048.
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.*・。. AN ODE TO CLARK KENT .*・。.
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048.
REGRET.
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——
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Staring at me like a lost puppy, Scott." Lois rolled her eyes and tried to focus on filling the tubs with ice, just like the last time they had been doing this. But, that time for was Isaac, and Scott wasn't in Lois' bad books. Right now, however, both of those things were very different. This wasn't for Isaac and Scott was in her bad books — in fact, he might as well have written the whole freaking book. It was basically about him, now. "Stop, alright? We both know those adorable brown eyes don't work on me."
Scott fought back a smile.
They both knew that his eyes did work on Lois, and the fact she had called them adorable warmed up his cheeks, but he'd pushed the smile away when he realised she wasn't going to let up. "C'mon, Lois. You can't stay mad at me, forever."
"Oh—" she arched a brow in challenge, "Wanna bet?"
He cringed, she would win.
It vaguely reminded him of sophomore year, when Stiles held a grudge against Scott for not being able to help his father when he had been hit by a car and nearly mauled by a mountain lion at the parent-teacher conferences because he had been too busy helping Allison. Stiles had been angry, and upset, and he had stayed angry and upset with Scott for around a day before he gave in. This was an awful lot like that, except it was Lois who was mad, and he had messed up more. A lot more. Scott had screwed up and Lois was a really good grudge-holder, and he didn't doubt that it was going to be harder to get her forgiveness. She felt betrayed. He could tell by the way she had avoided looking at him since he had walked into the animal clinic.
Scott wasn't used to Lois being mad at him. Usually, Lois would be the one who would be telling others not to be mad at him. Lois was seldom on terms with Scott that were any less than good.
He didn't like it. He really didn't like it.
There were no words to express how much it had hurt when he had smiled at her but she hadn't reciprocated it. He knew that she wouldn't be happy, but Scott would be lying if he had expected to have lost a friend. Well, it felt like he had lost a friend. In fact, pain like this came close to losing Allison. Maybe, just maybe, potentially losing Lois Lane felt even worse.
"Are you really going to stay mad at me, forever?"
Sighing, Lois finished emptying the ice and threw the plastic bag somewhere to the side.
She walked away from the tubs that were still being pulled out of the back room and went to grab more ice from where it had been left out in reception, Scott following after her.
Was she going to stay mad at Scott, forever? Probably not, but it felt like she could be. Lois felt like she could be so mad at Scott for leaving with Deucalion that she could deal with never having to see him again, for as long as she lived, but that wasn't true. No matter how angry she was right now, Lois could never live without Scott in her life. Life without Scott McCall wasn't worth living. He made a mistake, and he was sorry, it was just down Lois to forgive.
But, forgiving was the hard part. Right now, it didn't feel like she would ever be able to truly forgive him. Perhaps she had no right to be mad, to be so upset with him that it hurt, but judging by the guilt written on his face, she was right to be. Lois was right to have been mad at Scott, because Scott was mad at himself.
One thing he loved about Lois Lane, was that she would always hold him accountable. If he messed up badly, Lois would tell him.
That was both a blessing, and a curse.
Scott appreciated being held accountable. He always strived to do better, to be better, and accountability helped him get there. It did hurt, though. Admittedly, Lois giving him the silent treatment stung.
"I— I'm not gonna be mad forever," she rubbed her forehead, still avoiding eye contact. It was easier to look at her shoes. They weren't her nicest pair of sneakers — actually, the converse on her feet were pretty beaten up from all her time running with wolves, but they made her feel less anxious than Scott did. Which, in itself was a first, since Scott had never made her anxious. Maybe he had made her feel anxious for him a few times, but never had Lois felt anxious to be around him. To look at him. To be left alone with him, like she was right now. "You're right; I don't think I could be mad at you, forever." That made him crack a smile, but it fell again as she carried on. "But... I just need time. You left, Scott."
Finally, Lois lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were teary, and he desperately wanted to wipe them away and pull her into a hug, but he couldn't.
"You left us, and I don't know how to forgive you for that." She chewed on her lower lip to try and keep herself composed, "We— we needed you. I needed you! And you still went with him! We all watched him kill Peter, and you still went! Even when we tried to stop you..." she licked her bottom lip and let out a breath, "Were— were we not enough? Me and Stiles?"
"Lois—"
"Was it not enough to stop you, Scott?"
To that, he had nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because he did leave even after Deucalion killed Peter (who Scott now knew was alive in an overwhelming moment where he had walked into the clinic and thought he was seeing a ghost, and he knew it was vaguely thanks to Lois somehow), after Scott had promised he would keep the boy safe. Even when Lois and Stiles had begged him, had insisted that there would be another way, poured their hearts out begging him to stay, Scott had still walked away. He had doubted there would be another way to get their parents back, and without him, they'd lost Matthew and Chris.
