Martha drove me to the hospital. I tried to pass it off as a farming accident, but the doctor took one look at my arm and pronounced that it had been broken by a human hand. Sheriff Adams was called.

"Are you trying to protect someone, Mr. Kent?" she asked me.

Yep, and you'll never guess who, I thought. "Sheriff, it was a simple farming accident. Maybe it just looks like the imprint of a human hand because of the tire treads."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Tire treads?"

I nodded. "I was working under the tractor. I must have shifted some of the dirt around when I was crawling under it, because the next thing I knew, the tractor tire was rolling onto my arm. I managed to get out before my arm was crushed completely, thankfully."

When my 'confession' produced only a raised eyebrow from the woman, I pushed back the realization that I was becoming a good liar. I'd have to worry about it some other time.

Adams looked at Martha. "Mrs. Kent, can you verify Mr. Kent's story?"

Martha shook her head. "I was inside the house when I heard him yell. When I came out, he was kneeling next to the tractor clutching his arm."

It was equally startling to realize that Martha was getting better at it, too.

"Alright," Adams said, sighing. "I guess that's it, then. I'm sure I'll see you again, Mr. Kent, so until next time."

She left. Martha and I followed suit. My arm was now done up in a cast, adding to our already lengthy medical bills.

We got in the truck. Martha put it in gear and we headed out of the parking lot. "Where could he have gone?" she asked.

God, I wished I had an answer to that. The caves had been completely destroyed, meaning he wouldn't be going anywhere near them. The media was in a rage over their mysterious collapse. We'd watched the news in the hospital and listened to it on the radio over the last few hours, but all we'd heard were more reports about the caves; there was nothing about a six-foot tall invincible man anywhere. With Kal-El's ability of flight, he could easily be anywhere on the planet.

We spent the rest of the day in constant worry, going to every news web site we could think of and scoring the radio, television, and newspapers for any clues. We spent the whole time waiting for Clark or Kal-El to return to town, even though he had no reason to now that the caves were destroyed.

It was soon the next day, and then the next, and the next, and there was still no word. We spoke to Lex, Chloe, Lana, Lois, and even Pete, but none of them had seen him. I think Lana and Chloe both assumed that Clark had skipped town again like he had after he'd blown up his ship, and it wasn't like we could tell them otherwise. Lex promised to help search and so did Chloe, not that I really wanted the younger Luthor's help. Martha reminded me that, if I accepted his help, we could work together in finding Kal-El; otherwise, Lex would likely search in secret, and who knows what the billionaire would do if he found Kal-El first. He probably wouldn't tell us and would go out to get Kal-El personally, and that was something I'd rather avoid for a number of reasons. For one, it would prompt a lot of questions and even more suspicion towards us from Luthor. For another, there was no telling what Kal-El would do to Lex. While I didn't trust the man, I wouldn't let him get hurt if I could help it.

A week went by in a blur and we'd still found no sign of Clark. I watched the news like I had for the past seven days. There was nothing. It was as if Clark had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

I flipped through the news channels in frustration, then in a fit of temper threw the remote at the screen. "Damnit!" I exclaimed, jumping to my feet. Why were things fated to repeat themselves like this?

I stormed out onto the porch. Another storm was gathering on the horizon. It had been raining off and on all week as if the very skies were weeping for Clark's disappearance. Which was a strange mental allusion and something I wished I hadn't thought about.

It looked like a normal thunderstorm, but then how was I to know? Over the years, Jor-El had done some amazing things for a dead guy. I wasn't completely certain that the lightning bolt that hit the truck seven days ago wasn't Jor-El's doing. It was pretty bizarre for a truck to get hit by natural lightning, even in Smallville.

This was why I shouted up at the sky. For all I knew, Jor-El was listening, and it wasn't like I could go to the caves and have another confrontation with Jor-El there. "Haven't you done enough?" I shouted.

The screen door opened. I turned and saw Martha looking at me. "Who are you talking to?"

I sighed and collapsed in a chair. "No one." I brushed a hand through my hair in frustration. I didn't feel so good, suddenly, and knew it was probably because I'd forgotten to take my medication that morning. I doubted it would do me much good, anyway; Clark's disappearance was causing me enough stress regardless.

I ignored the worried look Martha gave me, and I hoped she wouldn't say anything. We both knew my health wasn't what it used to be, which was something else that could be attributed to both my stupidity and Jor-El's meddling. There was no point bringing it up now.

After a pause, she said, "We'll need to start harvesting soon."

I only nodded. It would be our busiest time of the year. We'd just managed to get through it in the past few years because of Clark. We didn't have any money to hire field hands with all the other expenses we'd had that year. If we didn't find Clark soon, we'd have to harvest without him. We'd likely lose half of our corn at the best.

"We may have to do without electricity for a while if we're going to hire some farm hands," I said. No electricity meant no way to watch the news. Maybe I could get a battery-powered TV set. "A few others things, too."

