Clark gripped the walls tightly as he made his way towards Lex's penthouse. He pretended to be asleep most of the car ride, so he wouldn't have to talk just yet. His weakness since his father found him scared him a little—it wasn't something he felt he could afford yet. He desperately wanted to believe this marked the beginning of the end, but the last several weeks taught him the danger of false hopes.

But for now he simply concentrated on walking his own.

His father stepped aside to let him open the door himself. He turned the knob gingerly and slowly pulled the door open. Martha Kent felt her stomach drop and something twist sharply inside of her. She stood, paralyzed in front of the door; in front of her only child. Tears spilled without warning when she saw the way he straightened his back, and leaned away from his father to stand on his own. It was such a Clark thing to do; to do anything to relieve her of even a small amount of pain. His tall, very strong frame was thin, she could tell even through the blanket he wrapped tighter around himself. His once clear, bright eyes were dark and rimmed in deep shadows. But he smiled weakly at her still, and once she wrapped her arms around him, she was happy just to feel him again. The smell of old blood filled her nostrils, but she didn't let go. She felt Clark's tears against her neck and he cried softly into her shoulder, while his father kept a strong arm around him to hold him up. Clark was crumbling before their eyes, and Martha knew she needed to sooth him somehow, quickly. She gently pulled Clark off of her with Jonathan's help. Clark snapped his head up looking at them both, finally taking in where he was—and where he wasn't. His legs faltered and his father caught him.

"Its ok Clark…we need to get you into a bath."

He nodded, and allowed himself to be guided by his parents. His mother ran a warm bath, while his father sat him down in the bathroom, and carefully removed the blanket. Clark shuddered at his father's touch, but remained still, trying to remember it was his father's hands on him and he wouldn't hurt him. Once the water was ready, his mother averted her eyes out of politeness while his father helped him into the warm bath. Jonathan grabbed a nearby wash cloth, but Martha stopped him.

"I'll do it Jonathan—Clark needs me right now."

He nodded and walked out the door, leaving them alone in the bathroom. Martha picked up the cloth, soaking it in the tub and let the warm water run down Clark's back. She watched his jaw tense, then slowly relax as she repeated the motion several times. Clark closed his eyes finally and let the simplicity of the warm bath and his mother at his side sooth him. She tried not to notice the water turning a dark pink rapidly as she cleansed the blood from him, or the scars covering his body, or the way his ribs protruded. She pushed away all thoughts of why her normally affectionate son would tremble at the touch of his own parents. She knew she had to stay calm for him right now, because she could see him coming apart at the seams in his own quiet way.

She ran a hand through his wet hair, and he leaned into her palm slightly.

"Clark..after this we're going to get you out of here, and get you home."

He didn't look at her. "What about Lionel?"

"Let Lex take care of that…you only worry about yourself right now. "

"He's dangerous Mom…even to Lex.."

She heard the quiet panic in his voice, and turned his face to look at her.

"You only worry about yourself. Do you understand? You can't help Lex or anyone else, if you can't take care of yourself."

He nodded slightly. "This is so surreal Mom.."

She kissed his face. "I know baby….but it is real, and you're going home."

Lex stood by his bar, with a scotch in his hand. Jonathan was going over the logistics of getting back to Smallville, with Lex nodding his affirmation occasionally. He knew neither one of them was thinking about the car ride back; they were both thinking of a very broken Clark in the other room.

As if sensing this, Jonathan said completely out of the blue "He'll be ok Lex…we just need to get him home, and he'll be fine. Clark's strong, and it'll be hard, but he has us, and we'll do everything we can for him."

Lex watched the dark liquid swirl in his glass, not wanting to give himself the satisfaction of it going down his throat just yet.

"He is strong Mr. Kent..but he's been through a lot..I hope you realize you may need outside help, if he's really going to be ok, and I hope you'll allow me to help."

Jonathan turned to protest, when the door opening interrupted him. It took him a moment to digest that Lionel Luthor was standing in front of them suddenly. Lex moved towards him, but he pointed a gun at Jonathan.

"Don't do anything foolish son. I believe you have something that belongs to me. Just return it and I'll be on my way."

"Belongs to you!..My son is not some thing you own!" Jonathan rushed towards him in a rage, but Lionel closed the distance, pressing the barrel of the gun firmly into his chest.

"Mr. Kent stop!"

Clark jerked his head up when he heard the shouting, he didn't need his super-hearing to recognize Lionel's voice. Before his mother could stop him, he shot out of the bath, grabbed and towel and sped into the room. Lionel saw Clark appear suddenly and a look of sheer glee crossed his face.

"Well Clark, you are full of surprises, I'll…"

Clark was suddenly in front of him, and his hand was wrapped firmly around his throat. He had grabbed the gun out of Lionel's hand and tossed it away. Now he held Lionel a few inches off the ground, pressed against the wall. All he had to do was squeeze just a little bit—that's all it would take, and his neck would crumble in his hands. Clark's breathing had grown ragged, and his eyes were wild and glazed over. Jonathan looked at him in shock, realizing what he intended to do.

"Clark, no…son, please, you have to let him go."

Clark pressed his thumb against his windpipe and watched with satisfaction as Lionel's face turned bright red as he struggled for breathe.

Lex watched the scene, fascinated by the pureness of Clark's rage. He glanced down at the discarded gun near his feet.

Clark flexed the muscles in his arm, readying to inflict the final blow, when a load bang exploded in his ears. He felt the wetness on his face before he saw the gaping hole in Lionel's skull. Shocked he dropped Lionel's limp body and stepped quickly away from it. He knew who'd done it before he turned to face him. He turned his head slowly just as Lex lowered the still smoking gun. Clark stared at him with wide eyes, and for the first time since they rescued him, Lex didn't look away.