AN: Apologies all around for the length between the updates. I recently moved and getting everything set up was more of a pain than you could ever imagine (unless if you've move before, then you know what I'm talking about). Anyway I felt so bad that it was taking me so long, that I thought I would update even though it's only one chapter. But it's the longest chapter yet, so maybe that will make it up to you guys.

PS: Feel free to kick me in the head the next time it takes me a month to update.

Chapter 31:

Clark sat sideways at his desk in the same spot he spent countless hours sitting over the past couple days. He stared at same spiral knot at the top of the same plank of his hardwood floor. Yet, even spending the better part of four days looking at the dark brown spot, he never really saw it. His green eyes searched beyond the floor, beyond anything physical or tangible and grasped onto the one thing it had left: his mind. But, even that was slowly slipping away as every tantalizing second ticked by.

He knew his seclusiveness worried his parents. That was why whenever they came upstairs with a chore for him he would complete it without complaint. Yet, once the chore was finished, and there was a moment where he wasn't sure what to do, he found himself back in his room, sitting in the same chair, staring at the same spiral knot on the floor. It wasn't that he was tired. God knows it would take for more than a few farm tasks to wear him down. And he wouldn't say he was lazy; it was something beyond that. It was more like he was unmotivated. He couldn't find the point in living when it could be taken away with a bat of an eye. And he couldn't miss something if he never experienced it.

He heard the door open and saw a silhouette in front of him, but never bother to look up. He knew it was one of his parents anyway and by the long hair in the shadow he figured it must be his mother asking him to come down for lunch.

"Hey there, Clark," a female voice, higher than his mother's, echoed throughout the silent room.

Clark jerked his head up and was instantly met with the soft hazel eyes of Dr. Harris. "Cassie?" he asked, his voice gruff from the lack of use over the last several days.

Looking at his shocked face, Cassie smiled. From what the Kents told her she figured it must have been the most emotion he has shown in days. "Surprised to see me, huh?" She greeted with a smile. She glanced around the room for a second before taking a seat on a closed hamper, careful not to break it.

When Clark merely nodded and returned to looking at the floor, Cassie realized that the Kents called her just in time. Since noticing Clark's superior mentality, she had been worried about his overriding emotions. She knew all too well that people recovering from serious trauma quickly fall into a deep depression, sometimes making it almost impossible for her to help them recover from their past. She had hoped that it wouldn't happen to Clark, and now she just hoped she wasn't too late.

Scooting the hamper a couple feet closer to Clark so she could make physical contact if she needed to. "You know, Clark, your parents are very worried about you." Her voice held no edge or venom, just concern.

"I know," Clark whispered, and, if it was possible, he lowered his head a bit more.

"Do you know why they're worried?" Much to Cassie's dismay, Clark merely shrugged. Knowing she was going to have to pry the words out of him, Cassie urged, "You must have some idea."

"'Cause I spend all my time here," he muttered. Clark wasn't sure why but saying each word was a great effort, and, after forming a simple sentence, he was mentally strained

As if sensing Clark's weariness, Cassie quickly changed to topic. "You must be so tired," she stated as she tilted her head in sympathy.

Clark raised his head a bit, but his bangs still hid his eyes from view. "I can't get tired," he answered simply.

Slightly smiling at his innocence, she placed her hand on his thigh, ignoring it as it tensed beneath her palm. "You can become tired in more than one way. I know physically it takes a lot to make you tired. But, emotionally, you must be exhausted."

Clark's brow furrowed with confusion at what she said. Removing her hand, she calmly answered one of his silent questions. "I can sense it. I don't have to see your eyes to know how tired you are. Nobody blames you. You've been through a lot over the past year."

Without warning Clark couldn't get enough air in his lungs. His bangs still obscuring his vision, his eyes searched wildly for answers to his unasked questions. He didn't know why he felt so tense all of the sudden, but he would give anything to make the feeling go away. Dragging in deep, shaky breaths, he wrapped his arms around his stomach.

Seeing Clark quickly close in on himself. Cassie reached over and slowly raised his chin with her hand. As she looked into his bright green eyes, she calmly asked, "What are you tired of?"

Transfixed by the kindness behind the woman's hazel eyes, Clark answered without thought, "…of not having a purpose of my own."

The pure candor behind the answer took the psychologist aback, especially coming from a being who was obviously meant for such wonderful things. "Clark, you have to give yourself a purpose. Something that drives you to continue," she encourage, placing her hand on his thigh once again.

Looking beyond her, he muttered, "There's no point."

"What makes you say that?"

Clark lifted his head and looked directly at the woman, his despair blatant in his eyes. "Because they're coming back," he whispered as if he was telling a secret.

Two hours later, Clark found himself in the passenger seat of Cassie's car. After confessing his fears to the psychologist, he felt no desire to tell her anything else. And after several minutes of a simply nodding or shrugging, Cassie got the picture and silently left the room. He sat in silence, feeling no urge to hone in on the conversation between his parents and Cassie, even though he could hear their soft voices from upstairs. Eventually, he found himself ignoring the world around him and lost in his own thoughts once more. He wasn't sure how much time slipped by before he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Startled, he flinched away from the hand and was even more surprised to see Cassie in front of him.

