Chloe called after thirty minutes.

"The doctor's checked her over," she said. "She woke up on the way over. They say she's going to be fine. She broke a few ribs, but that's the worst of the damage."

Oh, thank God. "Thank you, Chloe." I swallowed. "Look, could you-um-"

"Don't worry, Mr. Kent. Lana and I will take turns watching her. You help Clark."

I felt so much relief in that moment. "Thank you, Chloe. For everything."

I hung up and went back out into the barn. Clark was still unconscious on the barn floor. I'd tried to get him up the stairs to the bed in the loft, but he was thrashing too much for it to be possible. I'd eventually settled on getting him a pillow.

During the time I'd been in the farmhouse he'd begun to toss and turn. "No!" he cried out as I entered. "Get out of my body! I am Clark Kent! I will not yield!"

I hesitated. I wanted to run over to him and shake him awake, but common sense warned me against it. In the end, I sat back down in my chair and watched him, my heart twisting with every shout my son made.

Bart was gone for four hours. It felt like four weeks. He was actually out of breath when he appeared, standing, beside me.

"Took me awhile to find the place," he said. "And I did ask for the guy, but he wasn't there."

"Did you get the black kryptonite?" I asked him, standing.

He pulled a chunk of black rock from his pocket. "I found this. Hope it's what you wanted."

He handed it to me and I tapped a finger against it. It made the same noise kryptonite made. "It is."

I turned back to Clark, unsure what to do with it now that I had it. Should I hold it against him, hoping it would hurt Kal-El and not Clark? If only Clark would wake up. Then I'd know who was in control.

"I am Kal-El!" Clark shouted in his sleep. A moment later, he exclaimed, "I am Clark!"

"What's he saying?" Bart asked.

"I wish I knew," I replied. Did the black kryptonite have an effect on him even now? I took a few steps back just to be sure. Even then, it didn't seem to make any difference; Clark continued to thrash and mumble in Kryptonian.

"Jonathan?" Martha's voice startled me. She walked into the barn, human speed-walking at first before a grimace caused her to slow down.

I walked over to her and embraced her, careful to avoid her ribs as she wrapped her arms around my midsection. I pulled back and looked into her eyes. "Are you all right?" I asked her.

She nodded. "I'll be fine. How's Clark?" Then she glanced past me. She covered her mouth in shock. "Oh, my God, Clark! What happened?"

I told her about what happened. "Martha, I don't know if Clark or Kal-El is in control," I said after I'd finished. I held up the black meteorite. "I asked Bart to run to New York and get this, but I don't know how effective it's going to be."

Martha bit her lip and looked down at Clark. She looked back at me. "What about Lana? Is she all right?"

I turned and looked at Bart, who up until this point had been standing at the other side of the barn, keeping watch over Clark while we talked. "Lana woke up. Bart got her to leave. I think she's going to be all right. Martha, what happened?"

"Lana had come over to ask if we'd heard anything about Clark when Kal-El showed up. He flung me into the wall." She shuddered and placed a hand over the bandages hidden under her shirt. I rubbed a hand across her upper back. I knew, looking at her now, that there would be more nightmares tonight for the both of us. "I don't know what happened after that."

"Mrs. Kent?" Chloe's call made my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Damnit, not this, not now. "You left your medical papers in the car..."

I thought about telling Bart to grab Clark and get the hell out of there before Chloe saw him, but I didn't. Bart didn't have Clark's strength; if he couldn't lift Lana, he certainly wouldn't be able to lift Clark. Still, I wished I'd done something other than just stand there like an idiot as Chloe entered the barn. She held the papers up in one hand, but when her eyes swept across the interior of the barn, the hand fell. "Is Clark okay?" she asked, worried and surprised to still find him unconscious after so long.

My brain desperately tried to think of some excuse. Martha began to stammer out a response only to be cut off by Bart.

"Um, Mr. and Mrs. Kent? I think he's waking up."

*****

My fingers squeezed around the black kryptonite in my left hand as I pulled the lead box holding the green kryptonite out of my pocket. Clark, or Kal-El, took his time sitting up. He groaned.

