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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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006.
SPEAK OF THE DEVIL
AND HE SHALL APPEAR.
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——

   Lois woke up to damp clothes, from the night before.

   She cringed. She didn't know why they were wet, but the girl did note that they stuck to her skin uncomfortably. How had she slept in clothes that were damp? It was hardly nightwear, thats for sure.

   Come to think of it, Lois wasn't sure what had happened last night. While she could vaguely recall leaving the party in a huff, she wasn't really sure how she had gotten home. There was no memory of walking, no one had offered her a ride, and she was certain that the rest of the pack had already left by the time she had decided to leave the place and do her own thing. But — what had she been doing? Telling by the open books on the floor beside her bed, Lois hadn't come home and finished her homework. Not a single piece was completed, which annoyed her. She'd have to try and finish it in homeroom, or pray she had a free period some time over the course of the morning.

   It played on her mind for a short while. She entertained a couple of ideas, namely crashing as soon as she got home or chatting to her father about the case of the birds, but none of them rang a bell. A mystery, it seemed to be. How strange.

   Nonetheless, Lois had gotten up and showered. Smelling good was a priority, especially when she had slept in last night's clothes and they smelt particularly awful. Again, she found herself trying to figure out what had happened, why her father wasn't playing his usual music, why Stiles had yet to irritate her. None of it seemed normal — something didn't fit. As if she'd lost a puzzle piece.

   Yawning, she made her way out of the bathroom with a towel on her head and another around her body, tucked beneath her armpit. The house was quiet and there was no noise, which she found strange. Not even the radio — her father would alway play the radio in the mornings, and she vaguely wondered where he was. If there was no radio, then there was no Matthew Lane. It must have been an early morning for him, she assumed. There was no other reason that he would be gone.

   As Lois was about to peak out of her window and see if Stiles was up, her phone rang. She yawned loudly and reached for it.

NOW CALLING
STILES

    "Speak of the devil," she hummed, "And he shall appear."

   Another second passed until Lois answered the call, bringing the phone to her ear and passing another yawn.

    "Stiles, why are you calling me at—?"

    "Where the hell are you?"

   Her nose scrunched, "What?"

    "Where are you, Lo?" Stiles repeated; "You didn't wake up to me shouting your freaking name this morning, so I left without you. I mean— I assumed you'd make it in yourself, but Lydia said you didn't show up for homeroom and you sure as hell weren't in first period!"

    "Wait—!" Lois paled, "I missed homeroom? And first period?"

    "Uh— yeah!"

   The girl shot up from her bed and put her phone on speaker, throwing it to the side as she rushed to her wardrobe. Lois threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt that she stole from Scott, cursing loudly all the while. How hadn't she woken up? Stiles doesn't ever let her oversleep, and her father would have made sure that she was awake — what had happened? Not only had Lois woken up in damp clothes from Heather's party, but she had missed classes and likely any information the pack had discovered, since. Peter was bound to be bummed that she wasn't in, again.

"How long are you gonna take?" Stiles huffed, "Jeez, Lo—"

"I'm trying my best!"

   Observing her outfit for only a second, Lois pushed herself in front if the mirror and sighed. She threw on a lick of mascara to try and make herself look more alive — she was exhausted — it didn't really work, but the girl went with it. She didn't have much of a choice, really.

    "Okay— wet hair? Wet hair! Uh—" she threw it up into a bun on the top of her head and forced a smile to herself, "It'll do."

    "You need to get here. Derek's here, apparently there's news on Isaac."

    "Isaac?" Lois echoed as she spritzed on some perfume. She was suddenly more interested in the conversation. Derek was on his way into the school? It was strange — but it meant that if she had missed something, then at least the others were still waiting to hear about it too. "What about Isaac? Did something happen?"

    "Peter did a weird alpha thingy—? Something about his memories," he tried to recall, "I don't know!"

    "Alpha thing? But Peter's not an alpha, anymore..."

Peter Hale hadn't been the alpha in months. They had been there when Derek had sliced his throat and stolen his glowing red eyes, and they had watched the man die. That had been months ago.

Lois could distinctly remember the taste of vomit as it rose up her throat, seeing the blood splatter. Peter had been left with no vocal chords — she was sure of it — and he had been pretty damn dead. More dead than dead, actually. There had been no doubt in their minds that they had gotten rid of Peter Hale for good, that night, but there they were: relying on one very much alive Peter Hale to help them find Erica and Boyd.

"Derek said Peter has to do it," Stiles said. She could practically him biting his nails in anticipation, it was getting to him. "Do you think it was dangerous? Sounds dangerous."

    "Derek Hale thinks he created danger, Stiles." Kicking on her shoes and grabbing her back, Lois made for the door. She nearly forgot the boy she had left on speaker and quickly rushed back to grab her phone, "If he can't do it, then it has to be dangerous."

    "Maybe Isaac's dead, that'd be good— right?"

