Chapter Six:

"What in God's name happened to you?" Dr. Crosby did nothing to hide the shock in her voice.

"This is the result of Clark being under the influence of another type of Kryptonite, a man made amalgam"

"Another kryptonite? How?" she watched Anna carefully place her briefcase onto a desk.

"They combined the green with the red, added a little something and it was a very dark red, almost purple colour"

"And what happened?" Anna sighed slowly.

"It's all in my report but Clark went psychotic. The green kryptonite caused him a lot of pain still but coupled with the red and what that does to him, it wasn't very pretty. He trashed up the laboratory pretty good"

"And you too it would seem" despite herself, Anna smiled.

"Me too, but I'll survive. What worried me was how quickly this new kryptonite overloaded his system. He had maybe five, ten minutes of this intense, overpowering rage and then he collapsed, even without the constraints of the green k manacles, he went out like a light" she frowned.

"That doesn't sound good at all" Anna looked at her.

"We need to get him out of there immediately. I've got a feeling that Dr. Graham is going to work on that purple kryptonite a bit more, to what ends, I'm not sure but I'm not happy with it" Dr. Crosby regarded her.

"It takes time to gather a team capable enough to get inside the institute and get him in there"

"If you wait any longer then it'll be a body salvage. Trust me, he needs to get out now!" her voice rose with frustration. Dr. Crosby raised her hands.

"I understand Anna"

" No you don't. You haven't seen him in there, you haven't seen the condition that he's in or heard him cry for his mother. He's on the verge of adulthood and he's crying for his mother! What does that tell you?" she clenched her fists.

"It's telling me that you're way too involved in this Anna and I think it would be a good idea to take you off this case" Briefly Anna closed her eyes as frustration turned to anger.

"And what will that accomplish? It won't get him out any faster and there is no guarantee that you'll get a replacement in there in time" she retaliated.

The following day...

She knew that she was the object of curiosity as she walked along the corridor. She had the beginnings of a black eye and the cut above her eye stung. She'd had a pounding headache for most of the night and as a result she wasn't a hundred per cent at her best but she couldn't leave Clark alone. She felt as though he needed her, relied on her.

"I didn't expect to see you this morning" Anna paused when she heard Dr. Graham's voice. She slowly turned to look at him.

"And why shouldn't I be here today?" she enquired coolly.

"Have you looked in the mirror?" his voice had an almost scandalised tone to it and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes.

"I have. It's not a problem." She assured him. The doctor gave her a clipboard and she looked down at it.

"You need to check on the subject before we look at him again" he told her. She looked at him.

"What happened to the usual person?"

"Called in sick. He's all yours" Anna looked down at the notes made from previous sessions. The statistics weren't looking good.

"What's the matter Miss Vale, you're not scared of him, are you?" Anna looked up at him.

"No…I'm not, which makes me wonder…are you?" she responded. Dr. Graham straightened and his eyes narrowed. Mentally Anna cursed herself. She drew the clipboard closer to her chest.

"I'll get onto it immediately."

To her surprise, he wasn't manacled. He lay on the thin filthy mattress that they'd provided for him, his back to her. As habit dictated, she looked up to the security fixture, now seeing the beady little red light that told her that she was being observed. She placed her clipboard on the floor and knelt down beside Clark. She placed her hand on his shoulder, this time the muscle didn't tense, didn't react. When she pulled him so that he would roll over, he did so immediately. His eyes were closed. She did a quick visual check, tried to ignore the bruising, the slow to heal wounds. She placed a finger against the pulse in his throat, noting the sluggish throb. There was a bruise at his temple, the blood she'd discovered there was dried and matted in. He'd lost weight, the skin pulled taut over high cheekbones, his lips pale and bloodless, were beginning to flake and peel.

Slipping away. He could feel it happen. Poisoned, sick, dying. Then she was there, Anna. Too late he wanted to tell her, you're too late. Can't take anymore. She was whispering his name, touched his neck. One last slice of emotion, different from the agony… he thought of his mom and his dad, he thought of his friends and a single tear slipped down one cheek. Time to go….