Happy Valentines day everybody.
In celebration i give you chapter 2 which happens to have basically no romantic part to it and is kinda not fitting for the holiday. BUT I could be talked into posting something a little more in the heart candy zone if you would like. Gasp I would even make sure to do it today. Anyway in another one of my stories there's this whole Stackson bromance type thing goin on. Not so much in this one, or at least not right away. Ah I have been picking stripper songs for everyone and it's both hilarious and exhausting.
Jackson stormed down the hallway away from Derek's office releasing a low snarl of aggravation. His slot was bumped AGAIN thanks to Scott and his fucking patron saint of lost souls attitude. It wasn't that he needed the money, no he had plenty thanks to his adoptive parents. The way Jackson saw it he earned his slot, he proved himself and nobody should be able to take it away from him. They didn't need a new dancer, a new pack member, and what the hell was a Stiles anyway. Though apparently his opinion didn't matter. And speak of the devil, Jackson could see little boy lost headed in his direction no doubt on his way to see the Alpha.
He couldn't see what was so special about the boy with his shoulders hunched face obscured by the ridiculous ill fitted red hoodie he was wearing. Just looking at him pissed Jackson off, so naturally he shoved the new guy hard into the wall caging him in with a hand on either side of his head face in the open having dislodged the hood. His eyes instantly went to the slightly jagged scar and for just a moment he felt sorry for the boy, but if there was one thing Jackson was sure of it was that you didn't get ahead by being compassionate. No, you did what was necessary to survive. It was always kill or be killed, and Jackson wasn't planning on losing any time soon.
"Better watch yourself scar-face." He expected anxiety maybe even a little bit of fear in response instead he was caught off guard when rage all but poured off of Stiles. He didn't even see the movement until it was too late and Stiles forehead connected with his nose producing a sickening crunch. Stiles used the moment of surprise to reverse their positions shoving a forearm across Jackson's throat while simultaneously flicking open a butterfly knife he that he always had on his person.
Too shocked to move Jackson watched with blood dripping down his chin as something dark and undefined fill the brown eyes staring back at him. The steel of the blade was cold as it pressed into the corner of Jackson's mouth. "Maybe I should mark up your pretty little face like mine." Jackson had to admit the boy had balls threatening him even though he had no clue he would just heal from whatever Stiles did to him. His nose had already fixed itself, the only evidence it had been broken the drying blood on his face. Feeling secure in the fact he would never scar Jackson smirked at Stiles reveling in his imagined superiority. "And every time you look in the mirror you would be reminded of how weak you felt when it happened. When you forget and somebody stares just a little too long and you remember that you failed to protect yourself against a human."
A startled gasp settled a burning sensation at the back of Jackson's throat and his eyes widened flashing bright blue in realization that the knife pressed to his skin was made with werewolves in mind. Jackson had gone looking for something that would make that aching feeling inside himself that said "You're not good enough. You need to be the best." go away. He had tried drinking and drugs and sex. But nothing made him feel whole, and then he found Derek, he found the pack. It didn't fix him though, he still had this gnawing in his gut that told him he was nothing would always be nothing. People wanted him, he was handsome, and in a society where vanity reigns he was near the top of the pyramid. It was all he had, and he knew if he was scarred, if people turned away from him in disgust he wouldn't be able to take it. Tongue clicking dryly against the roof of his mouth Jackson let the fear he felt every day consume him only managing to force out one word in hopes of stopping Stiles. "Don't."
Derek's head snapped up eyes bleeding red at the first tendrils of fear taking a deeper breath to determine the who and they why. Releasing a roar for the whole pack to hear as he rushed to his beta when he found the distinct scent of wolfsbane and blood along with an unfamiliar party. This was his pack and no one would hurt them. Derek found Peter already there eyes shining but otherwise unmoved by the sight of some boy threatening one of their pack.
"I think it would be best if you let Jackson go young Stilinski. He's learned his lesson don't you think?" Peter's grin was positively feral when the only response he got was a low snarl as Stiles pressed the blade harder into Jackson's skin. A whimper escaped Jackson who was looking to his Alpha, pleading for his help and protection. "He should know his place by now Bolverk, and I would not suggest using my given name if you wish to lower my temper." Derek didn't understand what his uncle was trying to accomplish or why he called the young human he had wanted to claim as pack Stilinski.
The Stilinski's were native to Beacon Hills, born wolves of a strong pack that had been exterminated by rogue hunters just over two years prior. It was a cautionary tale now of how hunters were dangerous to even the most powerful of packs. Wolf and human alike were put down without discrimination, there was no way this human child survived a massacre like that. Yet, his uncle had used the name and it had been acknowledged. This boy, Stiles, he bore the scars of torture and a blade laced with wolfsbane. Golden eyes turned to flaming red holding the Alpha's gaze unflinchingly as he lowered the knife finally stepping away from the younger beta.
Derek saw a stutter in the humans gaze like a wave pulling back from the shore before Stiles fell to his knees tilting his chin back exposing the entirety of his neck to the Alpha a low whine falling from him as anguish and fear replaced the anger that was surrounding him. "I'm sorry Alpha Hale." Peter's amused chuckle brought Derek's attention away from the long pale line of skin presented to him beseechingly. "Oh yes Derek, you found yourself the perfect new recruit. The young Stilinski is in need of an Alpha."