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.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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003.
SOUNDS LIKE
DADDY ISSUES!

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——

    "Hey, Lois Lane! Yeah— you!"

   The brunette in question crossed her arms, sending the man a nasty look she turned away from the two boys beside her and at him instead, "What?"

"Time to get your butt off my field, or run laps until you die! You hear me, Lane? Death!" Finstock instructed with a pointed finger, attempting to seem intimidating. As usual, he was failing, and she could only stare at him blankly.

   She could see him spit as he spoke, even from metres away.

   Gross.

"You can't do that, coach." Lois eventually responded. She then gave him a wry shrug, "Y'know, I'm not even on the team."

   He frowned. Finding truth in her comment, much to his dismay, he realised that he couldn't tell her to do suicide laps. Lois was, in a very annoying way, completely right. Coach then scrunched his face up, clearly unsettled by whatever form of thought-process was going on in his mind, before switching that expression to one that vaguely resembled curiosity.

    "Do you want to be?" He asked, "We know Greenberg sucks."

   Said boy glared at their coach, a pout taking place upon his lips as the rest of the players snorted in amusement. Even Lois got a kick out of the comment. Though, it wasn't as if any of the kids could blame Finstock for his harsh words — they were remarkably true, and it wouldn't have been the first time that an insult like that had been fired towards the sweaty boy. It wouldn't be the last one, either. He wasn't exactly popular amongst the team, not by any means. He did suck. Greenberg actually stank, both in body odour and in lacrosse. There was always that kid that never got picked to be on someones team first. Needless to say, that was Greenberg. In fact, no one would pick him for their team last, either.

    "I appreciate the offer—" rolling her eyes and smiling tightly, Lois shook her head. She crossed her arms over her chest, "—but no, thanks. I think I'd rather you punch me in the face, coach."

    "Well, let's get it over with! You want a piece of this?"

     "Not really."

    "Then shut your face and sit the hell, down!" Finstock shouted.

   Narrowing his gaze at the few of the team members that had laughed at her comment, the man nodded to himself when they silenced. But then someone started to snicker again, and that set the rest of them off, and soon the whole team were laughing in his face rather than warming up. He groaned in frustration and span on his heel, throwing his hands out to the sides of him as if he were a mad man — which, frankly, he was. Very mad, indeed.

    "God— why does no one listen to me, around here?"

   Observing his temper tantrum for a moment more, a pleased smile on her face, Lois turned back to face the boys that she had been speaking to before the rude interruption. Scott smiled softly at what she had said, refraining a laugh, while Stiles rolled his eyes.

   Lois and Stiles had only been at morning practise for ten short minutes when they had been tackled by the third addition to their trio: good old Scott McCall, who had been mumbling random utterances about more werewolves and how he could smell dog! It had been a bit odd, and certainly unexpected for seven in the morning, but it was nothing that the pair hadn't dealt with already. Everyday in Beacon Hills, since that night in the preserve when Scott had been bitten, something new seemed to be stirring. It had actually gotten rather boring, rather quickly.

"So..." Lois restarted their conversation with a fake smile that the boys decided not to comment on, "There's another one?"

   Scott nodded and peered around, as if trying to spot the second supernatural creature with his regular sight, "Yeah, it was a scent, alright, but I couldn't tell who it was. It kinda smelt like—"

     "Don't say Derek," Stiles sighed, "Please don't say—"

    "—Derek."

"Great! That's just awesome—!" Stiles scoffed, throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly. He huffed, and took his own turn to try and observe the field, even though he wouldn't be able to spot a werewolf from a mile away. "Another werewolf! That's just what we needed. How wonderful! Isn't that freakin delightful?"

   Lois snatched his wrist and yanked his arm down before it had the chance to collide with her nose, her teeth gritted. Sending a nasty glare his way, ignoring his muttered apology, she gave all of her undivided attention to Scott and heaved a sigh when she took in how confident he seemed to be. As much as she wished that he was wrong, Lois couldn't find it within herself to doubt him. This was Scott they were talking about.

   When had he ever led them astray?

