Zoe Meta Zoe Meta v2 - Chapter 4, a lois and clark fanfic

Thank you to everyone who is continuing to read the updated version of Zoe Meta. I hope you are enjoying it!

Chapter 4

Boone waited in the Daily Planet lobby longer than necessary.

He'd given the receptionist his name and said he had a personal inquiry for Perry White. Not a story. Not a tip. Just a private matter.

Eventually, a young assistant appeared, clipboard in hand. "Mr. Voss?"

He nodded.

"Mr. White will see you now."

She led him to the elevator without asking questions, and Boone was grateful for it. Inside the cab, he kept his eyes fixed on the floor numbers as they lit up one by one. His reflection in the polished doors was unfamiliar: grayer, bearded, older. No cape. No glasses. No mask—but still hiding.

The elevator opened onto the bullpen floor, and the hum of old routines washed over him. Phones ringing. Keys clacking. Low voices threading through deadlines.

He followed the assistant without hesitation, but let her lead. He knew every inch of this place, but Boone Voss wasn't supposed to. Boone didn't know the path to Perry's office. Boone didn't belong here.

Perry was waiting just outside the glass-walled conference room. His stance was guarded, but not hostile—yet. His eyes swept over Boone, the chair, the face.

"Boone Voss?" he asked, voice rough with disbelief or habit.

"Thanks for making time," Boone said.

"You said it was personal."

"It is."

Perry nodded once and opened the door. Boone wheeled in, quiet and steady. The room hadn't changed. Framed headlines. Thin carpet. Glass walls that offered no privacy at all.

Perry followed him in. The door swung closed behind them with a soft click.

"I've got five minutes," he said. "Start talking."

Boone kept his hands folded on the armrests. "I was at the Webbers Falls press conference yesterday."

Perry leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Waiting.

"There was someone there. A woman. She called out a name—'Clark.' Just that. One word."

Perry's brow creased slightly. "And?"

"I didn't turn around," Boone admitted. "But I haven't stopped thinking about it. I thought maybe…"

Perry didn't blink. "You came here to track down a voice in a crowd?"

Boone nodded. "When it echoes like that, yeah."

"You think it was someone you know?"

"I think it might've been Lois."

That landed.

Perry didn't move. But the temperature in the room changed.

"She hasn't been with us in years," he said slowly.

"I figured," Boone replied.

"What's your interest in Lois Lane?"

Before he could answer, the door opened again.

"Sorry—got the message late."

Jimmy Olsen stepped into the room, camera bag slung over his shoulder. He stopped when he saw Boone. "Oh. Hey."

Boone nodded. "Hi."

Jimmy's brow furrowed. "Do I… know you?"

"I don't think so."

Jimmy tilted his head, squinting. "Huh."

Perry cut in. "He thinks he saw Lois. Wants to know where she is."

Jimmy turned to Boone again. "Why?"

Boone shifted in his chair. "I don't want to disrupt anything. I just… if it was her, I need to know."

"You don't know her," Perry said, voice flat.

Boone didn't respond.

"You didn't even say her name until I did," Perry added.

"I didn't think I had to," Boone said carefully. "You knew who I meant."

Perry narrowed his eyes. "Funny. Most people don't talk about her at all."

Boone stayed silent.

Jimmy spoke up, quieter now. "She doesn't go by Lois Lane anymore."

Boone glanced at him, uncertain. "No?"

"No," Perry added. "Nowadays, she's Elaine Kent."

Boone froze.

It wasn't much. Just a breath. A slight hitch. But it was enough.

"You didn't know that," Jimmy said.

"No," Boone admitted, voice low. "Jimmy… what happened?"

Jimmy's brow furrowed. "Say that again."

"What?"

"That line. Just… say it."

Boone blinked. "Jimmy, what happened?"

Jimmy went still. The blood drained from his face.

"Oh my God," he whispered.

Perry turned sharply. "What?"

Jimmy pointed, stunned. "It's him. It's CK."

Boone didn't deny it. He just sat quietly, hands still.

Perry stared at him, eyes narrowing. "Is that true?"

Boone held a pregnant breath before he reluctantly nodded. "Yes."

Everything in the room shifted.

Jimmy sank into a chair, eyes wide. "Jesus, man. We thought you were dead."

"So did I," he said.

Perry didn't sit. "You disappeared."

Clark nodded. "I left thinking I could come back. But when the time came… I couldn't. I wasn't who she remembered. Not even close."

"You didn't come back at all," Perry snapped.

Clark took it.

"I don't know what she thought happened. I don't know what you've been told. But when I finally came back…" He tapped the side of the chair. "I wasn't the same. I thought I could wait until I was better. Stronger. Until I could be the version of me she remembered."

Perry's jaw clenched. "And in the meantime, you let her bury you."

Clark's hands gripped the chair arms tighter. "I know."

Jimmy looked at him. "You missed a lot."

"I know."

"She has a son," Perry said.

Clark blinked. "She—what?"

"Jerome," Jimmy said softly. "He's about four now."

Clark sat back like the air had left the room. "I didn't know. I had no idea."

"She didn't know you were alive," Perry said. "You left her to figure it out on her own."

Clark nodded slowly. "I'm not asking for anything. I just… need to see her. To explain."

Perry narrowed his eyes. "Explain what?"

"That I wasn't strong enough to come back. That I stayed gone for the wrong reasons."

"You think she needs to hear that?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't know what she needs," Clark said. "But I know what I owe."

Perry walked toward the door but didn't open it yet.

"She's not in Metropolis anymore."

"I figured."

"She's not hiding," he added, "but she's not easy to find, either."

"I didn't want to show up unannounced," Clark said. "That's why I came here first."

"She has a life," Perry said. "A son. A new name. And people who've helped her hold all that together."

Clark nodded. "I don't want to hurt her."

"She knows your name," Perry said. "She told Jerome who you were. But she never told him the whole story. That was her choice."

"I won't confuse him," Clark said. "Or push."

"You're damn right you won't."

Jimmy gave Clark a long look. "We missed you. But that doesn't mean we forgot what you cost her."

Clark met his gaze. "Neither did I."

He wheeled himself to the door.

And as he left the bullpen—quiet, anonymous, scarred—he knew one thing for certain:

There was no version of this that didn't hurt.

But pain was the price of return.

And maybe, just maybe, it could also be the beginning of something 4