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.*･｡. WAITING FOR SUPERMAN .*･｡.
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053.
EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED
(EXCEPT LITTLE LOIS LANE!)
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——

   "So—" Lois mused, "London, huh?"

   Jackson looked up at the girl leaning against his bedroom wall and nodded, closing another box, "London."

    "It's nice, there..." she said, peering around at his empty room. She had been in Jackson's house several times over the years, being that she had attended many of his high school parties and social events, but Lois had never seen his bedroom so empty. She had popped in and out when trying to find him or Lydia, and they had even had a movie night with Danny once or twice, but his room had always been very full. "...lots of sight-seeing."

    "Yeah?" He quirked a brow and stood up, "You've been?"

    "No," she shook her head, "But I read."

   The boy chuckled and crossed his arms, watching her as she looked around. There were no longer lacrosse posters up on his walls, and the photo frames of him and Lydia, as well as the ones with all four of them, were packed into several different boxes.

   His bed was empty, stripped of covers and pillows, and his old wardrobe no longer held clothing. The lacrosse kit that had been his own for years had been returned to Coach — who had cried at the knowledge of Jackson's departure from Beacon Hills — and his co-captain status had been handed fully over to Scott McCall with great gratitude. It seemed that any trace of Jackson being in Beacon Hills had been erased, and it was like he didn't exist. The only thing that he had left was his high school fame and his name to be tossed around in halls as the students remembered him. After all, it was hard to forget someone like Jackson Whittemore.

How did you forget the almighty?

    "Not that I don't appreciate the farewell," Jackson's words were sincere when speaking to her for one of the first times ever, "But what are you doing here, Lois? Nowhere better to be?"

   Lois shrugged her shoulders and pursed her lips.

If she was honest, she wasn't really sure why she had been there, either.

They had never been particularly good friends, over the years. In fact, they were the worst friends in the entirety of Beacon Hills High, but she couldn't deny that it would be weird with him gone.

   All the two had ever done was bicker, since the very first day that they had met through Lydia Martin. They would fight and they would scream, and argue about how he had treated Lydia — and at times, they would have to be forced apart before someone lost an eye. It was fair to say that they were never going to get along, but that didn't mean that they hadn't gotten used to one another's company. Fighting with Jackson was comfortable. Wherever Lydia was, Jackson and Lois had usually always followed.

They would see each other, spit a few mean comments over lunch or pass cruel notes in the library, and that had become the norm for them. Lois Lane and Jackson Whittemore had expected to argue and frown whenever the other was around — they knew that they were going to butt beads any time that they were in the same room, and that was how it was. It was normal to them.

   Over the years, Lois had grown used to Jackson's arrogant and infuriating presence, and he had learned to deal with her.

He knew how to handle the smart-remarks and the glares. It was a dynamic that had been going on for as long as they could both remember, and the idea of it suddenly being gone was an odd one. It made Lois feel weird in her stomach when she thought about it, her gut would twist and it would turn.

   In a way, Lois would miss it.

    "I always have places better to be." Lois quipped, to which he scoffed. "I just wanted to ask you, something."

He seemed hesitant for a moment, but Jackson soon nodded.

While he strolled over to another box and started to tape it shut, Jackson peering up at her again with his lips pursed together. He waited.

"Okay— shoot."

Instead of asking the question on the tip of her tongue, Lois pushed away from the wall and strolled towards him, her hand grabbing the scissors from where they sat on top of the last box. She snipped the tape for him when he gestured for it, and then popped them back down, humming lightly to herself. She knelt down next to him and then moved to her bum, crossing her legs like a child. It briefly reminded her of childhood. The pair sat in silence for a while — something that had never really happened in the time they spent together — just the two of them, taping boxes.

After five minutes had passed, Jackson turned away from the boxes and rose a brow at her.

She ignored his glance and he rolled his eyes, unamused.

"Are you going to ask me that question?"

Lois was going to ask him the question, eventually. It was hard for her to find the right words. There was something that had been bothering her since the night at the police station, when his father had dished out a lawsuit against the teens. Well, against Stiles and Scott — somehow, Lois had gotten away with it. But how?

"You remember when we locked you in that prison van?"

Jackson smiled sarcastically, "Ah— how could I forget?"

"That night at the station, when our fathers decided on the restraining order..." Lois continued, watching him nod. She came to a stop, hesitating on what to say next, but sucked in a breath and quickly said the words she had been dying to say for the last few weeks. "My dad was about to kill me three times over for what we did, but then your father came in and said that you'd changed your mind." She shook her head slowly, feeling the same wave confusion hit her all over, again. "Why?"

When he didn't reply, she continued, "I don't understand, what changed?"

It took him a minute to respond, but he did.

