Fic: If Not by Choice 3/? (Derek/Jackson, NC-17)
Title: If Not by Choice (3/?)
Rating: NC-17 for the whole story
Pairing: Derek/Jackson
Spoilers: Season 1
Warnings: Slash, possible Canon-timeline mistakes. Not beta'd.
Word Count: 4047 words in this part
Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish they were mine. But nothing here belongs to me, except for the plot.
Summary: He'd have to go and take a look at those marks, make sure he was just worrying too much and he hadn't done anything stupid that he couldn't remember.
Author's Notes: Good old Fuck-or-Die. Written for a prompt at TeenwolfKink. I didn't want to post this until it's finished but I couldn't resist. Goes AU from "Heart Monitor" and the Derek/Jackson locker room scene in "The Tell" didn't happen.
“Jackson, you-” Derek started again but Jackson didn’t let him finish.
“No, stop it! I’m not listening to your insane story anymore. You’re a- a werewolf, good for you, but you didn’t- what did you call it? - claim me and I. Am. Not. Dying. I don’t want to be your mate! Go pester someone else if you like it so much but let me go home!” His voice continually rose until he yelled the last part right in Derek’s face and that had just been blatantly stupid. You didn’t yell at your insane kidnapper, werewolf or no. Jackson watched TV, he knew that.
The bright, blue flash of Derek’s eyes was the only warning he got before he was thrown back on the bed and Derek was above him, pushing his shoulders into the mattress. Jackson stared in horror as his teeth elongated into sharp fangs and his face changed like Scott’s had before he squeezed his eyes shut against the sight, breathing against the stinging pain from Derek’s claws on his shoulders, tearing jagged holes into his shirt.
He was going to die. Ripped apart, just like that.
The monster growled, deep and angry, and Jackson didn’t dare to move a muscle or call for help, just waited for the inevitable bite. If he just relaxed, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much, probably be over really quickly but his body wouldn’t obey him.
“Oh god, don’t, please. I don’t want to be your mate but don’t kill me..” he whimpered, turning his face to the side, unconsciously baring his throat in a submissive gesture. His eyes filled with tears until they finally overflowed and rolled down his cheeks. “Please, just. . . take someone else. .”
The wolf gave another growl at that and pressed him harder into the mattress, roughly pushing his knees apart to kneel between them until their hips were aligned and Jackson’s eyes flew wide open.
Oh god, was that...?
He flinched when something tickled his neck, warm and slightly rough and oh, that was Derek’s tongue. He was licking Jackson’s skin, tasting him like he was an especially delicious treat, now making low, content sounds in his throat that made Jackson’s stomach tingle.
Maybe Derek would go for his neck, tear his throat out, or his spine, like he’d threatened Scott and Stiles, so it’d be over fast. Jackson prayed that werewolves didn’t like to play with their food before they ate it.
A sob wrenched out of his throat, barely restraint and pathetic because he was sure it’d hurt, at least the very first bite but the next thing he knew, Derek was off him and pulling him up into a sitting position, looking human and guilty and worried.
“It’s okay, Jackson, you’re okay, breathe. I couldn’t control it, I’m sorry-”
He wasn’t okay, he was so very far from okay. Jackson was desperately pulling air into his lungs, his chest heaving up and down but it was like there wasn’t any oxygen at all.
“You can’t say things like that. If you openly reject me as a mate, the wolf reacts to it-”
Derek slowly rubbed up and down his thighs, soothing and comforting and his rapid breathing slowed down until it was almost bearable but the tears just wouldn’t stop, wetting his cheeks in a steady stream like a scared little kid.
“He wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. He’s just scared of losing you and he doesn’t really get that you’re human and much more fragile than a werewolf would be. Stop crying, you’re okay. It’s not going to happen again.”
Derek said more, explained what had happened but Jackson wasn’t listening. He zoned in on Derek’s hands touching him, stroking his legs and once or twice cupping one of his hands on the bed.
“I don’t understand.” Jackson murmured, restraining himself from slapping Derek’s hands away. “You’re talking about it like it’s not a part of you. You hurt me, you are the monster.”
Derek stopped at that, his hands hovering over Jackson’s legs and looked up at him, his eyes dark and serious. “It’s not that simple.” he said quietly.
“I don’t care.” Jackson replied. He couldn’t remember if he’d had ever been as afraid of something as he was of this man. He’d thought he’d die at the video store, had actually been convinced that the monster - werewolf - would kill him any second, only leave a few pieces to be identified by the police.
But this, sitting here with Derek Hale, terrified of turning him into a vicious killer with just the wrong word, weak and helpless while he touched him in a false pretense of comfort, made Jackson’s blood freeze in his veins.
Maybe that was what Derek meant. Jackson would die if he didn’t mate with Derek because Derek would kill him. He closed his eyes against the tears and took deep, careful breaths until the need to cry subsided and he could speak again.
“Why me? Why did you have to pick me?” Jackson shivered slightly and rubbed his own arms to get warmer. It was strange, he had felt really warm a minute ago.
