- - - - -

Chloe shoved some papers across the desk, sighing. She'd been unable almost all morning to concentrate on her work. Dully, she spun around to her computer, and fired up the emailer. "Your Inbox has 0 unread messages". She flipped her phone open for the fifth time. No messages.

"Chloe?" She looked up, and the worry fell away suddenly.

"Clark!" Chloe jumped out of her chair, coming across the room to him. "Clark, I've been so worried about you." He held up his hands and stepped back suddenly causing her to stop. "Clark, what's wrong?"

"Umn…can we talk?"

Confused, Chloe led him down to the boiler room. "The only thing lower than the basement," she teased, but he didn't smile. Unable to hold back her curiosity, she started speaking the moment the door was shut behind them. "Clark, what happened to you? How'd you end up in the middle of the road with Kryptonite? Who did it?"

"Chloe, this is going to be really bizarre, but stick with me."

She shook her head. "I'm the queen of bizarre."

And so he related the story- the whole story this time. Curtis had told him he could tell anyone besides his parents about the experiment. He clearly didn't know that Chloe knew about his secret as well. It felt good to relate the entire escapade to someone. Chloe was a great listener, and nodded, saying nothing until he was finished.

"And it- really did hurt when you touched your parents?" He nodded seriously. "Are you sure it wasn't just your imagination?"

"No. No, when my dad touched me it felt like someone punched me in the stomach. And I barely touched Mom, but I might as well have dipped my hand in that Kryptonite Gatorade those cheerleaders spiked, remember that?"

"As much as I'd like to relive my cheerleading days, Clark, there's a really simple way to test this theory." She shrugged, feeling a little uncomfortable, but powering on anyway. "It's supposed to be people you care about, right? The ones that hurt you." He nodded. "Well…you could touch me." She hated putting it that way, it seemed so presumptuous, but Clark accepted immediately.

"Yeah, that's a good idea." He approached her hesitantly. Chloe felt suddenly scared, hoping that this theory was wrong. That she wasn't about to hurt her best friend.

"Ready?" She held her hands up in the air.

"Yeah." Clark took a final step towards her, and she planted both hands on his forearms. The result was instantaneous. He collapsed suddenly, wincing in pain, wrenching his arms out of her grip. Chloe let go as quickly as she could, kneeling beside him. It only took moments for Clark to recover, and he sat up, panting, looking around as though disoriented.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" Chloe soothed, wanting to squeeze his shoulder or pat his knee, but keeping her distance instead.

"It's okay, I'm okay," Clark promised, pushing himself carefully to his feet, and running his hands over his face and through his hair. "He wasn't lying," he said despondently. "What do I do?"

"I'm sure there's a way to reverse it, we just-"

"We just need to find him." Clark suddenly looked darkly determined.

"Clark, he has Kryptonite."

"What else am I supposed to do?" He kicked a stack of pipes angrily and they bent double at the impact. Chloe flinched at the loud noise.

"Tell you what…let's look into Curtis, see what he's been doing since graduation."

"Chloe-"

"Hey." She smiled at him. "Let's just begin at square one and work our way up. We'll figure this out, Clark."

As they left the boiler room, Chloe couldn't help wondering why this was angering him so much. Obviously, it was worth getting upset over, but Clark was never the type to fly off the handle at the first rock in the road. Something else was getting to him. She sighed, sitting down at her computer, Clark hovering over her shoulder. Her concern-for-Clark-o-meter just went up another three notches.

- - - - -

"No, that's okay, Mrs. Kent. I'll give his cell a call. Yeah…mhm…thanks. You too. Bye." Lana hit the end call button on her phone and went for speed dial. She paused. She wasn't sure she wanted to call Clark, really. Things between them had gotten so weird recently, and she wasn't even sure why.

Lana flopped onto her bed, sending her astronomy homework flying. Okay, so she had an idea why. It could have something to do with her getting turned into a vampire and nearly killing him and then him getting bit by silver meteor rock and going insane. She rolled her eyes at the ceiling. What a month.

