Chapter 1: Part 1
Title: Only the Scars You Feel
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Warnings: Adult themes and set in season 1
Spoilers: Spoilers for Season 1
Summary: Danny likes to have things planned out and have everyone in a category he's comfortable with; life has other plans. Danny/Stiles because while the heat may be obvious between Derek and Stiles its the quiet ones you have to watch.
Only the Scars You Feel
In the dangerous and tumultuous world of high school Danny was a survivor. People liked him and not just other students; teachers treated him with more respect than your average teenager and parents found him trustworthy. Perhaps the parents thought since he was no threat to their daughters he was a safe guy and few parents thought their boys could be gay so the same line of thought prevailed. He had not quite worked out why teachers liked him except the fact he worked hard and paid attention in class. Maybe they saw it as respect and but it was more a case of him not wanting to piss off the people who could influence his college applications.
Because yes, Danny usually liked to think ahead and have a plan for the important things in life.
He was still a teenager though and it was difficult to place the importance of a college degree that would be years away before the complications of doing something stupid for the boy he liked. No-one should be lulled into thinking Danny might be afraid of complication, most definitely he was not.
However there is complication and there is the increasing insanity of his core group of friends.
The very core of his group was Jackson and actually prior to this year that had also been the extent of how many people he considered close friends. They had not known each other all their lives and their families were not neighbours, yet their friendship had been almost instant. It was built upon a bond that only two teenage boys can have where their problems may be different but the answer was the same - having someone who had your back no matter what.
Jackson knew all his secrets and Danny knew most of Jackson's fears. He would never know them all because his best friend would never open up that much, not even to Danny. That was Jackson's way though and Danny wouldn't have him any other way. He accepted that Jackson had many faults. He liked him because of his more obvious character traits and loved him because of the almost invisible ones. There were countless times he'd told Jackson that he loved him and not once had the guy been uncomfortable or made some lame excuse to leave the room. Naturally Jackson had never said the same back but he gave that little smile, the one you had to really search for like reading a name on a decades old engraving, and his cheeks would flush just a little and make his dusting of freckles stand out... if you knew what to look for of course.
No. Sorry to break it to you but while Danny loved Jackson, just as the old cliche went - he was not in love with Jackson. By all laws of nature he should be; Jackson was beautiful, almost too pretty with a rockin body that was part genetic but mostly hard work and a whole load of manscaping. Truth be told Danny had spent countless hours admiring the results of Jackson's gym time and enjoyed having Jackson's near naked body next to him when they shared a bed... which happened more often than anyone but them knew about. It was comfort not sex; it had never been sex and probably never would be. Danny knew that whatever spark was needed to push them over that line just was-not-there.
Danny loved being liked by lots of people and he was not pretending when he liked them back; but he was not used to having more than one close friend. Jackson was safe and he knew where he stood - knew that line would not be crossed.
Now he somehow has several close friends and he's not even sure how it happened because up to a short time ago he barely knew them and suddenly he's over their houses and almost every time he sees Jackson one of them is there too.
Worse for Danny is that safety net has been stripped away and he's suddenly around two guys, three if you count Miquel... Derek or whatever the hell his name is - and he could easily fall for any one of them.
Of course what he didn't plan for, what Danny had not properly considered, was that the guy you fall for was not really a choice.
But as previously stated Danny is a survivor. He's been out since sixth grade and while not poor his family is not exactly wealthy and he knows people notice his ethnicity. His childhood would make the Artful Dodger himself blush and until he was adopted no foster home kept him for more than three months.
He is also one of the most popular students in school and has academic scores that could place him in a top tier college.
So if he can do all that Danny can navigate the complication of inexplicitly falling for the very last guy that makes sense. Unfortunately he cannot say no to the boy he is crushing on.
"It's not a question of if I can do it but how long we have," he sighs and rubs his neck. "This could take all night and don't even try and tell me the computer is yours - the owners will notice it missing at some point."
"Dude," Stiles says, sliding into the chair next to him. "I'm free if you are and it's not stolen... just borrowed without their express permission. Come on," he moans piteously and combines the pout and sad eyes to completely break down Danny's defences. "This is really important, I can't say why but you just have to trust me."
Sighing again Danny already knows he's going to do this but draws out the moment; laughing internally at the way Stiles bites his bottom lip and nervously fiddles with the hem of his own shirt. The fact he shows a bit of pale skin above his belt by doing this has no effect on Danny... absolutely none at all.
"Fine," Danny says, pulling the laptop over. "But I take my coffee black and you had better bloody have chocolate chip cookies or I walk right now."
It was an empty threat and Stiles probably knew it if his victory grin was anything to go by; his stupid sexy perfect smile.
Danny was so screwed.
Stiles slept in a very strange half-curled twisted and flipped over tangle of limbs and mashed lips and face into the mattress. Danny would like to say he found it endearing but it was actually quite disturbing if you stopped to think how Stiles had gone from slumping back mid-conversation to this… this Gordian knot of human flesh and cotton blanket.
For Danny's part he had not slept, the supply of hot black coffee that Stiles had actually managed to make taste good ensured his continued wakeful awareness. Chocolate chip cookies had not been found but that was no surprise – he'd made do with week old brownies and scotch-fingers. Pausing in his stalker like viewing of Stiles to brush off some of those crumbs from his own shirt Danny huffed at his lack of action.
How hard would it have been to just make a move on Stiles? It would have at least shut him up even if the move was rejected. At the start of the night Danny may have acknowledged his crush on Stiles but at that point had not considered he would be tempted to do anything. Hours later, after repeated failures to break through the laptop's security and being in close proximity to said crush, Danny's reservations had slowly crumbled. Stiles had the ability to constantly move, even when sitting and to talk about almost any subject without hesitation or embarrassment.
"Hey Danny, is Scott cute – I mean some of the girls seem to think so and he has that whole scruffy hair thing going and this one time we almost… but then you don't wanna know about that"
Danny had continued tapping keys at random at that point, pretending he wasn't even listening but he most definitely wanted to hear about it – come on! Scott was not really his type but he was still hot, and add that with Styles; he had pursed his lips and valiantly pushed the images from his head. Naturally Stiles had continued to ponder seemingly irrelevant and unconnected events.
"Hey Danny, do you and Jackson do workouts together? Because he seems kind of like a guy who would do it solo but I bet you like company – speaking of which am I good company?"
"Allison Allison Allison – it's all he has in his head; I mean she's hot… for a girl I guess, and Scott is like, well he's never been with a girl unless you count Jade in fifth grade but that was a dare and I don't think he enjoyed that as much as he claimed but then I guess him being older now any friction is good… am I right… huh Danny – I'm right aren't I?
"Yes he's wanted by the cops and yes – I see the problem of the sheriff's son harbouring a fugitive but since I know he is in fact, innocent of murder… or well, innocent of these murders because for all I know he's left a trail of bodies across five states which is kind of gross. Derek just has this way of making me do things and maybe it's the threat to rip my head off but it could be something else and I just don't know and Danny? Are you even listening to me?"
Yes, Danny had heard everything but could not speak if he had wanted to after that particular confession. He knew exactly how it felt to be unable to say no but his guts clenched as he wondered if Stiles' reason was the same as his – because he had no chance against someone like Derek. If only it had stopped there.
"He works out continuously – like every spare minute he's doing push-ups, chin-ups, crunches; there have been days there's more oily smelly body man-sweat in here than a twenty four hour gym. I think he probably needs to get laid but I mean – he's Derek; maybe he has a smokin body but the minute he opens his mouth the ladies would a run a screaming – ha ha screaming… get it?"
As if Danny had not needed a visual of Derek working out he had also had to hide the fact he was breathing deeper to try and detect that smell, because hey – Stiles may be his crush but Derek was… at that point Danny's eye twitching and erection straining had been enough to completely block out Stiles for at least a minute and by that time Stiles had moved on to wax lyrical about the failures of the educational system to cater to his particular learning style. That had been a close call and he had used the excuse of a bathroom break to get some fresh air and try and get his heart rate back to normal.
It was also Stiles absolute lack of respect for personal space. Danny was not adverse to contact, he and Jackson were quite close in that respect and his family were never short on hugs. Stiles though was some kind of ninja when it came to being almost but not quite inappropriately touching. He'd lean right in to check what Danny was working on, cheeks almost brushing then pull away right the moment before Danny was about to say something. His arm would somehow snake through, around and over Danny's torso to grab the notepad or type some search function – all the while Danny would try to say 'hey!' with his eyes but Stiles was oblivious. Worse was Stiles just being 'that close' without doing the normal 'sorry' or flinching back like most classmates would do. Danny never suffered any real bullying about being gay and he couldn't say that anyone disliked that about him but most guys still avoided contact.
After three hours of that and thighs and arms against each other Danny was ready to scream or throw Stiles across the bed… possibly both. Once again though Stiles had shown prescience and chose that time to make more coffee and call his Dad. While gone Danny breathed deep, used some of his self-defence calming techniques to push down his lust and try to think of completely unsexy things just in case Stiles was perceptive enough to detect his arousal.
It worked, kind of.
Stiles, upon returning, must have sensed a renewed coldness from Danny and seemingly doubled his efforts to be friendly and thankful, constantly telling Danny how awesome he was to be helping and that he owed him big time. At least that diatribe kept Stiles up and moving rather then next to Danny – because Danny's resistance techniques were not endless.
Of course now as he gazed back at the snoozing teen he rethought that action and asked for the hundredth time – why not just make a move. Its Stiles! He wouldn't hold it against you even if he wasn't interested and the rewards if he were up for it were…
Wow! His teenage body betrayed him for the countless time that evening and he had to adjust himself because Stiles waking up to see him sitting there with a visible hard-on would be really uncomfortable.
"Him sleeping is kind of like watching a bus crash in slow motion isn't it?"
The deep yet husky voice almost made Danny squeal like a little girl – and he had not lost that much control for a very long time. He kept it in enough to just raise an eyebrow at the guy lounging against the door frame.
"Make it a habit of sneaking into his room at night do ya?"
Derek grinned and his eyes flashed that sapphire blue. "Waiting until he's asleep is the only time I can get some work done but it looks like you've already got that idea."
Closing the laptop Danny then crossed his arms and nodded at the other laptop nearer Derek. "That's the one we've been trying to crack but it has some serious firewalls and I'm just an amateur." He was talking very quietly which made Derek bark out a laugh.
"We won't wake him, little Stilinski would sleep through a tornado." Derek stood and walked closer, using his height to intimidate the sitting teen. "I could commit screaming bloody murder and he'd just roll over – never knowing what happened here."
Danny allowed calmness to sweep over him; the initial shock of Derek's arrival was gone and he had faced scarier people than Derek Hale. There was silence as Derek gazed at him thoughtfully and gave a small nod of respect.
"You got balls kid, Stiles pretty much wet himself the first time I threatened him."
Shaking his head Danny spoke softly, not quite believing that Stiles slept that soundly. "Maybe he didn't know you that well back then – now… he knows better and so do I."
"Really?" Derek countered, his teeth flashing.
Patting the laptop he'd closed Danny smiled. "Cracking the stolen one I can't do but Stiles didn't even bother with password protection – his supposedly secret on-line journal and browser history is very interesting and his research material," he paused and swept a hand to the bookshelf where multiple books were visible; all with the same subject matter. "Let's just say not hard to figure out what's going on."
For the first time Derek looked worried but he still growled when he spoke. "Stiles has a very active imagination and I'm not sure he'd appreciate the invasion of privacy."
"I don't doubt it," Danny stood, showing Derek he was not the tallest in the room. He didn't know how and why but this had become some kind of pissing contest with Stiles as the prize. "Luckily I was invited."
Derek came in close, virtually sniffing at Danny's neck. "You reek of frustration – would it disappoint you to know I'm here every night." His smile became predatory. "No invite needed because I'm sleeping right there next to him, listening to him breathe as he dreams… as he talks in his fantasies – hearing my name on his lips."
Danny ground his teeth as Derek hissed out the word 'lips'. This was stupid.
Why was he even here and why did he think Stiles would be interested in him – even if just to be a friend.
As if reading his thoughts Derek tilted his head and gave him a pitying look. "You didn't really think… oh poor Danny boy – you just had some skills that Stiles needed and now that you've failed in that." He spread his arms and nodded at the door. "You're just not needed here anymore and don't worry." He walked over and sat next to Stiles on the bed, running his fingers over the boy's bare leg sticking out from the blanket. "I'll take care of our guy."
Danny found himself on the street and had to bite back the vomit threatening to stream forth. How could he have been so stupid to think that… it didn't matter. This is why you don't let people in – this is why trust and love were not something to just be given so easily. He had not felt such shame and utter hopelessness in years, since just after he was adopted. Luckily he had met a boy back then in a similar situation. That friendship and his then new parent's patience and love had brought him back from the brink.
He'd be damned if a stupid crush and the words of Derek friggin Hale would mark the return of that frightened and angry child he had been. Digging out his phone he called his best friend who didn't even ask or complain but just agreed to pick him up and told Danny he was staying over – no arguments.
Walking along to the nearest cross road Danny sat on the gutter and let his head drop and maybe if that was some dampness on his cheek he wasn't going to be in denial enough to say a good cry wasn't warranted.
Jackson was on his way and then things could go back to normal.
He listened as the boy's footsteps faded along the road. Derek had relaxed a little bit when he'd heard Danny's call to Jackson – at least the kid would get home safe.
Then Derek stood and sat at the desk angrily, glaring at the still sleeping Stiles and cursing himself at the cruelty he had just unleashed. Although it was all Stiles fault for dragging Danny in to a world that would only get him killed the hurt on the guy's face tugged on emotions Derek thought he had buried.
In the end though Derek knew the necessity of separating Danny from Stiles; it was the only way he could think to keep yet another of the boys safe. Stiles was already in too deep and known to both his uncle and the hunters; Danny now knew too much but had a chance to stay off the radar.
It didn't make Derek feel any less of an absolute prick for doing it though.
Falling asleep for Stiles may have only taken half a second but waking up was another story. It had been said, mostly by his father, that one of the signs of the apocalypse would be Stiles at the breakfast table bright eyed and cheerful. This morning was no different as the teen staggered almost blindly through the motions of bathroom, juice, cereal, toast and then slowly becoming self aware as he had his first coffee.
The taste of the delicious bitter liquid brought last night flashing back and Stiles raced back to his room, coffee mug in one hand and strip of half-eaten toast in the other.
"Dan-." There was no-one there and Stiles figured why should there be? Danny had probably left when he fell asleep because they had been making no progress on the Argent's computer. Being the nice guy he was Danny would have stayed just to be polite but once Stiles was asleep what reason was there to stay? He glared at the offending piece of equipment but the screen was blank; he still took it as a mocking attack on his and what he thought were Danny's mad hacking skills.
"Stupid hunters," he muttered, going to sit at his desk. "Stupid Scott," he continued, feeling too tired to face the day and just knowing his friend had probably had a full night's sleep; or if he hadn't he probably made up with and then made out with his stupid hot girlfriend. Not to mention he seemed content to wait until someone else came up with a plan to fix everything. Which left it all up to Stiles since Jackson was only interested in becoming a wolf himself and Derek had lifted up his skirt and let Uncle Pete have his way.
Sniggering at the visual Stiles finished the toast and leaned back in the chair to finish his coffee. "Stupid Der- ahhhhhh!" he shrieked as he spilt the near-scalding drink down his front and glared at the reason standing across the room. "Derek! We've spoken about boundaries right?"
"You speak a lot and I never listen... thought this would be different how?" said Derek in his low voice.
"Oh you listen," responded Stiles, dabbing at the front of his t-shirt before giving up and stripping off the offending garment. "You just like being the bad dog with obedience issues."
"Brave little human today aren't we?" Derek said with a slight smile and Stiles noticed it did not seem like his normal mean 'I hate the world' sneer. What was up with that?
"Eh," Styles shrugged, wondering how far he could push the wolf today. "Your visits to my boudoir are becoming so frequent Mr Hale that the novelty has worn off." He walked past Derek and grabbed another shirt, smiling when he realised it was the one Derek had tried on first when Danny was here. He thought it would annoy the guy when he put it on but instead Derek gave that half-smile again and touched the sleeve.
"Definitely more your colour Stiles."
What else could he do but roll his eyes; the werewolf suddenly had a sense of humour that didn't involve Stiles' pain or physical discomfort.
"So you here to help me dress or on a mission for your master?"
He expected some anger from that one but Derek seemed to deflate a little and stomped over to the bed, dropping down on it and rubbing his face in what appeared to be exhaustion. "You were there Stiles, you think I had any other choice?"
"You could have-."
"He would have ripped your lungs out," interrupted Derek. "Just to prove a point. He... he needs me, but as Alpha can't admit that, so he'd just keep killing anyone I care about until I came over."
Stiles frowned at both the words and the fact Derek was actually speaking them. "You care about me?" he asked without a hint of sarcasm and so what if his voice hitched at the end.
Barking out a laugh Derek spread his hands. "Stiles," he looked him in the eye. "You are the closest thing I have to a friend these days." He laughed again as his gaze slid off Stiles. "And if that don't make my existence just-so-fucking-perfect."
"Thanks?" Stiles responded hesitantly not sure what the hell was going on. Then he watched as Derek's head kind of rolled around to look at him again. "Wait," he said and moved forward, gripping Derek's chin in a move he would never have considered before. "Are you drunk?"
A snort and eye roll was Derek's response but his breath spoke volumes.
"Oh hell you are," muttered Stiles and shook his head before another thought occurred to him. "Just what does it take to get you drunk anyway?"
Derek laughed in response as if Stiles had said the funniest joke ever. Stiles could do nothing as the laughter continued and hoped his Dad had not come home yet - if he'd pulled an all nighter he might not be home until lunchtime so they had that going their way. What to do with an intoxicated werewolf was a whole other problem.
As Derek's laughter gave way to a suddenly serious expression and what looked like tears in his eyes Stiles gave an internal groan. A drunk and emotional Derek Hale.
Waking up in Jackson's arms was something different; not because they never slept together but because these days it was usually the other way around. They had frequently shared a bed since becoming friends but Jackson had not held him like this since they became teenagers. Probably because Danny had not really needed the comfort any more; then again maybe he had but Jackson needed it more.
Speaking of Jackson his breath was steady on the back of Danny's neck, meaning he was still asleep and that made Danny smile. He'd heard Lydia complain that Jackson slept too lightly and that she couldn't so much as move an eyelid and he woke up ruining what she expected was a night of romantic cuddling. How tempting it was to say he never had that problem with their boy - but that would just be cruel and Lydia hadn't done anything wrong. While Danny thought Jackson and Lydia's relationship was poisonous he had nothing personal against her; he actually respected Lydia for her confidence and take-no-prisoners attitude. That and she'd never asked Jackson to spend less time with Danny. She might act like an air-head but missed almost nothing and she usually gave Danny an understanding smile rather than a frown when Jackson came to him instead of her with his problems.
Jackson seemed to have problems galore lately and he'd been getting progressively worse for the last two years. His need to be the best and his strive for perfection had become an obsession. Danny would like to blame Jackson's parents but they weren't too bad; a little cold and their expectations were high but they did love their adopted son and had never, as far as Danny knew, said or done anything to make Jackson feel he wasn't wanted. No, whatever was driving Jackson was not any one thing and even Danny, who was the only person Jackson opened up to, had no real idea what was going on in his head.
Sighing softly Danny let his head shift back slightly so that Jackson's lips were by his ear; it was bordering on taking advantage but Jackson wouldn't care and Danny was feeling no better about the previous evening's happenings. He wasn't crying by the time Jackson picked him up but his mood had been dark and Derek's mocking words had been going around and around in his head. Once home it hadn't taken long for Jackson to get the story out of him. His friend had all been for kicking Stiles' ass but he'd been strangely non-committal on Derek's. Also he had been way too cool about Derek being still around and staying at Stiles' place considering Hale was the guy who had allegedly tried to kill him in the school. There was more there and Danny had every intention of asking Jackson about that today.
Anyway, after telling his pathetic story Danny had gone straight to bed, not surprised when Jackson joined him but happily surprised when Jackson had hugged him from behind and told him to sleep and not worry about the bad dreams. It was exactly what a younger Jackson had told his new friend Danny soon after meeting and staying over for the first time. Back then it was Danny who was the one broken and in need of constant support and a whole lot of patience - provided by a kid his own age who knew a little of something of what he was going through.
Jackson had been adopted younger than Danny and while he had never known his birth parents he understood Danny's fear and confusion while getting used to a new family. Danny tried never to think of his own birth parents these days but he couldn't escape their grip on him back then and it was only through his adoptive parents and Jackson that he'd been able to leave them behind where they belonged.
Last night's breakdown was not on a scale of those childhood terrors and nightmares but Danny had been so used to having it all together it was a relief that Jackson was still there for him. Now he had to deal with getting over his crush and then getting his head around the whole werewolf thing and no, he had not mentioned that little bit of information to Jackson. Admitting he liked Stiles was one thing, Jackson had thought it weird but accepted it none-the-less; supernatural creatures though? Danny was pretty sure Jackson might just suggest professional help for that one and he was not ready to be taken away by the men in white coats.
As he drifted off to sleep again Danny did have one last troubling thought.
Exactly why did he himself have no problem accepting the existence of werewolves?
"That's right, now back to the nose and then out – heh heh."
"What's so? Oh very fun... funny," Derek held back a burp and tried not to let the claws out and wipe the laughter off Stiles' face. The young teen had been getting Derek to mirror his motions claiming it would sober him up quicker than sleeping it off. Yet while Stiles said one thing his hands would do another and Derek would mirror the movement rather than the direction so right now he was patting the top of his own head instead of swinging his arm out as instructed. Derek was even more bemused as to why he was going along with anything Stiles suggested in the first place.
Stiles had curled over in laughter on the bed they were sharing, holding his stomach because the situation was just so funny apparently. Wanting to sneer and threaten his life Derek instead laughed himself; the alcohol still heavy in his system and preventing his usual default setting of making Stiles wet his pants with fear coming to the fore.
"That's like the third time," Stiles could barely finish the sentence he was laughing so hard. "I can't believe you keep falling for it."
"Two bottles of Jack and a third of vod-," this time he did burp, loudly. "Ka," he finished with a flourish and tried to refocus his watery eyes. "That's why." His own breath was producing fumes that could knock out small mammals and maybe some humans. Stiles was shaking his head and seemed finally over his giggling fit, the latest of many since he'd been occupying Derek. The mildly sober part of Derek, the bit that remained at least, wondered why the kid was bothering since Derek had only ever treated him with disdain and let's face it – hostility.
