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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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004.
OPEN WOUND.

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——

   Lois glowered at Stiles as he slammed the car shut.

"Hey!"

He stilled, "...what?"

    "Watch the paint job, asshole."

"Are you—?" Stiles paused, then scoffed. He rolled his eyes at her issue and mumbled something about there being bigger fish to fry, clicking his seatbelt into place. Ridiculous.

   After a moment of glaring, the girl pulled her eyes away from him and threw her bag into the backseat. It landed with a thump! but she didn't seem to care. Whatever had broken was the least of her worries, right now. They had no idea where Scott had gone to; just that he had been called to the principles office and promptly disappeared. He wasn't answering his messages, and it was starting to worry Lois and Stiles — it had been a while since something like this had happened, and they didn't like where it was headed.

   The keys jingled about in her hands but she eventually got it into the ignition, sucking in a deep breath as she started the car. Lois was still shaken from the bird-fiasco, and she had almost forgotten how to breathe.

    "Right— Scotty boy, Scott...." humming under his breath, Stiles scrolled through his phone contacts, "Scott, Scott, Scott...ah—!"

    "No—!"

     "What—? What do you mean, no?"

    "We can't call Scott,"

    "Uh— and why the hell not?"

    Sighing, Lois shook her head and gripped the wheel tightly as she put the car in drive, and carefully pulled out of the parking lot while reminding herself not to speed. She needed her licence.

    "Because—" she said firmly, "—we're calling Peter, first."

   Stiles groaned. He adored her cousin Peter — he always had done — but this really wasn't the right time to give him a call and chat about their summer. He didn't want to risk wasting any time that they had to tell Scott about what was happening, just so Lois' family could have a catch up.

   Scott still hadn't returned from wherever he had scampered off to in the middle of first period, and considering the shit-show of crazed birds that they had just endured, Stiles thought it was pretty important for the werewolf to know all about the situation.

   There was a feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him that it wasn't a coincidence — the birds, Lydia's dog, the deer crashing into Lois' car. It couldn't have been a coincidence. It seemed like the animals in Beacon Hills were going mad; like the animals all knew something that the teenagers didn't. And if Stiles was right about his suspicions, which he thought was very much the case, it would not have been long before that something was no longer coming, but in their town before they had even realised it. Maybe this something already was in town, maybe it had slipped right under their noses, in which case — he would happily say I told you so! for Lois, Scott and Luna telling him that he was being dramatic.

   Over summer break, they had told him that it was over.

   Stiles had a feeling that it wasn't.

    "No! Call Peter," Lois demanded, her eyes flickering to him as they pulled up at a stop sign. He shook his head.

    "In case you haven't noticed, Lois— uh, we're kinda on a time crunch, here!"

    "Come on—!"

    "Can't we just call him, later?" Thrusting his phone into her face, which she promptly smacked away so that she could see the road, Stiles tried to get his point across. "I love Peter— great kid! Real great, but I have left Scott ten messages and three voicemails, okay? And he has not replied to a single one! None of them!"

    "Scott is going to be fine, alright?" Lois told him, "Let's just call Peter first, and then we can call Scott for as long as you want!"

    "We don't have time—"

    "We have to call him!"

   Stiles threw his head back, "Why?"

    "Because he is my cousin, and we were supposed to have lunch with him, Stiles!" She snapped. Turning her head to glare, Lois gave him the nastiest look she could. "Now, just call him!"

   It was quiet for a moment, until the boy gave in. Nodding and muttering some rude words under his breath, Stiles skipped past Scott's contact with a sigh and found Peter's instead, clicking the ringer. He waited patiently for him to pick up — would he even answer? Surely, this kid would be in class—?

    "Stiles?"

    "Pete! Hey—!"

   Stiles quickly dialled his cheerful tone down, clearing his throat in attempt to sound more calm. It didn't really work, but Lois had to give him props for trying. Even if it did make her cringe. She wished that she was the one making calls while he drove, again.