"Mom? Dad?" he asked tentatively. "Chloe?"

Martha took a step forward and I stopped her. "Martha, it could be Kal-El."

"Kal-El?" Chloe repeated, confused. "What's going on?"

"It's me, Dad," Clark said.

God, I so wanted to believe him, but doubt made me hesitate.

He tried to get to his feet, only to start gasping. He collapsed back to the ground. "I don't have much time," he said. "I need the black kryptonite."

He reached out a shaking hand for the meteorite. I contemplated tossing it to him, but I doubted he would catch it in the state he was in. I walked over to him, reached down, and grasped his right wrist. I placed the black kryptonite in the palm of his hand.

Suddenly, Clark's left hand snaked around and gripped my wrist. I looked up into the cold gaze of Kal-El. I felt his hand squeeze around my wrist as he began to yank my arm away.

I resisted even as I felt the bones in my wrist crack. I'd have two broken wrists when this was over, but I still wasn't going to let the pain prevent me from keeping that black kryptonite in Clark's hand. Kal-El was trying to force the black kryptonite out of control with his body and I wasn't going to let him.

"Jonathan!" Martha yelled in warning. I felt my hand getting hot. Kal-El's eyes had turned yellow-orange. The air between his eyes and my hand was blurry from heat.

My hand felt like it was on fire. I screamed even as I tried to ignore the pain. I wouldn't give in. I couldn't.

I pushed, fighting against Kal-El's depleted yet considerable strength. I pressed the black kryptonite into his right palm.

Kal-El screamed, or maybe I did.

Light radiated out from the black kryptonite, bathing us both.

Both of us passed out.

*****

The ground was shaking. I felt it through my cheek, which was touching the floor. I could feel a headache coming on; in fact, now that I was becoming more aware of myself, I was pretty sure that I was aching all over. It felt like the time when Lionel, in Clark's body, had just tossed me into the kitchen cabinet again. Either that or I'd just woken up from a three-day drunk. I'm not sure which would have been worse.

Someone was talking. If only I could hear them through the cotton balls that had once been my ears. I opened my eyes, shutting them immediately when my eyeballs were exposed to an intense light...

...an intense light that was radiating from hundreds of clear crystals.

Wait a minute...

I opened my eyes again and slowly sat up. Nope, I hadn't hallucinated it; I was staring at a wall of sharp, jutting crystals trapped behind a smooth sheet of glass. I wondered when Martha had decided to re-decorate the barn, and where the heck she'd managed to find so many crystals. Then I looked around and finally realized I wasn't in the barn anymore.

I sat in a corner of a large, crystal-lined room. The floor was made of what I guessed to be white and black marble. Sitting on a raised platform at the opposite end of the room were ten people wearing strange, one-piece suits that extended up to cover their necks and half of their hair. Kryptonian symbols were etched on a patch of fabric on their shirtfronts. Their expressions, stony and aloof, reminded me of Kal-El's.

I heard a footstep and tore my gaze away from the onlookers. Standing in the middle of the floor and facing each other were two identical copies of my son. They, too, wore the strange clothing. To my left was who I was certain was Kal-El - his expression mimicked that of the onlookers'. To my right was Clark, who wore a determined yet nervous expression.

As one, the two turned and looked at me. Kal-El's face hardened, but Clark's broke out into a relieved grin. "Dad!"

I got to my feet and went over to him. "Clark, what's going on? What is this place?"

Clark gave me a resigned, anguished look. "Roughly translated, it's the Hall of Challenges on Krypton."

"Krypton?" I repeated, incredulous. "But, son, Krypton was destroyed."

"But it lives on through me," he responded.

I glanced around again, trying to digest what, exactly, he was telling me. "Are you saying we're inside your mind?" Even after everything, I still had trouble believing something like that. Clark hadn't been a mind reader the last time I checked, so how could something like that happen at all?

Suddenly, I remembered the black kryptonite. It must have done something to send us here, wherever 'here' was.

"I don't know," Clark replied. "I don't know how you can even be here, Dad, but I'm glad you're all right." He glanced down. "At least your hands are all right here."