"Because for all your lesser qualities there does appear to be heart in there, and I've always been a soft touch for tears."
Shit! He'd voice his thoughts, lucky he hadn't been thinking about... that other thing. Derek clamped down on any errant thoughts just in case his mouth was still saying things his brain hadn't caught up to. Change the subject! Wait – tears?
"I was not crying," he tried to hiss but knew it was just slurred.
"Right," said Stiles, eyes wide. "Of course you weren't."
This was not an argument he was going to win in this state. "Well," he waved his arm, the one he wasn't laying on. "Never claimed to have no emotions you know."
"No, you revealed plenty since I've known you," stated Stiles, counting off his fingers. "Anger, rage, frustration, anger, twisted humour, anger." He stopped and grinned. "Melancholy was a nice change Derek."
"I..." it filtered through that Stiles was not mocking him, not completely. "Thanks."
"No problems, just hoping if I am least a little nice now you might remember not to rip my throat out later – now drink," Stiles thrust a large bottle of water at him and Derek had no choice but to comply.
After finishing it in one go Derek shook his head and felt the fog lifting a little at last. "I wouldn't hurt you Stiles, thought that was clear." Stiles expression was a little dubious. "Well no permanent damage okay."
Stiles nodded at that and stood up, moving to the stolen computer and tapping it uselessly. "In that case I should probably tell you that my big plan to defeat good ol' Uncle Pete rested on accessing these files – but now with you here I might not need them."
Derek frowned, what Stiles really meant that he'd been hatching a plan to get rid of both Peter and anyone in his pack, Derek being on that list. "What were you looking for?"
Chewing his lip Stiles looked around the room before making eye contact. "The hunters would know an Alpha's weakest points, things us mere humans could use to kill one." Due to Derek's confused look Stiles stood and used his hands to emphasize. "Derek, you're one and only way was to gang up on the Alpha and defeat him through strength alone – still think that can work?"
No. Derek didn't have to say it.
"And the Alpha thinks the same way – he is cautious of human trickery and werewolf strength so that means we use his own prejudices against him."
"He'll ignore an unarmed human, seeing them as no threat – and he'll only view another werewolf as a direct physical threat, not thinking one of his own kind would attack in any way except using their own wolfy powers. Add to this I bet hunters would never work with werewolves to hunt their own and being good little pack animals you guys wouldn't work with humans, not in a good way anyway – that nurse, she still gives me the creeps."
Stiles got more excited the longer he spoke, his arms waving everywhere and his face animated. His eyes were so clear and every now and then his tongue would zip out and moisten his lips. Also as he moved his shirt would ride up showing a toned stomach and the shirt was a little snug on the biceps, even on him. It was easy thought Derek, to forget that Stiles was quite fit himself; it just wasn't as noticeable around people like Scott, Jackson, Danny and of course himself. He could see why Danny liked him.
"Um," Stiles' eye twitched as he looked at Derek and he had also stopped moving around. "But now its different."
"Different?" Derek wished he could follow where Stiles was going but the downward slide of his binge was beginning and it was hard to stay awake let alone listen properly.
"Yeah, cause Scott... and now you – you have me," Stiles' grin was kind of infectious and Derek found himself matching the stupid smile. "And Jackson, he's a selfish prick but not a psycho. If we work together I bet there's a way to trick Peter into slipping up – but we need to know the Alpha's biggest weakness."
Derek's smile changed to one of anticipation. Stiles may be on to something and as sleep beckoned Derek managed to mumble out enough to get the kid thinking. "You already know his weakness." At Stiles' questioning expression Derek laughed but then sobered. "What put him in the hospital in the first place?"
"Tell me again why I'm here with someone I barely know and fairly sure not attracted to?" whispered Danny out of the corner of his mouth to Jackson while his 'date' was turned the other way.
Jackson's eyes were way too wide and innocent looking. "I thought you'd like him."
"Not even a little bit, I mean he does kind of look a little bit like Sti-."
"Gonna stop you right there Jacks," hissed Danny and smiled because his date had rejoined them. "Just give me a drink." Thankfully Jackson had the good stuff, Stolichnaya if he wasn't mistaken. The burn helped him almost forget why they were arguing... oh yeah – The Plan.
The Plan was naturally all Jackson and involved coming to the dance with someone else, somehow this would make Stiles think he was missing out and become jealous, miraculously making him fall into Danny's arms at the end of the night.
It was doomed to fail before it had begun and not just because it was Jackson's plan. Big flaw was if Stiles had no interest in the first place then how did Danny being with someone else make him think anything except 'aww, Danny's got a boyfriend'. Jackson had good intentions but his big mistake was thinking that just because he thought Danny was all kinds of awesome and anyone should fall at his feet if Danny wanted them – the world really did not work that way. Of course Danny had no real idea why he had gone along with 'The Plan' if he knew it was certain to fail big time.
Jackson getting him to agree to it while cooking him his favourite breakfast (scrambled eggs in bacon fat) dressed in only boxers and an apron may have had something to do with it.
Danny was only human.
"Go, dance – have fun," Jackson winked at them and Danny wanted to scowl, he wanted to pout and kick his feet like a five year old but couldn't. His need to be polite kicked in instead and he grabbed what's-his-name by the elbow, smiled and led him to the dance floor. Worst case scenario he actually enjoyed the dance and maybe got to make out with the guy.
'Cause he did look a little like Stiles and Danny had a good imagination.
Great, they'd been here ten minutes already and not only had he not scored any alcohol (damn his Dad for finding his secret stash!) but his life-long dream of a date with Lydia was proving why dreams should never come true.
She was boring.
Stiles already knew she could be arrogant, a bitch and kind of needy – but he had thought she would at least warm up a little, make conversation and with her smarts you'd think her humour would be better.
After the umpteenth failure at a conversation that did not involve Jackson, Stiles harrumphed deep inside and considered that staying at home and counting ceiling cracks may have been more fun than this. Just as the overwhelming need to dump his date and follow up on his plan to track down Derek became unbearable Stiles spotted Danny dancing half-heartedly with some guy he was sure might be on the track team.
They just didn't look right together, but maybe Danny hadn't wanted to come alone and his choices were limited. A little thought at the back of Stiles' head whispered that maybe Danny did have more choices if Stiles had been man enough to do more than flirt ineptly with the guy the other night.
Yet here he was – not enjoying himself with Lydia while Danny was obviously not enjoying himself with... lean, pasty looking track dude. He was tempted to just go over and dance with Danny but that would be rude to them... and probably Lydia.
Still, thought Stiles, if they happened to bump into them on the dance floor maybe a switch could be arranged. Marvelling at his ability to formulate a fool-proof plan on the spot Stiles spun to face Lydia, hoping his duplicity would not show.
"You want to dance?"
Taking a seat Danny just nodded at whatever his date was offering to go get him and sighed loudly, making sure not to look at the dance floor and see Stiles dancing with Lydia.
That's not fair he scolded himself. It was not as if he had announced his interest in Stiles; he had in fact done more to show disinterest. Oh a drink! He grabbed the cup and sniffed it, hoping to whatever gods he probably should believe in that someone was drinking more than just soda.
No such luck.
This night was fucked and why was he even staying here? The music was okay he guessed, and the place had not been overdone with any stupid theme like 80s or 70s or, he mentally vomited, the 60s. He really had to find Jackson and the vodka, it was his only chance to get through this evening without hitting anyone and hopefully up that imagined inept kiss with what's-his-name to a drunken grope.
"Danny – Danny dance with me!"
"What?" What – Scott, looking kind of sweaty and scared was asking him to dance. It was obviously some kind of desperate move to make Allison jealous – who would do something that pathetic to get the attention of someone they liked? Oh! Danny winced inside – you, you dumbass!
"Dance with me."
"No." Talk about needy, he started to feel sorry for Allison if Scott was this kind of pathetic when he wanted something.
He also didn't seem to understand no since Danny found himself literally dragged onto the floor and just decided to go with it, what was the worst that could happen? Besides Scott seemed to really want to dance and wow, his body felt really toned. Danny had seen the evidence of Scott having bulked up in the locker room but to feel that muscle.
"McCall you're not supposed to-!"
Coach? This night just had to get stranger. As coach started spluttering Danny felt his earlier frustration grow and he glared at the older man.
"What the hell are you do-... what the hell are you doing?"
He was certain that coach was not a homophobe but his actions and words screamed otherwise and Danny would be damned if he was going to be made to feel this was wrong... well it was wrong, it was not his date and not even the guy he wanted to be dancing with. Feeling Scott latch on a little tighter Danny gave him a knowing smirk and let their chests move closer – if coach wanted a show who was he to disappoint?
The poor guy continued spluttering and while he almost felt sorry for him Danny figured Coach had only himself to blame.
"Thanks dude I owe you." Then Scott was gone and his date was back.
Shrugging Danny smiled nicely. "Let's talk," he said softly and led them off the floor.
"Why you looking so heartbroken... surely you knew she was still in love with Jackson?"
Stiles had to squint to see it was Danny leaning on the wall next to him – they were in the back where there was almost no light which might almost explain how he got there without Stiles noticing – that or he was a ninja.
"That's oddly comforting," he answered, clarifying with a smile. "Not that she still loves him, but that I'm not the only one who noticed."
"Oh, cause I was going for the awkward factor," Danny shrugged which Stiles only just noticed in the shadows. How did he find him back here anyway? After sending Lydia after Jackson it seemed like a good idea to hide away and just for a moment pretend that he was a normal teenager with normal teenage problems.
"And then when you got all sad about it I'd hug you and that would hopefully lead to something else and then... well I hadn't thought past that point."
Stiles did a double take at Danny's admission and couldn't help but grin; maybe tonight would not be a complete loss. He leant over so their shoulders brushed and he heard Danny's breath hitch, like he had been expecting a more negative reaction from Stiles. Figuring he'd better just be up front about it Stiles pushed off the wall, spun around and placed his hands on both sides of Danny; their faces close together. "I have," he whispered, and he really had because it had been yesterday since he'd popped any medication and his mind was running at a hundred miles an hour. "I'm thinking we skip this dance, score some booze, take my jeep and see where things end up," he virtually breathed the words into Danny's mouth which was open from amazement.
Danny then smiled, his teeth flashing in the dark and Stiles gasped as all the errant thoughts evaporated and he was able to focus on just the one thing – the one person so close he could feel his body heat, smell his scent and hear him breathe deep as Stiles' hand dropped to brush his cheek. He moved that little bit closer and their lips touched, just the barest of soft skin against another and every piece of Stiles told him this was right; that this was one of the things he could do that was about him. Not about Scott, or Derek or supernatural creatures; just about what he wanted and what he could have.
His phone went off, so loud in the little bubble they had created and Stiles mentally groaned but knew he had to answer it.
Chewing his lip and resisting the urge to rip the phone from Stiles' hands Danny let the rage just boil inside. The call was from Lydia, that much was evident from what he was hearing, that and she still couldn't find Jackson.
Of course Stiles agreed to try and help and with a shrug at Danny he called Jackson's number. By the phone's light Danny could see that Stiles was losing that brief moment of need and lust that he had felt more than seen when they were about to kiss. Danny turned away and just grunted when Stiles made some excuse and ran off.
As the music played on and he watched the couples dance Danny let the darkness blanket him and worked hard to get his anger under control. He was used to being the guy in the background when it came to Jackson but it was not meant to happen when he was getting intimate with the guy he liked. His heartbeat finally slowed and his anger melted away as he realised that although they were interrupted he and Stiles had been close and about to get a lot closer.
Stiles liked him back!
He would have to thank Jackson because apparently, the Plan did work.
His phone chirped and even though he was holding it Danny waited five seconds before answering since the caller ID said Stiles and if he answered too quickly that would seem needy and he didn't want to seem too... oh god he was sounding like Stiles inside his head and that was either bad, pathetic or a mixture of the two.
"Danny, man I am sooo glad you picked up."
That made him smile but he was too cool to actually do a little dance or anything; it was stupid enough that he was still at the dance even though it was really late and the only people left were him, a few other students, the cops and the cleaning crew. Stupid because he thought Stiles might actually come back and also because Jackson was his ride, and he'd gone to the hospital with Lydia.
"What? You called Danny, why did you call Dan – he's not involved Stilinski and if he gets hurt I will fucking-."
"Stiles, why is Jackson with you?" Because that was definitely his best friend's voice in the background.
"Yes! To both of you – Danny, tell me you're still at school."
"Um," admitting it was almost as bad as still being here. "Yeah," he said, not able to come up with a good lie on the spot.
"What! I know what you're thinking and Danny will not-."
"Shut it or I crash this car right now."
"Guys," Danny wanted to shout into the phone but the cops were far too close. "What the hell is going on?"
"Long story," huffed Stiles as the phone made some shuffling noises then the background growl of Jackson's car was more noticeable. "Right, we're on speaker phone – anything to say Jackson or will I sideswipe that rusty looking tractor... no? Thought so."
"Stiles," admonished Danny. "Don't play me off against the car – I'm not sure I want to know the result." That got a chuckle from Stiles and a muffled splutter from Jackson.
"So Danny," continued Stiles. "You're good at chemistry right? I mean the lab kind, not like relationships – because that guy tonight, so not your type."
"Stiles! Seriously," Jackson's voice boomed out. "Life and death and you take the time to flirt... badly I might add."
"Jackson set that up," explained Danny with a half laugh – life and death? It had to be the werewolf situation but he could not say that in hearing of the cops. "And I like your flirting, its cute."
The line was free of voices but Danny could almost hear the looks Stiles and Jackson were probably shooting each other.
"But er, yeah – I know my bases from my acids."
The line continued to be silent for a second more before he heard a snort from Jackson. "It means yes you idiot – god! No wonder Scott fails so miserably with you as his side-kick."
"Hey! I am not the Robin to his Batman – more like, I don't know... Green Arrow to Superman."
"Oh well that just confirms you're gay for Scott, sorry Dan," yelled Jackson. "Looks like Scott got there first."
"No," Stiles snapped and Danny could imagine he was giving Jackson a death glare right about now. "I meant cause the Green Arrow is human but still awesome and kicks arse while... you know what Jackson, how do you have any friends?"
"So... chemistry?" asked Danny, already moving down the hall towards the labs.
"Yeah – we kind of need you to make a firebomb."
Danny stopped in his tracks and stared at the phone before bringing it back to his ear. "Seriously?"
The one thing Stiles and Jackson did seem to agree upon was that Danny could not come along – no matter how much he demanded. They took the bombs, made him promise not to try and follow and left.
So once again he was left at the school and contemplating the walk home. On any other night it would not have been a problem – forty minutes tops but for some reason he just felt too exhausted. Calling his Dad he smiled at the old man's voice and the way he asked no questions but said he'd be there after his shift finished in an hour.
Some things were still normal.
The cop that was staying all night to keep an eye on the crime scene nodded when he explained his Dad was on the way and just told him to stay in sight. There was an ebook he had to finish on his phone so he whipped it out, hopped onto the ledge by the steps and tried not think about his friends in deadly danger.
Every five minutes he double checked his messages just in case for some weird unrelated reason his phone's message alert failed.
Great. His best friend, his soon to be (hopefully) boyfriend, his new friends Scott and Allison and yes, even Lydia; they were all in danger and there was nothing he could do.
"Fuck!" he cursed and slammed his phone on his thigh, smiling sheepishly at the cop who glanced over at the outburst. Breathing deep he practiced his calming techniques and absently traced the raised ridge of scar tissue on the side of his thigh. It shouldn't calm him but for some reason it did. The reason he had it was not a good memory but then it reminded him that there are worse things and bigger monsters.
That didn't mean his friends could not still be killed by the monsters they were facing and maybe he was no hero but making him stay back when they put themselves in such danger.
"Hey." The voice was soft and for a moment Danny thought he had imagined it but then he looked up and there he was.
"Stiles," he kind of cheered and jumped up, enveloping the smaller boy in a tight hug then pushing him back at arm's length to check him over. "You're okay right, no injuries – and Jacks... Scott?"
"All fine," Stiles kind of laughed and put his hand over Danny's that was still on his shoulder. "Well all the good guys are, I don't know about Lydia yet but we're gonna check later."
Stiles frowned and bit his lip. "Dead." He moved in and put his other arm around Danny's waist. "He was a psycho murderer and would have ended up probably massacring us all but I kind of feel... I don't know."
"Guilty," Danny supplied.
"Yeah," Stiles mumbled into Danny's neck. "It was fire that made him crazy and I go and use it to finish him off – it was all kinds of horrible."
"Its what separates us from the monsters," whispered Danny, his own memories nagging at him after all these years, and the fact he had made the firebomb for them. "No matter their crimes we regret taking a life, even when it saves others."
Stiles shifted to look into his eyes. "You look so sad," he kissed him briefly and suddenly. "One day I'll ask how you understand but not tonight."
"Speaking of," Danny let his eyes roam around the area and was pleased to change the subject. "Where's the car?"
"Jackson dropped me at the corner," Stiles managed to look sheepish. "I was kind of hoping we could, I don't know." If he'd been a ten year old Danny could imagine Stiles would be rubbing his toe in the dirt and suggestion a sleep over; which is what he himself wanted to do but with a more adult outcome.
"My Dad's picking me up," he said and Stiles look of disappointment was priceless. "But if we tell him your Dad will be home soon I bet he'll drop us at yours."
The frown became a toothy grin and Danny is sure he heard Stiles mutter 'win' under his breath.
His Dad asked very few questions apart from the unspoken ones with a raised eyebrow, which Danny answered in the same non-verbal way with a grin and nod. Obviously his Dad figured the Sherriff's son was not a stranger or person of ill-repute and gave his okay with a wink. They first went home to get Danny a change of clothes but in very short time they were going through the Stilinski front door.
Expecting some kind of hesitation from Stiles it was a good surprise for Danny to be slammed against the wall and have his mouth ravished without so much as an offer of a drink.
Danny was not going to complain.
He dropped his bag and went with it. They stumbled up towards Stiles' bedroom shedding most of their clothing along the way, bruising lips against each other and knocking over at least one lamp.
Once inside the bedroom Stiles paused to ignite a candle on his dresser, mumbling about Scott and meditation but Danny didn't care – it made this better and he had no regrets seeing Stiles in nothing but his jockey-briefs in the flickering light with his arousal very obvious. The boy scratched the back of his head and gave Danny a smirk.
"Its corny I know but I want to see you Danny, all of you and the fluorescent desk lamp ain't exactly romantic."
"I don't care," Danny said huskily and moved his hands to undo his dress pants, smiling as Stiles watched his every movement and visibly stopped breathing when he dropped them to reveal his own erection pushing against his underwear.
Stiles stepped forward like he was hypnotized and put a shaking hand to Danny's bare chest, tracing his fingers down to linger at just above his hipbones. Danny's own breath hitched at the contact; they may have just had tongues down each other's throats but this felt so much more intimate.
"I don't," Stiles spoke softly, hesitantly. "I've never..."
"I really haven't much either," Danny reassured him and kissed those beautiful lips, his hand moving Stiles hips towards him so that they both gasped at the contact. "We," he licked his own lips. "We don't have do anything, or much more than this if you like."
"Oh I wanna do stuff," Stiles grin was infectious and he grinded against Danny. "But yeah, tonight let's just do this for awhile."
"Don't think I'll last that long," grunted Danny as Stiles continued to push his cock against Danny's; underwear or not it felt amazing and Danny knew he would blow in a very short time. "Wait," he suddenly squeezed Stiles' hip, stopping the movement. "Your father?"
"Working all night," said Stiles, kissing along his shoulder to his neck; making Danny shiver and almost unable to speak – but he had one more question.
"What about Derek?"
Stiles froze and stared into his eyes. "Derek?"
"Yeah," Danny gulped, not wanting to bring this up but he suddenly realised that they were going to do this and if Derek were in the picture it would be complicated.
"He... won't be staying here anymore I think," Stiles explained, still sounding a little confused.
"But what about you and-," Danny bit his own lip and squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see Stiles expression. "You and him?"
"Me and," Stiles burst out laughing and fell back against Danny's chest. "Absolutely-positively-not," he licked up to Danny's ear and tucked a finger through the hem of his briefs. "All yours Danny – never his... never was."
Danny felt the smirk spread across his face and the electricity shoot down his spine and straight into his cock at those words.
He lifted Stiles up, the other boy wrapping his legs around Danny's as he guided them to the bed, unceremoniously falling onto it with Stiles beneath him. This time it was Danny who pushed in and slid their erections together with only thin pieces of fabric between the two throbbing pricks. Stiles continued to nuzzle his neck while Danny sucked on his ear, their moans growing in intensity and hands roaming freely. Danny went first, the familiar build up hitting lighting fast and then he was calling out Stiles' name and shuddering in pure pleasure as he shot into his briefs. Stiles was still moaning but wasn't there yet so Danny palmed him through the material and with firm fast strokes brought him to the edge and completely over it; the boy clinging to Danny so hard he was sure to leave finger marks and Danny's name on Stiles' lips was almost enough to make Danny go again.
In moments Stiles had wriggled out from underneath and Danny rolled over; they both lay on their backs, gasping for breath and staring at the candle's light flickering on the ceiling. After a couple of minutes their breathing returned to normal and Danny felt the cool breeze across the sheen of sweat across his chest. Stiles must have felt it too because he pulled a sheet across them and snuggled into Danny's side, murmuring, "Yours." His breathing evened out to sleep after a minute and Danny luxuriated in having that warmth at his side and he brushed a kiss across Stiles forehead.
As sleep came for him too Danny knew tomorrow would bring new challenges to his perfectly planned High School life but figured that had been doomed the moment Stiles had asked that question. He decided to answer it at last.
"Yes Stiles, you are incredibly attractive to this gay guy." Sleep finally claimed him with a smile still on his lips.
Derek stood in the shadows across from the Sherriff's house and resisted listening too deeply; there were boundaries after all. Once he sensed they had both fallen asleep he quickly made his way into the house and extinguished the candle with his fingers – naked flame was not something he could ignore. He then sat softly at the desk, careful to make no sound and watched the sleeping teens for awhile; part of him acknowledged the creepiness of this yet the emotional side satisfied that they had found each other and that his pack was safe.
It was something the hunters would never understand.
It was something Peter had not understood, not completely.
