A/N: So I've been feeling extra motivated lately, hence two updates in two days! This chapter is a little hectic, but enjoy!
STILES
It was a Sunday morning when Scott rang Stiles seven times, consequently waking him up from a very pleasant slumber.
"What?" Stiles groaned into the receiver.
"Stiles! You need to get here right now! Jackson survived!" He practically yelled down the phone, Stiles held it away from his ear to save his ear drums from bursting.
"Be there in ten." He sighed, heaving himself out of bed. 'That's my chill Sunday out the window.' He thought wearily.
Once showered and dressed, he hopped into his jeep that he'd named Roscoe and pulled out of the drive. It didn't take him long to get to Derek's, Beacon Hills' lazy state in the early morning meant that there was hardly a single car on the roads. He reduced his shouting/singing to a hum when the jeep bumped over the uneven ground leading up to the Hale house, knowing Derek would hear him.
He was met with the sight of Scott waving frantically from the porch when he slowed to a stop in the clearing. He hopped out the jeep, slipping his keys into his pocket and hurried over to his best friend.
"Is Isaac here?" Stiles asked. For some reason, Scott turned bright red at the mention of their other friend, avoiding eye contact.
"Uh no. Not yet." He answered, spinning on his heels to enter the house. Stiles decided to ignore it for now, they had more pressing matters to deal with. Scott led him down the steps to the basement and they entered the panic room, the door was already open and Derek was sitting on a chair from the dining room next to the Jackson's bed.
"I swear to god, you're freaks! You fight me at a party then lock me down here like some psycho serial killer?!" Jackson shouted.
"It wasn't really much of a fight considering I beat you senseless." Derek corrected, his tone calm and collected. Jackson let out a growl of frustration.
"Whatever. Just let me out of these things!" He shook the shackles for emphasis.
Derek sighed.
"We have to explain what's happening to you, Jackson."
"What's happening is that I'm going to go bat shit crazy on you when I get out." He snapped.
"Where was that fighting spirit when Derek broke your face?" Stiles piped up.
Jackson's head snapped downwards in the direction of his voice, a grimace spreading over his handsome face.
"Oh great." He groaned.
"You've been down here for two days, for your own safety."
"For my own safety? The hell does that-"
"Shut up and I will explain!" Derek roared. The room fell deathly silent.
Derek inhaled deeply then continued.
"You turned up on my doorstep Friday night completely out of it. You've been bitten by a werewolf. There were two possible outcomes, you could have died, or survived. Unfortunately, you survived." Jackson's expression was hilarious, he looked utterly thrown.
"What drugs are you on and where can I get some?" He sniped. Derek smacked a hand to his forehead in irritation.
"Jackson were serious. We had to keep you down here because when you shift for the first time, you go nuts." Scott added. Jackson seemed to be considering the situation for a moment, then his features twisted up in a look of disbelief.
"You're all liars. The is just a prank." Derek jumped up from his seat and threw his hands up in defeat.
"Someone's at the door. Scott stay with Jackson." He ordered. Stiles decided to follow him to the front door, curious about who it could be. Upon throwing the door open, Stiles recognised it to be Danny Mahealani from the Lacrosse team. They were on friendly terms thanks to Scott, and being the only two openly gay males in their school.
Danny gave Derek the once over, raising an eyebrow, then smiled at Stiles in surprise.
"Hi, I'm Danny." He addressed Derek, holding out a hand which he ignored.
"He's from school." Stiles explained. "Hey Danny, what's up?"
"I'm looking for Jackson." How on earth did Danny know he was here?
"He's not here." Derek replied bluntly, moving to close the door when Danny put a hand out to stop it.
"Cut the crap. I know he's here. I tracked his phone."
"Little creepy, Danny." Stiles commented, Danny simply rolled his eyes.
"It was for a good reason, he disappeared Friday night then wouldn't answer any of my calls or texts. I got worried when he wasn't home either."
