Fourteen.

"Clark," Jonathan barked running to his son. He grabbed Clark's hand, very much aware that all Clark had to do was twitch and Lex's throat would be crushed.

Martha, on the other side, pleaded with her son. "Clark, please, let him go."

Blink. Voices…voices were calling him…familiar voices. 'Dad? Mom?' Memories fought through the fog that engulfed his brain. 'Where am I?'

Lex was clawing at Clark's hand, mouth open trying to suck air through his collapsing windpipe. Jonathan kept tugging to open his fingers.

With a startled look, Clark dropped Lex to the floor. Lex curled onto his side, gasping, holding his throat. Martha was quickly at his side.

Dr James, the psychologist from Metropolis, and four security guards burst through the door scanning the room for the origin of all the shouting. Dr James made his way to Lex while the guards kept themselves between Lex and Clark.

Before security could get near, Jonathan took Clark by the upper arm, dragging him from the room. In the hall, he faced him, "Clark, do you remember what happened?"

Clark blinked, eyes unfocused, pulling up memories buried in the muck of his mind. Long slow blink. "Dad?" his voice was high, uncertain.

Jonathan smiled. "Yes, son, it's me."

Clark sagged into his father's embrace. "I thought you were dead," he cried.

Jonathan blinked back his own tears as he stroked the back of Clark's head. "Clark, you have to listen to me now." deep breath "You were taken to some kind of lab. The doctor there did" his voice caught "horrible things to you…but whatever you saw was…was not real, son." pause "Do you understand?"

"Is this real?" Clark whispered, pulling back to look at his father.

"Yes, son, this is real." Jonathan smiled gently.

Clark looked around frantically, "Where's Mom?"

Jonathan gripped his upper arms again. "She's fine, Clark. She's in the other room with Lex."

"Lex?" Clark looked thoughtful. "Then Lex didn't hurt you," he stated.

"No, son, Lex didn't…hurt us." Jonathan cringed inside at the half truth.

Dr James came toward Jonathan and Clark. He was an older man with graying dirty blonde hair and intense ice blue eyes. "Jonathan, may I have a moment with your son?"

Jonathan looked him up and down, nodded, "Clark, this is Dr James. He is going to help you understand…things, okay?"

Clark still looked confused but nodded, implicitly trusting his father.

Jonathan patted his shoulder, walked back in to his wife.

"Clark, walk with me," Dr James motioned down the hall.

Jonathan sat in the arm chair flipping through the 500 channels of Lex's satellite TV. It had been over an hour since Dr James had taken Clark for a walk. Frustrated and impatient, he tossed the remote onto the coffee table staring uninterested at a news channel.

"…renowned psychologist Jeremiah Kimball of the Gale Institute of Psychology, was found dead in his laboratory at the morning shift change. It is reported that Dr Kimball was inside a new sensory deprivation chamber. This new tank had apparently been modified with virtual reality functions, it is assumed for hypnotic induction. It is alleged the doctor was testing the new machinery on himself when a short circuit completely wiped the computer system and… "

Jonathan grabbed the remote, clicked the television off, trying to think. He couldn't say he felt remorseful that the doctor was dead, not even a twinge. His reverie was broken when Martha came up behind him, putting her arms around his shoulders, her head leaned against his. "Anything interesting?"

He pondered his reply then answered, rubbing her arms, "Nope."

Dr James came up behind them, clearing his throat. They turned to him eager for his assessment of their son.

"Where is he?" Martha asked trying not to sound worried, hoping inside he didn't run off at super-speed or try to strangle anyone else.

"He's outside. Don't worry, I have someone with him."

Martha nodded, Jonathan cleared his throat, waiting for him to continue.

The doctor looked around, spotted a chair and pulled it over to sit beside the Kents.

"As I am sure you understand, Clark has been through an extremely traumatic experience. He is demonstrating symptoms of hyper-responsitivity, which is an exaggerated response to stimuli, and aggressive anger. It could be much worse. After only four days of this form of torture, many soldiers suffer loss of identity, difficulty meeting basic survival needs, apathy, depression…these symptoms could still develop but…"

"Those were trained soldiers, not fifteen year old boys. We have no way of knowing how long Clark was in that tank," Jonathan interrupted.

Dr James nodded, "True. Your son needs to get back to his most secure place…I am assuming that is home. Do you both live in the home?"

Martha did her best not to look offended but she couldn't keep it from her voice, "Of course."

"Just checking," he conceded. "After what happened earlier, I would recommend that Mr. Luthor stay away for a while. Get Clark to talk and I'll be out twice a week to see him." He looked to his hands. "I could give him some medication to help…"

"No," Jonathan interjected forcefully. He knew it would have no effect on Clark. "Thank you…We'll…uh…take him home then."

Dr James pressed his lips together in frustration but acquiesced to the Kent's decision.