Pack was not about bloodlines, or being a wolf – it was about who you cared for and who cared for you in return. As the energy of being an Alpha continued to stretch and soak into his cells Derek finally allowed a smile to ghost across his lips. It was as if as he came more and more into being Alpha his bitterness and anger was evened out into calm and contentedness. He knew he had a long way to go before being anywhere near happy or even somewhat normal – but he sensed that this is why Peter had been so desperate to have a pack; even if he hadn't known it at the time. It was not about power or authority but this almost complete feeling that filled that dark emptiness inside.
He was Alpha and he had a family to look after. They may not be perfect and if he was honest they were mostly idiots.
But they were his.
To be continued in Only The Scars You Feel Part II
Authors note: you can consider this a minor ending; a somewhat happy ending. Part II will explore the pack a bit more, Danny’s past and other relationships that I cannot resist... Jackson/Scott anyone?
Chapter 2: Part 2 Chapter 6
Our boys are together at last but now other reltionships are forming in the pack. As a werewolf Jackson has changed but just how much and can the pack really be beaten by a bunch of humans?
The sound of running steps echoed in his ears like the runner was directly in front of him but Jackson had listened to Derek’s instructions and knew it was in reality happening over a hundred yards from where he stood.
“Who do you think it was?” Scott said softly beside him.
Jackson shrugged. “Alison I think, steps were too close together to be Danny or Stiles... although I don’t know, does Stiles run like a girl?”
“Oh come on McCall,” Jackson grinned and patted the other werewolf on the shoulder. “Just kidding, you know me and Stiles are tight now.”
“Only cause Danny would kick your ass otherwise, wolf strength or not.”
“Yeah,” Jackson nodded his agreement. It was strange; he should be weirded out more about his best friend getting with his former annoyance factor number one. Then again he’d not seen Danny happier and the more time Jackson was around Stiles he realised the guy was pretty cool, if still annoying. He cocked his head as another noise interrupted his thoughts, he nudged Scott and led him into a thicket of shrubs.
They came into a clearing, illuminated by the half moon and both went still at the sight. Stiles was bound and gagged against a fallen log, his eyes glaring at them with what Jackson knew Danny called the dread Stilinski stare. Apparently Stiles’ father had given it to Danny when the two had been caught naked in the lounge room.
Scott snorted and turned to face away from Stiles, Jackson joined him and they put their heads together – at this distance no-one except Derek could hear a word spoken.
“Derek must have caught him and is using him as bait,” Jackson said in their muttered wolf-speak as Stiles called it.
“For us?” asked Scott and Jackson raised his eyebrows – really?
“To draw in the hunters,” Jackson explained, ignoring Scott’s stupidity for the moment.
“Oh yeah, of course,” Scott gave him that damned sideways squint. “But that wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Well Derek probably changed it, testing us or just improvising – his prerogative as Alpha.”
“Okay,” Scott glanced back at Stiles and winced. “Those ropes look kind of tight, he’ll be pissed when we let him out.”
“Focus Scott,” Jackson said a little louder. “For this exercise Stiles is a hunter, we can’t have compassion for him.” He cupped Scott around the neck to bring them in close again. “Our lives could depend on this one day, Stiles will understand.”
“Fine,” huffed Scott, pouting a little and Jackson hid his smile – Danny was right, Scott could be adorable when getting a little pissed. Of course no-one but Danny knew that while he kept up a front Jackson really did like Scott – a bit more than was healthy at times. Since becoming a wolf he had even acknowledged to himself that this attraction had probably started a while back but he had hid it under aggression and jealousy. Now that he was a werewolf, with all the benefits that came with it, Jackson knew that he was no longer that guy. Danny and even Lydia had made comment that he was back to the good person they’d known in freshman year.
A twig snapped off to their right and they both faced the sound, using their enhanced vision to see but there was too much foliage. Too late Jackson realised while their attackers were hidden he and Scott were standing in the open, in moonlight.
Scott grunted and fell forward, a blunt headed arrow plopping to the ground after hitting his back.
Jackson swore and crouched down to make himself less of a target. By the rules Scott was out of the game, if it had been real the arrow could have had a poisoned head which would either have killed or disabled Scott.
“You’re an idiot,” he muttered to Scott, playing the game by lying flat on the ground. As if to ignore the importance of their blunder Scott crossed his arms over his bare chest and grinned up at the night sky.
“Think I’ll catch up on my stargazing while they pick you and Derek off,” Scott muttered with a chuckle.
“This is serious,” Jackson said in his normal voice. “Hunters may consider it a win by sacrificing one of their own but we’re pack – either we all survive or we all lose.”
“Settle down tiger,” Scott said with that half grin. “Its just a game.”
“Its not just a game Scott!” yelled Jackson, then he was being barrelled over and he didn’t even have time to wolf up before he was being held down by Derek.
“What the hell,” muttered Derek. “The whole forest can hear your little lovers tat – we’re meant to be playing at stealth.”
“Lovers?” Jackson bristled at how close Derek’s little jibe was to the truth of how he felt and tried to push the Alpha off, which was like trying to move a mountain. “We’re just pack mates, I wouldn’t even talk to McCall if it wasn’t for - .”
“Oh just shut up,” said Derek impatiently and stood up, pulling a still red faced Jackson with him. “She’s moved out of range so we’re safe, for now.”
Jackson pointed at where they’d heard the original sound. “Danny must be that way, we heard -.”
“Heard! Use your other senses,” interrupted Derek harshly, but Jackson obeyed.
He could not see anything, sound was also out at this distance since he could only detect the heartbeats closest and nothing but damned crickets, so he inhaled deeply through his nose. The scents of the forest almost overwhelmed him; dirt, decomposing leaf litter, animal dung. He could smell Derek, Scott further off but they were familiar scents – safe scents. Closer than the edge of the clearing he could smell Stiles, and his frustration at being bound. A second smell wafted across nearer the edge of the clearing but it was Stiles again, he must have dropped a shoe or jacket when Derek was binding him.
“I can’t detect him,” he said softly to Derek. “He must have moved off like Alison did, Danny can be really quiet when he needs to be.”
“I’ve noticed,” Derek said with a hint of humour and a glance back at Stiles.
They faced the forest again and Jackson said nothing, he like Derek waited for any suggestion of where the hunters had gone. He enjoyed these few moments, just him and his Alpha, the man who had turned him and made his life so much better. Jackson knew that he had basically forced Derek into it, preying on his empathy and the fact as a newly empowered Alpha his judgement was off. He could have died, strength and health had little to do with how the bite would go – turning him or death. After a night of sweating out a fever and feeling the burn of the open wound Jackson had finally felt the aches disappear and his body heal. He was a werewolf and suddenly many of his fears just evaporated as if they never were. Stupidly enough he saw them for that were, a naive and youthful identify crisis based on a mixture of baseless fear of rejection and yes, his bloody stupid sexuality issue. Having Danny as his best friend should have taught him being gay was nothing to fear but knowing and knowing were two different things.
So here he was. Werewolf, part of something and accepting himself for the first time. Having Derek helped and yes, their Alpha and Beta relationship may have gone further than mentor/student but Derek was only a couple of years older and surprisingly had no problem with Jackson makig all the first moves. While he may be falling for Scott more and more Jackson had needs and so did Derek – mutually beneficial. Derek must have sensed what he was thinking about, or could smell his arousal because he nudged Jackson sharply.
“Eyes on the prize little wolf, this will be for real one day and I will not see my pack destroyed.”
“Sorry,” said Jackson. “But if it helps I’ll stay over tonight.”
He looked at Derek who said nothing but did smile lecherously.
Their attention was suddenly brought to the front as Alison stepped out from the undergrowth, arrow notched and drawn.
“Bad move Alison,” Derek said. “I can snatch that out of the air before it hits – you should have left Stiles to his fate, now I’ll take you both out.” In an instant Derek went in to his Beta mode and Jackson followed. “By the way,” Derek growled, looking at Jackson. “Good move on using Stiles as bait.”
Jackson felt his wolf features melt away at those words and his stomach dropped out. Derek must have seen it in his expression because he swore loudly and spun to face Stiles.
Who was no longer seated but standing with a gun out. A rapid series of compressed-air pops followed and Derek’s naked chest was peppered in a mixture of paint colours.
“Fuck!” yelled Jackson and jumped forward, rolling on the grass and coming up only three steps from Stiles, his hands became claws and he went for the kill. Instead multiple impacts along his side made him look to his right. More paintballs raked across his shoulder and one got him right in the temple, making him shout in pain and fall to his knees.
“Shit!” he heard Danny’s voice and then an arm was helping him lift his face.
“I’m fine,” Jackson snapped a little harshly and pushed Danny back, wiping off the smear himself, the bruise healing before it could show.
“Hey – not cool,” Stiles said, pushing Jackson from the front. “You lost now take it like the wolf-boy you are.”
“Screw you Stilinski,” Jackson growled, his anger growing along with his claws and teeth. “You tricked us – that’s not fair.”
Stiles just laughed but did take a step back, watching him warily. “First – no rules said we couldn’t trick you and what makes you think hunters wouldn’t try this... admittedly they probably don’t have my brains and Alison’s wicked aim.”
“And my sneaky stealth skills,” added Danny, smiling tightly – obviously still pissed at Jackson’s aggression.
“And just how the fuck did you do that Danny,” Jackson muttered loudly, his anger still rising – all control suddenly gone. They were mocking him and it brought back too many memories. “I’ve heard of sneaky fucking gays but that is ridiculous.”
“Hey!” shouted Stiles again and stepped forward, seemingly unaware of how wolfed out Jackson was. “Take that back dickhead.”
“Or what,” sneered Jackson, and raised a claw threateningly. How great it would be to rip him open, the sweet spray of blood and the acrid smell of entrails, then he could feast on the still warm organs - .
Searing hot pain ripped through his head, as if a thousand needles were being pressed into his brain and Jackson went down on his knees, screaming and holding his temple in agony.
A hand on his shoulder and one wrapped around to lay over his heart immediately calmed him; it was Scott hugging him from behind and whispering softly in his ear. Small words like ‘calm’ ‘easy’ ‘safe’ ‘friends’.
It worked and Jackson felt his body return to human form, the pain disappeared and his arms flopped at his sides. He breathed and stared at Stiles and Danny through quickly tearing eyes. He had been about to... he could not believe it and bent over, wanting to puke but all that came out was bile.
“Hey hey hey,” Scott still held him and was rubbing his back. “You’re okay Jacks, everything’s okay – Stiles is fine, Danny’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Jackson sobbed out. “Sorry.” Yes he was sniffling but at that moment couldn’t care – he’d thought he had it all under control and yet in an instant had been ready to disembowel one of his friends – because Stiles was definitely in the friends category. Hell he was Pack!
“Stiles I’m so sorry,” he whimpered out, looking up and subconsciously baring his throat in submission. Stiles had beat them, he was only human but had used himself as bait and tricked them into a deadly cross-fire which in real-life would have cost them their lives.
He saw Stiles look uncertainly over his shoulder, at where Derek probably was and must have given Stiles some signal because the guy leant in and gently stroked Jackson’s bare neck.
“We’re good Jackson, its forgotten already.”
That seemed to do it and Jackson felt the tension and gut-wrenching fear leave his body. He panted in the aftermath and felt like all his limbs had turned to jelly, if Scott had still not been holding him he would have further collapsed in a heap.
“Its not like Scott hasn’t tried to eat me on several occasions,” joked Stiles, standing back and being joined by Danny who hugged him in close. “I mean, not eat as in – but you know,” Stiles spluttered at his boyfriend.”
Jackson managed to smile at that. He did like the two of them together but Stiles but still Stiles, always worried about Danny’s judgement, as if he couldn’t tell that Danny was absolutely 100 per cent in love with him.
“Well that was interesting,” commented Alison, who walked up and looked into Jackson’s eyes. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Jackson took a shuddering breath and sat back, not caring that he was leaning back into Scott in front of everyone. For Scott’s part he removed his hand from Jackson’s bare chest but stayed in place to support him.
“What the hell was that?” Alison asked but Jackson saw it was directed at Derek, not him.
Derek stood with his arms crossed, regarding them all with a very thoughtful expression, one which looked both concerned but somewhat pleased at the same time.
“It means we’re becoming a true pack, a family – and attacking your own family is almost impossible for a werewolf, had Jackson actually drawn blood he would have suffered for the rest of the night.”
“But Peter?” asked Stiles.
“Was insane,” Derek said with a sigh. “Its why it took me so long to work him out – no normal wolf could so easily attack and kill their own blood.”
“But Stiles is not my... he’s not blood Derek, none of you are.”
“No,” Derek said but his smile grew bigger. “We’re all orphans in our own way Jackson, I’ve never known a pack like ours, humans and werewolves, hunters even,” he nodded at Alison. “What is important is that we see each other as pack – maybe by choosing who is important we make the bond stronger.”
“Aww,” said Stiles softly and patted Jackson on the head, obviously bolder after what Derek had said. “Jackson chooses to like me.”
“What’s not to like,” Danny said quietly which earned him a kiss from his boyfriend.
Jackson wanted to sneer and say something to deny what Stiles was implying but Scott’s hand on his shoulder tightened just a little and he kept his mouth shut. He turned to look at Scott and saw a such a soft and caring expression that he felt his heart beat a little faster and had an urge to just bring their faces together, damned who saw it. Derek interrupted though and lifted them both up with no effort.
“Back to basics though – everyone get cleaned up and ready for dinner, we’ll debrief and go over exactly how Stiles managed to defeat us... again,” he added with a growl.
Stiles held up a fist. “Winner.”
He proceeded to do his stupid yet somehow endearing victory dance which made Jackson want to either kill him all over again or hug him.
He wasn’t sure which would make him feel worse.
Chapter 3: Part 2 Chapter 7
The lightning flashed followed quickly by the crackling boom.
Danny barely blinked, he was unafraid of the storm - it was the noise inside the house that had him gripping the sheets in fear and whimpering every time a floorboard creaked. The voices outside his room grew louder and their tempo increased, along with his fear, since that meant they would come for him soon.
If only there was just one person who would listen. A teacher or a friend's parent - he had even tried speaking to a cop at the shopping centre but it all ended the same; his parents would speak quietly in the person's ear and it was as if Danny had said nothing.
Most six year olds felt powerless - Danny really was.
The door swung open and he pulled the sheet up, knowing it was useless but what else was there?
Those hands reached for him and Danny shrieked; rolling off the bed and racing around his father to make for the open door - if only he could get out into the hall he could take the back stairs to the yard. In his six year old head he was quick and so much faster than an adult.
In reality he was not and his arm was yanked sharply, before being picked up and tossed against the wall. His head smacked into a picture, the glass shattering before he slid to the floor - right across the shards. There was pain in his leg but Danny ignored it with the bigger threat looming. His father grabbed him by his hair and dragged him from the room; Danny screamed and scraped desperately on the floor, anything to delay what was to come. His nails split and bled, his chin hit the floor and he wailed uncontrollably.
There was no hope though - his father didn't so much as speak or look back at him.
"Help me!" Danny screamed, his voice cracking and his childish sobs breaking up the words.
"Danny!" Stiles yelled, trying to wake his boyfriend as he thrashed about. His torso was slick with sweat, even though the night was quite chill, and Stiles could tell by the sheets that the rest of Danny was just as bad. "Danny please, wake up," he tried speaking softly into his ear, hoping to get through to him from whatever nightmare he was trapped within. He held Danny from behind and placed a hand over his heart, it was beating so fast along with his breath in short quick gasps. Stiles knew panic attacks and it was as if Danny was having one while asleep - which he didn't know was even possible.
"C'mon man, you're safe - I've got you, please come back to me." It may have been the words or the physical contact but Danny's breathing evened out and his body relaxed in Stiles' arms. "Thank god," Stiles whispered and breathed deep himself, his panic fading to concern about what just happened. Danny was just about the most calm and measured person he'd ever met - what could give him such terrible nightmares?
"I'm sorry," muttered Danny, his eyes squinted up at Stiles and his hand wrapped around the one on his chest. "I scared you."
"I- not scared but a little worried," Stiles rested his chin on Danny's shoulder, he liked to feel Danny's hair tickle his ears - weird but then Stiles already knew he was far from normal. "Are you... okay?"
Danny sighed before answering. "Yeah." Stiles didn't need werewolf skills to know he was lying but he didn't call him on it. "No," Danny corrected himself and Stiles felt his heart warm at the fact Danny couldn't let himself be untruthful with his boyfriend. "It doesn't happen very often, not for a long time but I guess the whole wolf thing brought a few things back."
"Back?" Stiles natural curiosity almost took over but he resisted and kissed Danny's neck. "Don't worry about it - we've all got things to forget about."
Danny's other arm reached around and lazily stroked Stiles' thigh. "You're a very good boyfriend - have I mentioned that lately?"
"In so many ways," chuckled Stiles, letting their hands slip down to rest on Danny's navel, tantalisingly close to the rising bulge under the sheets. "Did you enjoy wearing my clothes tonight?"
With a smile Danny nuzzled Stiles’ neck. “A little tight but kind of a turn on – I’m surprised Jackson didn’t smell my boner instead of just you on me.”
“He was distracted by the crickets, told you that would work.”
“If only he knew how long it took to catch them all... besides I think something else was distracting him,” suggested Danny.
Stiles laughed softly. “Or someone you mean – if those two don’t get it on soon I’m gonna hand-cuff them to each other next full moon and let nature take its course.”
“Speaking of nature,” Danny said, letting his hand go higher until Stiles let out a loud groan. “I think I’m awake enough to get some more of you... on me.”
Stiles shook his head but didn’t complain when Danny smothered him in kisses and at the same time wrenched his underwear off.
If there was one thing Stiles understood it was multitasking.
Derek tried to keep his face stony and not reveal that his every fibre was vibrating with the need to get out and to just escape.
He was after all quite literally in the lion’s den and Alpha or not that was never a good place to be.
“Another beer,” his host offered and Derek hesitated, not sure how many they had consumed and he didn’t know if it was becoming a competition.
“Relax, not as if you’ll get drunk with that metabolism of yours,” Chris Argent put the beer in his hand, not apparently accepting his non-answer as a no.
“Thanks,” he said gruffly, but gave a smile – best not to be too surly in front of the man with an arsenal in his garage. “But it is possible, just so you know... just takes something a lot stronger – and no that’s not a hint for you to break out the single malt.”
Chris grinned as his gaze swung back from the liquor cabinet. “Good, if the council found out I’d
given you the good stuff they’d label me insane as well as incompetent.”
“Aren’t they going to kick you out just for having me over?” ventured Derek, wondering how much Chris would reveal about the mysterious council of hunters.
Chris clinked their beers together, he was obviously getting a little drunk. “You’d be surprised what kind of liaising has gone on throughout the years Derek, strange bedfellows and all that.”
Derek burped in surprise and raised an eyebrow at his host. “You’re not... hitting on me are you?”
That made Chris laugh, which was strange from the usually staunch and very serious man. “Calm down – I’m a happily married man.”
That raised two eyebrows which Chris noticed. “Don’t say a word Hale, a man is allowed to lie when it comes to marriage.”
Derek snickered and downed the beer, another appearing after he discarded the empty one. “Speaking of which, is the lucky lady out for the evening?”
“Some charity event at the animal shelter,” Chris snorted and opened another beer for himself. “No need to highlight the irony.”
“Is that what this is?” Derek pointed at himself and Chris. “Charity... or something else?”
Letting out a belch Chris waved his beer around. “Let’s just call it a first step.”
“To what though,” pushed Derek. “Getting to know your enemy, checking up on me as an Alpha – warning me to leave Alison alone?”
“How about getting to know Derek the man, not the wolf or the Alpha... hopefully not my enemy.”
Chris was giving him a hard look and Derek guessed at what he was really asking. “I don’t blame you for what she did if that’s what you’re wondering.”
The other man nodded slowly. “And I don’t believe you wanted her dead, no matter what she did to your family.”
Derek closed his eyes and worked through the stab of pain at the mention of their deaths. He had a new family now and one he had to look out for.
“So a first step towards a better understanding?” he suggested and clinked their bottles again.
“Sounds good – but don’t tell the wife,” Chris chuckled. “She won’t talk to Alison at the moment and I don’t want to be added to that list.”
“I know the feeling,” said Derek, not quite believing he was opening up to a hunter of all people. “Try being in charge of two teenage betas, two love-struck Romeos, a hunter’s wayward daughter,” he laughed at Chris’ frown. “And a teen genius who delights in meddling... I think she’s my favourite but never tell her that.”
Chris laughed and leaned in, giving Derek an inquisitive stare. “The boys I understand, but you know you have more humans than werewolves in your care... why take that risk given how things could go wrong?”
“Firstly I don’t think I could keep them away if I wanted to – you have met your daughter right?” That earned another bottle clink. “Also they just seem to work – even though every rule says they shouldn’t – as a group, a family.” He sighed and decided he’d gone this far, may as well spill some more. “I’d like to think if I was gone they’d keep each other safe.”
“Wow,” Chris sighed loudly. “You really do care about them.”
“Which is why I need to know,” Derek decided to risk it. “Are we in danger, will the council send other hunters after us?”
Chris frowned, maybe deciding if he could lie and get away with it.
“I don’t think so – I’m out of favour but they know I play by the rules, if I say you’re clean the majority of them believe it.”
“I think there’s a but in there.”
“But,” said Chris, forcing a smirk. “Just as you have rogues so do we, my sister,” he winced but smiled to show he meant it when he said Derek was not at fault. “She always pushed the limits but I never thought she’d go that far, but even then there are worse ones out there.” He frowned and Derek knew that expression – bad memories. “She felt killing any of you justified because you’re not human – but she would still hesitate if she thought an innocent might get hurt. Others Derek, there are some that will take down anyone in their way... human, werewolf – adult or child.”
“And the council turns a blind eye?”
Chris shrugged. “Not as if we operate within the law anyhow – difficult to manage people when the only real punishment is permanent.”
Derek blinked at that. “You kill your own kind?”
Chris bit his lip but nodded. “When necessary, but you need to understand it is bigger than just hunters and werewolves.”
Derek said nothing, worried if he spoke it would stop what ever roll Chris was on and he had never thought to get even this much information. Chris popped another couple of beers and Derek took this one without hesitation, besides he was getting a pleasant buzz even if he was nowhere near getting drunk.
Taking a long draught Chris finally turned to him. “I could probably be killed for telling you this but the council was originally formed not to fight werewolves but other supernatural creatures.”