“I didn’t pick you. Not consciously. The day I met you in school, I had been shot by a bullet containing wolfsbane. I was. . . out of my mind with pain. I don’t even remember talking to you. I wasn’t sure the scratches were mine until I saw you in the parking lot.”
Derek went to rummage around in Scott’s closet, pushing clothes from one side to the other before he returned with a thick, blue plaid shirt. It looked hideous, not even Scott would wear it, but it was soft and warm when Derek placed it around his shoulders and helped him push his arms into the sleeves. Jackson’s skin crawled and tingled where Derek’s fingers touched him.
“So how did you know?” Jackson asked. Let Derek believe that he was buying his story, as long as it’d buy Jackson some time in return. “That it was you who scratched me. If there are more of you out there-”
“I could feel it when I got closer to you.” Derek interrupted him and Jackson hated how he flinched back at that. “It’s hard to explain but mates share a kind of connection. A bond. They are more perceptive to each other. To feelings, thoughts, the other’s location. If we concentrate enough, I can find you wherever you are.”
Jackson blanched even further. If that was true, if Derek could find him wherever he was, he didn’t stand a chance. His shoulders slumped in defeat but then something clicked in his mind.
“Wait, thoughts? You can hear my thoughts?!”
Derek closed his eyes for a moment, like he was trying hard to stay in control. “No, I can’t hear your thoughts. I might. . . understand you better than anyone else, be more in synch with you. But I can’t hear exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Does that go one-way? Or does it work from my side too?” Jackson murmured, his mind racing, trying to bring all the new information in order and simultaneously figure out what Derek wasn’t telling him because there was clearly something missing.
“It will, once the claim is finished.” Derek nodded.
Jackson frowned as Derek just repeated his earlier words.
“What does that even mean? What do you want me to do anyway? To. . . finish the claim.” he asked, his stomach clenching painfully in anticipation. His mind helpfully supplied a variety of scenarios, each one more bloody than the last and quite a number of them staring him as a werewolf. Those didn’t look so bad, actually. At least he’d be able to defend himself.
Derek hesitated visibly, his eyes trailing over Jackson’s body where he sat huddled in Scott’s too big shirt, sick and small and scared.
When he replied, everything went quiet, like the world stopped turning for just a moment and Derek’s voice was the only thing to pierce the silence.
“It means we need to have sex.”
---
For a moment, Derek thought the boy was going to faint when he said the words, he went so pale and quiet. He longed to hug him, to pet him and tell him it was all going to be okay. He would take care of him, he wouldn’t hurt him. But that would only make it worse, make Jackson lash out at him. His heartbeat was all over the place, Jackson’s instincts reacting to the connection and telling him to feel protected by the wolf while his mind still struggled and told him to run for his life.
Derek pouncing on him like a mindless animal hadn’t helped, of course. He had to control himself better if he wanted any chance of Jackson’s consent. He didn’t know what he’d do if the boy didn’t accept the mating. There was no alternative. It was this or nothing. He couldn’t let Jackson die, couldn’t give his mate up when he’d just been marked, just been found.
“Oh my god, i-is that your M.O.?” Jackson suddenly blurted out and Derek looked up in surprise, torn out of his thoughts. “You’re some kind of fucked up serial rapist, targeting teenagers and drugging them so you can tell them insane stories about how they’ll die if you don’t fuck them so you don’t have to rape them. Shit, I need to get out of here-”
Derek took a deep, deep breath to keep his control while he easily pushed Jackson back down onto the bed with one hand, ignoring the startled gasp he earned. The ideas that Jackson came up with were. . . creative. Completely stupid, but creative.
“That’d still be rape. I’m not a criminal and no one is taking drugs here. I know what it sounds like and I’m not trying to force you into anything but we literally need to mate to complete the claim.”, Derek explained. Nothing he said seemed to be working. Derek couldn’t seem to figure out how to handle the boy, how to make him listen.
He wasn’t a people person but normally, he at least knew how to talk to them, how to make himself clear. Everything seemed so much harder with Jackson, so much more complicated.
“I- I’m not doing it. I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t care what crazy shit you come up with, I’m not doing it. ” Jackson told him shakily, his body tense under Derek’s hand until he pulled back, let him have the distance he was craving. Poor kid. He was so afraid but tried so hard to defy Derek, to not submit to him.
“I’m not a criminal.” Derek repeated as calmly as he could. “I’m not trying to trick you into something you don’t want to do. You think I want this? I don’t. You’re really not who I would have chosen for a mate but I didn’t get to choose.” He felt a pang of hurt radiating from Jackson but he continued anyway. Sugarcoating things had never gotten him anywhere. “I’m trying to save your life, believe it or not.”
Jackson was quiet for a moment, looking in the general direction of Derek’s knees and Derek wondered if the wolf had chosen him out of sheer attraction. It was unlikely, he thought, but possible. It wasn’t like there was a rulebook for werewolves, stating who to choose for a mate based on which criteria. He’d have to ask Jackson about the meeting in the hallway one day, what exactly had been said and how Jackson had behaved toward him.
