⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀   ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
——

⠀⠀⠀   ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.*･｡. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*･｡.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

047.
TWISTED CONNECTIONS.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

——

   Stiles didn't take it well.

    "So, where is it?"

    "I don't know," Lois whispered. She could feel his eyes boring into the side of her head, and it was starting to hurt. She let out a sad sigh. It was hard to look at him, because if she did, Lois knew it would break her heart.

    "What do you mean, you don't know?" He frowned, and took a step forward. She mirrored it, backwards. "You said you found it!"

   The tone of his voice made her flinch, her eyes snapping shut as she shuffled away from him. Lois had never been afraid of Stiles; he was her best friend, her brother. There had never been a need to be afraid of the boy who loved her, the boy who protected her, who held her in her lowest moments and who pulled her out of bed on her worst mornings. To Lois, nothing about Stiles was scary — no one thought he could be scary. And yet, in that moment, the shear volume of his voice had her knees shaking. He was angry, and that scared Lois. Stiles was angry because of her.

   She forgave him.

   Perhaps she wasn't in the position to be the one granting forms of forgiveness because really she was the one in the wrong, with all the lying and whatnot, but she forgave him nonetheless.

   Stiles was angry, and he deserved to be.

   Honestly, she couldn't blame him. How could she? Lois had just confessed that Jennifer had told her that she must have found the Nemeton, which meant that she would have found the root cellar, too. If Lois had found that, then she would techie know where the woman was keeping their parents. Lois should know. But, there she was, telling them that she had no idea. The only person they knew who had found the Nemeton, and yet she couldn't remember how to locate it again. Their parents were going to die— Lois' father was going to be apart of the next ritual sacrifice if they didn't manage to find them, and she couldn't even remember where it was? In all seriousness, Lois was angry at herself. So, when Stiles raised volume in his voice and glared at her with genuine hostility for one of the first times ever since they were born, Lois didn't blame him for it. It was impossible to even try. Lois didn't blame him, at all.

    "Where, Lois?" He snapped.

    "I don't—"

    "Come on!" He hissed. That time, she flinched.

    "I don't know!" She stressed. Her heart was racing, "I have no idea how I found it, or where it was, but Jennifer knows that I did! And so does Deucalion, he knows that I found it!" Tears started to fall again, sliding down her cheeks like rain on a window, and she struggled to even see straight. "But, I don't know where it is! I—"

   Stiles slammed his fist on the metal table, and they all jumped at the harsh sound as it echoed.

   Lois paled slightly, Stiles had never lost his cool with her before. Never.

Not missing a beat, Isaac took a step in front of Lois and glared at Stiles. He didn't say anything, but it was a blatant signal that the boy needed to calm down before Isaac did something about it. He would never hurt Stiles — intentionally— but he didn't like the way Lois had nearly jumped out of her skin and looked like a wounded puppy. She and Stiles had never fallen out, like this. It was obvious. Stiles looked bewildered at his own actions.

    "I—" he started, but stopped.

   A moment passed.

    "I'm sorry..." Lois whispered.

   Stiles sighed, shaking his head, and looked away.

An awkward silence resounded. For a second, Stiles didn't even look at her. She wondered whether that was better than having to witness his harrowing glare, the distress on his face. Was it better for Lois to be ignored, than to experience the first time he had ever been angry with her? She wasn't sure. Lois didn't know if she could handle Stiles as a foe rather than a friend. The idea of him being angry at her in the way that she was angry with Scott made her feel sick. Stiles was her best friend. She couldn't lose two best friends, in one day. It wasn't as if she was purposely withholding information. Lois wanted to find her father and their parents as much as they did. If Lois knew how to get to the Nemeton, then she would have taken them. She would do anything to know; to remember it.

   Luna looked uncomfortable, Lydia seemed understanding, and Peter was watching her attentively. They hadn't forgiven him fully, and he feared that if they didn't forgive Lois then the two of them would be quickly cast aside.

   In his eyes, Lois had hardly done any wrong. Not like he had. It seemed that Isaac gad held that viewpoint on it too, being that he made no effort to stop glaring at Stiles.

Allison was yet to say anything, which was fair.

