As they enter the small room, Clark's large boots squeak across the shiny linoleum floor causing his cheeks to blush as every eye moves to him. Lana can't bring her eyes up from the ground, hoping by some miracle it might open up and swallow her whole.

Moving towards the corner of the room, Lana lets her frame slide into a chair, slumping her torso down to rest against her legs, turning her head away from all the other women in the room.

Clark walks up to the little frosted window and signs Lana's name on the clipboard as his hands shake uncontrollably.

Chilvalrically holding onto her purse, Clark returns to Lana's side, allowing a chair to remain empty between them to respect her earlier reaction to his touch.

Clutching his hands together, Clark slumps over, his large frame engulfing the small chair. Aware how out of place he appears, he keeps his eyes on his feet, concentrating on the knots in his laces.

Every moment that ticks by makes Clark doubt their decision to come here. All around him he can feel sadness, the sorrows of everyone weighing heavy on his heart. Yet, as he looks at Lana, already punishing herself for this choice, he knows the damage has already been done.

He wants to ask if she's sure, feeling himself he could continue this battle in his mind for the rest of his life, but instantly he realizes that's the sad reality of going down this path. The rest of their lives will always be filled with regret, and the time to have changed that fact passed way before now.

They had come to this decision, each for different reasons, and even if he changed his mind now, the final say was hers alone. Despite the fact that she is obviously battling with her choice, Clark knows she would never let anything other than her own mind decide her destiny. If she's sitting there it's because it's her choice, one she will pay the consequences for.

He can only pray she will not also have to pay for his choice.

"Lana Lang," a voice calls out from the opening door.

As though in a trance, Lana moves towards the sound of her name, hoping just going through the motions will enable her to get through the day.

Clark watches her slowly walk away from him, his heart breaking as he fears she will not return the same girl he fell in love with.

Just before disappearing through the doorway, she turns back to lock eyes with him. Without speaking she says so much, communicating with him in a way only she can.

He hadn't noticed until just this instant that she is wearing one of his shirts, perhaps an unconscious gesture that although a piece of him is being taken from her, she would still have a piece of him with her in her darkest hour.

For what seems like forever Clark can only hear his own breaths, feeling suddenly like a man who has failed in every possible way. Letting his head fall into his hands, he prays, not sure God will listen to the prayers of one who has done what he has.

"Forgive me," he whispers, repenting for the choice they made, the one that feels so wrong. "She's my life. My love. Please keep her safe," he says with baited breath, knowing he is truly powerless in protecting her now.

x X x X x

Alone in the quiet room, Lana slowly slides off her clothes, cradling the warn flannel in her hands, breathing in the smell of her beloved. "I'm sorry," she says to herself, hoping somehow God and Clark will both hear the plea from her heart.

Putting on the rough paper gown, her body feels foreign to her, seeming to not want to do as she asks. Trying to ignore the battle in her mind, she lays upon the table, closing out the sterility of the room and all the things about it that will soon change her life.

The doctor enters the room offering her his most sympathetic expression as he asks her a list of questions she shakes and nods the answers to. Coldly she's asked to place her feet in the stirrups, her tiny toes sweetly painted with blush colored polish curl up against the chill, her knees locking together with fear.

"I need you to scoot down further," the man says, his lips now hidden behind a paper mask. Waiting for her to oblige, he reaches up switching on a bright light above her before stretching a pair of sterile gloves over his large skilled hands.

Lana slides down a few inches, feeling more exposed and vulnerable than she ever has before.

"You need to relax, Miss Lang," the man says softly, trying to gently guide her legs apart with his latex covered fingers.

Lana tries to do as she's told, but her emotions begin to take hold of her, making it difficult for her to breathe.

A hand softly takes hers, allowing her something to cling to. "It will all be over soon," the woman says, soothing her as a needle punctures her skin. Startled and scared, Lana winces from the sting as the general anesthesia slowly begins to flow into her vein, making the inevitable all the more imminent.

x X x X x

Clark sits slumped in the chair, feeling defeated as he waits, unsure just what to do next. Without being able to protect Lana from all pain and sadness he feels without purpose, seeming lost in the world that goes on without them. Desperately wanting to be a comfort to the one that will forever hold his heart, he fights against the urge to peer through the wall, knowing it's probably best he can't see what's happening.

Concentrating on the silence, needing to know she's all right, he listens hard, able to hear a muffled cry he knows to be Lana's.

Jumping up, unable to sit and do nothing, he begins pacing around the floor, having to use all the power left in him to not rip open the door and carry her out of this place.