“Okay, let’s assume for a moment that all of this bullshit is true. You scratched me and made me your lover or whatever and if we don’t fuck in the next few hours, I’m gonna die.”
Derek frowned at the way Jackson said it, his voice dripping with disbelief, but nodded in confirmation. Any progress was good right now.
“What happens after that? I get better and then you’ll leave me alone? Is that your plan here?” There was hope in Jackson’s eyes and so much fear that Derek was going to say no.
Derek wished he could let him go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, mates weren’t supposed to be strangers to each other and the rare cases that Derek had heard of that featured a werewolf and an underage human, they’d been under supervision of the wolf’s alpha. Protected by the pack and the mating had been careful and gentle, as easy on the human as it could be. More often than not, the human had asked to be turned to be as close to his werewolf mate as he could be. Claiming someone against that person’s will was hard on the werewolf, so it wasn’t something that was done on purpose.
This was wrong. Hurried and scary.
If Laura was still with him, she’d know what to do. She always knew, always had a plan. She saved Derek’s ass so many times when they were younger that he’d lost count. When Derek had been barely more than a pup, always jumping head first into the most dangerous situations, she’d been there, cleaning up his mess and teaching him how to do better. She’d been the best alpha he could have possibly wished for.
But she wasn’t there to help him this time and he had to do something. He’d rather have his mate alive and hating him than dead.
“Yes.” he suddenly heard himself say. “We save you and I’ll leave you alone.”
The words hit him straight in the gut the second they were out but the damage was done. He’d lied to his mate and if the mating had been complete, Jackson would have noticed but the way it was now, he was buying it, his heartbeat slowly recurring to its normal pace. His eyes were drooping too, his energy used up and drained by the claim. Derek longed to get out of the room anyway, take a breather, calm himself down and make a plan.
“Your fever has gone up again. We can talk about it more after you’ve had some sleep. You’re gonna need your strength.” he suggested softly. He needed to get some distance betwween them.
Jackson quickly shook his head. “No way, I’m not sleeping while you’re here.” he stated firmly but the tension in his jaw and his eyes tearing up told Derek that he was suppressing the need to yawn.
“You’re tired. I’ll leave the room once you’re asleep. I’ll wait in the living room downstairs and get you something to eat later..”
“I’m not stupid!” Jackson shot back, his eyes blazing angrily. “I want to go home. I can sleep there.”
He was breathtaking like that, angry and challenging. The same fire in his eyes that Derek had seen on the Lacrosse field, the same passion. Derek felt the wolf give an appreciative growl, making Derek’s hands tingle with the need to touch, to stroke and caress.
He sighed, scrambling for the last bits of patience he had. Why did the wolf have to choose this one? Jackson was so unbalanced, scared and desperate one minute, then passionate and beautiful the next.
“I can get Scott to watch you if you want. Would that be better?” he asked. It wasn’t ideal but Scott was as close to pack as he got, so it’d do. He doubted that Jackson would be able to, much less have the energy to sneak past the three of them and out of the house but he still felt very uneasy about it. Jackson seemed. . . unpredictable. And Derek didn’t actually know him that well.
Or not at all.
“I don’t need anyone to watch me!” Jackson exclaimed heatedly but failed to hide the tremor in his voice. “And I don’t want to stay here, what part of that is so hard to understand?”
“We don’t have time for this, Jackson!” Derek shot back. “Look, you’re sick and tired and you don’t trust me, I get it. But you’re my mate, I’m not going to harm you. I know you don’t understand that yet.” How could he understand, when Derek had lied to him about the most important part? “Scott and Stiles are just downstairs. Why would I do anything to you in Scott’s house?”
“Because he’s in it with you, whatever you did to get him on your side! If all you said is true, what does it matter if I go home? You can find me there-” Jackson started again, his despair plain on his face for Derek to see. Jackson wasn't someone to hide his fear, Derek realized and he couldn't help but be impressed.
“And you’re not going to call the police the second you get a chance? If I get arrested for this, you’re dead.” Derek interrupted him harshly and Jackson’s mouth snapped shut. He had tried to make the boy understand through gentleness and comfort but obviously he didn’t respond to that very well, so Derek would try a firmer approach. “I know this is all hard to understand and you don’t believe a word I say but you need to and you will, once your body starts to shut down. For now, you have exactly two choices. Either you go to sleep here like a good little mate and I get Scott to watch you or I take you to my house and you sleep there under my watch. We can argue about this until you faint from exhaustion, I don’t care. What’s it gonna be?”
The muscles in Jackson’s jaw worked furiously for a moment, ready to turn this into a full screaming match but finally he nodded, a shadow passing his eyes.“I’ll sleep here. But Scott can stay outside. I’m not a kid.”
He really was, Derek thought, but he wasn’t about to start another argument. He nodded his consent and waited another few minutes until Jackson had tucked himself back into bed - shooting down every attempt to help him with a glare and some more bitching - before he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. He was able to hear Jackson breathing through the entire house, could monitor his heartbeat like a heart monitor but Jackson didn’t need to know that yet.
