Dr. Carr stood on the edge of the field. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, and perspiration trickle down his neck. He waited patiently. The object of his anxiety stood just fifty yards from him, and judging by the young man's calculated progression, he'd soon be in range. He checked his tranquilizer gun again; making sure the dart was loaded properly. It'd taken weeks to perfect the right tranquilizer for him, knowing no ordinary drug would work on young Clark. He only prayed it worked. He and his team had been watching him for weeks, noting every extraordinary and ordinary thing he did.

Clark first came to his attention months ago while he was still working with Dr. Garner at Summerholt Institute. The incident in the memory well peaked his interest. He'd been monitoring his brain activity and had never seen anything like it. When the project was shut down and the entire staff had been let go, Dr. Carr and a few of his associates decided to start a research facility of their own. Knowing they'd need something truly astonishing to make their mark in the field; his thoughts immediately went to Clark. So the extensive research began, and the more he discovered, the more he realized he needed to have Clark in a controlled environment to make any progress.

The question of how he'd be able to contain someone with such physical power was answered one afternoon purely by chance. He'd been following Clark and his father while they ran a routine errand when their truck got a flat and veered off the road into a gully. Clark immediately got out to push the truck back on level land, when he fell suddenly, rolling on his bad, writhing in pain. Dr. Carr had passed them, parking his car at a bend in the road, and he stood amongst the trees watching with great interest as his father hurried to his aid, fishing around the dirt until he finally pulled out a large rock. If it hadn't glowed bright green, he'd have never known what caused Clark's fall. But the eerie green of the meteor rock made him immediately remember the odd reaction he'd had to the solution in the memory tank. He'd finally discovered his weakness.

Now he stood, with gun poised waiting for the opportunity to strike. Clark was raking hay and for some reason doing it at normal human speed, pausing occasionally to gaze out into the sky, seemingly lost in thought. Dr. Carr smiled at his luck, as Clark wandered near the trees close to where he stood. He waited for Clark to lift his neck towards the sky and then shot the gun. The dart landed squarely in Clark's jugular. His eyes went wide and he clutched at the dart in his neck as he sank to his knees. He yanked the needle out, panting, falling onto his back. Red and green mixed together as they ran down his neck. Dr. Carr watched, fascinated by his struggle, inching slowly forward when he was sure the drug was working. His eyes met Clark's for a brief second before he fell unconscious. He'd probably never forget the look of pure terror and anger in those eyes.

6 months later

Clark sat on his bed listening impassively to Dr. Williams drone on about not letting his recent illness worry him too much, that technically he was fine, better than most. He kept his head turned towards the window. The clouds were shifting outside, and the sky was growing darker. He inched closer to it, trying to soak in the last rays of the afternoon sunlight before the coming storm set in.

He'd heard it all before. Whenever he felt sick, they took great pains to remind him not to be worried. But he never worried anyway; all he ever wanted was the nausea and the weakness to stop. Clark mentioned on more than one occasion he thought the medicine they gave him caused the sickness, but his theory was immediately dismissed, saying not even the side effects could cause him such pain; that they'd keep working on discovering the problem. Clark wished they'd hurry, but right now he simply wanted Dr. Williams to go away and leave him in peace, so he could curl into a fetal position and will the nausea to stop.

"Clark are you listening?"

Clark looked up and nodded, but the bored expression on his face showed that clearly he was not listening. Dr. Williams looked a little exasperated, shaking his head slightly.

"Well, at any rate, Dr. Carr will be in to see you a bit later."

Clark's face brightened at the mention of Dr. Carr. "He's here today?"

"Well he's always here Clark, he lives here."

Clark rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean"

Dr. Williams smirked a little. "Yes, he's here. He was disappointed you couldn't finish your testing today, but he understands. His main concern is for you of course. He said to rest as long as you need to, and if you feel better later, you can visit him this evening."

A huge smile spread across Clark's face, making Dr. Williams chuckle softly.

"Well I'm glad at least one of us here can make you smile."

Clark shrugged, still smiling. "I like all of you."

Dr. Williams, just shook his head. "I'll leave you alone now. If you decide you want lunch after all just call the kitchen. Do you need anything else before I go?"

"I'm out of books to read."

Dr. Williams glanced at the tall bookcase in Clark's room, packed tightly with books. "Already?"

"I'm a fast reader."

Dr. Williams nodded, looking a little in awe. "That's an understatement. I'll have the library send up some more, or you can go down yourself when you're better. Well I'd better go. I'll see you at the end of the week."

Clark nodded and watched him leave. He glanced back at the window, cursing softly for missing the last bit of sun. It was raining now and a slight chill ran through him. He always felt uneasy watching things fall from the sky, though he had no idea why. The reason was probably housed in all the things he couldn't remember. As far as he knew, he'd only been in existence for six months, but his considerable size and command of the English language told him he'd been around much longer than that. The doctors told him his memory had been lost in the same accident that caused his odd mutation. They found him in alone the midst of a vast explosion, and as far as they could tell, there were no other survivors. He guessed it meant his parents were dead—if he had parents. He wanted to be sad about it, but he couldn't be sure they even existed, so feeling their loss was impossible.

They revealed very little to him about the cause of the mutation—more for his protection they claimed, so he could feel normal. For now he didn't press the issue; he wasn't sure he really wanted to know. He sunk into his pillows, massaging his stomach absently and turned on the television, flicking quickly through the ten channels he was allowed to watch. He sighed, settling finally on some home improvement show. The nausea was beginning to fade, and he could feel the strength returning to his limbs. But he had little desire to move now. He closed his eyes, thinking about later that evening, and hoping Dr. Carr had some new dvds for him to watch.