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1
Jackson spent his first full moon with Scott. It wasn't planned by any means. Not by him at least. He had a feeling that Scott showing up in his neighborhood while Jackson was pacing around his block as the moon broke over the horizon wasn't just a coincidence. But Scott ended up being more useful than anyone could possibly guess. He taught Jackson some of the tricks that he had to learn painstakingly on his own. Or with the help of his other dumbass friend Stilinski.
He'd witnessed some of it, though he didn't realize what exactly it had been at the time. Stiles pelting Scott with lacrosse balls, Stiles keying some random meathead's truck and blaming it on Scott. It had all been to figure out how he could control that bloodlust that ran as a steady undercurrent on the night of the full moon. Jackson wasn't a good student. He shoved Scott aside and repeatedly told him that he didn't need his help, or anyone else's for that matter, but Scott never left. He'd just roll his eyes and close the gap that Jackson pushed between them without ever stopping whatever little thing he'd been trying to teach Jackson about.
At some point in the night, they'd caught a rabbit. Or rather, Jackson chased after him headlong while Scott managed to get around them and take the rabbit down from the side. True to his nature, he didn't even kill the rabbit. He held it up triumphantly by the scruff of the hare's neck as it kicked weakly to get away.
Jackson went in for the kill. As disgusted as he was at the action, his jaws moved to rip into the animal's neck instinctively. But Scott didn't let the happen. He stopped Jackson and let the rabbit go, fussing at him about getting parasites or something worse from the animal. And for some reason, Jackson stood there and listen to every word of it rather than chasing the tasty looking creature down.
They crashed later that night, Jackson curled up on a tree branch while Scott rested at the base of the tree. He'd never admit it out loud but he hadn't slept that peacefully since he first discovered the existence of werewolves.
Over the course of the next few weeks, lacrosse never went better for Scott. Where Stiles ended up bruised, sore, and barely conscious enough to drive home, Scott barely got touched and didn't have to work nearly as hard for the goals he scored as Jackson pulled a few strings to make sure that Scott had the cover he needed to pull the team into the lead.
2
Jackson had become even more of a runner since becoming a werewolf. The only problem was that his old route wasn't cutting it. Normally an hour might yield him about eight miles, which he normally ran in a weaving path around his neighborhood. But lately, that just wasn't cutting it. He ended up walking into his house feeling even more energetic than before and he barely even broke a sweat.
So he decided to change his route. He'd run the entire circumference of town, cutting a wide circle through the forest that would hopefully push him harder than he'd ever pushed himself as a human. Staying in the woods would let him see just how much he could do as a wolf without that idiotic McCall getting in the way trying to be helpful.
But of course it happened anyway. He was running at full speed. It was amazing how fast he was really able to go now. There were moments, as the trees whipped past him and the ground beneath his feet blurred that he questioned if it would really be possible for even his Porsche to move at this speed. His lungs burned and his legs ached, but the pain was a welcomed reminder of how hard he was working for what he wanted. He did everything to become a werewolf and now that he was finally one of them, he wasn't going to let this new found power go to waste. He'd show McCall what a wolf could really do.
A dark figure rushed ahead of him in the woods and he let out an annoyed growl. How did this come so easily to McCall? How was he still faster? He veered off the path he'd planned and chased after the moving shadow of a wolf. Pushing himself so hard that he was out of breath and his legs were ready to give way, he pounced on the other wolf.
The blond was thrown onto the ground, a sharp set of claws holding him still. "Jackson. It's about time you learn how to treat your alpha."
Crap. That wasn't Scott's voice. His pulse rate shot through the roof, and the change surged over his body. He fought against the alpha's hold to no avail. The wolf was still stronger, still an alpha
"Derek." Jackson growled, burying his own set of claws into the alpha's wrist. "I thought I already made it clear that your leadership sucks." He repeated himself, putting on a false front to try to hide his fear.
