Clark couldn't blame Sam for not wanting to get involved with the ship. He knew what he was doing was a risk, but he didn't see that he had any choice but to take it. His little siblings were at stake.

It wasn't easy to break through security at the excavation site at the caves, where they were storing the kryptonite key. Getting in wasn't the challenging part; getting out would be a lot harder. Clark could slip in faster than a security camera could see if he wasn't carrying kryptonite with him. Once he had the kryptonite, though he'd be struggling to walk, let alone run.

He ended up bringing the lead box Lex had given him. Safe in the lead box, the kryptonite wouldn't bother him.

Clark had to be careful about when he put his plans into action. Sam hung around him for almost every hour of every day. He played it off like he was just being friendly, catching up, but Clark knew what he was really doing. Sam was watching to make sure Clark didn't try anything he hadn't approved of.

Clark ended up scoping out the site when Sam was out getting his suit tailored, and he broke in to steal the kryptonite key in the middle of the night. And the next day, when Sam left for the wedding, along with Clark's parents, Clark went down to the storm cellar with the key.

Sam kept an eye on Clark over the next few days. He didn't believe for a minute that Clark had actually dropped his plans to destroy the ship—not at first, anyway. As the hours and days passed, though, without Clark so much as bringing it up again to try to convince him to help, Sam started to wonder if Clark had really dropped the matter. Sam even went to visit Lex to get his suit tailored, and as far as he could tell, Clark didn't try anything while he was out. It was a small town; he would have heard about a theft at the Luthor research site.

He gave one last attempt at convincing Clark to come to the wedding—to no avail—then he drove down to the chapel a little ahead of Aunt Martha and Uncle Jon. A butler came to meet him in the parking lot and led him to a little room in the back of the church.

Lex and Dean sat by a mirrored wall, chatting and laughing. Lex stood when Sam entered the room, and Sam tried hard not to think about Dean, who seemed to be avoiding his eyes. Lex was absolutely beaming. "Sam," he said, standing to pull Sam into a hug. "Thanks again for being here."

"Of course." Sam grinned. "Uh, the Kents are on their way. You asked them to stand in as your parents?"

Lex shrugged, his face falling, and Sam immediately regretted asking about it. But Lex just said, "My father has enough to keep his attention right now, anyway. Especially with the thefts at his cave site last night."

A heavy weight dropped into the pit of Sam's stomach. "Thefts?"

"Not important." Lex's smile returned, just as bright as it had been. "It's my wedding day."

Sam couldn't quite bring himself to smile back. "Lex, would you excuse me for a minute?"

"Of course," Lex said. If he noticed anything was off, it didn't show in his face. Sam could only hope he'd be that happy on his own wedding day.

He walked out of the room, but began to run as soon as he was outside. He found the Kents walking toward the church. Aunt Martha's face fell as soon as she saw his. "What is it?"

"It's Clark." Sam sucked in a breath. "We have to stop him."

Clark swallowed hard as he approached the ship. He could almost feel the tension in the air. It was as if the ship knew he was coming.

He opened the lead box with the kryptonite key, exposing himself to it. He knew what it would feel like, but that didn't make the pain any easier to take. It was like burning and nausea and intense weakness all at once. Time was, he had so little tolerance, he couldn't muscle through it at all. Today, he managed to pick up the key and put it in the ship.

The effect was immediate. The ship lit up and hovered, trembling and shaking—it looked the way Clark felt when he felt the effects of kryptonite. Clark stumbled back as it rose, the shaking becoming more erratic, smoke billowing from around the edges.

There was a huge blast of light, and Clark knew no more.

This time, Sam drove a little ways behind the Kents, rushing back to the farm. He should have known. Should have been transparent with Clark about it, should have kept trying to convince him, should have warned his parents . . .

The chapel wasn't far from the farm, but Sam doubted Clark would have waited long. There wasn't much time. Sam wanted to floor it, but the Kents' truck could only go so fast, and he was stuck behind them.

He wondered if he would know when Clark put the key in the ship. Could Sam be wrong? Could it have no effect at all? Maybe he was worrying for nothing; maybe everything would be alright.

Then an enormous shockwave of dust and earth rose through the cornfields, headed straight toward the road.

Sam gasped and slammed his foot on the brakes. He managed to stop his car stopped just in time.

The Kents didn't.

Clark wasn't sure how long he was out before he pulled himself out from the wreckage.

The first thing he saw after the enormous crater was his parents' truck, flipped upside down by the road.

He immediately ran to the hospital. He didn't have to check in at the waiting room. It was a small town, and he'd spent enough time at the hospital over the past year that the receptionists knew him. They nodded and let him inside.

His father stood in the hallway, staring in through the window into an examination room. Clark's mother lie unconscious in a hospital bed; doctors surrounded her.

Clark's heart dropped. He almost couldn't get the words out: "How is she?"

His father didn't turn to face him. "Doctors don't know yet."

Clark lowered his head. Sam had been right. Shame burned within him, so much more painful than the kryptonite had been. He didn't even know what to say.

"What did you do, Clark?"

There was no use hiding the truth. "I stole Lionel's Kryptonite key. I put it in the ship."

"And why did you do that?"

"Dad, I lied about the voice." Clark waited for his father to turn to face him, but he didn't. "It did come back. It told me I had to leave by noon. I didn't have a choice, Dad. I had to destroy the ship."

"Why didn't you tell us?" His voice cracked.

"I knew you wouldn't agree with what I did. I didn't want it to take me away from you, I . . . didn't want it to hurt the babies." Clark's eyes stung—those words meant so little now. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

His father finally turned to face him, his gaze harder than Clark had ever seen "Your actions have consequences, Clark. Didn't your mother and I ever teach you that?"

"Yes, but—"

"There's no time for excuses, Clark. It's too late. You—you didn't think this thing through. You had no idea what was gonna happen, and now . . . Now your mother is lying in a hospital bed."

Clark had never known it was possible for words to hurt so badly. Nothing he could think to say came close to defending himself. There was no give in his father's voice, no hint of forgiveness.

Clark had to wonder if there ever would be. If his mom didn't wake up . . . if the babies were hurt . . .

"Mr. Kent?"

Clark and his father both turned to see a doctor walking toward them. His father straightened up and looked her in the eye. "Doctor," he said, "how is my wife?"

There was little to no emotion on the doctor's face. "She has a mild concussion, but she'll be fine."

His father took a deep breath. "And how are our babies?"

The doctor breathed in, then paused, frowning. "Your daughter might pull through, but your son . . . I'm sorry."

Clark's heart sank. The whole world might as well have been collapsing in on him. He wished it would.

Son. His brother.

Clark had killed his baby brother. Maybe his little sister, too.

There was nothing he could say to make this right. Still, he managed to choke out, "Dad . . ."

His father shook his head, his eyes never meeting Clark's. He went into the hospital room and slammed the door behind him, leaving Clark behind.