4 months of training, 3 fights and 1 one major one, brought the young Clark Kent this place now. His fourth fight with the escapees, but by far the worst. He was weakening and he knew it, his body couldn't take much more of the exhaustion, after months of training and only a weeks worth of sleep, exhaustion starts catching up on you, leaving you with the lower hand of any battle your bound to come across.
Another blow to the chest brought Clark to his knees, where he coughed hard, trying to enhale that sweet taste of fresh air.
"Give it up, Kryptonian, your fate is to die" The escapee spoke, and evil grin of delight etching across his alien features.
"Never" Clark replied, his voice low and horse.
"Your choice. Either way, your life ends here"
Clark looked up at him, his own smile consuming his face "Think again." And he pushed the evil thing, he pushed him as hard as his weakened body could manage. It was hardly even a hard shove, but it was good enough.
A slicing sound, followed by a sickening squish of blood echoed through the air, taking along with it all noise.
"Smarter then your father" The beast said, blood trickling down his lip, accompanying the large mass of blood at his chest, where the crystals lay intertwined in his bones and flesh.
A gasp was heard, as well as a choke for air, when silence stepped in again.
Clark looked at the escapee, drawing a large intake of breath, and fell to his knees, his body shaking from pain and cold from the fight. Consciousness seemed to hate him, and he found himself hardly able to stay awake from that bittersweet sleep that called to him. And he almost let it take him, his wounds aching for rest and comfort, but when images of his family and friends crossed his drowsy mind, he forced himself up, ignoring the almost unbearable pain that followed his every move.
The exhausted figure made his way slowly down the gravel rode, his weak legs hardly a source of support for his tired body.
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The soft click of a door brought Martha Kent's eyes to the farm boy standing in the threshold, shaking with pain and weakness.
"Clark?" She asked, her face becoming a battle field of worry and fear.
He didn't answer, but look at her fuzzily, hardly recognizing her presence in the room. His eyes drifted shut, and he crumpled to the ground.
It took her a moment to comprehend what had happened, but when she realized, she screamed out his name, and ran to his side, grabbing the phone and dialing the only number she could think of, the number of the only person in this town she could trust: Chloe sullivan.
A/N: Okay, sorry it's not longer, but I hope it's good enough. I suppose this takes place somewhere in season 6, when Lana hasn't found out about Clark yet. Reviews are always welcomed, as well as ideas or corrections.