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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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017.
CROSSING LINES.
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——

    "Scott? Scott."

   His eyes flickered open, and Lois sucked in a breath.

    "Thank god..." she muttered, sitting back in her seat in front of him and Stiles. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face, she gave him a skeptical glance. "Anachronism."

    "What...?" Scott blinked.

    "That's the word: anachronism." Lois repeated. She watched him shift under his weight and suppress a groan. Her eyes flickered over to Stiles'. He had the same expression as she did and the two held each other's gaze for a brief moment, having a short, silent conversation with their eyes that no one else could hear or possibly understand other than them. They had been having these silent conversations since they were kids. Lois nodded her head slightly and then looked away, "Are you sure you're okay, Scott?"

    "Yeah— sorry..." he sighed, "Uh— what's the word?"

   Stiles looked down at the tablet in Lois's hands, her body pretty much hanging over the back of her seat so she was facing them.

    "Anachronism."

    "Something that exists out of its normal time," Scott said.

    "Nice! Okay, next word..." Sliding the completed page of the online dictionary to the left, Stiles clicked his tongue. He searched for a word and hummed to himself, tapping the screen. "Right, next word is incongruous."

   They had been helping Scott with his words for almost three hours, now. Well, that was, when he wasn't half unconscious. He had missed his words of the day since school had started, being that so much had already happened, and he was determined to go back over them and try and cram for their PSATs.

   It also served as a good distraction from what had happened the night before.

   Scott and Isaac had gone to talk to Deucalion, and apparently things had quickly gone south. Derek's pack had shown up and it seemed that the man already knew this would happen, as his pack of alphas had lurked out of the shadows ready for a fight. There seemed to be an ulterior motive to Derek's need to kill Deucalion, one that Scott failed to understand until he had demanded Derek kill Boyd. They wanted him to kill one of his betas — they now figured that was why Derek had kicked Isaac out of the loft; if he didn't live with Derek, then it would be harder to kill him if they forced him to. Derek didn't want to kill Isaac, and he didn't want to kill Boyd. He couldn't. They were his beta's and he cared about them, and after Erica's death, he would have been damned if he let anything happen to the two kids that he had left.

   Derek didn't kill Boyd. Derek didn't kill anyone, for that matter. He hadn't needed to. Rather, Allison Argent had shown up and saved him from the misery. Even after Scott had warned her not to get involved for the sake of her own safety, she had still made an appearance in true Argent style, bow and arrow at her side and a smirk on her face, and she had saved everyones lives.

   Almost everyone, that is.

  Shaking her head to rid the thoughts, Lois tuned back in to the word that Scott and Stiles were trying to define. When she did tune back in, she rolled her eyes.

    "Um— can you use it in a sentence?"

    "Yes. Yes, I can." Stiles cleared his throat and began his way of putting it into a sentence for Scott: "It's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross-country meet after what just happened... incongruous!"

   Scott rolled his eyes half-heartedly but tried to define the word he had been given, anyway, "Out of place; ridiculous, absurd."

   "Perfect. Okay, next word: Darach."

   Lois squinted at him, unimpressed with his decision.

    "Darach; it's a noun."

   When he felt both Lois and Scott's unamused eyes on him, the boy let out a groan. He had been dying to talk about what he and Luna had discovered when working with Deaton on the day that they had left school early, and left Lois, Scott and Isaac to fend for themselves against the alpha twins. Meeting with Deaton had lead them to Lydia, which had lead them to the next two sacrifices in the new pattern of three military affiliates. Kyle had been the first, the music teacher had been the second, and Mr Harris had been the third and final victim on the murderer's hit list.

   While Lois hadn't like Harris, she hadn't wanted him to die. But that seemed to be the general pattern — people around them kept on dying whether Lois and the pack had wanted them to, or not. They didn't have any say on who lived and who died. The pack weren't even able to try and save them, anymore. It wasn't up to them.

    "We have to talk about it sometime— okay?" Stiles sighed, "And we're gonna be stuck on this stupid thing for, like— five hours. So, why not?"

   To that, Scott didn't say anything; he shifted and groaned.

    "Next word..." Lois took the tablet, "Intransigent."

    "Stubborn, obstinate— ah!" The omega winced as the bus hit a pothole, and his whole body jolted.

    "Oh— buddy, you okay?" Stiles frowned, "We shouldn't have come. I knew it," he huffed, shaking his head several times. Lois gnawed on her lower lip, she didn't want to agree with him but she did. "We shouldn't have come."

    "We had to," Scott breathed, "There's safety in numbers."

