"Is it just me, or does it feel strange to be heading back to Beacon Hills after all this time?" Stiles asked as he gazed out the window, watching the passing scenery. Jackson shifted in the driver's seat, and Stiles guessed that Jackson was fighting with himself, weighing up the merits of replying truthfully or sarcastically.
In the past there was no way Jackson would have ever thought about it, probably going with something along the lines of 'well, you've always been strange' or something like that. Now though Jackson seemed to have put a lot of effort into transforming himself into a better person and Stiles couldn't help but be impressed by the maturity his former nemesis displayed.
"It does feel weird to be heading back," Jackson eventually commented, "When I left there I was convinced that I would never go back, that I was done with that town."
"And then I put a hole in that plan," Stiles added with a smirk.
Jackson chuckled, "of course you would be the one to ruin it," he agreed, although Stiles knew that Jackson was only joking, there was no heat or malice behind the words, only humor and gentle teasing.
"Who would have thought that the day would come when we would be voluntarily spending time together…joking with each other and everything."
"I know," Jackson nodded, "Nobody will ever believe it. They'll think that we're shape shifters pretending to be the real Jackson and Stiles…or that something's possessed both our bodies and…shit, sorry."
Stiles blinked, before he let out a sigh, "Considering our past life experience us being…possessed isn't beyond the realms of possibility. We've both been controlled like puppets before, it's not unheard of for it to happen twice, and well, you're right, and someone could be controlling our corpses, although I would like to think that I don't look like I've been dead for seven years. I know I'm not the best looking guy around, but still…it's generally accepted that I drowned…that doesn't do nice things to you once you've been under for awhile. I want to think that I don't look like that."
"Relax, you don't look like a corpse that's been fish food for seven years. You also have a pulse and you are obviously breathing. They'll figure it out soon enough, and to be honest, I think that they'll be too hyped about you being back to worry about potential risks."
"You do have a valid point. It's still Scott," Stiles smiled at the thought of his former best friend, "I wonder how much they've changed."
"Everyone changes," Jackson pointed out, "hell, look how much we've changed over the last seven years. I'm on my way to becoming a decent human being, and you're a badass whose trained with the League of Assassins That doesn't mean that Scott isn't going to be all over you like a god damned rash the minute he lays eyes on you and gets a good whiff of your smell."
"My smell? Has that changed much?"
Jackson took a delicate sniff, "You've lost that slight chemically smell that you used to have…Derek once said that it was your ADHD medication, when Isaac asked about it. You do smell a little bit more…I don't know…dangerous, that you used to, and there is a very subtle smell of gunpowder on you…less than what hunters have, or Diggle, or Sara, or Captain Lance, but it s there, faintly. Other than that you still smell the same, pretty much."
"I didn't know you guys paid so much attention to my scent before," Stiles commented, more than a little confused, and slightly embarrassed, "and what do you mean by pretty much?"
"Derek made Isaac and I learn how to recognize scents before I left for London. Yours was one of the ones we had to recognize…Scott's too, and Lydia. Derek said it was because odds were you or Scott were going to get into trouble, and we'd have to rescue you, and with Lydia it was because he thought she might be in danger because of her involvement with me. As for how your scent has changed…well, you don't smell so much like a hormonal teenager who thinks of sex fifty million times a day and jerks himself off more times than he brushes his teeth."
"You could smell that?" Stiles yelped, burying his face in his hands, "Oh my God, no wonder Derek hated me."
"Scott was worse, he stank so badly whenever he was within 100 yards of Allison…or if he was within 100 yards of anyone mentioning Allison."
"He was a bit pathetic back then, wasn't he," Stiles wryly offered with a small grin.
"Yes, he was," Jackson nodded, "but that's not the only thing about how your scent has changed. You don't smell so scared anymore."
"The anxiety?" Stiles questioned, remembering Scott and Derek talking about how his anxiety had impacted his smell.
"Just after the Queen's Gambit went down, when I was back in Beacon Hills, I went into your room with Lydia. She wanted to, I don't know, sit in there for a bit, and she didn't want to do it alone. Your smell in there, and the traces of your smell that were still lingering in town…Derek explained to me about how your anxiety had influenced your scent. It's not so bad now. I mean, sometimes it's there, a tiny bit, but compared to what it was, and assuming that how much the anxiety is impacting your scent is a indication how your mental state…I'd say that you're in a better condition than you give yourself credit for."
