Eighteen.

After Lex's visit last night, Clark didn't want to go back to school. He wanted to stay home and hide. His best friend was inadvertently responsible for the ten days of hell he endured.

Martha called to her son three times and he still wasn't down, hadn't even acknowledged her. She went up, tapped on the bedroom door. "Clark. You are officially late for first period." Still no response. Cracking the door, she peeked in.

Clark was still in bed, belly down, pillow over his head. Martha sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his back. "Clark, are you alright?" She tried to keep the worry out of her voice.

"No," was the muffled reply.

"Sweetie, what happened?" Martha glanced up at Jonathan who had come silently to the door.

"Lex came by last night."

Martha pulled the pillow off his head. He flipped his face to the wall but not before she saw his tear stained face. Jonathan and Martha remained silent, hoping Clark would finally open up to them.

"He told me that Dr Kimball took me after getting into his personal files about me."

Jonathan came in to the room. "I understand why you're upset, son." eyes locked on his wife "What happened was ruthless and that Lex inadvertently contributed is the clincher…but you are stronger than that…you can rise above this… you can't let this end your life…you can't let them win. "

Clark didn't move. Martha patted his back, stood to go, "I'll call the school."

Jonathan pressed his lips together. "Let's go, son," he said firmly.

"I don't want to go to school," Clark continued to object.

Jonathan grabbed him by the arm, hauling him up to sit on the edge of the bed. He threw clothes at him on the way out. "Get ready. I'm leaving in five minutes."

"I don't want to go to school," Clark repeated.

"I'm not taking you to school. We're putting an end to this."

Jonathan drove to Lex's mansion. Clark was silent the entire trip, unsure of his father's motives.

Jonathan pulled an old, worn baseball bat from behind the seat. Clark looked at him aghast. "What are you going to do?"

Jonathan ignored him, using the bat to bang on the door. Security balked at the bat and refused them entrance. Clark watched with wide eyes as his dad yelled through the open door for Lex.

After a few minutes, Lex came to the door but still behind the security team. "Mr. Kent, what's going on?"

"Lex we need to talk," Jonathan stated, a cold stare locked on Lex.

"Sure. Let them in…" then louder when the security team paused "Let them in." Eyeing the baseball bat wearily, he motioned the team to leave.

Walking briskly down the hall, Jonathan spoke, "Where is it?"

Lex trailed behind him, Clark behind Lex, down the many hallways of the mansion, trying the doors, each opening until he got to one. Locked fast.

"Is this it?" he scowled at Lex.

"Mr. Kent, I have no idea what…"

Jonathan turned and kicked the door open. Lex closed his eyes, gritting his teeth.

Jonathan walked slowly to the center of the room, spinning to take in the entire thing. Clark followed his father, eyes wide, mouth agape. Computers and monitors flashed his face, a computer generated recreation of the accident on the bridge, his house. The wreckage of the Porsche sat in the center of the room.

Anger surged through Clark. Now he understood why his father brought him here. Taking the bat from his father's fingers, Clark started in on the closest monitor.

Lex came toward them, opening his mouth to object but Jonathan bulled him out of the room, shutting the door behind them. Their eyes locked, each unflinching at the sounds of destruction going on in that room.

Lex tore his gaze away to the floor, Jonathan's eyes teared. It seemed longer than the actual fifteen minutes before the sounds finally ceased.

Jonathan stuck his head into the room. It was smoky and debris covered the floor. Clark stood in the midst of it all, tears streaking his dirty face, the baseball bat limp in his hand. Jonathan made his way to his boy and wrapped him in strong arms.

Lex poked in his head. He carefully took a few steps through the mess. A nearby consol threw sparks causing him to flinch. He stared agape at the destruction of the room.

Jonathan passed him, an arm around Clark. Lex couldn't meet their eyes as they left.

Clark stepped away from his father near the truck. "I want to walk home," he said quietly.

Jonathan gauged his son's state then nodded. He climbed in the pickup and left.

Clark took his time getting home. The air was crisp and clean, being outside felt good. His heart felt lighter, he felt free.