Lois didn't expect her to. She didn't expect her to be alright with what Lois had told them and she didn't expect her to not be angry with her. It would hurt, but Lois wouldn't have blamed her if that was how she felt. She didn't blame Stiles, either. Lois didn't blame any of them if they were mad. Because of her, their parents' death was guaranteed. Because Lois didn't remember, because Lois had the potential to save them but had fallen short at the last hurdle. If they died, it would be because of Lois. It would be her fault. Even if she couldn't help it.

   It was always Lois Lane.

A hiccup passed her lips, weeping softly like a small child, and she desperately tried to wipe away the fresh rounds of tears. Lois didn't like that her friends either had their stern eyes upon her, or were totally avoiding looking at her. It made Lois feel even worse.

    "How about we all step back and give Lois a moment?" Deaton calmly suggested, trying to diffuse the tension amongst the teens in hopes of the issue not escalating any further. "Hm?"

She wasn't sure if it was reluctant or willing, but either way, the room cooled in temperature as Stiles nodded once and backed off from the table. Luna slipped her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze, sending him a look that told him to cool it. After all, Lois was his best friend. There was no way he could be so angry at her, not with his whole heart. He loved Lois. Stiles couldn't stay mad. It wasn't in his blood to fall out with Lois Lane. They were two peas in a pod. She was his everything and they all knew it; she meant so much to him, more than Luna and Scott combined, and they were okay with that. With Lois, it was different.

   It always had been.

   No bond could compare to the one Lois and Stiles had.

   They were perfect in every sense.

   Best friends; siblings; sharers of one single soul.

   Stiles couldn't be mad at Lois. In fact, he wasn't. Sure, Stiles was angry, but it wasn't at Lois. Not really. There was a lot for Stiles to be angry at, a lot that he couldn't help but feel angry at, and he was merely taking it out on her.

   He shouldn't — he knew he shouldn't — but Stiles couldn't help it. His father was has been taken by Jennifer, Scott had gone with Deucalion and they couldn't contact him, and now their only lead to find their parents had fallen right before it was standing. No one knew how to find the Nemeton; Lois just told them that she'd been to it. That she might have been a part of it. But, even then, she still couldn't find it, for them. While he knew he shouldn't be angry at her, Stiles couldn't quite stop his hands from shaking with an awful silent rage. He was quaking with fear, sadness, irritation, even guilt.

   He felt bad.

   He had just made Lois cry.

    "How is that possible?" Lydia eventually spoke, "Is it possible? To be apart of the Nemeton? Could that actually happen?"

    "Jennifer is, isn't she?" Peter proposed.

    "Technically speaking," Deaton spoke. "It's possible for her to feed off of it's power, so I see no reason that Lois couldn't have an interesting connection to it." He watched Lois with a sympathetic gaze, she didn't want this. "Druids have spoken of enchanted things: magical lakes that could heal, bodies of water that disappeared the next day. It happened every ten years, and it was a game of total chance if it presented itself to you." He told, "When the Nemeton was cut down, nobody ever saw the lake again — but no one could ever find the Nemeton itself, either. It was completely unheard of."

    "Derek found it," Luna pointed out.

    "Yes, and Paige was the spark of energy that gave the Nemeton life again. That healed Julia Baccari, just enough to keep her alive for a short while." The veterinarian confirmed her speculations, as they were correct. "But I imagine the first sacrifice Jennifer made was the one that gave it real power. The first sense of real power it had felt in over seventy years."

    "She revived it," Allison's voice made Lois jump.

    "She did," Deaton said.

    "How does that lead back to Lois?" Peter furrowed his brow as he looked around at the group. He didn't understand all of it, yet.

    "Yes..." the man drawled. He turned back to the sniffling girl, not accusingly, but with great interest. Deaton seemed like he was going to be the one person who wholeheartedly believed her. Who didn't doubt her. Who was slowing coming to know what Lois was; it didn't make her less nervous under his stare, though. She felt as if her anxiety would kill her dead. "I'm sure we'd all like to know: how does that lead us back to Lois?"

   Lois wished she could tell them. She wished it was that easy.

