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.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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006.
TAKING ONE FOR
THE TEAM.

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——

A huff passed the teenagers pink lips as her best friend finally exited Beacon Hills High and made his way towards where she sat, perched upon the bonnet of Roscoe — the very same place that she had been sat, for just over an hour.

Lois had been gracious enough to have waited for Stiles the whole time he had been in detention, considering that he was both her only way out of the premises and her best friends of years on end. She wasn't going to just leave him, he would have never let her live it down if she had. Plus, she and Scott were the reason that he had even been given detention. Someone had to take one for the team, after all, and seeing as Scott was the werewolf and Lois couldn't risk getting in trouble (thus potentially sending her father into a nervous breakdown) Stiles was the only remaining contender.

   There was no way out of it, this time.

    "Take your sweet time, Stiles— why don't you?" Lois called out.

   Her butt had gone numb twenty minutes into the restless wait, and her lack of patience had been a curse throughout the entire waiting-game that she had been forced to take part in. She just wanted to get into the jeep and figure out what Scott was up to, and how they were planning on helping Isaac.

    "Whilst I just sit out here...freezing my ass off!"

"Oh, yeah?" A scoff was Stiles' feeble response, far too irritated to think of a reasonable comeback, "And who was the one that got me into detention?"

    "Cry me a river, Stilinski!" The brunette rolled her eyes so hard, that she was rather surprised that they hadn't fallen from their sockets and tumbled down the street. His theatrics were very much unnecessary — as were her own, but that wasn't the point being made. The point was that Stiles needed to stop being such a cry baby one of these days; it was pathetic. Lois waved a hand, "Suck it up, and take one for the team."

Slamming the door to his jeep Stiles carelessly threw his body into the drivers seat. Lois followed his actions and clambered into the seat of her own, tucking her fists into the sleeves of her sweater as he started up the ignition grumpily. He seemed tetchy.

   Though, she wasn't very surprised. It was clear that detention had drained him. Harris hated his guts just as much as he hated Lois and Scott, and she doubted that the man had gone easy on him. He had taken the blame for rocketing a paper ball at his head, so she could only assume the worst ways that he must have spent his hour suffering.

Lois' finger tips may as well have been icicles. She was sure of it.

   The usually tanned skin had faded to a frosty white. Winter was still lingering in the air, and while it hadn't been too cold outside, she always found herself easily cold. Having a fairly small frame made it hard to keep warm, and when sitting outside for more than sixty minutes, it tended to get a little nippy. She'd get sick.

    "Harris literally just let me out of detention— literally! And he had my phone the whole freaking time!" Stiles muttered as he took the time to turn his mobile on. "I couldn't even text Luna!"

Lois knew that he was rather mad; actually, the brunette was very aware of it. Scott and herself had guilt tripped him into taking a detention for them, with a teacher that could only make his head explode, and the boys irritation was expected. Not to mention that texting Luna was how they had kept in contact while she had been away, so that was bound to have turned him sour. His girlfriend was important to him, very much so, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to survive if she hadn't been a phone call away. Taking away his phone had left him in the dark. There wasn't a chance that he would have left the room all rainbows and smiles — not, at all.

The brunette rose a brow, "The whole time?"

   He grumbled.

Watching as her friend unlocked his phone and scrolled through the recent messages he had received over the hour, groaning and reciting the words under his breath, Lois stayed fairly quiet. She knew that anything of any importance would had been directed through Stiles.

   Muttering and reading aloud had been a bad habit that Stiles had formed at a very young age; one that had often gotten him into trouble during various tests and exams. She used to try and cover for him for half of the situations he found himself in, saying that it was her who was speaking, just so that he wouldn't get in trouble, time and time again. Lois had told him to stop it, to save them both from being suspended, but he simply couldn't. So, she continued to tell teachers that it was her.

She was always willing to take the fall for Stiles — unless it was a detention with Harris. In which case, the teenager could take the blame and deal with it himself.

    "Ah, crap— we've got problems!" Stiles sighed, rubbing at his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

Lois paused, "What problems? Stiles—"

The faint ringing of a different phone had managed to cut off her words, however, and the chorus caused her to stop what she was saying. She scrambled through her bag in search of the item, knowing fully well it belong to her thanks to the ringtone, and Lois eventually managed to flip the phone open before it was too late.

    "Hello?" She spoke into the receiver, "Allison?"

    "We need to do something, right now."

    "What?"

It had only taken a second to confuse Lois. Had she just been oblivious, or had she simply not been informed of the entire situation going on, she wasn't too sure. Perhaps she had missed something? Either way, Lois was very lost.

Seeing her gormless state, Stiles snatched the phone from and put it on speaker, ignoring the harsh glare boring into his head.