I looked down at my hands, only now noticing that the cast was missing on my left and my right hand no longer felt like it was doused in flames.

Okay, I think my mind is officially shutting down now. I'm just a small town farmer from Kansas. How much of this alien stuff do they expect me to handle? This was getting to be a little too much.

Clark must have seen my panicked expression, because he placed a hand on my shoulder. "It's okay, Dad. You don't have to accept it. Not in this place." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I do have to accept it, and it's giving me the creeps."

He looked at something to his left. I turned and nearly gave myself a coronary right there. A body lay sprawled on the floor near one of the glass-shielded walls. I hadn't even noticed it before.

I felt a lump form in my throat and swallowed it along with the bile that had risen from my stomach. "Is-Is that...?"

"It's Jor-El," Clark said, his voice quivering slightly. His eyes met mine. "I killed him, Dad."

For a moment I had a flashback to that time when Clark was ten years old and scared out of his mind because he'd super-sped for the first time and gotten himself lost in the woods. When Martha and I had found him, Clark had run into my arms, knocking me over with the force of his contact. I'd told him that everything was going to be okay, that he didn't do anything wrong.

Clark was looking at me with that ten-year-old's expression, silently pleading with me to tell him it would be okay. But I couldn't tell him that, could I? Not this time. No matter how much Jor-El had deserved it, or how much Clark hadn't had a choice, I couldn't tell him it would be okay. Clark had killed a man, his own biological father - I swallowed down another lump when my mind realized the possible implications of that- and nothing would ever be the same again.

Instead of saying anything, I hugged him. Clark returned the hug desperately. It was a long time before we pulled out of it. I had to clear my throat a few times before I could form anything coherent. "What's-what's going on now, son?"

I saw him flinch when I said 'son', and my heart tightened in my chest.

Clark licked dry lips. "Kal-El challenged me after I killed Jor-El. We've been fighting on-and-off ever since. It feels like we've been fighting for weeks. Kal-El wins more rounds than I do." He glanced across the room at Kal-El, who stood posed, waiting for the next round to begin. He looked back at me. "Dad, what has Kal-El been doing in the real world? Has he hurt anyone?" He winced. "Besides you."

"Lana and Martha were given a few scares," I began. Seeing the anguish in his eyes, I assured him, "They're going to be fine, though I think Chloe and Lana are both going to want to know what's going on after all this is over." I sighed.

His eyes widened, this time in surprise. "You mean, I should tell them?"

"I hope not, son, I hope not." Hopefully, Martha would be able to stall Chloe, and Lana would be able to get over whatever Kal-El did to her. Either way, none of that was important at that moment.

"Clark, you can't give in," I told him.

Clark's shoulder's slumped and exhaustion crept into every one of his muscles. "Dad, I'm trying not to, but Kal-El's stronger and faster than me. No matter what I do, he counters it and then gets through my guard."

"What about-what about the black kryptonite?" I looked around frantically for it, but like my cast, it, too, had been left behind in the material world. What good did it do to send me here but not the kryptonite?

Clark nodded. "Right...the black kryptonite. I forgot...I think I can use that."

"How?" I asked, flabbergasted.

Clark's shoulders straightened with a newfound determination. He glanced across the room at Kal-El again. "You'll see." He began to take a step forward, only to hesitate. He turned back to me. "Dad, I've been fighting for weeks now. If this doesn't work, I may not..."

I grabbed Clark's arm. Oh, no, he was not telling me what I think he was telling me. I wasn't going to lose my son, damnit! But what could I do? "Clark, you can do this," I told him. "You aren't going to die."

Clark wouldn't meet my eyes. "Dad, I'll try, but I don't know if I can." He swallowed and looked up. "Dad, you have to promise me that Kal-El will be stopped. That you won't let him kill anyone." Seeing me about to protest, he grabbed my shoulders. "Dad, promise me!"

I stared into his eyes. My heart was pounding in my chest. I wouldn't. I couldn't do it. I shook my head. "Clark, it won't come to that." I drew myself up to my full height. "Listen to me. You are not going to die. No matter how much faster Kal-El is or how much stronger, you are still going to win, and you know why?"