Derek just grinned at him like Jackson was a bratty child that he was forced to babysit. He knew the truth. Jackson was scared. He'd been desperate for this power because he felt weak. He wanted something to free himself from the husk of a life he'd been living in that museum of a house he just knew would end up being his tomb. Maybe that desperation was what got him the bite in the first place. Derek knew that he'd be able to overpower Jackson, order him around, get what he wanted because in the end Jackson would still be that scared little boy looking for a salvation that wasn't coming.
"Jackson." Derek started, his voice full of confidence and pride in whatever clever quip was about to surface. Only it never got the chance. Derek fell forward with a groan, lingering for a few seconds before McCall's name burned off of his tongue like it was made of pure wolfsbane.
"We talked about this." McCall was angry and he was looming over Derek like he was every bit as strong as the older man. Stronger even. They talked about Jackson in the past? Why would either of them care enough to have talked about him?
Derek got to his feet, getting into Scott's face. Scott never backed down, never even flinched. Was there a whiff of jealousy coming off of the blond boy?
"This is Hale land. Besides, do you really think a wolf like him is going to make it that long without someone watching his back? Without someone training him? He's an omega in the lowest sense of the word and we both know what happens to them." Derek growled, his eyes glowing red. Omega? Jackson's heart was pounding again. He'd gone through all of that just to be an omega? He was supposed to be stronger. Better. Why was he at the bottom of the totem pole again? He might as well be human all over again.
"He's not an omega anymore than I am." Scott shot back, turning his back on Derek. Derek stared like an animal. It was all over his face that Scott's show of confidence was about to bite him in the ass. Never turn your back on a wolf. But just like that the fight drained out of him. Was Derek ceding to McCall? Why was McCall so fucking special?
Derek growled, turning his gaze onto Jackson. "You have people, though, Scott. You aren't completely alone. Not like him."
And then Derek was gone. Scott offered Jackson a hand up, but the blond just shoved him aside and demanded that Scott stop getting the way all the time. He could have handled Derek. He didn't need the help. And then Jackson took off at a sprint once more, hiding his watering eyes and his weakness and his scarred pride and leaving Scott behind with the faced of a kicked puppy.
3
After the incident with Derek, Jackson spent most of his time alone. Scott seemed to take the hint finally and kept his distance. Truthfully, it was a little lonely. Lydia and Danny still came around, but nothing was the same anymore. Danny was still his best friend, but there had always been a rift between them that he'd done his best to keep from the Hawaiian. It had grown too wide to deny now, but they were doing a great job of dancing around it like it didn't exist.
Danny always knew when something was wrong with Jackson. He was just a good friend like that. It came naturally to him. The blond knew that he would never deserve someone as good as Danny for a friend. Someone who genuinely worried about the selfish asshole that never asked if Danny was okay. Why did Danny bother coming around still?
But Danny did still come around periodically to check on him. And then one night, Danny showed up looking a little nicer than usual. He was wearing a tighter outfit that showed off his body and made Jackson raise a brow.
Danny immediately scoffed at him and shook his head. "Jackson. The Jungle. Remember? You're the one that texted me about going tonight. I figured you wanted to get wasted."
It was true. When Jackson really wanted to go out and get wasted without dealing with the bullshit of getting his own alcohol, or with the added bonus of being adored by a group of people, he'd join Danny on a night out at the Jungle.
"What are you talking about? I didn't -"
"Don't tell me you're wearing that, Jackson. Just because people always give you want you want doesn't mean you can go to the club looking like you just climbed out of a year long nap." He pushed into Jackson's house, heading straight up to Jackson's room. Jackson turned numbly and followed after him, wondering where the idea of a trip to club had come from. "And you need to start coming to the gym with me again. If you end up getting fat, I'm totally supporting the team's decision to kick you off when it happens. Besides, just because you'll happily crush yourself under a ton of weights doesn't mean that I don't want a spotter either." He continued. Things felt so incredibly normal. Danny chastising him and going through his closet like he was the one that actually had the fashion sense in the friendship (not that he didn't have any, but Jackson's was undeniably the best). Danny pulled out an outfit and and pushed it into Jackson's chest. Change. And don't take forever or I'm leaving your ass. I need tonight."
