His friend looked so miserable and there was nothing Connor could really do for him. He hated it. All he could do was try and take care of him and hope that, with time, he felt better.
A silent Kon was a scary thing. Not quite as scary as, say, red-eyed psychotic killer Kon. But it was up there. Connor was used to constant babble from his friend, even if it was something as stupid as kangaroo-eating dinosaurs. And he wasn't. And Connor was afraid to keep the conversation going in case he caused something in Kon's fragile mindset to snap. Or just added to Kon's headache.
He met Kon's stare for a minute, letting him absorb what he needed to. Then he began moving around the kitchen, preparing a small but hopefully filling breakfast that might start the healing process inside the Kryptonian. Cereal was a must. It was Kon, after all. They'd start there and if he could stomach it they'd try something else. He put a bowl and a spoon in front of the teenager and added a favorite cereal and some milk. Then he moved to stand beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Take your time, mate. We'll get you back into shape. Just...gonna take some effort, that's all."
He wouldn't let anything happen to Kon now. He'd worked too long and too hard helping to build this kid up for him to fall. And without Clark around, Connor was the only adult influence he had. Until Clark was home safe, he'd be like a guard dog, keeping everyone away unless Kon gave his approval.