“Hey. How is he?” Scott asked when Derek stepped into the kitchen. Stiles mumbled something while munching on a huge sandwich, seemingly consisting of at least three different kinds of cheese and as much ham as he could possibly fit on it, but Derek didn’t bother trying to decipher his words.
“He’s getting worse. I might be wrong about the 24 hours. And he doesn’t believe a word I say, except for us being werewolves.”
Stiles nodded pensively, washing the sandwich down with a big gulp of cola. “It did sound kinda crazy when you told us.” Derek glared at him but Stiles ignored it. “I mean, I believe it because the craziest stuff always turns out to be true lately but Jackson is new to this. And you should probably stop being so scary, that’d help too.”
“Anyway,” Scott quickly interjected before Derek could reply. “What are you going to do?”
Derek could hear the rustling sound of Jackson tossing around from upstairs but his breathing didn’t change and he didn’t leave the bed. Still, he’d go check on him in a bit, just to make sure.
“I’ll wait until he’s had some rest, then I’ll take him to my house.” he replied absently, glancing at the ceiling.
“And when you get there?” Stiles asked curiously. “What do you have to do to cure him? You don’t have to, like, drink his blood or something, right?”
Sometimes Derek wished Stiles had an off-switch. Or a permanent shut down.
“No.” he replied tensely. “Stop watching so much TV.”
“And stay away from the Internet.” Scott added, as if he had a clue of what was going on. Stiles replied something, probably just as geeky and stupid but Derek stopped listening when a car pulled up in front of the house.
“Your mom is home.” he interjected. “I’ll get Jackson.” It was best to leave now, he thought, before Mrs McCall noticed that something was going on. The last thing he needed was more question or even a call to the sheriff. It was getting late, Jackson’s parents might even be looking for him by now. He’d have to make the boy call them as soon as he woke up, use the universal excuse of staying at a friend’s house for the night.
“No, wait.” Scott held up a hand. “She won’t go in my room while I’m down here anyway. Let him rest a little longer, he. . . really didn’t look so good.”
A key turned in the lock, then the front door opened and revealed Scott’s mom, her arms fully loaded with grocery bags, her purse and what looked like a spare nurse’s uniform.
“A little help here, boys?” she asked tiredly when she saw them and Scott jumped up to take the grocery bags before everything tumbled to the floor.
There was a whooshing sound from upstairs, then a quiet squeak but Derek couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He really had to go check on Jackson now.
“Hey mom. That’s my friend Derek.” Scott pointed in the vague direction of the living room before carrying everything into the kitchen and Derek stopped mid-motion when Mrs McCall smiled at him.
“Nice to meet you, Derek. You’re. . . probably not a friend from school, right?” she asked, her smile a little too tense. He was never mistaken for a high school student anymore.
“No.” Derek answered, not even trying to offer an alternative. He didn’t care what Scott’s mother thought of him as long as she didn’t notice the dying kid in Scott’s bedroom. “I was just leaving.”
There was another thump from upstairs, too quiet to be heard by human hearing but crystal clear to Derek and it made him more nervous than he wanted to admit.
“Oh, you should stay for dinner. Stiles always does.” she offered, sending a fake smile in Stiles’ direction, earning a smug grin in return. They seemed very familiar with each other. “Maybe you can even help clean up after. Stiles never does.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped and Derek couldn’t help but like her.
“No, really, I’m . . . expected somewhere else for dinner. Maybe another time.” he said over Stiles’ protest and easily evaded a flailing hand that would have hit his face.
“Are you sure? You could-. . .”
Another thump, a rustle, then silence. Maybe Jackson couldn’t fall asleep but it seemed like he’d settled down again.
“But I help all the time!” Stiles protested at that moment. “I practically do Scott’s chores for him-”
“You do what now?” Scott stared at his friend in amused disbelief, unerringly picking a chocolate bar from one of the grocery bags.
Mrs McCall crossed her arms in front of her chest. Apparently, she wasn’t one to be messed with.
“Oh, is that so? Then why-...”
Wait.
No sound from upstairs. Silence. No breathing.
Derek’s stomach clenched with dread. There were exactly two possible explanations for this and both almost made him shift in horror. Either Jackson had climbed out of the window - or rather jumped, judging from the lack of scrambling sound on the roof - or Derek had been wrong about how much time they had left. It was possible, he wasn’t an expert because there were no damn experts for this-
“I have to go-”
He was out the door and around the house in seconds, using the momentum of his run to jump onto the roof, finding the right window easily because it was the only one wide open.
Scott’s room was undisturbed except for the tangled blanket on the floor, his jacket and shoes gone and Jackson nowhere in sight.
He should have known. He shouldn’t have let him out of his sight, not even for a second. He had failed to keep his mate safe and close and now he was running from Derek, sick and terrified, with the sun setting, an alpha on the loose and hunters watching their every step, just waiting for someone like Jackson to fall into their hands.
Next
A/N: Yes, I do believe that Jackson would be able to climb out of the window like this but there's more explanation to come on how he disappeared that fast. Bear with me, okay?
