Disclaimer: I own nothing but the sub-plot in this story. This is an insightful fiction, following the events after Clark ran away from Smallville. The main plot from the episodes belongs to whoever filmed them...Reviews are appreciated.

Chapter four, part I: Sanctuary of the Wounded: a Friend in Need

"Please, Clark don't do this!"

"You cant' stop me Pete. Not this time."

"But this is not the way to solve things!"

The wounded are the first thing on a doctor's mind as soon as he steps through that hospital entrance door, family and friends are shunned to the back of the mind. It doesn't matter that the wounded are men, women, children, or black or Asians; what counts is helping them heal.

The skin is the most fragile thing in a man's body: a simple little prick, and it breaks, letting through the blood inside ourselves.

I have lost count of the many times I saw his skin break from all the pressure.

He was wounded. I have been his doctor these past few months, ever since I found out. After all, who could he have gone to when he needed a friend? I let him down.

I let myself down, by letting down his deepest expectations of being helped out of this atrocious situation. Doctors are supposed to heal you, to make it all better; not let you down. That is why so many people distrust them and their remedies. It is the fear being let down.

I always feared of letting someone down. My family, my pets, my teachers, and of course, my friends. I let my teachers down a lot, when I got a worse grade than expected and homework not done. I sometimes let my family down when they expected better things from me, or when I ended up in the police station, after I was caught shoplifting. My father was so angry, that I almost couldn't tell what that other look in his eyes was. I know now.

It was disappointment.

I let him down.

"How could you do this? You needed ask, and I would have given it to you."

"I don't know why I did it."

"That's not good enough! It isn't an excuse. What the hell were you thinking of?"

"I wasn't – "

"Exactly. You never think of the consequences of your actions. Well, this time you've gone too far, Pete. You wait until your mother finds out."

I did.

By God, I thought I was never going to get out being grounded or having to help clean that shop for three whole weeks. I never went near the word 'shoplifting' again. I couldn't look the manager in the face for a whole two weeks. And that's something a man cannot cope well with.

But that's okay.

All I had to do was think of him, and the lengths he had to go to keep it secret, and it would remind me that even though I wasn't as good a person as he, I could be good for him. Every time he needed a shoulder to cry on, I always offered mine, right before Chloe did.

He'd never take them of course, but after I found out, I never expected him to again.

After all, a hero was always a hero. And heroes never cried.

I had to keep it secret. You understand; when you're best friends with a creature of a different planet, it tends to make you more protective and cherish your friendship all the more. Those buffoons at Luthor's place. What do they know? He thought he could keep Clark safe. When had Alexander Luthor ever failed?

But he failed this time; he wasn't there when he was probably needed the most. And so did I. After the trouble distanced itself away, so would the guilt that was attached strongly to it. I would always think upon it and feel better than last time, because I had them. Because I had him. It always went away when I was surrounded and safe in my friends' haven.

But I never thought I could let Clark down.

Clark, who was always so strong and so good to everyone. Where was my damned protective instinct when he called upon it to help him?

Sub-consciously, but call he did.

I was so overwhelmed with the confusion of it all, I did not see.

I was blind to all but Clark and his need of a friend. He'd never needed one so strongly before. And I let him down. If humans could bleed with each wave of guilt they ever felt in their lifetimes, our life spans would be considerably shorter. I feel as if I will drown with it.

And this time, I don't think it will go away. Wounded people have hospitals to go to, when they have a cut, or an infection, or need surgery.

But where do wounded heroes go to? Why isn't there a place to offer them a roof over their noble heads when they're wondering around the country in pain, and loss? I never thought I could let him down so badly.

Perhaps it is mostly because I have always needed him, more than he needed me. With his astounding powers and his strong sense of responsibility and his ability to love, who wouldn't need him or want a piece of him? But Clark needed me today, and I could do nothing.

Why do we allow them to suffer so? Shouldn't we just lock them up, so that they can never come out, and keep on being as innocent and wonderful as they are? But what would heroes be like if they were innocent? Why don't I get an answer to all my questions?

I don't think that locking them up would be such a good idea after all.

In this world where innocence is quickly claimed, it's so hard to stand up when you're so afraid. Aguilera sure as hell knows what she sings about.

There is always a first time to everything, they say. But I never thought there would be a time when Clark was in pain, and I could not help him.

Where will he go? How will he feel, to be so great and so wounded and so alone?

And that ring. Goodness, the mention of the Ring makes my skin crawl. It will lead him to bad business, I know it will.

Who's going to be there to protect him when other people hurt his feelings? For his super powers are a gift to this pained world. But he is weaker than normal men in ways that stab and scar a lot more.

I should set up like a hostel house. Yes, hostel houses are good.

A house for the Wounded. A house for the Heroes.

I'll speak to my old man about it as soon as I get home tonight. On the drive home, I go past the Kents' farm.

OUCH!

What was that? It was something in my chest.

Damned bugs. I always told mum and dad I never liked farms. But the car has been locked up ever since I got out. So what was that pain, just above my heart?

That twinge that made it skip a beat or two? And that it happened as I was going past the Kent property...pure coincidence.

I can already see this Sanctuary of mine. Hey, that's a great name. Sanctuary.

The Sanctuary for the Wounded and the Heroes. Welcome to the Sanctuary for the Wounded and the Heroes, Clark. Your room is the biggest one at the top floor.

Just like his place in my heart.

I will always have special places for my family and Chloe. But Clark...I won't ever evict him out of the big space in my heart. Nuh uh, never ever.

You hear that, brother? You'll always have a special, big place in my heart. So you'll better get home soon Clark.

It's night, and Smallville needs you. Your parents and Chloe and Lana need you. Lana Clark, think of Lana. And me.

I will always need you Clark.

But I promise you, that as soon as you get back, I will make it up to you. You'll get to enter the Sanctuary for the Wounded and the Heroes with me; you'll be the first to see it in its homey, comfortable glory.

I'll just get home now, and pray to whoever hears out there to bring you back home safe. Even if that happens to be that bastard biological father of yours. And in the mean time I'll make damn sure my friend in need will have someone to get comfort from.

/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/##/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/ ##/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/#/

And there is chapter four, part I. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I deeply apologize for the time it took me to upload three, but I was working on new stories, and what with my GCSE's and all, it has been a hectic period. Thank you all to my reviewers, I love you all. A Special thanks goes to Tom-Welling1390. Thank you Tom!!

P.S for those of you who do not know what a GCSE is, it is an exam British students have to sit through at the end of YRs 10 and 11.