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.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
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029.
THE HISTORY OF
PETER PARKER.
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——

Matthew Lane glanced at his daughter, trying to act nonchalant as he prepared dinner. She was sat on top of the kitchen counter, significantly more upbeat than she had been in days, with her legs swinging back and forth.

"He seems... nice."

Lois quirked a curious brow, "Really?"

It was strange. The only person that her father had ever called nice was Luna Thomas, back when he had first met her. Which was admittedly true, but Luna was incredibly different to Isaac Lahey.

In her eyes, nice wasn't really the right word to describe Isaac.

"Okay— maybe not nice..." Matthew corrected, "But he doesn't seem that bad, either. In fact, I kinda liked the kid."

Again, Lois watched him in suspicion. Yet another thing to pass his lips, that she really hadn't expected her father to say. She had expected him to hate Isaac — like a lot of people seemed to, post bite — and especially as a lawyer, having known that he had been a suspect in his own fathers murder case. Of course he was proven innocent, but that didn't make the boy a saint; Isaac Lahey had done countless terrible things, including threatening his daughter on multiple occasions. Lois had expected her father to hate him in a way that no one had ever hated him, before. But, he didn't.

Why?

Isaac had left not too long ago. A silent agreement between them had been reached, having decided not to tell anyone else about her progress. Lois still wasn't well-versed in her new abilities, and they had only managed to create small ripples and trails, and she didn't want to let anyone down if she suddenly couldn't use them in a time of need. She was also still uncomfortable — Lois had no idea how this had happened to her, or when, but it made her feel icky on the inside. Wordlessly, Isaac had understood this. Or, if not, then accepted it at least. There was no argument, no bicker, not a single disagreement on the matter. He wasn't going to push Lois, not with something like this. She was adjusting. Throwing her in the deep end wasn't going to help, in the slightest.

That had been nice of him, she would admit, but Lois still didn't think it was the perfect word to describe him. Not so bad, perhaps.

Matthew had almost invited the boy to stay for dinner, but then changed his mind in a moment of decision — maybe he was too easy on the boy, just yet. Although, it was hard for him not to be so easy on Isaac. He had liked his eggs, after all, and he had checked in on his daughter willingly.

"You only liked him cause he ate with you," Lois rolled her eyes at how well she could read him. This made the man chuckle under his breath, earning himself a skeptical glance, but she promptly ignored it and spoke again. "He just liked the eggs — alright?"

"What's to say he only likes eggs?"

   Lois frowned, "What does that even mean?"

    "I'm just saying..." he hummed, "I don't think Isaac visited just to eat the food I made him, Lo."

His daughter watched him in distaste. She slipped off of the top of the counter where she had been sitting, unsure of what to have made of his words. Perhaps Lois was slow, or her father was way too ominous, but she didn't understand. She couldn't make sense of it. What was he saying? Or, at least, trying to say? Lois Lane had no idea when they'd started speaking in riddles, but she didn't like it. Riddles confused her, and Lois didn't like feeling confused.

"I have no idea what you're on about—" she said, "—but I'm not convinced that you know, either. So, I'm just gonna go take a shower while you figure that one out."

"You'll figure it out," Matthew told her.

"Keep telling yourself that, old man."

He rolled his eyes as she slipped out of the kitchen, heading for the stairs. "Dinner will be ready in a half hour, make it quick!"

Lois called back a brief whatever, and trotted up the stairs to her bedroom. Pulling her hair out of its ponytail, she routed round for a clean set of pyjamas to take to the bathroom, mumbling words under her breath as she searched. Eventually the girl found some, a victorious grunt passing her lips as she turned on her heel.

But Lois hadn't expected to see a shadowy figure clambering on her windowsill and into her bedroom, and her mouth opened to let out a scream.

"Dad—!"

"No!"

The shadowy figure fell into her room and scrambled over to her shaking body, slamming a hand over her mouth. The scream was muffled and silence fell upon them, ringing louder than any words and echoing in their ears. When Lois saw their face, she sighed.

They waited, quietly.

"Lo?" Her father called, "Are you okay?"

Squinting at the figure, Lois smacked their hand away from her mouth and huffed. She peaked her head around her door, seeing he hadn't come to check yet, "Yeah— I'm alright! False alarm!"

