005.

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——

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.*・。. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*・。.
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005.
HIDING, FINDING, SIGHING.

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——

   "His Dad abused him?"

     "That's what they're saying..."

   Lois paled, "And they think that's Isaac's motive?"

Scott nodded his head once, confirming her words. It was quite a morbid conversation to listen in on, and he found the level of detail he has heard to be unsettling, but he eventually leant away from the door to the new principal's office with a better idea of what was going on. He hadn't failed to take note of the anger that smothered Lois' tone of voice but he chose not yo mention it at that moment in time — he could interrogate her later, if he felt like it. It was only humane to be offended by the amount of abuse Isaac had suffered in his life, and he was equally as disgusted by it, but Scott felt like there was more to it than that.

   The kids barely knew Isaac Lahey. There had to be a reason why she cared so much.

"Yeah," the boy sighed heavily, glancing back at his friends as they settled into their seats away from the door. Scott grimaced at his next words, "And Jackson's telling Stiles' dad that he'd seen it."

   "But he did nothing?" Practically seething, Lois fidgeted around in her chair. At first, Scott was hesitant to tell her that her guesses had been correct in fear that she might have burst into the room and throttled Jackson to death, but he obliged with a shameful nod when she glared, "What a jackass—!"

Stiles absently grinned to himself and snorted, "Jackass..."

   Both Lois and Scott sent him strange stares.

    "Get it? Like Jack-ass? Jackson, asshole?" He quickly silenced at the sight of Lois' stink-eye, one that had been terrifying him for years on end, "No? Ah— okay."

Lois muttered a few colourful words under her breath, directed now at the boy to her left as well as the idea of Isaac's own father beating him, and at Jackson not mentioning the teens suffering to anyone. Frankly, all of it disgusted her. (Well, apart from Stiles' stupid babble. It wasn't that deep, honesty. That usually happened far too often to really annoy her anymore.) It wasn't fair.

   It wasn't fair that Isaac Lahey had been made to suffer over the years, and that no one had known. The only person who did know hadn't done anything to help him in the slightest — the thought made her feel sick to her stomach. She had always known that Jackson Whittemore was a horrible person, but had never thought he was that horrible. There had always been a small part of her hoping there was at least a shred of human decency left in the boy, that he was the hidden kind soul Lydia Martin had spoken about for hours on end and fallen in love with, but it seemed that there was not a single good thing left about Jackson Whittemore. He'd shaped into the nasty piece of work that everyone thought he was; they had been right about him, all along.

   As for Isaac's father, that was a different story. Lois could not decide who was worse: the abuser, or the one who hadn't told.

   She quickly settled on the abuser.

If she were honest, the brunette probably wouldn't have blamed the new beta if he had, indeed, murdered his father on that night. The man was ruining him. He was poison. What kind of father did that? Caused harmed to the son they were supposed to look after and care for? It was sick. All of it.

   Lois felt a sudden guilt wash over her. No one deserved a life like that, let alone it being the boy that sat behind her in History for a whole year; a boy who had said nothing. Isaac Lahey had endured endless pain and fear, yet remained sitting in silence. She'd always wondered why he was so quiet — it was because he was scared. He had been terrified out of saying a single thing. In that moment, Lois regretted not trying to speak to him more often. She assumed that he was an introvert, and done nothing to help him.

   Perhaps if she had spoken to him more, if they had all spoken to him more, he wouldn't have suffered for quite so long. Or, maybe he would have. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything.

   They would never know, and that killed Lois inside.

It wasn't fair. Not a single bit of it. And, had she known about the predicament, Lois would have done something to help him a long time ago. It would have been something crazy and slightly irrational, but she would have done it, nonetheless. He needed it.

   Whole Lois couldn't play god, she couldn't stop herself from wondering whether it was better that Mr Lahey was dead. No one deserved to die, not really, but if anyone was going to go, she had much preferred it to be abusers — Isaac deserved a life free of the man who had tortured him. There and then, Lois decided that it wouldn't have been so bad if he had killed his father. It wasn't her place to forgive him or his crimes, but she would.

   "Lo, I think you should go back to class."

    Said girl whipped around, staring at him absurdly.

    Stiles was quite serious now, no joke or laugh in his tone as he spoke, "I don't want you to get in too much trouble, not today."

From their right, Scott muttered a query about what the day was and why it was so important — being one of the several friends who remained clueless about Lois' past life before moving over to Beacon Hills — but was ignored. He didn't taken offence to it, for he knew it was best to stay silent as she scoffed.

    "Really?" Lois spat, "Says the boy that got me to throw a ball at Harris' head!"

   "I wanted you to do it, not get sent to the principle for it!" He huffed, throwing his arms into the air in a Stilinski-like fashion. His argument was a bit illogical but he pushed on, "But Scott just had to go and point at you!"

