Season 7, based on a plot arc by Steven DeKnight
Disclaimer: These characters belong to the CW and DC Comics, not to me.
"Miss Lane has sustained a blow to the head."
The doctor, a tall, angular man in his fifties, spoke solemnly to Lex over Lois. Lex nodded, looking just as serious.
"I take it that's what caused the amnesia?"
The doctor brushed his hand through his thinning silver hair. "Perhaps," he said. "It's difficult to say for certain. Amnesia is relatively rare, and every case is different." He looked down at Lois. "Do you have any memory at all of what you were doing in the woods, Miss Lane?"
Lois closed her eyes, trying to remember. But before the moment when she'd opened her eyes in the sun-dappled forest, everything was darkness.
"No," she said at last, opening her eyes and looking up at the doctor. "I have no idea."
"Probably chasing a story," Lex said, smiling at her.
She blinked. "A story?"
"You're a journalist, Lois. You write for the Inquisitor." At her puzzled look, he added, "That's a newspaper in Metropolis."
Lois frowned. Something about that didn't sound quite right. But as she tried to catch onto the thought, it faded away like mist. She sighed, annoyed by her inability to remember.
"I guess that makes as much sense as anything." She tried to imagine herself out in the woods, running down a lead on a story, and the image seemed to fit somehow.
That's me, she thought, trying the name and the occupation on for size. Lois Lane, journalist.
"I don't think an MRI is necessary," the doctor said to Lex, "but it would be best for her to take it very easy. She should probably stay here for a few days."
Lois frowned. She didn't like the idea of staying in this cold, formal castle. Its walls were lined with weapons, its walls were gray stone, its ceilings were high, and somehow it gave off an aura of deliberate intimidation. This place is so totally not me.
Which was a ridiculous thought, because she had absolutely no way of knowing what was her and what wasn't.
Even so, she objected. "I want to go home."
Lex's lips curved. "You don't even know where home is, Lois."
"No, but you do. Earlier, you told me we're friends."
We're friends, he'd assured her in the car. We've known each other for a long time. You can trust me, I promise.
She had no reason to disbelieve him, but she seemed to be naturally wary, because she found she didn't entirely trust him. Something about the way he'd stared at her on the road, the way he hadn't spoken until she'd told him her name, niggled at the back of her mind. She supposed he'd been shocked by her appearance, but she wasn't sure that accounted for his startled expression when she told him her name.
But there was no doubt that Lex seemed very concerned for her welfare. He'd brought her to his enormous home, insisted she lie down on the soft leather couch in his study, and watched over her himself until the doctor arrived.
At her statement that they were friends, Lex 's smile broadened. He had a warm, kind smile that didn't quite reach his gray eyes, and something about that smile made her stomach melt a bit. Despite the premature baldness, she realized, he was a very attractive guy.
"Yes," he said. "You live in an apartment over the Talon, an old movie theater that used to be a movie house. Does that sound familiar?"
She concentrated, but nothing in her mind came into focus. "No," she answered with a sigh.
Lex patted her shoulder, and she felt a tingle run through her at the touch of his hand. "It's all right," he told her. "I'm sure it will all come back eventually."
She sighed again. Her head throbbed, and her muscles ached, and she was very, very tired. But most disturbing was the dark void where her memories ought to be.
"I hope you're right," she answered softly.
Read Chapter 3 here.