    "Okay— so, I know it's your first day and all," he said, "But—"

"You guys headed home?" He was pleasantly surprised when Peter had answered for him on the end of the line. Peter's voice was soft as it always was, full of understanding and knowing. "Yeah— I mean, I kinda guessed. Everyone's talking about what happened, y'know. Your dads bumped into me too, told me everything..." he told the story with a laugh of total disbelief, "...but, birds flying through windows? Straight through them? Isn't that a bit weird?"

"Uh— would you believe me if I said I'd seen weirder?"

   Before Peter could answer Stiles' question, Lois pushed his face away from the phone with her free hand. "Petey—! I am so sorry! I can't believe we already ditched you, on your first day. You know we wouldn't have done it unless—"

    "—unless it was serious." She could hear the smile in his tone and sighed, "Don't worry about it, Lo. You got attacked by birds; I think you totally deserve to go home..."

He continued, "I've made some friends, anyway. They're pretty cool— I can sit with them at lunch. It's really no big deal,"

   While Stiles made a gesture and a series of faces to show that he had been right, that calling Peter could have waited until after they had located Scott, Lois rubbed at her face and ignored him.

"But I feel bad..." she sighed.

"Honestly, Lo—" Peter assured her, "—it's okay."

For a fleeting moment, Lois wondered if her father had already told him about her unhealthy habit of disappearing in the middle of the day without a trace, and then being exhausted when she did show up. Peter seemed to be taking it quite well, considering it was his first day and she had already vanished, and the girl could only question why he wasn't remotely angry with at her. He was a nice boy with a calm temperament — a bit sarcastic around the edges thanks to her own doing — so she supposed it wasn't much of a shock that he was patient with her, but he was also usually the one who would listen quietly and think rationally. Lois? Not so much.

   The more that she thought about it, the more it made sense he had taken it so well, whether her father had spoken to him, or not.

"Alright— okay," she eventually huffed as she span the wheel to the left, heading for the hospital in hopes of finding Scott with his mother. It was most likely that Melissa had been the one to pull him out of class, seeing as they had lost him even after they had each vowed to do better in school. "But you gotta let me know if anything happens, okay? I don't care who it is— if anyone messes with you, then they'll have me to deal with. And I can totally drive now, so they better watch out!"

"Nothings going to happen," she could practically hear his eye roll.

    "Well, yeah— hopefully not. But if it does—!"

    "Three girls have asked for my number already, this morning." He said as if for proof, making Stiles whistle lowly. Peter told him to shut up, "Plus, what are you really gonna do, Lo? Run them over?"

"She wouldn't hesitate," Stiles shrugged.

"I just don't want anyone giving you grief," Lois said, "No one messes with you, but me!"

"How sweet and sentimental of you," Peter remarked. There was a slam in the background that sounded like he had shut his locker, and a bell for next period. He was avoiding the police that were still inspecting, "I'll be sure to send any assholes your way. Happy?"

    "Don't worrying about sending them, kid— Lo tends to attract assholes, naturally." With a snort, Stiles slapped his knee. Ignoring the glare that she sent him, yet again, he prided himself as Peter laughed — both of them finding himself incredibly hysterical, in a way that he really wasn't. Lois had no doubt he was talking about her rivalry with Isaac Lahey. "It's like she has a scent, or a call—!"

    "Shut up, Stiles!"

   She had briefly told Peter about her run in with Isaac, minus all of the werewolf parts, so he'd perfectly understood the reference.

   Peter was kind of like her agony aunt.

    "I'm totally going to ignore that disturbing comment, and let you guys get some rest!" Peter chuckled under his breath, but the receiver picked it up loud and clear. "Sounds like you both need it..."

    "Tell me about it," the girl muttered.

    "Oh— and I just saw Lydia!"

    "What did she say?" Stiles asked as he and Lois shared a look.

    "Nothing much. Something about bruises and paint swatches, I think..." he hummed, "She was with this really pretty girl, though. Brunette? Tall? She seemed nice," they both knew who he was talking about, but decided to keep quiet. They couldn't tell him it was Scott's ex-girlfriend for several reasons, the biggest being that they were busy.