"Spider?"

"It was only a piece of thread," she agreed, "Silly me."

She could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

When he told her to look closer at it next time, before screaming bloody murder, Lois slowly shut her bedroom door with a soft click!

Spinning back to face the kid who had basically broken into her home — she would have called the police, if it had been anyone she didn't know — Lois let her eyes narrow into a glare. Her arms crossed over her chest in a defensive stance, and she watched them in both disgust and disappointment.

He grimaced, if looks could kill...

"What are you doing here, Peter?"

The boy scratched his head awkwardly, going to say something but finding nothing, and shutting his mouth again. If he were to be totally honest, Peter wasn't really sure why he was there. It was a reaction from her that he had expected — the look in her eyes was enough to tell him that she hated him as much as he had assumed she would, and he couldn't really blame her. Peter had expected it and he deserved it. While he hadn't ever wanted his cousin to hate him, he knew that it was his fault. If she didn't hate him, then he would have felt worse. It would have been wrong.

But, then again, it was wrong already. Everything that Peter had done, leading him up to this point, had been wrong.

He knew that. God, he knew than more than anyone.

Peter Parker had been a good kid, once. A really good kid. One of those kids that parents praised, that teachers adored, and that had lots of friends because they were just so good. Peter was the kid who rarely stepped out of line; in their family, it was always Lois who found herself getting into trouble. He took after her, with the sarcasm and good intentions, but Peter had never gotten up to half of the things Lois and Stiles ended up doing in their spare time.

His parents hadn't sheltered him, but they had definitely kept him under wraps. Although, Peter never really wanted to get into trouble. He didn't really feel like underaged drinking, or smoking green. The only thing he had wanted was a permit.

The most teenager thing he had wanted was a drivers permit, and a bike to match. And, when he had turned fifteen, he had gotten one. That was when things had changed.

To say he had felt cool with a bike, would have been a rather big understatement; with that bike, Peter felt invincible. Free. He had never felt trapped in his life, not until he got on his bike and he'd realised what freedom truly was. It was the wind in his hair, the sun on his face, the adrenaline that swam through his veins.

That was freedom.

Not always studying, being the ideal son. While Peter liked being good at school, and making his family proud, his bike made him realise that perhaps living like Lois and Stiles was more in his own repertoire than he had thought — maybe getting into trouble, now and then, wasn't so bad. Maybe he didn't even need to get into any trouble, maybe being on his bike was trouble enough. It certainly attracted it, anyway. With that bike of his, trouble seemed to come crawling to him. Peter hadn't realised that his bike was trouble, not until he had been locking his bike up for school, one day, and the new kids had approached him. Twins, he had noticed. Identical in face and in bikes.

The day that Ethan and Aiden had approached Peter in the school parking lot was one that he would never forget. That day, he had made two friends in the new kids. And, unknowingly, two enemies.

They had grown pretty close, pretty fast. They had common interests.

Bikes, girls and guys; Aiden wasn't one for good grades, but he liked basketball and so did Peter, and Ethan was also keen on art.

Instantly, they seemed to click.

Peter had never found such good friends — other than his own cousin, Stiles and Scott — as he had done, in Ethan and Aiden. It felt good to have a friend that wasn't so far away, in Beacon Hills, in a place that he wasn't. Peter had always had friends, but they all seemed to pale in comparison to the twins. It wasn't the same. It seemed like Ethan and Aiden understood him. It seemed good.

Too good to be true, that is. Peter should have seen it coming.

"Let me explain?"

"What's there to explain?" Lois glared, "How could you possibly explain what you did to Boyd?"

Peter cringed, "Lois, I didn't—"

"Don't you dare say you didn't kill him!" She spat, stepping away when he moved towards her. "You stood there, and you didn't stop it! You sided with them." Lois shook her head, "How could you?"

"There is so much that you still don't know, Lois..." Peter told her with a hoarse voice. He didn't want his cousin to hate him, but he had brought it upon himself. He just wanted her to listen. "I shouldn't be here, right now, but I need to tell you. Lo, you need to know everything— okay?"

"Why should I listen?"

"Because I'm your cousin," he said, "And I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't bring Boyd back," she muttered, "It won't bring back Erica. I bet you played a part in that too, didn't you?"