"Mr. Kent? Mrs. Kent?" The shouted inquiry was unexpected, to say the least. It was coming from inside the house.

We rushed inside. I didn't think either of us were expecting to see Bart Allen standing in our living room, but that's exactly who we saw. He wore the same red hooded sweatshirt and khakis we'd last seen him in.

"What brings you here, Bart?" I asked after I'd gotten over my surprise.

"I was just wondering what was up with Clark?" he asked us.

I looked at Martha. The same hope I felt was in her eyes. "You've seen him?" I asked.

Bart glanced from Martha to me. "Okay, you do know that he's in Quebec, right?"

"He's where?" I blurted.

At least he was still on the same continent.

Martha stepped forward. "Are you sure? Is he still there?"

Bart shrugged. "I saw him there a few hours ago. He was acting really weird, then he suddenly took off. Flying. I had no idea he could do that." He gave us another inquiring look.

"He's probably halfway around the world by now," I said quietly. "What exactly happened?"

"Well, I was trying out my French with this Quebecan girl, when all of sudden, I saw Clark standing in the field next to us. He was looking for something and he didn't see me. I followed him for about thirty miles until we got to this cave that's out in the middle of nowhere. I got there just in time to meet him when he left the cave. He was holding some sort of crystal or something in his hand. I said hello, and Clark just looked at me like he didn't recognize me. Then he said, um, 'Clark Kent no longer inhabits this body, Bart Allen. I am Kal-El, and I will fulfill my destiny.' That's when he took off, just shot up toward the clouds." He gave us a look. "What's going on?"

Martha and I exchanged a long look. "We have to tell him," Martha told me bluntly.

"Martha-"

"We need his help, Jonathan."

She was giving me the look, the one that it was rumored that all wives and mothers possessed. I should know; it was the same one my mother had used on me on many occasions. Martha didn't use that look on me that often. I knew she was right, but I didn't want to let someone else in on the secret. Still, what choice did we have?

It took a while to explain everything. When we'd finished, Bart sat back on the couch, mouth gaping. "Woah. Clark's an alien? And his father changed him into what I saw?" He laughed uneasily. "Talk about controlling parents."

"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?" Martha asked.

"He flew southwest," Bart said. "I tried to follow him on the ground, but after an hour or so he flew up into the clouds. I just kept running this way hoping to meet him here."

"He was heading this way? Are you sure?" I asked, my heart pounding. Perhaps finding Clark would be easier than we'd thought.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I was running across Lake Michigan when I lost him. He could have been going to Chicago for all I know."

Bart left with the promise that he would check around Metropolis and Chicago for signs of Clark. "I still know a few people who might help me out. Maybe I'll find something." Then he was gone in a flash of red.

Once he'd gone, I sat back in my seat and just stared out at nothing. It was good to hear that Clark was still around somewhere, but I just wished he was home and Clark was back in control, not Kal-El.

I stared down at my cast. Martha had decorated it with markered pictures of farm equipment. It had been her way of making things seem less glum, and looking down at them, I couldn't help but chuckle. Things would turn out; they had in the past, hadn't they? And if Bart had found Kal-El, although briefly, there was a pretty good chance he'd be found again.

I only hoped we found him soon, before Kal-El could do anything. I didn't know what destiny Jor-El had in mind for him, but I didn't think it was a good idea to wait and find out.

*****

I didn't think I would ever forget that scream.

It was the morning after Bart's visit. I'd been out milking the cows. I'd just finished milking the last of the herd when I heard it. It was coming from the barn. It was a scream not only of fear but of pain, and a good deal of both.

"Martha!" I cried, fearing the worst. I stood up rapidly, upsetting the bucket I'd just filled with milk and getting half of it on my pants. I rushed as fast as I could to the barn, wishing again that Clark was there. If he was, he could have been at the barn already, saving Martha more pain. But it was just me, and they were agonizingly long minutes that passed while I ran.

I saw Lana's car in the driveway. There was no sign of Martha anywhere, which meant that both of them had to be in the barn.

I ran inside and froze. My blood pounded in my ears as I took in the scene. Martha was lying in a heap below the far wall; a large dent in the wall above her indicated where she'd hit the wall before collapsing. Kal-El knelt in the middle of the barn, staring fiercely down at Lana, who lay on her stomach on the ground before him. Lana was unconscious, probably having passed out from the pain caused by the glowing crystal Kal-El held in his right hand. He held the crystal above a black tattoo on Lana's back. The tattoo was familiar; I would realize later that it was an exact replica of one of the symbols in the Kawatche Caves.

Kal-El looked up when I entered. He rose to his feet and stared at me. "You cannot stop me, Jonathan Kent," he said, clearly and forcefully. "I have already destroyed the kryptonite you have brought here since my departure."

"What do you want?" I asked.

"To fulfill my destiny," he stated without even missing a beat, as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

"What is that, exactly?" If only I could stall him. Bart was due to show up any minute now, and with the fastest man alive on my side, I'd have a chance against this truly alien persona inhabiting my son's body.

