Stiles staggered backwards, he never understood how he got himself into these horrible situations. Gerard looked at him, eyes wide with shock, mouth gaping open with unvoiced pain and horror. Stiles looked down at his hands and the slick red blood that covered them. Gerard looked at his chest and the knife that was sunk deep into it. It was almost comical, ironic, he had planned on killing the boy with the knife, they had struggled and Gerard had dropped the knife, which the boy quickly snatched off the ground. Gerard pounced then, ready to fight the knife out of the boys grasp and instead had firmly impaled himself onto it, he had killed himself and now he would never get to see Derek's face as he split him in half. Gerard fell.
Stiles walked backwards and fell hard on his ass, scuttled quickly away from Gerard's corpse. The pack had made their way underground deep into the sewers when Stiles went missing. They figured out that not only was Jackson still the kanima, he was being used by Gerard to kill who ever he saw fit. With Gerard as his master the kanima was more powerful than ever before, he feared nothing, and plunged into battle with snarling uncontrolled rage. Gerard's plan had been to force Derek to his knees and choose, Stiles' life for his own, Gerard knew that the wolf would give up his own life before sacrificing the boys. The kanima had lured them all into one room where it proceeded to paralyze them, easily. Gerard had the knife and a sword, he never planned on the boy slipping out of his restraints and attacking him, Gerard's greatest mistake was underestimating Stiles.
"Scott," Stiles yelled, leaned over Scott's paralyzed body and hoped the venom would wear off quickly. Then he heard it, the low hiss that slithered out of scaled lips. There stood the kanima, tall and powerful, yellow eyes paralyzing Stiles with fear, all reptilian force and power. It clicked closer to Stiles, who held his hand out in fear, sure that he was about to die a brutally painful death. Stiles heard as the paralyzed pack tried to force their bodies up, incapable of doing anything other than watch as the kanima slowly moved closer and closer to Stiles. The creature stopped in front of the hand, stood close to the ground before bringing its own clawed appendage up. The kanima pressed its hand firmly against Stiles' who felt an electric surge shot up his arm and into his brain and there, in his mind, he felt the kanima, felt Jackson beneath that, afraid and alone. He staggered back and the kanima waited.
"Jackson…"asked Stiles and watched as the scales slowly faded away and left behind a naked Jackson, who just stood there and stared at Stiles. Everyone waited, the pack paralyzed on the floor, and Stiles, who tried hard to not look at naked Jackson. No one moved, literally, until the paralytic finally wore off. The pack circled Jackson and waited for him to do something, anything, he didn't, he barely even blinked. Stiles stood around and watched as the pack prodded and pocked the naked Jackson and wondered what was wrong with him. Stiles laid his head in his hands and was nauseated when he realized they were still covered in blood. He grit his teeth against the rolling in his stomach and took deep gulps of air. Jackson finally moved, terrified the pack, as he left the room. He returned not much later and kneeled in front of Stiles, took his hands into his own and wiped them clean, until all traces of the blood were gone, he did the same to Stiles face and smiled up at the boy.
Stiles had felt the strange tingle in the back of his head as he wished the blood away, now he was feeling the kanima and underneath that Jackson, both were waiting for his praise or his punishment, both were waiting for him to give commands, ready to serve and Stiles realized that he was the kanima's new master, and again he wondered how he got himself into these situations.
A month later and things had finally settled down into what someone might call normal, not Stiles though, he would say his life was fucked beyond reason. The strangest thing was having Jackson hover near him, all fucking day. At school, at home, and even when he slept Jackson was there. Stiles had relinquished most of his control over the kanima, while still remaining its master, in hopes of giving Jackson a normal-ish life. He also hoped that doing so would finally get Jackson to leave him the fuck alone since the kanima seemed to always want to be near its master. He was wrong, Jackson didn't leave, he was still himself, his old asshole-dickish-narcissistic-angry-beautiful self but now he was Stiles'…friend? Stiles got to sit next to Jackson, received training in lacrosse from Jackson, and even hung out with Jackson and Danny, much to the other boys surprise and suspicion.
