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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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003.
SEARCH HARDER,
SHERLOCK.

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——

Lois couldn't pull the smile from her face as she watched Stiles and Scott do their routine handshake with the boy, the same one that they had made when they were fourteen and Scott had met him for the first time.

"What are you doing here, man?" Stiles grinned after the final high five had been smacked. "It's been forever—!"

"I go to school here, now." He told them happily, adjusting his grip on the helmet in his hand. "My mom and dad wanted to move, and next thing I know I'm packing for Beacon Hills!"

Scott peered at Lois, "How long have you known?"

"All summer!" She announced, waving her hands. "Surprise!"

   Peter grinned, wrapping an arm around her shoulder again. He pulled her into him and gave her a squeeze, happy to be reunited with the short brunette. It had been a long time since they'd seen each other, perhaps up to a year of time apart, and he had grown quite a lot in that time — more than Lois had been expecting him to, at least — and she no longer reached his brows. Now, her head was at his nose and she didn't fail to notice it.

    "Hey— when did you grow, so much?" She interrogated, a pout on her lips. He was still a bit shorter than Stiles and Scott, but not by much anymore. Peter used to be a squirt, just like she had been her whole life. "Why does everyone grow apart from me? How is that remotely fair?"

   The three boys rolled their eyes as the bell rang, watching other students start gravitating through the halls. Peter pulled out his timetable from his bag and looked down at it, muttering to himself as he figured out what class he had first and where. Lois peered over his shoulder and scanned the paper, frowning when he was going to be headed to woodwork while she was off to English with Scott and Stiles. She had been hoping to have at least one lesson with him (he was a very smart sophomore and took some junior classes) but apparently the first lesson of their junior school year simply wasn't going to be it.

   Noticing her pout, Peter chuckled.

   He gave her one last squeeze and glanced at his locker number, trying to remember the dial so that he didn't get lost on his way. It wouldn't have made a good start to the year, he didn't think.

    "I'll see you at lunch?" He rose a brow, though he hadn't even needed to ask. They nodded blissfully.

    "See you guys, then!"

   They watched as he left with a wave, turning on their heel at the same time and heading down the hall to English. By the time that Allison and Lydia had arrived (Luna being in History), Scott, Stiles and Lois were already seated in a row of three. Lydia immediately headed to the two seats in front of Lois, managing to grab the first before any other student. However, when Allison went for the other desk, a boy with a skateboard swooped in and threw his stuff down. She froze, looking at her the two girls for help, but all that they could do was smile guiltily. Being that it wasn't there fault she hadn't been able to grab the desk, Allison shook her head gently and observed the class, eyes searching for an empty seat.

   When she found one, she wasn't victorious.

   Lois cringed, watching as Allison sucked in a breath and made her way to the only seat available: the desk in front of Scott. He hummed, twiddling with his thumbs, acting oblivious.

   Allison's awkwardly stretched out a hand, pointing at the desk with a self-conscious smile. "Is anyone sitting...?"

    "No—!"

   Scott shook his head back and forth, gesturing for her to take the seat. She placed her books down and he couldn't find it within himself to shut up, instead rambling in a panic. He hadn't really expected to see her so many times in the two days that she had returned, "No, no. It's all you. All yours— totally vacant!"

   He turned to glanced at Stiles and Lois — whom sat in the same row, the two seats on his left — both of them smiling sarcastically at the awkward interaction. Stiles sent him a thumbs up, squinting his eyes, while Lois merely shook her head in plenty of second-hand embarrassment. Pouting, Scott shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the front of the classroom, wondering whether he had made as much a fool of himself as he had thought.

   Turning away from her friend who wallowed in self-pity, Lois glanced down at her phone as it vibrated upon her desk. She sighed, picked it up and unlocked it, frowning when multiple other phones began to beep throughout the classroom.

   She quirked a brow as she began to read the message, though a voice interrupted.

    "The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds and the tranquil waterway, leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness."

   Lois pursed her lips, staring between the text and the woman who had walked in, eyes narrowed as her heels clicked. She had spoken the exact words that had been sent through their phones, and Lois had a strong feeling that it wasn't going to have been a coincidence. Glancing at Stiles uncertainly, the girl continued to listen to what their teacher had to say.

    "This is the last line to the first book we are going to read." She spoke with a proud smile, lifting up her cell phone. "It is also the last text you will receive in this class. Phones off, everyone."

    "Heart of Darkness..." Lois mumbled, "Clever."

   Their new teacher nodded her head, having heard her speak from a mile away. She smiled at the girl and glanced down at her sheet of paper with names and pictures of the students, a seating plan that she had prepared but didn't feel the need to put to use now that they were all sat in front of her.

    "Correct, Miss—" she frowned down the paper.

    "—Lois Lane? Is that a prank?"