Scott had doubted them; he doubted they would find another way. And yet, there they were: with another way.
"Course it was. You and Stiles are always enough." His words were a promise, and he looked down, ashamed of himself and his decisions. "I shouldn't have doubted us. You guys said there had to be another way, and I didn't listen. That's on me," Scott looked up and held her gaze, "But you're my best friend, Lois. And you have every right to be mad, and I don't expect to be forgiven, but there is no way that I can do this without you. I can't live without you in my life," he sighed heavily.
"Lois..." Scott's eyes were honest, "I'm sorry."
If she wasn't so proud, Lois might've forgiven him on the spot.
"I believe you," she told him, nodding. His eyes shone brighter at the comment, and Lois found herself smiling a small and absent smile. "And I— and I know you were doing what you thought was right, that's all you've ever tried to do..."
Scott noticed her hanging on the last words, "But you still need time." He nodded in understanding and look down to the ground, then back up with a calm smile to ease her guilty face; "I get it."
"You do?" Lois smiled.
"Yeah," he scratched the back of his neck. "I'll wait. I'd always wait for you, Lois."
That caused her smile to widen and, for a moment, it felt as if Scott and Lois were back to normal. The tension in the air wasn't quite so suffocating, and it wasn't just those two that could feel it; it was also the five teenage kids and veterinarian in the back room of the clinic, all waiting and listening for Scott and Lois to make up in the room over. At least, to a point that they were talking. It was going to make the next process a lot easier, if their friendship was on the road to redemption and recovery. As long as Scott and Lois were looking to repair what had been broken, then they could try and move on. They could all try and move on.
Slowly, Stiles peered around the side of the doorway. He looked around, as if inspecting for any damage Lois might have inflicted in her anger (he didn't doubt her to throw things at Scott) but was pleasantly surprised to see everything in one piece. Eyes drifting to the smiling pair, he rose a brow.
"You good?"
Lois and Scott shared a look, nodding.
"Yeah," she said. "We're good."
He smiled, "Good. Tension makes me anxious."
They both rolled their eyes at him fondly, turning around to grab more ice bags as he walked in and grabbed some too.
Together, as they should be, the three friends walked into the back room to join the rest of their friends. It wasn't perfect, nor was it a walk in the park, but it was better than before. And that was good.
It took a while to fill up the four metal tubs, but they made quick work with the motivation of finding their parents. Four lives were on the line, and if they wanted to save them, then they needed to go as fast as possible. If they didn't, they would lose them. Lois knew she needed to go fast; if she didn't, her parent count was going to go from one to zero. Lois would be parentless.
She has already lost one parent.
She couldn't lose another one.
Her father was her absolute world. Lois needed to this for him; she owed it to him, even if it was terrifying. He has raised her, he had loved her unconditionally, and she owed it to him to save his life if she could.
It wasn't everyday that Lois was told she was would need to die as a surrogate sacrifice in order to save her father, Argent, Noah and Melissa, and prevent them from becoming actual sacrifices. Maybe it would come as a surprise to most that Lois had never been told that, before. She had spent years running from alphas, saving the innocents of Beacon Hills, trying to survive in a world where her friends were werewolves, and banshees, and hunters. Her life had thrown her many hills to climb, bumps in the road, but none had ever been quite like this. Lois had never had to die. Not even once.
The surrogate sacrifices would be fully charging the Nemeton, in turn supplying it with power. Deaton had said that level of power would be like a magnet. It would start to attract the supernatural to Beacon Hills, more than their town already seemed to do on its own. They would be the kind of supernaturals that hunters similar to the Argents could fill pages of a bestiary with. Once again, over seventy years later, their little town was going to be a beacon. That would mean even more trouble, even more danger, and even more death than they had already seen. The teenagers would have their work cut out for them if they went through with this, and died to find the Nemeton and save all of their parents.
It was worth it.
Anything was worth it for her father's life — that was the mantra Lois chanted as she thumbed the photo frame in her hand. Deaton had assured that it wouldn't take long. Lois and the others would only be dead a matter of hours, it would be just long enough to find the Nemeton.
Although, that wasn't the part that Lois was worried about. Lois wasn't worried about how long she would be dead, or how long it might take to find the Nemeton. Nor was Lois worried about that little added risk of actually dying.
But, there was one tiny snag in their plan.
It was one that had the potential to make or break all their hard work, at the very last minute.
Because, if Lois couldn't go through with it, then they wouldn't find their missing parents. Jennifer would win, they would lose in more ways than one, and it would all be down to Lois Lane.
Because, while Lois could deal with potentially dying...
...she couldn't deal with water.
Deaton hadn't failed to inform them that the way in which they would die, would be the same way that Isaac earned back some of his memories of the old bank: in a tub of ice water, submerged, at a temperature that could lower their heart rate enough that they'd be temporarily deceased. It had already looked pretty traumatic in Isaac's experience, and he wasn't even afraid of water.
