Rated T. A/B/O Dynamics. Drama/Humor.

Bubble, Bubble, Toil and... Ice Baths?

"Seriously, Jackson?" Popko chortled as they walked to their lockers. Sometimes he missed the days when Popko was dating Ramona and annoyed her between classes.

Jackson wanted to bang his head against the metal, "No, Popko, I cannot lift a car."

"Have you tried?"

He had. But he'd sworn Tommy, the only witness to his failure, to secrecy. So it never happened.

Popko leaned against the locker next to him, eyebrow raised and hat tilted, "There was this guy on youtube…"

Jackson glared.

The internet was the worst thing ever invented!

"Not everything on the internet is true, Bobby."

Popko scowled at the use of his first name, "Dude."

"Can we please talk about something else?" Jackson swapped out his Algebra book for his American Lit one.

"Fine," Popko sighed, crossing his arms, "You hear about what happened at Lola's party last weekend?"

"No," Jackson shrugged, "Vegas, again."

Popko nodded. It wasn't like either of them was invited to said party. Exes weren't exactly high up on anyone's guest list.

"Darren The Dick made quite a scene from what I heard." Popko nodded, smirking as they headed towards lunch.

What else was new? Darren was always making a scene. He gave high school athletes everywhere a bad name.

"Lola hulked out apparently."

Jackson paused, "Lola?" She was technically an alpha, same as Darren. They'd both presented before Jackson had.

Popko nodded, "I thought Ramona would have told you." Alarm bells were going off in his head.

"Ramona?" His voice was tight, Popko raised another eyebrow.

"I don't know the whole story," Popko raised his hands in surrender, "Just that Lola kicked Darren out of her house over Ramona. The snaps were pretty hard core."

And now Jackson wished he hadn't deleted Snapchat.

When they walked into the lunchroom Jackson flinched. The smell was unreal. Worse than the food. He ignored it as they took a seat with the rest of his friends.

Well, he ignored part of it. There were only four omegas in their lunch period (so far) and two of them were at his table. Mankowski and Gene were easy enough to ignore.

Ramona was even easier to pinpoint.

She was with Lola and the royal court of popular kids, per usual. So was her scent. Totally usual. Mostly sour with the suppressant.

How the hell did Lola stand sitting next to her?

His nose wrinkled without his knowledge.

Gene's suppressant had a rotten scent and Mankowski's a rancid one, but neither was as strong or thick as the sour lemon that was Ramona.

"Dude," Popko nudged his shoulder, "What are you doing?"

Jackson shrugged, "Nothing." He'd dissect Ramona's scent later. According to google if he tried hard enough he would be able to pinpoint emotional shifts from her scent.

Popko smirked. Lips slim and cheeks wide.

"Sure, Jackson."

They returned to the weekend gossip. Jackson really hated Vegas. He missed out on everything!

Nugs had apparently gotten a tutor while he was away. A super hot one.

Darren the Dick faded from his mind. Until right after American Lit. Because Gym. It was a thing. A very annoying thing.

"Hey Fuller!"

A thing that included Darren grinning at him from across the locker room. Jackson immediately turned in the other direction. Towards his locker.

"Come On!" Darren mocked, loudly, "Don't run away!"

Jackson rolled his eyes. Like he was going to fall for that.

Darren crossed the room as Jackson pulled off his shirt to stuff it inside his locker. When Darren's hand connected with the locker door, slamming it shut, the entirety of the locker room went still.

"I hear you're shacked up with Lola's bitch."

And if everyone wasn't listening then, they were now.

Jackson turned around to face Darren. He was taller, bigger, but Jackson felt like he could compensate with rage at this point. He was pretty scrappy.

"And I hear Lola kicked your ass." Jackson grinned as Darren's fell.

The guys that had been occuping the benches nearby got up. No one wanted to get caught in the crossfire. Jackson could respect that.

"Does Lola fight all your battles?" Darren's eyes narrowed, "Or did she get the omega in the divorce?"

Jackson wasn't sure what annoyed him more - the fact that he was talking about Ramona like she was nothing or the fact that he was talking about her at all.

