A/N: One chap, and an epilogue to go!
5/6
Clark squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the bullet to hit. Waiting for the loud sound of the gunshot echoing off the walls. For the metal to slam into his forehead, forcing it's way towards his brain. For the blood to pour down his face. And, for the blackness that was going to come.
It didn't come.
Clark opened one eye just to see what happened. Lionel's smirk was what he saw. "W-what? I, y-you…"
"Please, don't stutter Mr. Kent. It's quite annoying. And, if you must know this pistol isn't loaded. But, I will inform you that I do have some that are. And, next time I won't be afraid to use it. Is that clear?"
Clark nodded. He was still too shocked to say anything.
"Verbal responses are highly recommended Mr. Kent. I'm sure you don't want to find out the consequences if you don't."
Clark gulped. "How did I get here?"
Lionel gave him an odd look. "Surely you would remember. Do you not? Well, seeing as you were very much out of it, I shouldn't be surprised. You were asleep, and while you were unconscious I had my men come in. To make sure you didn't wake up, I had them drug you. How did it work you might ask? Well, it was a simple sedative mixed with Kryptonite." He paused, taking in Clark's reaction. "Yes, Kryptonite. Mr. Kent, I would be very appreciative if you didn't seem so surprised whenever I mention something you have tried to keep secret. Now, as I was saying it was mixed with Kryptonite, and it seems you didn't take to it very well. From what I could tell you had quite the nightmare. On the way over here you were thrashing around a lot."
iIt was a dream? All that pain was a dream? The water, the animal, the rain…/i None of it happened, yet Clark under any other circumstances would have sworn it had. It had been too real. The teeth digging into his flesh, the rain pounding into the open wound. The Kryptonite flowing through his veins. No, it couldn't simply be just a sedative mixed with meteor. It had to be more.
"You're lying. That wouldn't make me have a nightmare like that. It was too real to be a simple dream." It had to be. Clark would never dream of anything like that. Ever.
"My, what would make you think that? But, I guess telling you wouldn't hurt anything." He walked over to the table, and picked up a needle. It had a pale green mixture in it. "It was much like this here. Hallucinogens mixed with a heavy sedative, that has melted Kryptonite in it. Now, if you don't mind I would like to ask the questions from now on."
Lionel pulled up a stool, and sat on it not far from where Clark was lying on the floor. "Still feeling weak? I'm sure that the Kryptonite hasn't fully gotten out of your system yet. And…" Lionel trailed off as he stuck a hand into his pocket. He pulled out a piece of meteor. "This might have something to do with it as well."
Clark winced as the Kryptonite was pulled out, not that it hurt him any more. It just bothered him that it was around. The glow that it produced around him sickened him. It was running off of his own energy. Draining it just to throw off a faint glow.
"Mr. Kent." Clark's train of thought broke as Lionel again started questioning him. "Just where is Krypton? Why did you leave?"
"If you know everything like you claim, than you should know the answer!" Clark spat out.
Lionel clicked his tongue as if he cared. "I'm sorry to hear you say that Mr. Kent." He again raised up the needle filled with his little concoction. "Sweet dreams." He got off the stool and squatted next to Clark. Clark tried to get away, but he was too tired. The needle was jammed into his neck, and Lionel pressed the mixture into his body. As he pulled it out, he wiggled it a bit just to add more discomfort.
Clark tried not to let the drugs take effect. But, his world was growing blurry, and his eyelids were quickly getting heavier. As the Kryptonite found his blood stream, he let out a low moan. It hurt like hell. Someone might as well have liquefied fire and poured that into his system. It might not have hurt as much.
Lionel's smirk was the last thing he saw before he gave in, and fell unconscious.
Clark yawned. He looked over at Lana who was sitting on the recliner on the other side of the plane. iWe only just took off 20 minutes ago. Don't get tired out yet, Kent. It's a long way to Paris./i "So, Lana, did you tell your friend we were on our way?"
Lana looked up, and smiled. "Yeah, I told her before we took off. She'll be at the airport when we get there." She walked over, and sat on the couch by Clark. "It was nice of Lex to lend us his plane, you know."
Clark yawned again. "I know. I am not going to like this flight. How many hours is it again?"
Lana opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as a loud clanking could be heard from one of the engines. The plane seemed to hit some turbulence, and started shaking wildly. Lana looked at Clark with wide eyes, before losing her balance and was thrown across the plane. She hit the wall hard, and didn't move.
