quicklog: gotham general hospital, red robin & superboy
[Conner wasn't tired, not like his human allies, but there was fatigue. He had never seen so many people at once, nor so many people that were all dead or hurting. It was emotionally overwhelming, and there was an underlying current of guilt. Conner had wanted people to need him. He had wanted a team to tell him the best way to be needed, and especially in this place, that was in so many pieces he didn't know where to go, who to help first. His comm had started to fall apart too, probably from the explosions, but he still got a word here and there.
In the end, he stuck with the most visible, most competent person present. Of all the people he had met here, Tim sounded the most like his Robin, something in the voice, in the tone. Not in the attitude. He never said anything quick or funny, even when he was stressed. Conner wasn't sure he was his Robin. No one really seemed to know for sure. He couldn't trust anything in this world, anyway. No one he knew was really here.
His feet crunched on the rooftar as he edged a little closer, arms folded, clothing and face soot-smudged.] I think we've done all we can do here.