( he can't get out. that's the first thing that jon stops and realizes. damian's got him pinned down, there's no way for him to get out from under him. for a moment he considers trying to use his heat vision, super breath, anything, anything to get him off--but his body just won't move. it's as if all the energy stored in him just faded away in the blink of an eye--as if he'd run a marathon while carrying several bales of hay back before his abilities started to develop. but worse, because it hurt just as much as it exhausts him.
damian's hand poises against him, and even with the batarang this far away from him, jon's condition isn't recovering at all. he takes a few shallow breaths through his nose, digs his fingers into the dirt beside him in some last ditch effort to drag himself away from that.
he's weak. weaker than he's ever been before--and for someone like jon, raised up on a farm, constantly lifting and moving heavy things, pushing animals around to get them to where they needed to be--he wasn't superhuman, but he was always a little stronger than the average kid. for someone like him, the realization that he can't even push off this tiny thirteen year old is absolutely terrifying.
even when damian talks down to him, calls him nothing but a child, jon can't do anything against him. he can't lift his arm, can't punch him square in the jaw like he should be doing. it takes a few more moments after the kyptonite has been put away for him to start feeling like normal again.
his nose scrunches up when damian flicks it, brows furrowing as he shifts to press a palm down against the dirt once he's had enough time to sit down and just. breathe. pulls himself back together. )
Why do you--even have that? What's wrong with you?! ( he's trying to sound pissed, angry, but there's a shaky cadence to his voice, and his tone's still--quiet. jon balances his weight against that palm, tries to push himself up, but he's not being very successful at it. ) Just. . go away, Damian!
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damian's hand poises against him, and even with the batarang this far away from him, jon's condition isn't recovering at all. he takes a few shallow breaths through his nose, digs his fingers into the dirt beside him in some last ditch effort to drag himself away from that.
he's weak. weaker than he's ever been before--and for someone like jon, raised up on a farm, constantly lifting and moving heavy things, pushing animals around to get them to where they needed to be--he wasn't superhuman, but he was always a little stronger than the average kid. for someone like him, the realization that he can't even push off this tiny thirteen year old is absolutely terrifying.
even when damian talks down to him, calls him nothing but a child, jon can't do anything against him. he can't lift his arm, can't punch him square in the jaw like he should be doing. it takes a few more moments after the kyptonite has been put away for him to start feeling like normal again.
his nose scrunches up when damian flicks it, brows furrowing as he shifts to press a palm down against the dirt once he's had enough time to sit down and just. breathe. pulls himself back together. )
Why do you--even have that? What's wrong with you?! ( he's trying to sound pissed, angry, but there's a shaky cadence to his voice, and his tone's still--quiet. jon balances his weight against that palm, tries to push himself up, but he's not being very successful at it. ) Just. . go away, Damian!