Reaching the farthest end of the office, he brings his fists to the wall restraining his desire to punch a hole through it. Finally losing the ability to contain his emotion, he buries his face in his hands, drowning his hands in tears, truly understanding the meaning of loss, feeling he too, has lost a part of himself.

x X x X x

All around her things start to become fuzzy, the bright light shining overhead whiting out the figure neatly arranging instruments on the paper covered tray.

"Are we ready?" she hears a voice ask, unsure if she is the one expected to answer. Her body is too heavy to move, her tongue too weak to form words. She would never be ready, but even if she could find a way to speak the truth she knows now it's too late to say it.

The medicine flooding her body causes her muscles to relax, her once tightly shut legs falling open on the table.

Blinking against the light, the gentle hum of the machine at her feet slowly drowns out, her body tingling with the sensation of falling.

"Lana, I need you to count for me," the voice says, sounding as though it's coming from the end of a long dark tunnel.

Lana slowly lets her tongue moisten her lips, exhaling her labored breaths, trying to find the will to say 'one'.

"Lana, count to ten, please," the voice requests, the louder, firmer tone slightly waking her.

"Wwww...," Lana trails off, giving way to the sedatives as her head falls to the side.

The man, seeing she is quickly becoming delirious, begins what to him has sadly become routine. Carefully he slides in the speculum, stretching her body, making her flesh burn as it tears her.

As the cold instrument opens up within her, she can only think to herself "this is real", before closing her eyes, surrendering to the fight.

The medicine thankfully takes no time to completely lighten her mind and heavy her lids, mercifully causing her to drift to a place where she can no longer feel the pain of her choice, at least until it's over.

x X x X x

Not having the luxury of a sedative, Clark is racked with guilt, thinking about his mother who would give anything to have what they cannot handle. Now in a room full of women who are burdened with life, he wonders if he will ever again be blessed with such a gift, fearing he may forever regret throwing away his chance to be a father.

x X x X x

Lana walks down the long hallway all alone, her soft gauze gown floating on air as her tiny feet try to carry her as fast as her heart longs to go. Seeming that the hallway stretches on forever she begins running, hoping to reach the end before it's too late.

"Clark!" she calls out, searching through the darkness for the one who can help her.

Her bare feet pound against the cold floor, failing to close the distance between herself and that place she feels she needs to be.

Frantic, she begins turning in circles, lost and alone and frightened to death.

"Clark!" she cries, sliding down the wall, fearful he will never be able to find her.

Then, out of the darkness he appears, standing before her, cradling a newborn infant in his arms.

Lana blinks in disbelief, feeling in her heart this is real.

Rising to her feet, and balancing on her toes she leans in to see the sweet face swaddled within the warm knitted blanket. Clark lowers his arms, presenting their newborn child to its mother, their wide eyes locking.

Softly Lana lets her fingers caress the jet black locks sweetly coiled on the baby's head.

"Ours?" she asks Clark, who only beams back at her, glowing with paternal pride.

"A boy or a girl?" she asks, a question she'll never know the answer to.

"Lana?" Clark says, rising from his seat at her bedside.

"A boy or a girl?" she asks again, speaking slowly, but needing to know more about her child.

"It's all over now," the nurse says, pulling the privacy curtain, assuring Clark with her eyes that she's okay.

With the beautiful image of her dream still burned in her mind, Lana brings her hands to her stomach, searching frantically as the truth slowly fills her waking mind.

x X x X x

Cradling her in his arms Clark fears he may not be strong enough to help Lana through this sorrow. Without hope, her crushed heart cries out, reducing this once strong girl to a broken child. Unable to catch her breath, she sobs uncontrollably, hoping somehow the pain in her heart will end, but fearing it never will.

Softly he smoothes her hair with his hand, his thick shirt soaked with her tears. Knowing they cannot go back to Smallville like this, he searches his mind for any words that might bring her solace, but knowing no such thing exists.

"I want to die," Lana says, the words pouring out from the darkest part of her soul. "Please Clark, tell me I didn't do this," she cries, knotting up his shirt in her small fists, her water filled eyes pleading with him.

Feeling as though he's holding a stranger, Clark doesn't recognize Lana, he doesn't recognize himself. Although locked in an embrace, at this moment he realizes how alone they truly are. He cannot ease her sorrow, nor lessen her regret, neither can she mend his broken heart. Destroying that which they created together likewise destroyed themselves, tearing away all hope, and love and life from within them leaving nothing but sorrow to dwell within two empty hearts.