Derek smirked. “You’re not going to tell me there’s vampires are you?”
“No,” Chris laughed and shook his head. “Thank goodness they’re just fiction but surely you know of others that aren’t?”
“Nope, kind of thought my kind were unique.”
“Wow, so you’re as ignorant of others as humans are of you?”
Derek thought about but could not remember his family ever mentioning anything but other wolf packs, and the hunters of course. “Not as if there is a club we all meet at you know.”
“No, I guess not,” Chris gave him a hard stare. “The records aren’t exactly clear but the council and the tradition of being hunters originated through the witch hunts in the middle ages, it went beyond that though,” Chris continued through gulps of beer. “Witches meant there were also warlocks, the occult, other worldly creatures like fairies and the records have even mentioned demons and hellspawn.”
Derek spluttered and could not help but laugh. “Sorry Chris, but hellspawn? The church is a crock of shit and used such things to marginalise pagan populations, and to justify wiping them out when necessary. There is no such thing as heaven or hell.”
“I agree,” said Chris simply. “But maybe there are things that exist that seem like demons; glad I’ve never had to go up against anything like that.”
“Witches,” mumbled Derek, thinking of what had happened to Jackson when he tried to attack Stiles. The bond he spoke of was real and was the cause of Jackson’s reactions after his failed attack on Stiles. The remorse, the loss of strength and the sickness; Derek had experienced the same thing when he had tried to attack his sister when they were children. What actually prevented the attack was not that bond though – nothing Derek knew of in wolf physiology would make Jackson collapse in such pain.
Except some other supernatural cause?
“Yeah,” said Chris slowly. “Why, you sound like someone who’s seen something?”
“Let me guess,” asked Derek. “Witches are killed on sight, no questions asked.”
“I... don’t know, never had to find out.”
Derek glared at him. “That was a half-lie.”
“Fuck!” Chris swore. “I can see why we avoid talking to you guys, okay,” he took a deep breath. “I think its like wolf packs, some are capable of behaving and can be left alone... watched but left alone – but others.”
“In that case I know nothing, was just a question.”
“If my daughter is in more danger Derek I deserve to know.”
“Actually,” Derek smirked. “I think this could be in our favour, how about a deal?”
“Depends what’s on offer?”
Derek kept his expression even but sensed a small amount of desire in the other man. Married indeed? Not a path he was willing to take, apart from it only ending in cataclysmic failure (images of Mrs Argent ripping his heart out came to mind) he had enough complications in his life.
“You get me some info on those witches, what powers they are capable of, strengths and weaknesses.”
“And what do I get?”
Derek licked his lips and wondered if this was a good idea. “Access to my pack, not just a beer with me but I will let you in – give you a seat at the table as it were.”
Chris frowned. “What makes you think that’s worth anything to me.”
“Think about it, you said it yourself – this is just a first step,” Derek tried but failed to keep the hope out of his voice. “You get to see what it means to be in a pack, you’ll see we aren’t animals, not controlled by our wolves – all the questions you’ve wanted to know but never been able to find out,” he risked putting a hand on the other’s knee. “You might know every way to kill us Chris, but I’m giving you a chance to understand us.”
Chris bit his lip again and glanced at the hand, pretending not to care where it sat. “Just because you let me in won’t stop the war, there’ll always be other hunters wanting to take you down.”
“Gotta start somewhere,” said Derek. “And I’ve got a feeling you might be someone important on that council one day – be good to have an ally.”
Chris’ eyes lit up, maybe it was an ambition to sit on the council and Derek had hit on a soft point. “An alliance between hunters and packs... we could police our own people, stop the unnecessary killing.”
Derek knew what went unsaid, that some killing would always be necessary.
“Do we have a deal?”
Chris looked at the hand Derek now held out and shook it.
Chapter 4: Part 2 Chapter 8
Only the Scars You Feel
"Um, so - I know this may seem weird but can I ask some advice?"
Scott stopped scanning the woods for a moment to blink in surprise at the boy next to him. "The great and almighty Jackson wanting my help... have you had your shots lately?"
"Think you mean just mighty - I'm not a deity."
"Then why did I hear nothing but 'oh god!' coming from Derek's room last night?"
Anyone else would have tried to deny it or at least look embarrassed but Scott noticed that Jackson just gave that damned superior smile. "That's a different kind of worship."
Scott rolled his eyes and wondered what the hell Derek saw in him. At first he thought the fact of Derek and Jackson's inseperatability (Stiles' word, not his) was due to Jackson's werewolf newbie status. It had taken Scott commenting on why Derek didn't spend more time with him for Danny to take him aside and give him the talk... the talk being 'they're fucking idiot'. He had said it nicely as only Danny could so no offense was taken. Still, he had felt pretty stupid for not noticing the touching, the looks, the groping (Scott's never been the most observant of people; werewolf eyes really didn't help) and as Stiles so bluntly put it 'dude, Derek's the most emotionally stunted monster on the planet and Jackson is more needy than a nation of cheerleaders - their joining was inevitable'. He had made some pretty filthy gestures when he said 'joining' which was kind of what he was picturing Derek and Jackson doing right now - which is why Jackson thumped his shoulder.
"Keep it in your pants McCall," said Jackson, sniffing and pointedly not looking at Scott's growing arousal.
"Shut up," pouted Scott, adjusting himself. "I'm a teenager, a mild breeze turns me on, then there's the hormones and the whole wolf thing enhancing everything."
"Exactly," Jackson muttered, scanning the nearest pocket of trees carefully. "That's the advice I need because its something I cannot ask Derek."
"Oh no," Scott shook his head. "You're not going to ask what I think you're-."
"Is the sex better because I'm a wolf?"
The slap of Scott's hand against his forehead resounded through the night air. The plus side of Jackson being a werewolf was he had lost much of his anti-social nature but that had been replaced by his inability to respect most any boundaries. His awkward questions combined with his need to be touchy all the time meant he was almost unrecogniseable compared to the jerk he had been at the start of the year. The old Jackson would have thrown Scott off when he comforted him the other night after his attack on Stiles; instead Jackson had seemed to not only accept it but need it. Maybe it was a wolf thing that made them almost becoming a puppy pile seem normal.
"Why you asking me?" Scott said as softly as he could, since it was quite possible Derek was listening to them.
Jackson's hand clamped on his shoulder, absently massaging where he had just before hit Scott. "Thought that's obvious."
Not bothering to shrug him off, since he had learned the futility of that, Scott raised an eyebrow. "Its really not."
"Because you've been fucking a human."
"I prefer the term 'making love' and how does that make me able to answer you."
Jackson was snorting, no doubt about the 'making love' remark - so certain parts of Jackson's personality had survived the transformation it seemed. "Okay McCall - when Derek and I fu-... make luuurve," he snorted again. "Its way hotter and so much more intense than anything I've done before."
"Um, maybe because he's," Scott thought about how to put it while not sounding like a douche. "Well, he is a he."
Jackson's eyes squinted as he appeared to consider this, then he shook his head. "Nope."
Thankfully he didn't elaborate because Scott really did not want a run down of Jackson's sexual history. He was smart enough to take Jackson's 'nope' to mean he'd been with guys before and he was already half hard thinking about Derek and Jackson let alone throwing other hot guys into the mix.
"Well, he's older?"
Damn! Now Scott was picturing Jackson with older guys.
"Nope." The answer was quick and also met with a half laugh - which meant Derek was probably the newbie in the relationship. Great burn material but if Scott ever used it Derek would rip his throat out.
"Really hot... I mean I guess, according to Stiles, and Lydia, and Danny - and Alison."
Jackson rolled his eyes at him but did seem to consider that one carefully. "He is the hottest guy I've ever been with but no, that can't explain blowing my load three times in quick succession almost everytime he fucks me aaaand last night I am almost certain my heart stopped for like, five seconds when he hit my prostate just as I was coming."
Scott whimpered just a little bit and tried not to look at Jackson as he adjusted what was now a very obvious raging boner in his jeans; thankful he had worn boxer-briefs that would keep his junk somewhat contained.
"Again why are you asking me about this?" Scott said just a little higher than was reasonable for a teenager whose voice had broken years ago.
"Keep up McCall," Jackson huffed almost like his old self. "Its not a guy/girl or guy/guy thing - I've done both."
"So you've mentioned," Scott tried to say with the right amount of snark.
"Don't worry, I'm evolved enough to realise I'm almost guy exclusive now - so even if Derek wouldn't castrate me for it I won't be going after Alison."
Scott snorted this time. "Like I'm worried that would happen?"
Jackson's arm draped over his shoulder and his hand closed over Scott's heart. "Werewolf senses Scott - not that I need them to know that as a lie."
Jackson laughed, but not cruelly and left his arm and hand where they were.
"But what it may be," Jackson continued with his original explanation. "Is a werewolf thing - I mean either I am able to enjoy sex more as a wolf or Derek gives it better because he's a wolf... or both I guess."
Scott nodded dumbly, unable to speak as those images flashed through his brain yet again.
"So, since you've fuck-... made love to a human - you can tell me if you're enjoying it more since being a wolf or if Alison is, well if she ever screamed your name several times in quick succession if you know what I mean."
"I don't... I think that," Scott's mouth was dry and he was almost certain his brain was beginning to shut down. How was it possible they were having this conversation? This was something Stiles would ask him; with a lot less touching and not smelling so good.
"Its alright, take your time." The fact Jackson was tracing patterns across Scott's chest was not helping him think any clearer, and definitely not really able to concentrate on what kind of reactions he and Alison had had while fucking... that is 'making love'.
"I don't have a," Scott mumbled the next and Jackson turned as if he couldn't hear him, lips brushing his ear.
"IwasavirginbeforeAlison," Scott blurted out, knowing his cheeks were flushing a bright red. "So I don't have a comparison," he stated a little slower.
"Huh," Jackson said with absolutely no surprise and Scott suddenly felt some foreboding as if a trap had just been triggered.
"I mean our sex life was... is awesome - really... really very good," Scott spoke, hoping there was no waver in his voice.
"The best," Jackson said in a voice deeper than before and moved behind to speak in Scott's other ear, both arms now over his shoulders. "You've ever had." It wasn't a question but the next was. "But maybe not the best you could ever have?" Those strong hands, so unlike Alison's, dropped to Scott's hips and pulled him back so he was flush against Jackson - Jackson's arousal now evident against Scott's backside. "We could find out if Derek really is that good or if," his hand slid further and slipped under Scott's waistband; an elongated nail, showing Jackson was half-way to changing, just slightly scraping up against Scott's underwear clad scrotum. Scott's wanton gasp was apparently the last bit of encouragement Jackson needed as he spun him around so Scott could look in to matching amber eyes.
"Maybe its a wolf thing," Jackson finished, his voice almost a growl before he latched onto Scott's lips.
Tongues clashed, teeth grazed and lips were nipped.
Opening his eyes for a moment Scott took note that Jackson hadn't turned any further; except for his eyes and nails his body remained human.
Scott hoped he could match his control.
"Don't worry Scott," Jackson spoke against his lips, as if reading his mind. "Just let go - you won't hurt me."
Feeling his body change Scott growled at the sky and with his own clawed hands grabbed Jackson, lifting him and charging them into the nearest tree. Jackson howled in excited pain and latched onto Scott's neck, nuzzling and sucking enough to draw blood from a normal human. His legs, still lifted off the ground, wrapped around Scott's waist and forced their groins together, continuing the rutting they had started and making it obvious that Jackson had lost none of his arousal by being slammed into an oak.
Scott used the same claws to tear up the back of Jackson's shirt, ripping it apart then pulling the pieces with preternatural speed to reveal the pristine flesh beneath. He forced Jackson away from his neck with one hand while keeping him against the tree with the other; then he feasted. As Jackson had done to him he attacked his neck, then trailed along his shoulder before moving down to tongue and bite his nipple. The excited gasps from the other boy let him know to continue so he moved lower, licking a trail down the middle of Jackson's chest until his chin rested against the probably ridiculously expensive belt buckle.
Knowing he was fully wolfed out Scott's brain functioned just well enough to think that maybe Jackson might baulk at extended canines near his cock so he breathed and used the techniques Derek had taught him to pull the wolf back while not losing his level of excitement. Honestly, he had thought Derek had taught him so he could play lacrosse, get in a (normal) fight or any number of regular daily activities that could set of the beast. Going down on his former tormentor and current pack mate? Maybe not something Scott had considered but knowing Derek... anything was possible.
Not that it mattered since Jackson pulled him up to kiss again and at the same time deftly freed both their erections and started rubbing them together furiously. Scott would love to say he had time to admire the sight or join in but it was over in seconds as he sprayed over Jackson's hand. The tremors went right through him and he screamed soundlessly at the intensity of it. He felt Jackson bucking and then his stomach was shot by Jackson's release and by the look on his face the other boy was enjoying it as much as Scott had.
They stayed in each others arms; breathing moving back to normal and Scott was surprised to find Jackson kissing him again lanquidly.
"I thought this was just an experiment," he managed to say, still gripping Jackson's hip.
Shaking his head with an admittedly beautiful grin Jackson patted Scott's chest. "Are you really that slow Scott, or are you giving me an out?"
"I-." Scott considered what had just happened and took only a microsecond to admit to himself that he'd like it to happen again... and more. The stumbling block was not about gender but the fact it was Jackson - Jackson who used to hate him, used to torment him and was now with Derek.
Speaking of which.
"What, Scott?" Jackson looked at him, his eyes guarded as if he was scared of a negative response. "Little late for the gay freak-out don't you think."
"No - Derek."
"Yeah, our Alpha... your boyfriend."
Jackson laughed and pushed Scott, not with anger but almost gently - he then leaned in and kissed Scott again, this time not with ferocity but what Scott could only call tenderness. Then he smiled, not the arrogant one or the smart one but the actual happy one - which had appeared quite often lately.
"Its not like that - we fuck but there's no," he looked a little lost for words - first time for everything. "Ownership."
At Scott's critical eyebrow raise Jackson laughed and caressed his cheek. "Danny's right, you're cute when judgemental - look." He sighed and leaned against the tree, keeping his hands locked behind Scott's neck to keep them close. "I like Derek, care for him even but we both know its just physical, or at least that a future is just not realistic."
"Because you like to get off with other guys?"
Jackson frowned in hurt but didn't let go of Scott. They were both breathing normally but sweat covered them and Scott found he could get quite distracted watching the moisture across Jackson's neck and chest. Scott suddenly felt a need to know this person. They may be friends at school, pack mates and obviously good at getting each other off but Scott still didn't know much about Jackson.
"No," said Jackson softly and brought their foreheads together. "You're the only one since he turned me."
That made Scott consider what this really meant, not just for him but for Jackson. He had been willing to believe it was just a game but Jackson's actions said otherwise. Scott stepped away to fix himself up and Jackson did the same, no words were spoken as they moved back to where they had meant to be standing, although Scott suspected Derek's orders to stand sentry tonight may have been to give Jackson his chance with Scott.
Never-the-less they continued watching the forest in silence, at least until Scott looked over and saw Jackson with his eyes closed and a lost expression. Reaching across Scott brushed his fingertips and gave him a smile when Jackson looked at him. "Sorry about the shirt."
That made Jackson smirk and he shrugged as if it was nothing - which Scott knew for a lie since Jackson adored his clothes, that hadn't changed since becoming a wolf.
He kept their hands together so he could gently trace Jackson's palm. "This is new," Scott explained, not wanting to give the wrong impression but unable to resist touching him. "Like good new but still..."
"I get it," said Jackson tightly and pulled his hand away.
"C'mon Jacks," Scott tried the name again, he'd used it a few times after hearing Danny say it and kind of liked it. "I've never really thought the two of us could, you know - and then there's Derek and I don't care what you say... I still expect him to disembowel me when he smells me on you."
Jackson made a pfft sound. "He knows how much I like you."
"Oh!" It was still kind of amazing that this new Jackson was so open compared to the old one. Stiles had commented on it, Danny often joked about it and even Lydia had mentioned it in her own unique style. "Well there's still Alison."
An eyebrow was raised at that and Jackon's lips thinned but whatever anger he was feeling was held back before he spun around and stalked off.
"What the fuck?" muttered Scott as Jackson disappeared into the woods.
"You're a jackass!" The comment was hissed and made Scott jump slightly as he turned to his Alpha, who had of course appeared from nowhere.
"Derek! Wait - have you been watching us this whole time?"
Derek ignored his question and clipped his ear. "Someone tells you he likes you and you bring up your ex-girlfriend."
"I - you - he," Scott flapped his arms in a very Stiles like manner. "How did you know about that?"
Derek's eyes bulged. "You really think no-one knew you broke up weeks ago?"
"We're on a temporary break," Scott knew how lame it sounded the instant it was out and his shoulders sagged. "So Jackson knew that?"
A glaring nod was his answer.
"So how do I fix this?"
"Do I look like a fucking relationship counsellor?"
That so did not need an answer as Scott watched Derek glower in the direction Jackson had gone.
"So do I go after him?" asked Scott.
"No - I will see that he doesn't do anything stupid, you," Derek thumped Scott's chest with a finger. "Go sort your shit out."
"This isn't my fault," Scott knew he was whining but this was a little unfair. "Suddenly Jackson likes me and I'm meant to just know what to do."
"Suddenly!" Derek's nostrils flared and his eyes flashed red for just a moment. "He's been all over you since Alison dumped you - and she did that because she was sick of watching you eye-fuck Jackson."
"So you say - like being Alpha makes you understand people."
"Get a clue Scott," huffed Derek and handed over his phone.
Putting the cell to his ear Scott heard a ring-tone before Stiles voice answered. "Yes oh mighty lord of shagpile - how may I, a pitiful yet extremely sexy human, help his master today?"
"Scott? What you calling me on Derek's phone for... Danny and I were about to - you know."
"I don't know, Derek gave me the phone."
Scott shrugged and somehow Stiles understood.
"Are you fighting?"
"Scoooootttt - I may not be a wolf but I know when you lies brother."
Derek continued to glare at him but said nothing so Scott huffed loudly and turned away from the Alpha, as if it would stop him listening. "Its kind of complicated - he had me and Jacks out here in the woods, stuff happened and now I'm sort of in trouble... but its totally not my fault!"
"Yeah, you know... stuff."
On the other end of the line Scott heard Stiles say something to Danny, too muffled to understanding but Danny's answering 'Whoop!' spoke volumes.
"So Mr McCall," said Stiles in imitation of his father. "You boys were out in the woods... alone - and stuff... happened?"
"Yes," Scott squeezed out and shut his eyes in embarrassment - how did his sex life become everyone else's business? More importantly he would have to endure a lecture from Stiles about being a slutty dog or some similar witty wolf metaphor.
"Well I've got one thing to say," Stiles said and Scott thought, here it comes.
"ABOUT FUCKING TIME!"
There was no answer because Stiles had ended the call. Scott handed the phone back to Derek and shook his head.
"Fine, I'm an ass."
Chapter 5: Part 2 Chapter 9
Part 2 Chapter 9
The whole group sat in shock as Derek and Chris sat at the end of the table and chatted like old friends.
“When did this happen?” Scott whispered at Alison.
She shrugged and looked as put out as the rest of them.
Danny thought it was strange but decided to say nothing. He still felt like the new guy sometimes and was unsure how the others really felt about Chris Argent.
It was their regular dinner, held every week at Derek’s request but tonight Alison had turned up with her dad driving and Derek had greeted the older man like there was nothing out of the ordinary.
He was distracted from the end of the table however when Alison coughed slightly and pointed at Scott and Jackson.
“So when did this happen?”
Scott’s eyes bulged and Jackson just smiled.
“Oh come on,” Lydia said from across the table. “At school you arrive together, leave together – sit together and don’t get me started on how many times you’ve disappeared into the janitor’s closet together.”
“Um, well that’s... you see,” Scott mumbled and seemed unable to make eye contact with anyone.
“Two weeks ago,” Jackson spoke up, his grin getting bigger as he put an arm over Scott’s shoulder. “Once he made it up to me that is.”
“Made up for what,” asked Alison, eyeballing her ex-boyfriend.
“For being an ass,” Scott said softly, but his lips quivered into a small smile. “Apparently I had been quite a big one.”
“Aww,” said Lydia sarcastically. “So sweet.”
Danny watched as Scott gulped down his drink and eyed Lydia warily. “You’re not like, plotting to have me neutered are you Lydia?” Scott asked meekly.
The entire table laughed, including Derek and even Chris gave a chuckle.
Lydia’s musical laughter was most noticeable but Danny recognised that glint in her eye and he thought, uh oh – here it comes.
“But,” said Lydia in her still sweet voice. “There will be serious repercussions if you screw this one up too Scott – Alison was strike one and you really don’t want to get to strike three.”
Scott looked like he was going to wet himself but he managed to squeak out a question. “What was strike two?”
Lydia put a finger to her lips and smiled, before glancing down at Derek. “Breaking our dear Alpha’s heart.”
Derek sprayed out the beer he was drinking. “That’s not... its not what you think,” he said looking at Chris who held up his hands in a ‘not my business’ gesture.
“You haven’t been boning Jackson?” Lydia said pointedly.
Derek tried to appear angry but failed and just laughed. “Repeatedly but that was just sex, really good sex – Scott’s a lucky guy.”
“Yeah but he has his talents too,” Alison, Lydia and Jackson said together which made everyone crack up again and Scott turn a bright red.
Danny turned to Stiles and raised his eyebrows. “Anyone Scott hasn’t been with please raise their hand.”
Derek and Chris immediately shot their arms up, followed by Danny since he had asked the question. Stiles squirmed on his chair and moved his arm up and then down again, shrugging at Scott and saying, “Sorry dude, table full of werewolves, lying ain’t an option.”
That elicited several gasps and a ‘knew it’ from Lydia.
“We were only fourteen,” said Scott. “And it was just a little-.”
“Don’t be modest Scotty,” smirked Stiles. “Little it is not.”
“Uh huh,” once more Lydia, Alison and Jackson agreed in unison, making everyone laugh again and Scott bury his head in his hands.
Danny tried not to feel any jealousy, he knew whatever it was never went anywhere and Stiles and Scott were always friends first before anything else. It was still just a little unnerving to think Scott had been with the two people Danny loved most.
“So Scott,” Derek spoke up from the end of the table, his voice sounding very serious and everyone went silent. “If I understand right, if you count your impromptu dancing with Danny, no-one under eighteen is safe from your wiles.” He said it so straight that no-one knew what to say until Derek turned to Chris. “Just so you know – being a slutty ho is not a wolf trait, he got that all on his own.”