Stiles gave a dark chuckle, "Trust me, I'm pretty sure it's going to be getting a lot worse when we get closer to Beacon Hills."
"Ah well, I can always roll down a window if it gets too much," Jackson shrugged, before Stiles swatted him in the arm.
TW/A
"So…how do we want to do this?" Stiles asked as he lay on his back on the motel bed in the room that he and Jackson had hired for the night. It was a three day drive from Starling City to Beacon Hills, and this was going to be the last night before they arrived in town, barring any unforeseen delays.
Jackson had estimated that they would arrive in town mid afternoon, or thereabout. It was summer time, and according to Danny, who Jackson had informed of their arrival, the entire pack was in town. Danny himself had arrived in Beacon Hills that day, accompanied by Ethan, as he'd wanted to be there to witness the pack's reaction to Jackson and Stiles. The rest of the pack, however, thought that Danny had only come home to visit his parents.
"Assuming Scott isn't a complete idiot, which, you know, not the safest assumption to make, he's going to know that there's a trespassing werewolf in his territory before we actually get into town. Even if Scott doesn't pick up on it Derek probably would."
"Which means he'd confront you," Stiles nodded, "No element of surprise then,"
"Not so much," Jackson agreed, "Hopefully he'll still be the kind of guy who asks questions first, you know, and won't tell Chris Argent or your dad to just blow the strange werewolf's head off without checking who it is first."
"Hopefully Danny will be able to talk him out of anything too rash, if it does come to that. I don't think it will though. Scott has always been against using violence...even if it would've made life a lot easier."
"Sounds like he and Oliver would get along then," Jackson commented and Stiles laughed.
"Yeah…although that does bring up an issue I hadn't considered."
"What's that?'
"I'm an assassin…You said yourself that I small a bit like a hunter. I already have blood on my hands. What if he takes one look at me and realizes what I've been doing in the past seven years. Yes, I'm not an active member of the league, I don't get sent out with a name and kill the person. But I have still killed people, and yes, I'm not counting people whose deaths were connected to the Nogitsune. What if he doesn't want anything to do with me?"
"Then he's an asshole." Jackson replied simply, "I've killed people too, so we'd both be out of the pack on that method of thinking. Also, if we discount known murderers, he'd have kicked out Derek and Chris Argent as well, and yet they're still in the pack."
"That's different and you know it," Stiles replied heavily.
"So? Stiles…it's Scott for fucks sake. Scott would never turn you away. He's just going to be glad that you're actually alive. You two are brothers, probably even more now than you were back before this happened, with your parents being married and everything. He's not going to care about what you've done, all he'll care about is that you're alive and safe," Jackson retorted, "Just the thought of how sappy the reunion between the two of you is going to be is giving me diabetes"
Stiles rolled his eyes, "I'm sure it's not going to be that sappy,"
"Wanna bet?" Jackson smirked.
TW/A
"So, we never actually decided on a plan," Jackson offered, breaking the silence within the car. They were on the last stretch of the journey now, and Stiles' prediction about his anxiety getting worse as they got closer to Beacon Hills was proving to be very accurate. The smell of anxiety in the car was growing with every mile, and Jackson had hoped that appealing to Stiles' talent for strategy would be an effective way to get Stiles' mind focused on more positive things, rather than dwelling on memories, or on worst case scenarios.
"You're right," Stiles sighed, nodding wearily and rubbing his hands over his face. Neither of them had gotten much sleep the previous night, both of them too preoccupied with the thought of being back in Beacon Hills after seven long years of absence.
"So…what do you think. You know Scott way better than I do."
"Ok..." Stiles nodded thoughtfully, "He's not going to know that it's us. Even if he catches our scent there is no certainty that he'd recognize it…especially yours. With that in mind…we probably should stay away from areas that he wouldn't want rogue wolves."
"Meaning?' Jackson prompted
"Not near where anyone lives or works. Not Deaton's clinic, the hospital, the sheriff's office, and definitely not anywhere near where my dad and his mom live, or near where Kira lives.
"Ok, that's good," Jackson nodded, "although…we don't know where your dad and Scott's mom live, or where Scott lives, or where Kira or anyone else live. Danny's parents still live in the same spot, but some people might have moved."
"You're right," Stiles nodded, "What we want is open ground…familiar territory for us, and for them too…how old is the youngest member of the pack?"