    "Wait—" The puppy-eyed teen frowned at the pair. He wasn't sure how he had been dragged into it, "What? Why's this my fault? I thought that was the plan—!"

Stiles hushed him by shoving a hand in his face and slapping his cheek lightly, much to the boy's dismay. But Stiles' attention was purely focused on the short girl who sat with a childish pout on her lips. It made him feel bad, lecturing her, but he was only trying to look out for her. Lois was his best friend and even if she didn't want his help, she was going to get it. Because that's what friends did.

    "You don't need to get in trouble, okay?" He told her, his tone softer this time. "Do you want a call home?"

It was then that Lois paused, her brain contemplating the many scenarios that could happen if her father was to receive a message from the principle about her behaviour. He wouldn't be impressed, that was for certain, and it was true that he didn't need the extra stress on the a day like this. Any other day, it wouldn't have been as bad — it would have been expected, almost — but today was out of bounds. Stiles was right, as much as she hated to admit it; the boy had made a very good point and now Lois was worried that if he got a phone call, her father would break. The man was strong, but he was still grieving.

   "I'll make sure that he doesn't call home," she assured the pair after a brief silence. It didn't seem to satisfy Stiles, but Scott took her word for it. He was confused, but he would try to help where he could. "I've gotten my way around it before, haven't I?"

   "Lois—"

But Stiles was interrupted, however, as the door to the office swung open and Jackson Whittemore strolled out. Lois glared at him with ferocity, but she was pulled out of it when a hurried gasp came from Stiles. He sprung forward, yanking her jacket from her lap, and lamely used it to shield himself from the sight of his own father, whom had followed the lacrosse stars walk in a less vain and self-confident manner. Lois rolled her eyes.

Out of habit, the Sheriff glanced around the waiting room by the office and immediately caught sight of the Scott and Lois. He lightly cursed to himself, doing a double take almost instinctively; wherever they were, his son was never far behind — if anything, he was always the leading role of getting them into trouble.

   He had no doubt that Stiles was somewhere to be found, and wouldn't be hard to find. And he had been correct.

   Noah's eyes flickered towards the floating jacket.

With a sigh, he smiled at down at the two kids that returned the same gesture awkwardly. He made an effort not to register his son, hoping to save himself from embarrassment.

    "Hi Lois, Scott."

    "Hi, Uncle Noah." Lois sent him a small wave, while Scott nodded with a forced smile.

   Stiles he peeked out from behind her jacket, watching his dad walk off without even bothering to try with him, and made a noise of relief. While Stiles would call it an achievement, Lois and Scott would call it pitiful.

With a scowl, Lois snatched the hoodie away from his dirty paws and placed it back in her lap. Snickering to himself, Scott leant away from where a bicker would no doubt ensue, happy to watch it go down and not get involved. They often took it in turns to tell Stiles what an idiot he was, particularly when in trouble with his father, and he had taken the role last time.

   Lois was always better at it, he thought.

    "What did I tell you about hiding behind my things when your dad's around?" She hissed and Scott snorted at the scolding. It got him a glare but he happily took it, "Muscle up, Stilinski!"

   "Don't tell me what to do, Lane!"

   "Don't tell you what to do?" Lois echoed, making Stiles roll his eyes. "How many times today, have you told me what to do—?"

    "That's not—"

The immature bickering came to an abrupt halt when the door to the principle's office swung open, revealing a man whom the teens were very familiar with — unfortunately. Their pupils dilated, mouths hanging open and ready to catch flies, as they registered the new information that had been sprung on them.

Since when had Gerard Argent been the new principle?

   Was that even allowed?

This was bad, very bad. Lois' eyes flickered to Scott, only to find him looking at worried as she was.

   Chuckling, the elderly man smiled a little too nicely, the action already managing to put Lois on edge. Even at the funeral for his own daughter. If he been intending on being incredibly creepy and intimidating, then had definitely succeeded.

   "Kids," he gestured towards his office, opening the door by a quarter of a fraction. He stood back and waved, "Come on, in!"

Lois couldn't help but wish that she had taken Stiles up on his previous offer of leaving, now. In fact, she was beginning to regret everything.

Although unsure of what it was exactly, there was definitely a thing or two about the oldest Argent that was extremely unsettling to Lois. During Kate's memorial service he had been nice enough, but the way that he had spoken and acted had made her stomach churn. Lois was a firm believer in intuition and she always tried to listen to her gut feeling, and since meeting him her gut had been telling her to stay clear of the man. There was an aspect about him that was off — other than being a hunter, and slicing werewolves in half, that is. There was something else. She just couldn't quite put her finger on it. He was weird.

The girl slowly followed Stiles' lead and subconsciously stepped closer to him as she walked, quickening her pace to stay at his side. Upon taking a seat on the opposite side of Gerard's desk, Lois was sure that she grabbed the seat in between the two boys. Perhaps it was just paranoia, but having some form of safety precaution made her feel better. Even if it was for danger that likely wouldn't occur.