Both.

Definitely both.

His fingers curled into a fist as Darren kept talking - Jackson was fairly positive everything coming out of his mouth was disgusting.

Jackson felt totally justified when his fist collided with Darren's mouth. Right up till the guy's teeth scratched his knuckles.

"Fuck!" Darren roared from the floor. Jackson blinked. Darren was on the floor?

Not for long. His body collided with Jackson's and Jackson's back hit the lockers. There was a crunching sound that he hoped came from the lockers.

Jackson lifted his knee up, nailing Darren in the abdomen and then lowered it with force onto his foot. Heel first. That crunch was not from the lockers.

An hour later Jackson was sitting in the nurses office - cringing every few seconds as she cleaned out each of the cuts on his back. Thoroughly.

Who knew twisted metal could leave paper cuts? Metal cuts? Whatever.

"Mr. Johnson had to go to the hospital to have his foot set." The principle was looking at him with narrowed eyes. His mom was standing there with mouth and eyes wide.

"You broke his foot?" DJ shrieked as she looked at Jackson. He attempted to shrug. The nurse immediately tutted him, pressing an alcohol soaked cotton ball against a cut on his shoulder.

The principal sighed, "Given the circumstances the Johnsons have agreed not to press charges. There were a number of students who witness Darren's…provocative words."

DJ's eyebrows went high and her chin went low, "Words?" Here eyes turned to Jackson with a chilling look when it was explained that Jackson threw the first punch.

The drive home was quiet. Very quiet.

Jackson was not looking forward to his two week suspension. Less so when they walked through the door into a quiet house. Aunt Stephanie had taken off for some gig in San Diego that morning.

"Jackson Michael Fuller!"

He flinched at the high-pitched shriek that his mother emitted as soon as the door was closed. His stomach did a lovely somersault.

"What in Nantucket were you thinking?!"

Jackson swallowed back bile and stoof up straight. He didn't want to see his lunch again. He didn't want to sit through this lecture more than once either.

"This is exactly the sort of thing you're suppose to be avoiding!" DJ started pacing the stretch of floor between the stairs and front door.

Moving to sit down seemed like an attention grabbing action so Jackson didn't even shuffle his feet as she stood in front of his mom. Ordinarily he would at least hang his head in an attempt to look cowed by her words, but he had this headache that was bubbling up behind his forehead. No attempts were made.

"And! This is why you're spending the weekends with Joey!" DJ paused to point a finger at him, "To learn how to control these urges!"

Ok. Bubbling wasn't just a headache.

"I spend every weekend with Joey because you don't know what to do with me!" Jackson had no memory of the decision to speak, or yell! But he totally agreed with what came out of his mouth so he rolled with it.

"Jackson -"

"You didn't expect me to be an alpha, so you just foist me off on Joey rather than figure it out!" His mouth ignored the command to shut up and Jackson's fingers are tingly. "You don't even try to understand! Or ask questions!

Like. Really tingly. Like, painful burning sensation tingly that is also in his chest.

"It's not like I have any clue what's going on either!" Jackson's mouth feels dry. His mouth finally shuts itself when he starts coughing. The tingly feeling is in his throat.

His mom's face is a scrunched up as she steps closer, hand reaching for his face, "Jackson…honey, you're really red. Are you-"

Jackson blacks at after that. When he comes to his body is warm, burning up like it had during his rut. Or a really bad fever. His mind was foggy and he could just hear his mom's voice, muffled and distant.

The sight that greeted him was not anywhere in his expectations. For one, he was in the tub. With his clothes on. And surrounded by ice.

Okay. Lots of questions.

He focused on his mother's voice. She was talking to someone. It took him a second, but he recognized Kimmy's voice and…Rocki's mom.

"Thanks for coming, Gia, you're really the only alpha we know in the state." "No sweat. Deej did all the right things. My husband gets the fever every tax season." "Tom didn't, not often anyway, when I was pregnant with Jackson a few times and then once with Max…" "They're stress induced in males." "Really?" "Yup. Females don't have to worry about this particular quirk in the alpha physiology." "Well I'm glad I remembered what to do then."