His brow furrowed. "Why?"

"Because you are Clark Jerome Kent," I said firmly. "You have never hesitated to save a life, no matter how dangerous it was to you or to them. Every time you developed a new power, you always found a way to control it, no matter how hard or impossible it may have seemed. Remember when you lost your sight, and you developed your super hearing?" I smiled. "Most people would have given up then, Clark. They would have been so depressed that they'd lost their sight that they wouldn't have been able to move on, but you did. You accepted it. Every time your powers got screwed up or left you, you still tried to help people, Clark, even though the odds were against you."

I nodded at Kal-El. "The odds are against you again, son, but you'll win. You have something Kal-El doesn't have: endurance. You've held on for a week already, Clark. Most people would have given in after a day, maybe not even that long. You can do this."

Clark took a deep breath and nodded. "You're right. I can do this." He smiled slightly. "You'd better step back, Dad."

I smiled back before retreating to the corner I'd woken up in. I turned around and watched, tense, as the next round began.

Clark straightened his shoulders before turning to fully face Kal-El. For a moment, their expressions were identical masks of determination. Then Clark settled into a fighting stance. "*I am ready*," he said.

I came upon a new surprise. I realized that, even though Clark hadn't been speaking English, I still understood him. It probably had something to do with the whole dream aspect, and thinking about it gave me a headache. Besides, I was pretty distracted by the fact that my son was fighting for his life.

As soon as Clark spoke, Kal-El rushed at him in a burst of super-speed. Normally, Clark would have moved out of the way, but those earlier fights must have taken a lot out of him even if he looked fine. Kal-El tackled him, and then the two were rolling about on the floor.

When they stopped with Kal-El on top, I gasped. Their hands were wrapped around each other's throats, and their faces were turning purple.

"Clark!" I began, taking a few steps forward.

"*You cannot interfere, Jonathan Kent!*" I froze and stared across the room. The speaker was one of the people on the raised platform. She had risen from her chair to address me, but her face was as impassive as ever. "*The rules forbid any meddling once combat has been initiated. You must stay back.*"

I felt fury rise within me. That was my son out there! But hadn't I encouraged him to do this?

It took every ounce of willpower not to run out there and jump onto Kal-El's back or something equally drastic, but I stayed in the corner, feeling more like I was in time out than anything.

"Come on, Clark," I muttered.

Clark let go of Kal-El's throat, grabbed Kal-El's hands and began to force them off his neck. His leg shot up and kicked Kal-El in the chest. Kal-El went soaring across the room. He impacted with one of the glass-protected walls and the glass shattered.

I hit the floor and put my hands over my head, protecting myself as much as I could from the shards and crystals that flew everywhere. A few shards sliced through my hands and arms, making me wince, but that was the extent of the damage.

I sat up. A really sharp shard was stuck in my arm. It wasn't deep, but it hurt like hell. I bit my tongue before gripping it and yanking it out, then sat there gasping a minute at the pain. I turned my attention back to the fight as I tore a section off my shirt and wrapped it around the wound. The other cuts would have to wait.

Kal-El and Clark were fighting at the center of the floor. Clark's nose was bleeding, and the back of Kal-El's black suit was torn in several places. There was even a crystal sticking out of his flesh, but he didn't seem to notice.

They were as vulnerable as I was in this place. Either that or they'd been fighting for so long that their healing powers couldn't keep up anymore. It made my heart twist in worry, and I forgot my own cuts.

Kal-El dodged a punch, grabbed Clark's arm and turned in place. He sent Clark flying. Clark hit the broken wall and fell to the floor with a cry.

Kal-El super-sped over to him, but Clark super-sped out of the way and over to the opposite wall. They faced each other again in the same positions they'd been in before the fight. They looked for all the world like the fight hadn't even begun, except now both of them sported several wounds and bruises.

