- - - - -

Clark could barely see straight, he was running so fast. His mind whirled, asking for questions, looking for answers. He tried to remember everything about the night he was kidnapped, desperation driving certain details to sharp relief.

He'd definitely been in a basement; he could still remember the smell and the faded yellow fiberglass sticking out of the rafters. He thought of the plywood, the twist ties…the table, the light shining down on his face…wait. The table?

A distant piece of his memory came to him. Trying to break free of the twist ties and hearing the table rattle underneath him. And then there was the metal bar that blocked his attempts to untie himself. What sort of a table has metal bars protruding from it? Then the rest just sort of snapped together like final piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

He came to a sudden stop in the middle of Route 8, snatching up his cell phone, turning it on, ignoring the five voicemail messages, and dialing Chloe's phone. It rang several times, then- "Hello?"

"Chloe, it was a foosball table! I know where Curtis is-"

"What?"

He stopped, confused. "Lana?"

"Clark, did you get my messages?"

"Huh? No, I was- is Chloe there?"

"Clark-" she seemed panicked; a little exasperated. "Chloe and I decided to get lunch at The Talon. She went to the restroom, and she was gone for like a half hour, so I went in there to check on her. Her purse was sitting on the counter, but I can't find her anywhere! Clark I'm really scared, that was like- an hour ago. I've been trying to call you, I left like six voicemail messages, but-"

It all came flooding to him, his heart started pounding painfully in his chest. "Lana, I'm sorry. I'm going to go look for her. I think I have an idea of where she is."

To his surprise, she didn't demand where he was going. She just said, "Okay. Call me as soon as you know something, Clark." And hung up.

Clark stood, thinking. Then, taking a deep breath, he sped away, back towards Smallville. Curtis was in Whitney's rec-room basement.

- - - - -

When Clark reached the Fordman's, he got his first piece of good news; Mrs. Fordman was out for the afternoon. Quietly, he forced the door open and stepped inside. The house was unnervingly still. He stepped as carefully as he could across the velvety carpet, into the kitchen, and towards the basement door.

As he walked silently down the steps, he tried to think what his plan of action was. Curtis probably kept Kryptonite on his person, if he was smart. But if Clark could take him by surprise, he was pretty sure he could throw Curtis against a wall before he had a chance to spring something on him.

Oh the other hand, what if he was holding Chloe hostage? He hesitated then, and squinted across the dark basement, x-raying the dark walls. Way off, in the farthest corner of the room, he saw the skeleton of Curtis standing by a table, mixing chemicals. He focused on where Curtis's pockets should be, then on both of his hands. No Kryptonite.

Quietly, Clark started crossing the basement. Still no sign of Chloe. He'd have to jump Curtis first, then go after Chloe. He rounded the corner and, sure enough, Curtis was standing with his back to him, mixing something into a vial of bluish liquid.

Clark was about to put on his super speed, but Curtis suddenly spoke. "I wouldn't knock me out if I was you, Kent. Chloe's life sort of depends on time right now."

Clark's jaw tightened. "Where is she?"

Curtis turned around, smirking. "Now, Clark. Would I really tell you that?"

"If you don't, I'll have no reason not to throw you into your mad science lab." He nodded at the vials and test-tubes spread across the improved foosball table.

Curtis shrugged. "Okay. Have it your way." His instincts were good, but Clark's were better. Curtis cried out as Clark dashed across the room, appearing instantly beside him, and knocking the meteor rock Curtis had gone for out of his hand. It skidded across the floor, the slight glow fading instantly. He lifted Curtis off the floor a few feet by his shirt front, his voice dangerous.

"Where is Chloe."

"Good one, Clark. Just not good enough." Curtis reached into his pocket, and before Clark could look down to see what it was, he pulled out a squirt gun and fired it several times into Clark's chest. Clark dropped him, and stumbled back, smacking the wall. Advancing slowly on him, Curtis fired the gun over and over into Clark's chest, until his shirt was drenched. Clark slid to the floor, gasping. Curtis pocketed the squirt gun and shrugged.

"I call it the Super-Kent-Soaker," he grinned at his lame joke. "That meteor rock's just a real bummer for you, isn't it." As the Kryptonite water soaked into Clark's skin, his head swam and he could feel himself passing out. The last thing he heard before he blacked out was Curtis laughing. "Did you really think I'd hurt Chloe Sullivan?"

- - - - -

"Clark, c'mon. Clark? C'mon, c'mon, c'mon…" Clark jerked awake, wishing instantly that he was still unconscious. He blinked hard, wondering if he'd actually opened his eyes. It was so dark, he could see literally nothing.

The cold hand that had been tentatively slapping his cheek jerked away the moment he stirred. "Clark?"

He tried to sit up, but both his wrists and ankles were taped, and he couldn't seem to get his balance. "Chloe?"

"Clark!" Chloe's voice came, relieved, from his left. "Oh…Clark, are you okay?"

