What happened last time:

"What are you doing to me?"

"Once I'm done experiementing on you, I will expose it for you."

"We are ready to begin, Mr. Luthor."

"I want him to be awake...for everything."

Chapter 2

Clark was pushed through endless hallways till he entered into a room with stark white walls and harsh, bright lighting. He could sense that something bad was coming and pleaded with the nearest doctor to stop the tests.

"Please. You can't do this. Lex is lying to you. He's gone crazy, thinks I'm some sort of alien."

The doctor ignored his pleas for help and placed a mask over his mouth and nose. Clark felt cold instruments being pressed to his chest and a heavy mass of wires hooking him up to what must be several machines. A hand grabbed his right arm and he felt the sting of a needle being inserted into the crook of his arm. He caught a glimpse of a vial filled with a red liquid and knew without a doubt that it was his blood. He felt another jab higher up on his arm and his muscles instantly relaxed.

A doctor appeared in front of Clark and he shone a bright light into his eyes, making them burn and tear. "We are ready to begin," he said.

"Then, let's get started." Lex's voice sounded from somewhere behind Clark's head. "We don't want our guest of honor getting bored."

---

Jonathon and Martha awoke to a bright sun shinning through their bedroom window.

"What time is it?" Jonathon pushed himself upright and glanced at the clock. "I've got morning chores to do. I can't believe I've slept so late." He got out of bed and made his way to the closet. Martha watched her husband walk across the room and collapse on the floor.

"Jonathon! What happened! Are you alright?" she said, helping him to sit up.

"I'm fine, Martha," he said. Noting his wife's pale skin and glazed eyes, he added, "Do you feel okay?"

"Now that you mention it, I do feel a little strange."

"What did you eat last night? We must have had something that's making us sick. That must be why neither of us got up earlier."

"Well, after dinner, all I had was the pie from the bakery. You had some too didn't you?" Suddenly a speculative look crossed her face. "Jonathon, you don't think that--"

"We've been drugged? I don't know." He suddenly realized that the house was unusually quiet. "Where's Clark?" Clark had gone to bed long before him and Martha; he should be up by now. Unless he was sick, too. But this is Clark we're talking about, he thought, he doesn't get sick. Jonathon pushed himself up off the floor and made his way to his son's room.

The door was slightly open, something that Clark wouldn't normally do. "Clark? Are you in there, son?" He pushed the door to the room open and stared blankly at the empty bed with its covers left in disarray.

"Is he in there? Jonathon?" The look on her husband's face told her the answer that he did not voice. "We have to call the police," she said, her voice rising in panic. "He could be anywhere. Do you think he--"

"No. Clark wouldn't have left like that. Someone has him. Call the sheriff. Something's wrong, Martha. We've got to find him."

---

Cold, gloved fingers pressed against Clark's forehead then moved to the back of his neck. What exactly was Lex going to do to him? The mask that had been placed on his face earlier was removed, his mouth was forced open, and something hard was forced into it, preventing him from speaking.

As the mask was replaced, Lex came into view, his face full of a wickedness that Clark had never seen before. "Remember when I was in Belle Reeve, Clark? And you knew my father was going to have my brain fried but didn't do anything to save me? Well now you're going to know what it feels like to have all your friends abandon you."

Clark struggled to break free from his binds, knowing that what was coming next could not be good. Lex moved out of his sight and spoke to someone unseen. "Start the testing now."

Almost immediately, intense pain shot through Clark. His body convulsed violently, his eyes rolled into his head, and he broke into an ice cold sweat. It felt like a thousand white-hot knives were piercing his skin; every inch of him ached.

Then, as soon as it had begun, it was over. Clark's eyes were forced open, the bright light that had been shone in them earlier adding to the pain he already suffered. He felt cold metal against his chest and the grip of two fingers against his wrist.

"Pulse rate is extremely high. Breathing shallow. I want a crash cart standing by."

The edges of Clark's vision began to fade into darkness and he knew that he would not be conscious much longer. The first round was bad enough. If Lex made him go through it again, there was little chance he would make it.

"Do it again." Lex's voice sounded unemotional and detached.

"But Mr. Luthor, his body is already under too much stress. If we put him through another round, we could lose him."

"Do as I say!" Lex roared. "I am the one in charge here! If you want to question my authority, then you can find yourself another job."

"Yes Mr. Luthor." The threat had apparently put the wayward doctor back in his place. "We are ready to proceed with the next round."

"That's much better, doctor. Now, I want to increase the voltage on this run."

A feeling of dread overcame Clark. But before he could do more than acknowledge it, the pain that had shot through his body only minutes ago was back, this time much more intense. Every one of his limbs felt as if they would snap in two, his breaths came in short bursts, and his heart felt as if it would pound out of his chest. Clark felt the last of his energy draining. Before the gloom swallowed him up, he heard the desperate words of the doctor, "We're losing him! Get me the crash cart now! Now!"

---

"All of Smallville P.D. is keeping an eye out for your son, Mr. Kent," said Sheriff Adams. "My men and I have already been through your house once, but if there is anything that you find, please give me a call." She gave each of the Kent's a somber stare and handed Jonathon a piece of paper.

"Thank you Sheriff." As the officer got into her car, Jonathon and Martha went back into the house. "There has to be something that we're missing," Jonathon said desperation evident in his voice.

"Maybe if we look through his room again, we'll find something." Martha couldn't bear to see her husband looking so hopeless. They wandered down the hallway toward Clark's room, Martha running into her husband's back as he stopped abruptly before even reaching the threshold.

"Jonathon?" she asked worriedly. "What is it?"

He didn't answer his wife's question but reached out to the top of a waist-high bookshelf placed against the wall where they were standing. He picked something up off the shelf and examined it, then held up the object so she could see what he'd found. Pinched between his index finger and thumb was a piece of torn paper. Martha took it from him and inspected it herself. There was no writing on it but the initials L.L. were printed in the corner. She looked up at her husband questioningly.

"L.L.," he said blankly. "Lionel Luthor. We should have known that he was behind this." He walked around Martha and into the kitchen, grabbing the phone. "Sweetheart, I need you to call Sheriff Adams. I'm going to go pay a visit to Mr. Luthor. I' want our son back." And with that, he stormed out of the house, leaving Martha alone with her worries.

So? Suspenseful enough for you? Thanks for my five reviews! Keep 'em coming:)