"Shit," Clark swore, a hand rising to run through his dark, scraggly hair. "I wasn't expecting you to pass." His voice wasn't any less bitter, but there was a definite tone of surprise lurking in his statement. So what was she? Not a shifter (or any of the other number of creatures who didn't do well with silver) or a demon. Lucifer, perhaps? Clark took another step backward, eyes narrowing dangerously. He didn't take the bottle of water away; instead, Clark kept his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. He took a moment to consider her, then focused his gaze and shifted into x-ray mode. Bones were intact, her body seemed to be running at a normal pace...
"You don't remember where I got this scar?" Clark inquired, vision going back to normal again. "What about when you turned Croat? What about...?" I've had twenty-four years of practice. His mind went back to one of the many sentences that Lois had spit out earlier, brow furrowing thoughtfully as he re-processed her words. Was she suggesting that she was a younger version of the Lois that had passed? Were the seals still dragging people through, even those who had passed in this world? The angry mask on his face wavered, but it didn't quite slip away. Clark shot Lois one final, dark look before he turned his back to her and walked over to the window.
"You don't need to stab yourself," Clark muttered finally. "As much as I would have liked to five minutes ago. You touched it, you pass. You've passed everything, in fact." Clark looked out the window quietly. The bodies of the Croats he'd put down littered the streets, some still burning. Beyond that, all was still. "What have you done in the last twenty-four hours?"