"He was a freshman when he got bitten, and that was not long after you 'died', so…about 21, give or take."
"Right…and its summer, that works in our favor. I know where we need to go," Stiles told him, his voice full of confidence.
"Where?"
"The Lacrosse field at Beacon Hills High School."
Jackson thought about Stiles' choice. It made sense. It was a place that connected both him and Stiles to the rest of the pack, and yet it was a public area that wasn't going to cause tension with the pack from being too close to somewhere that the pack wouldn't want strangers.
"Makes sense", he nodded in agreement, 'it would be interesting to see if much has changed."
"It's Beacon Hills," Stiles pointed out with a wry smirk, "I don't think much will have changed."
Jackson laughed, and he had to admit that Stiles had a valid point. It took a long time for anything to change in a small town like Beacon Hills.
It was then that they drove past a sign telling them that Beacon Hills was only 15 miles away, and both of them fell silent, their thoughts lingering on memories, both good and bad, of the town that they'd both grown up in.
Stiles gazed out the window, watching the trees on the side of the road, wondering if one of the werewolves of the pack was out there. They would have to be getting close to the border of the pack territory now. Stiles couldn't remember where exactly the border had been when he'd been living in Beacon Hills, but he couldn't imagine that it would have changed that much.
He was correct. Only a few minutes after they passed the sign declaring they were 15 miles out Jackson shuddered and slowed the car down.
"We're about to cross into Scott's territory," he told Stiles, "I can recognize his scent."
Stiles checked to make sure that his window was the whole way up, while Jackson did the same, neither of them wanting to give away their identities until the right moment.
"Ok, we're in McCall pack land now," Jackson confirmed thirty seconds later, accelerating once again, "It won't be long that Scott realizes that I'm here."
"We'll have time to get to the Lacrosse field, won't we?" Stiles clarified.
"We should," Jackson nodded, "It's not that far."
"Good…I don't think Scott would do anything until he knew we'd stopped anyway…we might have just been passing through. It's not like this is the first werewolf territory we've gone through on the way here."
Jackson nodded in agreement. Scott had never been very aggressive in the past, and Stiles was correct, they had passed through other werewolf territories on their way to Beacon Hills, although they had been careful to stick to main highways and to not stop when they were passing through another pack's territory. It wasn't something that Jackson had really been concerned with when he'd been living in Starling City, being the only long term werewolf occupant of the city (that he was aware of), although sometimes he'd catch the scent of another werewolf or two passing through the city. Derek had told him of the correct etiquette for passing through another pack's territory when he'd left Beacon Hills the last time, when he'd left under the guise of going on a road trip, and he'd followed Derek's instructions closely, not really wanting to get involved in some sort of pack warfare when he planned on disappearing and faking his own death…not actually dying.
Derek's advice had served Jackson well during this journey too, as they hadn't been bothered at all by any other werewolves during the three day journey. Packs that lived on highways, such as the ones that Jackson and Stiles had stuck to for the most part, were well used to other werewolves and other supernatural creatures passing peacefully through their territory along the highways after all.
Jackson and Stiles fell into another drawn out silence as they approached Beacon Hills, the scenery becoming familiar as they begun passing landmarks that they remembered from their youth. Neither of them said anything, not even when they passed the turn off that lead towards Derek Hale's old family home…the same turn off that Stiles had steered Jackson's Porsche up the night of the winter formal.
In fact, neither of them spoke until Jackson pulled into the car park of the high school, parking in his old favorite car park because, well, he could.
"Never thought I'd be back here again," Jackson commented heavily, looking up at the building in front of him.
Stiles nodded, but didn't say anything. Jackson didn't push for details. If Stilinski wasn't going to talk then he sure as hell wasn't going to try and force him.
"Pity I didn't bring my Lacrosse gear…I could have practiced a bit while I waited," he instead commented, getting out of his car and stretching his back, legs, and shoulders, all of which were feeling a little cramped up after spending so long sitting in the car. Stiles didn't reply, but he too got out of the car, stretching and looking around.
"I don't think anyone's here," Jackson observed, "I can't hear any heartbeats or anything like that. What do you think we should do?"
Stiles shrugged, and Jackson locked his car, before he and Stiles walked over to the Lacrosse field. A gentle breeze blew across the field, and Jackson took a moment to inhale the scent of the woods and the grass. Deep down he felt his inner wolf shift, remembering the scent of the woods that it first learned how to track and hunt within.
