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——

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

( not my manip. )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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000.
AFTER
FINDING
LYDIA.
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——

     "He's been here all night?"

   Melissa glanced towards the doctor at her side, before turning her pitiful gaze back to the familiar boy that laid upon the waiting room chairs — dreaming about his girlfriend, or something to do with Star Wars, no doubt. His lips were slightly puckered and his eyebrows jumped, furrowed, and then repeated the same pattern as incoherent mumbles sounded from his mouth.

If she hadn't known Stiles Stilinski to an extent that he was like her second son, perhaps Melissa would have been concerned.

   Rather, she rolled her eyes at his usually strange behaviour not quite understanding why he was still at the hospital other than his previous obsession cross sudden friendship with the Martin girl...

That, and the fact that his girlfriend had dragged Lydia to safety that night at the Winter Formal, both girls caked in blood and not able to give much of a story other than a wild animal attacking on the lacrosse field. Luna Thomas had, understandably, gone on a much needed vacation over Christmas, after that. It was necessary.

But, she had no other conclusion as to why Stiles had occupied the waiting room for days on end — well, not until she took note of the girl zipping down the corridor with a sheepish smile on her face. Lois Lane had always been good friends with Lydia Martin.

Melissa had no doubt that the duo were present for identical reasons, being that they tended to come in a package deal. Where you got Stiles, you got Lois; and where you got Lois, you got Stiles. It was basic math. Two peas in a pod. Twins born from different parents. Hell, sometimes Melissa was convinced that they shared the same brain! They were a dynamic duo which turned into a trio when her own son was around. Though, she thought of them all as her own, really. So did their parents: they were all family.

Come to mention it, where was her son?

    "They—" her collage corrected, nodding his head towards the Lois to make her appearance apparent, "—have been here all weekend."

   Raising her eyebrows as the girl continued down the hallway and slowly paused in front of her, childishly twiddling her thumbs with a red blush grazing her cheeks, Melissa waited patiently to hear what she had to say. Her actions were recognisable. They occurred when Lois was embarrassed, or if she had broken something and didn't want to admit it — which happened quite commonly, when she was young. She and Stiles were kept away from ornaments.

"I, uh—" she stumbled awkwardly, wincing slightly before giving the woman a forced grin and producing 'word vomit' (which had also been common as a child and still occurred daily), "—someone broke the vending machine!"

   The McCall mother paused for a moment to try and take in what she had said, the near-shout having taken her aback only slightly. A sigh then passed her lips as she peered down at the girl with a pointed gaze, one that made Lois look down at the floor as to avoid all eye contact. She was acting guilty, already.

"Lois?" Melissa queried with crossed arms, "Did you break the vending machine?"

   It wasn't that Melissa was mad, not even disappointed in her if she were to be honest — for she could never really be mad at Lois Lane, even if she had tried — but it had been a long night at the hospital, and a certain hyperactive boy had already commented on a strange man breaking the vending machine when he had got up to get a light snack. Apparently he hadn't seen the man's face and left to find Melissa straight away to report the crime, but he had been wearing a dark mask. Did she believe him? No. Had she chosen to act like she had? Yes. Stiles had broken it. Of course Lois had to then go and do it too, without so much as a clue about Stiles' tragic ordeal while attempting to get candy. The two of them were far too alike sometimes, and it was rather terrifying.

   What was the bets of them both wanting Reece's? Scarily high.

   Lois pursed her lips, allowing her eyes to flicker towards the ceiling in thought. Her mouth opened and closed, much like one of a gormless fish, and her voice was high pitched.

"Well—"

   However, before the girl could feed the woman a crappy lie that vaguely consisted of a dwarf shoving the vending machine over in a fit of anger because he had wanted a chocolate bar that it didn't have, or something very similar to that, a deafening shriek echoed throughout the hospital halls. It had nearly knocked Lois straight over, the sudden shrill sound having shaken her right to the core.

Her thick brows knotted together, vision narrowing upon the door that held a certain strawberry blonde beyond it, as a pair of hands landed on her shoulders and swung her around in a midst of worry. She blinked once or twice, barely having registered the mass of hospital staff flooding into Lydia's room.

For a brief moment, she had panicked. But, upon seeing Stiles in front of her, Lois relaxed. Only slightly, but enough to breathe.

    "Lo—?" Stiles huffed out as his eyes scanned her body for any signs of possible injury. Upon finding none, just a pale face and shaky hands, he nodded to himself and muttered a string of words that she couldn't quite understand. Not that it mattered, anyway, considering that they had bigger things to worry about. Still, Stiles held onto her tightly until she answered him. "You okay?"

   She blinked, then nodded quickly, and allowed her reply to fall within a fairly flustered sigh. She wasn't sure, if she were honest, but she was in one piece, "Yeah— yeah. I'm good,"

   Without another sentence from either of them, Stiles grabbed her hand in his own and yanked her forward in a race towards the room, body swelling in blind panic. Lois remained close to his side whilst he swung the door open with his free hand, joining in with the hustle and bustle of doctors and nurses scanning the suite. It was a sight they hadn't expected.

"What's happening?" Lois mumbled to the boy she had known for years, watching the many people with a concerned gaze. It was then that she realised that within the flood of people, Lydia was nowhere to be seen, "Where's—"

"She's gone!" One nurse announced.

"What do you mean, she's gone?" A male retaliated, judgment lacing his tone.

"I mean that she's not here!"

There was a frenzy, at that moment.

Lois gaped as a round of doctors rushed into the bathroom to see if this women was right, leaving it with defeat. They rushed back and forth, all of it a blur.

   She recalled a couple doctors and nurses leaving the once occupied room, saying something about phoning the police and ordering an immediate search party for the missing girl, but she wasn't really listening. Instead, her focus was on Stiles as he had stepped forward, finally detaching their hands, and picked up a crumpled hospital gown from the bathroom floor. He said a low curse to himself. The teenagers shared a nervous look, their eyes wide in worry. Not only were they worried for Lydia, one if Lois' best friends on this earth, but they were the only ones who knew the true danger of the situation — for the public, also.

   They were the strict few that knew of Lydia's actual life or death scenario; that knew how she hadn't been attacked by a mountain lion at all, but bitten by a now-dead werewolf on the night of the Winter Formal. Lois and Stiles knew that she was going to be off turning into something, whatever that something may have been.

   Lydia Martin had disappeared from her hospital room and into the night. No one knew how she had done it, nor did they know why — only the two awkward kids in the corner had the faintest idea of what was to come. As they watched the night proceed and listened to the sirens sound, watched the many boys in blue roll into the room and given them descriptions on the missing girl, it was a silent agreement that they needed to get Scott. They were the only ones that could truly do something about it. They were the only chance of discovering her before anyone, or anything, else.

   From what they knew, the girl had changed. Lydia had turned into whatever alter-ego Peter Hale had cursed her with, and was now wandering through the night and at very high risk of hunters catching her.

Despite her wound having healed at human speed, clearly there was still going to be a very inhuman quality to Lydia Martin.

   In other words, Lois, Stiles and Scott were totally screwed.

——

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