    "What's going on?" He spoke up.

Allison sighed from the other end of the line, "My Dad and Gerard were asking me all these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter, and then they sent this guy out."

    "Wait— what guy?" Lois asked, feeling the smallest bit more aware of what was happening.

    "I don't know. He was dressed as a Sheriff's deputy..."

"A deputy?" Stiles echoed. He hadn't needed to ponder on the words for too long, "They're sending him to the station for Isaac."

Lois knew that was bad.

    "He was also carrying this box with something on it, like— um, like a carving, or something?" Allison breathed. From what the pair could tell, she had been running and now had come to a halt so that her attention was purely focused on them. "I think that's what it was."

Stiles leant closer to the phone, "What was it?

    "Hold on, hold on—" she mumbled, "It's in one of these books, I'm taking a picture." There was a moment of silence, the click of a camera, and then phone in Stiles' grip buzzed, "Did you get it?"

Both teenagers leaned in to inspect the photo that they had just received, nearly bumping heads on the way but neither too fazed by the movement. It was quiet until the picture had fully loaded, and then they both sighed loudly. Things had gone from bad to worse, in a matter of seconds. Stiles had been right in saying that he was headed to the station for Isaac — this wasn't looking good, at all.

    "Yeah, it's wolfsbane."

Allison sucked in a breath, "What does that mean?"

    "It means—" Lois sucked in a breath, "—it means that they're going to kill him."

It all seemed scarily similar to the previous Lydia situation, only a few days before. Yet another kid was going to die, if they didn't intervene. Only the pack of kids, as well as the group of hunters, knew exactly what was going on in their supernatural hometown. And they were the only ones who could stop it, the only ones that held the capability to prevent death. He was a kid, a fellow class mate, someone that they had gone to school with for years. Sure, maybe they didn't know Isaac very well, but they did know that they couldn't just let him die.

   Now, Isaac was caught up in the crazy world that they had all found themselves in. Full of werwolves and hunters. Isaac was one of them, now.

The pack wouldn't just let him die.

• • •

    "Hey—" Stiles beckoned into the receiver as the speed of his jeep dangerously increased, the vehicle bustling down the roads of Beacon Hills, "—did you slow him down?"

Lois naturally tightened the grip she had on her seatbelt, the skin of her fingers nearly losing circulation. Truth be told, the entire Saving Isaac plan had been enough to distract her from the pain she would usually feel on that very day, but that didn't mean that her subconscious didn't have a mind of it's own. At the rate Stiles was driving, she was still as terrified as she had been that morning.

    "You could say that."

   Lois could practically hear the smirk lying within Allison's voice and nearly chuckled, but the boy beside her didn't seem to notice.

    "Alright, well— uh, we're headed to the station, right now." He said, eyes flickering towards Lois for a second before his eyes had returned to the road. He would do this often, take a moment to check that she was alright, before pretending that he hadn't.

Truthfully, the completely human pair weren't very sure as to what they were going to do as of yet, nor how the situation was actually going to go down. They weren't wolves or hunters; and there was only so much that they could do right now. All that they were actually positive on, was the fact that they needed to get to Isaac's holding cell in the station before anyone else did. If the guy dressed in a Sheriff's costume could bring him any harm, they would lose a teenager that didn't deserve to die. So far, they had managed to get Allison to throw him off course, preventing him from reaching their shared destination before Lois and Stiles did.

   It was good, but perhaps not good enough.

After that, their plan was rather ominous and they were open to any suggestions on how to handle an angry beta on the night of the full moon.

Allison moved the conversation along, a hint of worry between the walls of her calm tone, "Where's Scott?"

    "He's at Isaac's house," Lois informed, relaying the information that Stiles had shared with her, biting down on her lower lip as the nerves floated in her stomach. It was hard to ignore the fear that was slowly dawning on her, especially with her mind envisioning many different, all very terrible, ways their evening could pan out.

All that the girl really hoped for, was that they would successfully save Isaac Lahey and make it out of this situation alive. Following that, she would take the long awaited visit to the graveyard and most likely cry herself to sleep before anyone else had noticed that she had been off that day. It was supposed to be easy for her, on the day that it was, but clearly the world has a different plan.

   Stress had been the last thing on her long agenda; really, she had began to wonder whether should have taken the day off, after all.

    "Does he have a plan?"

    "Yeah—" Stiles nodded, despite the known fact that Allison couldn't see him doing so, "—but not a very good one. And we don't really have time to come up with anything better,"

    "We haven't come up with anything, at all!" Lois muttered.

   She caught the urge to roll her eyes and instead concentrated on the lack of feeling in her hands. Would they make it out of this? Lois honestly wasn't sure, this time. Their plans were terrible, just stabs in the dark, and hunters were involved.

