After a few hours, Clark forced himself out of bed and walked to the small bathroom. He took a long, hot shower, and washed his hair. He felt ashamed of his pathetic state of the last few hours. He found his jeans on a chair and put them on, along with the sweater. He stopped and looked around the room. He let the realization of where he was wash over him. It was too tiring to try and push everything away constantly. As long as he hid, he'd never get out of this situation, and somehow, he intended to find a way. Yesterday nearly crippled him. It was something he couldn't even comprehend. They treated his body as if it meant nothing to him. He was a project now, no longer a person; there was no point in trying to get them to see otherwise. He had to accept it, or he'd never leave there alive. He glanced around the sparsely furnished room. There was a bed, with a tall lamp next to it. A chair in a corner and a counter with small drawers under it, which Clark guessed didn't contain more clothing. He sat on the bed and heard the soft crinkle of paper as he sat down. He felt inside his back pocket and pulled out the piece of paper. It was the letter Lex had given him from Chloe. He'd forgotten all about it. That part of his life seemed so far away now. He opened the letter and immediately recognized Chloe's determined scrawl.

'Clark, I hope this reaches you. Lex claims he doesn't know where you are, but I know he's lying. Obviously you're in some kind of trouble, and Lex is involved, and knowing Lex he's doing everything he can. So I'm not too worried. I've been doing some digging of my own, and for the first time, I'm coming up with nothing. So whatever it is you're going through Clark, please be careful, and come home safely. I guess you probably want to know the simple things, like what's going on in sleepy little Smallville. I have to say, the town seems pretty bleak without you. I haven't seen much of your parents, and they've told everyone you're away visiting relatives. I don't think most people believe them, especially after your disappearance last summer. Come home soon, and if you need me, I'm here.'

Clark pressed the paper against his face, trying to enhale something of his former life. He immediately felt silly for doing it, smiling slightly at himself. After reading the letter again, he put back in his pocket. Everything clicked together in his mind. He walked out into the other room, stopping slightly when saw the table he'd spent nearly a week on. He forced down the sudden wave of anxiety and walked over to the door. He stood in front of the digital panel and thought back to the pattern he'd memorized. He noted the numbers and walked back towards the room. He placed the bracelet in a draw so there was no chance of any of its effect reaching him. He wanted to have all of his strength for what he intended to try tonight.

Lex waited just beyond the property line of the Kent farm. He sat in his Porsche, until he saw what he'd been waiting almost 2 hours for. The young girl approached the road just on the other side of the entrance to the Kent farm. It was the same girl he saw briefly when he visited Clark at the hotel. He hadn't heard from Clark all week. He'd tried to call him on his cell phone, and there was no answer. When he visited the hotel, he was told Clark and the girl left and never returned; their belongings were still in the room. And now, here was this girl, in Smallville with Clark no where in sight. He had no choice but to assume the obvious. Today he intended to find some answers. He's spotted her here yesterday, and wasn't sure why he recognized her at first. The realization hit him late last night, and like he hoped, she returned to the same spot. Lex got out of his car, and walked up the road, hoping she wouldn't run when she saw him. She turned towards him and stood very still watching his approaching figure. Her instincts told her to run, but she didn't. She realized suddenly this is what she'd been waiting for– a way to help Clark.

Clark stood in front of the door, staring at the digital numbers. He ran the numbers over and over in his head, willing his fingers toward the buttons. He'd waited until the last guard checked on him and turned out all the lights. Clark then slipped out of bed, still clad in his jeans and pulled the sweater on. He had no idea what happened to his shoes, but he didn't need them. That was twenty minutes ago and Clark still stood in front of the door. He listened hard again to detect any sound beyond the walls. He was pretty sure everyone was gone. He only wished he could see through the walls, but they were made of lead. Of course he knew he was just stalling. He knew there was a huge chance it wouldn't work, he wouldn't get free, and things would probably be even worse if he was caught. But he'd laid in this room too long being victimized–he needed to do this, even if he lost. He needed to fight.

He punched the numbers and the door immediately slid open. The pain ripped through him like a thousand knives, and he wavered, trying hard to stay focused, and not collapse in the threshold. Alarms started screaming loudly and Clark pushed himself forward on unsteady legs and moved as fast as he could. His head swam, and there was a fierce green glow surrounding him, but he kept running. He could barely see in front of him, and all he saw were two dark shadows approaching him. He tried to move faster, but he was finding it harder to even breathe. The pain was relentless; his entire body felt like it was on fire, and he knew it was about to be over. Two arms grabbed him, pulling him towards the room. He screamed at them to let him go. Suddenly he thought he'd rather die, than be placed in that room again. He struggled in their grasp, but a third guard came to help them and together they picked him up easily and threw him down on the table. They immediately activated the metal restraints. Clark gathered all of his strength and shoved one of the guards, snapping one of the restraints in the process. The guard flew into a far wall, and collapsed sprawled on the floor. The other two moved back instinctively, until one quickly came to his senses.

"What are you doing? Hold him, he'll kill us!"

The guard ran to hold Clark down, while the other one, opened the door to the room, yelling for backup. Clark cried out in pain, and pleaded with them to close the door. The guard fixed the door open in response. He was exhausted, drenched in sweat and shaking from head to toe. His mind reeled. He couldn't think straight, he just wanted the pain to stop. He was tired of being in pain; tired of being held in that room, and tired of all of these strangers, doing whatever they liked to him. He wanted it to end, all of it. He fought with the last bit of strength he had, but he felt his body start to fail him, as his breathing become more ragged.

"Should we get the needle?"

Clark's eyes went wide.

"I'm..not sure, they said it was dangerous..only in emergencies."

"This is a emergency!"

"Look..he's calming down...I think we'd better close the door though..they want him well tomorrow, for whatever the hell they're doing to him. Just cancel backup, we can handle him now."

He closed the door, and the other went to help up the guard Clark had obviously injured. They returned and finished strapping Clark to the table. They left him laying there as they closed the door and turned off all the lights. He laid there in the dark, letting the despair he knew was coming, overtake him. He'd allow himself this one moment to let all the fear and anger consume him, and to mourn the person he used to be, knowing he'd never be that person again, whether he made it out of there alive or not. Clark sobbed in the dark alone, until he was too tired to open his eyes