That made everyone laugh again and even Scott raised his head and nodded with a grin, his face going all relaxed and happy when Jackson pulled him in to kiss him on the side of his mouth.
Danny nodded at Jackson, who smiled in return and Danny felt a hand snake its way to his thigh. Stiles had noticed the interaction and was letting Danny know he was not missing out. “He doesn’t compare to you Danny,” Stiles breathed into his ear.
“Best boyfriend ever,” Danny whispered to Stiles, getting a huge grin in return. He knew the wolves at the table would hear it but couldn’t care. The world deserved to know the awesomeness that was Stiles.
“You know you’re humming ‘Born this Way’ right?”
Stiles grinned at his boyfriend but kept his eyes on the road. He’d had to see his Dad go out enough times to late night fatalities to not keep his attention on driving.
“Your fault,” he answered. “Catching you dancing to that in the locker room may just be one of the few good memories to come out of my failed school sports career.”
“The other good memory being what we did after you caught me,” Danny breathed into his ear and Stiles gripped the wheel tightly, forcing himself to focus on the road as they took a right turn and exited the forested area where Derek’s house was situated.
He whimpered a yes as the image of that afternoon flashed through his mind. Danny had already been half out of his uniform and Stiles had only taken seconds to catch up before they had ended up on the floor and completely unclothed together. Only luck or possibly Scott’s excellent hearing kept anyone from entering the locker room until they were done and cleaned up.
“Take me home and we can do it again,” Danny whispered and nipped his earlobe, causing Stiles to finally turn his way just for a moment.
His intended response of ‘oh god yes’ stuck in his throat as headlights from the side blinded him, an instant later everything was shattering glass, the ripping and tearing of metal and then the world became a twisting turning mess as the jeep flipped from the impact. Stuck upside down the vehicle slid along the road, the sound of screeching metal and sparks was a sensory overload as Stiles felt his heart almost literally jump into his throat.
There was the fear that this was it – and that the impact was on Danny’s side but mostly because for all his problems Stiles had never been slow on the uptake and he knew one thing.
This was no accident.
Danny groaned and reached blindly across, feeling the warm body next to him and in the smoky haze he felt for signs of life and sighed in thanks when he could feel Stiles’ breath against his hand.
No response, so he found the other’s hand and squeezed it... but there was no answering squeeze so he figured Stiles was unconscious.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get you out and everything will be okay,” he said more himself than Stiles. They were upside down and the seatbelt held him in place, knowing it would hurt he unbuckled and gravity took over. He managed to crawl out his side and did a quick check, all arms and legs worked and although his vision was a bit blurred there seemed to be no major bleeding.
So far so good.
Danny went to move around the overturned jeep and ran into something solid, or more specifically something hit him. Landing on his backside his curse was halted as a large man wielding a bat stood over him. It must have been the meaty fist that had connected with his jaw and not the bat, because his teeth would be sticking out the back of his throat if the guy had used that.
“Well well, what do we have here?”
The voice was deep and had an accent Danny couldn’t place, it was also dripping in malice so he knew his chances of getting out of this were slim. It made him surprisingly calm to know his life was dangling by a thread – he’d always hoped to be cool in such a situation but to suddenly be here and not wetting his pants made him just a little proud. Of course he had Stiles to worry about so had to find a way to delay this and hope Derek had heard the crash – they were only two miles out and if werewolf hearing was as good as they said he should be along quickly.
“You’re making a mistake,” he croaked out, the pain from the blow only just registering and the smoke on the air making it hard to take a deep breath or see beyond the flickering red lights of the jeep’s rear. “I’m human.”
“We know,” a new voice spoke, a woman who walked up and sneered down at him. “And this is no error – its strategy.”
Danny scowled and didn’t need it explained. They fake an accident to kill the pack’s humans, the wolves respond and the hunters have their excuse to execute the rest of the pack.
“They’re not stupid you know,” he muttered, hoping to give it more time for Derek to get here.
Stiles was alive but the hunters didn’t know that yet, once they did he figured they’d finish Stiles off in the driver’s seat – easier to make it look like an accident. Then they’d be able to cave Danny’s skull in and dump his body away from the jeep – like he’d been thrown out during impact. Again he was surprised at the clarity with which he was thinking and the lack of fear at the fact he was about to die. “Derek won’t openly come after you and let his pack become targets.”
She smiled, a humourless show of teeth and absolute ruthlessness.
“He doesn’t have to,” she said simply. “But we’ve been watching you closely – those two Betas are too new to hold in the beasts when we kill the people they care most about.” She knelt and gripped his jaw. “I’d say you should have stayed away from those freaks, and that now you’ll die a traitor to your own kind... but we’ve seen enough to know you two are abominations of a different kind – which made this so much easier”
Danny barely acknowledged her slur, he’d been called worse by people he thought friends; she was just a crazy sociopath so he smirked. “Us freaks gotta stick together you know,” then he head-butted her, catching her by surprise as she fell back. He jumped up, relying on his lacrosse skills to duck the man’s swing with the bat and slam his arm across the guy’s neck, a satisfying crunch sent the guy falling without so much as a whimper. Rounding to face any other attackers Danny dared hope he may get them out of this without Derek’s help.
A far-too loud crack behind him was followed by agonising pain blossoming from his kidney and Danny collapsed to his knees then to his back. Staring up, the woman came into his vision, a smoking gun held in her hands.
“There’s goes the accident angle,” she shrugged. “Now its road-rage gone wrong, just a couple of fags dead on the road, I bet they won’t even bother searching for the culprit.” She pointed the gun and Danny forced himself to smile.
That made her hesitate just a moment and he was able to speak. “You’ll die begging for mercy,” he managed, the pain from his wound almost paralysing. Somehow a strange cold power built inside him, impending death giving him strength to still talk and look her right in the eye. “They’ll never stop until they rip you limb from limb. You and yours will be slaughtered because no matter how many of us you kill,” he felt that coldness stretching out, like a third limb and knew the moment it touched her because she shuddered and blanched just slightly. Wetness spread across his back and he knew he was bleeding out, the punch from the guy had also split his lip and now he tasted blood, it sparked some distant memory but he pushed it back, knowing he had only seconds. He was unsure where the words came from but they felt oddly not his and yet so right.
“You’ll never win, our numbers are legion and we-will-always be here.”
She sneered and went to speak but seemed lost for words, instead she just levelled the gun and fired.
To be cont...
Chapter 6: Part 2 Chapter 10
Part 2 Chapter 10
A loud gunshot brought Stiles back to consciousness and he panicked at being upside down and in what seemed like hell, nothing but smoke and a dim red light letting him know where things were.
He managed to release the seat belt and rolled out the door, amazing himself that he could move after a crash like that. Looking through the upside down cabin he saw a set of legs and a prone body, which it took his addled brain a second to recognise as Danny’s.
There were voices then two more shots... directly above Danny and Stiles should have yelled but for some reason his throat locked up and his body simply refused to move. All strength left him and he felt his body slump against the jeep, even his eyes seemed to be under some other control – he couldn’t even blink or focus.
Footsteps approached and if he could move his eyes he’d be able to see more than just women’s boots. One nudged him and a hand roughly turned his face, staring into his own. Not even a breath escaped him as he watched her blurred face seem somewhat disappointed before dropping him back down, his skull cracked against the bitumen but again some force prevented him moving or making a sound.
“This one’s gone,” he heard her shout. “Get Billy and let’s get out of here, the Alpha could be on the way.”
He heard the vehicle start and leave but Stiles remained unable to move but at least he was breathing again and his heartbeat thudded in his ears. This just could not be happening, for all he knew Danny was bleeding out yet he could not even call out to him. He thought he heard a scraping sound then some muttered speech before everything went quiet except for the ticking over of the cooling engine and the sounds from the surrounding forest.
It was surreal and Stiles wanted to scream at the hopelessness he felt.
Suddenly control returned and his eyes watered at being stuck open for so long. In an instant he was leaping over the jeep and rushing to where Danny should be except the ground was clear, he wiped away the tears and shook his head – what-the-fuck?
Then he looked back at the jeep and Stiles felt himself freeze up again, this time because he could finally see Danny. He was sitting against the overturned back fender and in the soft light he looked entirely normal and peaceful, like he was about to just wave and say ‘hi’. The still working park lights from the vehicle told Stiles a different story as he followed with his eyes the shiny trail along the surface of the road – Danny had somehow dragged himself that far, even with his wounds.
Walking up slowly Stiles slumped down next to his boyfriend and held in a sob, trying desperately to think clearly and find the correct thing to do, even though his whole head and heart were in unison in their panic and ‘this cannot be real’ feeling. He brushed the hair back from Danny’s forehead and marvelled at the chiselled perfection of his profile, even in this terrible scene his features spoke of a calm serenity that made Stiles feel stupidly safe. His hand trailed down over Danny’s cheek, through what seemed to be more blood across his chin. Across the rumpled shirt Stiles avoided the gunshot wounds, almost too perfect in their small size and lack of blood. Blood he knew was there but in the light it was just black on black, his hands falsely registering it as sweat under the shirt.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into Danny’s ear. He was, if not for him Danny would be safe at home and not here – a victim of this stupid war between hunters and werewolves. For the first time Stiles hated that Scott had been bitten, that they had been dragged into this world and worse, that Stiles had gone willingly; loving every minute of it even though his life had been threatened so many times.
This was the result. Sitting by his smashed jeep; with his bloodied boyfriend at the roadside and no help within site. Maybe Derek had not heard the crash then again perhaps he had and ignored it.
Not that Derek could do much anyway.
A low humming voice made its way through and Stiles blinked at Danny, it couldn’t be – then he saw Danny’s hand, still clutched at his side and inside it a blinking handset. He had to pry it from Danny’s fingers and this time a sob did escape as he did so; he held it up to his ear, shaking the entire time.
“Hello?” His voice was a whisper, barely there but it was enough for whoever was on the other end.
“Stiles!” it was his father’s voice and a part of Stiles broke open and he knew the tears were now falling freely.
“Dad,” he gasped. “I need help.”
“I know son – Danny called dispatch and asked for me but he was making no sense, just gave me directions... what the hell is going on?”
Stiles looked at Danny. Those eyes he had stared into so many times, losing himself in them every time and knowing they would always succeed in firing his passion and his love... except this once. His lips which would always twist and turn when he was quietly amused at something Stiles had said. The wet blood on them now made it almost seem like he had lipstick on but Danny had never needed to enhance his beauty, it was just always there for people to see. When they were first together Stiles had repeatedly questioned why someone as handsome as Danny would choose to be with him; he realised he had not thought about that in a while.
For all those times they had lay in bed and just talked or kissed, memorising the other’s face and body Stiles took a few extra seconds staring now, even though his dad was almost shouting his name. His lips that would never kiss him again and eyes still so dark and beautiful but not looking at Stiles, not looking at anything.
His father just gasped and Stiles could hear the siren and the engine roaring as his dad floored it.
“I’m sorry son, so sorry,” his dad finally said huskily. “I am minutes away – you’re gonna be okay.”
“Yeah,” Stiles said flatly, knowing it was more to let his father know he was still on the line. “I’m safe now.” He flipped the phone shut and let it drop to the ground. His hand grabbed Danny’s and he leaned in to the other boy. “The hunters got what they wanted.”
Chris felt his gut clench at the sight and guiltily thought if he would have felt such empathy even a few weeks ago. He watched as Derek just seemed to collapse in on himself, no rage or anger but open and very real grief. If Chris knew Derek at all he figured the anger would follow and not just at the people who did this but at himself for not preventing it. He was not surprised he could predict that; Derek was an open book once you were in his inner circle.
He reached out and gently touched the man’s shoulder, all too aware that in this emotional state Derek could easily go full Alpha and kill everyone in the vicinity. Instead he had never seen Derek appear so small, like the young man he actually was instead of the big tough bad boy he wanted everyone to see. “Derek,” he whispered, once his touch did not send the guy off. “You should go, being here may raise too many questions.”
Ignoring him Derek reached out, not quite touching Danny’s foot from his crouched position. “I should have been here, I could’ve saved him.”
Having never heard Derek sound so raw Chris looked at the other person present but Stiles looked as bad as Derek sounded. His face was marred by tears and blood, a gash on his cheek looked jagged and painful but the boy held a very blank expression, just staring at his hand clasped in the dead boy’s one. He had lost people and had a good idea of the feelings they were going through and the inability to think let alone act in such a situation. He didn’t like to manipulate Derek but the sirens were getting closer and Derek could not be here.
“Derek,” he said loudly and felt the muscles tense in the other’s shoulder. “I’ll look after Stiles, but you have to go – you’re no good to the pack stuck in the watch house.”
He was glad he didn’t have to explain further, Derek was smart enough to know that while cleared of murder the sheriff would have no choice but to take Derek in for questioning. Chris could afford the time if he was taken in but if the hunters went after anyone else in the pack they would be defenceless without their Alpha.
Derek still didn’t move though and it was Stiles who spoke instead.
“You need to go Derek, this isn’t your fault...” Chris winced at the boy’s unspoken words ‘its mine’ and his heart went out to the young man; no-one should feel such guilt at such an early age.
“Jackson will need you – you have to be there when he finds out.”
That much was true. Chris was new to this group but had quickly noticed that while Jackson and Danny had other partners theirs was a relationship closer than romance or friendship. Danny’s murder could send Jackson over the edge, and being a new werewolf that would be catastrophic.
Derek lunged forward and clasped Stiles behind his neck, bringing their foreheads together. “We’ll get through this,” he heard Derek say. “They’ll pay for what they’ve done.”
He turned to leave and Chris went to guide him in the right direction when Stiles called Derek’s name again.
“After tonight you will give me the bite,” said the boy with what Chris could only describe as iron in his voice. “And then we hunt them together.”
Chris watched as Derek and Stiles locked their gaze and Derek nodded slightly. Having hunted rogue Alphas and murderous wolves his entire life Chris felt ice up his spine – these hunters had no idea what they had unleashed. Stiles as a wolf would bring an intelligence and an ability to strategize that mixed with Derek’s tenacity should make any enemies very worried indeed.
He was still contemplating how dangerous each side would be when flashing lights took his attention as the Sheriff’s car pulled up. The Sheriff nodded at Chris before going immediately to his son and enveloping him in his arms. Chris turned away to give them privacy and studied the scene before he was inevitably kicked out. Derek was long gone, running back to his house no doubt, before hopefully driving over to Jackson’s... unless Jackson was at Scott’s – the Alpha would be able to track them no doubt. He and Derek had driven here in Chris’ truck, they had been having a post-dinner drink when Derek had heard the crash which had not immediately worried him until the gunshots. Chris had convinced him that even with werewolf speed his truck was faster.
With the extra car lights he could see the story from the skid marks. The hunters had hidden on the shoulder, right where Stiles had to slow for the bend and that is when they struck. The jeep had rolled from the impact and from there Chris could guess how it played out. Danny must have faced the hunters and somehow forced them to shoot him instead of them faking an ‘impact’ fatality.
There the blood told the story.
A large pool was where Danny had been shot, although by the wounds it seemed one was in his back. Taken by surprise perhaps? He shook his head at the ferocity of it and the fact that people he had probably met and called allies had done this. The blood trail led back to the jeep so Danny had lived for a short time, painfully crawling his way to where Stiles must have found him.
He stared back for a moment where the Sheriff had got Stiles to stand and lean against him, rubbing his shoulders and patting his back at the same time. Chris was a father and knew how it went – no matter what you did the one thing you could never do is remove that pain... but damn it if you ever gave up trying.
He covertly checked Stiles over for any other injuries but except the face wound he seemed okay. That made Chris wonder why they had left him alive.
They wanted a witness?
It made no sense – even had it not obviously been murder the hunters knew that Derek would be able to work out it had been an attack. No need for a living witness to get the human authorities on their trail. They must have run out of time then but that still rang false – Derek had heard the shots before they were in the car. That gave the hunters more than enough time to finish off the Sheriff’s son.
Chris rubbed his jaw and surveyed the area again. Something had happened to save Stiles’ life but what had it been? As another squad car arrived and the deputies started organising the scene Chris moved aside and waited to be questioned. He already had a story about a late night business trip but wondered if it wasn’t time to bring the Sheriff in to their world. His son was about to become a werewolf so it made sense.
More importantly Chris realised that even when he had considered how dangerous Derek would be with a vengeful pack and a newly turned Stiles – he had not once thought about fighting against them.
These hunters would not stand a chance and even if they somehow survived... Chris Argent knew with certainty he would put them down personally and not regret it for one moment. He looked over at Danny, his body still slumped against the jeep, seeming so sad and alone as the deputies started taking photos.
Chris felt his eyes tearing up but let them come, the kid deserved that much.
To be continued...
Notes: please save the hate mail. Danny’s death was integral to this plot... well maybe not integral but very close to it. This story hopefully has a long way to go and upsetting as it was I could not find a way to avoid this scene and keep the plot on track. While not the main reason I did have to find a strong reason for Stiles to actually want the bite that did not include jealousy or just the need to belong. Vengeance is not pretty but it sure is a motivator – and besides he hasn’t got it yet.
Also can you imagine anything more scary than a wolfy Stiles bent on bloody revenge?
Next chapter we get to deal with Jackson’s response so allow me some time for that, I’m still feeling like a murderer here and may need a vodka or two, and few days to grieve.
As always thanks for reading and a special thanks for the reviews, kudos and the special comments. You know who you are.
Chapter 7: Part 2 Chapter 11
Part 2 Chapter 11
The neighbourhood was hushed as an upper scale one should be, with only the sound of a few sprinkler systems working, a couple of dogs strangely whining rather than barking and one house with the sports game turned up loud enough to hear the crack of a ball on bat.
This peace and quiet was very quickly broken by a window shattering as a body shot through it, flying through the air and literally bouncing along the lawn and coming to sliding rest just before a bed of spiked ferns. The dark haired man shook his head and slowly arose, shaking off the fall and if anyone had been watching closely they would have seen him snap a forearm back in place before limping back to the house.
When Derek returned to the lounge Jackson was now seated on the floor, it looked like he had just collapsed there. Jackson did not acknowledge him – Scott nodded at Derek as he held Jackson from behind, probably the only thing keeping Jackson upright. Confident that he was not going to be thrown again Derek walked closer and stood near them, not close enough to touch but enough to be a presence. He did not begrudge Jackson his earlier anger even though he was surprised at the show of strength – as an Alpha he doubted he could throw a full grown man that far and also without shifting to wolf form.
Jackson had, his eyes had shifted but that was all. It had happened as Derek had explained why he was there, he had said it quickly and although he expected anger the speed with which Jackson had attacked him was beyond anything Derek had seen – faster than his uncle had been at his worst. He had been across the room in an instant, grabbed Derek by the arm and picked him up like he was nothing before tossing him out the window. It was understandable and exactly what Derek would have tried to do in his place – try being the operative word. Maybe this was a result of Jackson’s intense emotion but he would have to watch him carefully.
Whatever the case Jackson did not look like he would be a danger again tonight and Derek felt it twofold as he watched the boy melt down. Through the bond he felt the emotional overload as Jackson tried and failed to handle what he was feeling and physically he seemed to be going through a nervous breakdown. Tears streamed down his face and his mouth was open in a silent scream, his grip on Scott’s clasped hands over his middle looked painful but Scott was ignoring it while nuzzling his neck.
“I think we need to call Lydia,” Derek suggested. Scott would do what he could but Lydia, while no longer with Jackson, knew him a lot better.
“I already did while you were... out,” Scott said softly and in any other situation he would have had smile at the jibe. “But she just asked how...” Scott hesitated and Derek could tell he was holding back tears himself. “How he died and if the sheriff had been called, then she hung up.”
Derek’s eyes narrowed at that. Lydia could be cold but not when it came to her boys and especially Jackson and Danny, Derek had noticed how she always tried to protect Jackson without anyone else seeing it and she had never spoken a word against Danny – which considering she had a snark for every other human on Earth had to mean something.
“Out of town,” Scott answered as he adjusted his grip. Jackson had slumped more and his face had relaxed somewhat, his eyes were fully human and finally focusing on Derek.
Deciding they had a long night ahead of them Derek sat on the couch that was probably worth more than his car. He could do little but simply be here as Jackson worked through his shock and grief – they all had to.
The orderly glanced up at the pretty face, lovely and pale surrounded by dark hair.
“Yes,” he managed through the sandwich he was eating, realising too late it was rude to eat and speak. She seemed to understand his embarrassment and smiled ruby red lips at him.
“That’s okay, I was wondering though, the sheriff did ask me to come down here and speak with the doctor – it was to do with the...” she stopped and leaned in, whispering as if it were a secret. “The shooting.”
“Um,” he looked her over. Smartly dressed, expensive clothes and obviously someone used to being listened to – not a deputy dressed like that and she seemed rather young but then again if she knew about the murder she must be working for someone important. “No-one’s supposed to know about that yet,” he ventured.
“Exactly,” she smiled, very bright white teeth that were really very distracting in the fluorescent lighting. “And the mayor wants it kept that way, until the sheriff can investigate properly – hence me being here to speak with Doctor...” she checked a folder and squinted at whatever was written there.
“Doc Padget is not in until morning,” he supplied, hoping she would smile again.
“Excellent,” she did indeed smile but it did not seem so friendly anymore. “So its only you and me.”
“Um,” his mouth went a little dry at her innuendo.
“And of course the body,” she gave a little laugh and glanced over his shoulder. “Is that it – I’ve never seen a dead body before.”
He looked over too at the figure under the white sheet. “Yeah that’s him, I mean the victim.”
Turning back he found her smiling again and she tilted her head. “Have you finished eating?”
“Um... yeah – why?”
He never got an answer as ten thousand volts charged through his system from the taser she fired.
The brunette stepped over the orderly’s body, checking to ensure he was breathing before moving over to the table. She removed the wig to reveal the golden red locks beneath.
“Oh Danny,” Lydia whispered and pulled the sheet back before running a finger over his ashen cheek. “You had better be worth it because stealing a body from the morgue will not go well towards my political career.”
Lydia did not linger as she knew given the orderly’s body weight, gender and age she had approximately four minutes before he regained consciousness. She had allowed three and a half to get Danny smuggled through the almost deserted corridors, avoiding the nurses stations of course and out the emergency exit she had used aluminium foil and duct tape to leave unlocked and not alarmed. From there she had twenty seconds to get herself and Danny in the borrowed ambulance and out of the hospital grounds – leaving a ten second buffer for unexpected delays.
