⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
——

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

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

048.
NAME OF THE GAME.
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

——

   It seemed that as soon as Scott was finally on the pitch, he was right back off of it again.

Now that Isaac was out, the other team had taken their chance to play rough. Every Beacon Hills player had been beaten to the ground at least three times each, and it was getting pretty ugly. With only five minutes left on the clock, they were going to need one hell of a miracle in order for them to bring it back.

It didn't help that now he had been allowed on the field, Scott had decided to disappear. He had vanished into thin air, leaving the time with a kanima and Stiles as their only hope. In short, it wasn't looking good.

"McCall!"

Coach blew his whistle and continued searching for the boy. He looked up at Lois, "Lane! Where's McCall?"

She shrugged her shoulders and sent him a clueless expression, genuinely unaware of where he could have ventured off to. After he had gotten onto the pitch, Melissa had dragged Lois back up to the bleachers where the nurse had taken a look at her hand, and her father had lectured her on punching rich kids when she already could have received a restraining order — both were expected. But it had meant that in the hustle and bustle of the game, Lois had barely noticed that the teen wolf had scampered off to who knows where. Funnily enough, she didn't have a Scott-tracker.

The man groaned, blowing his whistle again.

"McCall—!"

Lois pulled out her phone and checked her messages, just in case she had received any texts from the co-captain and where he had run off to, but there was nothing. No new messages.

Sighing, the brunette slipped the phone back in her pocket and winced as another kid went crashing down, and then another, then another, and another. Each time she cringed even harder, as did her friends and family around her, but only did Lois cringe the hardest when the ball rolled across the pitch and stopped right in front of Stiles' Stilinski's feet.

"Oh god—" Lois covered her eyes, "I can't look."

Sheriff nodded his head in agreement, "Oh, crap. Tell me when it's over."

Stiles looked down at the ball and then around him, as if he was expecting someone to knock him down and take the ball before he could mess it up. But when he realised that people were waiting for him to pick it up and run, Stiles did just that.

He screamed as the other team chased him, the dust picking up by his feet and causing him to stumble. Stiles kept looking back behind him, yelling even louder when he saw how close they were to breaking all of his bones, and he sped up a little bit. The boy skidded to a halt when he reaches the goal and panicked; there were at least fifteen boys chases him, all of whom were stronger and taller than he was, and he hesitated.

Chances were, the goalie would catch the ball or he would completely miss the ball. It was either that, or he could have chosen to die trying. Why did the latter seem so appealing?

It felt like years that he had stood there. Lois eventually moved her hands away from her eyes, blinking in shock when she saw that he was still in one piece. She looked between him and the rest of the players, those on the opposite team, and then back to Stiles. While Lois like to make digs at him for sitting on the bench, she knew that her best friend wasn't the best player, but he also wasn't the worst. Stiles had been practising a lot. He had enough time to at least try and make the shot and seeing as this was one of the only chances he would have on the field in his life time, she was adamant that he would make the most of it.

"Stiles, make the shot!" She yelled, cupping her hand around her mouth. He looked up at her in panic, "Shoot it!"

   Stiles span around awkwardly, too scared to shoot incase he messed it up. There had been a lot of things that he had messed up lately, or not been able to do. He hadn't been able to help his father of any of the parents in the station, and he hadn't been able to stop Matt before anyone got hurt. Lacrosse was just another thing that he hadn't been able to do; he couldn't do it.

    "Stilinski! Shoot it!" Coach called out, blowing his whistle as the other team drew closer to the boy. He stood up and waved his hands. "Shoot the ball! Shoot it, you idiot!"

    "You can do it, Stiles!" Lois encouraged, "Shoot!"

   Could he?

   Time was ticking and the team were nearing, and Lois could see the fear in Stiles' eyes from where she sat. He didn't believe that he could do it, in fact he thought that he could do anything but make the shot. When he had heard his girlfriends voice in the crowd, however, that seemed to change.

   Luna jumped up from the bench, "Shoot it!"

   And he did. Stiles snapped out of his terrified daze and shot the ball, and he did what had seemed liked the impossible: he scored.

   The crowd went wild. Lois threw herself out of her seat and stood on top of it, her hands in the air as she screamed at the top of her lungs. Lydia and Luna bounced around squealing while her father, Noah and Melissa cheered as loudly as they could, pride on all of their faces. Stiles seemed confused when the team ran up to him and everyone called his name, but then he quickly understood why. He stared between the goal and his stick, and frowned.

    "I scored a goal?" The boy rose his eyebrows, his body shaking as the team patted him on the back and hollered. Stiles' jaw dropped and he threw his stick above his head, mirroring the way that Lois' hands waved. "I scored a goal— I scored a goal!"