And Jackson was sure that he did. Danny had never had a lot of luck with guys. They all ended up being assholes in the end, and on multiple occasions, Jackson had actually ended up getting physically violent to make sure that they stopped coming around his best friend and messing up his life even more.
Danny left the bedroom, trotting down the stairs and pacing in the entryway. He really was ready to go. Jackson wondered if he was meeting a guy there or if he was just hopeful that maybe he would meet someone worth giving a chance tonight.
Jackson changed out of the old clothes that he'd been wearing and into the outfit Danny had picked out. "He's kidding, right?" The blond muttered under his breath as he stared at himself in the mirror. Tight t-shirt. Form fitting jeans. Danny picked out almost the exact same clothes that he was wearing right now. This was why he had the fashion sense. With a shake of his head, he pulled a button up over the shirt, leaving a lot of it unbuttoned. At least now they didn't look like they were together and sharing the exact same closet.
He headed downstairs with Danny, who immediately motioned for Jackson to hurry up and walked out to his car. "No." Danny answered a question Jackson hadn't even asked yet. "We're not taking your Porsche. Every time we do, some guy ends up wanting to date me just so we can have sex in it."
Jackson smirked and shrugged his shoulders. "You say it like it's a bad thing." He replied as he got into Danny's car. Danny threw him a glare and they were on their way.
They went to the club and both of them had a good time. It was the best that Jackson felt since he was turned into a kanima if he was going to be honest with himself. He still got plenty of drinks and he enjoyed them even if he couldn't take the little escape that alcohol used to provide him. Even the attention was appreciated. Drink after drink, compliment after compliment, turning down some, leading others on. It was a game that Jackson was good at playing. Danny had told him a few times that he was too good at playing it. And he was only better now that his senses were heightened.
He'd done a lot of research since becoming a werewolf on the physiological changes that happened during a lie, and he was becoming better and better at detecting them, prying into the half-truths people used to try to disguise them.
Much to Danny's distaste, he was even able to scare away a few men that smelled nothing but sex or that were lying about their interest in his best friend. Eventually, he made up for it by making sure Danny got the number of someone seemed to being showing genuine interest.
When they were in his driveway once more, Danny sat in the car, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel thoughtfully. Jackson knew it as a sign that he had something to say.
"Thanks." Danny said finally, looking at Jackson seriously. It was that look that told Jackson if he tried to brush it off and act like it was nothing, he was going to get punched. "I mean it. Things have been rough lately... For both of us. And I needed some time with you. It's been months since we really hung out together.I was starting to wonder if I needed to find a new best friend or something."
"Like you could after me." Jackson snorted, shaking his head. "Of course you don't need to find a new best friend. I'm just trying to get used to some changes."
"If you need to talk about it, Ja-"
"No. I'm good." He replied quickly, shaking his head. He didn't want Danny to know. Danny would try to help and end up getting himself hurt and he didn't want that. "It's just - I have to do it on my own."
"Yeah, McCall said you'd probably tell me that."
"Why the hell were you talking to that idiot?"
"He's a good guy. You could go a little easier on him. I don't know what you have against him exactly, but he's part of the reason I actually came over in the first place."
"What?"
Danny shrugged his shoulders. "I'd almost given up. You know, gotten into one of those 'he'll find me when he gets over whatever he's hiding this time' kind of moods. But Scott came up to me. It was kind of weird. Even for McCall and Stilinski. I'm pretty sure he knew you texted me somehow. It was almost like he was making sure I was going to come over and spend some time with you."
Jackson rolled his eyes. McCall. Danny's story made sense. McCall always meddled. He probably got to Jackson's phone somehow and sent the text to Danny and then played on Danny to make sure he'd go. He just didn't know what McCall was trying to get out of it.