But the real turning point, and the most draining and incredible experience she'd had all that year, was the day Smallville was threatened with a nuclear missile attack. The day that Clark was shot and died. And then, bewildered and terrified with grief, she walked into his parents' kitchen to find him standing there. Just- standing there. Alive.

To this day, Lana had never asked the Kents how Clark could possibly have gotten from the sheet-covered gurney at Smallville Medical to his own kitchen in just twenty minutes, brought back to life somewhere in between. She always assumed that he'd awoken from his coma, and of course, the first place he went was home. She was comfortable with assuming that it'd been a miracle. Smallville had almost as many of those as they did catastrophes.

However, despite the fact that that was probably the most beautiful and memorable moment of her life, running to Clark, holding him close again, knowing that she wasn't going to lose him after all…ever since that day, he'd been different. Distant, even. As his officially declared girlfriend, she felt like she should be supportive and useful, if she could. Unfortunately, Clark didn't talk about his feelings. Like- ever. Again, Lana rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Fort Knox.

Still, he'd just been the victim of another unexplainable disaster, and her concern (if not curiosity) far outweighed her suspicions or frustrations. Sighing, she flipped her phone open again, and dialed Clark's number from memory before remembering to just use her speed dial. It rang.

"Hey, Lana." He sounded a little tired, but genuinely happy to hear her ring-tone.

"Clark, your mom told me about what happened. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Who was it? I mean, did you see him?"

"Chloe and I are following some leads right now. I'll fill you in later." Lana almost said 'no you won't', but chose not to. Still, she was right. Clark didn't like getting her involved in his problems. It was both sweet and frustrating.

"Yeah, okay," was all she said. "So, your mom sounds like she's doing better."

"She's really strong, she's going to be fine."

"That's good." Lana hated all this small-talk. She was bursting to ask a million things. Why would someone kidnap Clark? Why did they just let him go like that? If he wasn't hurt, why did his parents have to drive out at two o'clock in the morning to pick him up and then keep him home from school the next day?

Maybe Clark knew what was on her mind, maybe he was just a good guesser. Either way, she heard him smile on the other end. "I'm okay, Lana, don't worry. And I will tell you what Chloe and I are looking into, when I see you. Can we meet somewhere?"

Lana's heart pounded excitedly, and she realized just how badly she'd like to see him. "Yeah, uh…well, I guess if you're with Chloe, you're here in Metropolis?"

"Yeah, we're at The Planet right now."

"Well how about that coffee shop just down the road from there? The Mocha-"

"The Cocoa Mocha?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, meet you there in an hour."

She glanced down at her watch. "All right. See you then."

"Bye, Lana."

"Bye." Lana sat in silence for a long time before she got off the bed. Something in the back of her mind was bugging her, and she couldn't quite figure out what. Then last night's conversation with Chloe came back to her.

"You're not selfish, Lana." … "Yeah, I am."

She went to gather her schoolwork up off the floor, and set it neatly on her desk. One hour to finish that essay. She better get started.

- - - - -

"N-no…can't do it. I can't…he's not. He's not…he's not-"

"Clark…Clark!" Clark sat up suddenly, hands flying out defensively in front of him. "Woah, easy easy!" Chloe stepped back suddenly, also defensive, as though he were wielding a weapon.

"Chloe." He looked around, blinking hard. He was lying on the unbelievably ugly brown couch that sat at the back wall of the refreshments room in The Daily Planet. Scattered all around him were computer printouts and newspaper clippings. He suddenly remembered his and Chloe's research. "Why'd you let me doze off?"

Chloe shook her head. "Sorry, I just thought you could use the rest. You were up till three in the morning getting abducted and dumped back on the highway." He sighed, rubbing his face halfheartedly. Clark was never this tired. She pushed her worries away for the time being. "Hey, okay. Let's not talk about it. Look, I found the article I did on Curtis for The Torch."

Clark sat up, suddenly alert, and took the piece of paper from her, reading aloud: "Smallville Student Makes Breakthrough At Science Fair?"

