Clark sat on the play ground watching the other various kids playing games, as he had become older, it was driving him insane not to be allowed to play games other kids played. He was the only one in his family who knew what it was like.

"If it isn't little Clarkie, what's wrong Clarkie, mommy say you couldn't play again," spoke another boy. Clark scowled at the eighth grader who was always picking on him. The boy had been relentless lately, Clark had contained himself so far, knowing his super strength could seriously hurt someone, and if he wasn't careful he could easily kill the kid. Without Pete here today, Clark hadn't been in much of a mood to do anything anyway, he groaned and looked up at Seth.

"Leave me alone Seth," muttered Clark. His father had warned him about being careful, many times over. Clark stood up and started walking away; Seth's hand jutted out and stopped him.

"What's wrong Clarkie, afraid to fight?" Clark bit his lip, his fists clinched as he tried to continue. He felt the hard shove, his head hitting the brick wall behind him. He knew that would leave a mark, not a big mark, but one nevertheless.

"I'm not going to fight with you Seth, leave me alone," Clark stated in a very low voice. He hated this, he knew that if he did get into a fight with Seth, he would end up getting in more trouble at home for it, but if he didn't he'd get hit and look like a loser.

"I don't recall asking you Clarkie. Is that what you're mommy calls you...oops I forgot she's not your mommy, your mommy didn't want you," Clark seethed. He grabbed Seth by the shirt color, suddenly pain hit him like a ton of bricks. Burning pain, a pain he had only felt once before in his life, two years ago. He felt himself grow pale.

"What's wrong Clarkie, not up to it!" the boy bit. He threw Clark to the ground, causing Clark to grunt. Clark was vaguely aware of the word "fight" being chanted as Seth dropped on top of him and began to pound the day lights out of Clark. That wasn't what he was focusing on, he could feel his energy, his strength, his power being slowly sucked away, in a burning livid pain. He looked up at Seth, and caught sight of the green necklace around the older boy's neck, the necklace which was shining bright green.

Martha raced to the school in fear, she had received a phone call just over half an hour ago from the principal of Clark's school, telling her Clark had been involved in a fight. She didn't know whether she should be livid with him, or terrified that he might be hurt despite his strength.

When she entered she saw another young boy sitting there, his father by his side. The father didn't look any happier than Martha felt. Martha looked around for Clark, he wasn't in the office. 'dear god let him be okay,' she thought silently.

"Mrs. Kent?" asked a woman, Martha assumed she was the secretary.

"Yes, my son Clark, is he all right? Where is he?" she asked.

"Follow me," Martha followed the woman into a small room with a desk, a couple cabinets, a fridge, a bathroom, and a sink, there was a cot to the car corner of the office, and there lay her son.

"My god, Clark," she whispered. She hurried over to him and sat on the small cot. He rolled over and looked at her, his nose was still bleeding, and he had a bruise on the side of his face. What wasn't bruised was pale and had a green tint to it, "are you all right?" She asked.

"I'm sorry mama, I didn't mean to do it," he cried as he buried his bruised face in her shoulder. She held him close, cuddling with him. Another woman, the school nurse probably, approached her and smiled weakly.

"I'm sorry to have to call you Mrs. Kent, but Clark insisted that he didn't want to go to the hospital, he just wanted you. He's not in any real trouble, however the principal has to suspend him for the duration of a week due to the fact he was fighting," Martha nodded and looked down at her son.

"Will he be all right?" she asked looking at his face. He was still crying, and clutching at his stomach.

"Nothing a little rest and love could cure. You're son didn't start the fight, but please understand there are two parts to a fight."

"He will be punished," Martha lied. She couldn't punish him if she wanted. She sighed and kissed his forehead, "may I take him home?" she asked. The woman nodded.

"Take him to the ER if he continues to feel bad," Martha nodded and helped her son get off the cot. He looked at her, tears in his eyes, tears and fear.

"Please mama..." she nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was nearly as tall as she was.

"Shh, you're okay sweetheart, we'll talk about it with dad at home, okay," Clark slowly nodded and headed out of the office with his mother. He was suddenly stopped by Seth's father.

"Mrs. Kent, I want you to know...we're not bad parents, we have five children most are well behaved children. Seth... I don't know, but please forgive him for what he did. We'll understand if you want to press charges. The fact is Seth won't be returning to this school."

"We won't press charges, but get your son help. A child doesn't hit another unless he's calling out for help," Martha stated, she wrapped her arm tighter around Clark's shoulders and led him to the car.

Clark was breathing heavier when they finally got into the car, "are you all right?" Martha asked him.

"Remember a couple years ago, when I said I didn't feel good?"

"Yes."

"This was the same feeling, mom..." tears welled in his eyes as he looked at her, "it felt like I was going to die," he whimpered. She sighed and gently pulled him close.

"You're not going to die. Let's get you home and in a warm bath," Clark nodded and sat silently next to his mother in the truck.