- - - - -

Clark only made it as far as Cleft Field, out in front of the KROW FM Radio Station. He stood, staring across dead corn stalks and spiky, leafless trees, all the way to the red pinprick in the distance he knew was his barn. A cold feeling that had nothing to do with the weather came over him. He was afraid to go home. That had never happened before.

He crossed his arms, watched his breath come out in a mist ahead of him. He realized he wasn't actually afraid of going home, per-se. He really wanted to apologize to his parents, since they deserved at least that much. Unfortunately, with the apology inevitably would come the need for an explanation, and…well, there was no way he was going to explain what was really bothering him.

He bit his lower lip, scuffing his shoes in the dry dirt. He couldn't stay out here forever. Maybe he could go to his loft and wait till his parents were sleeping, sneak inside and spend the night on the couch. He could go to Metropolis the next morning, leave a note- what was he thinking?

Clark started walking across the field. How could he even consider taking off on his parents with nothing but a note to explain himself? He would apologize, say he'd just been upset, worried about his mom, about Jor-El…which wouldn't technically be a lie, since he was always worried about those things.

Clark was halfway through the dead forest between Cleft Field and the Kent farm when he heard it. A soft, whimpering was coming from his left. At first it sounded like an animal scratching around in the dirt, but Clark inclined his head towards the sound and his sensitive ears picked up the voice of young boy. "Help me, please…h-help…"

Clark tore through the trees, slowing down several feet from the sound so he could approach normally. "Hello?" The trees opened up into a clearing, and he stood in the center, looking in every direction, straining for the sound again. Then he heard a heartbeat- to the left? No, behind him- no, to his right…it kept moving, running around the clearing on quiet feet. "Hello? Anyone there?"

"Who's there?" Clark spun around to face the sound, but saw only dark shadows behind him.

"I'm Clark," he told the voice, which sounded like the little boy he was looking for. "Are you okay?"

"Clark?" The boy's voice, he realized, was unusually high. Doubt entered at the back of his mind, but he kept talking, walking slowly forward.

"Are you lost?" Squinting into the dark patch of forest, everything turned blue and black before his eyes. The skeleton of the boy huddled just within the tree-line, hands behind his back.

"No, I'm not lost."

"Then what's wrong?" Clark focused on seeing through the boy's body, but by the time he saw the green glow, it was too late.

The boy leaped out of the shadows, and Clark realized he wasn't a boy at all, but a young man about Clark's own age. In his hand, he clutched a chunk of Kryptonite about the size of a softball, and he used it to smack Clark hard on the chest, knocking him to the ground. "Got a present for you, Kent."

Clark tried to crawl away before the Kryptonite had a chance to get to him, but all ready his body was convulsing painfully, and he rolled weakly onto his side as the stranger stood over him. "What do you want." He gritted out through clenched teeth.

The young man crouched down beside him, stuffing the glowing rock into Clark's jacket pocket. He smiled nastily as Clark let out a groan of pain. "Want to see something cool, Clark?" the stranger asked, flipping Clark onto his back and hauling him a few inches off the ground by his shirtfront. And before Clark could register that the stranger's face was familiar, a fist flew at him. First he saw white light, then darkness…then nothing at all.

- - - - -

"Uh-huh…the high school? Really?…Yeah. Sure, yeah…On his way. You sure?…I see." Jonathan paced the kitchen in as wide an arc as the phone cord would allow. Martha was at the table with a book, but she'd shut it a half hour ago. Jonathan finally came to stand by the refrigerator, absently twirling the phone cord around his finger. "Yeah, okay. No, no Chloe I don't want you to do that. I'm sure Clark's just…uh-huh…yeah, I'm sure he's just fine." He laughed unconvincingly into the receiver. "You're probably right. Yep…thanks, Chloe, drive safe. Yeah, bye." He hung up and strode to the table, sitting slowly into a chair, never really taking his mind off the phone.

"Chloe says she found him at the high school almost two hours ago. She said he seemed upset about something, but didn't want to talk about it. They chatted a little, then he said he should get home so we wouldn't worry." He shook his head, looking discouraged. "Two hours…"

Martha leaned across the table and squeezed his hand. "Sweatheart, I'm sure he's fine. I mean…he's Clark."

Jonathan massaged his face with his palms and nodded. "That's what Chloe said, but I'm not worried about Clark's safety, Martha."

"What are you worried about?" He stood up out of his chair and paced to the kitchen window, shoulders tense. Martha watched him quietly, her question all ready answered. "Oh Jonathan…"

"That look on his face, Martha…Those things he said-"

"He was angry."

"He was right."

She went to stand next to him, grabbing his shoulder. "No, he wasn't." He looked away. "You understand him better than anyone, Jonathan…Clark wouldn't run away. You know that."

"Do I? Martha, the last time we had a fight like this he stole Red Kryptonite and disappeared to Metropolis, and I…I don't know." He stared out the window for a moment, then ran his hand over the huge dent Clark and his temper had left in the counter. "There are certain things…I hate the feeling that there are some things I can't protect him from. Things that I'm not equipped to do for him, and I think what's bothering Clark is that he's realized that. He knows that when it comes to the really difficult things in his life, he's on his own." His voice cracked a little as he spoke next, and Martha's heart skipped a beat. "He's scared, Martha."

"Oh honey-" she went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, hugging him gently. "Clark loves you. He looks up to you more than anyone. And yes, he knows you have limits, but has limits too. There are so many things that he still needs you to show him, Jonathan."

Jonathan closed his eyes, and pressed his cheek to the top of Martha's head, sighing into her hair. "Well…we should wait up for him for at least another hour."

