Sam didn't sleep at all that night.

The Kents had bought his cover story easily enough when he went to say good night to them—he just told them that he and Clark had ended up stopping by Clark's friend Pete's house, and that Clark had stayed the night there. It was a small enough town that Sam guessed the parents were pretty comfortable sending their kids to stay with each other for the night, and it was late enough that the Kents didn't pick up the phone to check on his story. They did ask Sam whether Dean was already asleep, and Sam just said that he was.

Sam assumed it wouldn't be a problem. Dean would be back with Clark long before anyone woke up. Sam figured he'd sleep fine as soon as they came back.

But they didn't come back.

Sam's heart pounded harder and harder with each passing minute, and his adrenaline spiked when the first rays of light began to peek in through his curtains. Farmers tended to wake up with the sun. Sam was either going to have to play dumb, or come up with a more convincing cover story.

He wished he could just tell the Kents the truth. Sam didn't always completely agree with the rule about never telling anyone about what they did as hunters. He understood why they had the rule—most people would think he was crazy if he tried to tell them about monsters, and it was better for people's sanity to believe the world was safe. Sam wished he'd gotten a few more years of innocence himself. On the other hand, though, it would be cruel to lie to the Kents about what was happening to Clark.

Cruel to lie any more than he already had.

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Sam was still undecided about what he was going to say when a loud knock on the door nearly jolted him out of his skin. Sam sat up in bed, pushing his covers aside. "C-come in," he said.

Mr. Kent threw the door open, flicked on the light, and stormed inside, crossing his arms. His eyes bore holes in Sam. "Okay. Where are they?"

Sam looked down at where Dean was supposed to be and forced his face to look surprised. "I—I don't—"

"Cut the crap. We know you lied last night. Clark's horse wandered back this morning without him. If he'd gone to stay with Pete, they wouldn't have let her wander free. I suggest you start talking before you make things worse for yourself."

Sam felt the blood drain from his face.

"Lex is gone, too. And Dean, apparently. I'm sure you know something about that."

Sam blinked in genuine surprise—he hadn't expected Lex to be gone."I don't . . . maybe they forgot . . ."

"I'm going to call the police now." Mr. Kent took a step back toward the door.

"Wait."

Mr. Kent's burning glare turned back to him.

Sam winced. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Kent, Clark and I went out to that warehouse that got destroyed by the meteors, and Clark went to investigate, only I lost him and couldn't find him anywhere and I ran back on Cinnamon and Dean and Lex went out to look for him—"

"—and you didn't tell us? You lied to us when our son was missing?"

"I'm so sorry." Sam swallowed—he and Dean were absolutely getting kicked out as soon as they got Clark back. If they were all still alive. Sam forced that thought aside. "I know there's nothing I can say to—"

"Get up. Let's go."

"W-what?"

"To the warehouse."

"But . . ." Sam scrambled out of bed. He didn't exactly want the Kents to find out the truth about monsters—it was a cursed knowledge, something they could never unlearn—but if they happened to find out about the creature that had taken Clark, that would at least help keep them from living with unsettled questions for the rest of their lives.

"Get dressed," Mr. Kent said. "If you're not down in two minutes, we're leaving without you."

With that, he left the room, closing the door behind himself.