    "Yeah? Well, there's also death in numbers, okay? It's called a massacre," their friend ranted, counting off the endless words on each finger of his hands. "Or bloodbath, carnage, slaughter." Lois sent him a pointed glare as Scott winced again, "Butchery..., wow, that's—" With another look at Scott, Stiles sighed and went to stand up, "Alright, Scott, I'm telling coach that you—"

    "No! No, no— I'm alright," he said.

   This time, it was Lois who intervened.

    "You don't look alright," she noted his pale face and clammy complexion. Lois brushed the back of her hand against his head. He was running a fever. "Scott, I need to take a look at it—"

   Flinching back, Scott denied, "I'm okay—!"

    "Scotty, just let me see it." Lois spoke, her voice gentle. She tried not to sound concerned, "I just need to take a look, alright?"

   The omega took in a deep breath. He looked into her eyes, the deep brown a mix of worry and anxiety, and Scott tried to find a way to stop her from looking. To convince her that he would be okay and that she didn't need to worry. But, he couldn't. Because he wasn't sure if he was going to be okay — there was no way of him knowing if he would start to heal like he should have started doing a long time ago, or if this was never going to heal. Scott hoped it wasn't the latter. He really hoped it wasn't the latter.

   A moment of contemplation passed.

    "Alright."

   With a soft smile, Lois leant over the seat and took the bottom of his shirt between her fingers. She carefully pulled it up, slowing as she noticed him grimace, until the wound was visible.

   Lois cringed. It look bad.

    "Dude..." Stiles' eyes were wide and alarmed.

    "I know it's bad, but it's because they're from an Alpha." He was quick to defend, "It'll take longer to heal."

   There was truth to his statement: she had been with him at the animal clinic on the night that his wounds from Derek weren't yet healing, and Deaton had told them that it was because Derek was an alpha. She supposed the same logic applied here, but Lois had a inkling that even then, they should have healed already.

    "How come Boyd and Isaac are fine, then?" She tested.

  That, they were — Isaac and Boyd had completely healed from their alpha pack induced injuries, and she stole a glance at the back of their heads from where she sat on the bus. The pair of betas were four seats away.

   Scott couldn't give her an a valid answer. So, he didn't try.

   Instead, Scott sank down in his seat. He rested a hand over his wound and shut his eyes, worried that if he didn't close them then the well of tears would threaten to scale his cheeks.

    "I can't believe he's dead..." he muttered.

   She shook her head solemnly, "It's not your fault—"

   But she fell silent when he shook his head at her, his teary eyes now open and guilty. Scott looked plagued with the guilt he felt.

    "I can't believe Derek's dead."

   And Lois Lane couldn't believe it, either.

• • •

    "Lane!"

   Lois turned in her seat with a frown, "What?"

    "Jared's car sick, again!" Coach told her with a grimace. She returned the disgusted expression, having not really wanted to know about the state of the gagging kid in the corner, and rose a brow when he continued to talk, "What the hell do I do?"

   Part of her was certain that, as a teacher, he should have known what to do if another kid got car sick, but the other part of Lois wasn't remotely surprised. Finstock wasn't exactly attuned with a teaching life, and she wondered whether he had a teaching degree to begun with. Plus, it wasn't the first time that he had asked the Lane girl for medical advice — by now, it was common knowledge that Lois Lane had some practice in the medical field, with her aunt being a doctor and her summer at medical camp when she was younger. Not to mention how she had assisted Melissa McCall in performing CPR on Jackson Whittemore.

    "I don't know?" She shrugged, once. Lois didn't really care that much, either. "Tell him to look into the horizon, or something?"

   Coach took in the information and nodded.

    "Jeez, Jared— how do you even get on the bus? Look at me! No, don't look at me... do what Lane said and look at the horizon! Keep your eyes, uh— keep your eyes on the horizon." He chanted, his own face looking green and peaky. Gaze travelling back to Lois, he noticed Scott's half-conscious state and tired eyes, and immediately assumed the worst. "McCall, not you too—!"

    "No, coach—" Scott forced a smile, "—I'm good."

   Satisfied with the answer, the man went back to occasionally blowing his whistle and encouraging Jared not to puke anywhere in the general vicinity.

    "Scott, you're bleeding again..." Stiles pointed at his wound and Lois fought the urge to try and help the boy. They both knew that Scott didn't want them to worry, but it was too late for that. "And don't tell me that it's just taking longer to heal, okay? Because I'm pretty sure that still bleeding means not healing, like— at all."