"Anyway. Thanks for coming. And for getting that guy's number. Maybe he won't be a jerk."
Jackson smirked smugly. "Less of a jerk than all the others anyway. See you later, Danny."
4
Jackson stayed late after practice again. It had become a routine. Now that he was a werewolf, Danny couldn't keep up anymore. He didn't want Danny to start getting suspicious, so he learned pretty fast how to hide the fact that everything Danny struggled with was a walk in the park to him now. After a few hours, Danny would finally leave him to his own devices, throwing some threat out there to make sure that Jackson wouldn't do something stupid and get himself hurt.
"Jackson." The voice belonged to an older man, a man who was far more dangerous than he let on. A man who had the scent of gunpowder embedded so deeply in his skin that Jackson was pretty sure it was just incorporated into him by now.
"M- Mister Argent..." Jackson replied, jumping to his feet and instinctively backing away.
There were more people with him. Chris had an apologetic expression on his face. Chris was a monster hunter. He understood that a monster was not a matter of form, but of character. And Jackson was well aware of his flaws, of his own guilt. The others seemed even more sure of it than Chris did.
"I hate to do this. You're just a boy. But my colleagues don't trust that this little... phase... has passed. A body turned up today, Jackson. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Chris questioned, his hand resting firmly on the thick handle of his pistol.
"You know he doesn't, Chris." Fucking Scott McCall. Do-gooder extraordinaire.
"Shut the hell up, McCall." Jackson snapped, his concern for his own life failing momentarily as anger sparked up his spine. Did Scott think he was this inept? He could state his own innocence. "Have you been following me? You don't know what I've done today." Okay, maybe not that well.
Scott gawked at him. Chris arched a surprised eyebrow and the other hunters closed in. Jackson shifted, snarling out a warning to the hunters to stay away from him.
And of course.
That fucking moron Scott that wouldn't stop getting in the way stepped in front of Jackson. He stayed in his human form, firmly planted between the werewolf behind him and the hunters in front. Human nails had turned to claws and the rumbling growl in Scott's throat made the blond wonder about the color of Scott's eyes, but the hunters stilled themselves and Chris cleared his throat.
"He said it himself, Scott. You don't know what he'd done today." Chris said calmly, a sigh dropping his shoulders.
"Chris, you know as well as I do that he's not a killer."
"His eyes are blue, Scott."
Scott swallowed and glanced over his shoulder, eyes locking with Jackson's momentarily. God, the weight of that stare was crushing. What was McCall thinking as their eyes met?
The gaze broke shortly after and Scott turned to Chris again. "You know why that is. Your gun's probably shot plenty of werewolves too, are you going to start calling it a monster?"
Bile rose in Jackson's throat as he realized they were talking blame and punishment.
Chris took more to Scott's words than the others. He huffed out yet another sigh and nodded. "Alright, let's go. This boy hasn't hurt anyone."
"Are you kidding, Chris? After everything he's done, you're going to say that?" One of the hunters demanded, a hard glare turned to Chris.
"He had nothing to do with that body." Chris replied, arching his brow in a challenge to the other hunter.
"Chris, he killed about a dozen inn-" With a growl, Scott ended the sentence with his fist.
Standing over the man with his eyes flashing, Scott growled. "Say it again."
"Chris!"
"You should know better than to mess with a pack. Scott told you that he didn't do anything. Are you going to come now?" Chris chastised, taking his hand off of his gun to offer the hunter a hand.
"We aren't pack." Jackson snapped, teeth bared.
Chris looked at him curiously, glancing over to Scott before he led the hunters towards the school's exit. "You two just keep an eye out for each other."
5
There are some things that time couldn't fix. That was probably the most difficult lesson to learn. There would never be a time when he forgot what he'd done. There would never be a way to make Lydia care about him like she used to. They still loved each other. They still dated. They still took care of each other. But they barely touched. Every once in a while, Lydia would stay over and curl up in bed with him, and it was nice to have another body that close, but it was still surprisingly cold.