   She rolled her eyes, "Totally."

Lois nearly fell down the stairs as she rushed down them, and had to tell Stiles to shut up when he snickered at the commotion.

"Okay— I'm getting in the car, now."

"Lois is on her way!"

She heard a plethora of sounds, all from a member of the group and seemingly impressed that she was actually coming in. Perhaps Lois would have felt embarrassed if it was the first time.

"Hey, what happened to you last night?" Stiles finally asked what had been on his mind since the night before. She had vanished by the time he and Luna finally came downstairs, and Scott said he lost her after speaking to Allison and Lydia. They all felt guilty, but couldn't find her. "I think we lost you at the party. I mean, we all tried to give you a call but none of us could reach you, so where'd you go?"

At the question, Lois drew a blank.

She didn't know how to answer that; she had no idea.

Lois didn't know where she had gone, or what had happened. All she vaguely remembered was Beacon Hills preserve.

But something told her that wasn't a very good answer, and Lois was suddenly at a loss for words. It was there — it was at the very back of her head, but she couldn't get it out. As though a part of her kept the memory locked away.

"Oh— you know," she said, "I walked home."

    "You walked home?"

    "How else was I gonna get home?"

   Humming, the boy accepted her answer; "You could have waited!"

    "I could have waited?" Lois echoed with a loud laugh. Small parts of the night were coming back slowly, and she definitely remembered where Stiles and Luna had been during most of Heather's birthday party — upstairs, doing things that she didn't particularly want to think about. It made her cringe. 

   Tapping her hands on the wheel, Lois scoffed again. He made out that she hadn't been alone, already. If she had waited then she would have been on her own for who knew how long! Going home had been her best decision and she was glad that she had taken it, now that some of the night was coming back to her. While Lois wasn't angry anymore, she figured that she must have been very angry the night prior. Why else would she have stormed off? It made no sense. She spoke, "I wasn't gonna hang around while you and Luna got busy upstairs, was I?"

   Truthfully, Lois felt a bit bad for embarrassing him. She knew that his face would be crimson, but ever the good sport, Stiles had snorted, "That's where you went? To get busy with someone? Was it—?"

    "Bye, Stiles!"

    "But you're not—?"

    "I'll be there soon, asshole! Now, I said bye!"

   With a beep, the phone line went dead. A breath of relief passed Lois' lips; she had know what he was going to say.

   Her and Isaac seemed to be the butt of the joke, lately.

   While their fake date was an uncomfortable topic, Stiles and Scott (and her cousin, Peter) still managed to get a kick out of the messy sutuation she had found herself in. Joking about Matt was out of line — which they never did, out of respect — but Isaac Lahey was sometimes too funny, to not jab at. Lois still didn't know why she had picked him in her moment of panic, although it had certainly caught up with her when the fake date ended up being a tactic to try and kill her. That was when Derek had been under the impression that Lois Lane was the kanima's master, and his beta's had blindly followed. The memory was tainted with the context of that night, but she had to admit... spending her night at the rave with Isaac Lahey hadn't been all too bad.

   (Minus the kanima, of course.)

   Her cheeks warmed. Lois quickly shook her head and took in a deep breath as she reached Beacon Hills High. There was no time to think about fake-dating Isaac when there was clearly much that she had missed.

   After pulling into a parking space, the girl jumped out of her temporary car and rushed towards the library to meet the others.

   Hopefully no teacher would notice her tardiness.

• • •

    "I can't believe I got three days of lunch detentions!"

    "You did miss homeroom," Scott shrugged gently, "And you weren't in first period, either."

    "Thanks, Scotty boy—" she drawled out, "—I had no idea."

Said boy rolled his eyes but kept a soft smile, turning away from Lois' complaints about her punishment for being so late to school that she had missed the first two — almost three! — hours. Scott had wondered what had her so late, though he was mostly glad that she had shown up, at all. He had been worried.

Scott felt guilty for leaving her, at the party. They'd been having a good time together until Allison had asked to talk to him, and he had made a beeline for the door. He should've gone back sooner, he knew that he should've, but he and the girl got side-tracked. It had been a long conversation, mostly about the matching bruises that Allison and Lydia had on their arms from a women who was looking for Scott, and they had lost track of time. When Scott had gone back to the party to update Lois, Luna and Stiles on what he had been told, Lois had been the only one missing. She was gone.

Not answering her calls had worried Scott to the core. He had even gone as far as climbing to her window at four in the morning, just because he couldn't sleep not knowing if she was alright.

When he had seen her tucked up in bed, Scott could breathe again. But he still didn't know why she had been so late, today.

   According to her, she had simply overslept.

   At least, that had been her disclaimer when she walked into the library with her hands raised innocently, a detention slip in one and her keys still in the other. Lois had been caught by Harris the second she had walked through the doors.

    "Okay—" Derek shrugged, "I don't see anything."