    "And Stiles, man! I didn't know you were dating a blonde!"

    "You saw Luna? She's pretty— right?"

   Rolling her eyes, Lois couldn't help but snicker.

   He got excited any time Luna was mentioned.

    "Totally, dude. You're lucky," Peter could hear him beaming, clearly happy of his appraisal. He cleared his throat, "Right, I gotta go."

    "Alright," the girl sang, "Love you, Petey!"

    "Love you too, cuz. Later, Stiles."

   The phone beeped in signal that he had hung up and returned to his first day at school, just as Lois and Stiles had pulled into the parking lot of Beacon Hills Memorial. Lois drove into an available space and came to a slow stop, proud of her parking and smiling smugly. It was pretty good, after all. Her driving instructor had once told her that parking was her strong point in driving, and Lois definitely had to agree.

    "I forget you guys are cousins..." Stiles spoke more to himself than to Lois, brows furrowed as he scrolled through his contacts in search of Scott. "He's a lot cooler than you are, right? I mean— the kid rides a motorbike—!"

    "I have a car!"

    "Yeah— a car that has a deer half through it!"

    "Just call Scott— okay?" She said, "I'm bored of hearing how much you prefer my cousin."

   Laughing under his breath, much like a child, Stiles clicked on the teen wolf's name and waiting as the phone rang. The two of them sat patiently inside of Lois' rental car, listening to the ring.

    "Hello?"

    "We've got problems."

    "We got a serious problem at school," Stiles repeated Lois' words with a firm nod. He instantly launched into their list of issues and started to check them off on his fingers; there was probably more of them, than he had hands. "Miss Blake's class—"

    "Hey— can you guys tell me about it, later?"

   Stiles seemed stunned at the question, "Well— no. Not really, Scott! I'm pretty sure this qualifies for immediate discussion!"

     "Okay..." Scott sighed, "Alright— then meet me at Derek's."

    "Derek's house?" Startled, Lois spoke. She wanted to know how he had ended up at the old Hale house, seeing as she was pretty sure he was meant to be in biology. No matter how hard she tried to find a reason, she just didn't understand how he had left class and ended up there. "As in, Derek? What the hell are you doing at Derek's house? Scott, where have you—?"

   He cut them off, again.

    "Just meet us here, okay?" The boy told them, leaving no room for discussion as he hung up the phone. Stiles blinked down at the device with a deep set frown.

"Okay— he did not just hang up on us!"

"No, he definitely did."

"I'm going to kick his—!"

"No, you're not!" Lois scoffed, "You couldn't kick a tree."

Stiles grumbled, "Your lack of faith in me is disturbing..."

   Having heard the exact phrase a million times before, Lois chose to ignore it. She turned her keys in the ignition and started up the car, putting it into reverse and slowly backing out of the space that she had so wonderfully parked in — they hadn't needed it, in the end, and time could have been saved if Scott had just answered his calls and told them he was with Derek Hale. The last thing that she had planned on doing today was heading to Derek's house in order to find her friend, who had left class and surprisingly school in general, but there she was: heading to Derek's.

• • •

    "Yeah, I see it. It's two bands— right?"

   Although confused with how Derek was able to see the ink that sat under Scott's skin, healed over, Lois decided to say nothing.

    "Yeah..." Scott told him, "Do you think you can do it?"

   He didn't answer, straight away.

   Lois took this time to vaguely reflect on her day, which had been very different to how she had pictured. First, birds had soared into her classroom and nearly bludgeoned them all, then Scott McCall had disappeared — only for them to find him at the Hale house, and not anywhere that involved reading and writing.

   So far, the whole working harder agreement was going terribly.

   She briefly wondered why they had even made the agreement, in the first place. Skipping classes had become a habit, and Lois assumed teachers were more surprised when they showed up.

    "What does it mean?" Derek finally looked at the young omega and not at his bicep, curiosity in his red eyes.

