-hey guys I have a concussion so Conner got one too.-

"Why are y'turning the lights off?"

"Why? A concussion can be a big deal!" Wally snapped, careful not to raise his voice too high. "A bruise to your brain can cause traumatic brain injuries, and even permanent brain damage!"

"It's okay, 'm strong," he muttered. "What if I don't hava concussion? You're no doctor."

One of Conner's pupils was much larger than the other, and if that wasn't enough of a diagnosis, the huge bleeding welt on his forehead was.

The biggest problem with being superhuman is that you occasionally ran into other superhumans-- almost all of whom want you dead. Tonight the team had come out victorious, but not without cost.

It had been a painful fight for several reasons; Blockbuster had escaped. He seemed determined not just to return to the light, but to erase what he had brought into the world the second it confronted him.

At least with all six of them it was easier to disperse the injuries, but he still obviously targeted Superboy at every given opportunity.

Maybe it was because he knew the details of Superboy's physiology that he was able to hurt him so bad; beating the front of his head wasn't half as affective as throwing him head-first at something and watching the boy's own weight nearly snap his neck on impact. After all, the most dangerous thing to kryptonians wasn't kryptonite, it was their own bodies.

"He's right though, Supes, we can't risk your cognitive functions," Robin agreed. "We'll just wait until the other three are done wrapping Blockbuster up in a bow, then we'll get you straight to the med bay."

Wolf lapped his kryptonian's hand faithfully, he'd settled on Conner's lap the second his friends dragged hm back to the ship and had so far refused to get off.

"I want to go home," Conner said, voce cracking weakly under the words. He felt his vision getting blurry and looked upward to delay the tears-- though the act of looking up made his headache worse.

"As soon as the others get back," Robin assured, sinking down to his side. "Kid, can you grab me an instant cold pack?"

"On it."

"So, double-vision? blurry vision? nausea?"

Conner didn't reply, keeping his head down and eyes up. The first tear departed, splashing onto Wolf's head and making his ears perk up. He hoped his mop of hair had successfully hidden the lapse in strength from his friends. 

Wolf tipped his nose up and began licking Conner's cheek. He wasn't in the mood, shoving the muzzle away.

"I've got an ice pack and an alcohol pad to wipe the point of impact," Kid Flash said, kneeling with his friends on the floor. 

Robin gingerly reached out, pushing Superboy's fringe back. Conner jerked away a little too hard and he could feel his skull ricochet off the inside of his skull, along with the muscles around his spinal chord throbbing uncomfortably.

"Come on, we'll make it quick," Robin promised, inching closer and reaching out again. 

He pushed the mop of hair back just as the second tear fell.

Conner grit his eyes shut hard, trying to suppress a gasp for air. Another tear escaped.

Then there was a stinging pain on his forehead, and then Kid Flash was pushing a cold pack into his hand.

"There, that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Conner lifted the cold pack to his head shakily, eyes still closed. He could barely feel the cold at all, only exactly on the spot that had been scuffed open and bleeding. 

"I'll get some cotton pads for the blood," Robin said. "Just hold them over the spot-- under the ice-- and then we don't have to worry about you bleeding everywhere."

Conner absently did as he was told He stared straight ahead as tear after tear rolled down his cheeks. Then his breathing picked up, then his nose was running, then he was a sopping pathetic mess on the floor of the ship for his friends to see.

Robin produced a pack of tissues from somewhere. At first Conner refused, but soon the blood, tears, sweat and nasal discharge was just too much to handle.

Wolf, trying to be helpful, continued his endeavors of lapping Conner's tears away. Wolf was lucky, Canines didn't cry like humanoids did. 

He tried to slow his breathing, but it was hard. Everything as so overwhelming, and the thought of having to talk and be spoken to was hard to fathom.

Eventually Wally spoke. "I'm gonna get you some water, 'kay?" 

It was no more a question than it was an excuse.

"I'll, uh, help."

Conner covered his ears. He didn't want to hear them talking about him and he didn't want to hear the ringing in his ears.

He stared at the floor, sniffling every few seconds. At least the tears had let up somewhat. He'd gone from extreme emotion into minor depression, a heavy sort of hollowness in his chest, in a few mere minutes.

He emptily continued his task of cleaning up, and soon Wally and Robin returned with a water bottle.

"There you go."

Conner reached out for the bottle, missing it. He let out a frustrated huff and grabbed it, wrenching the plastic cap off.

"Slow sips, supes," Robin reminded.

The last thing Conner wanted to hear in that moment was the door of the ship dilating open.

He hastily turned away, grabbing another tissue to soak up the last of the moisture  before they could see.

"It's so dark in here," Artemis said.

"Well I'm glad that's done with," M'gann sighed. "Superboy, are you--"

"Fine." He pushed Wolf out of his lap and stood, swaying dangerously towards his seat.

Kaldur stepped towards him. "Superboy...?"

"He has a concussion," Robin explained. "Let's just leave him alone for now, he'll need medical care when we get back."

They were back at the mountain and the verdict was in; there was no denying the concussion.

There wasn't much they could do to help the young kryptonian, just reduce extreme sensory stimulation, give him lots of rest, and no work. 

That last one was the nail in the coffin for Conner. No school, no missions, and yet this was supposed to help him? Were they even remotely aware of how important this job was to him, or how guilty he'd feel if one of his friends got hurt because he wasn't there?

That night was tough, but after a whispered argument with their mentors, Wally and Robin had coaxed their way into staying an extra twenty minutes after discharge.

Even though the others could have helped Conner back to his room, they volunteered themselves.

Conner wasn't too dizzy to walk, but his balance was off, causing him to stumble a few times. Hs friends were always right at his side as it happened in case they needed to catch his fall.

Arriving at his room, Conner turned in the doorway to face his friends. His face felt hot and numb and he was only vaguely aware that what was happening was actually real life.

"Are you gonna tell everybody?" He slurred.

"About what?" Wally asked. Conner stared at him meaningfully. He didn't want to say it out loud. "Oh, the crying? No way dude! That's between us."

"And Kaldur, because he should have a record of your symptoms," Robin interrupted. "But no one else on the team will know unless you tell them."

Conner paused a long few seconds, swaying where he stood. "What about people not on the team?"

"Dude, we aren't going to go around telling Superman you cried when you got concussed. First of all, it's a normal reaction to a traumatic brain injury," Wally explained patiently. "And secondly, that's private, of course we wouldn't tell them."

Conner stared down at his friends a moment. "Thanks."

He closed the door softly behind him.