The ride home for the Kents was quiet and uneventful. When they got home, Martha tried to distract herself by doing different things around the house, while Jonathan went out to do the farm work. A little while later, the phone rang, startling Martha at first, but she still answered it quickly.

"Hello?"

"Mrs. Kent?" the voice on the other end asked.

"Yes, what is it?"

There was silence for a moment before the voice answered, "Could you and your husband come down to the hospital? There's something we need to discuss."

"Of course, we'll be right over." She hung up the phone and went out to the barn where her husband was stacking hay bales. "Jonathan," she said.

He turned around and smiled. "Hi honey." He studied her features closely and noticed the fear in her eyes. "What is it?"

She hesitated before talking again. "W-we need to get over to the hospital."

He nodded, and without another word, reached for his keys and walked swiftly toward the truck with Martha close behind.

Jonathan drove swiftly to the hospital, all the while having thoughts whirring in his head. Why do we need to go to the hospital? Did something go wrong? What if…. He didn't let himself finish that last thought as they pulled into a parking spot. Both got out of the truck and walked quickly to the entrance doors.

They reached the admittance desk and saw Doctor Haslam waiting there for them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Good, you're here. Would you follow me please?" she asked.

They looked at each other and walked on behind the doctor. They finally reached her office where they sat down on opposite sides of a desk.

Jonathan leaned forward "Is he…?"

She shook her head, "No, he's fine. For now, anyway."

Martha raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean 'for now'?"

The doctor sighed. "He's stable, but that could go either way right now."

"Look, the real reason I called you here is to ask you if it is alright to get some extra help. I can't do this by myself. I have other patients to see, and if anything went south while I'm not here, there's no telling what would happen."

Jonathan clasped his hands together. "How much more help would it take, exactly?"

"Only a few nurses to come in and check up on him while I did my rounds but that's it."

Martha thought for a moment. "I guess that would be alright; as long as it's only a few. But could we really trust them?"

Doctor Haslam leaned over the desk "What do you mean 'trust them'?"

Martha shook her head, "It's nothing. I was just thinking out loud."

Jonathan fidgeted in his seat, and then asked, "Do you think we could see him without anyone knowing we're here?"

She nodded, "We'll just have to take a little detour, but I think that can be arranged. If you'll follow me, I can show you the way."

The couple quietly followed the doctor down a deserted hallway and to a hidden room. Inside that room was a battered teenage boy, thought to be dead by his peers, but in reality was alive and lying comatose, unaware of what was going on around him.

Martha went over to the bed, pulled one of the hard, plastic chairs up to the bed and sat down. She leaned forward and stroked her boy's hair while tears streamed silently down her face.

Jonathan came up behind her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be alright, Martha. We just need to give the sheriff some time."

She nodded. "I know, Jonathan, but just look at this. We have had to go as far as faking his death just to keep him alive. Besides that, look what this is doing to his friends! I can't stand those looks, Jonathan; it's breaking my heart."

As Jonathan started to say something, a groan was heard from the bed. Mother and Father looked over to see Clark starting to stir.

He cracked his eyes open and looked at his surroundings. There were machines everywhere and various things making beeping noises. Confused, he looked over to his side and saw two blurry figures. He blinked to clear his vision and saw his parents, one sitting, while the other stood right behind.

He licked his dry lips before speaking. "Mom, Dad, where…?" His voice was barely audible as he spoke those words.

"Clark, we're right here, you're in the hospital," she told him, stroking his hand.

At those words Clark's eyes shot open and he struggled to get up. "No! They'll find out; we've gotta get out of here!"

Alarmed by her son's sudden force, Martha leapt from her chair as Jonathan got on the other side of the bed and gently forced Clark to lie down.

"Clark, calm down buddy, it's okay; you're safe."

Hearing his father's voice, the boy settled down and looked up at him. "What happened?" he asked.

Jonathan looked from his son to his wife, trying to decide what words would be best to use.

"Derek," Jonathan finally said, "came to the house after you had passed out and he beat you almost to death. We all thought you weren't going to make it, but here you are, alive and safe."

Clark nodded and closed his eyes. "Where's Lana? I want to see her."

The parents looked at each other; how were they going to explain that everyone dear to Clark thought he was dead?