   The streak seemed to continue as the team returned to their starting positions and the whistle blew. Stiles was off and running, a new found confidence within him. The team actually passed him the ball and cheered him on, supporting him as he mustered up the guts to tackle the opposition and finally get stuck in.

While he had been on the team for years, he had never felt apart of the team.

   He had always been the outsider, up until now.

   One goal turned into two, and then a third. It seemed that each minute passing till the end of the game was consumed with a successful shot and a yell of Stilinski!

   Lois couldn't believe that her best friend had finally come out of his shell, finally being good at the one thing he had always wanted to be good at, for as long as she could remember. When they were little she would pretend to be interested in lacrosse for his sake, and he was old enough to get his first lacrosse stick, she and Scott had spent hours in the backyard helping him practise. Perhaps that was why she disliked the sport, but always managed to find it within herself to put up with it. Lois had gotten so used to the boys making her help them train that when they had started going to tryouts and games, she had been able to block it out. Half the time they were both on the bench, but all of that changed when Scott was bitten.

   Now Scott was co-captain, and Stiles was actually on the field. And he was winning. It wasn't a werewolf playing, not a lacrosse god that had the genes for succeeding at lacrosse in his blood. It was a human; it was Stiles. The boy who had wanted to be apart of the team for years, the best friend that had kept Lois up at night rambling about he didn't want to sit on the bench, anymore.

   Stiles was out there, in the championship game, and he was winning. She had never felt so proud in her life.

"Thirty seconds left," Lois muttered to herself as she watched Stoles grab the ball. He scored once again, causing the crowd to roar as the time ticked down. The team jumped with one another, and Lois smiled in disbelief, "We might win this thing."

By this point, they had all forgotten the odds of Gerard bringing hell upon them all. Lois, Luna and Stiles had forgotten all about it. So when the last ten seconds ticked down, and Scott pushed his way through the crowds, they hadn't expected anything. Instead, they had screamed when the clock hit zero and Beacon Hills had officially won the championships.

   All because of Stiles Stilinski.

    "We did it!" Coach cried, "We won!"

   Lois clapped her hands as she screamed in joy, actually liking the sport for the first time ever. It was hard not to like it when your best friend saved the team's ass.

    "Yeah!" Stiles hollered, dancing around with his teammates and chest bumping several guys he'd never spoken to before.

   He looked around while holding onto his helmet, smiling widely as he looked around for someone in particular. All it had taken was a playful shove from Lois and Lydia, and Luna took no time in rushing down from the bleachers and onto the field, running for her boyfriend while screaming wildly all the way.

   Lois laughed to herself when Luna threw herself at Stiles, the boy looking more than delighted to have a pretty girl in his arms to celebrate his win. It was cliché, just like the movies, and she heard Lydia coo from beside her.

   The brunette told her friend and parental figures that she was going to head down to the field to see if she could find Scott and celebrate with Stiles, not waiting for an answer as she hopped off of the bleachers and smoothly high-fived Finstock on the way. He blew his whistle in excitement, earning another cheer from his winning team and ran away. Lois rolled her eyes but continued on, puckering her lips as she tried to find a certain werewolf. But instead of seeing him, all she saw was darkness.

   What felt like a million screams echoed through the night as each light flickered and shut off. Lois froze in her spot, unable to breathe.

This was what Gerard had planned.

   She squinted her eyes in attempt to see through the dark, barely moving an inch before she was nearly swept off of her feet by a crowd of people running past. Lois let out a light shriek, managing to steady herself before she hit the mud and stretching her arms out in front of her, prepared for someone else who was taller and stronger to knock her right over. Her heart sped up when another scream sounded from somewhere further down the pitch, and she blindly pushed through the myriad of people, hoping to find a person she knew before anything else happened. Lois knew that Gerard had been planning something for when Scott didn't hand over Derek Hale, and she had a terrible feeling that it was going to hit close to home.

    "Scott?" She called out, her voice shaky and unsettled to reflect how she felt inside. "Stiles? Scott—?"

    "Scott! Scott, where are you?"

   Lois tried to direct herself in the direction of Melissa's voice but was unable to navigate in the dark, finding herself stuck in a rush of people. She covered her face as they pushed and shoved to get off of the field and groaned when someone's elbow collided with her cheek bone.

The girl held a hand to her cheek, clamping her eyes shut as the lights turned back on. Blinking to regain herself and wincing at the pain in her face, Lois span on her heel in attempt to locate where she was, hoping to find one of her friends and figure out what exactly was happening. Before she spotted any of them, however, her breath caught in her throat — when she saw a crowd gathered in the centre pitch with a player laying on the ground, Lois completely forgot about her cheek and started running.

"Stiles?" Lois yelled out desperately, unable to see the star player anywhere. She also couldn't see Scott and that panicked her even more as she pushed her way through the people and to the front of the crowd, "Scott? Stiles—!"

But it wasn't either of them.