"Clark, there's something I want to show you. Do you mind if we go on a little road trip today?" she asked, her tone urging him to agree.

Not caring either way, Clark merely shrugged and followed Cassie to her car, not having the slightest idea of where they were going. Despite his best efforts, there was still a feeling of dread as they pulled out of the driveway, for the first time leaving his parents since is return. Yet, no matter what happened or where they went, Clark knew anything would be better than being alone in his room, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

As Cassie pulled to a stop, Clark snapped himself out of his thoughts, for the first time taking in his surroundings. His brow instantly furrowed as he looked around the large cemetery. He quickly glanced back at Cassie, his mouth forming a question that he didn't have the will to say.

Slightly smiling at Clark's bewilderment, Cassie placed a comforting had on his shoulder. "C'mon, Clark, there's something you need to see." She exited the car and headed towards the graveyard, hearing Clark's heavy footsteps closely behind hers. The afternoon sun gleamed brightly in the sky, its rays reflecting off of the marble tombstones. It took her a while to find the intended gravestone, since she did not have time to research its exact location for the impromptu visit. Finally spotting the name amongst the newest headstones, she moved towards it and stopped, praying that it would bring some type of closure to the troubled boy's soul.

Clark looked down and the plain, cement headstone, proclaiming a Thomas Kimball's demise. His brow furrowed at the name, wondering how it was significant to him. Before he could ask, Cassie answered the question for him.

"This is Thomas Kimball, better known as Dr. Thomas Kimball, the head surgeon of a highly secretive research team in the underground of Metropolis." Cassie's eyes remained locked on the tombstone as she tried to keep her voice devoid of any emotion. "He disappeared a couple months ago with a handful of other highly proclaimed scientists scattered throughout the city. Having no close family member to continue the search for him, he was one of the first ones to be buried, even though his body was never found." She drew a shaky breath, recalling his lifeless, blue eyes staring up at her in horror as blood continued to trickle of out his mouth. "I saw him dead with my own eyes...along with everyone else associated with that horrible place." A slight shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the grotesque display of mutilated bodies littering the walls of the laboratory. She looked at Clark, the finality in her voice unmistakable. "Everybody who worked was the lab was killed."

"I wish I saw it."

Shocked by the venom in Clark's voice, Cassie snapped her head towards the boy, noticing his body tensing as he glared at the tombstone. "I'm going to go back to the car, you can come when your ready," the psychologist stated. She hoped the time alone would give Clark the chance to release some of the fear and anger brewing inside of him.

Clark barely heard Cassie as she spoke to him. He wasn't even aware when she left him. All he could focus on was the name clearly etched in the tombstone. Cassie word's echoed in his mind, "Dr. Thomas Kimball...head surgeon..." Even though Clark never knew the name, he would never forget the face. The harsh, blue eyes that would stare at him as if he was nothing. An inhuman thing that was created to satisfy their curiosity.

Clenching his teeth, Clark closed his eyes trying to get the image out of his head. He looked back at the tombstone. Its bold letters mocking him, because he knew that he body he desired to destroy was not beneath it. "I hope it hurt..." he muttered through is teeth, his voice husky with emotion. "I hope you suffered, so you could see how it felt...how it felt to be cut open-" he breath hitched, the pain too fresh in his mind. He crashed to his knees and pounded his fists in the ground, creating two small craters. "This was too good for you!" he spat, tears clouding his vision. "You...you..." His breath quickened, unable to think of the words to describe the hate flowing through his veins. Dropping his head, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Clark looked back up at the tombstone, the name now blurry through his tears. A pain in his abdomen sprung to life, remembering the searing burn as the green scalpel cut through his flesh time and time again. "Why?" he muttered under his breath as the first tear fell. "Why did you do it? Why was it so important to you?" he asked the stone, needing to know the answer. "Because I was different? Because I wasn't born here?" His breathing became harsh an erratic, tears freely flowing down his face. "Well, I hope it was worth it! I hope you found what you were looking for! I'd hate to think you ruined my life for nothing!"

oOo

Cassie watched as the sun descended behind the skyscrapers of Metropolis. Glancing at her watch, she exited the car, knowing Clark's parents must be worried at what was taking so long. Walking through the soft grass, she saw Clark in the distance, hunched over on his knees, and instantly picked up her pace. When she finally reached him, soft gasp escaped her lips. The tombstone that was in front of him was now a pile of rubble, broken to beyond recognition. She immediately turned her attention towards the young man in front of her. Still on his knees, he clutched the grass as if his life depended on it, his hair obscuring his face from view. Cassie placed a soft hand on the boy's shoulder, letting him know she was there if he needed her. Clark turned his tear-stained face towards her and stood up. A word was never exchanged between the two as they headed towards the car, back to Smallville.

To Be Continued...