Clark knelt down beside Dean first, shaking his shoulders. "Dean?"

Dean didn't wake up. Clark pressed his ear to Dean's chest—he was definitely still breathing, and his heart was beating, but he wasn't waking up.

"Dean!" Clark rushed over to Sam and shook him also. "Sam! Lex?"

All of them were breathing. None of them were waking up.

Clark ran home to his parents' garden, picked up a watering can before either of his parents could catch him, and returned to his friends. He poured a little water over Dean's face.

Dean sat up, shouting, "What the hell?"

Clark launched himself into Dean's arms. "You're okay!"

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"You got knocked out." Clark went over to Lex and poured some water on his face as well, then onto Sam's. Both of them sat up straight as well.

Lex winced, bringing a hand to the back of his head. "Ow. What happened?"

"There was a . . . a really strong gust of wind."

Dean blinked. "A what?"

Clark nodded. It was going to sound ridiculous, but they didn't have any way of knowing he was lying, and he couldn't exactly tell the truth. "You three all fell down and hit your heads on the fence. I . . . hid behind a tree. So I didn't get hurt."

Sam and Dean exchanged a glance, then Dean said a word that would have made Clark's mom threaten to wash his mouth out with soap if he said it in front of her.

"I'm not lying!" Clark cried.

"You've been lying since we came out here." Dean took a step toward Clark, and Clark cringed. "Tell us the truth, Kent."

"I—I—" Clark's eyes watered. He'd saved their lives and he couldn't even tell them, and now Dean was upset with him!

"Hey," Lex barked at Dean, "ease off the kid. Can't you see he's scared?"

"You've been out here before, haven't you, Clark?" Dean went over to the fence and scraped his fingers over the broken wood, picking up a scrap of fabric. "This matches a tear in your jacket, doesn't it?"

"Um . . ." Clark ran his hands over his bare arms.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Where's your jacket?"

"Uh, the wind—"

"You're going to tell me the wind blew away your jacket?" Dean shouted. "While you were wearing it?"

"No, it . . . it—"

"It what?"

Clark jumped, and a tear traced its way down his face.

Lex lunged at Dean, pushing him back against a fence post. "Clark would tell us if he knew something important. Leave him alone."

"Or you're gonna do what, Luthor?" Dean pushed Lex back. "You wanna go round two, finish what we started last summer?"

"You guys are idiots!" Sam yelled. "Let's go back to the house and take a deep breath, and we can talk about this. I'm sure there's a logical explanation."

Clark sniffled and wiped his eyes, but Lex and Dean's eyes were still locked onto each other.

"Let me show you something." Dean walked over to the other side of the fence and picked up a shoe lace—the one Clark had lost. "Check it out. This matches his other shoelace. He had to replace this one with twine."

"Okay, so he lost his shoelace out here," Lex said. "That doesn't mean anything, Dean, this cornfield is practically his backyard."

"You believe his gust of wind story?"

"No, but if he knew something about the monster we're hunting, don't you think he would have told us by now? He's not an idiot."

Clark couldn't take anymore. He ran away from them back toward his house. He wanted to speed away, but they could see him, so he had to keep it to how fast Pete could run. He could hear Lex calling after him, but he didn't stop running until he reached the barn, where he ran up into the loft. He plunked himself face down onto the couch and pulled a blanket over his head.

The other boys couldn't see him now, and the fear and pain of the last hour washed over him. Heavy sobs rose, and he sat up, pulled his knees into his chest, and cried into his hands, the blanket still covering his head.

It might have been a few minutes or it might have been an hour later that soft footsteps sounded on the wooden staircase. Clark doubted it was either of his parents—they'd be too busy with chores at this time—so he figured it was either Lex or Dean. He didn't really want to talk to either of them. Dean thought Clark was a liar, and he was angry. Meanwhile, Lex thought Clark was telling the truth about not knowing anything—and somehow, that was worse.

Clark wiped away his tears. "Go away," he said.

"Okay, I'll go. I just wanted to check on you. Our brothers were being stupid."

That was Sam's voice. Clark pulled the blanket away from his head.

Sam frowned and took a step closer. "Mind if I sit?"

Clark shrugged and moved the blanket aside.

Sam sat beside him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Dean can be kind of intense," he said.

"Yeah." Clark sniffed.

"I remember my first time . . . seeing a monster. I know it can be really scary and hard to talk about. So . . . if you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to."

That just made Clark feel worse. New tears filled his eyes.

Sam wrapped his arm around Clark and gave him a quick squeeze. "That trail was really scary. Whatever left it must have been pretty big and strong."

Clark just looked down.

"Hey. If you want to tell me anything . . . I won't tell the others without your permission."

Clark couldn't stand it. He was going to have to warn his friends about the monsters, and he had no idea what to say to the others. Dean was too intense, and he'd probably try to cut Clark out of the hunt. Lex would get upset if he found out he'd stuck up for Clark when he was lying, and Clark couldn't stand the thought of Lex being upset with him. But Sam was more . . . neutral. He just wanted to listen.

"You won't tell the others?"

"My lips are sealed."

"Promise?" Clark asked.

Sam nodded and smiled. "Cross my heart."

Clark took a deep breath. "I know who left that trail."

Sam's eyes widened. "Oh! Who?"

Clark's dad was going to kill him if he found out about this. But Clark didn't have any other choice. He swallowed hard.

"Who left the trail, Clark?"

Clark looked Sam right in the eyes. "It was me."