   Though, part of her agreed with Stiles. It was true that they really hadn't needed another werewolf, at the moment, considering that they were already having to deal with the whole Lydia issue. It was hardly the right timing.

   They still had no clue what Lydia Martin could have been turning into, nor did they really want to know.

"Do you think it could be Jackson?" Lois asked in a hushed tone as her eyes travelled towards the pompous boy, whom ran up and down the field for his warmups. They knew that he had shown interest in the wolf life last semester, and Danny said he had been acting strangely over Christmas. "Did he even get the bite?"

   Scott shrugged, "I'm not sure, I mean— I don't think it's him..."

"But, you don't know?" Stiles finished, finally tugging his sleeve from the girl's grip. He looked around aimlessly, planting palms on hips, as he came up with a plan.

    "What if you can get him one-on-one? Would that help?"

"Yeah, I guess..." Scott replied.

   He raised a curious brow at the boy, unsure if he liked where this might have been headed. Even though they were best friends, it was hard to read Stiles at times. Especially when he grinned that devious grin, the same one that usually unmasked itself when he conjured a terrible plan. Scott found Lois' eye, who looked equally as intrigued as he did, and signalled for some help. But she had no idea either, and so Scott looked back at Stiles and decided to wait it out. They were going to find out what his plan was, eventually, likely when it went wrong. They always did.

"Okay, I think I've got an idea."

• • •

    "I'm a genius!"

   Stiles jogged back to the pair with a smug grin, clapping Scott on the shoulder. Lois hadn't a clue what he had said to Finstock, nor why he looked so pleased with himself, but she was positive that she did't really want to ask.

    "You are?" Scott frowned, "Why?"

"Because I told coach that you're switching with Danny for the day," Stiles said casually, not taking much notice of his confusion.

    "What?" The werewolf groaned as he grabbed his helmet, "But I hate playing goal!"

   Stiles let out an exaggerated huff that made Lois roll her eyes at him. He then spoke again, but slower this time, so that Scott could hopefully understand him. Sometimes Scott was a bit behind.

    "Remember when I said I had an idea?"

   Scott nodded.

   "This is the idea."

"Oh..."

"There we go—" the nerd sighed, acting as though his friends words had caused him literal pain. It was silly, really. Lois thought that Stiles was being a drama queen, as always.

   But Scott paused, "What's the idea?"

   This time it was Lois who groaned loudly, growing impatient with the both of them. She adored her boys, she really did, but it could be like pulling teeth! How either of them were functioning in this world, with their own tiny brains, Lois didn't know. They were similar to toddlers, most of the time — in fact, Lois didn't doubt that some toddlers were smarter than the pair before her.

    "Scott," she rubbed her forehead, "I seriously don't understand how you manage to survive without us, sometimes."

   He didn't get the time to retaliate or think of a good retort to the girls words, however, as Finstock began to shout his mouth off, as per usual. It took him blowing into his whistle at least five times to get the team rallied together, then he had continued to scream at them all for taking so long. The yells travelled the full length of the pitch, unfortunately not getting whisked away by the wind, and Lois was very glad that she got to retire to the bleachers while her friend had to endure that torture. She was glad that she had never signed up for a sport; it was treating her rather well.

"Let's go, let's go!"

    "Do we have to go out there?" Stiles sighed.

    "Better you, than me."

   Both boys shot her a glare.

    "Line up, losers!" Finstick yelled, "Lane, get off the damn field!"

   Lois scoffed and raised her hands in mock surrender, "Okay! Geez— don't stress so much! It's not good for balding men,"

    "Hey— I am not balding!"

    "Whatever you say, coach!"

    "Get lost!"

   She span on her heel and clapped both of her friends on the back, smiling charismatically while coach patted his head for bald patches, clearly offending by her words. She snickered under her breath and hummed, "Don't die, boys."

   Not bothering to listen to their mumbled replies, the girl shuffled over to the bleachers and watched Scott and Stiles run across the field and to their permitted areas. The thought of Scott playing in goal had made her cringe — let alone the idea of him playing in goal to take down the rest of the players and give them a good old sniff. Although, she did enjoy the pent up anger that the boys all released on each other during lacrosse matches — that much was amusing. But Lois wasn't too keen on her friends looking like utter idiots, if she were honest. They managed to do that to themselves, quite often. She wondered if she would be scarlet-nerded by them, one day soon, or if she would survive high school.

