5:
The boy died again. He was killed while fighting the metahumans and a few of those 'superheroes'. I cannot save him this time, Miss Lane. Jon was dear to me. As dear as if he were my own child. I tried to go back in time to take a DNA sample from you and Clark Kent, but I failed. He was murdered before I got to cure him.
I press the 'stop' button, and stare at the road before me. My other hand is on the wheel while the other is clutching the recorder tightly up to my ear. I still cannot believe it. I cannot bring myself to believe any of it.
Even without playing the tape, Dr. Johnson's words echo in my mind. We must reset the time stream back.
Not one ounce of what Dr. Johnson said makes sense. For one, I certainly think of Clark as a friend. A friend and nothing more. Surely, if we had been lovers - and married, for that - in a distant possible past we should have felt something for each other in this time. A little spark... Or a slight attraction, even.
A swerving black car pulls me from my reverie. I blast the horns with all my might and change lanes.
Another, he is surely mad at me now. We could not have had that legendary love story that Dr. Johnson raves about. And it is most unlikely he and I will share even one night with each other and have a child.
He's Clark, for goodness's sake! He's different. Different from all the boys I have ever loved or befriended before. Different from those men who hurt me ever since I was a kid. Clark is different. Because for once I have a loyal friend I can run to; someone who understands me; someone who puts up with me; someone who listens to me.
He is different, Lois, because you love him.
No. I love him as a friend; my good friend whose trust I just broke. I don't want to hurt Clark. Though, in retrospect, it seems as if hurting him and leaving him is what I always do.
"Oh, Clark," I whisper. "I'm really sorry."
A part of me wishes he heard me with his super-hearing; wherever he may be now in this universe... yet another side of me wishes he won't - that he'll continue being Superman and not mind this silly Lois Lane who loves him.
Because it's too late. It's too late to be sorry.
I read Jon's messages again as I walk to my apartment building. He never wavered sending me some and only stopped this 7 in the morning. What irony. My supposed half-alien son is named Jonathan too. I guess he got named that because of Mr Kent. I would never name my child after my boyfriend. I think that is like a disservice to one's husband.
Poor boy. It certainly wasn't his fault his parents had different DNA's. If I were to find that past alternate version of me, I would certainly tell her to back off from having babies with a Kryptonian. It might save her some heartache, save Superman much mourning, and save an innocent life.
But then again, I don't know what kind of romance that Lois Lane had with that Clark Kent. They're different. Heck, they're from a different time.
Dr. Johnson made them sound like tragic characters from Shakespeare, even calling them literal "star-crossed" lovers. And though I do not initially believe that nonsense, I should definitely get to the bottom of it all.
"'Morning, Miss Lane!" Officer Harvey, the guard at my apartment, greets me as I go about the revolving door.
"Good morning too, officer," I reply, tucking my phone into my bag and smiling to the kind, old guard. I have to hide Dr. Johnson's tapes here. They're not safe at the Planet. The newshounds - especially the younger ones - have a keen sense of smell. So no.
I walk straight for the elevator, and caught one that is just about to depart with a mailman inside. He presses the first floor button and asks what floor I am. Hey, I guess chivalry isn't dead? The mailman looks nearly forty; maybe he has a wife and three kids at home.
Everything seems fine.
I walk down the hall, my key in hand. My place is near the stairs, and at the far end of the long hall. It is a sprint, not so much of a walk, really. I still have my job, and Perry knew I'd be back before lunch.
Reaching my door, I turn the key in its lock and hold my breath as I step in. So far, nothing has changed in my room. No forced entry. No notes written on my mirrors in red lipstick. No suspicious activity.
I close the door behind me and sigh. As soon as I got out of the kitten heels, I dial Jon's cell. "Lo?" he answers, surprised.
"Hey," I mutter, watching the bright clear Metropolis skyline from my window.
Jon laughs a little. "God, I thought you'd never talk to me again. Are you alright? Perry told me you were chasing a lead in Gotham."
I trace the top of the different skyscrapers with my finger. "Yeah," I mutter. "Jon...do you think I did the right thing?"
Jon pauses for a moment before he answers, "What wrong thing did you do?"
"Clark," I sigh and let my finger stop at the tip of the LexCorp building. "I feel...guilty. Then Perry White, of all the people in Metropolis - he's going all Pontius Pilate on me."
"You did nothing wrong, babe," my boyfriend offers nonchalantly, "Perry's just frustrated because he lost Kent again. You know the man, he prizes that farmboy's knack at getting scoops. As far as I know, Lois, what you did was just the right thing to do. The world needs to know the truth. Who knows what's running in Kent's mind? He's powerful. He needs to be kept in control."
What if Clark Kent was the one keeping Superman in control?
"Don't worry Lo," Jon continues, "don't think about it anymore, okay? It's done. It's over with. You just did your job."
The skyline ripples before me. I brush my eyes and squint. "Thanks, honey."
"No problemo. Friday night?-" Jon hangs up. The world continues to spin around me. I turn around in my heels and saw a shadow moving behind my cabinet at the far corner of my room. Great. Great...