   Lois smiled tightly, "I wish."

    "Oh—!" Slightly embarrassed by what she had said, the woman cleared her throat. She forced a smile and nodded stiffly, "Well, yes. You'd be right, Lois. By Jospeh Conrad— you've read it?"

    "I did a lot of summer reading," the girl shrugged.

   The teacher appreciated the words with a hum, heading towards the board to start them off on their first tasks and write up her name. Lois flicked to the page number written up, puckering her lips as she watched each number get higher as she flicked through the sheets, and smiling in satisfaction when she eventually found the right one. She took no time in beginning to jot down notes and completing the questions provided, scribbling away the answers that she already knew from reading the book over summer — it was a nice way to start the school year, for Lois.

   It wasn't long until the classroom was silent, full of teenagers working away. Thought it hadn't lasted more than ten minutes before the principal walked in, whispering to Miss Blake.

   She seemed hesitant to call on the boy but eventually sighed.

    "Mr McCall?"

   The teen quickly hid the note in his hands, looking up at her with wide eyes. When he realised it wasn't about the note and that she had she signalled him outside, he nodded and collected all of his items. He threw his books into his bad and left his desk, a confused expression sent his way by Lois and Stiles.

   He returned it, easily.

   Scott had no idea what was happening, either.

While Miss Blake had taken Scott outside, Stiles stood up at his desk to tap Lydia in the shoulders. The strawberry blonde turned and rose a brow. She wondered why he was trying to catch her attention in the middle of class.

"Hey, Lydia—!" he quietened his voice when Miss Blake soon returned, pursing his lips and pointing to her leg. "What is that?"

Lois looked away from her notebook, following his line of sight and frowning at the bandaid on her friend's ankle. She hadn't noticed it earlier that morning, "Is that from the accident?"

"No," Lydia said, "Prada bit me."

"Your dog?"

The two girls rolled their eyes at his comment.

"No, my designer handbag." She acted coy, only to scoff and shake her head. "Yes— my dog."

Stiles mocked a laugh at Lydia's remark, his face then dropping dramatically. He stared at the bandaid again, humming to himself as he thought about the situation. Noticing his thinking face, Lois sighed and put her pen down, leaning closer to the duo, all ears.

"Has it ever bitten you, before?"

Looking down at her work and huffing, Lydia shook her head.

"Okay—" he waved his hand in thought, "What if it's, like, the same thing as the deer? You know, like— how animals start acting weird right before an earthquake, or something?"

"Meaning, what—?" Lois furrowed her brows as she put some thought into his words. He really hadn't let the deer thing go, no matter how many times she told him to. Sometimes she wondered whether her best friend wanted something supernatural to happen them, so badly that it consumed any coherent train of thought he had and polluting it to nothing but werewolves and hunters, and anything else dangerous. "There's going to be an earthquake?"

"Or, something." Stoles corrected her, "I just— maybe it means something's coming." He paused uncertainly, "Something bad."

Lydia turned in her seat to face Lois, seeming hesitant to agree until she took in her friend's expression. Lois looked torn, and if she was torn, that meant that Stiles had a point. As much as she didn't want to believe that something else was coming, it was hard not to listen to his theories. He was smart, and he had been right about Matt controlling the kanima; they needed to listen.

"It was a deer and a dog..." Lydia eventually gave in to the idea. She chewed on her cheek and tapped her pen against her desk, as she tried to remember what they had said to her once, "What's that thing you two say about threes?"

Lois answered, "Once, twice—"

She was interrupted by a bird hitting the window she sat next to, jumping back in her seat at the suddenness of it all. Lois frowned and looked away from the blood splatter upon the glass, a chill running down her spine. Stiles sat up in his seat and stared at the scene with narrowed eyes. His gaze flickered to Miss Blake, who had seemed just as stunned as her students did. The teacher slowly placed down the chalk in her hand and left the board, moving to the window and looking out to the sky beyond. She watched her students uncertainly. Her vision had barely left the window for a second before another bird had hit the glass. Then another, and another, until one went straight through it.

"Get down—! Everyone down!"

Lois let out a panicked scream when one crow sliced her face, a sharp pain passing through her cheek. She immediately threw herself to the ground, unable to breathe. It was like that night.

   It was so like that night, that it was haunting.

Noticing her distress, Stiles batted away the birds near his head and launched himself towards her, taking his desk down with him. He pulled her into his chest and covered her head, using his spare hand to find Lydia's arm and tug her towards them — he wanted to keep both girls as protected as he could.

The sound of shattering glass made Lois' blood run cold. She continued to scream, pushing her face into her best friends chest until she was smothered by the fabric of his shirt. Lois was hardly able to hear the cries of Miss Blake for them to keep down, her heart beat was too loud to register anything but the panic flowing through her veins. She choked on tears as she remembered the alarms, and the burning pain in her arm, and the endless smoke.