   Lois Lane was not looking forward to the following events at all.

"Come on!" Finstock yelled, "Make daddy proud!"

   The girl sent him a disgusted look, her nose scrunching in pure distaste at his profanities. If that was his role for the team, then man did the players have some serious daddy issues.

   Soon enough the game was in play, and it hadn't taken long for Scott to knock down the first guy that had tried to score. Only half way down the pitch and towards the goal, Scott had leapt out of his designated zone and collided with the player, and both of them had hit the ground with a smack! that made Lois grimace. She had recalled the time that Scott had messed up Jackson's shoulder last semester, which was bore haunting similarities to this.

"McCall!"

   The player shot up from where he was crouched over the other boy, "Yeah?"

"Usually, the goalie tends to stay somewhere within the area of the actual goal!" Finstock spat, raising a hand to his forehead and diminishing his voice to a whisper, "God...is that so hard?"

"Yes, coach!"

   Scott made his way back to goal obediently, but not before he had helped his fellow teammate off of the ground. He hated going against the rules but this was for the greater good — well, maybe it was for the greater good. They weren't all too sure, yet.

"Let's try it again," muttered coach.

   He waved a hand to signal them to play on, too done with life to even bother blowing the whistle. Lois wasn't too shocked at that.

   The team did as instructed — the same process repeated itself the way that it had done before, the only difference being Scott taking down a different player this time. Though, his yell of pain and confusion sounded identical to the last. Particularly when he had began to sniff him as though he were a dog.

   Which he was, technically, but it wasn't as if anyone knew that.

   Lois and Stiles definitely did, however.

   It was embarrassing to watch.

"What the hell, man?" Matt shouted, pulling himself from the ground with a look of disgust. The girl rolled her eyes at how dramatic he was being, and snorted when he nearly fell onto his face as he scrambled away from Scott.

   Lois had only seen Matt around here and there, never actually having spoken to the boy properly. They had made small talk in a couple or classes but that was it, really. All she knew about him was that whenever he was near, there was always a camera in his hands. She hummed to herself as she watched him; Lois would have been lying if she said she hadn't wondered what, or who, he was taking pictures of. She had seen some of his pictures in year books — nowhere near the amount she'd expected, seeing as he almost never put his camera down. Lacrosse was the only time.

   Scott shrugged his shoulders helplessly, walking away from Matt as quickly as he could and into the safety of the goal, "My bad, dude..."

"McCall! The position is goal keeper, not goal abandoner!"

   As the boy apologised yet again, Lois heaved a sigh. She ran a hand over her face and pursed her lips, watching closely as he had readied himself to repeat the mistakes, again. She briefly glanced at Stiles snd found him to be grimacing as well, wandering to the back of the line in hopes of making their plan less obvious. That, and he didn't really feel like getting pummelled.

   Lois wished that Luna, Lydia or Allison could have been by her side to ease the embarrassment of it, but Luna was basking in the sun and Allison couldn't be seen within a foot of Scott. Lydia was recovering from her nightly runs and her only other friends were out on the field. It seemed Lois had to go through it alone.

    "This was such a bad idea..."

   At the words, a certain blonde boy snapped his head to look at her, brows furrowed as he tried to figure out what she had meant by it. He pursed his lips upon noticing how exhausted Lois Lane had looked, but he brushed over it.

   While trying to decipher what she had said to be a bad idea, he found himself distracted and allowed his blue eyes to take in her appearance. He took his time in analysing each tiny detail that the teen had to offer — which happened to be a lot in his own, humble opinion. Lois Lane was terribly beautiful. She just was, and no one could possibly deny it. He would have been lying if he'd said that he hadn't ever thought so. But with beauty came unattainability, and Lois was exactly that. No one had ever scored her heart and likely never would. She was untouchable, really.

   He smirked. Would this change things?