Lydia expected no delays though, although she was on a time limit with regards to Danny she had waited for 3am in the morning so that the least amount of people would be on staff.
She felt bad about the orderly but he had been checking out her breasts and since she was a minor he should be glad a headache was all he’d wake up with.
Besides, too much emotion or empathy at a time like this was unacceptable. If she failed, Jackson would never forgive her for not being there for him... but if she succeeded?
Lydia allowed a small smile as she started up the ambulance.
Failure was never really an option.
“Is Stiles okay?” asked Scott breaking the silence that had lasted for the last few hours. “I mean I figured he must be or you would have said something.”
“Nothing serious,” Derek said, keeping his gaze on Jackson and trying to send him whatever strength he could through the bond. “Chris stayed with him until the sheriff arrived.”
“You should call him,” Jackson spoke, his voice a little hoarse as he turned to Scott. He seemed a little better and had slowly returned to them bit by bit. “Get his Dad to drop him over here,” he sighed heavily and looked at Derek again. “The sheriff will be working through after this and Stiles shouldn’t be alone.”
Scott was conflicted and Jackson sniffed and breathed deep, using the calming techniques Derek had taught him. “Call him,” Jackson prompted and eased himself up and out of Scott’s grip. “I’m alright now.”
Derek doubted that but at least the kid was trying and also thinking of what Stiles needed – old Jackson would not have done that. Scott got up and walked to the kitchen to make the call – a gesture since they were all wolves and able to listen in.
“You should stay too.”
Derek gave Jackson a hard stare.
“I mean it,” Jackson walked closer and lowered his head. “I’m sorry, it wasn’t your fault – Danny wouldn’t...” his face crumpled again and Derek did not hesitate, immediately engulfing the younger man in a tight hug. “He would want us sticking together, no fighting,” Jackson mumbled into his chest and Derek rubbed circles in his back.
“Stiles said the same thing,” Derek whispered. “But it is my fault – we knew they were coming and I let my guard down having Chris in our circle.” He knew he was crying too and took as much comfort from having Jackson in his arms as he hoped he was giving.
Jackson must have sensed this and gripped Derek tighter. “Its okay – we’ll be okay as long as we stay together.
Derek went to kiss him and only at the last moment thought of Scott, turning away and sitting, bringing Jackson down next to him. “Sorry,” Derek offered. “Old habits.”
Jackson smirked but it had no humour in it. “We were good together Derek and I’m sorry too – we never really discussed everything after me and Scott... you know.”
“He’s coming over after getting checked out at the hospital,” Scott interrupted, standing before them with that quizzical head-tilt expression he was so good at. “I called my mom too, she was at work and the sheriff had already spoken with her – she said she’s really sorry Jackson.”
Jackson nodded and made room for Scott to sit with them. They sat in silence again but this time it was comfortable, just enjoying the company and Derek remembered how as a child his family had done a similar thing when something bad happened. His mother had explained to him that it was a werewolf thing, physical contact helped even out the heightened emotion and calm the beast. It was similar to after Jackson had been turned, not the sex but the intimacy. They had been very active sexually and although it had not been serious for either of them Jackson had usually stayed the night and while they would both probably deny it cuddling had been involved. For Derek it helped adjusting as Alpha and getting over the loss of his sister and he figured Jackson needed it for his own life changes and of course his angst over finding himself attracted to Scott.
“You know,” Scott said, breaking the silence. “My mom made a point of meeting Danny at a couple of games.” He smiled at Jackson and patted his thigh. “Apparently she’d heard we made quite the handsome couple.” At Jackson’s raised eyebrow Scott almost laughed but held back, Derek figured he knew it was too soon. “Our dance was the talk of the town for a few days – mom was pissed at me thinking I had a boyfriend and hadn’t told her... and because she thought I was using Alison.”
Jackson managed a smile back which pleased Derek, perhaps he would be okay after all.
“Is that why you had no problem telling her about us?” asked Jackson.
“It... helped,” Scott blushed. “Of course she told me she liked Danny better, sorry,” he shrugged but Jackson snorted.
“Who wouldn’t?” His face scrunched up again and Scott pulled him close, also reaching out an arm to Derek to bring them all together.
Derek sighed inside, both at the comfort and the shared grief. It was a pack’s strength, this bond... but also its greatest weakness. The hunters knew this and would use it to attack again. If they could just have this night then maybe he could start putting a plan together – of course Derek knew the best person to formulate a plan was Stiles. He also knew that Stiles would only be able to seek revenge.
Derek was totally on board with that.
His awareness floated in a non-world of images and sounds... not real sounds he realised but the memory of them.
"Do what we command – do it or suffer!"
"You are our property so stop thinking anyone is going to save you."
"If you ever disobey me again I will break your fingers one by one."
Memories he had blocked for so long. Those people he had tried so hard to forget, enough that he couldn’t even picture them properly but their actions remained firmly embedded. A slap or punch every time he dared ask for anything being the easiest to endure but it only got worse.
The breaking of his fingers was not an idle threat. The strap was sharp and drew blood every time, like a whip against his back. Memory of smell also permeated this strange pseudo existence.
Burning flesh, his own. His fear and the tang of vomit, also his own but no caring mother to clean him up and tell him its okay. A smell of things much worse when he was locked up for days on end.
The stuff of nightmares which he knew were his own and also that imagination could not be more terrible that actual events. Memories of such abuse gave way to something he had not been able to face before now, not because of the horrible nature of it but because he had somehow had his memory blocked.
That block faded away and now he saw a knife, raised and plunging into his flesh, sharp searing agony and the gushing of his life flowing from the wound. The absolute terror of drowning in his own blood and knowing, even at that young age, that his life was ending.
It did. He saw with clarity how it had happened again and again.
He had died – been brutally killed over and over by stranger’s hands encouraged by his own parents. They had sacrificed him how many times? It blended together but it had to be at least a dozen.
Yet every one of those times death did not keep him.
He was something that was incapable of simply dying, a creature whispered about in tales of horror and myth – a name on the tip of his awareness but just out of reach.
Physical awareness and the pain of the real world returned in a rush of sudden breath and the sickening feeling of being in a body that until moments ago had been dead for some time.
Danny sat up, his joints and muscles popping from the accumulated gases of early decay. The light was dim but still hurt, his ability to focus impaired by the blood vessels in his eyes having a severe lack of oxygenated blood.
Through a throat dry and raw he screamed in frustration and anger at what had been done to him.
A figure shimmered before him, a person he recognised without needing a sharp image and somehow he knew it would be her.
“Lydia,” he growled, his voice like gravel over sandpaper.
“Hello Danny,” she said in that sing song voice, hiding what he knew must be an element of fear. She may be super smart and had figured out what he was but she could not really understand and fully realise what he needed and was capable of. Still, she placed a hand on his and sat next to him, pressing her warm body to his side. “I’m going to help you through this,” she said as if making a sudden decision but they both knew she’d made this choice the moment she’d stolen his body.
“But first,” she stated, her breath misting out in the cold air. “Do you know what has happened?”
Danny smiled grimly and looked into her eyes, his focus finally working. “I was murdered.”
She nodded and he noticed the slight shiver, he supposed no matter how prepared she was... having a corpse speaking and smiling had to be a little unnerving. “And yet here we are,” she spoke softly. “Danny, do you understand how you are here?”
It was his turn to nod. “A name almost forgotten and a power thought lost.”
They said it together, her sweet highly pitched voice mixing with his deep baritone.
End of Part 2.
Chapter 8: Part 3 Chapter 12
From the author – this update has been a long time coming, not because I’ve been working on it but quite the opposite. Life happens and we get busy, what can I say. Here’s hoping the break has given me time to come up with a storyline that’s not too stupid but sometimes I go on a tangent or ... see there I go rambling. Please enjoy and let’s get this story back on with a bit of juice.
Stiles sighed loudly and his hand clenched the sheet pooled in his lap tighter as cool lips trailed kisses from his ear to the back of his neck. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed with Danny behind him; Danny was shirtless of course, showing off his sculpted body while Stiles kept his thin t-shirt on. Not that it stopped Danny from running a hand up under it, tracing circles across his beck before delving beneath the waistline of his underwear. This elicited a whimper from Stiles and made him arch his back to push back on his boyfriend, the added bonus was it released his raging hard on; which sprang up and peeked out the top of his boxer-briefs.
“That’s so hot,” Danny whispered in his ear, his other hand creeping towards Stiles’ cock.
And who was Stiles to stop him? His groan became an ‘oh fuck’ when Danny’s hand closed over him, wiping the pre-come around the throbbing knob and then delving deeper to fully grasp his shaft and started pumping slowly. Stiles didn’t know what was better – his boyfriend’s hand on his dick or the sounds Danny was making behind him.
“Gonna make you cum so hard,” Danny said huskily, grinding his own cock up against the crack of Stiles arse. “Half the town’ll hear you.”
“Oh g-god,” Stiles managed to gasp out as he closed his eyes, the familiar warmth building low in his belly. He wanted to beg Danny to slow down, to make this last but he voice was now useless as his moans grew louder and his breathing quickened. Danny’s own pace picked up and Stiles gave one last shout as he thrust an entire load into Danny’s hand, which kept milking Stiles until he slumped back, boneless and speechless.
After what seemed like an hour but was probably more like five minutes Stiles stirred within Danny’s arms, his boyfriend had held him all this time, never saying a word until Stiles recovered. Moving to try and see Danny but failing Stiles made do with snuggling back against that deliciously naked and ripped chest. “What about you?” he murmured, knowing he could never match the sexiness Danny managed no matter what words came out his mouth.
“I have to go,” answered Danny, pausing to kiss the top of Stiles’ head. “But don’t worry, the sight of you laying here, with your cock out and spent with your shirt ruined... that’s gonna give me enough material for several self-help sessions.”
Stiles grabbed Danny’s hand. “Don’t go – you know you can stay all night.”
“Maybe your dad lets you out to all hours but my parents are a little stricter.”
“But surely if you tell them its the sheriff’s son they’ll-,” Stiles felt Danny slip away and turned to follow his movement, hoping to at grab a decent ogle of Danny’s grade ‘A’ rear end disappearing out the window. Instead he only got to see the blinds sway from the sudden gust of wind – how had Danny got out that quickly? Besides which the blinds were down. Confusion reigned and Stiles reached over the turn on his lamp, he over-did it and hit the neck, the lamp falling off the table to shatter on the floor. “Crap!” he swore and rolled over to check out the mess, patting the floor to find pieces he hissed and brought his fingers up, they were covered in blood and the floor had felt seriously rough, like it was covered in gravel. It was too dark to see properly so he grabbed his phone and turned it around to light up the side area with the screen.
Instead of worn carpet he was met with bitumen – in his room? He moved the phone around and saw that a pool of darkness stained the gravel – blood! Hand shaking he kept going and the soft light slowly revealed the figure slumped against the side of his bed, one arm flung out with blood dripping down it. The body seemed well and truly dead but still the head turned slowly, Danny’s face revealed as deathly grey with a bloodless open gash and clouded eyes. With cracked lips his boyfriend looked right at Stiles. “Why did you leave me?” he gasped.
“Danny!” Stiles felt like he was screaming the name and shot up in bed, opening his eyes to see his room normal. No blood and no gravel – and more importantly no dead boyfriend.
The lamp was intact and still on, Stiles had fallen asleep while reading a rare book on North-African mountain mythology – no mention of werewolves but a lot about witchdoctors and death-cults. The window blind looked as it should, down and slapping the sill with a small wind blowing. The breeze blew across the bed and Stiles shivered, reaching down he found his crotch damp and sticky and he swore he could smell the faintest scent of Armani – Danny’s favourite aftershave.
“Great one Stiles,” he said softly to himself. “Just like you to have a great wet dream which turns into a creepy nightmare.” He was about to get up and cleaned off when his phone buzzed from the side table. He knew he should leave it, nothing good ever came from late night messages – but then again almost everyone he knew seemed to spend the majority of their lives doing everything during night hours.
[Kinda strge... did somthg just hppn, jacks is freakin out]
Stiles felt his eye twitch and weighed up not answering – what could he tell them, that he’d just creamed his jocks after an intense sex dream that ended poorly? Of course if he said nothing Scott would probably come right over and his werewolf nose would know something hinky had gone down.
[Define strange? Also r u txt with 1 hand?]
The response came as Stiles was using a washer to wipe away the messy evidence. He was nothing if not a multi-tasker so while rubbing his crotch with one hand he opened up his phone with the other.
[Bad dream. Involved u but says felt too reel]
Stiles froze with a hand down his own pants and the other holding the screen open. Two things: could it even be possible Jackson could pick up on his dreams and if so – Jackson being a voyeur during his dream time sexy time with his dead boyfriend.
He quickly typed a message, since unlike Scott he was quite capable of spelling correctly with one hand, although quite likely Scott couldn’t spell if he had four hands and one of them held a dictionary.
[If I dreamed of Jacks itd b nightmare – talk tomorrow]
Turning off his phone Stiles hoped that would be the end of it and went back to bed. Before turning off the light he gazed over at his desk, where he had one of the few pictures of him and Danny together. It was at a lacrosse game where Stiles had actually managed to play, his dad had taken the photo after the game and it showed him and Danny, arms around each other with huge grins.
“Nothing ever ends well,” muttered Stiles and quickly fell asleep.
Scott remained in the alley between school buildings; watching his friend from the shadows was kind of creepy but had to see Stiles when he didn’t think he was being watched. Sensing a body next to his own Scott allowed a small smile which was answered by a hand on his lower back. Jackson was a surprisingly caring boyfriend but would never stop being a dude’s dude – hand holding was not part of his repertoire, at least not in public.
“You’re worried about him.”
It was a statement not a question but Scott nodded anyway. “He’s trying to act like he’s getting better – cracking a joke now and then, suggesting we do things that might be fun,” Scott shrugged but kept his eyes locked on Stiles. “But we’ve been here before,” he hesitated but figured there was nothing wrong with sharing this stuff with Jackson. “When his mom died he just... stopped being Stiles. I mean I’ve known him my entire life and he’s pretty much been unchanged but it took six months, therapy and medication to get him functioning like a human being again.” He heard a soft snort form Jackson, not cruel like the old Jackson would have but borderline; in any case he knew Jackson was suffering too and maybe humour helped him keep it together. “Yeah yeah – I get it, when was Stiles ever ‘normal’ but you know what I mean.”
Jackson’s hand cupped Scott’s hip, bringing them together and putting his chin on Scott’s shoulder. Scott was happy to never hold hands if he got this kind of intimacy instead. He was still not sure if Jackson did these things on purpose or by instinct – he just had this way of making you feel like you were the centre of his universe.
It was a great feeling.
None of them were over Danny’s death, most especially Jackson and Stiles but Scott knew how Stiles dealt with loss. Jackson was another story but except for his initial break down and the sad distant look he sometimes wore he had come along in the short two weeks since Danny’s murder.
“What’s he doing anyway, looks like he’s meditating.”
Stiles was sitting under the tree just inside the school grounds, his legs were splayed out, his hands keeping him up and he was looking up at the branches. He was not facing them but Scott would bet his eyes were closed.
“He’s blocking everything out but the wind through the leaves,” Scott said softly. “It actually is kind of like meditating but in his case its a coping mechanism – something one of the therapists suggested that seemed to work.”
“My therapists were fucked,” Jackson said with a smirk. “They wanted to blame all my problems on abandonment issues.”
Scott snorted and turned to peer at his boyfriend. “That is fucked – anyone who knows you should get that your issues are many and varied.”
“Shut it,” Jackson snapped but kept his chin where it was, so Scott knew he really wasn’t pissed but more likely amused. “So why does he need to do that anyway?” he asked Scott, which showed he really was concerned too, he just wouldn’t say it outright.
Looking back at Stiles it was hard for Scott to explain but he gave it a go. “Its like... when he’s this upset Stiles has trouble seeing what’s important.” He sighed, that made Stiles sound like he was flippant which was definitely not the case. “I mean he’s the most observant person I know – he misses nothing.”
Scott decided that Jackson was not being insulting to Stiles, just Jackson being Jackson. “Well I think when he can’t focus properly he really does see everything but can’t... I don’t – decipher it. Like information overload I guess.”
“Don’t his pills help with that?”
“Adderall has side effects too,” Scott said softly. “And Stiles suffers badly when he uses too much – especially the anxiety and insomnia, not something he needs right now.”
“So not the best time to bring up my dream from last night?” Jackson said, Scott knew he did not expect and answer.
They watched Stiles in comfortable silence for a while; it was a beautiful day and lunch had just started so no-one was in a hurry. Scott loved to breathe and be immersed in Jackson’s scent along with his touch and body pressed up to his back. Derek had explained that even had they not become lovers it was not abnormal for packmates to be almost intimate in their interactions; sleeping in the same beds, sitting against each other – it was all about touch and proximity apparently. It calmed the wolf and helped stop any irritability between members. They hadn’t had any puppy piles just yet, as Stiles had joked about once, but Derek said it would likely happen when they had really grown into their wolf sides.
Scott was in no rush because right now he had Jackson all to himself – Derek had been clear that he was no threat. He had been kind about it but had hinted that for a permanent relationship he would need, as Alpha, someone closer to his own power level. Where Derek would find someone like that Scott had no idea but maybe Derek wasn’t even looking. As power levels went it was hard to judge exactly who stood where in their small pack; Derek said it didn’t matter, that his family had not put any stock in such things so neither would he. Physically Jackson was stronger and sometimes faster but Scott had found that it really didn’t matter for Jackson either – he treated Scott as an equal. That had surprised Scott more than anyone – especially after their volatile relationship before Jackson had been turned. Then it had been all about Jackson being the best and proving it – now that rivalry was gone and in its place a trust that they had each other’s backs.
That also meant they had to support the rest of the pack and Stiles was at the centre of theirs; human he may have been but they all knew without him they were nothing.
A tickling on his ear told Scott that Jackson was bored with watching Stiles and had decided to initiate a make-out session right here on school grounds.
“Stop it,” said Scott with no actual anger in his words.
The tickling became a nibbling so obviously Jackson was not going to be obedient today. He never was but Scott lived in hope.
He tried to shrug him off but failed. “I said stop – guh,” Scott felt his body go limp as Jackson ran his tongue across the back of Scott’s neck. Damn him knowing exactly what would reduce Scott to a quivering wreck. He was spun around so they could kiss and Scott had absolutely no objection to that. Stiles would be fine and right now he had the hottest guy in school sticking his tongue down his throat and running hands roughly through his hair. Which hey, they’d done this heaps of times but never out in the school grounds where anyone could comes across them.
As turn-ons went that was a big one.
Jackson grinned against his lips as Scott’s excitement became painfully evident. “Naughty boy,” he growled, and yes Scott found Jackson’s growly voice even hotter than his tongue, well that did depend what said tongue was doing at the time.
Deciding to take some action Scott reached around and grabbed Jackson firmly on the behind, using his strength to lift Jackson and spin them around, slamming his boyfriend against the wall. This way Jackson’s hard length was now pressed into Scott’s abdomen and he smiled, nipping Jackson’s lips which were already puffed up from their aggressive kissing. “Its not a tree,” Scott said against Jackson’s neck. “But it will have to do.”
Rolling his eyes Stiles turned his face back to the branches and huffed even though no-one could hear him. “Stupid rutting wolves.” They were unbelievable, right out there in the open and grinding against the wall as if they were invisible. He could imagine it something Jackson would do but thought Scott had more style... then again he thought, Scott had basically lost all brain activity with Alison so it probably was only worse with Jackson.
And yeah okay, he was a little jealous. Not of Scott because Jackson – just no. Not of Jackson because Scott... oh god no!
He was jealous just because he was – he knew he had no right and that they shouldn’t stop their lives for him – but grieving had no logic, that much he knew. Look at Jackson, he felt as bad, if not worse than Stiles at losing Danny but he was seemingly doing fine. Stiles figured Jackson hid it better and was probably making Scott the centre of his attention in order to avoid dealing with his grief.
It was tempting to say something to make them stop but in their focus on each other not even their werewolf hearing would catch anything he said. Footsteps interrupted his thought process and he turned around from his seated position...
Just in time to see the fist swinging towards his head.
To be continued.
Chapter 9: Part 3 Chapter 13
Pulling the curtains shut Chris took a moment to peer through the small gap and check for any signs of movement outside. They had been especially careful about being followed but continued vigilance had kept him alive for this many years and now more than ever he could not drop his guard.
“If you’ve quite finished with the drapery Dad we need to get this thing going,” Alison said with a wry smile and tapped the chair next to her at the long hardwood table. He obeyed but took the chair next to Derek which earned him a strange look from his daughter. He tried with a raised eyebrow to let Alison know she would regret ordering her old Dad around. Chris also knew it was all show, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his girl and being here was proof of that.
He looked around the table and assessed the mood of the people seated. Danny’s murder was still so recent and it had only been a few hours since Stiles’ abduction but Chris was once again amazed by the resilience of this group. Already he had heard muted laughter and some mock arguments – he knew they were nowhere near being over Danny’s death and had to be worried sick about Stiles but being typical teens they alternated between being emotionally open and covering their fragility with bluster. He smirked, realising that was not just something young adults were capable of doing.
“I said no Isaac, don’t ask again.”
Chris turned to Derek, who was in turn speaking with the new kid Isaac across from them. The conversation had obviously been going on quietly without Chris paying attention. Isaac was one of a few teens to join Derek’s partially parentless family – there was also Erica, a fiery blonde who had already been turned and Boyd who like Isaac was still human. Chris knew little about Boyd but Emily had been turned due to her severe epilepsy at the behest of Stiles. Isaac had been Jackson’s request, something about a bad home life and him needing a better family. More astonishing had been the fact Derek had actually discussed turning these kids with Chris, seemingly asking him for an opinion but at the time it had verged on Derek asking him for permission.
Which was just so far afield from what Chris knew of alphas that it had him explaining how if the kids made their choice there was no code against it. There was most definitely a code against Chris being this involved with a pack’s dynamics but he had already decided his life as a rule abiding hunter was over. That was decided when the ruling council deemed Danny’s death a justified shooting and failed to give Chris permission to take out the rogue hunters.
“I am not asking Derek,” Isaac said fiercely, studiously not looking at Chris – the kid had flinched once when he’d touched his shoulder and avoided Chris where possible. Since Isaac got on easily with everyone else and was not even intimated by Derek anymore told Chris all he needed to know about Isaac’s home life and what experience the kid had with parental figures, especially male ones. Isaac’s father would be getting a ride in a car and a conversation with a cattle prod very soon.
