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Chapter 4

He's coming back! My God, he's going to hurt me again. I can't handle the pain anymore. Mom, Dad, please still love me enough to hide me. I'm so scared. Don't be so mad anymore. I want your love. I'm so alone. Pete, Chloe, Lana…Lex. Where did my friends go? Why can't I feel whole again? Sleep…need to sleep…so tired of worrying…of being afraid. Mommy, Daddy…hold me. Oh my God! I must have dropped the mail. I've ruined everything!


Martha was coming down the front staircase when she thought she heard a crashing noise from outside. She walked to the screen door and called, "Clark?" wondering if he heard the crash too. He was outside getting the mail. The door squeaked as she opened it and gazed across the yard to the barn. The porch floorboards creaked as she stepped onto them. She looked down and found Clark face down on the ground at the bottom of the steps. She screamed out, "Clark!" thundered down the stairs and called out again, "Jonathan! Hurry! It's Clark!"

Jonathan came running from the barn just as Pete's car pulled up the driveway. Jonathan reached them, "Martha, what happened!"

"I don't know! I heard a crashing sound and found him like this."

In their frantic state, neither Jonathan nor Martha heard Pete drive up in his car. They seemed startled when he spoke. "What happened? Is he hurt?" They briefly glanced at each other before turning their attention back on Clark.

"Should we turn him over, Jonathan! What if he's hurt and shouldn't be moved!"

Jonathan carefully checked over Clark. He didn't appear to have any injuries and there were no signs of kryptonite near, "Pete, help me turn him over." They cautiously rolled Clark onto his back as Martha brushed his sweat clumped bangs away from his forehead.

Pete noticed a picture lying face up that had been hidden under Clark. He picked the picture up and his face showed confusion. It was what looked like vials of blood and petri dishes with something in them. But what caught Pete's eye was the name that labeled each - Clark Kent. He stared at the picture, dumbfounded. What did this mean? Why would Clark have a picture of this? Why would there even be a picture of this?

Clark let out a quiet moan and put his hand to his head as he opened his eyes, "Mom?"

"I'm here baby," Martha spoke soothingly to him as she helped him into a sitting position. He put his head in his hands, trying to regain his bearings.

Pete held out the picture, "Umm, I found this picture. I don't know what it means, but it's strange."

Jonathan took the picture from his hand and inhaled sharply when he saw it. He looked away and saw a piece of paper lying amongst the mail. He picked it up and silently read, 'Did you really think that I was careless enough to leave all the samples in the building? Don't begin to feel relaxed yet Mr. Kent, it won't be much longer.' Jonathan's face flushed beet red with anger as he realized the reason for Clark's distress. His breathing deepened and he crumpled the note in his hand and dropped it to the ground.

Clark saw the balled up note land beside him and he looked up to find his father angrily looking at the picture. He practically jumped from the ground and snatched it from his father's hand, "No! That's mine!" His equilibrium was still off and as he took hold of the picture he stumbled and would have fallen if Pete had not caught him. He pushed Pete away and gave him a 'back off' look. He grabbed the railing and went up a few steps before Martha was at his side trying to calm him. He stopped, leaned against the railing and held the picture to his chest. He kept his eyes fixed on the step ahead of him as he tried to calm his breathing.

Martha looked from Jonathan to Pete, trying to find a solution for the chaos transpiring before her. There was an eerie silence amongst them until Martha spoke, "Pete, would you mind coming back tomorrow? We'll take care of Clark and I'll have him call you later." Pete hesitated before nodding okay and Martha helped Clark up the remaining stairs and into the kitchen.

Pete began walking back to his car but turned back in confusion when he heard Jonathan say furiously, "I will not let that man destroy this family any longer!" He stopped for a moment and then got into his car. He didn't want to leave. He'd never seen Clark so unsettled before. He'd especially never seen him pass out or look as ill as he did without the effects of kryptonite near. He sat with his hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead, trying to make sense of what he just witnessed.