   Lydia and Allison sighed, but kept their wrists outstretched for him to inspect. While she didn't doubt her friends, Lois had to agree with Derek on this one. When she had gotten the chance to look at the supposedly matching bruises, she hadn't really seen anything. No more than purple spirals and the ink that Lydia had traced around her own markings. Although, Lois was annoyed at the crazy woman who had grabbed them, in the first place.

    "Look, again."

   Upon arriving, Derek hadn't wasted much time in telling the teenagers about Isaac. Apparently they had tried an old, ancient practice on him that involved diving into his memories.

   The theory was that after Isaac's semi-conscious state, he had been unable to recall what had happened on the night that he had bumped into the girl that saved his life. From the small details that he did remember, however, Derek and Peter had believed that on that night, Isaac had found more than just a girl. They believed that he could have found Boyd and Erica, but the memories of it were locked away and stored at the very back of his mind. Isaac wasn't able to remember much about that night, but there had to be a slight part of his subconscious that remembered — it was in there somewhere, deep down, and Derek and Peter were determined to find it. They needed those memories.

   Lois had tuned out of the graphic details, though — from what she had heard through her hands covering her ears — their little alpha ritual involved plunging their claws into the back of Isaac's next and hunting for the memories, that way. The mere idea had made her queasy.

   But it still hadn't been enough. Peter hadn't seen much.

   A few minutes more of Derek Hale's scrutiny passed, all of the teenagers waiting patiently.

    "How is a bruise gonna tell me where Boyd and Erica are?"

   Lois threw her head back and groaned. Reaching over, Luna gave her a gentle pat on the head. It was obvious that Lois was tired, even if she didn't know why. Sleep must have been rough.

    "It's the same on both sides," pointing to the two wrists, Scott tried to make it as clear as he possibly could. "Exactly the same."

   Derek remained impartial, "It's nothing."

    "Pareidolia," said Lydia. She gained looks that insinuated that no one else knew what that meant, so she sighed. "Seeing patterns that aren't there....?" Still, no one had heard if it. Lydia rolled her eyes, "It's a subset of apophenia."

"Apophenia..." Luna furrowed her brow, "Like, seeing shapes in clouds?"

Impressed, Lydia nodded her head.

Apophenia? Lois hummed to herself in thought. She had never heard of the word before, but she was sure that they all must have applied to it, once in a while. With all of the crazy things that they had seen, Lois would have been shocked if they weren't dealing with apophenia, or this pareidolia stuff. There were several types of patterns they had seen in this world, and she wouldn't have been surprised if at least half of them weren't actually there. It did make sense, to Lois.

Apophenia.

Noting that Derek was unimpressed and unconvinced, Scott tried to convince him, "They're trying to help."

"These two?"

At the raise of his voice, Luna hushed him, to which he had just rolled his eyes. If he didn't stay discreet, he would be kicked out. Lois briefly wondered how they'd even gotten him into the school building — he had been accused of murdering the janitor, once.

"This one—" he pointed at Lydia, "—who used me to resurrect my psychotic uncle. Thank you, by the way." Derek sent her a sarcastic smile, making Lydia squint as him. He then looked over Allison with a darker stare, "And this one, who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack."

    It was true. They did do all of that.

    "Okay, alright— now, come on!" Stiles jumped into their intense conversation, "No one died— right? Look, there may have been a little maiming...." he got sent looks, "....okay, and a little mangling, but no death!"

   Lois nodded, "That's what we call an important distinction."

  "It was months ago, Derek." Taking her shot at convincing him, Luna crossed her arms. "None of us were the same, then."

    "I was the same."

   It was Lois who received pointed stares for that one, so she gave them a tight smile. They all sighed at her and turned away, clearly not impressed by her input. Though, it was true. She didn't think she had changed at all, over the summer. Only that she'd gotten to be more normal, than she had ever been able to be before. It was nice to act like a normal teenager. However, that all seemed to be very out of reach again, right now. She sighed.

    "My mother died," said Allison.

    "Your family's little honour code killed your mother." Derek told her firmly, "Not me."

    "That girl was looking for Scott; I'm here to help him, not you."

    "You wanna help? Then, find something real!"

    "Derek... give her a chance." Scott intervened the pair before it could have truly escalated, "Okay? They're on our side, now."

   Lois knew Lydia would have always been on their side if she had known what was actually going on. But they hadn't told her. And Peter had taken control of her mind and being. So, it wasn't really her fault that she had resurrected him from the dead.

    "Come on, Derek—" Lois said, "What else are they gonna do?"

   Derek reeled around to give her his usual dark stare, but he found himself at a stop when he looked over at Lois Lane. He squinted at her.

    "You smell different."

   And then, the man was making his way to the exit of the library with a persistent Scott McCall following behind.

   Lois scoffed, "What does that mean?"

The rest of them shrugged.

——

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