Scott quickly noticed the anxiety emitting from Lois and just one look at her face showed him how uneasy she felt. He subtly gave her arm a nudge with his elbow, offered her a gentle and rather breathtaking smile, and she immediately felt better. Scott wouldn't let anything happen.

   She was safe with Scott. They both were.

   Feeling her stress lessen, Scott let his gaze return to his secret girlfriend's relative, hoping that he wouldn't die in the next few moments. It wouldn't have been nice if the man discovered that he was the werewolf supposed to have been killed months ago.

Gerard scanned through the folders of student information that sat on his desk, eyeing the three students as he studied the facts.

    "Scott McCall," he called, making the boy jump. "Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete?"

He nodded, the stray strands of hair from his new quaff swaying slightly as he did so. It was a new haircut that Lois had convinced him to get after he and Allison 'broke up' — she said it would he more convincing to the world if he did something drastic to his appearance, apparently people did that after breakups, and she'd been telling him to cut his hair for a while. Apparently he needed to have a werewolf glow up, what ever that had meant. Scott had a feeling that it was only because she wanted him to look like Derek Hale, who was an asshole, but an attractive one at that.

   Hardly able to breathe, Scott let out a faint "Yeah."

"Mr Stilinski," Gerard addressed, watching as the next teenager looked up when mentioned, mouth shape. He pulled his hands away from his jacket zip and nodded, "Perfect grades but little to no extracurriculars..." he pondered aloud, "Maybe you should try lacrosse?"

Stiles shook his head.

    "Oh, you see, actually I'm already—"

   Whether Gerard was messing with him or not, he wasn't sure. But, either way, he moved on.

   "And Lois Lane...?" the man paused and rose a brow as he glanced at the girl across from him. He seemed to be questioning the files in his hands. She sighed in annoyance, already knowing what he was about to say before he had even parted his lips. It was not the first time, and it wouldn't be the last. "Tell me, Lois. Is that your real name?"

   "Unfortunately," she said, the next line almost feeling rehearsed over the years, "My parents liked comic books."

He chuckled, "I see."

   She didn't think he did see, at all.

After a moment more of reading up on her, the new principle nodded his head and smiled in satisfaction. Her report had pleased him, quite clearly, and she felt a bit better about the situation.

    "A great student, wonderful grades and a member of the debate team." He read out with pride, "I am impressed, Miss Lane."

Not knowing what to say, the girl simply smiled and hoped that her discomfort hadn't been too noticeable. She wasn't planning on correcting him at all, despite his review being incorrect. Lois had joined the debate team, that much was true, but it hadn't meant that she actually went to the sessions or meetings. Instead, she paid a freshman to mark her as present each week. It made her look much better than she was — the key to her life, really.

   "Hold on, Lois— you joined my granddaughter to the funeral, didn't you?" Gerard spoke out of the realisation, sending her an extra smile when she nodded. He turned to Scott, "And you're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter, correct?"

Scott's breathing hitched in his throat as he looked to his friends in pure panic. He contemplated his options for a minute and then nodded, shook his head, then nodded again before attempting to form a remotely coherent sentence. Which, wasn't ever very easy for Scott, let alone when he was worried this man would kill him.

    "We were dating, but not anymore." Scott said, "Not dating, not seeing any of each other or doing anything with each other—"

It was silent for a moment.

    "—at all."

Lois sighed, refraining herself from smacking the boy upside the head. Was he really expecting Gerard to believe that? Really? No one on their planet, or in any other solar system, would have been naive enough to believe that. It was pathetic! Scott couldn't lie to save his life; she wasn't sure how Allison's parents hadn't seen right through him, from the very start.

"Way to be obvious, wolf-boy..." Stiles sighed, only just loud enough for Lois to hear. She couldn't agree more.

Gerard shook his head calmly and even let out a laugh, "Relax, Scott! You look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth."

The brunette girl furrowed her brows at his strange analogy and shifted in her chair. She was confused. The man on the other side of the desk was crazy — she had already come to that conclusion.

  Nodding, Scott cleared his throat, "Just a hard breakup."

"Oh, that's too bad. You seem like a pretty nice kid, to me." he stated, sending Scott a patronising grin. The boy smiled awkward and bashful, nodding in an attempt of gratitude, "Now... listen, guys. YesI am the principle, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."

With a snort, Stiles barked a laugh, lounging back in his seat.

    "Is that so?"

Ignoring him and acting as though he didn't even exist, which was an easy task for most people, Gerard continued with the prior speech. Lois was convinced that he had planned it prior.

    "However, this being my first day, I do need to support my fellow teachers. So, unfortunately—" Gerard faked a sigh and folded his hands together, "—someone is going to have to take the fall, and stay behind for detention."

Two pairs of eyes immediately found their way to the Stilinski boy, innocently blinking at his clueless form.

He spluttered, "Really?"

——

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