The Kent house had this way of shutting out the whole world. Nothing bad could ever make it past those pale curtains blowing wistfully in the kitchen windows. Lex had just gone through a very harrowing week, but none of mattered sitting in the Kent kitchen with a warm mug of coffee in his hand. He glanced across the table at Martha Kent. Nothing could distract her from the gestures of hospitality, not even a meeting to discuss her son being imprisoned by one of the most notoriously dangerous men in existence. Martha still held a ready smile and a warm pot of coffee for Lex as he entered. But he saw the stress fraying the edges of her demeanor; the smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, and the thin lines edging her tired eyes. But it wasn't a façade; she was genuinely happy to see Lex when she greeted him, and not even the graveness of their circumstances could suppress that, and he truly admired her for it.
"So..what do we do now Lex."
"Well my men have reported seeing some activity inside two of the buildings my father owns; they're about a quarter of a mile from each other. One of the buildings has an underground garage, so I'm going to assume that's where they are keeping Clark. It would explain why there haven't been any sightings of people actually going in and out of the building."
Martha had a firm grasp of her husband's hand. Her voice was calm, but he could hear the edge of desperation in her voice.
"And…and you're sure Clark is still alive?"
Lex looked at her directly in the eyes. "I don't know that for certain Mrs. Kent, but they say we always know when people close to us leave this world…do you still feel like Clark is with us?"
Her eyes filled with tears, and she nodded.
Lex offered her a small smile of reassurance. "On a more practical note…and I hate to bring this up..but my father's intention is to use Clark, so I imagine he'd have to keep him alive."
Marth gripped her husband's hand harder at the thought of what Clark was enduring right now. The tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Jonathon pulled her a little closer to him. Lex could tell they were both trying very hard to remain calm and not get upset, but he could see what a toll this whole ordeal was taking on them.
"How exactly do you plan to get into the building without being stopped?"
Lex was prepared for that question, and though he had his doubts his plan would work, he decided to be nothing but optimistic when he answered Mr. Kent.
"I've managed to buy off a couple of guards. They refuse to admit to Clark being there, but they are willing, at a considerable fee, to gain us access into the building and take us to the lab. They promised to create a diversion, to allow us time to get to Clark. It all sounds very simple, but it will be extremely dangerous, which is why I need to go into the building alone."
Jonathon shook his head emphatically. "There's no way I'm letting you do that Lex. Clark is my son, if there are any risks to take, I'll be the one taking them."
"I appreciate that Mr. Kent, but Clark needs both of his parents alive when he gets out of this. Its just easier for one person to get into the building than two."
"Lex, I'm sorry, but I'm going with you to get my son."
Lex looked to Martha for help.
"Jonathan, Lex is right. I don't want you getting hurt."
"Martha, I know, and I'm sorry.. but I need to do this." He turned to Lex. "When do we leave?"
"Late tonight. Mrs. Kent, I'd like it if you'd come with us and wait at the penthouse. I plan on taking Clark there first."
"Why the penthouse."
"I think its better if we stop there for the night first. I don't think Clark will be able to travel that far right away."
Jonathan started to protest, but Martha put a hand on his shoulder. "Ok, we'll be ready to leave tonight."
Lex rose to go. "Don't worry Mr. and Mrs. Kent, if all goes well, this time tomorrow, Clark will be home."
Clark awoke a couple of hours later, huddled in a corner, shivering. His entire body felt like one giant aching wound. He must have passed out at some point during the beating. The guards didn't utter a single angry word to him; they just beat him wordlessly—letting the batons say everything they wouldn't. A blanket lay near him and he moved cautiously towards it. His hands were caked with blood, where he tried pointlessly to deflect the blows. There was a small wet puddle beneath him; his stomach lurched when he realized it was his own blood. He took a deep breath, trying to ease his queasiness, but it wouldn't subside. He felt a familiar throbbing around his ankles. A glance down revealed two wire-thin anklets adorning him, glowing a sickening green. Clark carefully moved to a sitting position and pulled the blanket around him. The room was dark, but he could still tell the bed had been removed. There was only a lone lamp in the corner turned off. Clark laughed bitterly to himself. Things were definitely going to change around here.
Suddenly the room flooded with light, Clark shielded his eyes against the sudden brightness. He looked up to see a mane of hair silhouetted against door jam. He braced himself against the wall in anticipation.
"Mr. Kent, I thought we had a deal."
Clark looked up at Lionel coldly, not answering.
"You give me what I want, and in exchange I keep you as comfortable as I can." He leaned down towards Clark. "Didn't I do that? Wasn't I accommodating?"
"If you think…"
"No! I don't want to hear your excuses! Do you have any idea what you've cost me today? How much work, and time you've wasted? It'll take more than a week to repair that lab."
Clark glared at Lionel, not quite believing his ears. The man couldn't possible expect him to be sorry for what he did.
"Good."
"Good? Oh Clark you clearly underestimate me. You seem to think I won't let any real harm come to you. Trust me, I will if I have to. I've been too kind, trying to treat you like a human being, when we both know you're nothing of the kind. If you want to resume our previous arrangements, then I suggest you learn to cooperate. I'll give you some time to think about it. I'll return in three days for your answer. And if you won't listen to reason, you'll die in this room."
Clark's gaze never wavered; he stared unflinching and defiant at him. For some reason this enraged Lionel, and he reached down and grabbed Clark by the throat. He seemed to consider something, then think better of it. He let Clark go with a shove into the wall.
Clark lunged at Lionel with all this strength, but missed him by inches. The effort caused Clark to gag, and cough; a clot of blood escaped his mouth. Lionel drew back laughing softly.
"Three days Mr. Kent..provided you last that long." Lionel shut the door behind him.
Clark slowly raised himself up, wiping the blood from his mouth. He drew the blanket tightly around himself, wishing the shivering would stop.
He felt surprisingly calm. His act of defiance shed his feeling of being a victim, giving him hope finally. He'd been full of so much misery and anger, and so willing to give up for so long, he'd forgotten what being alive meant. He realized now, he had no right to give up on the life his parents spent their whole lives trying to protect. There were people who loved him, and who were waiting for him. He'd simply have to find a way to get back to them. Clark wrapped the blanket closer around his body, curled up on the floor and tried to sleep.