With the help of Martha, Clark went straight to his bedroom to lie down. He climbed the stairs with one hand on the railing and one hand clinging tightly to the picture. He told himself that if he hadn't been so weak then he wouldn't have passed out. He felt ashamed that he caused such a ruckus outside and that he once again made his father angry. He knew they would want to talk about the picture and note. They'd want to figure out a plan. Confront Lionel. And he knew it needed to be dealt with but it was terrifying and he did not want to acknowledge the danger that now lurked before him. The note said it all, Lionel was planning to take him again.

Martha helped him onto his bed then pried the picture from his death grip and told him everything would be okay. She didn't look at the picture until she reached the bottom of the stairs. She turned it over and put her hand to her mouth to cover her gasp. She closed her eyes and held in her tears for her son. Months of trying to recover and move on from what happened only to have it shoved cruelly back in his face. It was almost too much for her to bear; she couldn't imagine what he must be going through. She took a deep breath and walked into the living room where Jonathan was pacing. "Jonathan?" she said quietly.

He stopped momentarily and quickly looked at her before continuing his pacing. The small glance was enough for her to see his fury. "What did the note say?" she asked. He had picked it up before he came inside and still held it clenched in his fist. She took it from his outstretched hand and quickly read it. Her voice was tight with worry, "What are we going to do?"

He sighed in frustration, "I don't know. But I am not going to let him get away with this."

Martha wanted nothing more than to make Lionel pay for what he did to her child but she knew they couldn't do anything. They didn't have the money or power to stop him. And she knew Jonathan's temper on the matter wasn't going to help either so she tried to bring his focus on Pete, until he was able to calm down. "What about Pete? He's going to want to know what happened. He saw the picture." She paused, "Maybe we should tell him. I think it will be good for Clark to have a friend to help him through this."

He sat down on the couch and rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He let out a deep breath; "He's handled knowing Clark's secret well, I suppose it wouldn't do any harm by telling him."

There was a knock on the door so Martha went to answer it. "Oh, Pete," she said, not so surprised that he didn't leave.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Mrs. Kent, but Clark is like a brother to me and I can't just leave after what I saw. I know he's going through something big and I want to be here for him."

She smiled, "Come on in, sweetie," he followed her into the living room and she ushered him to the couch. Jonathan stood to greet Pete and then sat in the chair next to the couch. Pete sat down, followed by Martha. She placed her hand on his knee and said, "Pete, Clark didn't run away to Metropolis the second time. He was kidnapped by Lionel Luthor…"


Pete stood from his seat with a heavy sigh. He had just been told that his best friend had been kidnapped, tortured, and nearly killed by the same man that so many years ago screwed his family over. "Umm, do you think it'd be okay if I go talk to him?"

Martha gave Pete a weary smile and hug, "I think that would be good." Pete smiled back and left the room. She watched him disappear up the staircase and silently prayed that Pete would be able to help Clark open up more. It scared her that he was keeping so much inside and what it might do to him if he didn't get it out.

Jonathan became agitated even further after Martha had told Pete everything. Hearing the words and watching Pete's horrified expression added fuel to his ever growing fire of fury. After Pete left he got up from his chair and began pacing again.

"Jonathan," she drew his attention back to her and clasped his hands within hers, "you need to calm down. I'm worried for Clark and he is going to need us to help him through this."

"I was supposed to protect him. I'm his father and I just sat back and did nothing." His voice was mixed in guilt and anger, "I promise you and Clark that I will not let anything happen to him again."

"Maybe we should talk to the police."

He began pacing again, his eyes were filled with anguish, "No. No…we can't go to the police without running the risk of Clark's secret being exposed. I'm responsible for this mess. I'm responsible for Clark's safety and I'll be the one to handle this."

"Handle what?" she asked, worrying about his intentions, "What are you thinking of doing?"

