Clark chose to ignore her miniature rant about his language. If he cared about the severity of the words that came out of his mouth, he wouldn't have been cussing in the first place. Clark didn't care. He didn't care about a lot of things anymore, his language being one of the smaller things on that massive list. "You don't remember the apocalypse?" Clark pressed, fingers gripping at the wooden panel of the window. "The Croatoan virus?" He tensed visibly, shoulders hunching together tightly. "My fight with Lucifer?" That last question hung in the air for a long moment, Clark unintentionally reaching up to run his fingers over the scar sketched into his features. He turned around again, anger dancing in his eyes. He didn't like this. Someone out there was fucking with him and Clark didn't want anything to do with it.
"What about our marriage? What about the b -" Clark shook his head, seething. He wasn't about to bring that up. Clark would never talk about that again. Resisting the urge to break something, Clark clenched his jaw tightly and tried not to think about it. The thing of it was, he couldn't not think about it. It was part of what he thought about all the time, whether he wanted to or not. Clark had spent ages wishing he could scrub his mind clean of the memories that haunted him - especially those memories. He couldn't though; his mistakes were embedded into his mind permanently. There was no forgetting. He didn't deserve to forget. "You don't remember," Clark muttered, answering for Lois before she had the chance to do so herself. "Then you're not her. You're not the Lois I lost." Clark looked her over, uncertain as to whether or not he was supposed to be kicking her out, protecting her, or grilling her for more information. She wasn't his Lois, no, but he was beginning to feel certain that she was a Lois. From another world? From the past, even? She had claimed to be younger...
Clark noticed that she hadn't put the knife down. Did she really think she could stick him with that? Clark couldn't even muster up an eyeroll. He simply raised his brows, shrugged, and walked over to his bed. Flopping down on it, he pointed off to one of the empty chairs and gestured for Lois to take a seat. "Let's get this straight: you're from the past, right? Do you know anything about seals and apocalypse at all?" Maybe she had been dragged here straight from Metropolis itself. If the seals were starting up again, it'd make sense if she were.