Superboy x KF- Just Because, 3

He woke up badly. No, that didn't make sense; he woke up, and then it went bad.

Because he woke up in the Cave, in the med bay this time instead of anyone's room, and the room was sorta empty, only a few people clustered around him and it was still hard to distinguish more than one face at a time; Robin was the one he recognized first, though it took carefully scrutiny- really, did the world have to sway like that?- and he noticed the younger boy was clenching his hand tightly.

"Worried again, Rob? You oughta stop that, your hair'll turn gray." He hated that his words slurred together the way they did, and started to shift upright, despite the way it made his head pound. Because he was fine, just sorta dizzy and maybe a little nauseous at all the light and sound even though the room was pretty quiet.

A hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Stay there, Wally. You have a concussion. A bad one."

He froze, heart palpitating wildly, and didn't look over- and up- because he knew that voice, knew the hand, knew the strength behind it, knew it was only Conner, his good friend and nothing more, the one with grave blue eyes-

And he also knew it wasn't fair for Conner to sound so concerned. It wasn't fair for him to sound like he cared that much because he didn't, and Wally didn't blame him, really, he didn't, but he wished he would just stop pretending because Wally was stupid and kept hoping, hoping-

He loves her.

"Wally." Robin's voice was alarmed and Wally realized a little too late he was vibrating, but he didn't care, didn't stop to care, couldn't breathe. He snapped his arm out of Robin's grip, yanked away from Conner because he couldn't think and it hurt to be close to him.

In half a second he was halfway across the room, where he stumbled into a table and clutched at it because everything was spinning.

Conner was fast, faster than Robin, and it was Conner who grabbed him and heaved him upright again- Conner's blue eyes, worried and so close and Wally was blinking back tears before he knew what was happening and once he was crying he was sobbing, and he couldn't help it, couldn't stop.

Conner's grip on him slackened and the clone stiffened- his first time witnessing anything like this, he probably had no clue what to do- and Wally, vibrating as hard as he was crying, pulled free and ran.

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No idea where he was going as he sprinted away; didn't wait for the zeta beam, ran down stairs and out through the garage because it was faster than waiting on that stupid computer, and he was picking up speed and even though each step hurt a little more than the last one did, he was okay because each step was a just a little bit farther away from him.

Wally was being stupid. He got that. Conner, Megan- they were good for each other, she was patient and steady and gentle, level-headed and firmly rooted, everything Conner needed. Everything Wally wasn't.

They were his friends, he should be able to let this go- for them, if nothing else. It wasn't their fault.

Knowing it was his fault made him choke on a sob and he stumbled, his foot catching on a rock or something, sending him plummeting to the ground. He reached out instinctively, and caught onto what might've been a tree or a lamp-post; whatever it was, it was tall and solid. He clung to it as his head throbbed painfully and stood there panting for what felt like forever.

Clinging and panting and crying, feeling like the farthest thing from a hero, wanting to run without stopping, and wanting to stand still forever- he didn't know which would be easier.

"There you are."

After a single tense, breathless moment, his shoulders sagged and his chest ached with relief at the sound of that voice. He turned to it immediately, letting go of his support to reach out to it blindly, because that voice was all the safety in the world.

He was instantly rewarded by strong arms wrapping him up, close and tight. "You really scared me," the red-clad hero told him quietly. "You know that?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." All was forgiven, if the gentle fingers carding through his hair were any indication. He could feel himself relaxing slowly, the trembling and vibrating fading into spent shivers, and he closed his eyes.

Those arms shifted, never letting him go, and Wally was scooped off the ground like he was twelve years old again, cradled against a broad chest and the lightning-bolt emblem that meant the world to him.

"Let's get you home."

But home was too blue eyes.

Or it used to be.