Lois was. Deathly afraid of water, even. She hadn't a single good or positive experience with water, not to her memory; her mother had drowned when she was a child and Lois almost had drowned, too. If that didn't scream childhood trauma, then she wasn't sure if anything would. Since that day, Lois had never gotten over it; the trauma was too much, and she had been too frightened to get into water, ever again. Little Lois had been too terrified to get into the bath for months, and their new house in Beacon Hills had to have shower conversion, or they wouldn't buy it. Of course, Lois wasn't afraid of baths anymore, but she had a funny feeling that getting submerged to her death was going to be a little harder to stomach.
Water brought back bad memories for Lois. Memories that she tried to forget, although somehow only ended up making more of.
Memories of her mother dying and it being her fault, memories of leaving Stiles and Derek in the pools and vulnerable to Jackson when he was the kanima, falling into the pool at Lydia's party and hallucinating her dead mother.
The last time that Lois had been in water, had been when Scott had to fish her out of the pool before she drowned. It wasn't much of a pleasant last encounter, nor was the time before that when her mother did drown, and she frankly never wanted to give either of them the chance to happen, again.
She didn't plan on letting history repeat itself. And, if there had been any other way of finding the Nemeton and saving her father, she would have passed up drowning in a heartbeat. No doubt. Lois and water simply didn't mix — they weren't compatibles entities, which was rather ironic considering her abilities. Actually, she had always found that very ironic. Being able to control the biggest of your phobias had to be some sort of metaphor, but Lois didn't have the time to find it, right now.
"Alright," Deaton spoke. "What did you bring?"
"Um— I got my dad's badge," Stiles thumbed the item between his fingers, hands shaky. "Jennifer kinda crushed it in her hand, so I tried hammering it out, a bit. Still doesn't look really that great."
"Well, it doesn't need to look good if it has meaning." The vet cross druid assured him kindly and honestly.
"Is that an actual silver bullet?"
Their eyes fell on Peter, who stood with red cheeks after having blurted out the question so abruptly as he stared at the bullet that Allison held in her hands. She didn't seem bothered by the abrupt statement, however; she was too focused on the bullet.
"My dad made it," she said. All of them listened closely, no one daring to interrupt her. It was something symbolic, that meant an awful lot to her and her father, and they respected that. "It's kind of a ceremonial thing," Allison explained to them, further. Unable to stop herself, Lois watched fondly. She was proud. "When one of us finishes learning the skills to be a hunter, we forge a silver bullet as a testament to the code."
Deaton nodded, "Scott?"
"My dad got my mom this watch when she first got hired at the hospital." He held up the watch and chuckled humourlessly, "She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever really worked."
The mention of his father made Lois' tummy turn. Her eyes fell upon Stiles, who was already looking between her and Scott with a guilty expression — Scott's father was back in town, and he had no idea. He hadn't been around when Lois and Stiles had lied to him at the hospital in order to cover for everyone else. Scott didn't know.
"Lois?"
Her head snapped up as Deaton's voice brought her out of her thoughts. She nodded, lamely.
"If I'm right, your connection to the Nemeton should aid you in finding it enough to find your father. You should be drawn to it, as if you're two magnets attracting each other." He repeated what he had told her earlier that evening, "But there's no harm in having a item to help you, in case you get lost."
Lois smiled bashfully, her eyes flickering to the frame gripped in her hands. She was squeezing it so hard that she thought it might break. If it smashed, Lois knew she would be able to buy it a new frame, but it still ached to think about. Even if it brought no harm to the picture itself, she still feared anything happening to it. While frames could be purchased again, that photo couldn't be. It was a one of a kind. A sacred gem. There was no recreating that picture, if something was to happen to it. Lois needed it, her father needed it, they both did. Baring that in mind, she released an anxious breath and slowly lessened her death grip on the picture frame.
"It's, uh—" she cleared her throat, "It's a picture of me, and my parents. Dad always said it was his favourite. He's not much of a materialistic kinda guy,"
"I'm sure that will do nicely," Deaton approved.
It freaking better!
She let out a shaky sigh and nodded, staring down at the photo intently. If her abilities couldn't pull her through, then she hoped this would.
"Your connection with the Nemeton may be stronger than we know of. So, your journey may be confusing for you, Lois. I can't be sure how this will pan out, as your case is different. The others will be actively searching for the Nemeton, while you might very well be drawn right to it." Thinking intently, Deaton tried his best to supply her with the little knowledge he had.
"And, if she's not?" Isaac asked.