Jackson blinked. Fever? Is that why he was so warm? And his head ached. And his body. And… okay, yeah fever. But why would it be triggered by stress, and why now? It wasn't like the ten previous weeks hadn't been sucky.

"His heart beat is jumping up," Rocki's mom, Gia, didn't even finish her sentence before his mom was pushing through the door.

"Jackson," her hand was on his forehead as she knelt beside him, "You've cooled down a bit, but you're still really warm."

The air smelled funny. Like singed hair. His eyes locked on Gia. It was her. She smirked.

"Kids got a good nose," Gia stepped back into the hallway, "I ain't trying to stake a claim or anything."

Oh. Right. Alpha. She was an alpha. Like stupid Darren. Or Lola. Their scents weren't quite so strong though.

Wait.

If she was an alpha. And she'd said her husband was.

Great. Were all of his ex-girlfriends (or ex-not-girlfriends) going to be alphas?

The idea of Rocki as an alpha made him shutter and he closed his eyes at the image. The world sort of fuzed out then. Just muffled voices and bad scents.

Which were blessedly absent when he woke up again. The overwarm feeling was gone too. And the ice.

"Jackson?"

He flinched at the voice. Ok. Heightened hearing was working. And extra sensitive. Jackson gulped down the bile rising in his throat. Again.

His mom whispered, "Jackson?" Her voice was still loud and vaguely muffled in his ear. As if she were screaming through cotton balls.

When he opened his eyes again Jackson was greeted first by his mother's face. Right in front of his. And then by a sweaty smell that clicked into his head as worry.

Huh. He could smell emotional shifts!

Five points for google.

"Your fever broke an hour ago," her hand pressed against his forehead, "I was getting worried."

Jackson shifted and sat up. Black spots in his vision and a faint swoosh in his head told him in no uncertain terms Not to do that again.

"Your dad never really passed out when he had these fevers," his mom was rambling, talking fast, "but Gia said it was pretty normal. Even so, I called the doctor. And boy howdy, he had nothing helpful!"

Blinking in the appearance of his room - cleaned, organized. Ok. Worry was obviously an understatement. DJ was already fretting around his desk, dusting the wood as if she hadn't already done that.

There was a sheen. And an orange smell.

Everywhere.

"How long have I been out?" Jackson scrunched up his brow as he sat back against his headboard. The feeling of being stuffed full of cotton balls was ebbing away.

DJ look at him, eyebrows drawn in, "It's almost midnight."

Oh.

"Shit." Jackson's head thumped against the wood. Also orange scented. It was kind of overwhelming.

"Language," DJ snapped her finger at him, eyesbrows high. Jackson hurumphed and slunk back down the bed.

Her voice didn't sound muffled anymore, but it was still sharp. Though he was fairly certain that was because she was still upset with him.

"Gia gave me the name of a doctor who specializes in alpha physiology," DJ wrung her hands as she came back to sit on his bed. Her hand moved to his forehead, "I only knew what was happening because-"

"Dad got them," Jackson pressed further into his pillow. He kind of missed the muffling now, "I heard that part." Her hand stilled.

She smiled nervously, "You weren't wrong…before." DJ sighed, "I don't really know what you're going through right now, or how to help."

Jackson scrunched up his eyebrows. He had a vague memory of yelling. Of a bubbly warm feeling.

"You…don't remember what you said before you fainted do you?" DJ pursed her lips.

"Nantucket," Jackson racked his brain for the last thing he remembered besides the ice. "Vegas?"

DJ grimaced, "Okay." She kissed the top of his head and stood up, "Get some rest, we'll talk in the morning." The raised eyebrows on her way out promised that they'd be talking about everything.

Great.

I was this close to making Chad Bradley the stereotypical alpha jock, but he wasn't a big enough jerk for me to justify the character assassination so I invented Darren the Dick instead.

Chad the Brad will have to play another role! Maybe! Eventually!

Reviews Always Appreciated!