-Requested by Kosaiir , sorry if this isn't what you were hoping for-- I can always do more Kaldur angst-

-Major TW for Racism, referenced hate crimes and segregation... All regarding fictional species but... it's analogous.-

Pencil scratched against paper as Aqualad tirelessly filled out report after report, eyelids heavy and only held up with great effort.

Kaldur wanted so desperately to return to Atlantis, to check on his family, but not only was he buried in paperwork, but his mother had sent word through Garth that Kaldur was not to return home. 

There had been a massive rise in purist hate crimes, and she feared that, as one of the only public figures with aquatic traits, Kaldur would be targeted. It's not that he hadn't gotten the threats before-- he never told the adults, but he read them all-- the crude and offensive murals smeared on city walls and the slanted political propaganda purists pasted to every door in the neighbourhood. 

As the closest gill-having member of the king's entourage, he was a bigger political target than anyone would want to be. Any purist in the nation knew that taking him out would be a massive blow to his community.

King Orin had agreed with the boy's parents, forbidding him from returning until things were safer. So Kaldur was forced to worry about his family and friends from a long ways away.

He felt the sofa shift beside him, snapping him out of his woes.

"You're worried about something back home," M'gann said. "I can feel it. I feel it all the time."

Kaldur nodded. "Please, don't worry yourself over me."

"It's the segregation, isn't it?" M'gann asked, and Kaldur noticed that their eyes and nose looked swollen and flushed.

"M'gann..."

"That's what it is for me," She sniffed. "I'm-- I'm so scared for my sisters!"

Kaldur tossed his pencil aside, reaching out to hold M'gann. "I'm so sorry."

His chest an stomach felt heavy as lead. He couldn't mope about himself right now, his friends needed him.

"And-- and I feel bad for pretending to be a green!" She sobbed shallowly. "Like I'm a race traitor."

"You're not a race traitor!" Kaldur exclaimed. "I cover my gills in public to pass as human, it's a secret identity, and you were just doing what was safest."

"But-- but--"

Kaldur, thinking fast, helped her stand. "I'm sure Conner has some thoughts on segregation and systemic oppression, what with the genomorphs and CADMUS, maybe you can talk together."

"But, I thought you..."

"I'm sorry, M'gann," he admitted shamefully. "I don't think I can handle something else right now."

"Oh... I'm sorry." M'gann sniffed, hurrying from the room.

Kaldur could tell he'd hurt her feelings, and it was terrible. He wanted to help, he really did, but in that moment he'd felt like if he had to carry one more burden he too would've started crying. He didn't want his team to see him like that. He was the leader.

He began searching for the pencil, which had not landed on the desk.

When he'd come to the surface he hadn't known what to expect, but practically as soon as he could walk without his knees buckling and speak without stuttering, One of the Green Lantern's had pulled him aside.

He didn't really remember what they said, it was very confusing at the time, but the green lantern had explained that 'men like us need to be careful what we say and do', and then he explained that what he called 'black guys' needed to be sure not to be too aggressive in public lest the wider public see them as a threat.

That's the moment Kaldur realized that nothing had changed. he was seen as both subhuman and subatlantean. He'd hoped to reconnect with some of his father's surface heritage, but now he was realizing why his father had never mentioned people of different races.

So Kaldur did on the surface what he did below it: he was polite and well mannered and cautious and obedient. He knew that to the true purists he'd always be seen as a savage fish-man, but he also knew what happened when someone who looked like him started turning heads.

Even as a little boy he remembered playing in the school yard, and one of the older boys calling him something he'd never heard. When he'd asked his mother what it meant and she'd just wept. That made Kaldur feel bad, and he'd spent the rest of the day apologizing and pleading for her to stop crying.

Because of that, Kaldur learned quickly that his usually good-natured parents got very upset by purism, so when he faced it, he tried to keep it to himself. He didn't like it when his parents cried.

Even now, when the team would praise his aquatic traits, he kept fearing that he was being made fun of. Nobody wanted to look like him. In Atlantean society there was nothing worse than to resemble the primary food source. They were compared to non-sentient fish constantly, and many texts fifty or more years old depicted 'non-pure' Atlanteans as little more than city livestock.

Kaldur had found the pencil by now, but it trembled in his fingers and he struggled to write.

Tears blurred his vision, but he looked up and blinked them back.

"...Kaldur...?" Conner asked, leaning into the room. "...M'gann's crying. I don't know what to do." Kaldur turned to ask his teammate to leave, but he could tell from the shifting expression that Conner had noticed. "You're crying too!"

Kaldur let out a soft, involuntary chuckle. He loved his friends so dearly, despite everything.

He didn't like crying on the surface, it was so obvious when you'd been crying. At least at home no one would be able to tell-- not that he made a habit out of crying. He had people he loved who needed him to be strong.

"Can you get me my water please?" He asked, struggling to keep his voice level.

Conner, who seemed quite distressed to be surrounded by crying people, jogged off to find the bottle.

Kaldur felt ashamed of his momentary lapse in stoicism. He was supposed to be the leader.

He should have known it was suspicious that Conner took more than five minutes. Sure enough, it was not Conner who returned with his water, but Red Tornado.

"You seem upset," The android observed. "Are you unwell?"

Kaldur shook his head. "I'm just... tired."

"Respectfully, the last time you were 'just tired' it turned out to be chronic weeks-long dehydration. Perhaps we should do a medical examination."

"No, that isn't nessecery." Kaldur thought over his next words. He knew he'd need to be direct to set Tornado at ease as to his health. "I'm... stressed. I'm worried about my loved ones in atlantis, and I'm worried about my own rights on the list of things my king will eventually get around to..." The last part had sort of just burst out, and as soon as he'd said any criticism of his king, Kaldur knew he shouldn't have spoken.

"I see, it sounds as though the racial tensions in Atlantis are weighing you."

It was an understatement but he just nodded, chin down. "Yes, sir."

"I will schedule a meeting with Black Canary so you can attempt to relieve some of this stress."

"No, please, I've so much to do," he said, gesturing at the piles of reports on the desk before him.

"Your health must come first, as the team's 'denmother' I believe it's only my responsibility to remind you."

Kaldur sighed, deeply. "Thank you, Red Tornado. For now I think I'd like some time alone."