"Yeah," he lied, and managed to use the wall behind him to get into a sitting position. He groaned as he did so, giving away his real condition. "Well," he amended, "I've been better."

"What happened?"

"Curtis shot me," he replied ruefully, and then elaborated when Chloe gasped.

"Kryptonite water? Well, that's…really inconvenient."

Clark laughed dryly. "Yeah, tell me about it. Hey-" He inched a few feet in what he thought was her direction. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you at all?"

"No," she was quick to say. "I remember being in the restroom at The Talon, and someone came up behind me and hit me over the back of the head. I woke up here, and then- like a half hour ago," he saw her watch glow briefly ahead of him as she checked the time. "Yeah, more like twenty minutes ago, Curtis opened the door, threw you inside, and I've been trying to wake you up ever since."

"He hit you over the head?" Clark asked, bewildered. "It's just- he said that he'd never hurt you."

"What? When?"

"Right before I passed out, he said he'd never hurt Chloe Sullivan."

"Well tell that to my ankle. I think I must have smacked it somehow when he dragged me out of the window in the restroom."

Clark x-rayed through the darkness, and realized Chloe was a lot closer to him than he thought. He looked down at her ankle, checking all the major bones. He refocused, and everything went dark again. "It's not broken," he told her and heard her smile.

"Well, at least I've got my trusty superhero with me. Even if he did get hosed down with his one weakness. Are you sure you're feeling okay?"

Clark shrugged, then realized she couldn't see it. "I guess…my shirt's still damp, but I think the Kryptonite got pretty diluted."

"Good." There was a long moment of silence. "Clark…what are we going to do? We have to get a cure out of Curtis somehow."

Clark didn't respond. What could he say? He had no idea what to do, that was the truth. "Maybe…maybe there isn't a cure."

"No, you can't think that, Clark. There's always a way out of Kryptonite and its effects."

"Kryptonite mutates people permanently all the time-"

"But not you, Clark." She said sternly, and he was quiet for a long time. Then he couldn't hold back his thoughts any longer. Something about the fact that he couldn't actually see Chloe gave him courage to say everything he was thinking.

"It's just that I've made such a mess of things, Chloe," he began at last. "I've alienated Lana again, I've lost it with my parents twice, now…especially my dad. I went out of my way trying to protect Lana, and it turns out Curtis was after you all along."

"Clark-"

The door suddenly opened, blinding both of them temporarily. "I'm going to make this very simple for you, Clark." Clark squinted painfully in the light, trying to see Curtis' face as he cross the room and knelt in front of him and Chloe. "I invited you back because I wanted to finish explaining myself. Now that you've adjusted to your new life, I figure you'll be more receptive to what I have to say."

"I haven't adjusted," Clark spat. "I'm not giving up."

"Don't think I couldn't hear you two in here, Clark. You've all ready given up. And anyway, I have bad news for you." He came close to Clark's face, licking his front teeth, anticipating a final step in whatever twisted plan he had in mind. "See, Clark…there isn't a cure. You think I was born yesterday? That meteor- Kryptonite, did you call it?" He glanced at Chloe who blanched. "Well, whatever. It's not getting out of your system. So you better think long and hard about listening to what I have to say."

He got up and started for the door. "I don't believe you," Clark said loudly. "And I'm not buying into your games."

"Believe what you want, but…I didn't make a cure, Clark. Why would I? I don't get a cure, you don't get a cure. It's only fair."

"Curtis, what do you want?"

"Just think about it, we've got time."

"Curtis-"

"Let me know when you're ready to talk." He shut the door.

"Curtis?! Curtis!" He shouted angrily, smacking the wall hard with his head. It cracked behind him. The Kryptonite still clinging to his skin burned and the back of his head throbbed.

"Clark…" Chloe inched across the floor to him. "Are you okay?"

"He's lying, he has to be."

"I know."

"No, no you don't know! You don't know, Chloe!"

She wanted so badly to touch him, but perhaps he would have pushed her away anyway. She felt him shudder beside her and he sighed in that 'sorry I yelled at you' way.

"The…the argument I had with my dad?" Chloe didn't respond. "I told him he was never around. I said- things I didn't mean, things I…wish I could take back. But it wasn't him, it was me. I was scared, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

He shifted around in the dark, trying to ease the pressure off his wrists. "Chloe, you remember the day Jor-El returned my abilities?" He said quietly, barely over a whisper. If Curtis was listening, he didn't want him hearing keywords like 'Jor-El'.

"Of course I do. You were up in your loft, really upset about something. You said- that you thought you'd made a horrible mistake, that Jor-El said someone was…going to-"

"Die. Because of me." Again, Chloe couldn't think what to respond, so Clark continued. "Chloe…about a week ago, after Mom recovered from that Kryptonian virus, I had this- this really, really vivid dream. It was about Dad." Clark started to breathe hard as he spoke. "I thought- I thought that it was because of all the turmoil with Mom, that I was just overacting. But then I had it again…and again. Chloe, I had a vivid dream before the second meteor shower. And it happened, remember? And-"

"Woah, hey- Clark, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to your dad."