Lois Lane.

   Feeling that someone was staring, Lois turned away from the pitch where her friend had just knocked over Danny Mahealani, and in the direction she assumed the stare was coming from.

   And damn, had Lois been correct. He was staring, alright.

   In one swift movement, the pair had locked gazes, neither one of them faltering as they slowly inspected one another. Lois knew who he was — she wasn't stupid, for he was the boy that worked with his family in the graveyard. He was the one with a pretty face, the one that had used to sit at the desk behind her in history class, Freshman year.

   Isaac Lahey, his name was, and if Lois were to be totally honest, she would say that he had grown up rather...terrifically.

   Sending her a smirk that could most definitely steal, break and fix any teenage girls heart, Isaac quickly turned his head back to face the commotion in goal. But, that smirk didn't leave his face and Lois noticed. She pursed her lips in thought, feeling curious.

   She had glanced at him for a moment longer than necessary, her eyes squinted, ignoring the warmth of her cheeks. Shamelessly trailing her eyes to observe to observe his lean body, it didn't take long for her view to be interrupted as Finstock shouted and then beckoned her towards him. She didn't move.

"Lane, Stilinski—!" He groaned, "The hell is wrong with your friend?"

   The pair turned to look at each other, to look at Scott stood in the goal, and then turned back to the man. Their synchronisation wasn't anything out of the ordinary, actually it happened all the time despite them not being twins, but it still creeped him out.

"Uh—" Stiles started, staring at Scott and puckering his lips in thought, "He's failing two classes, he's a little socially awkward—"

"—and if you look really closely, past the puppy eyes and pretty smile, his jawline's kind of uneven." Lois nodded to herself as she finished the list, "What else do you want to know, coach?"

   After a minute of observation, Coach nodded his head and let out a breath, "Interesting..." He spoke with a sigh, then clapped his hands, "Let's fire it up!"

   Scott and Danny exchanged a couple of words on the field, ones that seemed to confuse the current goalie at first, then they smiled awkwardly at one another. The two returned to their positions as coach screamed about the prospect of suicide runs, which none of them particularly craved. Lois merely rolled her eyes, once again — an action that she always happened to do whenever Finstock was around, or any member of the human species for that matter.

   When Jackson stepped forward, watching McCall with narrowed eyes, he soon decided that risking his star title (and his dignity) was too much for him to possibly handle. At least, that was what Lois had decided when he backed away from the pitch, "Uh— coach, my shoulder's hurting. I'm gonna sit this one out,"

   The man only grumbled an angry response and gestured for the next player to foolishly take on the player that was ruining his morning, while Lois and Stiles shared a look.

   Why didn't Jackson want to play?

   They couldn't decide.

   Brushing it off, Lois watched intently as Isaac Lahey stepped forward without a care in the world, or so he made it appear. The tall boy crouched down, holding his stick in the air and pausing for the dramatic effect, and launched his body towards the goal after scooping the ball into his net. He moved quickly, incredibly quickly, and Lois couldn't help but wonder how he had never been a noticeable player on the lacrosse team before. If this was how he'd always played, he was very close to being the best player next to Jackson, or even next to Scott. Her stomach turned as she thought about it, how hadn't they noticed him?

   But then the next few moments happened far too quickly for Lois to comprehend, answering her question in the mean time.

   One minute the pair of boys were colliding with each other, cracks and pops of bones and limbs echoing across the pitch upon impact. Then the following, both boys were on their knees, staring at one another incredulously, as though they couldn't believe what they had discovered.

   Lois let out a breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding, pushing herself to her feet in shock. She felt frozen as she stood staring down at what had just happened from the bleachers, her eyes almost bulging out of her head. The brunette took a moment to look away from the scene and instead at Stiles, whom just so happened to be looking at her with the same amount of worry. It was like looking into a mirror.

   She peered back down at the two boys, only to find that Isaac was already staring straight back at her. He looked confused and Lois could only watch emptily as he was soon pulled off of the field altogether, heading towards a bunch of police officers.

   It looked as though they had found the second werewolf that Scott was talking about. Oh, boy.

——

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