"Good morning, Conner."
"Morning," he said, just barely acknowledging the Atlantian as he entered the kitchen. Sliding his bunny-slippered feet, a gift from M'gann, across the cave floor, he grabbed a bowl of cereal and plopped himself down at the breakfast bar. Next to him, Kaldur was slowly sipping at a mug of herbal tea.
"How was your slumber?" Kaldur asked, but the clone didn't respond, "Conner?"
He turned to see him face down in his bowl of cereal, spilt milk running off the table, and onto the floor.
"Conner!" he shouted, horrified. Conner jerked his head up, milk splattering on the couch behind him. He groaned and slowly lowered his head to his hands.
"What is wrong, my friend?"
"I think I got up too fast; my vision is blurry, and my head hurts," he moaned.
"Perhaps you should lie down. You appear to be growing pale."
Kaldur placed his arm around Conner, leading him to the couch. He placed his hand on the younger boy's forehead. It was burning. Conner pushed his hand away, and started to get up. Two hands firmly grabbed his shoulders and gently led him back down. Conner, too dizzy to do otherwise, let himself be pushed down into the plush, green cushions.
"Conner, rest. You have a fever and fell asleep in your cereal. You are not well," Kaldur instructed. Conner wanted to take his friend's advice and lie down for several hours. Superboy, on the other hand, wasn't so convinced.
"I'm fine! I don't need to be babied," he countered.
"No one was trying to treat you as an infant. The facts are, you are ill. To get better, you need to rest. Why don't you come with me to the infirmary?"
Superboy was about to resist, but his increasing dizziness prevented him from doing otherwise.
The walk to the infirmary was met mostly with silence, save for the periodic "clank" as Conner grew dizzy and slumped into the wall. Kaldur looked upon him with sallow-hearted eyes, wishing to help him. The last time he tried, however, he was met with a snarling face. He decided it would be smarter to keep the easily-agitated clone at a safe distance for now.
When they finally reached the infirmary on nearly the other side of the cave, Conner's eyes were crossed and he was visibly sweating. As far as Kaldur knew, Kryptonians don't sweat on Earth. Conner collapsed a few feet before making it to an examination table. He slumped forward, knocking his forehead against the metal edging of the station and dropping to the floor. Kaldur rushed towards him, turning him onto his back to examine him. His pulse was slower than normal, but at least his heart was beating. A large, dark purple bump was shown prominently against the pale forehead. Kaldur gently pressed his fingers around the wound. Conner winced in pain behind closed eyes. He wasn't bleeding, and his skull wasn't fractured. Kaldur sighed.
"My friend, you must take better care for your wellbeing," Kaldur mumbled, half to Conner, half to himself. He lifted the unconscious boy onto a medical bed, covering him with a blanket to keep him warm as he saw a fevered shiver run through the clone's body. "Conner," he sighed, turning his head, not wanting to see his strong friend at his weakest. He turned and walked out to prepare an ice pack for the bump. As he passed through the door, Conner moaned.
"Kaldur."
Kaldur stopped for a moment, looking back at Conner, but thinking it nothing, continued on.