Rating: NC-17 for the whole story
Pairing: Derek/Jackson
Spoilers: Season 1
Warnings: Slash, possible Canon-timeline mistakes. Not beta'd.
Word Count: 4047 words in this part
Disclaimer: Oh, how I wish they were mine. But nothing here belongs to me, except for the plot.
Summary: He'd have to go and take a look at those marks, make sure he was just worrying too much and he hadn't done anything stupid that he couldn't remember.
Author's Notes: Good old Fuck-or-Die. Written for a prompt at TeenwolfKink. I didn't want to post this until it's finished but I couldn't resist. Goes AU from "Heart Monitor" and the Derek/Jackson locker room scene in "The Tell" didn't happen.
“Jackson, you-” Derek started again but Jackson didn’t let him finish.
“No, stop it! I’m not listening to your insane story anymore. You’re a- a werewolf, good for you, but you didn’t- what did you call it? - claim me and I. Am. Not. Dying. I don’t want to be your mate! Go pester someone else if you like it so much but let me go home!” His voice continually rose until he yelled the last part right in Derek’s face and that had just been blatantly stupid. You didn’t yell at your insane kidnapper, werewolf or no. Jackson watched TV, he knew that.
The bright, blue flash of Derek’s eyes was the only warning he got before he was thrown back on the bed and Derek was above him, pushing his shoulders into the mattress. Jackson stared in horror as his teeth elongated into sharp fangs and his face changed like Scott’s had before he squeezed his eyes shut against the sight, breathing against the stinging pain from Derek’s claws on his shoulders, tearing jagged holes into his shirt.
He was going to die. Ripped apart, just like that.
The monster growled, deep and angry, and Jackson didn’t dare to move a muscle or call for help, just waited for the inevitable bite. If he just relaxed, maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much, probably be over really quickly but his body wouldn’t obey him.
“Oh god, don’t, please. I don’t want to be your mate but don’t kill me..” he whimpered, turning his face to the side, unconsciously baring his throat in a submissive gesture. His eyes filled with tears until they finally overflowed and rolled down his cheeks. “Please, just. . . take someone else. .”
The wolf gave another growl at that and pressed him harder into the mattress, roughly pushing his knees apart to kneel between them until their hips were aligned and Jackson’s eyes flew wide open.
Oh god, was that...?
He flinched when something tickled his neck, warm and slightly rough and oh, that was Derek’s tongue. He was licking Jackson’s skin, tasting him like he was an especially delicious treat, now making low, content sounds in his throat that made Jackson’s stomach tingle.
Maybe Derek would go for his neck, tear his throat out, or his spine, like he’d threatened Scott and Stiles, so it’d be over fast. Jackson prayed that werewolves didn’t like to play with their food before they ate it.
A sob wrenched out of his throat, barely restraint and pathetic because he was sure it’d hurt, at least the very first bite but the next thing he knew, Derek was off him and pulling him up into a sitting position, looking human and guilty and worried.
“It’s okay, Jackson, you’re okay, breathe. I couldn’t control it, I’m sorry-”
He wasn’t okay, he was so very far from okay. Jackson was desperately pulling air into his lungs, his chest heaving up and down but it was like there wasn’t any oxygen at all.
“You can’t say things like that. If you openly reject me as a mate, the wolf reacts to it-”
Derek slowly rubbed up and down his thighs, soothing and comforting and his rapid breathing slowed down until it was almost bearable but the tears just wouldn’t stop, wetting his cheeks in a steady stream like a scared little kid.
“He wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear. He’s just scared of losing you and he doesn’t really get that you’re human and much more fragile than a werewolf would be. Stop crying, you’re okay. It’s not going to happen again.”
Derek said more, explained what had happened but Jackson wasn’t listening. He zoned in on Derek’s hands touching him, stroking his legs and once or twice cupping one of his hands on the bed.
“I don’t understand.” Jackson murmured, restraining himself from slapping Derek’s hands away. “You’re talking about it like it’s not a part of you. You hurt me, you are the monster.”
Derek stopped at that, his hands hovering over Jackson’s legs and looked up at him, his eyes dark and serious. “It’s not that simple.” he said quietly.
“I don’t care.” Jackson replied. He couldn’t remember if he’d had ever been as afraid of something as he was of this man. He’d thought he’d die at the video store, had actually been convinced that the monster - werewolf - would kill him any second, only leave a few pieces to be identified by the police.
But this, sitting here with Derek Hale, terrified of turning him into a vicious killer with just the wrong word, weak and helpless while he touched him in a false pretense of comfort, made Jackson’s blood freeze in his veins.
Maybe that was what Derek meant. Jackson would die if he didn’t mate with Derek because Derek would kill him. He closed his eyes against the tears and took deep, careful breaths until the need to cry subsided and he could speak again.
“Why me? Why did you have to pick me?” Jackson shivered slightly and rubbed his own arms to get warmer. It was strange, he had felt really warm a minute ago.
