For a lot of fourth graders, bowling was little more than a fun game. Not Clark and Jackson. For them, it was a serious competition every time. A battle between first and second place. Their friends were left in the dust to compete for third place.

Jackson, with a turn in hand, was nine points ahead of Clark. A resolute Clark collected his ball. He was not about to lose. He was going to get a strike. He had to. Jackson's ego was big enough for a nine year old.

After a quick run up and a determined bowl, Clark's ball was headed straight down the centre of the alley. Filled with confidence that a strike was imminent, Clark started celebrating prematurely. Within the flash of the disco lights, a dark figure of an older teenage boy appeared out of nowhere at the end of the alley. He stopped the ball with his foot before it could reach the pins.

Another flash of the lights and the figure was suddenly right in front of Clark, using his height advantage to tower over the younger boy. One of the flashing disco lights froze on a bright white light, creating a spotlight which illuminated the two boys. The older boy's face was visible for the first time: Derek.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the older boy growled. "You were supposed to go straight home-"

The bowling alley around them descended into darkness. Jackson and the other friends had gone, replaced by the new presence of Clark's older sister Laura. In the darkness around their maintained bright white spotlight, Clark could make out the shape of trees. Suddenly, a hot orange light eradicated the darkness. The flames of a burning house became their only light source.

Loud, pained screams reached Clark's ears and pushed him into action. Clark was through the front door of the house in a heartbeat. He was greeted, not by flames, but by a graveyard. Badly burned hands broke through the soil and charred corpses pulled themselves out of the ground. In a blind panic, Clark stumbled around to return through the door. The door was gone. Instead, Clark was met by the sight of the graveyard expanding as far as he could see. Turning back once again, Clark was met by the sight of ten badly scarred family members fast approaching him, led by his twin sister. His legs failed him and he stumbled backwards in his hurry to escape the horrifying sight.

"You should have been there," the ten spoke in unison as Clark backed himself up against a huge gravestone. "You could have saved us."

"I-I-I," Clark spluttered as his dry throat refused to let him speak.

The pack of ten continued their approach, teeth sharp, claws at the ready and eyes glowing bright. "Now there's no one to save you," they growled in unison before Clark was lost under a sea of bodies.

-TW:H-

Clark awoke suddenly, sweating, screaming and thrashing in his bed. It took him a minute before he was able to fully regain control of his body's frantic movements. He focused on slowing his breathing and registered Derek's presence beside him. The weight of his older brother's protective arm over his shoulder was also reassuring.

"Nightmare?" Derek questioned, breaking the silence after giving Clark another couple of minutes to calm himself. Clark met his older brother's concerned green eyes and gave a short nod. "You were saying her name."

The fact that he was talking in his sleep was somewhat surprising for Clark considering his voice had been muted in his dreams. "Cora's?" he questioned and received a nod of confirmation from Derek in response.

"Was it about the house?" Derek asked, the question resulting in Clark breaking their eye contact, dropping his gaze down to his bedroom floor. It was his turn, once again, to respond with a nod. "You haven't had that nightmare for years."

"I know," Clark responded with a frustrated sigh before lifting his head up to look at Derek once more. "Have you heard from Laura?"

Clark had barely batted an eye when their sister had informed them of her plans to take a short trip back to their hometown. Laura had called upon arriving San Francisco International Airport but that had been three days ago. Neither Clark nor Derek had heard anything from her since. That was not like Laura who, after the death of their parents six years ago, had not only taken over the Alpha role but also the motherly one.

Derek's answer was exactly what Clark was expecting as much as he was hoping otherwise, "Still nothing."

"Let's go then," Clark said decisively, springing into action as he got out of bed and grabbed a white t-shirt from his chest of drawers.

"You don't have to come, you know," Derek pointed out.

"You're not going without me," Clark responded instantly. "We both know that Laura wouldn't go days without contacting us if nothing was wrong. Something has happened and you're going to need all the help you can get."

"But how much help are you going to be?" Derek challenged causing Clark, who had started packing a bag of essentials, to stop in his tracks and turn to face his brother. "We had one conversation about the possibility of going back yesterday afternoon and that alone caused you to freak out. I can't find Laura and deal with a frantic teenager at the same time."

"I'm not a kid anymore, Derek. I can deal with my own shit and the best way to overcome your fears is to face them. I can't do that from the other side of the country," Clark argued, turning back to the bag he was packing and forcibly placing his things inside. "And we're not going to help Laura standing here and arguing about this. So let's get packed up, get to the airport and get on the first plane out of here."

The only response Clark got was the sound of his bedroom door shutting as Derek left, appearing to finally realise that Clark wasn't about to let him leave him behind for any reason. Clark finished off his packing by collecting his electronic devices and relevant chargers and placing them into his bag. He threw the bag over his shoulder before crossing his room to open the door and step through it. He hesitated as he looked back into the room. A wave of uncertainty surged over him as he questioned how long it would be before they would return. And who would return. He chuckled nervously to himself. "Beacon Hills, here we come," he muttered as he closed the door behind him.