   If she knew how it all lead back to Lois, if she really knew, then she would have told them already. None of this would have gone so far, past the point of remedying. Lois would have told them all.

   But, she couldn't.

   As if sensing her panic, Isaac found his hand nudging hers. He connected their pinkie fingers, something he had never done, and her breathing hitched. Her bleary eyes looked down to their hands and trailed up his arm, and then all the way to his face.

   Isaac smiled at her softly and it caused her tense shoulders to let go of their stiff state. It felt like Lois could breathe, just a little tad better than before. Isaac could still smell her anxiety but it was less than it was, a fainter scent, and he figured it had helped. He let his thumb stroke over her smooth, cold skin.

   Lois sighed softly, and sniffled.

    "It was the night of Heather's party."

   Stiles tensed at the mention of Heather's name, but he stayed as quiet as a mouse.

    "Everyone was gone. Stiles and Luna were busy, and Scott had gone to talk to Allison and Lydia. I thought everyone had left me, so I left." She retold, "I don't even remember why. I must've been angry, but next thing I know, I'm waking up late for school and my clothes are soaking wet. I'd slept in wet clothes," her head shook in remaining disbelief. "But I was late, so I didn't really question it."

    "I just assumed I walked home," Lois continued. "I didn't even realise that I didn't remember until I started having dreams. They were of trees, and water..."

She bit her lip, "When we went to the motel... that's when I felt different. With all the crazy stuff that happened that night and all the new things I could do..." Lois found it hard to explain, "I knew I was different. In the school, Deucalion told me I was it. I guess it is what I can do, and he knew it before I even did." She pursed her lips, "But in the bathroom at the motel, I saw this— this thing. This blue arrow, and all these lights, and it feels like I'm falling. And it kinda keeps coming to me sometimes, this one scene." In attempt to recall it, Lois shut her eyes tightly. The pack listened closely to her, watching on. "A couple of weeks ago, I had this dream: I was out in the preserve, and it felt so real, and I saw the blue arrow and the lights, and then— I — then I was drowning. It felt so real, like it had really happened." Slowly, her eyes opened and she found Isaac and Stiles watching her with recognition. "It was so real. And, I think it was. Because, when I woke up, I wasn't in my bed. I was—"

"—in the preserve." Stiles mumbled.

Lois nodded. He had picked her up after all, but she had never told him what she was actually doing out there. And, at that time, Lois didn't know herself.

"So, Isaac and I went back out there, yesterday. I wanted to see why I was there, if it would all come back to me. But it didn't, and the water that I was drowning in literally doesn't exist." A scoff and a humourless laugh passed her lips, "But it did. I was so sure that it did. There was a body of water, there had to be."

"If it was a dream—"

"It wasn't!" Lois cut off Allison, "It wasn't a dream! Because it was like my body was trying to tell me something, like it's wanted me to realise that I haven't been dreaming, or hallucinating. I'm not going crazy because it's like my body remembers; like my brain has been trying go get me to remember what happened that night for weeks. But I can't!" Her voice cracked, she felt hopeless all over again. "There's something stopping me. I wanted to remember all of it so badly..."

As if sensing what was coming, Lydia frowned; "What did you do?" She'd always been smart. "Lois?"

"I—" she cut herself short, unable to say it.

Instead, Lois slowly turned around and held the hair away from her neck. The teenagers gasped, or sighed, and Peter was the only kid who really knew what it was, other than Isaac. How it worked.

   They had lived it.

That didn't mean that the others didn't know where it had come from, at least. In fact, they knew well. Really well. Those were the same marks that Isaac had, when they dipped him in ice water, to try and remember what happened at the bank. Before they healed, they had all seen them. And they all know who had given them to him, as well. And why.

"Peter Hale?" Stiles scowled at Isaac, "You took her to Peter?"

"Stiles—" Lois tried.

"You made her get her memories scrambled by Peter Hale? He could've left her paralysed!" Stiles ignored her attempts, trying to throw himself at Isaac. Luna held him back.

"I didn't make her do anything!" Isaac defended, "She can make her own decisions, Stilinski!"

