Jackson ran back outside, knife in hand, only to discover the alpha was gone. He glanced around just to be sure, trying to be cautious. But he saw Derek laying there. His nerveless fingers dropped the knife and he fell more than walked towards him. Half of Derek's body was ripped open. A good chunk of his left shoulder was completely gone. The blood was black in the night, pouring out of him. His eyes were closed. His chest didn't move. Jackson pulled him up, even more alarmed when Derek didn't make a sound. This couldn't be happening. They'd been arguing two minutes ago. Jackson dragged him inside, adrenaline and panic equally infiltrating his system. He managed to get the unconscious, Jackson refused to think he was dead, werewolf to his bed before running back downstairs and closing and locking the door. He tore off his shirt, for lack of anything else immediately at hand, and mopped up the blood on the way back up. He dropped the blood filled fabric inside the door before closing it and rushing to Derek again.

Jackson took hold of his hand, praying silently. He searched Derek's neck for a pulse, fingertips slipping in the blood. After a matter of seconds he gave up on that and pressed his ear to Derek's chest. A faint, barely there thump could be heard. Relief flooded him for a few precious seconds. What was he supposed to do now? He didn't know anything about werewolves. If Derek was human he'd already be dead. Jackson lifted his head and pressed his free hand to it, trying to think. Stop the bleeding. That seemed to make sense. He looked back down to Derek. The crimson tears were easily a foot and a half long. From his shoulder down to his waist. Jackson shoved away wondering why this had happened. It did no good now. He was loath to leave Derek but he went to get towels. It was the only thing he could think of. With the thick terry cloth clutched in his hands he paused again to think.

Jackson didn't know anything about saving a life. He was possibly the worst person for this. He had to try anyways. Bloody hands shaking he rolled the towels the best he could and moved the shreds of shirt out of the way before pressing them against Derek's wounds. He winced even though Derek didn't make a sound. It must've hurt and Jackson wished that he reacted. But he slept on, like the dead. Jackson paused to think again. He needed to apply pressure. There was so much area though… He made the decision quickly. Jackson rounded the bed and climbed in, taking one last deep breath before laying his body over Derek's. There was no reaction and Jackson honestly didn't know if he'd been expecting one. He slid his arms under Derek's shoulders, holding him tight. After a few minutes Jackson laid his head on Derek's chest, listening to the too quiet sound of his heart.

His eyes kept drifting closed. But Jackson was terrified to sleep. What if Derek's heart stopped? Not that he knew what he would do if it did. Still. If he woke in the morning on top of a corpse… Jackson didn't think he'd be able to handle that. He couldn't lose Derek now. Not with the way they'd left things. He should have apologized. Jackson still wasn't sure why Derek was mad…he must just be too much of a problem. But he could apologize for that anyways. And he could try to be better. If only Derek would heal. Derek had to heal.
"You have to heal," he muttered desperately. "I need you." He laid his head on Derek's chest again and exhaled slowly. Everything would be alright. He had to believe everything would be alright.

Derek's heartbeat grew louder ever so slowly, over a span of several hours. Dawn had yet to break and Jackson had managed to convince himself that if they could just make it to sunrise everything would be fine. Derek would open his eyes and look at him and everything would be the way it was meant to. Jackson must be getting tired. That last thought was a bit sappy. Maybe this was the best time for it anyways. If Jackson had said that to Derek he'd probably have laughed out loud. Though, Jackson didn't think he'd ever heard Derek laugh. He wondered if Derek ever did. He snuggled even closer at the thought. Time continued to pass. Jackson waited for Derek to wake up. The faintest pink light was filtering through his blinds when there was a soft knock at the door.
"Jackson?" his mother questioned. He peeled himself off of Derek slowly and crossed the room. He glanced down to his blood stained chest before pressing a cautionary hand against the wood.
"Yes?"

He fought to stay calm. There was no way she could have known about Derek.
"Aren't you going for a run this morning?" He glanced back to Derek. Like he had a choice.
"Ah…no. I thought I'd give it a rest this morning. I'm not feeling very well actually."
"Did you want me to bring you something?"
"No," he answered too quickly, wincing. "It's a mess in here. I'm going to clean up after I try to get some more rest."
"I'll call the school for you," she said. "You want me to stay home today?"
"No," Jesus Christ no, "I'll be fine."
"Alright Jackson. I'll be downstairs for a bit if you need me." He listened to her fading footsteps gratefully.

Jackson went back to bed. Derek slept on but his presence was a comfort. Jackson climbed back on top of Derek, at a loss for anything else to do. His hands wandered up Derek's shoulders and rested there as he let his eyes close. In no time at all he was sound asleep, the sun finally edging over the horizon. Fingers gently wove themselves through his hair. Jackson sighed out.
"Derek," he let out, the name slipping between his teeth.
"This bed reeks of you," Derek murmured. "Though maybe that's actually you."
"Sorry," he mumbled, making no effort to move at all.
"Jackson, you have to get up." Jackson simply groaned in response. "The towels are going to seal themselves in my skin if I don't take them out."
"Let me sleep," Jackson complained.
"I would, but you're not sleeping."

Jackson shot up, staring at Derek wide eyed. Derek released a hiss of breath at the motion.
"You're alright," Jackson breathed. Derek winced as he peeled away the towels.
"Perhaps in a lose definition of the word." His skin was swollen and red, mottled purple in some places. Jackson leaned forward, careful to place his weight on his hands as he let his forehead rest against Derek's.
"If you'd seen you before you'd say you were alright now." Derek cuffed Jackson lightly on the back of his head.
"That's for not listening to me," he breathed, hand sliding to the base of his neck. Jackson didn't move, even as embarrassment flooded him.
"Couldn't just leave y-" Derek kissed him then, harder than Jackson thought he was capable of at that moment. It was over too soon and Derek sighed as his eyes closed.
"And that's because it was the last thing I thought about doing."

Heat rushed up Jackson and he worked just to breathe. He was still straddling Derek, lips burning pleasantly, and the knowledge that Derek had thought about kissing him right before passing out running loops around his brain. "As I recall," Derek murmured, "we were in the middle of a conversation."
"Yeah," Jackson agreed. "And I'm sorry." Derek lifted a hand and placed it over Jackson's mouth.
"Stop talking. You like to talk." He sighed and glanced down. "I'm not angry. I was just jealous. Jealous as hell actually." Derek met his eyes after a moment. "I saw you with her."
"Lydia's just convenience," Jackson said, pulling Derek's hand away. "That's all the relationship is." He watched as Derek looked away again. "I'll break up with her," he glanced around for his phone, no idea where it was, "right now."
"Don't worry about it," Derek said. "Let's rest, just for now. We both need to rest." He pushed Jackson's shoulder until Jackson slid off him to the empty side of the bed.

Jackson laid back. He was ridiculously happy that Lydia was all it was. Lydia. He nearly snorted before glancing back to Derek
"You could have died," Jackson whispered, fingertips settling on Derek's wrist.
"And so could you," Derek responded, eyes closed.
"I don't want you to die," Jackson said, ignoring the statement. Derek let out a small 'hm' eyes still closed. Jackson shifted onto his side before scooting closer and resting his head on Derek's good shoulder. "Don't leave me," he let out on a hushed breath.
"Won't," Derek sighed.

A/N: It's a bit short but I wanted to get this posted since I'll be pretty busy the next few days and you guys insisted I left you on a cliffhanger. *rolls eyes* Methinks we all know that I was not going to kill Derek. You're being overly dramatic.