Green Lantern's Protégée

20: "Trust me, I'm as mentally stable as you can get."

Mount Justice

October 23, 17:21 EDT

Cyra, along with the rest of the Team, were silent as they sat around the Cave. After the whole virtual reality fiasco, everyone wasn't even in the mood to talk. Cyra attempted a few jokes, but they died in her throat. Even the loud-mouthed Green Lantern didn't want to talk.

One at a time, they were talking each of them into a room with Black Canary for a little one on one time with the therapist. Superboy was her current victim. Cyra's foot tapped with the speed that could rival the Flash.

"Can you stop tapping?" Wally snapped.

"No."

"Geez, who died?" an older voice said from the door and Cyra spun around to see Hal Jordan standing there in all his Green Lantern glory.

Her ring quickly spun alive on her finger, wrapping her in her green suit as she zipped through the air and tackled Hal in a hug. "We all died. It sucked."

Hal pats her back. "Yeah, I heard about the simulation. You alright?"

"Pfft." Cyra pushed the older Lantern away. "Of course. It takes a lot more to shake a Green Lantern."

Hal smiled at her, but it was forced as he rested his hand on Cyra's shoulder and guided her out of the room and into the secluded training room, where the boxing bags hung limply and the acrobatic rings were collecting dust. Cyra suddenly found her feet very interesting, refusing to look up at her mentor.

Hal sighed, resting against on the weight benches. He suddenly looked a lot older than he was. "Cyra," Hal started slowly.

"Hal, I'm fine. I'm being serious for once. I feel fine. It was just some stupid simulation. It didn't mean anything and I got out with all my limbs intact," Cyra jokes. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Okay." Hal shook his head, defeated. Cyra was never going to admit something was wrong and Hal didn't want to force it out of her. Hopefully, she would come to him when she was ready. "So, you ready to go see Doctor Canary?"

"Ugh, no. That's even more stupid than the virtual reality." Cyra crossed her arms.

"Hey, maybe it'll help you out some," Hal shrugged. "It couldn't hurt."

"I hate therapists," Cyra muttered. "They ask so many questions."

Hal let out a small laugh. "That's their job, Cyra."

"That's their job, Cyra," Cyra mocked like Spongebob when she had no other arguments to say.

"Green Lantern," a dark, familiar voice said from the doorway. Cyra turned away from Hal to look at Batman, a questioning look on her face despite already knowing what he was there for. "You're next."

As Cyra dragged her feet down the hall to their personal little therapist office, she ran into Superboy. Literally.

"Hey!" Cyra barked, rubbing the shoulder Connor just hit. The boy was built like a truck. She caught the angry look on his face. "Whoa, did someone prying into your life not go so hot?"

Conner was steaming. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white and Cyra was wary of getting punched in the face. "She has no right!" Conner shouted, pointing in the direction of the office. "I'm not Superman!"

Cyra put her hands up, trying to soothe the raging clone. Of course, she had no idea what he was talking about but she could roll with the punches. "Yeah, you're not Superman. You're Connor. Man, you're really riled up. They must have put you through the ringer."