"I wanted to do it." Lois told the truth of the matter, hoping that it would defuse their tension. "Derek was there, so it's not like the dude was going to kill me. And it's not like I got anything out of it, anyway." She grumbled, "All I saw was the blue, and the water. It's my fault."

Another moment of glaring, and the two boys finally settled. It wasn't as though Isaac and Stiles weren't usually at each other, but that time was different. They were arguing over the safety of Lois, and she knew that Scott would have gotten involved if he hadn't gone off with Deucalion. Peter only hadn't because, like the girls, he cared that Lois had made her own decisions and came out the other side totally alive. She had survived it, clearly. She usually did.

"In the elevator, Jennifer told me about the Nemeton. Kali not being able to kill her, her surviving, the enchanted lake. She said that she was saved by the sacrifice of a virgin," Lois could feel the lump in the back of her throat. It hurt. "That was her first sacrifice to the Nemeton: a virgin. It was on the night of Heather's party, it was—" she glanced at Stiles sadly, "—it was Heather." Lois shifted uncomfortably, "She said that her sacrifice gave the Nemeton this new lease of life, more energy than it had felt in years, and that she thinks the water came back. Jennifer said that someone must have found it," her breathing hardened. "She was going to give me up; hand me over to the alpha pack to save her own skin, but that was cut short when she took Noah... I think that was when she realised why I could control water. She said she saw my eyes,"

   We're the same.

   Lois shook her head, "I said I wouldn't help her, and I wouldn't help Deucalion— they both wanted me because I found it, but if I wouldn't help them then I was in their way. All because I found it," her eyes narrowed, "That's what they all keep saying! That I found it; that I'm it; that I'm a threat that they both need! Deucalion and Jennifer— you found it, you found it!" She ranted.

    "Lois—"

    "What does that even mean?!" Lois seethed, teeth gritted. "I'm just Lois! I'm not special!"

Without her realising, Lois' eyes started to glow blue. A crack in the window filled their ears, and the group were shocked to see the rainwater outside had turned to ice. Ice?

Had that happened, before?

It started to pelt against the windows, and the water bowl in the corner of Deaton's clinic rose upwards in a trail of liquid.

The water grew, surely getting taller, and the teens and Deaton exchanged concerned glances. Lois' breathing was getting heavier in her chest, her hands were in fists, and the picture of the tree sat on the floor, now in two ripped halves. She hadn't even touched it.

"Lois?" Deaton was gentle, "I need you to calm down."

"She said that I was like her!" The girl hissed, "That I was just like her, that we were the same!" A sob bubbled from her chest, "I have to be like her because my eyes glowed white! Because we are both apart of the Nemeton!" Lois was crying freely now, "And, I— and maybe I am like her! Maybe I'm exactly like her! Maybe I am as bad as she is! Maybe I'm meant to be just like her!"

"How could you say that?" Luna tried to soothe her friend in a light tone, "You're nothing like her, Lois. You're not like her, at all!"

"But I am! I almost killed Aiden!"

Lydia stilled, "What?"

"I nearly killed him just like Jennifer killed all of those people. I am like her—" the ice pellets hit the windows harder, like hail, and the water in the corner kept rising. Lois cried, "I don't want this! I didn't ask for any of this! I don't want to be like her—!"

"You're not, okay?" Stiles shook his head, "You're not."

"You didn't kill Aiden," Peter added. "You lost control, but you didn't kill him. You wouldn't."

"And you didn't hurt Isaac, either." Her voice was hazy, hard to hear, but Lois just managed to make it out. Allison tried her best to be heard over the rain, "You didn't even think about hurting Isaac!"

Her eyes were slowly turning white, and they all took small steps back, apart from Isaac. He didn't move an inch. And no one tried to make him move, either. If what Allison had said was true, and he wasn't liable to be hurt, then he would be fine. They had each seen the way Lois acted around him; it was different, now. Whereas she'd used to despise him, enough to shoot him, it was all different. They were different. Isaac would be perfectly fine, because Lois wouldn't hurt him. They all knew that much, even if Lois didn't. She would never hurt him. Just like Isaac would never hurt her; he couldn't even if he really wanted to.