“I’m saying it – give me the bite.”
“It will just make you a bigger target,” Derek tried to explain but Isaac snorted and slammed the table.
“I’m already a fucking target... we all are,” he stared up at the ceiling, clearly holding back tears. “I just want to be able to fight back.”
“You and Boyd aren’t ready,” growled Derek. “Scott didn’t ask for it and my lack of control brought Jackson over too soon – I am not making that mistake again.”
Jackson stood suddenly, his eyes glowing a deep amber as Scott grabbed his arm. “You calling me a mistake Derek, what the fuck does that mean?”
Chris felt more than saw Derek tense beside him, no matter how much control he had, being challenged by his beta was hard for an alpha to not react.
“I should have waited Jackson and I’m sorry – the power of being alpha was new, it still is -.”
“So what,” Jackson sneered. “I’m not good enough for you Hale... now that you don’t get to fuck me!”
“Jacks,” Scott hissed and the rest of the table went quiet, well they had already been silent but Chris swore they must have held their collective breaths.
Turning to Derek it was hard for Chris’ hunting instincts not to kick in when he saw the red eyes, snarling lips with a hint of fang and facial hair sprouting by his ears. The growl was the worst, deep and rattling but rising quickly – just what this group needed, a smack down between two people who Chris knew did really care about each other.
Suddenly the growling ceased, the eyes faded back to normal and his features returned to human. Those eyes flicked to Chris, just for a moment looking uncertain before Derek turned to give Jackson his full attention. As Derek talked Jackson down in a calming manner Chris wondered what had brought about the sudden loss of anger. Then he saw the culprit, his own hand was resting on Derek’s thigh. So huh, there’s that. Maybe if they weren’t in the middle of planning a dangerous rescue and maybe if his life was a little more normal Chris would have given it more thought and more angst. As it was Derek hadn’t shrugged him off and so he left the traitorous hand where it was.
Couldn’t have the alpha going on a rampage now could he.
He watched them from the tree-line as by twos they got in their cars. He had not too much concern about them knowing he was here, part of his reborn power was people simply not noticing him unless he wanted them to... even werewolves. He knew because he’d tried it – stood in the shadows of the gym right across from Jackson as he did his weights and his friend had never even suspected. He had almost been caught while watching Stiles sleep, and yes Danny knew how creepy that was – but hey, he was still mostly human.
Possibly undead... well maybe alive but definitely – Danny shook his head and tried to think of a better term for what had happened. He smirked as the thought popped into his head – what would Stiles say? Something like ‘former non-living reanimated flesh-bot’. Yes his boyfriend (ex? Did death change their definition?) whatever it was Danny’s call and he continued to think ‘boyfriend’ – his boyfriend was a nerd, or more likely a geek because in Danny’s mind geek was way hotter. Mostly Danny knew very little of what he actually was, excepting the name and the fact as a necromancer death had a very loose grip on him. His power was meant to either come from death or be over it – maybe both. Childhood memories were little use; his birth parents had abused him and his power to the extent his recall was not exactly stable. Lydia was helping but until they knew more Danny was keeping his distance.
Yes, he knew that made him a bit of a dick – what with his best friend and boyfriend grieving his ‘death’ but what use if he turned back up and promptly died for real... or well permanently. Worse he could turn into a monster, one they would have to hunt and destroy.
Stiles’ abduction had put the hiding away on the back-burner so here he was, about to do something that was probably very stupid. Only Derek and Chris Argent were left, along with Alison and Isaac in seperate vehicles. Danny would have preferred it only be Derek and maybe Chris for this but time was not something they had a lot of, so he walked forward and at the last moment lowered his necromancer cloaking ability.
In the ensuing silence as both alpha and hunter stood, their mouths stupidly open – Danny was least able to speak before anyone tried to shoot him or tear his throat out.
“So um, hi,” he tried a reassuring smile and wave. “I know this is kind of... well I can explain but-,” the two adults just continued to stare which strangely made Danny more nervous than them attacking him. “Okay, I’ll explain later but right now I have a plan.” He could not help but rub his hands together and give a maniacal grin, because Stiles really had rubbed off on him. “A devious and cunning plan.”
The flat glares made Danny realise these guys had very poor senses of humour.
Author's notes: okay, I was writing away and realised I was just not capturing the Danny we are seeing more of on the show, not that I have to follow that but he just doesn't seem like someone who would get too dark or gloomy, serious yes but I think he would keep his humour. That and I needed a bit of light relief myself. cheers and hope to update soon.
Chapter 10: Part 3 Chapter 14
Part 3 Chapter 14
The droplet wavered on the underside of the steel strut, shimmering in the low light like a candle on the cusp of going out. He put almost his entire focus on it because outside of that droplet was pain and anger. In the distant part of his awareness was the stinging of his own nails, clenched and sunk into his palms. Along with that was the dull ache of what had to be a fractured jaw, probably an eye socket and the numbness in his ankle indicated a severe sprain but most likely a fracture.
Jackson was not having the best afternoon and it was all Stiles’ fault. Why was it that even when the plan didn’t came from Stiles but just involved him, and usually ninety-nine percent of the time it did, Jackson ended up at the pointy end. In this case being captured and tortured by the rogue hunters in some dive at a disused warehouse (so cliché he just knew their imaginations were that limited) and with no idea of when and if a rescue would come. Derek had been vague on the details except to order him to get himself caught and to stay put and to ‘trust’ his alpha.
Could he save himself?
Jackson smirked – of course he damn well could, he was Jackson Whittmore!
But that was not the plan.
“Look at that,” one of the hunters muttered. “The dog’s enjoying it – and you said he was too far gone.”
The other hunter just grunted and jabbed the cattle prod into Jackson’s side. The pain barely registered but the smell of his own flesh burning was unnerving and plan or no plan Jackson could not do this forever.
“He is pretty though,” said the first hunter, grabbing Jackson by the jaw (which confirmed for Jackson that yes, definitely fractured but given the lack of agony it was healing) and bringing his face up. “Seems this new Alpha has a thing for the boys – and this one’s meant to be mighty cosy with the other beta… maybe they’re not so tough after all.”
That made Jackson laugh and both hunters looked at him, maybe they were amazed he could understand them after this many hours of torture.
“Something to say pup?” mumbled the second hunter, toying with the cattle prod.
Jackson stared him in the eyes and smirked his best shit eater grin. “You think,” he growled out, both because he was almost wolfed out and because of his jaw. “That it’s a weakness?”
Hunter one laughed and shrugged. “I’m progressive dog, each to their own and all that but I gotta say a pretty little gay wolf ain’t exactly making me quake in my boots.”
“You have no idea what we’re… what I am capable of,” Jackson retorted, his humour now gone and replaced by a glare that should make these guys reconsider.
“Aww,” snorted the second hunter. “I think you hurt the little fag’s feelings.”
“My feelings aren’t why you’ll soon be a smear on the wall,” Jackson muttered, allowing his eyes to bleed to a deep amber red – almost black, they’d been doing that since Danny’s death and not even Derek could explain why. Nor could he explain Jackson’s increased strength and speed, both of which he was preparing to use. “You killed my friend. He was innocent, not that you care about such things – and yes I loved him, not that you’d understand love.” He made sure to show plenty of teeth and lips, inwardly laughing when he detected the scent of lust on the second hunter.
“Animals can’t love, especially half-breeds like you,” said the first hunter. “All you have are your bloodthirsty instincts and perverse mating needs.” He punched Jackson square in the face, smashing Jackson’s nose and splattering blood across his own knuckles.
Jackson just smiled coldly and ignored the hot red flow streaming down his face.
It was only pain which could be ignored.
The damage would heal.
His anger though could no longer be contained.
“I’m not going to kill you because of this,” he said with a shrug. “Or because I know you’ll go after my friends.”
The first leaned forward and sneered. “You’re not going to kill anything you fucking dog – but we’re going to cut you in half and if you’re lucky you’ll have a few seconds to hear the sound of your own innards hitting the ground before sweet oblivion.”
“I am going to kill you for Danny,” continued Jackson. “He was mine to protect and for that,” his teeth elongated and his expression turned feral. “For that I will strip the flesh from your body and grind your bones to dust.”
Screw the plan – Jackson had no more time to waste and these guys were dead men even if they didn’t know it yet.
The second hunter must have sensed something was off as he dropped the prod and went for his gun. Too late though as Jackson stood, the chains holding him shattered as he flexed and broke his arms free. The gun came up but Jackson blocked it easily, the nozzle blasted into the floor before, using the barrel, Jackson flung the guy over his head. The first hunter blanched at the unexpected show of strength but stood his ground, pulling out a long knife that was probably coated in wolf’s bane. Jackson dodged three swipes before he had to leap back – the guy may have sounded like a douche but he was good with a blade.
“Nothing to say dog!” yelled the hunter, keeping the blade pointed at Jackson’s torso he brought his other hand around with a large pistol in it. “You’re all the same, all bark and no-.”
His chest erupted in red and sparkling blue, the cattle prod stuck through where his chest should be. The hunter had about a split second to stare at it incredulously before his eyes rolled and his body slumped to the side, the prod still crackling and making the corpse shudder.
Jackson stood from where he had thrust the prod through, staring at his hands dripping in blood and flesh. He wanted to smile, to feel triumphant but he felt next to nothing. He had wanted to enjoy the moment, have the man begging for mercy and to still take his life but in the end it was self defence. One part of him figured Danny would be glad he hadn’t murdered in cold blood but his wolf wanted vengeance and this was not it.
“How did you move that quickly,” the second hunter was kneeling from where he’d been thrown, the pistol wavering in his outstretched hand. “Twenty years and I’ve never seen any of you move like that.”
Jackson wanted to answer, wanted to shout ‘I don’t know’ but he just opened and closed his mouth; he advanced on the hunter, ignoring the gun.
“Perhaps I’ll let you live,” he growled. “Perhaps I’ll keep your dirty little secret.” He moved, dodging the shots fired, again faster than the human could see and then was behind him, a clawed hand around the hunter’s neck, the other snapped the man’s gun hand with barely any effort. The guy yelled once but Jackson was somewhat impressed he took the pain.
“I wonder,” Jackson whispered into the hunter’s ear. “What your little band of brothers would think of someone who not only likes boys but boys with our wolfy charm. I bet they’d have a special way of dealing with someone like you.”
“Fuck you,” the man spluttered and struggled but Jackson held him fast.
“Get in line,” muttered Jackson and spun the man around, tightening his grip on the guy’s neck. “You don’t even get to touch me.”
He squeezed, wanting this time to feel the pleasure.
To taste revenge.
His head snapped up and searched the room. That voice. It couldn’t be.
“You can’t take his life Jackson – it is not who you are.”
The only light in the large space was a single gas lantern and it left too many shadows, too much to see even with his enhanced vision.
Feeling his claws retract and his eyes return to normal Jackson made sure to keep a grip on the hunter but for the moment he let him breathe.
“What the hell is going on – who are you?”
“I am who I’ve always been Jacks, your best friend.”
The voice sounded like Danny but faded, hollow. It was a colder Danny, saying the right things but lacking that spark that was his earliest and until recently only friend.
“This is a trick,” he spoke loudly. “Whoever you are if you want your buddy here to keep his head stop it right now.”
“No tricks.” Part of the darkness to Jackson’s left solidified, there was no actual movement as such but the shadows just coalesced until a figure stood there. Dressed all in black, with what seemed to be a shiny blackness underneath a cowled hood. “Its me Jacks, back from the dead.”
“I…” Jackson felt his heart beat almost literally splutter. The figure was the right height, the right build and the voice, excepting that iciness, was spot on. “You can’t be,” he said breathlessly. “Its impossible.”
“Says the guy who turns into a wolf,” spoke the figure, this time with a bit more warmth.
Jackson shook his head, both believing in that moment that it really was Danny but not wanting to trust his instinct. “This doesn’t change anything, they still tried to kill you – they will again and this time I will protect you.” He stared down at the hunter, who had amazingly kept his mouth shut, although that probably had more to do with Jackson’s vice like grip on his neck. “This piece of shit won’t show us the same mercy.”
“Probably not,” said the dark figure, stepping forward until it put a gloved hand over Jackson’s forearm. “But you becoming a murderer makes you the monster they want you to be.”
Jackson gulped and felt his hand begin to shake. “I’m not a monster.”
“No, you could never be that.” His voice was softer now, back to the Danny who Jackson knew so well and the touch was exactly how Danny would speak to him in class, a brush of the hand, tap on the leg and a tap with his foot – all to let Jackson know he was there when Jackson’s rage would be on the brink of breaking free.
This close Jackson could see the figure wore a lacrosse mask, in the soft light he could just make out the eyes. They were Danny’s, that was not something he could ever mistake having gazed into them over so many years.
“How can this be happening,” he said so softly he was unsure he had spoken, until Danny shrugged in response.
Releasing the hunter Jackson watched the man impassively as he fell to ground and tried to crawl away. Not from Jackson he realised but from Danny and if the guy had looked spooked before he now wore an expression of absolute terror.
“I won’t kill him in cold blood,” Jackson said. “But if he comes after us again-.”
“No need,” Danny said, the coldness back in his voice as he turned and stalked after the hunter. “You were never the real monster in this room.”
He removed the mask, and although Jackson could not see Danny’s face the hunter’s scream of terror spoke volumes.
“I am,” Danny said with finality and Jackson felt his blood run cold as Danny’s demeanour changed to become a predator. He kicked out a leg and flipped the hunter, snapping a hand into the guy’s chest – this move seemed to paralyse the guy as his struggles stopped immediately.
Danny’s form shimmered, an oily mist of black surrounded him as the hunter’s screams become louder and higher.
Then the screaming just stopped, there was a pop and Danny was standing normally again. Walking around Jackson could see Danny’s face was a mixture of torment and pleasure, if that were possible, as his features contorted. Colour spread across what had been lifeless grey and Danny opened his mouth and took an obvious and large breath.
He pushed back the hood and gave Jackson a big smile, the one he always gave when he knew he had somehow amazed Jackson yet again.
“What-the-fuck!” Jackson managed to ground out.
Danny shrugged and turned back to the hunter, now just a pile of grey ash in the form of a body that was already falling in on itself. Walking over Danny kicked a smaller but still deadly looking pistol out from where the guy’s hand would have been. “Sorry, but we gave him fair warning – pretty sure this has wolf’s bane bullets – no trouble for me but kind of annoying for you.”
“Fatal actually,” muttered Jackson, both relieved Danny had acted in defence but pissed he had not noticed the extra weapon.
“Maybe,” said Danny, shuffling back to stand in front of Jackson, close but obviously holding back. “There’s something different about you Jack’s – something more than the other wolves.”
“Yeah,” Jackson ran a hand across his head and smiled for real for the first time in ages even though he could feel himself crying at the same time, a second before tugging Danny forward in a bone crushing hug. He didn’t care how it was or what this all meant – he had Danny back.
Derek’s phone buzzed and he checked the message with a smile.
“Danny has him and more importantly the hunter’s truck – hopefully their sat-nav has a history we can track.”
A hand slid up his back and rested on his shoulder, making Derek shake his head at the absurdity of this moment. Stiles was still a prisoner, he’d sent Jackson into a very dangerous situation and Danny was back... sort of. Yet here he was letting his former enemy touch him up.
“It will, they’re from up north and have no idea where anything is down here – believe me they’d need the sat-nav to find the bathroom.”
Turning to Chris before shaking his head again Derek wondered if this was really going where he thought it was. Chris was experienced enough hunter to not give away anything with his heartbeat or other body signals but the constant touching, the sideways smiles and just the fact the guy wasn’t trying to shoot him told Derek this was ‘something’. It was something they’d get to when Stiles was found safe and sound.
He let Chris drive to the address Danny had sent, considering it was his vehicle it seemed the right thing to do and Derek had to send messages to the rest of the pack. The plan from here was not so cloak and dagger. Meet up with the pack where Jackson and Danny currently were, work out where they were holding Stiles and then basically go on the attack. Not subtle but then time was short and if Chris was right it wouldn’t be long before the rogue hunters used Stiles to draw the pack into an ambush.
That would not be a good result for Stiles or the pack. Much better if they took the fight to the hunters while the bastards thought they were safe.
“So you know we have to talk about something right,” stated Chris without preamble once Derek had sent the messages. Derek gulped and tried to look anywhere but at the hunter next to him. Yes it was something they had to talk about, they were adults after all and not naive teenagers who would spend weeks tiptoeing around the issue... but it still wasn’t easy. At least Derek knew he was interested – he knew it was risky and kind of strange given the age difference and hey, the guy was a hunter! Not to mention until recently he’d been married to a woman and had never indicated any interest beyond the touching and maybe Derek had misinterpreted the signals and Chris was about to let him down easy because somehow Derek had been too obvious and now he was going to... oh god thought Derek, he’d become a sixteen year old again.
“Danny could be a problem,” continued Chris as if Derek was not having some internal freak out.
“Oh,” because oh! “What do we know about something like him?” Derek ventured, still not able to look Chris’ way in case he saw his blush.
“It would help if we knew exactly what he was,” explained Chris, taking a hard right into the industrial area, they were probably five minutes away from where Jackson had been taken.
“Given his appearance last night I’m betting zombie,” Derek tried to say it without laughing because hey, zombie – really, as if such things-.
“Nope, they can’t speak full sentences, or devise complicated rescue plans and while he did appear kind of... Derek why are you looking at me like that?”
“Zombies? I was kidding Chris, they’re not real you know.”
“If you say so.”
He said it with a straight face and Derek frowned. While he liked to think he knew most every known supernatural it was possible he couldn’t know about every real and fake thing just because he was a werewolf.”
“Besides,” Chris said. “Before we left he hugged you first and there was no way a zombie would have gone you first over me.”
“And why is that? Does your all knowing hunter handbook have answers for everything?” asked Derek petulantly, pissed that Chris was lecturing him now about something as simple as – wait – he watched as Chris’ lips quivered.
“Because,” the hunter said, barely holding back laughter. “I’ve got bigger braaaaiiiiiinnnnsss.” His laughter most definitely broke out after that.
Chapter 11: Part 3 Chapter15
The rogue hunters are holding Stiles while the pack, human - wolf and necromancer must come together for the final attack.
“You can let go now,” Danny squeaked out, wondering if although he could survive death itself there might be no protection from a Scott hug.
“No,” was the muffled reply as Scott’s head was currently lodged firmly in Danny’s nape.
“Kind of have to if we want to rescue Stiles,” Danny said, trying to sound as serious as possible while having a Scott sized puppy dog totally latched onto him.
“Stiles!” Scott finally dislodged his head and stared up at Danny. “He’s gonna be... he’ll be – man this is so incredible.”
“Yep, I know – dead, now alive.” Danny smirked because it really didn’t feel that strange anymore, especially after he had fed.
Should he even call it that? He frowned, did this make him some kind of vampire?
Damn Scott and his preternaturally enhanced empathy.
‘Nothing,” shrugged Danny, finally removing himself from Scott’s grip – who in turn looked both hurt and sad but stayed by Danny’s side as they walked to the rest of the group. “Just worried about Stiles.”
Everyone nodded in agreement and Danny kept his expression neutral; he had just lied to a bunch of werewolves and not one of them blinked or looked at him funny. Obviously that was another thing to add to the list of abilities – accomplished liar to the supernaturally furry. Not that he wasn’t worried about Stiles – that was just not his immediate cause for being uncomfortable. By mutual agreement he and Jackson were not going to tell anyone exactly how they had dealt with the hunters. Chris Argent may be with them for the moment but who knew when he would decide they were monsters again and then there was Derek, who had maybe less tolerance for anything not werewolf.
He nodded at the group. “So what’s the problem?”
Chris stood a little apart but just crooked his finger, so Danny went to go nearer.
That’s when he found the problem, an invisible wall stopped him short. It wasn’t physical and there was nothing to actually feel but Danny just could not make his body take another step.
“Guess it works on him too,” muttered Chris and stepped over something on the ground. Taking a closer look Danny could see a dark line in the dirt but just like walking his hand just would not get close enough to touch it. “Its a barrier for the supernatural,” Chris explained. “Rare that they have someone able to make one.”
“Like what kind of someone,” Scott spoke softly. “A witch?”
Chris just shrugged, keeping his secrets. “The important thing is that none of you can cross it and I can’t break it – only the one who made it can.”
“So there’s no way in,” growled Derek. “I can virtually hear his heartbeat but Stiles may as well be on the other side of the world.”
The Alpha seemed on the verge of losing control but Danny noticed Chris touch his arm and the growling and red eyes just faded away.
“I didn’t say that,” Chris said with a frown. “Only that none of you can get in there.” He sighed and pulled out his gun, a bloody cannon in Danny’s opinion, checking the breach he put the weapon back in his belt and stepped over the line. “The moment that barrier is down you get in there and rescue your friend.” He was speaking to them all but looking only at Derek, an unspoken communication that Danny knew all too well.
The man wasn’t just giving an order... he was saying goodbye.
“Wait,” both Derek and Isaac spoke in unison. Isaac deferred to Derek who spoke as if he already knew the answer. “If only the one who made it can break then how-.”
Chris lowered his head, something in him was breaking figured Danny, probably the last bit of him that was a hunter.
“Their life powers the barrier.”
No more explanation was needed but it also explained why Chris saw this as a one way mission. He might get close enough to take the person out but then the rest of the hunters would make short work of Chris. He was probably very good but in the end he was only human and heavily outnumbered.
“Wait,” it was Isaac, stopping Chris a second time before the man walked off. He made a show of stepping over the line then back again, right in front of Derek. Danny could see the intensity of Isaac’s gaze as he stood before the Alpha. “He’s not the only human who can go in.”
Derek grabbed Isaac’s shoulder, a rare display of affection knew Danny. “Its too dangerous, they killed Danny just for friends with us and they’ll know I consider you pack even without the bite.”
Isaac smirked, an expression Danny had never seen on him. While not close friends he’d known him a long time and this sudden courage made Danny realise he had no monopoly on loving Stiles. Every person here was willing to risk their life for a boy they would have shrugged off as just loud and annoying only months ago. “They’ll know I’m not a wolf, right Mr Argent,” Isaac said, looking across at the former hunter who nodded. “Then they won’t see me as a threat.” Isaac dropped his head and when he lifted it Danny had to stifle a snort as Isaac revealed Scott did not have the only irresistible puppy dog eyes. “I know you promised to take care of me Derek but Stiles wouldn’t hesitate to do this for me – I owe him that much.”