Kal-El glanced down at Lana and the crystal he held in his hand. "I will know soon enough."

He was going to take off, and he would probably take Lana with him. I could see him make the decision. I had to do something. "Are you sure you want to?" I asked him.

Kal-El paused and looked up at me, curious.

I continued, "Do you really want to do what Jor-El wants?"

I saw the anger cloud his face a split second before he super-sped toward me and sent me flying through the air and out the barn. I landed in the dirt on my bad arm.

Kal-El leaned over me. "I have had enough of your meddling, Jonathan Kent."

Before he could grab the collar of my shirt, a red blur rushed by. Kal-El lost his balance, twisted, and fell to the dust beside me.

Bart appeared holding a bent shovel. He dropped the shovel and helped me up. We scrambled away from Kal-El as he got to his feet.

Kal-El took a step toward us. In another lightning fast move, Bart had pulled a small lead box out of his pocket and opened it. I could see the glint of a green meteorite inside. Kal-El collapsed, gasping. I had to fight the paternal instinct to slam the lead box closed and run to his side.

I took the box from Bart. "Go help Lana and Martha. They're in the barn. Get Lana away from here as fast as you can."

"What about Clark?"

"I'll handle him. Go!"

Another blur and Bart had disappeared into the barn. I held the box out in front of Kal-El. I made sure to keep my distance so that he couldn't knock it out of my hands.

Kal-El glared up at me. The effect was lost by his grimace of pain. A cloud of confusion flew across his face. He blinked. "Dad?"

"Clark?" I asked, uncertain. It could be a trick.

Clark glanced around with as much strength as the kryptonite would allow him. "What happened?"

Damnit, if only I could be sure it was Clark. "What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was fighting...Jor-El." His eyes widened. "Kal-El took control after I'd won the fight. I was too weak to fight him...Lana!"

I closed the box with a thud, positive that this was my son. God help me if I was wrong.

Clark jumped to his feet. He took a step toward the barn and so did I. I didn't see Lana anywhere inside the barn, but I could make out Martha's form. Before I could go in and make sure she was all right, Clark cried out. He pressed his fingers against his temples and sunk to his knees.

"Clark!" I cried, torn between running to his side and running into the barn to check on Martha.

"Open the box!" he cried. "Open it, now!"

I pried open the lid and Clark fell the rest of the way onto the ground.

"How's it going?" Bart asked, appearing to my left.

"Where's Lana?" I asked him.

"I managed to wake her up and get her into her car." He nodded at the driveway. I turned and realized that Lana's car wasn't there anymore; I hadn't even heard it start. He continued, "I think she's okay. She seemed to be willing enough to get out of here, and she wasn't showing any signs of a concussion or anything so I figured it was safe enough to let her go in her car. I would have sped her away from here if I'd been able to pick her up."

I nodded. "Could you check to see if Martha's all right?" I said, wishing I could do it myself.

I didn't even see him go over to her and come back. "Her pulse is strong, but she probably needs to get to a hospital." He glanced down at Clark. Clark writhed on the ground, whether or not from the effects of the kryptonite I couldn't tell.

Suddenly, Clark went still. I nearly had a heart attack right then. I knelt down and felt for a pulse, almost collapsing in relief when I felt one. I closed the lead box.

"We need to get Martha to the hospital," I said, standing up again. Reaching a decision, I turned to Bart. "Bart, I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?" he asked.

"I need you to run to New York City." I gave him a street address. "I want you to find a Dr. Steve Hamilton. Tell him we need another bit of black kryptonite."

"Woah, woah. What if he doesn't trust me?"

I hesitated. It was a distinct possibility. Hamilton had never met Bart, and he wasn't aware of any affiliation the young man had with my family. I sighed and met Bart's eyes. "Do whatever it takes."

Bart looked rather surprised. I couldn't blame him. I bet I was the last person he expected to hear say something like that.

"Will it help Clark?" he asked.

"I hope so."

Bart nodded. "I'll be back in a flash."

And he was gone. I hurried into the barn, hoping that no more surprises would head our way. The last two weeks had been busy enough.

I had to get Martha to the hospital, but I couldn't just leave Clark there. I called Chloe. I'd worn a hole in the dirt floor of the barn by the time Chloe pulled up in her car.

"Mr. Kent?" Chloe called as she walked into the barn. She saw Clark and Martha and gasped. "Oh, my God! What happened?"

"Chloe," I said, interrupting any other questions she may have. "I need you to drive Martha to the hospital."

"What about Clark? He looks like he could use some medical treatment, too."

"He'll be fine." I hoped. "Please, Chloe."

She must have seen something in my eyes that stopped her from protesting further. "Alright."

We got Martha into Chloe's car and she drove off. I ran a hand through my hair as I walked back into the barn. Clark was still unconscious.

All I could do was wait and hope that, if Clark woke up before Bart returned, Kal-El wouldn't be in charge.

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