He stopped again and took her in his arms. He gave her a kiss and put his hands on her shoulders, "No matter what, I won't allow Clark to be hurt again." Without another word he walked to the door and grabbed his coat and keys.

Martha was directly behind him, "Jonathan, what are you planning to do? Where are you going?" He only stopped to give her one last look, determination in his eyes, before closing the door behind him. Martha followed him onto the porch and then watched as he took off in the truck.


Pete gave Clark's bedroom door a gentle knock, "Clark, its Pete. Can I come in?"

"I'd rather be alone right now. I'll talk to you later," his voice was emotionless.

Pete opened the door slightly and poked his head inside. Clark was standing by the window, "Clark?" he said as he entered the room.

"My dad just left…again. I should go after him but he probably doesn't want to see me right now."

Pete walked closer to him, "I know what happened. Your parents told me what you've been through," Clark stiffened, but kept his gaze out the window. Pete sighed, "I don't know what to say, man."

"It's okay, Pete."

Clark's voice was so impassive that if Pete hadn't just found out the truth he would have never guessed he was an emotional mess. Clark turned around to face Pete slowly. His voice may have covered his true feelings but his eyes held every ounce of fear and pain he had. Yet Pete was shocked to see such resignation on Clark's face.

"I need to go finish up my dad's chores," he began walking towards the door.

Pete stood in his path, "Clark, I think you should stay inside right now. The chores can wait."

"I can't stop living, Pete." He lowered his head and quietly said, "Maybe it's for the best anyway. I'm nothing but a burden to my parents. They argue all the time, the farm is suffering and it's my fault." He looked back up and Pete noticed a deep sorrow in his eyes.

It became clear to Pete that his friend has suffered more than he ever imagined. It broke his heart to hear what had happened but looking into Clark's eyes told him he was suffering significantly. Pete wanted nothing more than to help him but he didn't know how. He was at a loss for words and before he could find the right thing to say, Clark gave him a brief nod and walked around him and out of the room.


The security guard sat, bored, in the small surveillance room, absently turning the pages of his magazine, paying no attention to the contents when a red truck pulled up and screeched to a halt at the gates. He set his magazine down and peered closer at the monitor.

The man got from his truck, slammed the door shut and walked to the gate. He pressed the intercom buzzer several times and yelled, "Lex! Open the gate! Now!"

The security guard's voice came through Jonathan's side of the intercom, "Sir, Mr. Luthor is in a meeting and is not to be disturbed. I suggest you come back at a-"

Jonathan pressed the button and yelled back before the man could finish, "I will not come back! Open the gate now!" He grabbed the gate and began shaking it furiously and continued to shout, "Lex! Open the gate!"

"Sir, please stop shaking the gates!" realizing the man wasn't going to be reasoned with the guard buzzed Lex.

"I'm in a meeting," Lex was annoyed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt Mr. Luthor but it's important that I speak with you. We may be experiencing a security breech and I need your advice on how to proceed."

A sigh was heard before, "Okay. Meet me in the hall outside my office." Lex apologized and politely excused himself from his meeting. In the hallway he found the guard waiting for him, "There better be an army storming the gates."

"It's Jonathan Kent, sir. He's shaking the gate and demanding to see you."

Lex's expression instantly changed from irritated to concerned. An angry Jonathan Kent visiting him could not be a good thing. "Let him in. I'll be in my library."

"Yes," he nodded and walked briskly back down the hall.

Lex entered his office. The two men waiting for him stood as he walked up. "Gentlemen, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to cut this meeting short. An emergency has come up that requires my attention. I'll have my secretary call and reschedule."

"Not a problem, Mr. Luthor." he shook Lex's hand and gave him his business card.

The men quietly left and Lex went straight to the library. Just a few minutes later Jonathan charged through the door and at Lex. He grabbed him by his collar and shoved him back again the wall. "You and your father have gone too far!"

