Synopsis: Jackson is back in town but nothing is as it was.

Warnings: Swearing, if you're fussy about that thing.

A/N: Yaaaaaay first teen wolf fic ;D I've wanted to write one of these for ages but never quite got around to it but I intend to write more and have a multichapter fic in the planning.

Disclaimer: Me own teen wolf? Pfffttt!

Thanks to tumblr user (and best friend of mine) oursacredsouls for helping me find the correct insult to finish the title with and reading it before anyone else. :)

Welcome to The Prodigal Jerk.

The Prodigal Jerk

The day Jackson cruised his Lamborghini back into town there was a funeral. For a moment as he drove by his heart clenched and he had the terrifying feeling that it was Lydia resting in a coffin. But then he spotted her dabbing smeared makeup next to a rigid, numb Scott and pale Stiles. He also saw Mr Argent and knew it was Allison who'd croaked, as only an event such as this could keep hunter and werewolf civil. Briefly he considered crashing but he didn't feel vindictive enough to metaphorically crap on each and every one of the people who were in attendance, nor did he hate Allison enough to ruin her memory. No, he drove by and allowed them to wallow in their grievance. He didn't however miss, Scott raising his head to stare eerily at him.

What a weirdo. Geez.

He pointedly looked away, accelerating sharply around the corner before he remembered that he and Scott were on the same page now – both beta werewolves under Derek Hale. Meh, he'd put Scott in his place when he next saw him.

As he powered down the empty streets Jackson considered the event he'd just passed. So Allison was dead… Damn. He wasn't quite sure what the –sort-of-ex-girlfriend-hunter-sometimes-bitchy girl meant to him, had meantto him – he'd mostly just used her to get at Scott and he was fairly sure she'd been with him for exactly the same reason. Yeah, crap she had got herself killed but he wasn't going to lose it like Scott appeared to have.

He abruptly braked the car, dislodging his thoughts. His old house lay before him; his adoptive parents hadn't sold it yet. He decided he would go and a find Derek tomorrow after a night's sleep, once he'd dealt with this house full of memories.

The morning heralded absolutely nothing useful. He'd wandered around the woods for a good several hours confused as to why the Hale house was a building site and unable to track because of the sheer amount of familiar and unfamiliar scents in the woods.

All he could smell is stupid freaking Scott McCall, everywhere. It was like during the full moon the beta had run around rubbing himself on every single tree he could find and peeing in every bush. Perhaps it was because he was way too familiar with the scent; when Derek had given him the crash course in being a werewolf they used Scott's scent (which Derek agreed was all over the woods) to learn tracking.

Nevertheless he didn't need to track to work out where the werewolf was. He found the beta leaving school with a fairly attractive oriental girl whom he'd been comfortably holding hands with.

Jackson prepared his typical greeting.

"Over Allison already?" Scott turned around stiffly at his voice, an expression that resembled being slapped decorating his features. The girl he'd been holding hands with gaped; and Jackson found a feeling of victory.

"What do you want Jackson?" Scott sounded, and looked, weary; possibly because his first girlfriend had recently died but the ex-kanima thought it went deeper.

That didn't mean he cared. "I'm looking for Derek."

"His loft's on Fourth Street, why are you looking for him?" His tone was more firm than curious meaning he expected Jackson to answer, it surprised the beta that Scott had grown a spine – he'd thought McCall would be a loser until the end of eternity.

"He's the alpha." He raised his eyebrows in an expression that clearly said 'duh'.

The girl on Scott's arm frowned at him and then at her boyfriend. Perhaps she wasn't in on the secret. Meh. She would be pretty quick or McCall would be very single, very soon. Scott didn't seem unduly worried by this however, his lips twitched, in almost a smile, as he spoke. "It's the only house on the block."

Jackson didn't bother for manners and simply busted into the loft without invitation, startling Derek slightly.

The alpha looked different to before but to be honest – it was something Jackson had expected. With everyone else in the core werewolf circle changing it was a given that their leader would also differ.

"Jackson." He acknowledged. "Any reason for rudely barging in?"

The werewolf in question smirked. "You're an alpha, I need a pack and I want to put McCall in his place."

Derek considered him for a second before he frowned. "I'm not the alpha."

Jackson scowled. "You're not the alpha." No wonder McCall had looked so damn smug.

"No." Derek gave him a searching look, most likely in response to his distinctly pissed-off expression. "Did Scott send you here?"

The question was ignored and another was fired back in its place. "Does Scott know who the alpha is?"

This time Derek smirked. "I should hope so."

Jackson did not bother asking him to illuminate, preferring to turn on his heel and walk straight back out. There was some dumb joke going on between the Beacon Hills pack and he was sick of not being in on it.

After successfully tracking he found five of them in the woods.

They looked beaten to a pulp, metaphorically anyhow.

As he hadn't announced his presence he could see all of them clearly. Scott did not have the same guarded look he'd had when facing down Jackson and he looked pained. The memory of Allison's death lingering in miserable flecks in eyes that never ceased to contain hope. He and Stilinski were looking at each other.

God Stilinski looked like crap.

His skin clung to his cheekbones gauntly and the bags beneath his eyes were purple. His eyes had changed as well. They looked at Scott with a pain but not sadness.

Guilt.

And Scott looked back with the faintest trace of fear.

What the fuck was going on? And what the fuck was he doing?

He stormed into their clearing, deciding he was not going to be a creeper like McCall. "So where's the alpha?"

"Jackson!" Everyone spun to look at him. Lydia being the one to snap his name. She didn't look happy to see him. Stiles snorted.

"Lydia." He nodded. She still didn't look happy.

She pursed her lips. "When you crawl to me apologising we can reacquaint." She'd changed as well. Tougher, and apparently not ready for any of his shit. She promptly turned and headed straight out of the woods.

He felt rather offended.

A girl whom he suddenly realised with holding Stilinski intimately looked him up and down and looked at Lydia's retreating form. She was pretty hot. She looked at Stiles. "Do I even want to know him?"

The hyperactive, haunted looking teen shook his head. "Nope."

"Let's go then."

Jackson caught Scott's look of horror as they left, his girlfriend also deciding not to say and talk.

"Stilinski got a girlfriend?" He almost cackled, Stiles was even more of a loser than Scott, "how the hell did that happen?"

"When you left." Well someone had jokes today.

"So…" Jackson gave the Scott the dirtiest look he could summon. "Where's the alpha?"

Scott looked like he was going to start giggling. He opened his mouth, probably to say something that would seriously piss Jackson off but before he could there was a howl.

On instinct he and Scott both morphed in fangs, claws and eyes. He caught a look at Scott's irises.

They'd turned blood red.

"Oh crap." He breathed.

So that's that :3

I really wanted Colton Haynes to return to teen wolf but he unfortunately didn't and this had been floating around my computer for god knows how long.

Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review if you did ;3