"Maybe I thought testicle left and right deserved more of a sentence, than you did—?" Jackson shrugged carelessly, "Idiots like that shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a prison van."

"Jackson, I was one of the idiots allowed near a prison van." Lois commented dryly, not liking him calling her two best friends idiots, even after all these years. Only she got to call Scott and Stiles idiots, "I mean— I literally handcuffed you to the floor."

"I'm a very forgiving person."

He snickered when she stared at him in disbelief.

"What? I could be forgiving—!"

"You filed a lawsuit against Greenberg in our freshman year, because he didn't get down on his knees when he apologised for bumping into you!" Lois scoffed. Jackson smirked to himself and muttered something about being rich, groaning when she sent a shove to his shoulder. She sighed, "Seriously— why did you change your mind? I wasn't exactly innocent..."

   He seemed to think about his answer more, this time. Jackson leant away from the boxes, legs crossed, an arm to support him.

It was an answer that Lois waited patiently for.

    "I don't know," the lacrosse captain shrugged his shoulders once again. Jackson ran a hand through his hair and faked a yawn to seem as though he didn't care, when really he did. "You said that you'd lost someone, and I get that. So— I guess it seemed unfair to let you suffer, even more."

Lois was surprised by his answer. She hadn't expected him to say what he had, but it made sense to her. He had lost his parents and he knew that she had lost someone, so he had empathised. For once in his life, Jackson had found it within himself to emote for the sake of another human being. The boy had realised somewhere along the lines that she had been hurting in a way that he could relate to; he'd realised that him and Lois weren't so different, after all. And with that, Jackson had decided to be compassionate and Lois couldn't help but smile softly at the idea. Perhaps there was more to him than his good looks, and the amount of money in his pocket — maybe, just maybe, he wasn't quite that bad.

Once she had allowed the information to sink in, Lois Lane cleared her throat and hummed to herself, quite casually.

"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," she said.

"I've said nicer things to you—" he objected.

"Like what?" Lois challenged him, a smirk dancing along her lips as she waited for a response. Jackson struggled to find a single nice thing he had ever said to her, and she snorted.

"I totally say nice things to you!"

The girl mocked him again, "Totally."

Jackson muttered something about how annoying she was, which she ignored because she didn't want to ruin the moment that they had just had. They fell into a similar silence to before and simply sat together, packing up more boxes and taping them all shut.

Neither of them said anything else. Perhaps it was because all that they had needed to say had been said, or maybe because they had run out of topics to discuss. Either way, both of the teenagers were happy to sit in the quiet between them. They allowed their own trains of thought to take over, letting the cogs in their minds spin and turn. Lois had a lot to think about. Now that they had defeated Gerard and saved Jackson, it gave her time to at least try and put her life back together.

She wasn't sure how long the calm would last before the next storm started brewing, and her life wasn't something to be patched up with simply sticky tape, but she hoped it was worth the try.

   The pair stayed in their states of thinking until there was a knock at the door, both looking up to find it was Jackson's mother.

She smiled at them softly, "All good, up here?"

    "Yeah—" Jackson nodded, "—yeah, all good."

    "Great, it's almost time to leave." The woman told him, resting her temple against the wooden frame. She glanced between the pair and hummed to herself — she was surprised to see Lois stood at their front door, alone, that morning. It wasn't often that the girl came over without Danny or Lydia, but it was a nice change. One that she felt her son had needed, "See you later, Lois."

   Lois nodded and smiled, watching his mother leave.

    "She likes you," he noted, sighing when her smile grew wide.

    "Most people do," she shrugged with a cocky grin, feeling smug. It was true, that most parents liked her. Her friends family's saw her as a second child most of the time, and she enjoyed it. "I think it's a trait that comes with being named after comics."

Jackson chuckled under his breath and shook his head, looking back up at Lois fondly. It was a bit late — but he was starting to realise that she wasn't all that bad. Surprisingly, she was one of the few people that he would actually miss when he left for his new life in London, England. Given that the list was pretty short, but she had managed to slowly work her way up there. Maybe they would never consider themselves friends, but right now, Lois Lane was tolerable. It was nice to get along with her, even if it would only last for the next five minutes.

   There was a lot that Jackson had always wondered about Lois.

Why she had moved to Beacon Hills so late in their childhood, why she hadn't been able to swim at Lydia's party when she had fallen into the pool. He had always been curious to know why she never got picked up by her mother from school, only her father, and why Stiles Stilinski was so protective over her. They were childhood best friends, sure— but he could guard her like a dog.

   But, most of all in that moment, he wondered about Lois and Isaac. He wasn't a fool; Jackson was no stranger to feelings, even if he tried to claim otherwise.

   He had seen the way that they acted around each other. On the outside, it was diabolical. The pair would bicker and bite, and they would happily threaten rip out the others' throat when they dared open their mouth, but there was more to it than that. Jackson had seen the stares that lasted longer than usual, the small smiles.