In times that Isaac felt he could rip the face off of an innocent civilian, on nights of the full moon, Isaac couldn't hurt Lois. Not in the storage cupboard when the twins had set him off, not when he had been in the ice bath and terrified, not on his first full moon; he had grabbed her, left her bruised, but Isaac had never hurt her. Not in purpose. When he could maul her, shred her to pieces, tear her up limb by limb. When he had been bloodthirsty, and she was the available source. When he had cared about nothing but power and dominance. Isaac had never been able to purposely hurt Lois. He couldn't. There was this little something always stopping him; it was always there. Not just when he wolfed-out, either.

Isaac couldn't hurt Lois when he was in human form, either.

   He had wanted to kill her several times, he had been told to, he had been threatened to, yet he hadn't. Isaac couldn't — no matter how much she infuriated him, how much he had despised her soul at one point, Isaac just couldn't do it. Because if Lois Lane was the one hurting, then so was Isaac Lahey.

Isaac couldn't hurt her.

And Lois couldn't hurt him, either.

"They're right," Isaac's tone was quiet, but to Lois, he was the clearest one in the room. "You didn't hurt me, because you're not like Jennifer. You aren't a monster, Lois."

"I am!"

"No, you're not!" He objected, "You're not a monster, and you aren't Jennifer Blake, because you're Lois. You're you."

He took a step closer, "You're sarcastic and annoying, and you've got a mean right-hook." A small laugh passed his lips, "You've run circles around alphas, and survived hunters, and outsmarted even the smartest of people, because you're smart. A total smart-ass, but still really smart."

The water in the corner stopped bubbling, slowly.

"Keep going," Deaton encouraged him, "She's listening to you, Isaac. Keep talking to her,"

"You—" he ran his tongue across his bottom lip, trying to find the words to describe Lois. Crazy, insane Lois. "You're funny, and you're bitter, but you're still kind and you love your friends. I don't think I've ever seen someone love their friends as much as you do, Lois. You love people you've never met; people that probably don't deserve it, and you protect them even though you don't have to." It was him who never deserved it. "Before your abilities, before all of this," he waved his hand, "You protected everyone. You taught yourself to use a crossbow, Lois! Who even does that?"

She remembered it.

"And I know you're hurting because Scott left, and I know that you're angry because you're scared he'll get hurt— because Scott's your friend, and you'd do anything to stop your friends getting hurt. Anything," Isaac reached out a hand to touch hers. "How could you hurt anyone when you're Lois Lane? You'd never hurt any of them,"

Isaac paused— here goes nothing.

"You'd never hurt me."

He placed his hand firmly on top of hers, wrapping her fist in his palm and holding it tightly. When she didn't fight him off, the beta weaved his fingers between hers. They fit as perfectly as ever.

"How could you be like Jennifer, when you're Lois?" Isaac was gentle as he pulled her towards him, "How could you be like her, when you're so unapologetically Lois? Your powers may be from the same source, but that doesn't make you her. It makes you you: a total badass who doesn't listen to anyone. You're not Jennifer, or the Darach. You're Lois Lane, and you love your friends."

The ice stopped and her eyes were no longer white. They faded into the blue, and then they slowly returned to the usual brown. A few sighs of relief sounded around the room.

   Lois blinked, chest heaving.

"I don't want to be like her," she whispered, tearfully.

"You won't be," his hands found her cheeks. She sank into the feeling, the warmth. "You could never be her, because you're Lois Lane — there's no one as crazy and stupid as you. Our psychotic, kinda hot, teacher couldn't even come close." He saw her lips turn up at the corner, "You're the Nemeton."

A smile crept onto her lips, a wet smile but a smile nonetheless, and Lois laughed meekly. It sounded good when he said it. Like it wasn't the bad that she had been expecting. She wasn't going to be like Jennifer Blake.

She was going to be like Lois.

A gagging sound from the side pulled them out of their moment, and they both sent the culprit unamused looks.

"Sorry—" Stiles let out another wretch, pretending to vomit as he held his stomach. The moment had been touching, and he was glad that Lois had been talked down, but he couldn't help it. That was how Stiles showed that he wasn't angry, anymore: he made an unnecessary, sarcastic comment. "—it just sickens me, s'all."

