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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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027.
SUNNY-SIDE.
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——

   Matthew Lane rose a brow, glancing at the teenage boy stood on his doorstep with recognition. "Lahey— right?"

   Isaac nodded, slightly uncomfortable.

   He wasn't very sure how he had ended up at the Lane household that morning, three days following Boyd's death. But, after being dropped off by Melissa McCall on her way to the hospital, he had gotten there just past the midday mark. Isaac must've reached for the doorbell six times at least, before finally working up just enough courage to actually press it on the seventh. He hoped Lois would have answered — although, he had a feeling that she wouldn't.

   Lately, life had been weird. Of course, Isaac couldn't have really expected it to be normal — whatever their definition of a normal life was — but it had definitely been even less normal than it was on the average day. Which, might have been a record.

   Had it been under any other circumstances, perhaps Isaac would have been strangely impressed by the way things had gotten even weirder than usual.

   Since Boyd's death, life had gotten weird. Derek had gone MIA and no one knew where he was, though they had a feeling that his location was being kept a secret by Peter and Cora. They couldn't prove that, however, and it might not have even been true. Stiles and Luna were planning on heading over to the loft and getting as much information as they possibly could. But, what was far worse than Derek Hale's disappearance was the reappearance of Gerard Argent — who, unfortunately, wasn't as dead as they had hoped he would be. Isaac didn't know all the details, but Allison was taking Scott to see him in search of some information on Deucalion and his alpha pack. Deaton (who had been saved) had ushered him in that direction, and Gerard had eagerly agreed to see him.

   Isaac presumed there would be some sort of catch in exchange of wanted answers, but he trusted that Scott would do the right thing.

   He always did.

   Plus, that was not on Isaac's current radar. Rather, Isaac Lahey had spent his time trying to find out as much about that Peter kid, as he possibly could. He had seen him around school with Aiden and Ethan, as well as with Lois from time to time. He didn't know much about him, nor had he cared until he had shown up with the alpha pack, Miss Blake in his shared captive with the twins. Kali had called him a witch, and Isaac hadn't forgotten. He looked the boy up in effort to avoid his grief, and unfortunately not found all that much. It was disheartening, honestly.

   On the outside, Peter had mastered the art of looking like a very normal teenage boy. He was months younger than they were, not in their year by the fraction of a hair, and he had only moved to Beacon Hills over summer. His last name was Parker — which was odd and definitely the name of a superhero — and that was it.

   No matter how hard he searched, Isaac came up at a loss.

   Then again, it wasn't usually Isaac who did the research. Isaac showed up and bared his teeth, while Stiles and Lois did all of the intensive research and figuring of things out. Not lately, though.

   Lois hadn't gone to school. She had been as MIA as Derek had, over the past three days. Lois was grieving, having taken it harder than most of the teenagers, and Isaac hadn't seen her since they had left the loft. He hadn't heard from her, either. Isaac only knew she was alive because Stiles and Scott had assured everyone that she would likely be back at school after the weekend.

   But, Isaac wasn't able to wait that long. That was why he was at the front door of her house at around one o'clock on a Saturday, a nervous fidget in his feet as her father looked him up and down in a manner that he didn't quite recognise. He had met the man once before, when Stiles and Luna had been kidnapped by Gerard, and Matthew Lane had looked at him in a similar way. Isaac had little clue as to what it was, but it was certainly in a way that made him anxious and jittery.

    "Is, uh—" he stuttered, "—is Lois in?"

   Isaac mentally cursed himself, what a stupid question.

   It's her house, idiot!

   "She is," Matthew said, "She's still asleep, unfortunately. I only checked in, ten minutes ago."

    "Right..." Isaac pursed his lips, disappointed. He rubbed at his tired eyes but nodded his head, remembering to be respectful and understanding. "Thank you, anyway, sir." He turned on his heel to leave, "Sorry, y'know— for bothering you."

   The boy was a metre away when Matthew sighed. He had seen the dark bags under his eyes, and the slump of his shoulders, and felt sorry for the kid.

    "Hey—" he beckoned him back, and Isaac did as told.

   Matthew contemplated his decision for a moment, but quickly caved. He felt bad for the boy at his doorstep — he knew that this was Isaac Lahey, the member of Derek's pack that had been the most frequent when popping up in his daughter's life. Isaac was also the fellow beta of the late Vernon Boyd, and one of his only friends, and knew that he would be struggling in this tough time just as Lois was. He had never shown up at their home before, and Matthew would be lying if he said that Melissa hadn't notified him about Isaac's intended visit, in search of Lois. Whether he would let the kid in, or not, he hadn't decided until now.

   Isaac had protected his daughter — even if he had threatened her life and hurt her, just as much — and he was grieving. There was a deep reason that he made his decision, one that rang silent between them, but one that he hoped he wouldn't regret later on.

    "You drink coffee, kid?"

