Experiment #2 consisted of seeing how long he could function without sleep, and he was fairly certain he couldn't. It wasn't so much that he was sleepy after weeks without it. He didn't feel constantly ready to nod off or so physically tired that he couldn't even stand up straight. In fact, he didn't really feel it in a physical way at all. It was the toll it was taking on him mentally that was the problem.

One minute he felt ready to cry, the next he was laughing hysterically, and then the next he was really angry at the injustice of it all. If he tried at all to get some sleep, the electrical sensors attached to his head and hidden by his hair would send a signal that would have someone come and force him awake, and it was usually General Lane, who had seemed to make it his personal mission to torture him.

He tried to think of ways he could escape. Of how he could get that tiny piece of green meteorite away that was hanging on the outside of his door, but he couldn't think clearly, and he knew why. The brain need sleep to recharge and process memories, thoughts, emotions. It was basic science, and he didn't understand how these scientists could ethically experiment in this fashion. He wasn't looking forward to seeing what was next on the agenda, but at least they were allowing him small rations of food now.

He was so tired that he didn't trust himself when he heard and saw the general's daughter return. Was this a waking dream?

He'd thought of her often since the last time, so it wouldn't be that strange. He didn't know why. Maybe his sleep-deprived mind hoped for a friend or at least for a friendly face, and she was the closest one to fitting the bill around here.

He watched her as she slid a card that granted her clearance into his room. When had she smuggled that he thought with amusement. The general's daughter certainly seemed like a friend worth having in a jam.

Her eyes widened with surprise when she saw him. She'd probably been expecting a whole host of things, but a boy near her own age wasn't one of them. The reaction also proved to him that she wasn't a figment of his imagination for if she was, she would have greeted him with a smile. He bet she was quite lovely when she smiled.

"Who are you?" she asked.

He almost said Clark, but that name didn't quite seem to fit anymore. And anyway, he'd gotten used to everyone calling him Kal-El around here, so he said, "Kal-El."

"That's an unusual name. I'm Lois."

He finally had a name to go with the face. Hers was a bit unusual too, at least among their generation. His first grade teacher's name had been Lois though. "Lois," he said, trying out her name on tongue like a musical note.

"What did you do to get in here?" she asked curiously but not condemningly, the way most might have.

"I wasn't born here, and they think think my birth parents did something wrong and that I know about it. I don't."

He should have told her he was alien then. It was no secret on the base, and she'd find out eventually, but he couldn't bear to see her look at him as something other. As if he didn't belong here on Earth and was merely an invader.

"That's horrible. It's not right," she said, indignation rising in her voice. "You need legal representation."

"I don't think that's going to help. Even if I could find someone willing to represent me, I don't know that I'm allowed legal representation. I'm supposed to be a secret."

She looked around, seeing the truth of that statement. "Who's not allowed legal representation? But if you really feel that way, then your story needs to be told to the press. Then they'd have to let your case come to court."

He liked her more than ever. Her passion was evident, and she felt injustice deeply. "I don't know if I'm ready for the whole world to know about me, but you could help me. Do you think you can get a message to my mother?"

"Your mother?"

"She lives in Smallville, Kansas. Her name is Martha Kent. Can you get a message to her? Let her know I'm alright."

"Sure, I will," she said, stepping closer. She gave his hand a light squeeze in reassurance.

Lois was restoring his faith in humanity.

"You look like you should get some sleep," she said.

He chuckled dryly and agreed. "Yeah."

"Try not to worry. Everything's going to turn out okay. You'll see."

He wished he believed her. He wasn't sure anything would ever be okay again.