Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Once Upon a Time.

Lone Wolf

Chapter 1: Change of Scene

Oxford University

London, England

Jackson Whittemore strolled across the campus of Oxford University with a smile on his face. His clear blue eyes were concealed behind a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses; his outfit – a dark blue button-down shirt, beige slacks and black leather shoes – spoke of wealth, and his blonde hair was spiked up in his usual style. A dark green backpack was slung over his shoulder.

Jackson had been in London for about six months, and during that time, he had been hard-pressed to find any regrets about the city. He had no memories of living outside of California before he'd moved to the United Kingdom, and, as a result, his new environment was fascinating. London was completely different from Beacon Hills, his previous home; he had never lived in a big city before.

Despite his misgivings about London, Jackson had settled in remarkably well to life at Oxford. Although he was still young enough to be in high school, his parents had enrolled him in classes at the university, rather than to place him in the British equivalent to high school.

Overall, Jackson was enjoying himself; he'd been able to make friends fairly easily, and his schooling was excellent. Admittedly, his relationship with his adoptive parents still left something to be desired, but apart from that, he couldn't complain. This was his life now, and he was doing his best to leave Beacon Hills behind.

However, there was one thing that Jackson missed about Beacon Hills; his friends. He missed his best friend Danny, and the other guys on the school lacrosse team. He even missed the other kids involved in Beacon Hills' supernatural community: Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent, and even Derek Hale.

But most of all, he missed the girl that he loved more than anything else; Lydia Martin.

Jackson frowned, the only visual sign of the pain he felt whenever he thought of her. Her flame-red hair, her warm brown eyes, and her smile, the brightest thing he'd ever seen, haunted his dreams much more often than he would have liked.

She'd been there for him when he had been at his absolute lowest, transformed into a six-foot, reptilian monster under the complete control of a psychopathic murderer. Even when the Kanima, the thing that he'd become, had almost completely consumed the person he had once been, Lydia had been there. She had pulled him back from the brink, and saved his life – and, more importantly, his soul.

And he had lost her. They'd had two magical weeks after the whole Kanima mess was over, two weeks of almost euphoric delight, that they were together, and it was all over.

Then his parents had dropped the bombshell; that they were through with Beacon Hills, and they didn't feel that it was a safe environment for him anymore.

Telling Lydia that he was leaving had ranked among the most painful moments of his life. He could still see the pain in her eyes, no matter how hard he tried to forget.

"Hey, Jackson!"

Snapped out of his reverie, Jackson looked up, his eyes falling on Nigel, his roommate and one of the closest friends he'd made at Oxford. The older boy grinned, his green eyes flashing in the sunlight, and waved. "Come on, mate!" he called, brushing aside his bangs; his jet-black hair was always untidy, and managed to get everywhere. "We're gonna be late! Let's get a move on!"

Jackson nodded. "Right, right," he replied, following Nigel as the pair jogged off towards their next classroom. Jackson could easily have overtaken his friend – being a werewolf had its benefits, once Derek had taught him how to control it – but he had already decided to hold off on using his "extra" abilities as much as possible. After everything he'd gone through in Beacon Hills, he had learned the values of caution and concealment.

"The Brothers Grimm," the professor of Jackson's English Literature class called from the podium, "were the authors of some of the most famous stories of all time. I'm going to assume that most of you are already familiar with their works, at least in part." He smiled faintly, gesturing to the projection screen as images flashed onto the display. "Snow White. Cinderella. Sleeping Beauty. Pinocchio. Red Riding Hood, and the Big Bad Wolf. Just to name a few." Turning away from the screen, he took several steps forward, spreading his arms theatrically. "Now, I'm curious; how many of you would be intrigued to know that these stories were based on real-life events?"

There were quite a few snickers and muffled laughs at that question. Jackson, seated about halfway to the back of the auditorium, didn't laugh, but his lips curved in an amused smirk.

"Oh, no, I assure you, I'm quite serious," the professor assured them. "Of course, the writers obviously took a great deal of creative license, such as the inclusion of magic spells and things of that sort. But most of the stories depicted in those 'fairy tales', as they're called, actually happened. Most of these people – Snow White and Prince Charming, for example – actually existed, once. They were normal people, obviously, without any of the additional mystique that has sprung up around the stories thanks to people like Disney. But the people themselves were, indeed, real."

Jackson raised an eyebrow. Is this guy serious? he wondered.

"Anyway," the professor continued, returning his attention to the lesson at hand. "If I could have everyone's attention, and if you could all turn your books to page two hundred and sixty-seven, we can begin today's lesson."

"Can you believe that guy?" Nigel asked with a grin, leaning against the wall in the dorm room that he and Jackson shared. "I mean, really. Snow White? Prince Charming?" He laughed. "Yeah, right!"

Jackson chuckled softly from where he was seated on his bed, his back against the wall. "Yeah. Weird."

Perhaps sensing something in the tone of Jackson's voice, Nigel turned to face him. "Are you all right, mate?" he asked, his voice now softer than it had been before. "What's botherin' you?"