Jackson didn't blame Lydia for it. It was his fault, after all. He just couldn't help himself. He pushed people away.
Everyone knew it.
And so it wasn't really a surprise when there was a strange smell to Lydia's perfume that he tried his best to ignore. It wasn't really a surprise when a very similar smell passed him in the hallway with a little hint of Lydia on his skin, the smallest trace of red lipstick on his neck.
It wasn't really a surprise.
But it didn't make it any easier.
He played it off when Lydia leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder like everything was fine. He just forced a smile and asked her how her day was going.
His stomach twisted as she smiled and told him that it was going fantastic.
Against every to give Scott any credit for anything it did being good, it was a relief when the dark-haired body squeezed himself between them. In unison, Jackson and Lydia through a confused glare at Scott. Scott didn't touch them. They weren't friends.
But Jackson never thought he could appreciate a touch more than this one right now.
Scott babbled about practice and how he and Stiles were going out for a movie and that Jackson and Danny should come so that they could make a guy's night out of it. Jackson nodded thoughtfully, refusing to immediately say yes as much as he wanted to just so that he wouldn't have to risk having Lydia alone and the awkward conversations that might follow.
But before he could answer, Scott was turning to Lydia with a wrinkled nose. "Is that a new perfume? You might want to try a new brand, Lydia. That one smells sort of like dude." He commented like it was the most casual observation in the world. Scott's arm tightened around Jackson just slightly and it occurred to him that Scott must have noticed too.
Lydia froze, staring at him with a mixture of shock and indignation before quickly recovering and rolling her eyes. "I knew trying this designer's new line was a mistake." He replied, flipping her red locks over her shoulder. "I'm going to the powder room. You two play nice."
Lydia sauntered away and Jackson watched after her for a few moments before realizing that Scott's gaze was fixed on him, arm still around his shoulders. Jackson shrugged the arm off of him, eyes narrowing into a glare.
"What do you want, McCall?"
"Guy's night."
"Fine. But you're shutting up for the rest of the day if I have to deal with you tonight."
Scott flashed a smile, wagging his eyebrows before heading into class. And Jackson followed because he was stuck with the stupid puppy of a boy all day.
+1
Guy's night was actually a lot better than Jackson would've guessed. Despite a few odd looks from Danny questioning why it was actually him that had agreed to do this, everyone was actually relaxed and just hanging out. Well, Jackson was less than convinced that it was physically possible for Stiles to relax. He was a fidgety mess of hyperactive energy.
It seemed like Scott always just happened to be next to him. On the couch, Jackson was wedge between Scott and Danny. At dinner, it ended up being Scott and Jackson on one side of the table with their respective best friends across the table from them. Jackson drove Scott to dinner because he refused to be seen in a patchwork jeep or on the rundown dirt bike that Scott seemed to confuse with a motorcycle.
Danny picked a great time to be stubborn and decided that if Jackson was going to be difficult, then he'd just ride with Stiles. That, of course, left him with McCall.
"We could ride separately." Scott offered, looking over at his bike.
Jackson didn't know why his eye roll wasn't paired with a relieved acceptance of the idea. "Just get in before I decide to haul your bike back to the dump you pulled it out of."
"I didn't get it from a dump." Scott pouted, eliciting another roll of the blond's eyes.
"I don't really care." Jackson snapped in return, tightening his grip on the steering wheel as they pulled into the road.
"You don't owe her anything, you know."
"What?"
"Lydia."
"Shut up, Scott."
"I'm just saying. Wouldn't you be better off breaking up with her now before it keeps going?"
"Scott."
"It's not like it's the first time."
"Scott."
"Well, you know that-"
"SCOTT!"
"I'm just saying that you can move on."
"Do you think I'm too stupid to realize that?"
"Well, no, but you-"
"McCall. If you don't get your nose out of my life, I'm going to tear it off."
"But..."
"You're making me regretting having that restraining order lifted."