“I didn’t pick you. Not consciously. The day I met you in school, I had been shot by a bullet containing wolfsbane. I was. . . out of my mind with pain. I don’t even remember talking to you. I wasn’t sure the scratches were mine until I saw you in the parking lot.”
Derek went to rummage around in Scott’s closet, pushing clothes from one side to the other before he returned with a thick, blue plaid shirt. It looked hideous, not even Scott would wear it, but it was soft and warm when Derek placed it around his shoulders and helped him push his arms into the sleeves. Jackson’s skin crawled and tingled where Derek’s fingers touched him.
“So how did you know?” Jackson asked. Let Derek believe that he was buying his story, as long as it’d buy Jackson some time in return. “That it was you who scratched me. If there are more of you out there-”
“I could feel it when I got closer to you.” Derek interrupted him and Jackson hated how he flinched back at that. “It’s hard to explain but mates share a kind of connection. A bond. They are more perceptive to each other. To feelings, thoughts, the other’s location. If we concentrate enough, I can find you wherever you are.”
Jackson blanched even further. If that was true, if Derek could find him wherever he was, he didn’t stand a chance. His shoulders slumped in defeat but then something clicked in his mind.
“Wait, thoughts? You can hear my thoughts?!”
Derek closed his eyes for a moment, like he was trying hard to stay in control. “No, I can’t hear your thoughts. I might. . . understand you better than anyone else, be more in synch with you. But I can’t hear exactly what you’re thinking.”
“Does that go one-way? Or does it work from my side too?” Jackson murmured, his mind racing, trying to bring all the new information in order and simultaneously figure out what Derek wasn’t telling him because there was clearly something missing.
“It will, once the claim is finished.” Derek nodded.
Jackson frowned as Derek just repeated his earlier words.
“What does that even mean? What do you want me to do anyway? To. . . finish the claim.” he asked, his stomach clenching painfully in anticipation. His mind helpfully supplied a variety of scenarios, each one more bloody than the last and quite a number of them staring him as a werewolf. Those didn’t look so bad, actually. At least he’d be able to defend himself.
Derek hesitated visibly, his eyes trailing over Jackson’s body where he sat huddled in Scott’s too big shirt, sick and small and scared.
When he replied, everything went quiet, like the world stopped turning for just a moment and Derek’s voice was the only thing to pierce the silence.
“It means we need to have sex.”
---
For a moment, Derek thought the boy was going to faint when he said the words, he went so pale and quiet. He longed to hug him, to pet him and tell him it was all going to be okay. He would take care of him, he wouldn’t hurt him. But that would only make it worse, make Jackson lash out at him. His heartbeat was all over the place, Jackson’s instincts reacting to the connection and telling him to feel protected by the wolf while his mind still struggled and told him to run for his life.
Derek pouncing on him like a mindless animal hadn’t helped, of course. He had to control himself better if he wanted any chance of Jackson’s consent. He didn’t know what he’d do if the boy didn’t accept the mating. There was no alternative. It was this or nothing. He couldn’t let Jackson die, couldn’t give his mate up when he’d just been marked, just been found.
“Oh my god, i-is that your M.O.?” Jackson suddenly blurted out and Derek looked up in surprise, torn out of his thoughts. “You’re some kind of fucked up serial rapist, targeting teenagers and drugging them so you can tell them insane stories about how they’ll die if you don’t fuck them so you don’t have to rape them. Shit, I need to get out of here-”
Derek took a deep, deep breath to keep his control while he easily pushed Jackson back down onto the bed with one hand, ignoring the startled gasp he earned. The ideas that Jackson came up with were. . . creative. Completely stupid, but creative.
“That’d still be rape. I’m not a criminal and no one is taking drugs here. I know what it sounds like and I’m not trying to force you into anything but we literally need to mate to complete the claim.”, Derek explained. Nothing he said seemed to be working. Derek couldn’t seem to figure out how to handle the boy, how to make him listen.
He wasn’t a people person but normally, he at least knew how to talk to them, how to make himself clear. Everything seemed so much harder with Jackson, so much more complicated.
“I- I’m not doing it. I’m not going to have sex with you. I don’t care what crazy shit you come up with, I’m not doing it. ” Jackson told him shakily, his body tense under Derek’s hand until he pulled back, let him have the distance he was craving. Poor kid. He was so afraid but tried so hard to defy Derek, to not submit to him.
“I’m not a criminal.” Derek repeated as calmly as he could. “I’m not trying to trick you into something you don’t want to do. You think I want this? I don’t. You’re really not who I would have chosen for a mate but I didn’t get to choose.” He felt a pang of hurt radiating from Jackson but he continued anyway. Sugarcoating things had never gotten him anywhere. “I’m trying to save your life, believe it or not.”
Jackson was quiet for a moment, looking in the general direction of Derek’s knees and Derek wondered if the wolf had chosen him out of sheer attraction. It was unlikely, he thought, but possible. It wasn’t like there was a rulebook for werewolves, stating who to choose for a mate based on which criteria. He’d have to ask Jackson about the meeting in the hallway one day, what exactly had been said and how Jackson had behaved toward him.
