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.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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041.
1, 2, 3, 4, 5.
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——

   After leaving the party in a hurry, actually seeing Matt with the kanima, and forgetting to find Lydia Martin — Stiles, Lois, Luna and Scott had ended up at the Stilinski household. Now that they knew who the killer was, it meant that they could put their brains together to try and come up with a way to convince Stiles' father that they were right. They couldn't exactly tell him that they knew who it was because they had seen him with the giant lizard that had been killing the people for him, or that there was even a giant lizard involved at all, but they knew that they had to.

   While Harris always had it out for the teenagers (excluding Luna and Allison who he seemed to be fine with) and being convicted for murder would really get him out their hair for once, that didn't mean that he deserved to go down for something that he didn't do. They knew that it would be wrong for them to let him be accused of murder, so they had to stop it happening while they still could.

    "So, this kid's the real killer?"

   Stiles nodded his head, "Yeah!"

   His father looked at the four teenagers and pretending to think about their claims, then shook his head, "No."

    "Yes!"

    "No," Sheriff Stilinski repeated, not believing his son and his friends for even a second. He wasn't sure where they had come up with this bizarre theory but he didn't want to listen to it, the police were already booking on Mr Harris.

    "Dad, come on!" Stiles groaned, flailing his arms about. Lois quickly moved aside so that he wouldn't elbow her in the face, and rolled her eyes while he continued, "Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So, all he had to do is look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

    "Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class." His father pointed out, which was a very fair point. He was right.

    "Alright—" Stiles muttered, "—okay, you're right. Sorry."

   Lois rose an eyebrow and crossed her arms, leaning against Stiles' desk where they were flicking through year books and trying to get his father to believe them. She hummed, "Then, I guess they dropped the charges against him?"

    "No— you know what? They're not dropping the charges," the man she saw as a second father shook his head, making her eyes go wide, "But that doesn't prove anything."

   Stiles and Lois instantly looked at each other in disbelief, the same expression upon both of their faces. As far as Noah was concerned, they were being dramatic as they always were. He knew that his son liked to play detective, and that he liked to bring Lois and Scott along with him (and now Luna), but that didn't meant that he was always right. They were all smart kids, kids that always seemed to know a lot more than they ever let on, but they were kids — in his eyes, none of them knew how the world actually worked. Their parents thought that they had no idea. But, really, they knew more than their parents ever would.

    "Dad—!"

    "Scott, do you believe this?" His father looked to the teen wolf, sighing.

    "It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just have to trust us." Scott responded, his voice sincere. His words seemed to sway Sheriff ever so slightly, especially when Luna nodded in agreement. She was a nice girl, down to earth, and the fact that she believed it was spoke louder than words, "We know it's Matt."

    "It looks like Harris, but it's not. Matt took Harris' car," Lois pointed out, moving so that she was stood up straight. She didn't want to be a detective, but this was something that she couldn't help but grow invested in. They knew it was Matt controlling Jackson, and she was ready to lay down facts. "He knew that if the cops found tire-tracks at one of the murder scenes, and that if enough of the victims used to be in Harris' class, they'd arrest him. Then, Matt would get away with it."

    "I don't know..."

   The man seemed to mull over the concept for a moment, lips pursed as he tried to figure out why these kids would be lying to him. They were good kids, ones that he considered to be his own alongside his son, and (despite the restraining-order fiasco with the Whittemore's) they had never purposely lead him astray, before.

   Maybe they knew more than he thought.

   Maybe he just needed to trust them, more.

    "Alright, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility—" He hurried to continued before they grew excited, "—but give me a motive. I mean— why would this kid want most of the two-thousand and six swim team, and its coach, dead?"

    "Isn't it obvious?"

   All of them turned to look at Stiles, brows raised.

    "Our swim team sucks!" The boy announced as though they were all stupid, "They haven't won in, like, six years—!"

    "Okay, we don't have a motive, yet—" Lois interrupted, not wanting her idiot of a best friend to make things worse, "But, I mean— come on, does Harris?"

   His father sighed, "What do you want me to do?"

    "We need to look at the evidence," Scott told him.

    "Yeah, that would be in the station—" Stiles' father responded sadly, "—where I no longer work."

   Lois frowned. She knew that Stilinski had been suspended from the station, but she was sure that they would have given him his job back, by now. It was unfair that it had been taken from him, and she felt awful because she knew that it was their fault. If they had stolen a police van and kept Jackson hostage, then he would have been leading the squad as always.

   So now, by showing him that they were right about who was the killer, they were going to make it up to him. They were right, he just had to let them help.

    "Trust me, they'll let you in."

   The man scoffed at his son, "Trust you?"

    "Uh— trust—" When he was about to suggest Lois, Stilinski shook his head. Stiles pursed her lips, "Trust...Scott?"

