birthdays on the waverider? john's aware that time does pass normally even in the temporal zone— if it didn't, he assumed that the team's whole sense of time would be off balance and they would all wake up at varying times, not knowing when night and day was.
but not once has he witnessed a birthday party, any sort of birthday cake, or any calendar on the walls with a little "it's sara's/charlie's/nate's birthday!" scribbled over some random date. did they just fail to celebrate birthdays, or has john not been around long enough and everyone just conveniently had their birthday in, say, the summer or something?
of course, he wasn't very worried about his own birthday. his age only served as another meaningless piece of information on his identity for the government, and for the unlikely-yet-possible occasion where john might be transformed into a teenager (who knows how things will go, traveling on the waverider) and he desperately needs a drink.
april 12th was zari's birthday, though. john had noticed the date when he borrowed his girlfriend's phone to quickly check its digital calendar for a certain holiday, noticing a note on the 12th stating "my birthday!" followed by a multitude of emoji hearts. he stared at the event note storing it in a mental filing compartment that would be labeled "important things" where his essential spells and such are, before quickly tossing the phone a foot or two away from his fidgeting hands when zari called out to him, looking for her phone back.
"you found what you were looking for?" zari asks him, surveying the almost blank expression on john's face. when he fails to answer, she snaps her fingers a few times in front of his face. "hey! earth to john here. i wouldn't think whatever hell festival you were looking for would be marked in my phone calendar or anything."
"oh, oh yeah, i found it, sweetheart," he replies just for the sake of replying, john's brain in autopilot, "i found it. thank you, love." he places a peck on her cheek before promptly leaving her room, walking at a normal pace for a few moments while he was still within earshot of zari before running straight to the laboratory.
the sound of behrad spinning a pen along his fingers fell into a rhythmic pattern, humming as he looked up at john. "you know, my birthday's the day after hers if you were wondering..."
"yeah. mhhm. will definitely remember that." john nods with a slight smile on his lips, promptly placing this new information in the trash can of his brain. maybe next year he'll think about it. "i just wanted to know what you think your sister would want for her birthday, mate. i've no idea whatever fancy future tech they got in 2044 and i don't want to give her somethin'... shitty." he forgets, for a moment, that the timeship they're both standing and living on is from a time even further than 2044, but there's absolutely no way he could give her some piece of tech from the timeship without getting his ass set on fire.
"she likes... cats," behrad responds, but then he stops spinning his pen for a second. brows furrowed into a disdained expression, "though i heard that the last time we brought a pet onto the ship, it happened to be a dog from hell that brainwashed most of the team, so i don't really think that's the best idea."
john sighs. cats. he likes cats. he could've done cats, if it weren't for the freshly-printed "NO PETS" sign hanging in the parlor. the only pet allowed nowadays was gary's furball of a rabbit, and that was only allowed because he has a signed paper mandating it.
later, he tries googling for advice on the waverider's communal computer. he ignores obscure bookmarks embarrassingly labeled "CUTE PUPPY VIDEOS" and "coolmathgames" and "historicalplay", typing in "what do i give to my girlfriend for her birthday when she's from the future?" into the search bar. he groans at the small text displaying zero results, swatting the air away when gideon suggests, "perhaps that wasn't the best phrase to search, mr. constantine" as he searches for another solution.
"what's the best gift you've ever given?" he asks her a few days before april 12th, during a (surprisingly) quiet breakfast alone in the galley. zari munched away on some low-carb donuts gideon had whipped up, and john was fine with a mere cup of black coffee. he watches her as she takes one more bite before responding, praying that she wouldn't put the obvious pieces together.
when she finishes, there's a pause. her head tilts and he finds it cute, the way she thinks. her eyes squint just a tad and her lips form a bit of a pout. "my life," zari finally confesses, "when i gave it to you."
"your life?"
"back when we were getting to the fish truck and you had to stop my heart to make sure zombies wouldn't kill me on the way there," she elaborates, "that was me giving my life to you. i wouldn't have really complained if the last thing i saw was your face, by the way." he feels her elbow nudge a space between his ribs, and he laughs.
he decides to take the conversation further, just to watch her think and hear her thoughts again. "what about the next best gift?" john suspected it would be a car she gave to behrad, or maybe a nice house she bought for her parents.
"my heart. again, to you."
he laughs. nervously. but then he kisses her softly and all his nerves fade away and they laugh together, enjoying the rest of their relatively quiet breakfast— a peaceful moment on the ship with her might as well be the third best gift he's ever gotten.
on april 12th, zari wakes up early like she always does. it takes her an hour or two to get ready for the day, and with the waverider's one bathroom (seriously, they couldn't just add another one?) she had to haul ass before someone and their small bladder would start knocking impatiently on the door. beside her was john; the complete opposite of her, taking late nights and late mornings. rolling over, zari kisses him on his forehead before noticing something on his chest.
john's hand rested on his chest, yet there seemed to be a small square box in his grasp with a tag saying "for zari" in classic constantine chicken scratch. slowly and carefully zari wrests it from his grasp, opening the box to see a familiar necklace as she gasps.
it's eleven in the morning when john eventually rolls out of bed, greeted by a miniature birthday party in the parlor. his breakfast is birthday cake, his candy cigarette is replaced with one of those ridiculous party blowers, and his hair is ruffled even more to make room for the dumb pink party hat that gary snaps onto his head with the widest grin.
but he doesn't pay attention, doesn't swat it away, more focused on the best gift he personally thinks he's ever given hanging around zari's neck.
a necklace with a golden coin as its pendant, with "john constantine" etched into it.