Admittedly, you do not know Clark Kent as well as you would like to. For the few months that you have been working at the Daily Planet since being transferred from Gotham, he has shown you nothing but kindness and understanding, even offering to take you under his wing in order to properly show you the ropes. Truly, you could not ask for more. Which is why it is such a mess — to you, at least — that there is one more thing that you want. To simply be considered his friend.

However, as you have grown up, you have learned the hard way that you must be careful what you wish for. It is like all your desires come true the WRONG way, likely owed to a secret or two dozen that your parents have kept you from discovering. Something about... a metahuman relative in there somewhere, and having the literal gift of prophecy, yada yada yada.

After weeks of wishing and hoping and begging the universe for a sense of connection to your cute coworker, it becomes reality, in ALL the wrong ways. Starting with him stumbling through your doorway with swollen eyes and blackness in his veins.

Krypton poisoning, apparently.

That's... a thing.