    "Scott, I trust."

• • •

    "It's two in the morning."

Noah Stilinski sighed, looking at the deputy on her front desk with a tight smile, "Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important."

"We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?" Stiles told his friends and his girlfriend, dragging them away from where his father could possibly hear them. They watched as he continued to win over the deputy, then turned back to one another.

"Why?"

"Because all the murders were committed by Jackson, except for one— remember?" Stiles helped him keep on track.

"The pregnant girl," Scott nodded, "Jessica."

"Since Matt had to kill her himself—" Lois continued to explain her best friend's point to the slightly more clueless teenager of the bunch, knowing that Luna would be following along just fine, without any help. She kept her voice low when Stiles' father turned back to beckon them, "—that means somebody from the hospital could've seen him."

Scott made a noise of realisation as they followed him into the back of the station, ready to sort through as much of the evidence as they possibly could. There had to be something that they could use to take down Matt, even just a second-long clip of him in the hospital, anything that could get him put being bars. The quicker that they managed to throw Matt's name in the dirt, the quicker that they could tell Derek's pack that Lois wasn't the one that controlled the kanima, and then they could figure out a solution on how to help Jackson. There was still a teenage boys life at stake here, and Lois didn't want to forget that.

So, as they spent an hours going through CCTV footage from the hospital on the night that Jessica was killed, Lois kept Jackson Whittemore in mind. She disliked the boy, everyone knew that, but he deserved to be saved from the life he was living. He was being forced to kill people.

With every second that they stared at the screen, finding nothing to incriminate Matt, Lois thought of Jackson. They were doing this for him; she was going to save him, even if it took all night.

Around an hour and a half in, Stilinski sighed and paused the footage. He shrugged his shoulders and clicked his neck, looking up at the teenagers around him, "I don't know, guys. I mean— there was a six-car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."

"Alright, just keep going." Stiles encouraged, "Look— he had to have passed one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica."

Luna nodded, "He has to be on the footage, somewhere."

When Stiles waved his hand encouragingly, Sheriff rolled his eyes and clicked play. They all watched intently, eyes glued to the screen, as several nurses and doctors rushed in and out of the halls. They moved from room to room, pushing along patients in wheelchairs and stretcher, and Lois even noticed the paramedic that had helped Danny when he was paralysed. But the longer that they watched, the more that Lois started to lose hope. There was no sign of Matt anywhere.

How else would he have gotten in?

"Oh— hold on, stop!"

   Scott suddenly lurched foreword, pointing a finger at the screen hurriedly. He turned to his friends and Stiles' father, eager for them to see, "Did you see that? Scroll back!"

Doing as told, Noah rewinded the footage until the boy told him to stop, again. The rest of them leaned in and squinted their eyes, looking at the same man in a leather jacket which his hood up that he had noticed. Lois' eyes widened, recognising the jacket almost immediately — it was the one that Matt wore everyday, including the day that he had asked her out.

"That's him!" She cheered, "That's Matt!"

Noah looked at her skeptically, "Lois, all I see is the back of someone's head..."

"Matt's head," Luna corrected.

"Yeah—!" Stiles nodded along, agreeing that it must have been him. Then again, he would have done anything to get Matt sent down. He had been right about it being Matt in the library, and now he was relishing in triumph. "I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium, it's weird—"

"Are you crazy?"

"Fine!" He defended their case to his father lamely, "Then, look at his jacket, huh? How many people do you know who wear black leather jackets?"

His three friends rolled their eyes, Lois tempted to smack the upside of his head. He knew people who wore leather jackets.

Derek's pack were the prime example that sprang to mind.

"Millions," His father answered, "Literally."

Lois nodded along with the man and leant back in her chair, knowing that their theory wasn't being proven the way that they had wanted it to. It was hard to justify what they knew without saying exactly how they knew it.

She pursed her lips and tapped her thigh, "Can we scroll on?"

"Yeah," Scott agreed, "There's got to be a shot of him coming at one of the cameras."

The sheriff huffed but continued, glad that the silence had returned while they were watching. His heart soon jumped out of his chest, however, when Lois shot out of her chair and slammed the spacebar on the keyboard. She looked closer at the screen and then backed away, standing victoriously as the rest of them leant in to see what she had found.

"See," Stiles boasted, "There he is, again."

"You mean, there's the back of his head, again." Mr Stilinski looked and sounded bored, not seeing why it was so important when it was the same verdict as before.

"But look," Lois shook her head, "He's talking to someone."

Scott nodded slowly, "He's talking to my mom."

   Her head perked up when she realised it was indeed Melissa McCall that he had stopped to speak to, and she turned to Scott with a confident facial expression. Lois elbowed him when he didn't moved to do anything, when they could literally try and bag Matt via phone call, "Call her."