Stiles shot Derek a look and they appeared to be thinking the same thing. Danny could tell them what happened on Friday. Derek gestured for him to enter and they went to the kitchen. They all took a seat at the kitchen island and Derek glanced at Stiles, he perceived it as a gesture to take the lead. He felt a fluttering in his stomach.
"So uh, we know where Jackson is." Danny's face brightened instantly. "But you need to tell us exactly what happened on Friday, because was hurt-"
"Jackson's hurt?!" Danny exclaimed.
"Calm your beans, he's fine now but he was hurt. But we need to know how." Derek decided to jump in.
"We can't say a lot but it's important you tell us everything you know."
Danny nodded slowly, his expression uncertain.
"Well we were walking in the woods, it was about 9 or so, just talking. Then I guess we got into an argument and Jackson just stormed off. I tried to go after him but... I was mad too so I went home." Stiles immediately sensed that there was something Danny wasn't telling them.
"What were you talking about?" He quizzed. Danny shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
"Uh, I'd rather not say. It's personal."
"You'll just have to see Jackson at school then." Derek threatened, surprising Stiles a little. Danny looked desperately between Stiles and Derek then exhaled heavily, his head in his hands.
"If I tell you, you can't tell anyone. Jackson will kill me if he finds out I told you."
"You can trust us Danny. Promise." Stiles said sincerely. Danny stared at Stiles for a few moments more, as if assuring himself that he wanted to do this, then he spoke.
"Jackson and I have kind of been seeing each other, for quite a while." Stiles couldn't help the way his mouth fell open in shock, he closed it quickly, waving at Danny for him to continue. "And you could say I've been on his back lately about telling people. I'm really sick of keeping it a secret, but Jackson wants to. That's what we fought about."
Stiles sucked in a breath of air, trying to calm the thoughts that were flying around his head. If Danny and Jackson had been seeing each other, then why did Jackson do what he did at the party? Did Danny even know?
"How long is quite a while?" Derek asked, evidently pondering the same hint as Stiles.
Danny shrugged noncommittally.
"It's hard to gauge. Are we talking when we first started fooling around or when we realised we had feelings for each other?"
"Jesus, Danny." Stiles sighed. "I always got bromance vibes from you two but I didn't realise it was this bad."
Danny shook his head, a sad smile on his face.
"So now that I've made myself as vulnerable as possible to you, can I see him?" He requested. Derek nodded and pointed him in the direction of the panic room.
"Derek, are you sure Danny should know about all this?"
"Jackson will tell him at some point. Might as well get it over and done with." He sighed.
The second Jackson caught sight of Danny he began struggling against his restraints.
"Oh thank god, Danny come help me outta these." He begged.
"What the hell? Why is he tied up like that? And what is this room?" Danny demanded.
"It was necessary." Derek shrugged.
"What situation could possibly call for handcuffing Jackson in a basement for two days?" Danny cried.
"Scott did you explain to Jackson while we were upstairs?" Derek asked, ignoring Danny. Scott nodded.
"I think he's still sceptical."
"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Danny interrupted furiously.
This time, Jackson didn't even wait for someone to speak for him.
"Apparently I've been bitten and now I'm a werewolf." He scoffed.
"Guys this isn't funny-" Danny scolded, but it seemed Derek had had enough messing around.
"No, you're right it's not funny. And I'll show you why." He turned to face Jackson then began bellowing in his face.
"You know what? You're just a rich brat and so far up your own ass you can't even smell your own shit anymore. You're pathetic and weak, I beat you up at that party and it was so easy I could have done it in my sleep, werewolf or not. In fact, I wish you'd died instead of becoming a werewolf you air-headed little boy."
Everyone stood stock still, almost scared to breathe, apart from Jackson, who was growling louder and louder, gnashing his teeth at Derek until his skin began to stretch like rubber. His bones cracked and reformed, hair grew where it wasn't before, and Stiles couldn't believe his eyes.
Jackson was a werewolf.