( it's good bruce disappears before jon finds it; there's a moment where he stares in awe, because it is beautiful. accurate down to the last strand of hair. jon hasn't seen her in--months, now. he's been counting the days, the hours, and while this isn't lois, it's--it's the closest thing he's going to get until he manages to drag damian and his dad out of here.
there are tears, halfway between happy and sad and he's careful to keep them away from the painting. keeps his hands down instead of handling it while the boy lets himself cry a little. lets out the heartache he feels for being stuck here, away from his mother. away from kathy, and their farm, and their apartment in metropolis. all his school friends, everything. it's so hard. but he'll be strong. and this painting is a great reminder of that, too:
lois lane wouldn't let getting stuck in some weird place without color and sirens and other weird stuff get in her way. she's strong, and he's--he's going to be strong just like her. he wants to be the kind of son both his mom and dad can be proud of, the kind of friend damian can rely on. it's okay to cry a little, to be emotional over stuff like this.
but he's got to be able to wipe up the tears and keep going, too. hands rub all over his face, smearing tears into his cheeks before shoving down against his pants and wiping off any wet residue. carefully, delicately, his fingers wrap around the edge of the painting, a shaky smile at the corners of lips before he's picking up that painting and carrying it off to his and damian's boathouse. he'll put it on the wall in the small space set aside for jon, keep it close.
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there are tears, halfway between happy and sad and he's careful to keep them away from the painting. keeps his hands down instead of handling it while the boy lets himself cry a little. lets out the heartache he feels for being stuck here, away from his mother. away from kathy, and their farm, and their apartment in metropolis. all his school friends, everything. it's so hard. but he'll be strong. and this painting is a great reminder of that, too:
lois lane wouldn't let getting stuck in some weird place without color and sirens and other weird stuff get in her way. she's strong, and he's--he's going to be strong just like her. he wants to be the kind of son both his mom and dad can be proud of, the kind of friend damian can rely on. it's okay to cry a little, to be emotional over stuff like this.
but he's got to be able to wipe up the tears and keep going, too. hands rub all over his face, smearing tears into his cheeks before shoving down against his pants and wiping off any wet residue. carefully, delicately, his fingers wrap around the edge of the painting, a shaky smile at the corners of lips before he's picking up that painting and carrying it off to his and damian's boathouse. he'll put it on the wall in the small space set aside for jon, keep it close.
thanks mystery batman. )