Peter couldn't bring himself to speak.

But the answer was loud and clear.

"I can't even look at you—" Lois choked out, her head shaking back and forth as she tried to rid herself of the thoughts. He was a murderer — not directly, but a murderer nonetheless. Then again, so was she, but it was different. Lois was the one trying to save the innocent, not endanger them. Peter was with the bad guys, the ones killing people for sport, for superiority. Her cousin was a murderer and their was blood on his hands. What had happened? Her Peter was gone. Now, when she looked at him, she didn't see Peter. All she saw was Boyd's empty eyes. "—you make me sick!"

Her hands started to shake, and Lois tried to avoid looking at him altogether, instead reaching to find her phone. What he had done was dawning on her, as well as the possibilities of what else he could have done that they didn't even know about, and Lois was close to losing her sanity. She needed someone, Lois didn't know who, but she needed someone to make this bearable. To make it all go away.

Lois scrolled through her contacts and hovered her thumb over one name. She hadn't even realised that she had gone to it; it had been instinct.

ISAAC LAHEY

Before she could click call, Peter rushed forwards.

"Please, Lo! Please, just listen to me? Hear me out?" He begged, almost on his knees. "You don't have to forgive me— I don't deserve forgiveness, but please just— just listen, and then you can do whatever you want! You can hand me over to Derek, or— or kill me yourself, but I just need you to hear what I have to say!"

She hesitated, biting her lip.

"Please..." Peter breathed, teary. "I've done bad things, I know I have, but you're my cousin. And I want to help, if you'll let me."

Another silence engulfed them, as Lois debated her next choice. Her eyes flickered down to her phone, the temptation to call Isaac to get him out of her house strong, but the temptation to listen to her cousin was stronger.

Sighing, the girl set her phone onto her desk and pursed her lips tightly. She rolled her shoulders and took a breath, then turned to look at Peter. Lois nodded her head, only once.

"You have ten minutes."

He breathed out a shuddering breath, relieved.

This was good. If Peter kept it together, perhaps it would be fine.

"I didn't meet Ethan and Aiden, in Beacon Hills."

Lois furrowed her brow, "What?"

"I didn't meet them on the first day," he paused, "Well, I guess I did, but not on my first day, not here."

"I met them on their first day, in my old school. They moved to town kinda late in the year, and they had bikes, so we got along really well." Peter explained, "We rode around town together, a lot, and I thought they were cool. Honestly? I still do..."

Lois made no effort to interrupt him. Rather, she chose to sit on her bed and listened to him intently. Peter paced around, instead.

"But, uh— they wanted to go riding one day, after a couple of drinks, and I went with them. I was sober, and they didn't seem too out of it... I guess I know why, now." He chuckled, albeit it a sad puff of air, as he thought back. Nowadays, Peter knew they couldn't get drunk, at all. "I went, and..." peering over at her, he swallowed the lump in his throat. "You remember— you remember when I got into that accident? And the doctors said I should have died, and that it was a total miracle I was even alive?"

She nodded, "You were under that car for forty minutes..."

"Yeah—" another thick swallow, "Ethan and Aiden were the ones who pulled me out, not some guys passing by." Peter had lied to the police for the first time, that night. He still felt guilty. "They pulled me out when I was bleeding to death, Lo, and they— they watched me."

"Watched you?" Lois echoed, "Bleed? But you had no major injuries, Pete, you were fine. Only cuts and bruises, right?" Her mind was jumbled recalling that night, "I don't understand—"

"I was going to die, Lo. But I didn't," he squeezed his eyes shut.

It was now, or never.

"Because they watched me heal myself, before I could."

Now, Lois was even more confused.

Her head hurt. It hurt so hard from wracking her brain that she almost fell faint. No matter how much she searched for answers to her confusion, Lois couldn't find any.

It didn't make sense. Peter had gone into the hospital with zero injuries — he was a miracle.

How could he have been near death? How had he been able to heal himself? Was that even possible? Lois didn't understand. He was her cousin, Peter Parker, not the superhero from the comics; he couldn't just heal himself, could he? Peter was a normal boy. A normal boy that she had kept out of this crazy life, with the sole purpose of keeping him safe. Yet, apparently he already knew.