    "What?"

   Lois repeated herself slowly and rolled her eyes at how slow he could be, "Call your mom! Talk to her, right now, and ask if she recognises him, or at least if she might have remembered what he looked like."

   He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled her number, all of them waiting patiently as the phone rang several times before Melissa answered. When she greeted him and asked if everything was alright, they all shot forewords in their seat and waited in anticipation as Scott briefly explained what was going on. His mother sighed through the phone and tried to recall the boy that he was on about, only to blow out another round of air in defeat.

    "Scott, you know how many people I deal with in a day?"

    "This one's sixteen," her son explained, "He's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager—"

   Stiles grabbed the phone, "He looks evil!"

   Lois snatched the phone back from him and placed it on the table, where it had been before, and gave him a shove. He groaned and turned to Luna, hoping she would help him, but the blonde merely scoffed.

    "I already talked to the police about this." Melissa told him.

    "Okay, mom," Scott clicked off of the call and took a photo of Matt in their year book, "I'm going to take a picture and send it to you." It was silent for a few moments while she received the picture and observed it, humming under her breath. They all waited patiently, "Did you get it?"

    "Yeah."

    "Do you recognize him?" Scott asked again, not wanting to rush her but needing as many answers as they could get. If they had any chance of stopping Matt, this would be it.

    "Yeah, I did." Melissa informed after a moments more thought into it. She sounded confused but told them what she knew, anyway, unsure of why, "I mean, I remember that I stopped him because he was tracking mud in the hall. Scott, what's going on?"

    "It's— it's nothing, mom." He assured her gently, picking up the phone and taking it off of speaker. Scott placed it to his ear and listened to something else that she said, shaking his head even though she couldn't see him do it. They said a couple of more things until he decided that it was time to get a move on,

    "I'll explain later, okay? I've got to go."

    "We've got shoe prints, alongside the tire tracks at the trailer site." Noah noted when Scott hung up.

    "And if they match, that puts Matt at the scene of three murders..." Stiles finished for his father, nodding to himself as they pieced it all together, "The trailer, the hospital, and the rave."

    "Actually, four."

   They all peered at his father, curiously.

    "A credit card receipt for an oil change was signed by Matt at the garage where the mechanic was killed." He explained, not having mentioned the information before as he had originally thought nothing of it.

    "What?" Luna's eyes bulged out of her head, "When?"

    The man carefully looked through the notes from that night and furrowing his brows in concentration, reading the times listed, "A couple hours before you two got there."

    "Alright, dad—" Stiles started, "—if one's an incident, two's a coincidence, and three's a pattern, then what's four?"

"Make it five," Lois corrected, gaining everyone's attention. They didn't what she had noticed and what they hadn't, and the brunette was suddenly under pressure. She pursed her lips and sighed, knowing that the situation would have to be sorted in one way, or another. It was serious, and it wasn't only for her sake — it was for Allison's, as well. Plus, if it managed to pile on another charge that made him guilty, it would be with it. "Add stalking to that list."

Sheriff quirked a brow, "Well, five is enough for a warrant."

   Stiles pounded his fist into the air enthusiastically and grinned, excited that they were finally going to be able to stop Matt, whereas Lois let out a sigh of relief. It was time for the group of teenagers to get this show on the road and save Jackson before the hunters got to him, first.

    "Scott, call your mom back and see how quick she can get here," Stilinski instructed, "If I can get an official ID, I can get a search warrant. Stiles, Luna, look through those files and see if there's anything else we can get on this kid."

   He turned to the last girl in the room and smiled softly, "Lo, can you go to the front desk and tell them to let Scott's mom in when she gets here? I'll need a statement from you, afterwards."

    "You got it." Lois nodded her head, "You'll need to talk to Allison, too."

   Before Scott could ask any questions, or anyone else for that matter, she turned on her heel, not wanting to linger for too long. The sooner this would get done, the sooner it would all be over. She would no longer be Derek's main suspect for controlling the kanima, they could help Jackson, and people would be safe. Matt would be behind bars, and she couldn't think of anything better.

   Frowning at the lack of deputies in the station, Lois pushed her way through the door and towards reception, her pace slowing when the woman was no longer there. The teenager girl looked around awkwardly and walked closer to the desk she had stood at a million times when waiting for Stiles' dad.

    "Hello?" She called out hesitantly.

   There was no reply.

    "Is anyone—?"

   When she saw the woman's body behind the desk, her neck sliced up and bloody, Lois let out a scream and shuffled back.

   A hand was quickly shoved over her mouth, a cool metal rim placed to her temple as someone held her to their chest. Lois swallowed harshly, squeezing her eyes shut as the person leant close to her ear, lips brushing the skin.

    "Not so fast, Lois."

——

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