Lex's personal security guard instantly pulled Jonathan from his grasp on Lex and held him by his arms. Lex adjusted his shirt and rubbed his neck. "Let him go, Darius. Wait outside."

"Sir, I really think I should stay."

"Go." Jonathan pulled his arms free as Lex escorted Darius out the door. He turned back, trying to remain compassionate, but he wanted answers, "Mr. Kent, I don't know what you think I did, but I assure you, I am in no way involved with any of my father's dealings and I'd like to know what I'm being accused of." Jonathan glared at him and Lex realized for Jonathan to behave like this something was definitely not right, "Is Clark okay?"

"Your friendship with my son has caused nothing but trouble for my family!" he raged. Lex tried to understand why Jonathan has suddenly decided to voice his opinion of his friendship with Clark. He was about to ask when Jonathan spoke again, "Tell me where you father is! Where can I find him!"

"As far as I know he's in Metropolis, either at his office at LuthorCorp plaza or his penthouse. Why do you want to know?"

Jonathan only answered in a nod and began to leave. With his hand on the doorknob he turned back to huff one last time, "I don't want to see you on my property again. Leave my son alone! He doesn't need the Luthor brand of friendship any longer!" He slammed the door behind him as he left.

Lex couldn't help but feel hurt by Jonathan's accusations. He would never do anything to hurt Clark and he'd always gone out of his way to be a good friend. Something bad must have happened for Jonathan to react like the way he did. Something must have happened that pointed toward Lex. Or Lionel. Lex thought again of the conversation he had with Logan in that shabby motel so many months ago. Logan said, I'm a part of his contingent who are called in when special services are required on the QT. I was brought in to provide the medical care necessary to keep this individual alive…he's an innocent kid, caught up in an act so heinous that I could no longer bear to be associated with it."

"What are you up to, dad?"


"Ah, David. Do you have the video?" Lionel asked as he stood from his office chair.

"Yes sir," he held out a black videotape and gray folder of the latest report of the Kent household. "I think you're going to be pleased; things are moving along nicely."

"Good. Very good," he said with a smirk of satisfaction as he took the tape and folder. He placed the folder on his desk then walked to a wall cabinet and opened it. He put the tape into a VCR and turned the television on. The tape began playing video footage of Clark. He walked up the stairs, mail and package in hand, and sat on the top step. Lionel watched, a smirk beginning to form, as Clark opened the package. His eyes went wide and his chest started pumping. Lionel's smirk grew. He watched Clark as he began to hyperventilate and weakly called out for his mom before he passed out and fell down the steps. Lionel looked to David, grinning his approval, then he looked back. Shortly after he passed out Martha found him. Then Jonathan came running up, followed by Pete. Lionel kept his eyes on the screen as he spoke, "Have someone watch the Ross boy. Make sure he doesn't spoil my plans." David nodded and Lionel kept his focus on the screen as Clark woke up. He saw the picture and snatched it from his fathers grip. Lionel's smile grew larger. He pushed his friend away and left, nervously holding the picture to his chest. The Kent family went inside and Pete got in his car. Lionel turned the monitor off and turned towards David, "I think we are ready to proceed with the plan. Have my next gift delivered immediately."

"Yes sir," David answered before leaving quietly.

Lionel sat back down in his chair and leaned back. He took his newest report in his hand and began looking through Clark's latest developments. He knew his plan was going to work and he was pleased with himself that everything had gone accordingly. Soon enough he would have his possession back and would be able to continue his research. His team of specialists had made remarkable strides with the amount of blood they had but would soon need more. Lionel could not take the risk of not gaining more samples. His life depended on it. Literally.


Clark dumped the dirty water out and put the bucket and sponge back in their places. He stood back and took a look at the now spotless tractor; he'd never seen it look so good. He then looked over at his dad's tool corner. Each tool was hung on its hook, the floor was swept and everything was in order. He hoped his dad would be happy that he had done both their chores and cleaned the tractor as well. Jonathan hadn't been home since his sudden departure after this afternoon's events and Clark felt satisfied that things were in tiptop shape for his return. He only hoped Jonathan would notice what he did and would forget the burden Clark was causing him.