"She'll have to search for it, but it may be more difficult." The man sighed, "We suspect the Nemeton had presented itself to you once before, but those memories have been suppressed. It may not want you to find it forcefully, and it might try to reject you." That wasn't very reassuring, and Lois felt her hands start to tremble at her sides. "None of us know what memories you might find in your subconscious, Lois. They could be anything. While you're on a search for the Nemeton, you'll be on a search for your memories too. I can only imagine that they'll be let out, and it'll be up to you what you do with them."
"What if I don't remember?" Lois croaked, pathetically. "What if I still can't remember, and I— I can't lead us to the Nemeton?"
"Then, we'll be there to help you." Scott assured. She looked at him and found comfort in his voice, just as she always did. Even if they weren't on the best of terms right now, he was still Scott. She trusted him with her life. "And we'll figure it out, later."
Her stare was skeptical.
"We'll figure it out," Luna repeated.
Lydia nodded in agreement, "We will. Promise."
It should have made Lois feel better. On any other occasion, it might have. But, as she stared at the tubs of icy water, Lois couldn't stop her body from trembling.
She was terrified. Absolutely terrified. Death was scary enough for Lois, but the idea of drowning was far worse. Imagining her head going under that water made her feel queasy and faint. Honestly, it felt as though Lois could drop dead by just looking at it. Her brain processed profanities faster than she could comprehend— thoughts that were all about drowning.
The longer she looked at the tub, the more dizzy she felt. Lois'd never been one to get lightheaded, not like Stiles, but water was a weak-spot in her confident demeanour. That was where she would crack. It was rare for Lois to show fear, she was usually the one at the forefront of a situation and taking it head on fearlessly, but the water... it had the edge, on this one. Like always, the fight between her and water was uneven. Lois simply couldn't get the memories of that day out of her head; they twisted and turned until her face was green from motion sickness, and she was gagging, and she was heaving at the images flashing right before her eyes, all over again.
As her head span, she stumbled. Isaac instinctively reached out to steady her but she flinched away from his touch. She couldn't stop herself — Lois felt suffocated. Smothered by guilt; the guilt she had felt everyday since it had happened.
Guilt that never seemed to go away. That followed her around as if it had become her shadow.
It was raw, and loud, and it demanded to be felt.
Lois squeezed her eyes shut, and a dozen images flashed by, like a movie playing on the backs of her eyelids. Her gameboy, the way she had ignored her mother telling her to sit back, her fingers just grazing the plastic, the metal on metal, the window smashing, the water, her mothers ghostly face. Leaving her mother behind was a permanent regret; it filled her with guilt: guilt for blocking view of the mirrors, and for getting out of the car, for not drowning with her mother so that she didn't have to die alone. It was a guilt for a mistake — for the world not killing Lois Lane, instead. She should've died, not her mother.
That guilt laid heavy on her shoulders, and transformed itself to fear. Terror. Horror. A crippling fear of being near water, having to be submerged in water, of drowning in water.
"Lois?"
She had thought she could do this for her father, for the other three missing parents, but it was all suddenly too much for her.
Lois couldn't breathe, was she already drowning?
Was she dead?
"Lois," Stiles gently tried to bring her back to reality. They were all watching her with concern, but none of them realised what was going on. No one other than Stiles, Lydia and Peter, whom were left with the task of calming her down. He had a feeling this would happen but he had been hopeful. Still, Stiles would try and bring her around as he always did — and he would do it again.
He edged forwards, "Lois, hey— just breathe, okay? You've got a hold on this. I know you can do it. We're not gonna let anything in there hurt you, nothing is going to happen." Stiles shouldn't have been promising, but he didn't care. "You can do this, I know it."
She shook her head in denial, hair flicking rapidly. As if able to sense Stiles getting closer, her eyes snapped opened and she stared up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Lois couldn't — she couldn't do it. Lois couldn't get into that tub and allow herself to be submerged under water.
She couldn't.
"I— I can't do it," she whispered.
"You can," Stiles tried, "I know you can—"
"No! I can't!" Lois' voice was firmer this time, and she took the moment of shock to look at her picture. She felt her chest constrict and struggle.
She couldn't do it, she couldn't do it, she couldn't do it.
"What do you mean?" Allison asked, downtrodden and broken looking. She didn't understand.
None of them understood, apart from Stiles, Lydia and Peter. It was a secret between them. No one else knew what Lois had been through as a child, what had happened to her mother, why it was just Lois and her father. Allison knew she has passed, but that was it. Not even Scott knew why Lois' mom wasn't in the picture, why she had never been for as long as he had known her. He knew that Lois was afraid of water — they all knew that, thanks to Derek's suspicions of her controlling the kanima, but no one else had any idea as to why. Why, why, why? Lois had kept them all in the dark; a regret that she was staring to feel encompass her. A regret that was going to pull her down and swallow her, whole.
"I..."
Her guilty eyes met theirs.
"I'm sorry."
In a fluster, she turned on her heel and rushed out of the room.
——
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