Stiles had to be careful what he thought, wished, because if he did Jackson would disappear and come back with whatever he wanted. If in the middle of class he realized he wanted a cheeseburger, Jackson would stand up and leave class and return with said burger. Stiles thought that having released most of his control on the kanima it would stop doing what he wanted, it didn't, he didn't, Jackson didn't. Now, Stiles was sitting next to Jackson, Danny on the other side, they were all at Jackson's house playing video games, Street Fighter. Stiles was babbling about the history of Poison, the transgender character, and how her being a man to women transgender was censored in its original release in America. Danny kept giving him looks, especially since Jackson actually listened to what he was saying. It was strange, people who hung around him learned to ignore him, or at least tune him out, Jackson seemed to place extra close attention to everything he said. Stiles wished that Jackson would just act like his fucking self and instantly regretted thinking that. Jackson's face fell, took on a lost and profoundly hurt look that Stiles had never seen before, it only lasted for a second, but Stiles had seen. Stiles left later that day and ignored the tap in his mind from the kanima, asking him for orders, for attention, for touch, ignored the way Jackson's mind seemed to seal itself off from him, leaving Stiles alone with the creature.
Jackson fucking hated his life. He hated Matt for making him feel as if what they were doing was righteous, for making him feel as if someone finally understood him, but mostly for being weak enough to die on him when he finally thought he had found someone who appreciated him, cared for him…maybe even loved him.
Jackson hated Gerard for torturing him, for forcing him to do things he didn't want, for making him lose his mind with visions so horrific he no longer knew what reality was, and nothing in his life had felt as good as his death had. He still thought back to it, the invasive force in his mind as it slowly faded out of existence and the sick pleasure he took in knowing that the old fucker was dead. Jackson would never forget Gerard, he still bore deep scars in his back from were Gerard had forced his control onto Jackson, carved it into his flesh until Jackson couldn't take the pain and begged. The kanima was the slave, not Jackson, not when he could wrestle control back from that creature and being reduced to begging had been the worst experience of his life, being forced to do things fully aware of what he was doing. He was just tired of being scared…of being alone.
Jackson had thought that having Stiles as his master would be different. The presence in his mind was different, it was peaceful, it was pure, almost friendly. But Stiles was just like the others, all he wanted was for Jackson to do what he said. Jackson didn't understand why Stiles hated him, why Stiles couldn't even bother to be his master, even went so far as releasing most of his control over him. Jackson had tried to make Stiles like him, he was nice to him, he'd protected him at school from the other students, even from Derek when he was too rough with him. He did it because he couldn't take someone else using him to fulfill their own wishes, using him against his will and force him to do unnatural horrible things, things that still haunted him at night as he slept. He wished and hoped that Stiles would like him enough to not do that.
But he was wrong, Stiles looked at him like he was the most pathetic thing he'd ever seen, and when Stiles released most of his control over Jackson all it did was make him feel like a failure, unwanted. But it was what Jackson had wanted, so he finally stopped trying, he stopped being nice, he stopped trying to be his friend, and instead did his best to stay away from the other boy. Of course that's when Stiles decided to pull him back by the reigns, so to speak.
Stiles laid in his bed and thought about his control over the kanima and indirectly Jackson. He tried just letting the boy do what he wanted but he never left him the fuck alone. It made Stiles wonder if Jackson actually wanted him to control him, to make him do things. Maybe Jackson would be happier, maybe Stiles could be happier finally getting something good in his life. It would be natural, it was what Stiles should be doing as the kanima's master. Stiles was also annoyed about Jackson avoiding him, he knew that he had commanded it, had told him to act like himself, but that had been an accident, maybe if he just took completely control he would stop commanding him to do things accidentally.
Stiles was sitting in class when he realized he didn't have a pen, so he told Jackson to give him one, which Jackson did, the one he was using. The rest of the class went smoothly until the teacher decided to give them a surprise quiz. Stiles thought he did well as he left the classroom and noticed that the teacher asked Jackson to stay, Stiles was curious, so he eavesdropped.