“Okay, let’s assume for a moment that all of this bullshit is true. You scratched me and made me your lover or whatever and if we don’t fuck in the next few hours, I’m gonna die.”
Derek frowned at the way Jackson said it, his voice dripping with disbelief, but nodded in confirmation. Any progress was good right now.
“What happens after that? I get better and then you’ll leave me alone? Is that your plan here?” There was hope in Jackson’s eyes and so much fear that Derek was going to say no.
Derek wished he could let him go. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, mates weren’t supposed to be strangers to each other and the rare cases that Derek had heard of that featured a werewolf and an underage human, they’d been under supervision of the wolf’s alpha. Protected by the pack and the mating had been careful and gentle, as easy on the human as it could be. More often than not, the human had asked to be turned to be as close to his werewolf mate as he could be. Claiming someone against that person’s will was hard on the werewolf, so it wasn’t something that was done on purpose.
This was wrong. Hurried and scary.
If Laura was still with him, she’d know what to do. She always knew, always had a plan. She saved Derek’s ass so many times when they were younger that he’d lost count. When Derek had been barely more than a pup, always jumping head first into the most dangerous situations, she’d been there, cleaning up his mess and teaching him how to do better. She’d been the best alpha he could have possibly wished for.
But she wasn’t there to help him this time and he had to do something. He’d rather have his mate alive and hating him than dead.
“Yes.” he suddenly heard himself say. “We save you and I’ll leave you alone.”
The words hit him straight in the gut the second they were out but the damage was done. He’d lied to his mate and if the mating had been complete, Jackson would have noticed but the way it was now, he was buying it, his heartbeat slowly recurring to its normal pace. His eyes were drooping too, his energy used up and drained by the claim. Derek longed to get out of the room anyway, take a breather, calm himself down and make a plan.
“Your fever has gone up again. We can talk about it more after you’ve had some sleep. You’re gonna need your strength.” he suggested softly. He needed to get some distance betwween them.
Jackson quickly shook his head. “No way, I’m not sleeping while you’re here.” he stated firmly but the tension in his jaw and his eyes tearing up told Derek that he was suppressing the need to yawn.
“You’re tired. I’ll leave the room once you’re asleep. I’ll wait in the living room downstairs and get you something to eat later..”
“I’m not stupid!” Jackson shot back, his eyes blazing angrily. “I want to go home. I can sleep there.”
He was breathtaking like that, angry and challenging. The same fire in his eyes that Derek had seen on the Lacrosse field, the same passion. Derek felt the wolf give an appreciative growl, making Derek’s hands tingle with the need to touch, to stroke and caress.
He sighed, scrambling for the last bits of patience he had. Why did the wolf have to choose this one? Jackson was so unbalanced, scared and desperate one minute, then passionate and beautiful the next.
“I can get Scott to watch you if you want. Would that be better?” he asked. It wasn’t ideal but Scott was as close to pack as he got, so it’d do. He doubted that Jackson would be able to, much less have the energy to sneak past the three of them and out of the house but he still felt very uneasy about it. Jackson seemed. . . unpredictable. And Derek didn’t actually know him that well.
Or not at all.
“I don’t need anyone to watch me!” Jackson exclaimed heatedly but failed to hide the tremor in his voice. “And I don’t want to stay here, what part of that is so hard to understand?”
“We don’t have time for this, Jackson!” Derek shot back. “Look, you’re sick and tired and you don’t trust me, I get it. But you’re my mate, I’m not going to harm you. I know you don’t understand that yet.” How could he understand, when Derek had lied to him about the most important part? “Scott and Stiles are just downstairs. Why would I do anything to you in Scott’s house?”
“Because he’s in it with you, whatever you did to get him on your side! If all you said is true, what does it matter if I go home? You can find me there-” Jackson started again, his despair plain on his face for Derek to see. Jackson wasn't someone to hide his fear, Derek realized and he couldn't help but be impressed.
“And you’re not going to call the police the second you get a chance? If I get arrested for this, you’re dead.” Derek interrupted him harshly and Jackson’s mouth snapped shut. He had tried to make the boy understand through gentleness and comfort but obviously he didn’t respond to that very well, so Derek would try a firmer approach. “I know this is all hard to understand and you don’t believe a word I say but you need to and you will, once your body starts to shut down. For now, you have exactly two choices. Either you go to sleep here like a good little mate and I get Scott to watch you or I take you to my house and you sleep there under my watch. We can argue about this until you faint from exhaustion, I don’t care. What’s it gonna be?”
The muscles in Jackson’s jaw worked furiously for a moment, ready to turn this into a full screaming match but finally he nodded, a shadow passing his eyes.“I’ll sleep here. But Scott can stay outside. I’m not a kid.”
He really was, Derek thought, but he wasn’t about to start another argument. He nodded his consent and waited another few minutes until Jackson had tucked himself back into bed - shooting down every attempt to help him with a glare and some more bitching - before he left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him. He was able to hear Jackson breathing through the entire house, could monitor his heartbeat like a heart monitor but Jackson didn’t need to know that yet.