   Scott was too concentrated on a boy that sat up front.

    "He's listening."

   Brows cinched, Lois followed his eyes and found Ethan. He was the only twin that had come on the cross country meet, and that in itself was suspicious to the trio at the back of the bus. They had yet to see Aiden and Ethan apart — quite literally — and it was a bit unsettling to see him without his carbon copy. And he was sat next to Danny Mahealani, of all people. Lois knew that Danny was interested in Ethan and she had once approved of it; but that was before she had found out that he was in the alpha pack that had killed Derek Hale. Peter being friends with them was enough to make her blood boil. Did they have to take her friend down with them, too? How was Lois supposed to get them away from those that she cared about, when they had sank their claws right in?

    "Is he gonna do something?"

    "Not in front of this many people," Scott shook his head.

    "Okay—" moderately happy with his response, Stiles pointed at Isaac and Boyd whom were dangerously close to the boy that had help killed their alpha, "Well, what about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?"

    "They won't." Lois was the one who answered. She shook her head, "No— not here."

    "What if they do? Are you gonna stop them?"

   Scott nodded, "If I have to."

   Some time passed by — that Lois had spent texting Lydia an intense interrogation about why she, Allison and Luna had been following the bus since it had left the school — and it seemed that the bus journey was going as according to plan. However, that had gone a wry when Boyd had nearly launched himself at Ethan in front of the entire cross country team. Scott had gone to rectify the issue, stumbling around and looking deathly sick, when the bus was then slowed to a stop and they were left in foreseeable traffic. At this rate, Lois doubted that they would even make the meet. 

   She wasn't sure if that was a bad thing, or not.

    "Crisis averted?"

   Scott nodded, falling back into his seat.

    "Okay, good—" Stiles said, "—cause we got another problem. Ethan keeps checking his phone, like, every five minutes. It's like he's waiting for something, y'know? Like— a message, or a signal of some kind." He rambled on, "I don't know— something evil though, I can tell. I have a very perceptive eye for evil, but you guys know that."

   Not really listening to his rant, Lois narrowed her eyes at the back of Ethan's head. "I don't like him sitting with Danny."

   The two boys agreed with her. She hummed, slipping her phone out of her pocket and started a new message. Lois began to type and they watched, confused.

    "What are you doing?"

    "I'm gonna ask him what Ethan's waiting for."

TO: DANNY          SENT: 1:57
WHY DOES ETHAN KEEP
CHECKING HIS PHONE?

   Danny turned to look at Lois and she wiggled her fingers.

FROM: DANNY          SENT: 1:58
NOT SURE. WHY DO YOU
WANNA KNOW?

TO: DANNY          SENT: 1:59
IT KEEPS GOING OFF AND IT'S
BUGGING ME.

FROM: DANNY          SENT: 2:00
I CAN'T JUST ASK!

TO: DANNY          SENT: 2:00
SURE YOU CAN!

   Once again, he peered back over at her. Danny sent her a look as if to tell her to either quit asking or tell him why she wanted to know, but she couldn't find any action to suit other than a shrug. The boy rolled his eyes and put his phone back in his pocket.

   Lois narrowed her eyes, and began typing again.

TO: DANNY          SENT: 2:02
COME ON! PLEASE? JUST DO IT
FOR ME? IM NOSY.

DANNY.

COME ON.

I'M YOUR FRIEND! PLEASE?

DANNY. DON'T IGNORE ME.

I ASKED SO NICELY! YOU WANT ME TO
NOT ASK NICELY? THAT CAN BE ARRANGED
DANNY! DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.

TYPING . . . . .

...PLEASE?

   Eventually the endless chimes of his phone had worn him down, and he pulled out his phone once more.

   He spared her a playful glare, to which she beamed, and then leant over to Ethan and whispered something. The two boys had spoken for a minute, or two, before Danny had started to type.

FROM: DANNY          SENT: 2:06
SOMEONE CLOSE TO HIM IS SICK.
MIGHT NOT MAKE IT THROUGH
THE NIGHT. HAPPY?

   As she read out the text in a low voice, Lois peered up at Scott and Stiles with her bottom lip pouted. There was only one person that they knew Ethan was close to, other than his brother, that was sick. It was one of the alphas from his pack that Scott had fought the night prior, and he wasn't just sick.

   He was supposed to be dead.

    "Ennis?" Scott frowned.

    "Okay, so— does that mean...?"

   Scott cut Stiles off with a nod, he forehead creased in thought as he ran over the possibilities, "He's not dead."

   Shaking her head, Lois added; "Not yet."

——

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