"Kali..." she whispered, thinking back to the night Boyd had died. The alphas words rang clear, "She said you were a—"

"—a witch," Peter nodded. "Yeah."

Lois clenched her fists anxiously, "How? How is that possible?"

"I don't know..." his voice was quiet, but genuine. "Since I was little, I could do things. I could turn off lights and send things up in flames, if I cried hard enough. Mom and dad thought the house was haunted, but it was me. I was doing crazy shit, Lo..."

He continued, "When I was fourteen, I could hardly control it. I didn't know what was going on, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't keep it under wraps. It— it was like I had this power that wanted to burst out of me, y'know?" Peter peered over at her, and cleared his throat. He remembered what she had done in the loft, and he smiled faintly. It was sad and small, but it was there. "I guess you do know, now— huh?"

When she said nothing, Peter cleared his throat.

"I was pulled aside by the guidance councillor," he said, "She had seen me putting out a fire in the locker rooms, and she asked me about it. I thought I was gonna get suspended for arson," a light laugh fell from his lips, "But she knew what was going on. I wasn't sure how, but she did. And I cried. For two hours."

"She told me that she could help me, and she did." Peter nodded to himself, "She guided me through it, taught me how to keep it under control and how to use it; I learnt everything from her. So, I trusted her — she was the only one I could trust, with it. She knew everything. What I was, what I could do. I'm not sure there's even a single thing she didn't know, about me. I trusted her with my life."

He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, sighing at his own stupidity of the past. Or, perhaps it wasn't his stupidity — maybe it was theirs, and he had gotten tangled up in it, along the lines.

"She trained me, for a couple of years. And when the twins came to the school, she told me to be careful." Peter furrowed his eyebrows, "I wasn't sure why, but I did. I trusted her, so I kept it a secret from Ethan and Aiden."

"Like you kept it from me?"

Peter shook his head, "I wanted to tell you, Lo."

"So, why didn't you?" She challenged, "You know you could have trusted me."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He retorted.

Lois knew he had a point. She wasn't sure what part he'd been referring to — the werewolves, the hunters, the powers she now possessed. But, either way, he had a point. Lois had kept it all from Peter, just as he had done to her. And she knew why she had kept it from him, as well.

"I wanted to keep you safe..." she whispered.

"Exactly," Peter said, "I wanted to keep you safe. But, I guess I didn't need to. You're as much a part of this whole mess, as I am."

He was right about that, too.

"When they pulled me out from that car, I was bleeding. It was a piece of metal, right in the middle of my chest, and I knew if I didn't do something I'd die." Thinking back sent chills down his spine, "They offered me the bite, said it would save me, but then— then there'd be consequences. They were already in the pack at that point, but they were willing to save me. To go against the rules, just to save me from bleeding to death in the middle of the road, because I was their friend." Peter blinked back a few tears, his near death experience being a terrifying one. He wasn't sure that he'd ever really get over it. It was traumatic. "Their best friend."

"But I healed myself, because I didn't want to die, and I could heal myself. And I didn't need to become a werewolf to do it," he explained, "And they watched."

Peter sucked on his teeth and then pushed a hand through his hair; he did that when he was stressed, and Lois could tell that his reflection on his life brought him a lot of stress. But, she found it hard to do anything to help. She couldn't. She was busy listening.

"When I went back to school, they weren't there." Peter gave her a side glance, "I was called straight to the guidance councillor and she told me that she knew; she knew I had exposed myself, and now other people knew, as well. People that she had wanted to keep me away from, since the twins had moved in."

"Deucalion..." Lois pieced it together.

"Yeah," he nodded grimly, "Their whole pack knew what I was, and that I was good at it, too."

"They turned you in?"

"I turned myself in," Peter corrected, "Ethan and Aiden told them because they had to, I mean— how does a fifteen year old survive an accident, like that? Deucalion isn't stupid, they knew something was up. Even if they didn't know what."

He licked his lips, "I had no choice but to turn myself in, cause they would kill me, otherwise. I was too valuable, and I knew that Ethan and Aiden were apart of it."

"Your guidance councillor—" Lois frowned, "—didn't she help you?"