   Isaac shoved his hands in his pockets, "Yeah."

    "Come on," Matthew opened the door and stepped aside, with a nod of his head to signal the boy in. "You can wait, inside."

   Smiling a small but grateful smile, Isaac slipped past the man and into the home. The door slammed shut behind them and, for a very split second, Isaac worried that Matthew Lane would pull a Chris Argent and this would all be an elaborate plan to try and murder Isaac, just as Argent had tried to do with Scott on multiple different occasions.

  When Matthew walked past him, Isaac breathed a sigh of relief and remembered that Lois' father was a lawyer, and not a hunter of anything supernatural — he doubted that he would kill him.

Although, that wasn't exactly guaranteed, so he decided to keep his mouth shut rather than say anything stupid. The man wasn't a trained assassin, but he supposed that most parents could turn into one with a minutes notice if they needed to. He was sure that Lois was raised by a powerful man, one who could easily kick his ass — werewolf, or no werewolf — but that must have been a given with almost any father; they tended to be protective, especially if their daughter lived a life of supernatural risk. Isaac would have been a lot more shocked if Matthew Lane wasn't protective of Lois. Even if Isaac's father had never particularly cared about him, Matthew and Lois were a tight family unit from what he could tell. It was a strong bond. So, not really in the mood for an ass-whooping, Isaac decided to stay on his best behaviour.

   Isaac followed him into their kitchen, and stood awkwardly by the doorway until Matthew signalled for him to take a seat on a stool by the breakfast bar while he started up the coffee machine and moved to the fridge. It made Isaac quite excited, to see a real coffee machine; they had never had one in his childhood home, and Derek was far too broody for drinking coffee unless it was no milk or sugar. Neither the old Hale house or the loft had a coffee machine. There wasn't much time to drink lattes.

   He watched with a child-like innocence, and Matthew pretended not to notice.

    "You eaten lunch?" The man asked, raising a brow. His eyes briefly flickered over to Isaac, watching the boy simply shake his head. He hadn't had time to eat since his cornflakes. Matthew hummed and took a carton of eggs from the fridge, "I'll make you something. You like eggs?"

   Each question seemed to take Isaac more off guard than the last, and he struggled to find words. After a moment, he shook his head once again, "You don't have to, I'm not too hungry."

    "You've got to eat something," Matthew said.

    "Really—" he assured, "—it's okay."

    "The eggs need using soon, and I'm making some for myself, anyway." Shrugging, the man placed the carton onto the side and grabbed a frying pan. He swiftly switched the coffee mugs around and set the pan on the stove. "I would make some for Lois, but she wouldn't eat them even if she was awake." He gave a small and sad laugh, "She only eats ice cream, right now."

   He thought about it and chuckled, "I'm probably not the best dad for it, but I went to the store and bought six pints of vanilla."

   Isaac cracked a smile.

    "I like my eggs fried."

    "Sunny-side?"

    "Yes, sir."

    "Good man," Matthew nodded.

    They stayed in a comfortable silence while Matthew made the eggs, along with some bread that he had instructed Isaac to pop in the toaster when the eggs were close to being cooked. Isaac had happily obliged.

   His mom used to make him eggs on toast for breakfast, back when he was a kid, and the whole thing made him nostalgic. His dad had never made it.

    "I'm not sure Lois will wanna see anybody," her father said as he placed the plate of eggs in front of Isaac on the breakfast bar, a mug of freshly brewed coffee to go with it. Isaac gave him a thanks and passed him a knife and fork, to which Matthew had thanked him, as well. "I can't promise that she won't just tell you to leave."

    "That's okay," Isaac shrugged, "Just wanted to check in."

   Watching as the boy shovelled the egg and toast into his mouth, clearly hungrier than he had originally let on, Matthew smiled in a fond and fatherly way. Isaac was just like Lois, in times that weren't like this — unnecessarily hungry, as if they hadn't been fed in days. Isaac slurped his coffee and hummed, and Matthew rose a brow, thoroughly entertained when the beta flushed pink. Last time the two had met, he had started his recovery from being the absolute asshole that Lois described him to be. Now, Isaac Lahey seemed to be very different. He was softer than he had played at the winning game, although that wasn't hard; that night, Isaac had been on a mission to destroy everyone on that pitch to get Scott put back in the match. Half the guys on the team still flinched when Isaac ran towards them.

But, on the whole, Isaac Lahey appeared to be a lot less... Isaac Lahey. All Lois' father knew about the boy, was that his daughter could never seem to decide whether she liked him, or not. Some days she was complaining about his existence, and the next Isaac was knocking on the door and checking up on her. Teenagers had gotten harder to understand. To him, this boy seemed alright.

   It was nice of him to check in, and Matthew hoped that Lois would be willing to see him. He seemed decent.

    "You holding up?"

    "As best I can. How is she?"

    "Sensitive." Matthew was as loss for better words.