He checked his watch; it had been about an hour since Pete left. He felt badly that Pete was upset but he really just wanted to be alone. He wasn't ready to share the detailed horrors of his ordeal with Pete, or anyone really. He was embarrassed that so much had been taken from him already and now it looked as if circumstances were setting up for another blow. He sighed and took one last glance at his work then decided to go inside for a shower. He walked back to the house and noticed his mom tending to the vegetable garden. She had on a large straw hat and her gardening gloves. He smiled. He knew she felt solace in gardening and was happy that she could do so after what happened today. He didn't want to interrupt her private time so he kept on to the house.

He stopped at the door and diligently wiped his shoes on the welcome mat before entering. He took a quick glance around the downstairs to see if there was anything that needed to be cleaned or straightened before he took a shower. He smiled because the house looked immaculate and he just knew his parents would feel he was indispensable since he helped keep such a nice home.

He started up the stairs and began to feel the increasing pull of lethargy as he got closer to his bedroom. He opened his door and slowly went to sit on the edge of the bed to remove his boots. He began to feel nauseated as he sat down. He thought that he must have been more exhausted than he realized from the emotional turmoil and extra chores today. He kicked his boots off and as he stood to put them away, a wave of dizziness washed over him. He sat back down and wiped the sweat from his brow. Once the dizziness passed he scooped his boots back up and proceeded to his closet to put them away. He felt his knees begin to buckle as he reached his closet door and he wondered what was wrong with him. Why did he feel so exhausted and dizzy? He opened the closet door and immediately stumbled backwards until he his legs hit his bed. His mouth hung open and his eyes went wide. His boots fell from his grip and landed with a thud next to him. Almost as if his knees gave way, he slid down the side of his bed onto the floor and pulled them to his chest.

There hanging from a rope in between his flannel shirts was a note tied securely to a baseball-sized piece of meteor rock. He squinted at it as it glowed a brilliant green. He hugged his legs tighter as he stared in disbelief at the swinging rock. After a minute he gathered up his strength and rose to his feet slowly, trying to steady himself against the bed. He stumbled forward a few steps to the closet and took a deep breath and held it. He reached his hand toward the note and gripped the edges with his fingers, all the while trying to avoid making contact with the rock itself. He shook from the force of the pain and his veins pulsated green up his arm. He held firmly and pulled hard on the note to dislodge it from the rope and rock. He fell backwards onto his butt and quickly crept back, away from the closet. Once he was a good distance away and felt well enough to stand he left the room as quickly as he could. He closed his door behind him and leaned against it with a heavy exhale.

Clark's stomach started to twist. He dashed to the bathroom, locked the door and fell to his knees at the toilet. He heaved twice before his stomach spilled into the bowl. The onslaught was fierce and he gasped for air between each retch until finally it stopped and he leaned back to catch his breath. Then he rose up to the sink and with a shaking hand he placed the crumbled note on the counter and splashed his face with cold water. He wiped his face and hands with a towel and picked up the note. He closed his eyes tight and took a deep breath, trying to find the courage he needed to read it. He finally let out his breath and opened it. He was shaking so hard he couldn't focus on the note so he clenched his muscles and held it firmly in place. It read, "There isn't anywhere you will be safe. Five more days, Clark." and was signed with an 'L' just as the previous note. Clark leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor again as he stared the note. He pulled his knees to his chest once again and rocked. He repeated the notes contents in his head and it dawned on him that he was being watched, everywhere. His eyes shot suspiciously around the small bathroom and he wondered if they saw him now. He shoved the note in his pocket as his stomach lurched again as he thought about might happen in 'five days'. He crawled on his hands and knees as quickly as he could manage and he threw up once again in the toilet.