"Jackson this is unacceptable, I can't believe you would just leave the test blank like this, you usually do so good."
"I didn't have a pen," was all Jackson said, he shrugged, what could he have done. The teacher scowled and shook her head, Jackson walked out of the classroom as if it the whole thing had meant nothing to him. Stiles felt guilty, how could he not, but it really wasn't his fault, Jackson could have asked someone else for one.
At lunch Stiles eyed Jackson's chocolate chip cookies, Jackson had been saving them the whole day, his father had brought them for him from one of his business trips, from some specialty bakery in Paris. Usually when his father bothered to remember him Jackson was more than happy, so getting something like a gift was extra special.
"Jackson those look really good can I have them," asked Stiles, they looked and even smelled amazing. Jackson hesitated for a second, "come on Jackson now," said Stiles and held out his hand, Jackson dropped the treats into the waiting palm. Scott stared at Stiles as if he'd gone insane, he couldn't believe he would do something like that.
Later that day, some kid Stiles barely even knew had him pressed against a locker, the kids arm was across his throat and his other hand was going through his backpack, looking through his wallet. The halls were busy, people were walking past them as if it were normal, which for Stiles it was. But not any longer, the kid didn't even see it coming, how could he, Jackson was fast and powerful. One second he was taking the few dollars Stiles possessed, and the next he was being lifted up off his feet and pressed against the wall. Jackson didn't wait, he punched and punched, until his fists were bruised and bloodied. The boys face cracked and cracked until Stiles commanded Jackson to stop and watched as the boy feel limp in the halls. Stiles didn't know what happened after that, the kid was in the hospital and Jackson was in the principal's office. He got off with a warning, the kid had had a knife on him and Jackson's father was able to call self-defense.
Stiles walked down the halls with his head held high after that. No one bothered him, not with Jackson walking behind him like an obedient dog scowling at anyone who got in his way. Stiles didn't understand how he had found it annoying before, no, it was empowering.
Jackson dreamt of the boy that night, dreamt of his fists slamming against the kids face over and over and being able to feel the bones beneath his fist crack, seeing a face turn into pulverized mush. He had tried to stop, he had wanted to stop so badly, this wasn't him, no matter what others believed, he could never hurt a person so badly. But Stiles had wanted him to and he had no choice and Jackson had thought it'd be different but it was all the same.
Stiles hadn't told anyone about his first night as the kanima's master, how exhausted he was, how he could barely keep his eyes open after the hours Gerard had kept him tied up in that underground room. He passed out on his bed the instant his back landed. He was so tired he'd slept most of the next morning away, it wasn't until the day grew too hot that he awoke. Only to find Jackson on top of him, arms around his torso, head in the crook of his neck, asleep and nuzzling him. He'd freaked out and had pushed Jackson off of him and yelled at him to get the fuck away from him, and Jackson had. Now sitting in his room again he wondered what that had meant, because it obviously meant something. He called Jackson from far away, told him to come.
Half an hour later he was there, climbing in through his window. He was dressed in a pair of shorts and a loose sleeveless shirt, he had apparently been working out when Stiles had called and was still sweaty and panting. Stiles didn't like that, Jackson smelled musky and underneath that Stiles was sure he could smell the strange leathery scent of lizard scales. He scowled at Jackson and the boy looked away, down, his face fell slightly, the kanima's realization that he'd displeased his master without knowing how. Stiles took pity on him though and didn't mention it, instead he turned off the lights and got into his bed. When Jackson tried to climb in behind him Stiles pushed him off and pointed at the floor. Jackson lay there all night, wide awake, his master wanted him there as protection and nothing more.
Jackson remembered Matt, kind lonely Matt. He had invited Jackson into his bed, had held him close and whispered in his ear all the praises that they both had so desperately wanted to hear from the people around them. Jackson wasn't the kanima then, he was himself and Matt knew, he saw, and he didn't look away, they shared those nights together. Jackson didn't know how he ended up in Matt's bed, he never knew, but he cherished those moments for the affection the boy had showed him with and gave it back ten fold, Matt was the only person who ever seemed to want it.
