THE SHAPESHIFTER

Many months before…

London was supposed to be a new start of sorts. That's what Jackson's parents had told him – foster parents, he reminded himself. He couldn't blame them for their concern. They hadn't been blind to the nights he disappeared, or all the hijinks that he had gotten involved in with the others.

At least they didn't know about the supernatural aspects of that. He worried how his dad would take it if he found out his son was a werewolf – a werewolf who had technically died for the span of two seconds, no less.

Yeah, no way was he letting that cat out of the bag.

Still, Jackson wasn't opposed to the move. Sure, he missed Beacon Hills, where he'd practically grown up and become high school royalty. Sure, he missed lacrosse and how great he'd been at it, even when McCall had come in and stolen the glory from him. And sure, he missed Lydia…

But this was a new start. Jackson was ready to cut his ties from Beacon Hills – excluding Danny. They were best friends for many, many reasons – even if Jackson couldn't fully wrap his head around how Danny truly seemed to not find him hot.

Jackson knew he was everybody's type.

That's why Jackson had told Danny everything. He was worried Danny wouldn't believe him, and Danny had seemed a little skeptical at first. Jackson had to put on a show with his werewolf powers. He was worried that Danny might be afraid or run, but his friend stood by him, even if he didn't completely understand everything Jackson had told him about.

His new start had been going well for the first month. No incidents, great no school, hot foreign chicks who thought he was the hot foreign one. If Jackson had been able to pack up Danny and bring him along here, he knew it would have been perfect. They would have dominated.

And then, a full moon came. Jackson had already been getting used to his werewolf powers, trying to learn and adapt. It was going really well and when the full moon came, Jackson found a secluded place and hid himself away, in case he lost control.

But, he didn't. Well, not quite in the way he had thought he might.

As Jackson paced around the hidden room, locked tight and secured to keep him until he was himself again, he felt a strange feeling coursing through him.

And suddenly, his body was shifting, changing, and Jackson thought that he might really lose control – until he saw what his body was becoming.

He had expected lots of hair and fur, wolf-like claws and fangs. Instead, as he looked at himself, he saw his skin becoming scaly and green. His hands indeed began to take the form of claws, but not of a werewolves. It occurred to him then what he was transforming into.

He was the Kanima again. Somehow. But how? Hadn't he overcome that, died and become a "better" person and all of that bull that McCall and Stiles had tried to explain to him?

So he sat there, in the room, all night, shifting in and out of the form of the Kanima, unable to control it. When the night ended and he felt truly exhausted, he thought it was over. He skipped school that day, told his parents he was sick, and slept in like a baby. It was wonderful.

That is, until he went out that night. He had a date with Patricia… or was it Leanne? He couldn't remember anymore. He'd lied to Danny, said he was dating all these girls and returning to his old ways, but really, it was a way of coping. He missed home, Lydia, and also still had dreams sometimes of when he had been the Kanima.

Matt had screwed him over and made him do things he'd never have wanted to, or would have, despite how much McCall and Stiles pissed him off.

Jackson had tried apologizing to everyone, which seemed to shock them when he did. He knew he could be hard, and dickish, but the whole episode with the Kanima had begun changing how he viewed things. He did want to be better.

So as he left that night to go meet his date, he felt cheery. He'd already forgotten about that episode that morning. He put it in the back of his mind. He decided he would contact one of the others at home about it later.

Then, it happened again. He could feel it – his body shifting. It started just with his hand, but Jackson began to panic. He looked around at the busy street, seeing that he wasn't alone. Luckily, no one seemed to be paying any attention to him.

Jackson looked around quickly, and he saw an alley just a block away. He ran as fast as he could, feeling his hands both beginning to spasm, to transform. Finally, just when he thought he wouldn't be able to conceal it, he made it to the alley, running down it and turning to the dark, shady area. No one would see him here.

"Well well, what have we here?" a voice said from behind Jackson, and as he turned slightly, he could see a man approaching him. He looked homely, and rather like a dickhead. "Some poor lost boy come running into me alley. And look at those clothes – my, you look like quite the rich fellow. Tell me, have you any coin to spare?"

"Go away," Jackson growled, and was surprised to hear a rasp to his voice similar to when he became a werewolf. He looked down at his hands, and truly felt horror. One of his hands was like a werewolf's, and the other like the Kanima. "What the hell is going on with me…" he muttered quietly to himself.

"Did you just tell me to go away, boy? Now now now, I don't like that attitude. Not at all. Not one bit," the man replied, getting closer, and Jackson could see a gleam of something silver in his hand. It was a knife. "Give me everything you got, clothes included, and I might just forget everything you said to me. That seems like a fine deal, don't you think."

"Leave now, or I'll make you leave," Jackson growled again, the tension in him rising. He now could feel the shift spreading, feel his face changing, a weird scaly feel coming to it. Fangs were beginning to protrude from his mouth.

"I warned you, boy. Now you'll learn the hard way!" the man shouted, and was about to rush at Jackson just as he had enough.

Jackson stood and faced the stranger, unsure of how he looked, but sure of how his body felt, especially since he could still feel the shift coming.

"What- what- I… you –!" the man sputtered, nearly falling backward onto the ground as he gaped.

"Run. Now," Jackson said, and hissed at the man. The man didn't waste any time. Soon enough, he was gone, and Jackson was alone.

"My, that was rather impressive, Mr. Whitmore," another voice chimed from behind him. Jackson was beginning to grow tired of people sneaking up on him tonight.