"I knew I'd written something juicy on him. He wasn't Wall of Weird, but he did mix a chemical that causes happiness on demand." Clark raised his eyebrows, instantly skeptical. Chloe went on, "Well, he basically created a reaction that made emotions heighten. So if a person were to do something that made them feel good, like- eating chocolate, hugging someone, it would cause them sudden elation. It's like the ultimate high, right? To be able to have those emotions just come to you?"

"So- why isn't he a billionaire now?"

"Well, this Daddy Warbucks never received his gold. Some scientists from Metropolis took a look and said it was too unstable to use in any official capacity. They even told him to discontinue experiments with it, saying it could become a biohazard." She slapped the newspaper onto the table. "And that's sort of where his trail ends. I mean, he didn't even graduate, technically."

"Technically?"

"Well, he should have finished his Senior Year, but he dropped out just before graduation. See, I got a copy of the line-up."

Clark took the paper, and read: "Hannah Jacobs, Michelle Jewel, Clark Kent…no Curtis Jaye."

"Now, why would someone quit just short of getting their diploma?"

"I don't know, but look at this." He leaned forward with the line-up sheet so Chloe could see. "At the bottom is a log of the edits which were made. One was made the day before graduation."

"So someone edited this list right before?"

"Yeah…can you look this stuff up on the computer?"

"No, but it gives me an idea of what day to look for. Let's see where Curtis was the day before graduation. Hey, shouldn't you be going to meet Lana?"

"Oh man!" Clark jumped off the couch, snatched his coat from the table, and then asked what time it was.

"It's okay, Clark, you still have a few minutes. Besides, I'm pretty sure you can make it in whatever time you want." She smiled, but it quickly faded. "Just…try and be careful, okay?"

"Chloe, it's just Lana."

"I know, Clark, but what are you going to say when your girlfriend tries to hug you and…"

"I start moaning on the floor?" Chloe shrugged apologetically. "Listen, I'll just keep it brief. There's no reason Lana has to know about any of this."

"She doesn't like being in the dark, Clark."

"And I don't like putting her there, but sometimes that's the way it has to be. Call me if you find anything?"

"Sure."

- - - - -

"Jonathan, where's the picture of us with Clark at his fifth birthday?"

Jonathan looked up as Martha came into the barn, looking flustered. "I don't know, isn't it on the bedside table?"

"No, and I can't find it anywhere."

"Don't worry, I'm sure it'll turn up."

"I love that picture," Martha said quietly, sitting down on the steps. "I've looked all over the place…I even checked the bookshelves three times. It's just disappeared, how does that happen?"

Jonathan watched her a moment, then pulled his work gloves off, and offered his hand to her. She looked up, confused. "C'mon, I'll help you find it."

She sighed, taking his hand and he helped her up. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to cut into your work time, I just…Clark's just-"

"He's going to be okay. This Curtis boy is never getting near our son again, Martha, I promise you that."

"I like looking at that picture when I'm worried about Clark," she admitted, blushing. "I guess because all three of us look so…content." She sighed. "Things were a lot safer when he was little, weren't they."

"What were we going to do? Lock him in the basement? We could never deprive this world of a person as amazing as Clark." Martha just nodded. "But yes. I guess they were safer."

They rechecked all the places Martha had all ready looked, being as thorough as they could. Finally, Martha split off to check their bedroom a second time. "I'll look in Clark's room real quick," Jonathan called after her, and went down the hall.

He checked the dresser, the bedside table, the shelves, briefly looked in the closet…nothing. On a whim, he opened the top drawer of the dresser. He pulled back the socks and stared.

"Martha?" She looked up and saw Jonathan standing in the doorway of their room. He held up the empty cherry wood frame. She rushed over to him.

"Where'd you find that?"

"Clark's dresser."

"Well…where's the photo?" Jonathan reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a brightly colored shot of him and Martha standing over a five-year-old Clark's shoulder as he made a birthday wish on red and blue candles. Martha took it gently from him. "Where was it?"

Jonathan's thoughts were elsewhere as he responded. "I found it under Clark's pillow."

- - - - -