    "I don't know..." he said honestly — it was what he had told Lois and Stiles the first time he had shown them his drawing of it, and the answer ceased to change. "It's just something I traced with my fingers, I guess."

They watched him trace the design into the dust that coated the floor, making two perfect rings with his forefingers. Once they had connected at the top, he let out a deep sigh. Lois would have been lying if she had said that the idea hadn't crossed her mind — if she said she hadn't wondered why Scott had wanted this tattoo in particular. Tattoos were sentimental, or they weren't, and it wasn't wrong to have a tattoo that meant nothing. They were art. But, it was a strange one: Scott had drawn that tattoo himself, and while he said it had no meaning, Lois had a sure feeling that there was a reason why he was getting it. Like he needed it.

The alpha hummed, "Why's this so important to you?"

"Do you know what the word tattoo means?"

"To mark something," Stiles pitched in, acting all smart. Lois wondered how he knew that, but assumed it was the same reason that Scott knew it.

"Well, that's in tahitian." Scott said, "In samoan, it means—"

"—open wound..." Her tone was light, barely above a whisper, but everyone in the room had heard her. Lois cleared her throat.

Nodding slowly, Scott peered up at her. "Yeah... how'd you know that?"

She shrugged.

"Just something I heard, once."

"Well, I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned eighteen." He returned to his anecdote, staring at the circles he had drawn with a thoughtful expression. Scott smiled at it, "I always wanted one. I just decided to get it, now— to make it kind of a reward."

"For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison, all summer." Scott's words resonated with them all, and they suddenly understood. This was his way of priding himself on getting through his heartbreak. It was a means of showing that he had powered through; Scott had gotten through the pain, the sadness, and he had come out the other side alive. He wanted an emblem to remember it, and that made sense. "Even when I really wanted to." He chuckled, "Even when it was so hard not to sometimes, I was trying to give her the space she wants."

He continued, "Going four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh— kinda like..."

"Like an open wound," Stiles supplied.

"Yeah..."'

After another palpable silence, Derek reached behind him for a metal canister. Lois' eyes widened when she realised what it was, but she kept her composure calm. Was this a good idea...?

    "The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt, before." Derek told him as bluntly as ever.

    "Ah—" Stiles was already jittery, "—that's great."

   Only contemplating for a moment, Scott knew his answer.

    "Okay..." he nodded, "Do it."

   When the canister lit and became a blowtorch, however, Scott's face paled. Stiles jumped back and nearly bumped into Lois, who was less fazed by the other two but still unsettled by the flame as it grew larger. She wondered how Derek Hale had gotten his hands on a blowtorch, but he wasn't really a suspect in his sister's murder case, anymore. It hadn't been solved, nor had it gone cold, but no one was ready and waiting to send him down, at least.

    "Oh— wow. That's, uh...that's a lot for me," was all that Stiles really managed to mutter before he pointed at the door, "So, I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside—"

    "Nope—" Derek stopped him, "You can help hold him down."

   Lois squinted, "Who made you a qualified tattooist?"

   He rolled his eyes and sent her a pointed stare. She knew what it had meant — it told her that she should shut up and help hold Scott down while he most definitely freaked out when the flame would touch his skin. Lois huffed, but she did as she was told and followed Stiles. Instead of his right, she stood on Scott's left and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

   Derek brought the flame closer, and the teenagers flinched back. Scott was shaking in his seat and Stiles was close to fainting.

   Only Lois was just about keeping it together. Just about.

    "Oh, my god—!"

    "Shut up, Stiles! He's doing it!"

    "Hold him!"

    "Is this a good idea—?"

   Eventually the screams from Scott died down when he passed out from the pain, and Stiles' screams had quietened almost in synchronisation with Scott's. Although, Lois had managed to keep a level-head during the procedure — she had seen a lot at this point, including dead bodies, half wolves, kanima cocoons. She had seen a lot of gross stuff, so the sight of burning flesh trying to heal itself wasn't too bad. Plus, it had been plenty easier to handle Scott when he had fallen unconscious. After that, the process had gone rather quickly, and now Lois was dabbing at Scott's forehead free of sweat with a tissue from her purse while Stiles and Derek caught their breaths from prior events.