As he spun around again, he was greeted by not one stranger, but three. There were three women, who each looked to be in their thirties. The one in the middle was tall and full figured, with ebony skin, red hair in a bun, and a blue suit on. The woman to the left of her was Hispanic-looking, and she wore a red suit. The one to the right appeared to be the youngest and was the shortest. She was Caucasian, and wore a stark black suit.

"Who the hell are you three?" Jackson growled.

"We, like you, are people with exemplary talents," the one in the middle responded, and he knew she was the one who had spoken first. "Ever since you arrived here, we have been watching your activity. After all, you must admit, people like us tend to be quite a handful, especially when such ignorant people are running about in important places, unaware we exist. It makes others like us think they can get away with anything."

"Look, lady, however you are, your whole watching me thing is half-flattering, half-stalkerish, and really, as you can tell, I'm kind of going through something right now," Jackson responded angrily, gesturing at himself. "So if you three could kindly fuck off, that would be great."

If he thought the three women would be offended by such language, they did not appear to be, to his dismay. If anything, they acted as if he hadn't spoken at all.

"I see you are in a bit of a predicament," the one in the middle responded, nodding in mock sympathy. "Let me guess. You're having trouble controlling it – both sides of yourself."

"What do you mean both?" Jackson responded angrily. "I'm a werewolf. I… I'm not this thing anymore."

"Oh, but see, you're both," the woman replied. "Now, just because you can take on the form of a werewolf doesn't specifically make you one. After all, you can also take on the form of a Kanima. Who knows what other potential you have within you."

"I don't care about any of that!" Jackson yelled. "I just want it to stop. I thought it was over. I've been learning to control my werewolf side, but now…"

"We can teach you how to do it," the woman in the middle responded. "We have dealt with much harder and difficult cases than a boy who wasn't sure which direction he wants to go in."

"Are you trying to insinuate something about my sexual preferences?!" Jackson asked incredulously.

"Either way," the woman continued, "we are looking for candidates like you. We can help you. We have a place – a 'school' of sorts. That is, if you are willing to join us."

"Lady, I have known you all of two seconds, and now you want me to join your cult?" Jackson asked. "No thanks. I'll take my chances."

"Please, call me Angela," she said with a smile "We can help you, Jackson. We won't force you to come with us. We are simply offering you a chance – a chance to learn something about yourself, to learn to grow stronger, maybe even use your abilities to help others. We want to change the world. So, what do you say?"

Jackson opened his eyes, and for a minute, all he could see was blinding light. Then, as his eyes began to adjust, and feeling returned to him, he began to take in his familiar surroundings. He began to sit up, but suddenly Leo was right beside him, trying to stop him.

"Whoa, J, you need to calm down. Lie down and rest. You're kind of battered," Leo replied, gesturing at his body.

Jackson looked down, and saw that he was shirtless and covered in bandages. A lot of them. Some seemed to have dry blood on them.

"You were in pretty bad shape when he brought you in here," Deaton said, walking into the room. Jackson knew this room – it was the back room of the veterinarian clinic. He also knew that because McCall volunteered here.

"Scott – he's not," Jackson began, but Leo interrupted him.

"No one else is here. You got a private room all to yourself, buddy," Leo replied.

"Your friend was very adamant about discretion," Deaton replied. "It appears that you don't want anyone knowing you're here?"

"I'd rather not," Jackson replied. "We didn't come here for a visit. We came here for… reasons. If we stay here any longer than we are supposed to… well, it could spell disaster."

"Ah, yes. I might have guessed you two were here as some of the super soldiers I have been hearing about," Deaton replied. "Rumors circulate. I hear you are headed by a rather strong woman named Angela, is it?"

Neither boy answered, but Deaton didn't appear to need one. He seemed satisfied with their silence.

"Anyway, do not worry. I gave Scott the weekend off so you could rest up in peace."

"Weekend?" Jackson asked. "What is today?"

"Sunday," Leo replied. "Turns out, we were in limbo at the Hale house for quite a few days, J. And then, well, you slept a lot because you needed to heal."

"We lost nearly a whole week," Jackson replied. "Angela will–"

"Already got in contact with her. I explained the situation. She's not pleased, but she also understands. We have a new objective, in addition to the original."

"Wonderful," Jackson sighed. He then began to move again, pushing himself off of the table he was on. Leo hesitantly helped him off, as if he was planning on shoving him back on it.

"I really wouldn't recommend leaving so soon, Jackson," Deaton said. "Your injuries may be healing, but push too hard and they will end up back in the same rut they were before."

"We can't stay here any longer," Jackson replied. He then turned to Leo. "Got an idea for where we can set up camp?"

"Yep," Leo replied. "Already found a place. Not a nice place, mind you, but it will do."

Jackson nodded, the turned to Deaton.

"Thank you," he said. "I, uh, don't really think we have actually ever really spoken to each other, but however much this is going to cost –"

"It won't cost anything," Deaton replied. "I'm not a doctor. I'm just a simple veterinarian."

And with that, Deaton left the room, a cryptic smile on his face.

"Every time I talk to that man, I swear he is always hiding a big secret," Leo said suspiciously. "Anyway, let's go. I need to shower, and so do you. We smell like sweat, fear, blood, and sewer, and while I may have been tempted to give you a sponge bath, I decided not to."

Jackson began laughing at that statement, much to Leo's confusion.

"It's nothing," Jackson replied, a grin on his. "It's just, I knew it. I am everybody's type. And, let's go. You're right about the shower thing. Although, I'm going to need you to help me walk."