"Just trying to help." He complained in a weak grumble.
Scott huffed out a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest. Surprisingly, he shut up and stared out the window. It was less reassuring than he felt that it should be. Suddenly, there was the distinct sensation that he'd just kicked a puppy.
Heaving a sigh, Jackson looked over at Scott. The dark-haired male was pointedly staring out the window. Or pouting out the window if the reflection was any indication. He rolled his eyes and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. His knuckles were white when he finally spoke. He couldn't believe he was doing this.
"Scott."
Those puppy eyes turned to him, doing a poor job of hiding the curiosity and hope gleaming underneath the boy's dark eyes.
Fuck my life.
With the car stopped at a red light and Scott's eyes still questioning him, he grabbed a handful of Scott's hair, pulling it to tilt his face up and give him easy access to Scott's lips. The cry of protest made this a little better for Jackson, at least.
And there was no way in hell that he would ever admit that the slide of Scott's lips was something he could see himself chasing in the future.
Jackson broke the kiss, wiping his mouth and pressing the gas.
"What..."
Jackson rolled his eyes. "Thanks. Okay? Was that good enough? Can I have my life back with only minimal interruptions now?"
A grin spread over Scott's face. There had never been a time when Jackson had to squash a smile and want to rip someone's face off at the same time until now.
Screw you, Scott McCall.
When they parked, Scott caught his lips again. It didn't last long, but it didn't have to. Jackson knew he'd made a mistake. McCall was stuck to him now. In his skin. Even if he tried to fight it, the idiot wasn't going to let it go anymore.
"You wish." Jackson snapped as he got out of the Porsche, immediately coming face-to-face with Danny who was staring at him like he'd grown a second head. A really dumb one with dark skin and even darker hair.
Jackson steeled his jaw, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?"
"I should've known." Danny replied, shaking his head at Jackson.
"Known what?"
Danny arched his brows and shook his head. Stiles and Scott were out of the vehicles and moving closer now. Reason number one Danny was his best friend, he knew when to keep his mouth shut. They would talk about this later.
It was a conversation that he wasn't particularly looking forward to.
But screw freaking McCall and that stupid little grin he had as he made small talk with Stiles and kept sneaking glances over at him and Danny. He'd been listening.
And screw how contagious that grin was that he had to keep forcing it down. Scott better not have given him anything. He had to get that idiot tested before he found out that moron was contagious far too late.
He better get a fucking goodnight kiss out of this.
Bonus
Break-up texts are not Jackson's strong suit
or the one where Jackson reveals a little too much
[text to:Lydia] In light of the fact that I'm not a complete idiot, I'm going to need my house key and other belongings back at your earliest convenience.
[text from: Lydia] This again, Jackson? It still isn't funny.
[text to: Lydia] There still isn't a haha at the end of the text
[text from: Lydia] You can't just break up with me.
[text to: Lydia] I just did. Dropping the dead weight. Bigger pursuits. We've had this talk before. This just time I just mean it more.
[text to: Lydia] Take your time. I didn't mean to interrupt your fun in the supply room. Very classy, by the way.
[text to: Lydia] And that was sarcasm. I did mean to interrupt.
[text from: Lydia] I have no idea what your talking about.
[text to: Lydia] No, you do know exactly what I'm talking about. What you don't know about is the fact that McCall is actually amazing in bed.
[text from: Lydia] Excuse me?
[text to: Lydia] Did you think I was lying when I said "bigger pursuits?" He's much more appreciative than you ever were.
[text from: Lydia] I'm not reading this right now.
[text to: Lydia] Do you need photographic evidence?
[text from: Lydia] Are you telling me that you're screwing Scott?
[text to: Lydia] Well, he's mostly the one doing the screwing, but that's the gist of it, yeah. So about my stuff?
The sound of Lydia's squeal had never been so fulfilling to Jackson. The exasperated look that Scott threw his way in response had Jackson cracking up. God, what had his life become?