Lois rolled her eyes and wiped her face, stepping away from the beta. But, her smile remained. And it only grew wider when Stiles smiled, right back.

"Stiles!" Luna huffed, swatting his side.

   She was a total sucker for these Lois and Isaac moments that'd seemed to start occurring more regularly. There was no denying it — something about them seemed to fit together so perfectly, and it wasn't just Luna Thomas who noticed it. There had always been a strange chemistry between the pair. Whether they were hating the other's guts or making goggly eyes at each other, they had something between them; something that nobody could quite figure out. And, if she was honest, Luna wanted to see where it went.

He let out a squeal and held his ribs, and the group sighed.

"So..." Peter puckered his lips in thought, after a minute of nice silence. "Did you find the Nemeton? Or, are you the Nemeton? I'm confused— why couldn't Jennifer be clearer?"

    "You're telling me," Lois said.

"I believe your cousin did both: the Nemeton presented itself to her on the night of the first sacrifice, and gave her it's power," was the response Deaton came up with, gaining their attention. "While it's never happened before, it's not entirely impossible. Jennifer said she'd been feeding off the Nemeton's power for weeks, and seeing as we have our living proof in front of us—" he sent Lois a smile, "—I would say that Lois is gradually harbouring enough power to ultimately encompass all that the Nemeton exhibits. Like Jennifer, she's been getting stronger as time goes on." Deaton nodded at the girl, one full of pride. "I certainly believe you found it, Lois."

"No offence, doc..." Lois let out a huff, "But if one more person tells me I found it when I dont even really know what it is, or where it is, I might explode!"

"You can't remember where it is, because it doesn't want you to." He explained, vaguely. Always vague.

"Why not?" She frowned.

"You're not ready. The Nemeton is a deity that hides; it presents itself only when it's when it wants to. It's waiting for the right time to show itself to you." Deaton said to her, "You can't remember it because that night was traumatic for you, and sometimes trauma is blocked out as our mind's defence-mechanism. To save you from a traumatic memory, later on down in your life."

   Hm.

She supposed it made sense, but Lois found herself intimidated by his words. What had happened to her, that night? What about the Nemeton had traumatised her? It made Lois hesitant. She was suddenly unsure if she wanted to find a traumatic memory, or if it was better off left at the back of her mind. Perhaps it was safer in a place she couldn't access it, but Lois knew it couldn't stay in that locked box forever. If she wanted to find her father, she needed it to come back out. Lois needed that memory. If she didn't get to it in time, then her father was going to die. As was Chris, and Noah and Melissa. And probably a million other innocent people that Jennifer eventually dug her claws into.

"But as much as I would like to give you the time for your mind to remember everything, I fear we don't have the time to wait." He sighed, "The Nemeton could wait months before it presents itself to you again, and unfortunately, your parents will be gone by then. If we wait any longer, we won't save them."

"Can't we just put her in the preserve and wait? It could be like Lydia with dead bodies," Stiles shrugged off Lydia's glare, "Maybe Lois'll end up going to it without meaning to? They have a strange connection, right?"

"We already tried that," Isaac said.

"I had no idea where it was," Lois added on.

"That could work if time was on our side," Deaton approved of Stiles' idea to a certain extent.

"Then, how do we find it?" Lydia was the one to pose the big question, and all of their eyes went to Deaton. They always went to him for much needed answers, "If Lois can't remember where it is, and we have nobody else that does, how do we find it before I start finding bodies?"

Stiles, Allison and Lois grimaced. They knew what that meant; if Lydia started finding bodies, they would be the bodies of their parents. It was becoming more and more likely, as more time passed.

"There might be a way," Deaton seemed skeptical to tell them what it entailed, and how safe it would be. Though, he found it to be deceitful if he didn't. His honesty with the teenagers was one of the most important and vital parts as his role of an emissary, even if he hadn't been appointed yet. It appeared that Deaton had just become the helper to their pack — emissary. "But, it's dangerous."

"We do dangerous things, all the time!"

Stiles wasn't wrong.

Deaton's eyes found Lois', "We're also going to need Scott."

——