   Jackson had noticed how smug Isaac had looked when he made her laugh, even enough to wink at her in the crowd, and he had been on the receiving end of Lois' fist when he had nicked Isaac at the championship game. Jackson may not have remembered doing it, but he didn't think he was ever going to forget the feelings of her knuckles striking his jaw.

She had a hard punch — it was impressive, actually.

   The lacrosse captain pondered these things and subtly scooted foreword an inch, their knees close enough to touch. He sent his leg into hers, nudging it slightly, to which Lois raised an eyebrow, expecting him to speak.

"What's going on between you and Lahey?" Jackson smirked at her as he interrogated, noticing her confusion. "Seems...cosy."

"Cosy? What are we— ten?"

Rolling his eyes, the boy ignored her comment and went back to his investigation. "He's a bit of a loser, but I guess I can see why you like him. Tall, blonde curls, pretty eyes—"

"I don't like Isaac!" She groaned, waving her hands around in exasperation. He watched her fall backwards and to the ground, amused by the theatrics that she was displaying. "I shot him in the shoulder with an arrow, you know! Somehow, that doesn't sound like something you'd do to a boy you liked — does it?"

"You two kissed at the rave," Jackson grinned mischievously. His grin only widened when her head shot up, supporting herself by leaning back on her elbows, frowning at him. He snickered at her expression, "I wasn't out of it, the whole time. There are bits and pieces I can remember—" the boy hummed mockingly, "—and that seems to be the thing I remember clearest. Weird...right?"

Lois narrowed her eyes, "Yeah— weird."

    "I say go for it," he said. "What have you got to lose?"

    "Nothing," the girl responded, "Because I don't like him."

    "Not yet—but you will."

   She stared at him incredulously, unable to believe that he had started this conversation and couldn't let it go. Lois never thought that she would be talking about her non-existent love life with Jackson, but then again, her life had been full of surprises lately.

    "Jackson? Time to go—!"

   Lois peered at the doorway, listening to his mothers voice float up the stairs, and took it as an opportunity to flee from his new agony aunt status.

    "You're not very good at advice." She told him bluntly, pulling herself up from the ground. "Stick to lacrosse."

   Following her lead and stretching his limbs out in the same way that she did, Jackson resisted the urge to roll his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time. Lois had that effect on him; she was just irritating, like that.

    "I'll consider it."

   She mirrored his tight smile and crossed her arms over her chest, slowly strolling towards the door. Before she left him, however, Lois span on her heel and leant against the doorway with her lips pursed. This was the last time that she would see Jackson for a long while, if not ever, and she found the idea absurd. Lois wasn't sure how their lives would be without him — friends, or not.

    "Struggling to say goodbye?" Jackson rose a brow, his tone more playful than usual. London would be good for him.

   With a smile tugging on her lips, Lois shook her head.

    "I didn't think Jackson Whittemore was nice enough to give goodbyes." She remarked casually, watching him scoff at her.

Lois turned to leave, but she was called back.

"Lois—?"

The girl hummed and nodded, waiting patiently for him to say whatever he had needed to. Jackson puckered his lips and sighed, lingering in silence for three seconds and nodded gratefully.

"Thanks."

   She hadn't expected him to thank her for anything, and it had left her shocked. Lois wasn't entirely sure what it was that she had done, to be thanked for: maybe it was because she had refused to let him die, or perhaps because she had been the only one to come and say goodbye. Either way, the brunette let out a bashful laugh and waved a hand. She watched him for a second longer — him looking at her in the same exact way — and then swiftly turned on her heel, walking down the hall.

• • •

   Lois hopped out of Stiles' jeep and slammed the door shut, her shoulder resting against the vehicle as she waited for the boys to take their lacrosse sticks out of the trunk.

    "So— you really think she'll come back to you?" She rose a curious brow at Scott, as he rounded the car and stopped by her.

   He nodded, "Yeah— I know she will."

   The girl smiled at him, a sense of pride tingling her heart. Scott was being incredibly mature about his break up with Allison, and she hadn't expected anything less. He had always been the biggest sweetheart and she knew that his love for Allison was undying; he would wait for her as long as he needed to, even if that meant that he would be waiting for the rest of life and time combined. Scott loved her enough to wait.

   Their relationship had been something out of a fairytale, and it upset Lois that it had to come to an end. They loved each other but, even after hiding their relationship behind closed doors for months on end, it simply couldn't be.

   Some things simply didn't work out.

    "Luna said Allison's going to France for the summer," Stiles spoke up, shutting the trunk. He hiked his stick over his shoulder and stood beside his two friends, relaying the information that he had heard from his girlfriend. Lois nodded in confirmation, too having heard about the Argent family's planned getaway.