Derek’s shoulders revealed his defeat but he pulled Isaac in for a tight hug and his eyes glowed red from the emotion. That’s when the idea sprung into Danny’s head and he coughed lightly, stepping forward he waited until everyone was looking his way.
“I have an idea Isaac, that is if you’re willing to risk this much then maybe we should consider a back-up... a plan B if you like.”
“Dude,” whispered Scott, still somehow latched to Danny’s side. “I think this is Plan B, or more likely C or, or um.”
“D,” added Jackson with a soft laugh.
“Actually,” smirked Danny, and rubbed his hands together. “D fits perfectly.”
It was kind of strange that they’d not tortured him, or even beaten him up but then Stiles was hardly going to complain. Excepting the knock on his head and the ropes and gag this was a fairly average kidnapping – because hey, Stiles Stilinski – kidnappee extraordinaire. Maybe the head wound was worse than he thought.
Of course since the woman standing before him was the one who had murdered his boyfriend she didn’t really need to prove her evil credentials to him.
“You want to know something strange,” she was talking again, he was pretty sure she completed all the villain boxes, including a propensity to love the sound of her own voice. “Not only did I see you dead yet here you are bright eyed and breathing – but we had to momentarily break the barrier to get you in here. Know what that means little boy?”
He was gagged and could not answer but Stiles hoped his eyes conveyed the correct amount of ‘fuck you’.
“Not a wolf,” she continued, holding a knife that looked like it still had blood. Probably his if the burning on his arm meant anything. Which also meant there had been some bloodletting but while he was unconscious and Stiles knew enough from Derek-wolf-lore101 that if he did not heal when unconscious then a wolf he was not; and she knew that too.
“But definitely not human,” she spoke with distaste. “Only curiosity makes me want to know exactly what you are but kind of irrelevant since we will kill you anyway.”
He rolled his eyes – did she really need to make the threat, wasn’t it kind of implied with the whole rogue hunter thing, kidnapping and not forgetting his dead boyfriend! All Stiles wanted was a few minutes unbound with her, knowing he had no chance even if that were true he would relish getting just a few hits in before his ultimate demise.
“I was putting my money on witch,” she sneered, obviously hunters thought very little of them. “But then there was the incredible coincidence of dear Danny’s body going missing – which makes me wonder what exactly was going with you two since not only do I remember seeing you lifeless but I absolutely remember the pleasure of shooting out his liver with a special bullet that human or wolf – no one survives it.”
Stiles wanted to bash the grin off her face, he wished he had the strength to rip these ropes off and wrap hands around that throat... but instead the bit about the body broke through the anger and need for vengeance.
Danny’s body had gone missing?
He wracked his memory but surely something like that would have been mentioned by his Dad, the other cops or even the local news. But no, nothing – if it was true it had been kept absolutely quiet. Except...
Certain things suddenly dropped into place and he felt like a detective at the end of a movie, as the evidence flew through his head and the connections were made. He tried to catalogue them properly: Danny’s body missing.
Jackson’s strange behaviour including the dreams he wanted to talk to Stiles about.
Stiles’ narrow escape at the shooting.
Most of all his gut instinct and the things he’d been seeing out of the corner of his eye.
Stiles knew he was working on some flimsy evidence but when wasn’t he and besides, it was time for a bit of hope.
His grin must have made her pause her tirade and he couldn’t help taunting her in a sing-song voice.
“Chris Argent,” the woman shook her head then nodded at the men holding them. “I am going to assume you’re not here to offer assistance?”
He sniffed and smoothed out his jacket, ignoring the goons at his elbows. Sure they’d taken his gun but foolishly they thought him now powerless. Any true hunter would never let a threat have their arms free, still it wasn’t time to make a move yet – not until he knew who made the barrier.
“I’m here to remind you of the code.”
“Hah,” she snorted and walked up to Isaac, who he had to give the kid credit, he held his ground. “Who do we have here,” she crooned and reached out to tousle Isaac’s curls, her hand was of course batted away by the blue eyed boy.
“Pretty,” she smiled and Chris felt his stomach drop, he knew that smile – he’d seen it on his sister enough times. He’d hoped she’d want to hold the both of them, interrogate them and give them the time needed to find the right person. “I’m guessing you’re next on the new Alpha’s list, you certainly check all the boxes.” She patted Isaac’s chest and this time the kid let her, he must have sensed she was unstable and was making no sudden moves. Whatever had happened in Isaac’s life he knew the signs of impending violence and also knew to make himself as small and unthreatening as possible. Tall as he was the kid seemed to shrink a little and drop his head. Chris hoped it worked but had the sinking feeling this woman had already decided on a course of action.
“Cute, lovely eyes,” she moved around him, trailing a finger up his shoulder and down Isaac’s arm. “A little lost, probably broken.” She gave a little laugh as Isaac visibly tensed. “Ooh, touched a nerve did I?” She made eye contact with Chris and continued her taunt. “I’m guessing Daddy doesn’t love you or maybe,” she leaned around and pressed a chin to Isaac’s shoulder. “Maybe he loves you a little too much.”
Isaac spun with his fists clenched and it was the move she had wanted and Chris realised a second too late – the excuse she needed. Chris yelled but was held back as a blade glinted and before Isaac could even bring his hand up she had buried it to the hilt in his chest.
“No, fuck!” Chris roared, struggling in the goon’s grip. “He’s just a boy you crazy bitch.”
Isaac had not uttered a word, not even yelp of pain as he dropped to his knees. Blood poured down his chest as she ripped the blade free, which finally elicited a whimper as Isaac tried and failed to breathe through the blood. Chris refused to break eye contact with the kid as he slowly dropped lower, never once giving the woman the satisfaction of showing fear or pain. Isaac gave Chris a final smile before dropping his head as there was a loud and sickening gurgle. His body shuddered then was still and Chris felt the angry tears welling up.
“He was innocent,” Chris rasped out.
“No!” the woman yelled. “He ran with them, so he gets to die with them, and then there’s you.” She walked up, the bloodied knife’s tip nicking Chris’ chin. “An Argent. You come from one of the longest and proudest families yet here you are, rolling around in the muck with a filthy wolf. Killing you would be a blessing.”
“Then do it,” he sneered. “Just one more reason why Derek will gut you when he gets here.”
“Oh he’s coming is he?” she smiled and tossed her hair back. “Will he be particularly upset about your death Chris,” she laughed as Chris kept his expression stoney. “Well that’s a new one,” she lowered the knife and popped the buttons of Chris’ shirt one-by-one – halfway down she paused as Chris gave his own chuckle.
“You know what they say,” he said softly. “Once you’ve gone wolf you’ll never go back – he’ll come for me, for Isaac and for Stiles... kill us all and it won’t matter. Derek’s not a crazed alpha and he’s not alone; he’s organised and calculating and will never stop.”
She stared into his eyes and for once seemed a little unsure. “A hunter and an alpha,” she seemed like she was talking to herself more than Chris. “What kind of faith you must have in him to walk in here and wait like a damsel in distress.”
She pointed the knife at a dark haired woman standing to the side. “The barrier – is it secure?”
The woman closed her eyes and turned in a full circle. “Unbroken, they cannot enter.”
Chris smiled and felt something shift within him. The timing could not have been more perfect.
“What the hell do you find so amusing!” she spat, moving to pop the rest of his buttons.
“Your stupidity,” he sneered. Breathing deep he readied himself for what was about to come – everything was on the knife’s edge, quite literally.
“For instance,” he spoke loudly, ensuring he had all the attention of the rogue hunters. “Did you know that while we consider werewolves supernatural there is an actual science to what they are.” He held her eyes, seeing the confidence fade as she felt the icy tendrils of no longer being in charge of the situation – he had no idea what she was thinking but was almost certain she had no idea what was coming. “For instance you would be well aware about how we can use electricity to control their shifts and their healing but did you ever think how it all actually happens – like what is the bite and is it a virus and if so how long is the incubation period.”
“What the hell are y-.”
She was suddenly grabbed from behind by a clawed hand and Chris had never felt more relieved in his life.
“If anyone moves I tear out her throat,” Isaac growled through newly grown fangs. The entire room went silent but the hunters did obey, except to release Chris who shrugged them off and went to stand in front of the woman. He still didn’t know her name and didn’t care to, it was unlikely she would survive this and he was kind of okay with that.
“Impossible,” she rasped, Isaac allowing her to talk but not move. “He couldn’t get through the barrier.”
“The incubation period,” Chris held up a finger, continuing his lecture. “Is actually very short, especially in a teenage body like young Isaac here, but still – there are a couple of minutes when given the bite that he is still human.” Chris turned and nodded at Isaac, hoping to convey to the kid how happy he was the bite was successful because otherwise the sight of Isaac drowning in his own blood would have been one of the bigger things on Chris’ conscience. “Time enough,” Chris drawled. “To cross the barrier.”
“Brand new,” the woman smirked. “All fang and claw but no experience.” She kicked back her heel and Isaac yelped, she spun and punched his throat before running at Chris with her knife. Before Chris could react she had plunged it into his stomach and that is when the world seemed to grind to a halt.
Chris could see the other hunters look on amazed, maybe they were with her but had never really expected her to actually kill an Argent – which for most hunters was like royalty. Isaac stared too, his eyes amber and worried as Chris gasped and managed to grab the woman’s hand, preventing her pulling it out. She blanched at his grip and Chris grabbed the handle himself, slowly pulled the blade from his flesh, the sound so loud in his ears and the room bleeding red as the pain and the anger coursed through him – speeding the change.
“No,” she mumbled, staring first at his abdomen where right next to the quickly healing knife wound were the puncture wounds from an Alpha’s bite. Next she stared at his eyes and Chris knew what she saw.
“Yes,” he growled though fangs and with a flick of the wrist the knife went flying – straight into the dark haired woman’s chest. She crumpled and Chris felt like a weight was lifted. “The barrier is down!” he yelled at Isaac. “Find and protect Stiles!”
That is when all hell broke loose.
Chapter 12: Part 3 Chapter 16
Part 3 Chapter 16
The first sounds of gunfire made Stiles flinch, even though he knew it was coming. Bound and gagged he could only try and make sense of the staccato blasts of automatic weapons and the popping of handguns; interspaced with those were the guttural roars of the pack.
It took a few minutes to come to an end with a lot less screaming than he expected.
He would have made some sound since he knew though gagged at least Derek would be able to hear him – except the knife at his throat kind of stopped him. The mad bitch had come in here soon after the first shots, closely followed by Isaac. Stiles had internally cheered as he saw a wolfed out Isaac but unfortunately not three steps in Isaac had gone down with a crossbow bolt in his chest; the only evidence he lived was a shudder and rasping cough every ten seconds.
Stiles figured she would have finished Isaac off but he was too close to the door and she was using Stiles as a shield. The lack of fighting meant someone had to come through that door at any moment, either werewolves or hunters and Stiles knew what was more likely, as did his crazy kidnapper who held the knife against him tightly enough to draw blood.
Yet the door remained closed.
“If any one of you dogs take one step inside I slice your boy from ear to ear!” crazy bitch yelled and Stiles flinched since she was just by his head.
There was no answering from outside, some muttering and moving about but the door did remain shut.
Just as he was trying to think ‘what would I do?’ the single light in the room flickered then went out. Not sure what this could achieve since even without it they’d know if the door was opened Stiles struggled with his gag and finally managed to twist his mouth enough to speak. He had to talk her down because no assault was going to work and though he figured his survival was unlikely the longer Isaac lay there the less chance he had to heal.
His words were stopped however as the light came back on and Stiles gasped, as did his captor. Before them stood two figures. Both were dressed in black with ski masks which one removed almost immediately to reveal it as Jackson. He moved quickly to Isaac to remove the bolt but Stiles’ attention was mostly on the remaining figure because even though he had suspected – to see the evidence was something else.
Right height, stance and even the slant of the figure’s head.
“Is this where you offer a deal?” the woman said coldly. “Because I am almost certain I can cut his throat before you reach me.”
“Big talk,” the figure answered, reaching to remove his mask. “But as you can see I have little faith in your ability to kill properly.”
Stiles blinked back the tears as he stared at his boyfriend. He had suspected it since she’d mentioned the body missing – that combined with his own appearance of death at the shooting and Jackson’s increased abilities had triggered something in his memory. It was just a side note at the back of one of Derek’s old books but enough to have stuck in Stiles’ head.
The woman swore but her grip did not lessen, Stiles was sure he could feel blood dripping down his neck.
“So you’re a fucking wolf after-all – we were so sure you two were the weak link.”
“No wolf,” Danny held out his gloved hands. “And don’t feel bad, I thought I was human too.”
“Not a wolf... then-,” Stiles felt her grip shake along with her voice and tried to breathe evenly, knowing he’d only have one chance. “Whatever the fuck you are can you bring lover boy here back from the dead?”
“Strange you should ask,” Danny spoke in an icy tone and Stiles watched fascinated as his face drained of colour, his lips peeled back to show jagged teeth beneath grey gums and his eyes turned into shiny black orbs. “I am death you stupid bitch.”
“Necromancer,” she whispered the name but Stiles heard just fine. “That’s how I thought this one was dead,” she nudged Stiles and he felt the knife slice another cut, way too close to his airway for comfort. “You know,” she continued. “A power like yours is a valuable commodity – I wonder if your pack knows that.”
“Sounds like you’re offering a deal.”
Stiles could not help but be fascinated by the spectre Danny had taken on; he had no idea if it was a trick or maybe his true form – in any event as terrifying as it was meant to be Stiles just saw Danny, his Danny. Behind him Jackson slowly stood, his own menace evident in the way he turned his eyes to the woman and flexed his clawed hands. Jackson had several holes and tears in his black shirt but Stiles could see unblemished skin beneath – his healing factor was certainly amped up, as was the sheer strength emanating from him. If Stiles was this woman he would’ve have been begging for his life by now.
Instead she actually laughed. “Un-fucking-believable,” her voice remained steady, controlled – which meant she thought somehow the advantage was hers and Stiles thought maybe she was right. Danny may be back from the dead and Jackson was turning into superwolf but the knife was still at his very human and very vulnerable throat.
“I come here to put down a few ferals and end with this... a hunter gone traitor and a fucking necromancer and worst of all,” she chuckled and Stiles new crazy when he heard it. “Worst of all I’ve been beaten by a pack of fags.” The blade dug in deeper and Stiles tried to remain calm even though he knew it was only a fraction away from cutting an artery.
“Danny?” Stiles heard Jackson asking the question, obviously whether to attack or not.
“Wait!” said Danny desperately, letting his features go back to human. “I’ll guarantee your safety if you let him go right now.”
“Really?” she asked sweetly and Stiles knew that sound of crazy. He loved Danny for thinking good of people but this was one time he needed him to understand that this particular insane bitch had no care about getting away – she just wanted to destroy as much as she could even if it meant her own death. “I’ll just get to walk out of here?” her voice became shrill and Stiles knew he wouldn’t get another chance.
With a meaningful look at Jackson that he really hoped was interpreted properly Stiles swung his head back and felt a satisfying crunch as his skull flattened her nose. It happened so quickly he wasn’t sure what was first, her screech or the sharp sting of his flesh being sliced – then the knife was wrenched away as Jackson’s arm came out of nowhere, knocking her and the blade away. That along with his backward momentum had Stiles falling, which considering the speed of everything else seemed to take forever. He could see Danny moving towards him, he could feel the hot rush of his own blood pouring down his neck and lastly the terror of the world going black around him.
Sitting in the waiting room Scott watched as Chris Argent spoke quietly with Stiles’ Dad. He could zone in on what was said if he wanted but right now he really needed to process.
Most importantly Stiles was going to be okay; he’d have quite the scar but they’d kept the bleeding under control until getting him to emergency. Back at the warehouse the sound of sudden action had them all rushing through the door and the first thing Scott had seen was Stiles on the ground, Danny leaning over him with red already coating his hands and forearms as he tried to stop the blood from gushing out of Stiles’ neck. He’d faced death before, he’d watched people die but this was different; his entire world had shrunk to that moment and he remembered how his mind had just wanted to shut down.
Only the smell of someone else’s blood had made Scott look around to see Isaac against the wall, holding his own bloodied chest. The sight had spurred Scott into action, he’d had to have faith that Danny and Jackson would take care of Stiles and when he had spared a glance Jackson had made eye contact and nodded, as if to say ‘we’ve got this’. After that it was a rush of activity of arranging who was going where and how they would explain this to the hospital and the sheriff.
Isaac shifted next to him, bringing Scott back to the present. The taller boy was wearing a jacket borrowed from Chris to hide his ripped and blood soaked shirt, thankfully his wounds had closed but barely awake he had fallen asleep snuggled to Scott’s side. He had refused to leave earlier and now Scott was thankful for the company. Jackson was with Danny, hovering by the entry to where Stiles was being set up in a private room, apparently being the Sheriff’s son did accord some privileges.
Scott narrowed his eyes and wondered what exactly was going on with them. It was more than Danny and Jackson being best friends and it had something do with Stiles – the three of them had only been separated once they were here and it had seemed almost physically painful to Jackson and Danny.
Jackson must have felt the look because he glanced over and smirked, raising an eyebrow at where Isaac was virtually nuzzling Scott’s neck. Scott could only give a ‘what are you going to do’ shrug and was thankful Jackson seemed far from jealous, maybe he’d changed but it was more likely Isaac had that ability to charm just about anyone, even someone as territorial as Jackson. Besides, like Jackson before him Scott had seen the damaged skin criss-crossing Isaac’s chest when he was patching him up. Maybe Isaac would never scar again but he had enough from before becoming a wolf to last several lifetimes. No-one endured something like that without being traumatised which meant Isaac fit perfectly into their pack where Scott knew they all had scars, some visible and some not.
Scott whispered a ‘love you’ at Jackson who had turned back to Danny, he pretended not to hear but his cheeks flushed red and his grin remained. Yeah, they were going to be okay – maybe even with Isaac thrown into the mix. The concern remained however because Scott knew Jackson was more than just a wolf now, he was faster and stronger and they had all seen it in the fight. Derek had no explanation and Chris had just shook his head when Scott asked in the car. Added to that was the fact that Stiles was alive – which Scott wouldn’t give up for anything but he’d seen enough wounds to know that his friend should be dead.
Maybe Dr Deaton would know, hell he’d probably known for ages but would only explain if Scott asked directly, it was kind of how the guy operated. Scott absently ran his fingers through Isaac’s soft curls and focused his hearing on the monitor in Stiles’ room, showing a strong and steady heartbeat. They were all alive and the threat was over for now, he really didn’t want to know what Chris and Derek were going to do with the rogue hunters – a few had died but most were alive including the woman in charge.
One thing Scott knew he was going to have to face soon and it was the fact that none of this could be coincidence, he’d tried to avoid it but it was not possible anymore. In a town like this, not huge but large enough to have a population that could never know each other, they had somehow formed a pack that included a necromancer, a former hunter and whatever Lydia ended up being. As Deaton entered the waiting room, his pleasant but knowing smile sweeping the room Scott bit his lip and made eye contact with his boss and mentor.
Too many questions Scott knew, and not enough answers.
Examining the puckered flesh in the mirror Stiles touched it gingerly but all he felt was hardened tissue. He wrapped the scarf around, borrowed from Jackson for his first day back at school. Several turns let him know he had it covered but did earn a snorted laugh from the bed.
Turning he glared at his boyfriend, who was lounged in only a tight undershirt with the bed-sheet covering the rest of him. “Comments?” asked Stiles.
Danny shrugged and made a show of staring before answering. “Don’t hide it – some war wounds are meant to be seen.”
Adjusting the scarf one more time Stiles frowned. “Not one that has healed over in less than two weeks – even high school students would know that’s weird.”
“Just another benefit of dating the undead,” Danny said, his voice wavering just a little.
“Hey!” Stiles pointed a finger. “Enough of that – I told you I don’t care, having you back is worth it.”
Danny smiled, Stiles was happy to see that as the days went by Danny was becoming more like his old self. There were still times when he seemed to collapse in on himself, becoming distant and cold but both Stiles and Jackson seemed to sense it and one or both of them turned up to bring him back from wherever he was going. They didn’t know what it really meant, just that the three of them had some kind of symbiotic relationship going on. Danny had little idea, he reckoned it was the same thing he’d had with his birth parents but they had abused it so much he had no real clue as to how it was meant to work. He also refused to say how exactly he had broken it.
Which Stiles accepted. Hell, if he’d killed his parents, no matter how evil they were, it was not something he’d want to recount.
He’d been unable to find the book at Derek’s – either it was lost or possibly stolen, Stiles had his suspicions. The most he could remember was that it had mentioned a triumvirate of power where necromancers were concerned. How it was formed was a mystery and what it meant for the three of them was also unknown. Obviously Danny would return from death, Jackson had increased power and so far Stiles had better than normal healing and an ability to ‘play’ dead. There was also the sense of each other’s mood which although interesting and helpful where Danny was concerned was kind of embarrassing otherwise. Stiles really didn’t want to know every time Jackson got happy with his best friend Scott and he hated the knowing looks Jackson gave him after Stiles and Danny had enjoyed a particularly passionate evening.
It was something they would work out eventually. For now he would try to get some normalcy back to his life. Which meant going in early today to catch up on schoolwork, leaving his incredibly sexy boyfriend mostly naked in his bed. Stiles raised an eyebrow as his eyes roamed Danny’s body. It was amazing that given how many times Danny had been viscously sacrificed by his birth parents his skin remained perfect and blemish free; maybe that’s why he wanted Stiles not to hide it – he needed proof that this was real. Stiles removed the scarf and absently traced the scar, maybe Danny had a point, the wound not only reminded him of how close they had come to losing but how far they were willing to go.
As he walked towards the bed and lifted Danny’s shirt up and off Stiles grinned and smiled properly for the first time in ages.
School could wait just a little longer.
Thanks to all who have followed and kept up with the story. I have ended it with possibilities and questions unanswered because that is more real for me. I think their adventures could continue in this alternative universe but I have diverged enough from the events of season 2 for it to become too confusing. I could also not resist the temptation of some Scisaac - my next obsession I think. Be well and to all the other writers keep up the fantastic work - I take so long for each chapter mostly because I am too busy reading instead of writing; I am in awe of the talent out there. Regards,AshtakRa.