"*You will not win, Clark Kent,*" Kal-El said. "*You are weak. You were too weak to do what was expected of you by our father, and for this reason you are too weak to be the head of our house.*"

Clark took a shaky breath. "*Perhaps the House of El just needs a do-over, Kal-El. Besides, you're not looking very well yourself.*"

"*They are wounds only,*" replied Kal-El. "*Our people do not depend on the flesh as much as Humans.*" He practically spat out the word like he'd swallowed a misquito. He smirked at me. I glared back. He addressed Clark, "*The one you call father is weak for this reason. Look at how he tries to stem the flow of his blood like his life is worth preserving.*"

A look of fury clouded my son's vision. He ran into Kal-El head first like his evil twin was a tackle dummy. Kal-El flew a few feet before hitting the ground. Clark stood over him. They glared at each other.

"*It's too bad you never learned the value of human emotions, Kal-El,*" Clark told him, "*and you never will.*"

Clark closed his eyes, his face twisting into a grimace. Something black shimmered in the palm of his hand.

"*No!*" Kal-El cried, getting to his feet. He tried to rush Clark, only to fall to his knees half way, gasping.

"*Stop!*" The Kryptonian woman shouted, standing again. "*The radioactive kryptonite is not allowed. The rules call for hand-to-hand combat.*"

Clark whirled on her. "*Then why didn't you interfere when Kal-El hit me with that sledgehammer earlier? If he can pull up weapons, why can't I? Maybe you are just a figment, too, conjured up by Kal-El?*"

She had no answer, I noticed. Instead, she seemed to flicker a moment before returning to solidity. Clark smirked, apparently having received confirmation for something - don't ask me what - then turned away back to Kal-El.

Clark now held a fully formed piece of black kryptonite in his hand. "*It took me until now to figure out how to do this, but I have,*" he said, nodding at the kryptonite. "*I've also just figured out a few things. You're nothing but a figment, Kal-El, created by Jor-El to replace me. But you can't. Because I am Kal-El, and I'm Clark Kent. You're just a...correction. That's why this hurts you. Black kryptonite restores a person, mentally and physically, to their natural state. That's why it has an effect on you and not on me. You're a parasite.*"

The walls shimmered, disappearing and reappearing like blinking Christmas lights. The Kryptonian observers also blinked in and out. Only Kal-El, Clark, Jor-El, and I remained solid throughout. A sinking feeling formed in my stomach. "Clark! We need to get out of here!" I called.

Clark glanced over at me, and in that instant, Kal-El made his move. Although obviously weak, he was able to knock the black kryptonite out of Clark's hand. The meteorite skidded across the floor and through the blinking platform.

Kal-El immediately stood up, rejuvenated. He punched Clark in the face and then the stomach. Clark caught his fist and punched him back. "Get the kryptonite!" Clark shouted at me.

Racing across the room, I stopped in front of the raised platform. It kept blinking in and out rapidly. The black kryptonite appeared every time the onlookers disappeared, but when I took a step toward it, my ankle collided with the edge of the platform, which had re-appeared.

It would be nice if I had super-speed. Unfortunately, I was still very human in this dreamscape. Clark and Kal-El were still fighting behind me, only Kal-El had become more desperate, I think. That didn't mean Clark was doing any better, though. I needed to get that black kryptonite now, but I didn't know if I could.

I watched the platform blink in and out, trying to time it. "Alright," I said, rubbing my hands as I readied myself for the jump I was sure I would need to do. "Now!"

I jumped...and I fell right through the platform and on the other side. I impacted painfully with the floor. Body aching and lungs screaming for breath, I scrambled over to the black kryptonite and snatched it. Then I turned around and repeated the jump, somehow making it a second time, although barely; my ankle almost merged with the platform.

"Clark!" I shouted, hoping to get his attention. Then I threw the rock.

He reached out for it and missed. The kryptonite bounced off his hand, bounced a few times on the floor, then settled five feet away on the far end of the room. Clark ducked a kick from Kal-El, reached out, and grasped the kryptonite. He whirled back around and held it up, catching Kal-El right on the chest.

Kal-El screamed. The kryptonite turned white and light spread out from his chest to the rest of his body. Then he blew apart...

...and everything exploded.

Next