Things that were in the plane were crashing to the floor. Some of Lex's scotch, wine glasses, luggage, and more flew everywhere. The glass shattered and scattered over the floor.
The pilot opened the door, and started to yell at Clark. Any human wouldn't have been able to hear over the roar of the failing engine. But, Clark heard just fine. "The engine's blown! We have to jump! The parachu-" The plane's door blew open, and the pilot was out of the craft before he could finish his sentence, falling to his death.
iWhere did this go wrong/i He thought, as he checked on Lana. iNo. Oh, God, no. NO/i She wasn't breathing. She didn't have a pulse. The plane tilted towards to it's left side, and the gapping hole where the door used to be came close as Clark fell towards it. He tried to make his way back to Lana, but before he could…
She had fallen out the plane. "Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!" iThis bcan't/b be happening! The pilot. Lana…/i She was gone. Lana was gone, and she wasn't coming back.
Clark was flipped over his head as the plane finally made contact with ground. But, when he landed it actually hurt. Shards of glass dug into his skin. The plane tilted and fell more, tossing Clark three feet away. Before he could even catch his breath, the couch he and Lana had been sitting on crashed into him, knocking him unconscious.
Lionel watched as Clark thrashed on the floor, sweating and yelling things that no one could understand. iIt's the perfect torture. Let the victims own mind make them suffer, and do things that I can't even think of./i He thought. Looking over to a man in a white lab coat standing nearby, Lionel cleared his throat. "How long will he be out? I only gave him half as much as last time." He asked when Clark's cries had suddenly stopped.
The doctor, or maybe even scientist, thought for a moment. "Oh, another hour or so Mr. Luthor. Plenty of time for him to go through more." He had said it so casually, it was almost scary.
"Good. When he wakes up, get me immediately." He than walked out, leaving the drugged Clark with two guards, and the doctor. As he left, Clark screamed again.
Clark blinked his eyes, but squeezed them shut again when blood flew into them. He tried to get up, but something heavy was on top of his stomach. iThe couch./i He thought bitterly. Than, he remembered what had happened to Lana. Tears mixed with the blood.
Something crashed into his leg, making him scream. Whatever it was, it was sharp and painful. He couldn't see beyond the couch, but he wasn't sure he wanted to. He let out another yell of pain as the couch shifted a little underneath him, digging into his chest. His breathing became harsh, and jagged as the couch began to block the room his lungs needed to fill with air.
The doctor had been writing something on a chart, when he heard Clark wheezing for breath. Looking up, he saw that the boy was beginning to turn blue from lack of oxygen. He glanced at one of the guards. "Get Mr. Luthor, now!" The man quickly fled the room.
"Ok, doc. What's wrong? What's wrong…" He said to himself. "There wasn't too much Kryptonite…" Than he realized the truth. "The dream! His body is reacting to the dream. All right, what did the professor say about lucid dreams?" He gritted his teeth, remembering how he used to goof off in med school. "Wonderful timing to realize your should have been paying attention. Get me a ventilator!" He demanded, knowing the second guard was supposed to do whatever he told him.
"Ok, Clark. Come on. Come on, breath!" He began rescue breathing, but wasn't getting any response.
Lionel ran into the room just than. "What is going on!" He saw the still, blue form of Clark on the floor. "What the hell is wrong with him, Jack?"
Jack, for that was the doctor's name, just sighed. "Sometimes, when you are having a lucid dream, your body reacts to whatever is happening in the dream. Apparently, our friend here is dreaming that he can't breath. And, I can't get him to respond to rescue breathing, either."
The second guard had returned, carrying a portable ventilator that he had gotten from the medical closet that Jack kept his supplies in. The doctor quickly hooked it up, putting the tube to Clark's nose. "Ok, come on. Breathe!" Jack half-way yelled to the unconscious boy.
He turned on the ventilator, and it pushed air into Clark's lungs. He started getting his color back, when for some reason the machine just stopped.
"What the hell?" Jack studied the machine for a moment. "The damn battery leaked fluid all inside it! " He ripped the tube out of Clark's nose, and started to blow air into his mouth once again. In between breaths, he looked up at Lionel. "Sir, you better hope for a miracle, because I don't think he'll survive without one."