   They were so screwed.

Somewhere along the line, amongst the fast driving and the girls constant flow of anxiety, Scott and Lois had managed to pick up a certain alpha that they were not very fond of while on the way to BH Police Department. How they had found him, she wasn't sure, but she knew it must've had something to do with Scott. If Lois were to say that she was alright with the man that had succeeded in hitching a ride, she would be lying right through the skin of her teeth — in fact, she wasn't sure that she'd ever be okay him, or his existence, but thing always had the chance of changing.

    "Okay— now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox, in my fathers office."

Lois let out another childish whine, wanting nothing more than to run for hills and never return. How the hell had they managed to come to this?

   "Anyone else think that this is an awful idea, and we're all going to die?" She said to no one in particular, crossing her arms over her chest and reclining where she had recently been shoved into the back seat to make room. Lois stared at the police station, at Stiles, then at the trespasser, and huffed again.

   Apparently werewolves got priority seats.

   She could have sworn that was old people.

Derek whipped round to glare at her for the up-teenth time, an irritated look in his face, though he had failed to intimidate her, yet again. She had grown used to his meaningless death stare a long time ago — months ago, when they all thought he was trying to kill Scott, if she were to be exact — and it really didn't faze her anymore. She had seen scarier things, like the aloha and Kate Argent dying right before her very eyes, so Derek Hale has gotten pretty old pretty quickly. For Stiles, however, she couldn't exactly say that same. He still pissed his pants every time the man was present. All he had do was breathe.

    "Hey! Don't make him mad, Lo." Said boy panicked, sending the girl his own look of annoyance. She scoffed at his attempt and allowed him to continue, "Really, the main problem is getting past the front desk."

Derek nodded and opened the car door, "I'll distract her."

    "Whoa, whoa— you?" Stiles gawked, gripping onto the mans leather jacket, his eyes widening at the act of sheer idiocy. "You're not going in there!"

It was silent, Derek raising a brow and giving the boy a very rehearsed threatening look that Lois would have do learn one day. His eyes flickered from his jacket to Stiles' hand, then to his face. Whatever he had done, it had immediately caused him to let go of the clothing as if he'd been burned.

    "Yeah—" he said, "I'm taking my hand off!"

    "I was exonerated." Derek said, sweet and simple, as if there were still no remaining problems at all.

   Which, actually, there definitely were. Several, actually.

Lois snorted from the back seat, the chortle being rather un-lady like. She didn't really care, though, and continued to snicker at his words. He really didn't understand the law, "So? They still think you slaughtered your sister, dude. You're still gonna be a person of interest, in there."

    "An innocent person."

    "An— you? Yeah, right!" Stiles threw both hands into the air, slamming them back down onto the wheel with as much force as he could muster. If he had been trying to anger Derek further, he was succeeding.

Another glare was all it took for Stiles to crack, and Lois had never felt quite so ashamed of their friendship. He'd practically squealed like a pig!

    "Okay— fine. What's your plan?" He asked.

Derek looked at him as though he were stupid, "To distract her."

    "Uh— no." Bemused by his answer, Stiles began to shake his head furiously, clearly not liking his vague attitude towards it at all. Lois on the other hand, wasn't too surprised by it. Derek Hale had always been one for mystery, an enigma, and she suspected he was quite good at making everything up on the spot. They had almost believed him on a lost of things, so she didn't think it would be any different for people who had no idea about the supernatural at all. What would they expect? Nothing. But Stiles pressed on, "How? By punching her in the face?"

A low laugh bubbled from Lois' lips.

    "I think he's more of a ripping her throat out with his teeth kinda guy." She recited, "Am I right, Stiles?"

Derek's lips twitched slightly, the corners rising by only a minuet amount, but she had seen it. It had only been a faint smile, but it had sure as hell happened alright, and the girl was forced to do a double take. Lois had finally amused sour-wolf; Derek Hale, the man with a miserable life, who didn't smile at anything. She had made him smile. And it was undoubtably the biggest achievement of her sixteen years, so far.

Stiles rolled his eyes, embarrassed.

    "I'll distract her—" the werewolf spoke slowly and patronisingly, like he was coaxing a young child, which he might as well have been really, "—by talking to her. How about that?"

    "Okay, alright. Give me a sample— what are you gonna open with?" Stiles asked but was only greeted with a blank stare. He took the response and rolled with it, very unconvinced that this was a good idea. "Dead silence? Yeah, that should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

    "Well, I'm thinking about punching you in the face."

Lois pursed her lips and pressed her thumb on top of them, trying to form a barrier to prevent her laughter. Perhaps Derek was growing on her because frankly, these days, he didn't seem quite so bad anymore.

——

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