Martha squeezed him tightly. "Okay."

- - - - -

"C'mon, sleepyhead, up and at 'um!"

Clark felt someone slapping his cheek lightly and jerked his head to the side, eyes opening and shutting rapidly. A bright light was gushing down on him and it hurt his head to look at it. Squinting hard, he tried to lift his head, completely disoriented. "Dad?"

"Sorry to disappoint, Kent." Curtis' face came into focus, and Clark let out a quiet groan. "Daddy's not here right now." A million questions filled his head, but only one made to his mouth.

"What time is it?" Curtis tilted his watch towards Clark's face. 1:07 am. His parents were going to be worried sick.

"I hate it how mama's boy you are, Kent," Curtis scoffed, walking outside of Clark's line of vision. "It's just sickening sometimes."

Clark tried a second time to raise his head, and realized he couldn't. In fact, he wasn't moving at all. Still squinting into the blue-white light over his head, he tried to figure out where he was. It appeared he was in someone's basement, lying on a large slab of plywood that had been set over a table. His immobility was explained when he realized he was anchored to the tabletop with twist ties strung through holes poked on either side of his wrists and ankles. Confused, he tried to yank himself free, but the wires held. The table made a funny rattling noise under him. He tried to reach the knots under the board, but his fingers brushed a cold, metal bar that blocked his attempts. Frustrated, he tried to look around again.

"Wondering how it is that Super Kent can't snap a twist tie?" Curtis reappeared wearing a black denim jacket and a look of feigned concern. "Things are about to get kind of rough for you, Clark. I know about the meteor rock and how it effects you. Did you really think everyone would be stupid enough to miss the clues? The way you get all queasy whenever you're around the stuff? It's so pathetically obvious." He patted Clark's hand and he clenched it into a fist, trying to pull away. "If you crunch meteor rock into powder and dissolve it salt water…well, you dip something in that, and I could restrain you with a piece of dental floss."

"What do you want, Curtis."

"Oh, so you do remember me!" He stood up, looking pleased. "Good, this will make it very straight-forward. People hate me, Clark. I don't have any friends, never have."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Clark muttered, still silently fighting his bonds.

"Yeah, not as sorry as you'll be when you find out how I've taken all that pent up anger and frustration on you." Curtis laughed, pulling a chair up next to the table, and sitting down, mouth just inches from Clark's ear. "Did I ever tell you I took advanced chem? Nah, of course not, why would you have noticed what I was doing for school?" He sighed almost cheerfully. "Yeah, umn, no one knew, actually, because no one cared. But it turns out I'm great at chemistry. I…invented some things, even." He scooted his chair a little closer. "You and I are like twins, Clark, you're just better at hiding your real feelings. That's the only reason she likes you, you know."

"Who?" Clark demanded quietly, but Curtis just sat back and laughed again.

"Let's save the chit-chat for later. I'm going to let you go in a minute here, and if you want some answers, you can always come back. First, do you know what Phenethylamine is? No? How about Catecholamine?" He chuckled. "And here I thought you were straight-A."

"Curtis, listen to me-"

"Let's put it in layman's terms for you," he interrupted loudly. "There are chemicals in your brain that illicit certain reactions in your body. They control your emotions, your reflexes, your sensations- with me, Kent? So I made a special little elixir compiled of these chemicals." He held up a vial of almost clear, greenish liquid. "Now for an ordinary person, this stuff would probably send them into paranoia, furry, depression, and eventually plant them in Bell Reeve. But we know you're not ordinary, and neither is the meteor rock I added." He dangled the vial by Clark's face, smiling when Clark leaned away. "The meteor rock bonds with the chemicals in your brain, causing your senses and emotions to get conflicting signals. Instead of the proper reaction you're meant to have to a corresponding emotion, you will get the same feelings you have around meteor rock when those emotions occur."

Clark had finally given up on the twist ties, and his heart pounded hard in his ears. He wasn't sure what Curtis was getting at, but he'd clearly gone off the deep end since graduation. "Curtis, I can see you're angry-"

"When you touch people, Clark? People you love?" He licked his lips maliciously, looking crazed in the dim shadows. "It's going to hurt. It's going to hurt like someone put a meteor rock down your throat. Cause see, when you're brain tries to convey relief, happiness, comfort…love." (he spat this last word) "It's going to connect with the chemicals that make up a meteor rock instead." He stood up, shoving the chair away. "Basically? You'll never be able to touch your friends or parents again."

Clark swallowed all the panic that had risen to the surface as Curtis spoke, and valiantly calmed his voice down. "Listen, Curtis…listen to me. You don't get it. That meteor rock? It doesn't just make me feel sick, it can…it can kill me." Perhaps he shouldn't have told him that, but Curtis had been a classmate. Maybe he was angry, but there was no way his plans had included murder.

Curtis shrugged, and Clark's heart began to pound harder. "Clark, one little dose is not going to kill you. It will hopefully enlighten you, though, give you an idea of what it's like."

"What what's like?"

"What I'M like, Kent," Curtis snapped impatiently, snatching up the vial and walking out of Clark's eyeshot. "The only reason she likes you is because she thinks you're something you're not. She thinks you're some pillar of positive attributes all rolled into one, humble farm boy. She just hasn't seen you under stress, that's all. Wait till she sees you now."

Clark was only half listening and didn't bother trying to figure out who he was talking about. "Curtis, listen to me. You do this, you shoot that stuff into my system, and it will overload. I'll die, I promise you. You don't want to kill anybody."

"You're right I don't." He came like a bad dream out of the shadows, leaning down till he was just inches from Clark's face. "But you're not going to die. Cause it's all ready in your system."

- - - - -