Author's Note: Just a short fic about Jackson bein a tad angsty about stuff. Takes place at the start of episode 2 of season 2, at the same time that the Lahey's are having their last dinner together.
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Freaks
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It was nine o' clock and Jackson was awake, staring up at his ceiling.
He was having trouble breathing. Part of it was that his chest had been feeling so tight for the past few days that any kind of breathing resulted in a most unpleasant squeezing feeling against his sternum. The other part was that his nose was stuffed up with an impressive amount of tissues, drenched in the black liquid that had started secreting from his body two days ago and hadn't stopped since. He tried to breathe slowly through his mouth, but every time he did, he'd accidentally suck in the ends of the tissues protruding from his nostrils. Then he'd huff in frustration causing the tissues to dislodge from their positions, slipping out just enough to became infuriatingly uncomfortable. So Jackson took the bunched up Kleenexes out altogether, feeling like he was pulling out liquified portions of his brain as he felt the black colored phlegm slide out the back of his naval cavity and down the back of his throat.
It was disgusting.
And more importantly, it made Jackson furious with frustration.
He just wanted to sleep. He wanted to stop leaking black shit from his face and he wanted to breathe through his nose like a normal person and get some goddamn sleep so he could go to school tomorrow. He had a test in Pre-Calc and an essay due for his AP English class. He wasn't going to miss school and risk falling behind because Derek had screwed him over.
Because it must have been Derek's fault, right? He just messed up when trying to turn him?
Jackson shook his head, but only internally so as it to displace his new tissues. Of course it was Derek's fault. Who else was there to blame?
A scratching at the back of his brain wanted to say, "You Jackson. It's always you. You aren't good enough. You never will be." But before he could properly register his thoughts, Jackson sneezed, shooting his newly rolled tissues onto his bed from the force along with a good spattering of that too familiar black gunk.
Jackson growled, slamming his fists into the mattress below him. He sat up, mumbling to himself, "Fucking tissues, fucking black whatever the fuck shit, fucking Derek. You had one job. One fucking Job. Fucking Alpha? Yeah right. Can't even turn someone into a fucking werewolf."
He could hear his mother's soft footsteps drag across the hallway carpet only to stop outside his door. He rolled his eyes when she called out to him in a shaky voice, "Jackson sweetie? Are you okay?"
Was he okay!? What kind of asinine question was that? He was oozing black shit! He wasn't okay! He wasn't gonna tell her that though. She would come in and try to comfort him or try to coddle him, as if she had the right.
Jackson didn't need to deal with that shit so he called back, angrier than he would have liked to have sounded, "I'm fine. Just go to sleep. I can take care of myself."
He waited a few seconds, hearing her sigh and shuffle back to her bedroom before swinging his legs out of bed and onto the carpet. He looked down at e sea of black and white that had become his bedroom floor. The number of used tissues covering the carpet was equal parts impressive and nasty. Jackson didn't realize he had used so many.
He scowled at the sight. Somehow it seemed to scream failure at him. He was ashamed. Is this what he had been reduced to? A mountain of snot covered rags? He felt stupid for being so angry at a pile of dirty Kleenex, but he couldn't control his rage. He wanted punch them all. But he knew that wouldn't fulfill his need to destroy. They were just tissues: soft and crumpled and easily forgotten after being used up.
'Like you' his thoughts itched his brain again, but Jackson was busy, cleaning up his mess, shoving the tissues into his trash bin by the handful. When he'd cleared the floor, he tore out the remaining tissues in his nose, his anger simmering down to a much more manageable level at the realization that his nose had slowed down its leaking. Only the tips of the tissues had been tainted.
"Finally," Jackson exhaled and physically felt the tightness in his chest dissipate like air from a large balloon.
Maybe he was done with this creepy black shit. Maybe his body had somehow fixed whatever mistake Derek had made while trying to bite him. Maybe now he'd finally be able to turn into a werewolf and feel that power he had been promised. He'd be able to take care of himself from now on. He wouldn't need anyone. Not his parents, not Lydia, not Derek, Scott or anybody.
Not that he'd needed them before.
He would have complete control in his life.
His mind raced with excitement at that thought.
Everyone in Beacon Hills was so... ordinary. Jackson had never been like that. He'd always been different: strong. They lived their stupid charmed lives, not giving a shit what might be happening to didn't know what it was like for him. They had no idea how it felt to be unwanted. To know the people he had been told to trust had been the biggest liars all along. They didn't understand the need for approval, of acceptance that was forever coursing through him because of a decision he had no control over.
Jackson stopped.
No.
He wasn't some needy teenager. He wasn't some whiney kid with a broken self esteem. He was Jackson Whittemore. He already had control. And if his brain thought differently, then it was wrong. He didn't ask for the bite so that he could gain stability. He didn't need power. He already had power. He just wanted an extra boost. It was the same as steroids. He didn't need them, but if everyone else was using them just to get on his level, he would have to take them to stay in the lead. Yeah, the bite was like a steroid. Just with a more permanent solution.
He looked around, surprised to find himself already at the front door. He had been moving while he was lost in thought. He put his hand on the knob to turn it and jumped when he heard a loud crash. He quickly shook it off though, realizing it had just come from the neighbors across the street. Gawd they were annoying. It was almost ten, didn't they have any empathy for the rest of the neighborhood that was trying to sleep like normal people?
He stepped outside, listening to more crashes and raised voices as he made his way down his front steps. He watched as the door to the Lahey's house swung open and Isaac ran out, his father right behind him. He raised an eyebrow as they both rode away, Isaac on his bike, his father in the car, leaving the front door wide open.
"Freaks." Jackson mumbled to himself, dropping his bag full of black and white tissues into the garbage can at the end of his drive way before turning back around to go inside.
Isaac had always been a weird kid. That's probably why his dad beat him up so often. Jackson pursed his lips. That guy didn't know how lucky he had it. If he had a father, like a real blood-related father, he certainly wouldn't be taking him for granted. He'd be the best son that anyone could ask for. In fact, he was.
Isaac was taking what he had for granted. He was taking his own family for granted. And Jackson didn't get why his dad put up with him. They were both freaks. They were doing it wrong. They didn't see what they had.
And they were fucking loud at stupid times of the night.
Jackson jogged back upstairs and flopped into bed. He fell asleep fast and to his knowledge, didn't wake up until his alarm went off in the morning.
He checked his nose and smiled to himself when his fingers came back, dry and clear.
He glanced out the window and saw that the Lahey's front door was still wide open. When he didn't look away, his eyes stung and his head throbbed. He couldn't get the image of Mr. Lahey, red faced and angry and yelling at his son, out of his head.
He closed his eyes, rubbing his temples for a moment and opened them again, deciding that it was nothing, just...his eyes adjusting to the light?
Whatever. Jackson left all thoughts of everyone else behind when he noticed the big 'X' on his calendar on the door.
There was a full moon tonight.
He smirked to himself.
Starting tonight, his life was going to be totally different. He was starting over. Tonight was going to be the first night of his new history. And it was going to be awesome.
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Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I always loved that scene in the show so I just wanted to write about it. I loved how much of a douchebag Jackson was, and as much as I still love Teen Wolf, I definitely think the show has suffered a lot with the loss of Jackson. He brought some much needed contrast to the show that I just don't think can be replaced. Also...Colton Haynes was freakin beautiful to look at...
Reviews are love!...but really...they mean more to me than they probably should...