   His eyes flickered before he fully woke, and Lois gently pulled the tissue away, smiling softly when his lashes fluttered open. Scott looked confused and she giggled.

    "Hi there, sleepy-pants."

    "Lois—?" Scott hummed, smiling. "It worked?"

    "Check it out," Lois nodded at his arm, grinning when he pulled up his sleep and beamed. "Pretty badass, huh?"

    "Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles remarked from the sidelines. Walking over to the pair and wiping his brow, he gave Scott a hand up from his seat and clapped him on the back, "Really permanent."

    "Yeah— I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us... everything just changes so fast," Scott said as the trio made for the door to leave the Hale house. They had thanked Derek for his artistry, and Lois had scrutinised the hygiene rating he would get for this place. Shrugging, Scott tried to find the right words, "Everything's so, uh— ephemeral."

   Lois smiled at his word of the day, sending him a wink.

    "Studying for the PSATs?"

    "Yep."

   Stiles nodded, "Nice."

   On their way out, Scott glanced at the door with a frown. She stopped with him, and so did Stiles, and they all stared at the door as if waiting for it to say something. Lois didn't really know why.

    "You painted the door," the omega turned to Derek, "Why'd you paint the door?"

    "It's an abandoned house," Lois realised.

   Instead of answering them, Derek said, "Go home, Scott."

    "And why only one side...?"

    "Scott—!"

   But Scott had already started clawing at the door. The paint scratched off in flecks and chunks, and Lois and Stiles covered their eyes in case any of it hit their faces.

   Together, they waited until the majority of the paint had fully flaked off, and frowned at what they found underneath it. There was a logo of some sort, painted in black, proudly stamped onto Derek's door. It was angular and resembled an emblem that she had seen in history, but it had it differences. In fact, they hadn't ever seen a logo like that, before — neither of the teenagers had recognised it, unable to place it, and instead turned to look at Derek with accusing eyes. Scott followed in tow.

    "The birds at school, and the deer last night— just like the night I got trampled by the deer when I got bit by the alpha..." his voice was a low murmur as he pieced it all together, and Scott found himself glaring at Derek with amber eyes, "How many are there?"

    "A pack of them," the man gave in, "An alpha pack."

    "All of them?" Stiles was confused, as was Lois, as he stared between the two werewolves, "How does that even work?"

    "I hear there's some kind of a leader," Derek was reluctant to tell them about it, but he soon gave in when he realised that they wouldn't leave until he did. "He's called Deucalion. We know they have Boyd and Erica — Peter, Isaac, and I have been looking for him, for the last four months."

    "They have Boyd and Erica?" Lois cursed when he nodded.

    "Let's say you find them," Scott hypothesised, "How do you deal with an alpha pack?"

    "With all the help, I can get."

   That was exactly what they hadn't wanted to hear.

   They were supposed to be at school.

    Before anything else could he said, another voice popped into the equation. It was a voice that took Lois aback, heart thumping.

    "Where is she?"

    The group turned to see Isaac Lahey, half asleep and still in the state between REM and awakeness, but Isaac Lahey nonetheless. He looked good — similar to how Lois had remembered, and she might have gone as far to say that he looked even better than he had before summer break. Well, that was if he hadn't looked like he had been thrown into traffic and left to die. Actually— Isaac was looking pretty worse for wear; Lois wondered what has happened to him, and how they hadn't noticed him before.

    "Where's the girl?" He repeated.

   Lois took a step back and raised her hands in surrender when the boys turned to look at her questioningly. She had no idea what he was on about; it couldn't have been her.

    Derek narrowed his eyes, "What girl—?"

    "Wait— Lois?"

   Isaac hadn't expected to see her. Part of him was convinced that he was imagining it.

   Awkwardly, she wiggled her fingers in a wave.

    "Hi, Isaac."

——

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