"She was already in it, as well." Shaking his head, he tried his best to explain. "It was what she was trying to keep me away from, the whole time, and I walked right into it. She couldn't help me; there was nothing she could do. The pack had already latched onto her, both of us were stuck."

"What was she?"

"A druid," he answered, "Their emissary."

Her eyes widened, jaw falling slack.

"Morrell?"

"Before teaching here, she was my guidance councillor." Peter informed, his lip curled. "If I handed myself in, she promised to protect me, and I trusted her. I still trust her— she kept her word."

"I've screwed up, Lois. A lot of times..." his voice cracked, "I didn't want to do the things we've done, but I had no choice. And maybe I could have stopped it, tried harder, but when you stray out of line, you learn not to." Peter blinked away tears, "I was the only one who wasn't raised into this life, and I struggled. It was hard. But every time I did something wrong, Morrell managed to persuade Deucalion to spare me. That I was a kid, and I would get used to it. Ethan and Aiden told him they wouldn't let it happen again, that they'd make sure I didn't screw up."

He rubbed at his face, "I owe them. All three of them."

"You—" Lois tried to rid of the lump in her throat, "You didn't move here by chance, did you? You moved because of them..."

"When the pack moves, you move with it." Confirming her suspicions, Peter hummed lightly. "I managed to convince mom and dad that I was getting bullied, Morrell vouched for me. She had already moved to Beacon, and when we found out that Derek Hale was the new alpha, and that there was an omega, Deucalion wanted us out here, with her." He squinted, "They were already thinking about moving, to be closer to you guys, but I still can't believe they bought it..."

"How did they know about Scott?" She asked.

"Word travels fast," he shrugged, "Deucalion kinda controls a lot of things, more than I even know about. I think he might have known about Scott before Scott even did."

Lois nodded.

"We decided that we'd all be new kids, from different places, and it made sense that the new kids would become friends." Peter said, "All three of us had bikes. I guess it was kinda convenient, it was almost like starting all over again."

He continued, "Originally, we only wanted to screw with Isaac. He already knew too much, after that night."

"The night the twins attacked him, Isaac couldn't remember it..." her forehead creased, "You did that, didn't you? You made him forget?"

"I'm not proud of it, Lo..." Peter's voice was low.

"But you did it," Lois shot back. "What else, did you do? Did you know it was Scott? Did you lead them to us?" She gave him no time to respond, already jumping to conclusions. "I bet you were excited when you heard it was Scott. We were your gateway in; it made things twice as easy, didn't it?"

"No— I didn't know!" He argued, "I didn't know about Scott until we started school, and Aiden and Ethan could smell it all over him. We were told to get to him, to go for the things that'd hurt him, that he cared about."

"Danny and Lydia..." Lois narrowed her eyes, "And—"

"And you," Peter sighed heavily. "Scott cares about you, and he cares about Stiles. My job was supposed to be easy," he muttered a few choice words, "Until Lahey got in the way, and started caring about you, too. I wanted to keep you out of it, but Isaac made it so damn hard. He kept dragging you into it, without even knowing, and the twins wanted to get him so badly. They didn't care if you got hurt— you were collateral. It was easier, for them."

"Two birds, one stone." When he nodded, Lois spoke again. "Isaac doesn't care about me. I just end up stuck with him, 24/7."

"You're so blind, Lo." He chuckled.

"I'm not blind," she hissed, "You're seeing things that aren't even there."

Peter decided to ignore the comment.

He couldn't make Lois see sense, so he didn't try.

"They wanted him to hurt you. By doing that, it would hurt him and Scott." Peter expanded, "It made them weaker, and it was a way in. With Danny and Lydia, I guess they both ended up being important to you guys." He was quiet for a moment, and then smiled softly. "I heard you threatened Ethan at the hospital. They told me I needed to tell you, or make you back down, somehow. You were onto us,"

"I tried to make you hate me, by thinking I hated you." He then screwed up his nose in thought, "It didn't really work. You still ended up at the loft, cause you knew we were going to pounce."

"It wasn't hard to figure out."

"You're smart, Lois. Smarter than they anticipated."

   She rolled her eyes, "Glad I could impress."