    "It'll make it easier," Scott sucked in a breath and nodded to himself in thought, "Not seeing her everyday— you know? I want to give her space."

   Lois hummed, "No space like France."

   The two boys rolled their eyes at her comment but smiled at it, nonetheless. Scott gave the girl a hand in clambering onto Stiles' jeep, sitting on the hood while they made their way to the net. She gave him a smile in thanks and watched them take a lacrosse ball from the sports bag they had brought, feeling very much like her younger self — back when she would watch them both practise for hours. Lois had no doubts that she would get wrapped up in helping them at some point, but for now she sat on the jeep and admired how much her best friends had changed over the year.

   They used to be losers. Two kids that could hardly even play lacrosse — one asthmatic, one on adderall — stuck on the bench.

Scott had no experience with the female species, having never spoken to any girl other than Lois, and Stiles had a ten year plan set to make Lydia Martin fall in love with him.

But things were different, now.

   Scott McCall was the captain of the lacrosse team and Stiles had won them the championship game, and both of them were in love with two beautiful girls. Given Scott's relationship hadn't worked out in the end, but that didn't mean he hadn't grown and matured because of it. Both of them had turned into young men, gentlemen, ones that put their all into saving the world around them. They had defeated an alpha, defeated Gerard, and saved Jackson while keeping as many people alive as they possibly could. The two of them had gone from anxious and lame to confident and successful teenage boys. It was something that Lois hadn't really noticed until now — her two best friends had changed.

   It was different — a good different, that is.

   All the while, Lois was pretty sure that she still Lois. She was still the same girl that was named after a comic book character all those years ago, with a sarcastic attitude that mercilessly drove her father half-insane.

   She was a bit taller, only by an inch, and she had seen things that she never thought were possible, but she was still Lois Lane.

   Even when her hair was in a ponytail instead of down and curled, or when she wore heels instead of sneakers, Lois was still her: the best friend of Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall; Lydia's shopping partner; her fathers daughter. Lois was still the girl with big eyes and a fear of water, and she didn't think that that would ever change. At least, not now. But, she didn't mind. Lois wasn't sure if she was ready to change, just yet. Maybe soon.

"Hurry up—!"

Stiles ushered his friend with a clap of his hands, impatiently waving his stick around as he waited for Scott to move faster. Lois and Scott rolled their eyes.

"Get into the goal—" he demanded, "—and help me make team captain like you promised there, big guy."

Laughing good-heartedly, Scott walked into the goal and held his lacrosse stick in front of him, bending his knees down to a crouch. After a moment, he frowned to himself and stood up straight again, ignoring the way Stiles groaned. His frown slowly cracked into a soft smile, and the boy looked to his friends with shimmering eyes.

"Hey— you know what I just realised?" He spoke.

They shook their heads.

"I'm right back where I started."

Stiles quirked a brow, "What do you mean?"

"I mean no lacrosse, no popularity, no girlfriend." Scott listed each item on his spare hand, counting on his fingers. He nodded slightly and gave an earnest chuckle. He reiterated, "...nothing."

"Dude—!" Stiles pointed to him and Lois, "—you still got us!"

"I had you guys, before." Scott smiled, softly.

"Yeah, and you've still got us! Okay?" Lois pitched in, flicking her hair over her shoulder and leaning back on the jeep, her left arm supporting her body. Stiles nodded in agreement and both of them smirked when she continued, "That's, like— a life fulfilled."

"Very."

"Now remember," Stiles gripped his lacrosse stick in his hands and narrowed his eyes at Scott, "No wolf-powers!"

Scott nodded, "Got it."

"No, I mean it!" The son of the sheriff whined, "No super fast reflexes, no super eyesight, no hearing — none of that crap, okay?"

"Okay!" He laughed, "Come on—!"

"You promise?"

"Stiles!" Lois groaned, "Just take the shot, already!"

"You heard her!" Scott called out in agreement, taking his stick and waving it from side to side. He smacked the goal post to the left of him and then to the right, twisting it his hands and getting ready to play. Scott had never been fond of playing in goal, but for Stiles, he would do it. "Shoot it!"

Stiles sighed but nodded, swooping up the ball in his stick and sucking in a breath. He waited for a second and then let the breath out, tossing the ball towards the goal.

Lois nearly fell off of the jeep, she had laughed that loudly — her whole body was shaking with joy when Scott leapt into the air and grabbed the ball, his eyes glowing amber. Stiles' face dropped and morphed into irritation, glaring at the snorting girl sat upon the hood of his car. He scowled and threw the stick in his hands at his werewolf friend when he had started laughing along with Lois, hoping that it would hit him in the head hard enough to knock him out. It didn't, unfortunately.

"I said no wolf-powers!"

——

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