"Get down!" The teacher shrieked once again as she sheltered a student's head, "Get down! Now— down!"

Lois wasn't sure how much time had passed when the squawks of birds and the screams of student had dulled. She felt cold when Stiles gently pulled away from her, peering over the top of his desk to see if the hysteria had stopped.

   He sighed in relief.

Hoisting herself from the ground, Allison stumbled to her feet and glanced around the room, a breath passing her lips. She took a moment to collect herself and then quickly made way towards her friends and helped Lydia up, noticing the way that Lois' bones were trembling beneath her skin. She sent Stiles a worried look to which the boy nodded, gently placing his palms to Lois' biceps and regaining her attention. Her head snapped up and she sucked in a breath. On instinct, her fists flew out to clutch onto his shirt. Stiles hushed her quietly, rubbing her shoulder and carefully wrapping his arms around her.

With a sigh, Lois fell into his comfort and embrace. She took in another shaky breath of aid, feeling her lungs expand and deflate, then repeated it. Her best friend held her close.

"It's alright," Stiles whispered, "He's not here."

Lois nodded slowly, peering up at the two girls with teary eyes.

"Then, who is?"

• • •

"Are you sure you're alright?"

    "I'm fine, dad."

   Matthew Lane pressed on at his daughter, "If you want to head home—"

"Dad, I'm okay." Lois nodded her head a few times too many, hiding her trembling fingers by interlocking her hands together. She placed them in her lap and forced a smile. She tried to assure him that he didn't need to worry, "I'm perfectly fine."

He sighed, "Your cheek—"

"—will probably bleed again, at some point in my life."

Mathew pursed his lips and shook his head. He knew that his daughter was strong, but when she was caught in a crossfire of birds and learning, he couldn't help but worry. The skin on her cheeks was tinted pink, her face paler than it usually was, and he had immediately noticed the tear tracks through her makeup. It didn't take a genius to know that she wasn't as okay as she made out to be, and that really hurt his heart.

"Lois, something is happening— isn't it?" He frowned, his forehead creased.

She didn't say anything, instead reaching out to hold his hand and squeezing it tightly. Lois let out a shaky breath and leaned into him, her head against rested his chest.

"I'm not ready for this..." She whispered softly. Her father gently rubbed her back and nodded, pressing a loving kiss the top of her head. "I thought that this year would be easier, dad— it was supposed to be normal, again, but I don't think it is. I don't know what's going on— with the car, and with all of the birds—!"

"It's okay..." He cooed, "...it's going to be okay."

After a minute of composing herself, Lois eventually leaned back and wiped at her teary face. Matthew Lane surveyed her one last time, more than ready to wrap his daughter up in bubble wrap, take the day off of work and bring her home so that she couldn't get hurt anymore, and chewed on the inside of his cheek. He knew that she wouldn't want to leave, but he couldn't stop himself from asking her again. He just wanted to be sure.

"Do you really want to stay at school?" The man sighed heavily when she nodded her head, "Sweetheart, you look exhausted."

She sniffled, "It just reminded me of that night at the station, is all." Lois explained quietly, cringing at the memories of that night, "All of the windows and glass, and the bullets... made me think of Matt, you know?"

He nodded in understanding.

   No matter how much Lois thought that she had gotten over that night she had been held at gun point and gained a bullet wound, despite how convinced she was that it hadn't traumatised her in the slightest, she always somehow found it coming back to haunt her whenever it wanted to. The memories didn't plague her often, but they were still there. Sat in the back of her mind and waiting to be set free. While she held no hard feelings towards the Argents for producing the gunfire and injuring her in the process — well apart from Gerard, who she had many hard feeling for — Lois still had hard feelings towards Matt, even if he was dead. It was mostly his fault for making another teenage boy kill people without knowing.

If she were honest, Lois felt that her hard feelings were valid.

"But, I'm okay—" the girl put on a brave face, "Really."

   He didn't get a chance to argue, Noah walking up behind him and tapping his shoulder. Matthew smiled at his friend and they walked off to discuss the events, after Noah patted Lois' arm.

    "I can't get ahold of Scott."

   She frowned as Stiles' words, the boy sitting on the desk right next to her.

    "Do you know where he went?" Lois queried. He shook his head and she groaned, rubbing a hand over her face as she thought about what to do. Well, there wasn't too much thinking involved can really — she knew what they had to do. They did it often enough, "Time to hunt down a werewolf."

   The boy grinned, to which she rolled her eyes. It was as though he hadn't even been in the room when they had been attacked by dying birds, his attitude contrasting the feathers in his hair and the scratch on his forehead. But that was Stiles, for you.

   Always searching.

——

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