"Chloe, Chloe, you can't say that! You don't know!" Chloe flinched, hearing tears spring into Clark's voice. As he spoke, his words slurred together like he was having trouble controlling them. "I can feel when something's coming, I can't control it but I know. And now- because of Curtis, and I don't even know why he picked me, but he's…I'm never going to…If my dad dies, I'll never forgive myself."

All his thoughts were so disjointed, randomly spilling out of a frustrated heart. Chloe thought of a million things she could say, but each sounded weaker than the last. All she could say was, "Clark…"

Almost instantly, his voice steadied just a little, and he spoke more quietly. "When…when I was a kid, I saw this freaky cartoon at a sleepover at Pete's house. And what I hated the most was this kid got lost in a magical world and couldn't find his parents. I went home the next morning, after not sleeping at all that night, and told my parents that I was…I was scared I may never see them again if I went to sleep. That I might wake up in a different world, you know?"

"What'd they say?" She whispered.

"I…" Clark laughed, and it came out like something between a breathy cough and a sob. "I remember exactly what it looked like. My mom gave me hers and Dad's wedding picture to keep under my pillow, and then Dad said something I never forgot. He said- 'I'm going to give you the biggest, hardest, strongest hug you've ever had before I leave you. So, so long as I haven't given you that hug yet, Clark…I'm not going anywhere'."

Something clicked in Chloe's head. Her lip trembled, but she fought the tears. "Oh Clark…we're going to-"

"I'm never going to get that hug, Chloe. I mean, it's okay…I was like six years old." Clark whispered. He sounded defeated. "It just, I'm afraid I'm going to lose my dad and never…you know, never get that chance to, uh…"

"No." Chloe sat up, scooting right next to him on her knees. "No, Clark. You're going to get that hug, but you are not getting it today or tomorrow or a week from now, because Clark, you are not losing your dad. You hear me?"

"Chloe-"

"You're not. Now hold your breath."

"What?" He blinked hard, trying to get the sting in his eyes recede.

Chloe grabbed the collar of his jacket, gently pushing forward to bend over his knees. "Just hold your breath, Clark, this is going to hurt."

"Chloe- agh!" Clark's body went rigid as Chloe's bound hands closed around his wrists. She struggled with the tape for several minutes, trying to get Clark to breathe normally.

"It's okay, almost got it, it's okay it's okay…" Clark gasped, trying to think about anything but the searing pain cascading down his arms and back. Suddenly, Chloe let go, and still choking for air, Clark slumped onto the floor, hands free.

"You're okay. You're okay," Chloe whispered, panting almost as hard as he was. "Clark?"

"Yeah," he managed tightly, rubbing his wrists. "I'm all right." She sighed in relief as he slowly sat up and went for the tape around his ankles. Then he scrambled over to her. "Can you stand up? We've got to get out of here."

"Clark, I…" He heard her voice trembling. "I know you said my ankle's not broken, but I must have torn a muscle or something, because it's been swelling up. I don't think I can walk on it."

"Chloe-"

"Clark." She rightly anticipated exactly what he was going to say. "You have to go. You have to figure out a cure." He didn't respond, so she continued, her voice getting shrill and demanding. "Clark, you have to! You've got to go now, Curtis is going to kill you if you stay-"

"No he won't. He's messed up, but he's not a killer." Clark eased himself against the wall again, propping his knees against his chest. "And Chloe…I want us both out of here, and if I thought that I could get you out too, I would. But I won't go alone. Curtis has the only keys to a cure, and I…I need that cure."

Clark could feel Chloe building up to another objection, so he spoke first. "I want to take Lana to my family's Christmas party. I want to kiss her next to our tree like I've seen my dad do with my mom every year…I want Mom to shake me awake at five in the morning. I want Dad to put his hand on my shoulder when he's telling me something I'll remember for the rest of my life…I want-" and here, Chloe felt him looking in her direction. She smiled, even though he couldn't see it.

"I want to hug my best friend the next time she goes out of her way to help me out. Especially when no one else can or will. So I guess Curtis did one thing right. I never realized what a poison I'd made my own family and best friends. I was so scared of losing them, Chloe, I guess…I guess I almost did."

"Clark, you sound more like Jonathan Kent every day."

Clark smiled that instant, white smile he realized he hadn't shown in a long time. "He actually told me something like that after Mom got better. He said none of us are going to be around for ever, but we can't dwell on it. We just have to spend as much time as possible with the ones we love."

Chloe nodded quietly against the wall beside Clark. "That's good advice, Clark."

"Yeah, well…he's always right."

Chloe laughed. "Maybe you should tell him that when you find that cure."

Clark just smiled vaguely. "Maybe I should."

- - - - -