"I'll let Oliver know that we got here without killing each other," Jackson offered, pulling out his phone from his pocket and sending a quick message to Oliver, before he did the same with Felicity. Felicity replied with a smiley face that made Jackson smile, before he put his phone back away.
"They'll probably come from the trees," Stiles observed, breaking his silence, "although that's where the wind is coming from. I think you should be out in the open, ready to face them."
"Ok, but what about you?"
Stiles turned, so his back was to the forest, and pointed, "I'll hide under the bleachers. The wind will be blowing my scent, and hopefully the sound of my heart beat, away from them, and then I can jump out and surprise them," Stiles smirked and Jackson was visibly reminded of the sarcastic, joking teenager Stiles had once been.
"Don't wait too long before you spring the surprise, I probably have picked up your scent after three days of being stuck in a car with you. They might get a tad suspicious if they realize I smell a bit like you. They might think I actually ate you or something."
"Of course." Stiles rolled his eyes, before he began to cross the field heading back towards the bleachers. Jackson watched until Stiles was safely beneath them, hidden from sight. Stiles was right, from where he stood he couldn't smell Stiles, and he could only hear the other man's heartbeat faintly, and that was only because he knew to listen for it.
With nothing better to do, Jackson sat down on the grass and focused on relaxing every part of his body. It was a meditative technique that Oliver had taught him as a way to keep control when he'd had the Miracuru in his system, but Roy had actually found it helpful as a strategy to use when his inner wolf was being particularly restless.
Taking everything into consideration Jackson's inner wolf was actually being relatively calm. He knew that it recognized Beacon Hills as the town where it had come into being, and it had registered that it was probably where Derek, the Alpha who had bitten him in the first place, still lived (although Jackson hadn't caught any trace of Derek's scent on their way into town).
Still, sitting on the grass was relaxing, and Jackson focused on inhaling the scent of the woods, the sweet smell of the grass. Overhead the sun was shining, and Jackson welcomed the warmth as it spread throughout his body. Even in the depths of summer Starling City had always felt kind of cold to him…and he'd missed the warmth that California offered.
Still, despite the warmth of the sun beating down on him, and the comforting, natural smell of the trees, dirt and grass, Jackson was fully alert. His eyes were constantly scanning the tree line, as well as the other directions as well, his keen hearing on full alert, since Jackson was fairly certain that he would hear the pack approaching long before he saw or smelt them.
Being alert like this was something that Jackson had become very good at. Derek had taught him the basics, the summer before Jackson had left for England, and the pack that he'd joined for the six months or so that he spent living in England had built a little on that knowledge. When he was living on his own though, without the protection of a pack, Jackson had really worked on honing the skills, unable to trust anyone but himself and his own senses, to protect him from harm. And then Oliver had come along, human, but with experience that Jackson couldn't come close to matching. Even without known about Jackson's supernatural senses Oliver had managed to find things to teach Jackson, new knowledge that Jackson had added to what he had already learnt.
It had all added up, and Jackson was quietly confident of his ability to keep watch. He used the skills every night these days, while he was out on the streets helping Oliver try and get the crime and corruption out of Starling City, so it wasn't as if he was out of practice, even without many supernatural threats passing through Starling City.
Another thing that Oliver had taught Jackson, to a certain extent, was patience. As the minutes trickled by Jackson forced himself to wait, to stay quiet and still, to wait for the pack to find them. Patience had never been one of Jackson's strengths, he wasn't afraid to admit that. It was one of his faults from his teenage years that he hadn't lost over the years. Thankfully Oliver, and Diggle, to a certain extent, had helped show him ways to maintain his patience, as it was important when they had to wait until the right time to do things. It had been especially difficult back when he'd had the miracuru in his system, but now that that ordeal was, mercifully, over, all he had to deal with his own impatience, and of course, the fact that his inner wolf was more often than not, even more impatient than he was.
Luckily, for the moment, Jackson's inner wolf seemed content to remain quiet, perhaps understanding the importance of waiting for the pack to come to them, rather than confronting the pack head on.
What surprised Jackson, however, was how quiet Stiles was being. Other than the occasional sound of Stiles shifting position slightly, the other former resident of Beacon Hills remained still and quiet…words that Jackson hadn't thought it was possible to use in relation to Stiles Stilinski.
And yet, here they were, both of them being quiet and waiting patiently to be found by the pack.