    "It was rough," Isaac nodded, cutlery down to scratch the back of his neck. "He won't be forgotten, though. We'll figure it out."

    "That's good to hear," and it was. Matthew was glad to hear it come out of his mouth, albeit stuffed with toast, and it relaxed him enough to be fully content with him seeing his daughter — if she would see him, that is. "You finish up, kid. I'll go see if Lois is awake."

Isaac nodded slowly and watched him place his cutlery down, at either side of his plate. Something about it made him nervous. It could have been his nerves to see Lois for the first time in days, or a worry that she would turn him away, or perhaps the action mildly reminded him of his father when he had done something wrong, or failed a class. Isaac wasn't sure.

   Swallowing his mouthful, Matthew stood from his stool and he made for the stairs. He jogged up them and placed his ear to her bedroom door, trying to hear if she was up and moving for the first time in days, though he doubted it — she wasn't really up for doing anything, last time he checked. Fist to the wood, he knocked twice and waited with a count to five before gently pushing it open and poking his head inside. Just as expected, the girl was bundled into a ball beneath her sheets.

   Lois was awake, however. Her eyes fell upon him when he took a step inside, frowning when he didn't move his hand from the door handle and take a seat on the edge of her bed as he usually did.

That meant one thing.

    "Someone's here to see you, kiddo."

    "Tell Lydia, I'll see her Monday."

    "It's not Lydia," Matthew informed, "I think you'll want to see them, but there's no rush."

   Sighing, Lois slowly pulled herself to a sitting position. It made her father smile, proud of her for willing herself to move for one of the few times in three days. She agreed, "Alright. Let me get dressed, I stink."

   He snickered, "Can smell you, from here."

    "My dad: the comedian," she deadpanned. "Get out."

   Matthew raised his hands in surrender but did as told, letting the door shut behind him with a soft click. Lois rolled her eyes and let out a heavy breath. She got out of bed, with much determination, and threw on a clean pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that she'd probably stolen from Stiles or Scott, at some point.

   She gathered her hair into a messy ponytail and yawned, not even bothering to look in the mirror before leaving the room and slumping down the stairs. Lois didn't really feel like seeing anyone, but she knew it would probably do her some good to see another human being that wasn't Stiles — who had climbed in and out of her window, informing her of everything that was going on, which wasn't all that much. Whoever it was couldn't have been close to her; her father would have sent them straight up, otherwise. Plus, this mystery person might have been there to tell her a thing or two that she would probably need to know, in the near future.

   Lois hadn't expected the mystery person to be Isaac Lahey.

   Nor had she expected him to be stood at her kitchen sink, a smile on his face as he cleaned dishes and chatted to her father.

   It was an odd sight.

    "Uh— hi," Isaac said, when he heard her enter. He cleared his throat and put the plate aside, suddenly unsure of what he had come to say in the first place.

    "Hi..." Lois mumbled, "Why are you here?"

   Matthew excuse himself quietly, and headed into the lounge.

    "I was just, uh— I was just passing," the beta lied to her not so smoothly, "Yeah, passing."

   With a risen brow, Lois made her way over to the basin with a dishcloth in hand. She began to dry the dishes as Isaac cleaned, a small part of her wondering if he had eaten with her father and why. But a bigger part of him wondered why he was really in her home, and whether just passing was a lie like she thought.

    "Really?" She wasn't a werewolf, but she could tell it wasn't the truth. Lois glanced at him, "Just passing, half way across town?"

   He gaped, then nodded.

    "Yeah."

    "Totally..." the girl rolled her eyes.

   Isaac's lips twitched at the corner. He bit back the smile that had threatened to appear and handed her the last dish, "Your dad's pretty cool."

    "I've been told," Lois squinted at him, "He fed you, didn't he?"

    "He makes great eggs," the werewolf finally grinned, unable to help himself when she scoffed. Isaac had expected her to tell him to leave her alone almost as soon as he arrived, and he was quite pleasantly surprised that she hadn't. "Like my mom made them."

   Her face softened, but she kept up the teasing.

    "His eggs are pretty good, I guess."

"Better than good."

"Whatever."

He laughed lightly. It was nice to hear her voice, again.

Three days had felt like three years.

A silence lingered, and once the dishes were put away, Lois pursed her lips. She leaned back against the counter and Isaac mirrored her position on the counter opposite, arms crossed.

"What are you really doing, here?" She asked.

"Seeing as Scott is with Allison, and Stiles is trying to find Derek with Luna, I figured it gave us free time." Isaac explained as if he were narrating a story. Shrugging his shoulders, the beta tried to go about his words in the easiest way possible. There was no point in lying about what he was there for — even if he was lying, since he didn't have the guts to tell her that he wanted to make sure she was alive and doing well, "And then, I had an idea."

Lois was hesitant, "Which is...?"

"Putting your freaky water-shit to the test."

——

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