"Jackson...?" She breathed, eyes wide and face pale.

"Get out of the way!" Coach came storming through, moving around his players and Lois. He threw himself to the ground by Jackson's side and waved his hands, "Move. Back off! Move!"

Unable to move even an inch, Lois found herself gaping down at the lacrosse captain. His body was still and unmoving, and she didn't fail to notice the lack of air in his chest. Her heart stilled as she stared at the teenager, the boy that they couldn't save, that was Gerard's pawn in a game that they weren't sure whether they could win. He was pale. Really pale. Paler than she'd ever seen any human being, and she couldn't bring herself to look away. Lois' hand shook and trembled, the tremors travelling up and down her arms as the haunting feeling from that night consumed her.

Another person was dead, and it was her fault.

"Jackson? What happened to Jackson?" Lydia's voice cried out in a high pitched wail, "Jackson? Jackson!"

Lois didn't even react when the strawberry blonde shoved past her, nor did she react when a hand grabbed her shoulder and gently turned her to face them. She felt numb. She couldn't feel the bruise blossoming on her cheekbone, or the pain in her head as a migraine threatened to occur.

   All that Lois Lane felt was the suffocation of water smothering her, and weighing her chest down and down, until she couldn't breathe. That was all Lois felt.

    "Lois? Lane, are you alright?"

   When her eyes finally focused, she found the face of Isaac Lahey in front of her own, his expression full of concern. She noticed the way that his brows were furrowed and he nervously licked his lips, his hand gently cupping her face.

    "Hey, are you okay?" He smiled softly when she came to, a sense of relief flooding through him. Lois slowly nodded her head and he nodded back, his gaze glued to the light purple and blue mark on her skin that was slowly getting darker. Isaac carefully ran a thumb across her cheek and frowned to himself, "What happened to your face?"

   She went to try and find words, but failed when Scott and his mother rushed towards the crowd.

    "Can we get a medic over here?" Finstock yelled as Melissa quickly moved into action, her training setting in, "We're going to need a medic!"

   Lois turned or watched her check his airways, standing closely beside Isaac and Scott. She held her breath and bit her nails, an awful guilt sitting deep within her. Lois knew what the verdict was going to be, she could tell without getting any closer, and she hated being that person. The person who knew that Jackson was already gone, that knew he was no longer breathing. Lois didn't want to admit to herself that they had lost a teenage boy who had been taken advantage of, killed in a game that he hadn't even wanted to play. It was cruel and Lois felt guilty.

   Melissa pursed her lips, "He's not breathing. No pulse."

    "Nothing?" Coach paled as the nurse linked her hands together and knelt higher, reach to start chest compressions.

    "Nothing."

   They lifted his jersey and a chorus of gasps sounded. His body was soaked in blood, the red liquid absorbing into his cotton shirt underneath, turning the once white canvas into a bloodbath.

    "Oh my god—!" Lydia sobbed, "There's blood. There's blood—"

    "Look," Scott frowned, nodding towards Jackson's hands. Lois' brow wrinkled as she followed his line of sight, noticing the blood on his fingers and her heart sinking even further into her chest. It was clear to them, what had really happened, and realising that Jackson had impaled himself made her vision blur.

   Isaac stared intently, "He did it to himself?"

    "No," Lois shook her head, voice quiet as she spoke. "He was made to do it."

   Both boys looked at her and sighed, knowing that she was right. This was Gerard's doing, not Jackson's. He was being controlled and manipulated, against his will, and that had resulting in him taking his own life.

    "Lois, get down here." Melissa called for the girl. She was the only person she knew who had some form of medical experience, even if it was only via medical camp, an aunt who was a doctor and a mother who had epileptic fits during her childhood. The woman knew that it wasn't much, but it was more than most teens Lois' age had, and that good enough for Melissa, "Lois!"

   Lois moved around the woman and got to her knees, choking at the sight of Jackson's wounds up close.

    "Hold his head," Melissa instructed, "Tilt it up."

The brunette nodded and did as she was told, biting her lower lip so hard that it drew blood. Lois cringed at the clamminess of his skin and the death on her fingertips, holding his head still as the woman proceeded with CPR. She looked away from the dead boy in her hands and around at the crowd, noting the lack of two teens that had been rejoicing only moment before they had been thrown into darkness. Lois frowned and continued to search the crowd in desperation of seeing their faces, but she couldn't.

    "Where Stiles and Luna?" She looked up at Scott and Isaac with panic in her eyes. Lois could feel the hysteria building in her chest, "Where did they go? Scott—"

    "Stiles?"

   Both her father and Stilinski pushed through the group of Beacon Hills lacrosse players and frowned at the sight before them, heaving a bitter sigh of relief when realising that it wasn't Stiles on the ground. But it only confused his father more as he span on his heel, cheeks red and warm.

   "Where the hell is my son?"

——

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