It didn't take long for people to notice, for the pack to notice the way Stiles used Jackson. He was barely his own person, he was trapped in his own mind and could only watch as Stiles forced him to do things, sometimes frivolous, sometimes horrible, but always against his will. Jackson thought that maybe he would have done them if Stiles had just asked, had just been himself, but he wasn't and didn't. Derek confronted Stiles in his warehouse with the rest of his pack.
"It isn't right," started Derek, "Jackson isn't your servant, we fought hard to save him and you, and now you're just using him like a toy."
"Derek you need to mind your own business, I'm the master, I know what's best, and what's best is whatever I say,"
"What about Jackson, you think this is fair to him. Fucking look at him, look in his eyes tell me where he is in there because I don't see him,"
Stiles laughed, "He's happier this way."
"Can you even hear yourself right now, do you know what you sound like,"
"Whatever," Stiles turned and tried to walk away, Derek grabbed Stiles and pushed him hard against a wall. A second, that's all it took, for Jackson to sink his claws deep into Derek shoulder, paralyzing him, as he fell to the ground, the pack moved and Jackson hissed at them, half his face covered in scales, eyes yellow and slit.
"You guys need to mind your own business. I have control of this, I tell him what to do, and I know what's best for everyone," Stiles looked at each and everyone of them until they looked away. He snapped his fingers and walked away, the kanima hissed one last time and followed its master.
That night the kanima killed again. Stiles wasn't doing anything different, he was buying something at the supermarket, Jackson was loading his jeep with his bags while Stiles waited for him to finish. He'd even made Jackson pay, but the boy was rich, a few groceries wouldn't hurt his trust fund. He saw a group of guys bothering some girl, they were cat calling and following her as she tried to walk away as quickly as she could. Stiles frowned, he couldn't believe guys like that, it was disgusting how people always seemed to pray on the weak. He turned, got in his jeep, and drove away when Jackson had finished loading the car. He left Jackson behind, he could call someone or something. The next morning Scott was banging on his front door. Stiles opened it and was pushed to the ground.
"What the fuck did you do Stiles!? What did you do!?" Scott couldn't believe his friend, how he'd changed.
"What are you talking about,"
"The group of guys you made Jackson kill!"
"I never did that!"
"Yes you fucking did! They're at the morgue now, Derek and me were just there, we know what the kanima's wounds look like. I can't believe you did that…"
"I didn't! I would never!" Scott slammed his fist into the wall leaving behind a huge hole. Stiles sat there on the ground, he knew he hadn't, he wouldn't, he would never.
They made their way to Jackson's house, they had to find him, they needed answers and it was obvious that Stiles couldn't be left as its master, he was too irresponsible, too absent minded. The whole pack was there, along with Allison and her dad, they didn't know how things would go, they understood better than the others that it wasn't Jackson who was dangerous, it was Stiles. If he decided he didn't want to give control up…well they would have to do something about it. Stiles called Jackson down, commanded it, deep in his mind, and nothing happened. He turned to the others and shrugged.
They walked through the front door, it was unlocked. The house was dark and strangely eerie. They split up and searched through the rooms, Stiles made his way up to Jackson's room with Derek. They walked into the room and saw how strangely empty it was. Derek looked at the boys stuff, he had books by his bed and a laptop on his desk. Everything was covered in dust, as if the boy hadn't spent time in his room for weeks, which might have been true. Stiles noticed a small light in the bathroom and pushed the door but it was stuck. He slammed his shoulder against it but it didn't budge.
Finally, with Derek, the two were able to open the bathroom door. It was dark inside except for a dying light bulb that stuck out of the wall. On the floor sprawled against the door was Jackson. Derek reached out and turned the boy over. Stiles stepped away, walked back until he pressed himself against the wall. Jackson had a gun in his hand and a bullet hole in his head. Stiles shook his head, this was never how it was supposed to happen, they had saved him, they'd fucking saved him and Jackson just…he just…
Derek sighed, the pack came into the room having heard Stiles heart rate. They each looked at Jackson's corpse and wondered how they had failed. How could they have failed, they were supposed to save him.