    "They knew about you, as well." He eventually confessed, "I don't know how, but Deucalion knew that you were gonna be a threat the moment he saw you. He wouldn't tell me why, but at the loft, you answered that question. We all saw it, with our own eyes."

    "But— but how could he have known? I didn't even know about this, Pete! Not until the cross country meet, I had no idea—" she struggled to find words to explain her confusion, panic bubbling in her chest, "I don't know what this is, or how to even used it. How the heck did he know?"

    "I'm not sure," Peter sighed, "But he wants it. He wants you on our side."

    "Why?"

    "Because you're something no ones ever seen, Lo." He said, "I don't know what he knows, but its something more than he's been telling us."

   Peter continued his train of thought, "When he gets through Derek, he's gonna come after you. Having you on our side makes us stronger, and gets you out of the way of his final prize."

    "Scott," she already knew. He nodded.

    "After getting through to you, you'll be able to get through to Scott. Deucalion thinks it'll make Scott cave, easier. Without you, he's not as strong..." Peter turned to her with sad eyes, "You're his biggest threat, Lo. You're the main thing stopping him from getting to Scott. When Derek and his betas are all gone, it's just you. Even if you don't know how to use it yet, Deucalion is threatened by you. Whatever you can do, he needs it to be for him, not against him." The boy clicked his tongue, "I think he's scared of you. If you're helping Scott, you're almost invincible together."

   Deucalion was threatened by her? Scared of her? The thought had Lois rolling in her future grave. She'd never thought that a man as powerful as Deucalion would be scared of her. Little Lois Lane.

   What was it that she could do? Waves seemed futile, against him.

   Was there more that she didn't know about? Were the waves and water just a fragment of her abilities? Was she lethal?

   Peter could tell that Lois was in deep thought. He knew that she was confused, and overwhelmed, and he also knew that his ten minutes were definitely up. The boy didn't really want to overstay his welcome — seeing as she had graciously agreed to hear him out —but it felt wrong to leave her. Lois was his cousin, and Peter still cared.

    "Kali meant what she said," he eventually told her. "She's gonna come after Derek and Isaac, then she's gonna come after you."

   Lois didn't like the sound of that.

    "And, what about you?" It was Lois' turn to ask the difficult questions, her eyes flickering to meet his. "Are you gonna come after me, too?"

    "Lo—"

    "Would you kill me, if you had to?"

    "You're my cousin, Lois..." he grew quiet and weary.

    "If you had to, would you kill me? Just like you killed Boyd and Erica?" She tested.

   The tension between them was suffocating. For a moment, Peter felt as though he was choking in it. He didn't want to answer that, because he already knew the answer. It wasn't an answer either of them wanted to hear — but, Peter Parker didn't have a choice. It was out of his hands, unless he found another way.

    "Not if they kill me, first."

   She didn't know what to say to that, so she didn't.

    "I'm not gonna hurt you, Lo. I don't want to hurt you," Peter headed towards the window, "But, until I find another way, I've gotta do what Deucalion says."

    "Can't you just leave?"

   He sighed dejectedly, "Lois—"

    "Walk out, tell them you changed your mind." Tears sprang to her eyes, fearing that if he left, she would never see him again. Not until it was too late. "I know you didn't want Boyd to die, I can see it in your eyes, Pete."

    "Lois! Dinner!"

   They both glanced at the door. Lois quickly grabbed his arm and tugged him away from her window.

    "We can protect you— okay? We'll keep you safe, you'll be in our pack. And— and you can help us do the right thing, and we won't let Deucalion hurt you. You can do the right thing, cause you're a good person." Biting her lip, she begged him to stay. "Please, Peter, I can't let you go back. Stay with me, and we can stop them! You can stay with us! Isaac and Scott— they'll understand, and Stiles won't turn you away. You're our friend, you're my cousin."

    "Lois..."

    "You're my cousin and I love you."

   His heart broke, into two.

    "Isn't that enough for you to stay?" She choked out.

   Carefully, Peter detached Lois from his arm and placed her hand by her side. He didn't want to, god he didn't want to, but he slowly edged towards the windowsill and pursed his lips. It was tempting.

   But it wasn't possible.

    "They're gonna come for you, Lo." He whispered, "Things are gonna get worse, and I don't think they'll give up, so easily."

   And then, Peter Parker was gone.

——

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