Clark bucked against the straps, pulling wildly. Tears fell from the corner of his eyes, as he twisted his head in exasperation. Lionel noticing the state he was in, reentered the room and placed his hand on Clark's hairhe immediately jerked his head away. "Just relax Mr. Kent, it'll all be over before you know it."

His eyes looked terrified, and a murderous rage filled him. They quickly affixed a band embedded with a large strip kryptonite around his ankle. Clark's limbs went limp as it touched his skin.

Lionel leaned closer to Clark, speaking almost in a whisper close to his ear. "You want me dead don't you Clark? Unfortunately you'll never get that chance. What I'm doing is for the good of the entire human population. I'm afraid you're just a casualty."

Clark glowered at Lionel, wanting to bash him with his head—his only available weapon, but the first cut of the knife into his flesh made him freeze. His eyes went wide with shock. He gasped as the pain shot through him. But it was only the first cut. Clark panicked, knowing the worst was coming. He yanked at his restraints with every ounce of strength he had, but it wasn't enough to even jar the surgeon's precise cutting. The surgeon made a deeper cut, dragging the blade across his abdomen. As much as the doctor managed to remove himself mentally from the proceedings, he never wanted to hear that sound again. It was much more than a scream. Clark's guttural wail echoed off the walls, and he tried feebly to pull at the surgeon's hand. He watched in horror as blood poured from the gaping incision.

"Please…..I can't..you have to stop…please!"

Clark looked wildly around the room for Lionel, hoping somehow he could reach some small part of humanity in him that wasn't dead. But Lionel was gone—his shadowy figure could be seen just beyond the glass. Clark wailed as they pulled back the folds of his flesh, and prayed for unconsciousness, or death, he didn't care. As the scalpel made its first cut into his liver, Clark could stand the pain no more, and slipped into darkness.

Over the next few hours, Clark slipped in and out of consciousness, awaking to unbearable, blinding pain, before slipping back into the dark. It seemed like a long, never-ending nightmare. Nothing was real but the pain. And finally, mercifully—it stopped.

When he woke again, he was back in the small bedroom. There were no more doctors, no more knives. The room was dark, except for a tiny lamp giving off a small dull light in the corner. His whole body burned, and itched as it tried to knit itself back together. There was a wide bandage across his midsection and both bands of kryptonite had been removed. He tried to move, but pain shot up his chest, making him lay still. He felt numb. He'd screamed, cried, begged, and now there was nothing left. How could anyone comprehend what was done to him? It was torture. They call it science, but they tortured him, and for what? Because he came from somewhere they don't understand. For the first time in his entire life, he wished his birth parents never sent him to this place. He would have preferred to be blown up with the rest of his planet.

The door to his room opened, and Dr. Allen walked in. Clark turned his head to look at the wall.

"Hello Clark.." her voice was very quiet.

He didn't turn to look at her.

She walked cautiously over to his bed. "Are you still in any pain?"

Clark turned and looked at her sharply. He remained silent, holding her gaze until she was forced to look away.

"Clark..I just came to say goodbye. I've been relieved of my duties. I can't say that I'm upset about that."

"So you can pretend none of this happened?" His voice was still weak, but the bitterness was clear.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you Clark. But I don't think my presence would have made any difference."

"What do you want Doctor?"

"I wanted to ask if there was anything I could do…for you when I leave."

He looked at her coldly. "Find Lex, and tell him to come and get me out of this hell."

"Lionel's son?"

Clark nodded.

"But why would his son help you?"

"He will."

"Ok..I'll try and contact him then…Is there anything else I can do?..anyone else you'd like me to contact?"

He looked at her, and his gaze softened a little. It nearly broke her.

"Sun…I need the sun..it'll help me heal.."

"Really?...Clark..honestly..the longer you take to heal, the longer you'll have some peace."

"I don't intend to be here much longer."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm tired Dr. Allen."

"Clark?"

He closed his eyes and turned away. Dr. Allen took one last look at him, and she gently closed the door behind her.