Jackson sighed, removing his sunglasses and leaning back on his bed. "I don't know. It's just… I mean, Oxford's amazing, but… something about this place feels wrong. Like I'm not supposed to be here."

Nigel shrugged. "Well, what exactly are you planning to do about it?"

After a long moment of silence, Jackson murmured something under his breath.

"What did you say?" Nigel asked curiously.

Jackson opened his eyes, looking up at his roommate. Most of his inner turmoil had suddenly, and rather abruptly, vanished. Icy calm filled his mind.

"I could leave," he said softly.

Nigel's eyes widened in surprise. "Leave? Why?"

Jackson leaned forward, sitting upright and locking his gaze on Nigel. Whatever this was, this feeling of strength and certainty sweeping through him, he welcomed it. "Look, Nigel, I can't stay here. Not after everything my 'parents' have done. I almost died, and, instead of trying to help me get through that, what do they do? They ship me off to London, because they're too embarrassed by me to stay in Beacon Hills." He growled faintly, the sound almost imperceptible to Nigel. "I can't do this, man. I can't keep letting them control me like this. I'm done."

"So… what are you going to do?" Nigel asked.

Jackson grinned. "I've been thinking about this for a while now, actually. I've already transferred most of the money they've given me into an independent savings account, so they can't do anything with it. And frankly, I don't care about the money they still have; I have enough to start my own life, somewhere else, and that's all I'm concerned with." He looked back up at Nigel. "I'll leave this weekend, in three days; that should be enough time for me to get everything packed up and get out before they notice I'm gone."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nigel protested. "You can't just leave! What about all of your friends here? How am I supposed to get another bloody roommate, huh?"

With a chuckle, Jackson hugged Nigel. "You'll be fine," he said, smirking. "Invite Faye to move in; she practically lives here as it is."

Nigel laughed. "She does at that," he admitted. His amusement faded as he looked into Jackson's eyes, grasping his roommate's shoulders. "All kidding aside, though, Jackson… I can't empathize with what you're going through, but I can sympathize. And all I can say is…" He smiled, stepping back and holding out his hand. "Good luck, mate. I hope this is what you really want, and that you're sure about what you're getting into."

Jackson shook his friend's hand; he smirked faintly, but his eyes were deadly serious. "Trust me, Nigel; there are very few things I've been more sure about than this."

One week later

Maine

Jackson hadn't looked back from that moment onward. He had packed up his things over the next three days, finished transferring as much money as he could into his own independent account, and moved out of the dorm. He took the next flight from London to New York, taking all of his things with him. He'd originally been planning to take a second flight from New York to Los Angeles, with the intention of returning to Beacon Hills, but he'd decided at the last minute that he couldn't see that town yet. It would hold too many painful memories for him.

Therefore, Jackson had decided on another option; he'd heard once that he allegedly had some extended family in the northern part of Maine somewhere. So, he'd decided to see if he could track them down. After purchasing the nicest car they'd had at the airport dealership (a sleek black Lexus, as it turned out), he headed out, going north. He passed through Boston within a day, and kept going.

As the car accelerated down the road, Jackson smiled to himself as he looked around at the trees rising up on either side of the road, and the cloud-filled sky overhead. He rolled down the driver's-side window, letting a rush of cool air pour into the car as the rumble of thunder echoed in the distance. Jackson, being a werewolf, ignored the cold; he could barely feel it.

He would miss Nigel and the other friends he'd made in London, of course, but he'd been right; staying there was suffocating him. Right now, driving down a winding road through the dense forest, he felt better than he had for a long time.

That was when Jackson saw something ahead of him, by the side of the road; a large, wooden sign.

"Oh, thank god," he muttered to himself. It had been hours since he'd seen any other signs of civilization, and he'd begun to fear that he had gotten himself lost.

Pulling up next to the sign, Jackson blinked in curiosity as he leaned over to get a closer look at it.

In large cursive letters, the sign spelled out the words Welcome to Storybrooke.

Jackson frowned pensively.

"Storybrooke," he muttered. "I guess it would be too much to hope for a town with a normal name." Sighing, he stepped on the accelerator and drove onward, passing the sign and heading down the road. As he did so, he suddenly felt an odd tingling sensation throughout his body, as if an electrical current was running over his skin. It lasted for a few seconds, and then faded away.

Jackson shook his head, ignoring the odd sensation, and drove on.

A town called Storybrooke, in the middle of the woods, miles from any other signs of civilization.

Something tells me this should be interesting.

AN: Hello, everyone, and welcome to my newest story, Lone Wolf! I know this chapter wasn't very eventful, but I needed an introductory chapter to get Jackson to Storybrooke; things should be much more interesting after this.

To explain where this story is located time-wise; relative to the Teen Wolf timeline, it takes place at about the start of Season 3B. Relative to Once Upon a Time, Jackson will arrive in Storybrooke during the events of Season 1, Episode 10, "7:15 A.M." And yes, I will explain how he can find Storybrooke, when no one from the outside world is supposed to notice it.

I always love getting feedback on my writing, so if you've got any questions or comments regarding this chapter or the story as a whole, please review! (No hate, please).

See you all next time!