Sam had been proud of himself for a whole ten seconds on the way back to his car, before he realized that Clark and given him the slip.

He couldn't believe it. The sheer nerve. He had seen how much the Kents were suffering; how was it possible that their own son didn't even care?

Sam wasn't gonna leave it like this. He didn't care what it took. He might have to hunt him down again—given Clark's apparent habits, that might be easier than it sounded—and he would force him to come this time. Kicking and screaming, if that was the way it was going to be.

He was going to need a weapon he could use. Something harder for Clark to avoid than a little chunk of green kryptonite he could run away from.

Sam didn't know where the easiest place was to find something like that. He was sure kryptonite was all over town, but he was looking for something more. Maybe something liquid or powdered; it would hurt Clark like hell, but it would be temporary, and it would get him to come home.

Lex had always been curious about the meteors…

Sam didn't wait. He drove straight to the mansion. He doubted the security guards would let him in, but to his surprise, he found the place more or less abandoned, which meant getting in was as easy as breaking a lock.

It was almost eerie, wandering through the walls of the abandoned mansion. He kept half expecting Lex or someone else to be in one of the rooms, maybe even to tell him off for breaking in, but it was just silent. He went into the study to find a sigil painted on the floor in black: a circle with a pentagram and a bunch of symbols around the edges. He wasn't sure what it was, but it looked like a sign of some sort of demon activity, or maybe an attempt to ward off a demon. Over on a table beside the sigil, he found a couple of containers of water; one was tinted green.

Sam made a mental note to call Dean once he had dealt with Clark. He was starting to piece together what had happened here. There had been some sort of demon possession at the mansion; the water must've been holy water, only some of it had been infused with meteor rock, which made sense for a monster fight in Smallville, since the monsters they had encountered here so far had been infected and needed me a rock to be sensitive to the usual methods.

Right now, though, Sam's first priority was bringing Clark back. And this would be perfect. He grabbed the container of green tinted water and walked it down to his car. Holy water itself wouldn't have an effect on Clark, of course, but the meteors would. With powdered kryptonite in the water, Clark wouldn't be able to get away if his hair was soaked. Sam doubted the concentration was high enough to truly damage him, and besides, with the way he was acting right now, and the way he had abandon his family for life of crime, Sam had a hard time feeling any sympathy.

It took Clark less than a day to get himself reset. He had to find a new apartment, of course, but the cash he had grabbed on his way out of the old one had been plenty to get him started, and hitting two more ATMs gave him enough for a new ride that would turn heads when he arrived at the party that night.

He fingered the red ring, grinning. He was back.

The lights and music at the nightclub he hit that evening were particularly glaring, numbing any remaining discomfort he felt from Sam's visit. Now wasn't the time to think about that. He would have to think about it tonight, if he couldn't get someone to come home with him.

He eyed the liquor bottles behind the bar. He had been drinking a fair amount since he had moved out here, and it had never been enough to affect him. He really could've used a boost—the ring didn't feel like enough on nights like tonight.

He sat down at the bar by himself, and the bartender gave him a nod, pouring him his usual, even though it didn't matter. Clark's eyes scanned the club. There were a few hot ones tonight, most of them in little groups. He had learned the hard way many times that the ones that came in groups weren't looking to leave with some stranger—at least, so far, he hadn't found one that wanted to leave with him. He sighed and downed the drink in one. The first time he had ever drunk, it had tasted terrible. Now, he hardly noticed.

"I gotta know," a smooth voice beside him said.

He looked over to see one of the hottest women he had ever seen in his life. Slim, curves for days, long dark hair, full lips. A skirt and top that didn't leave much to the imagination. He almost didn't manage to hold in his whistle.

She stopped closer. "I gotta know," she repeated, "what is a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?"

He grinned. "Waiting for you," he said.

She laughed and put a hand on his chest. "You're funny. But seriously."

"I am serious. Have you seen yourself?"

She laughed again, and Clark felt like the alcohol was finally taking effect, even though he knew that wasn't possible. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Funny and a gentleman."

"Is that a yes?"

"Some other time."

"Would you rather dance?"

"I'd rather get outta here."

Clarks heart raced. This could finally be it. Somehow, he had managed to get through this many years of his life and these past few weeks in Metropolis and keep his virginity. Tonight, he was finally going to give it to the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. It was going to be the best night of his life.

She slipped her arm in his, and he left some cash on the bar for his drink and let her out to his new car. He might have just been imagining it, but it seemed like his arms and legs felt a little weaker as he walked by her. Maybe the bartender had made his drink a little stronger tonight, and it had finally done some thing. Or maybe it was just nerves. In any case, he had no problem driving her back to his apartment.

She seemed impressed by the car, and even more by his apartment—it was huge, but it was also pretty clean, because he hadn't had a chance to settle into it. As soon as they were alone, the door shut behind them, she pushed him against the wall beside the door and began to kiss him deeply.

It was happening. It was actually happening.

Than a horrible pain began in his stomach and under his skin, and he doubled over as she backed away.

When he managed to open his eyes and look up, there were three of them, two women and a man, and all three of their eyes were deep green—not just their irises, but the entire eye, as though they were wearing contacts that completely covered them. As though their eyes had been replaced by dark green marbles. He stood to runaway, to start again somewhere far away from here, but the girl he had kissed raised her hand, and his whole body lifted up and slammed against the wall. His head hit hard, and he collapsed to the floor.

The three people in his apartment—though he doubted they were people, more likely some kind of monster—spoke in hushed tones. He should have been able to make out the words, but he wasn't entirely certain they were speaking English, and besides, his head was still spinning from how hard he had struck it against the wall. It occurred to them that they probably thought the blow had knocked him out. If he could pull himself up, he would have the element of surprise on his side.

There were three of them and one of him. That should have been no problem, if they were humans, but he had no idea what they were.

He cracked one eye open, just enough to see the girl coming toward him.

Clark stood up suddenly and pushed her away from himself. She sailed back and hit the opposite wall, but she only stayed down for a moment before standing back up, grinning even as blood trickled from her nose.

Clark swallowed. That should've been more than enough to knock her out. He should know—he had knocked out a lot of people in the past couple of years.

The other two monsters rushed at him, and he did the only thing he could: he lashed out, fist swinging. One connected with the man's jaw, sending him flying back; the other was dodged, and the next thing he knew, the man was up and behind him. Clark swung again. But this time, his fist hit the wall, and the red ring shattered.

Agonizing guilt and shame paralyzed him even in the midst of the fight. When all three monsters descended on him at once, grabbing his arms and forcing him up, all he could think about was the fact that he would never have a chance to tell his mother he was sorry.

The two women pinned him back against the wall, and the man coiled a fist back.

And then the door slammed open. Clark couldn't see what was happening, but the next thing he knew, there was water spraying through the room—or maybe acid, judging by the way it felt on his skin. The grip on his arms loosened, and he mustered just enough strength to pull away before another hand grabbed his arm. All three of the creatures were screaming, smoke billowing from the skin where the water had touched.

"Come on, we got to get out of here," a familiar voice said, and strong arms supported him under the shoulders, helping him to stand and walk.

"Sam?"

"You're not gonna try to give me the slip again, are you?"

Clark didn't answer. He was still in shock from the attack, in terrible pain from the acid or whatever it was, and overwhelmed with guilt and grief because of the loss of the red kryptonite. He simply remained silent and used all the strength he could to get out of the apartment and into Sam's car, and Sam sped away.