“Hey. How is he?” Scott asked when Derek stepped into the kitchen. Stiles mumbled something while munching on a huge sandwich, seemingly consisting of at least three different kinds of cheese and as much ham as he could possibly fit on it, but Derek didn’t bother trying to decipher his words.
“He’s getting worse. I might be wrong about the 24 hours. And he doesn’t believe a word I say, except for us being werewolves.”
Stiles nodded pensively, washing the sandwich down with a big gulp of cola. “It did sound kinda crazy when you told us.” Derek glared at him but Stiles ignored it. “I mean, I believe it because the craziest stuff always turns out to be true lately but Jackson is new to this. And you should probably stop being so scary, that’d help too.”
“Anyway,” Scott quickly interjected before Derek could reply. “What are you going to do?”
Derek could hear the rustling sound of Jackson tossing around from upstairs but his breathing didn’t change and he didn’t leave the bed. Still, he’d go check on him in a bit, just to make sure.
“I’ll wait until he’s had some rest, then I’ll take him to my house.” he replied absently, glancing at the ceiling.
“And when you get there?” Stiles asked curiously. “What do you have to do to cure him? You don’t have to, like, drink his blood or something, right?”
Sometimes Derek wished Stiles had an off-switch. Or a permanent shut down.
“No.” he replied tensely. “Stop watching so much TV.”
“And stay away from the Internet.” Scott added, as if he had a clue of what was going on. Stiles replied something, probably just as geeky and stupid but Derek stopped listening when a car pulled up in front of the house.
“Your mom is home.” he interjected. “I’ll get Jackson.” It was best to leave now, he thought, before Mrs McCall noticed that something was going on. The last thing he needed was more question or even a call to the sheriff. It was getting late, Jackson’s parents might even be looking for him by now. He’d have to make the boy call them as soon as he woke up, use the universal excuse of staying at a friend’s house for the night.
“No, wait.” Scott held up a hand. “She won’t go in my room while I’m down here anyway. Let him rest a little longer, he. . . really didn’t look so good.”
A key turned in the lock, then the front door opened and revealed Scott’s mom, her arms fully loaded with grocery bags, her purse and what looked like a spare nurse’s uniform.
“A little help here, boys?” she asked tiredly when she saw them and Scott jumped up to take the grocery bags before everything tumbled to the floor.
There was a whooshing sound from upstairs, then a quiet squeak but Derek couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He really had to go check on Jackson now.
“Hey mom. That’s my friend Derek.” Scott pointed in the vague direction of the living room before carrying everything into the kitchen and Derek stopped mid-motion when Mrs McCall smiled at him.
“Nice to meet you, Derek. You’re. . . probably not a friend from school, right?” she asked, her smile a little too tense. He was never mistaken for a high school student anymore.
“No.” Derek answered, not even trying to offer an alternative. He didn’t care what Scott’s mother thought of him as long as she didn’t notice the dying kid in Scott’s bedroom. “I was just leaving.”
There was another thump from upstairs, too quiet to be heard by human hearing but crystal clear to Derek and it made him more nervous than he wanted to admit.
“Oh, you should stay for dinner. Stiles always does.” she offered, sending a fake smile in Stiles’ direction, earning a smug grin in return. They seemed very familiar with each other. “Maybe you can even help clean up after. Stiles never does.”
Stiles’ jaw dropped and Derek couldn’t help but like her.
“No, really, I’m . . . expected somewhere else for dinner. Maybe another time.” he said over Stiles’ protest and easily evaded a flailing hand that would have hit his face.
“Are you sure? You could-. . .”
Another thump, a rustle, then silence. Maybe Jackson couldn’t fall asleep but it seemed like he’d settled down again.
“But I help all the time!” Stiles protested at that moment. “I practically do Scott’s chores for him-”
“You do what now?” Scott stared at his friend in amused disbelief, unerringly picking a chocolate bar from one of the grocery bags.
Mrs McCall crossed her arms in front of her chest. Apparently, she wasn’t one to be messed with.
“Oh, is that so? Then why-...”
Wait.
No sound from upstairs. Silence. No breathing.
Derek’s stomach clenched with dread. There were exactly two possible explanations for this and both almost made him shift in horror. Either Jackson had climbed out of the window - or rather jumped, judging from the lack of scrambling sound on the roof - or Derek had been wrong about how much time they had left. It was possible, he wasn’t an expert because there were no damn experts for this-
“I have to go-”
He was out the door and around the house in seconds, using the momentum of his run to jump onto the roof, finding the right window easily because it was the only one wide open.
Scott’s room was undisturbed except for the tangled blanket on the floor, his jacket and shoes gone and Jackson nowhere in sight.
He should have known. He shouldn’t have let him out of his sight, not even for a second. He had failed to keep his mate safe and close and now he was running from Derek, sick and terrified, with the sun setting, an alpha on the loose and hunters watching their every step, just waiting for someone like Jackson to fall into their hands.
Next
A/N: Yes, I do believe that Jackson would be able to climb out of the window like this but there's more explanation to come on how he disappeared that fast. Bear with me, okay?