"Are you done being creepy and pretending to be asleep?' Stiles finally ground out, glaring at Jackson, who opened his eyes and glared right back at him.
"How the hell did you know I was faking?"
"I might not be a werewolf like some people, but I have been trained, at least partially, by the League of Assassins. I did actually learn some things during that training. Knowing when someone is doing a shit job of fake sleeping is one of those things.
"Oh…somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed," Jackson smirked, and Stiles bit back the retort that had been on the tip of his tongue.
"It's nice to see that you've matured over time," he offered in reply, and Jackson glared at him as he sat up.
"Likewise," he growled out, before he strutted off to the bathroom. Stiles sat on his bed and waited for Jackson to return. He hadn't initially planned on snapping at Jackson…these days had had a pretty tight grip on things emotionally speaking, but being around Jackson had begun to bring up memories that Stiles would rather forget.
Being around Jackson after so many years was proving to be a painful reminder about those Stiles left behind in Beacon Hills…and how much he missed them all. His dad, Scott, Lydia, Derek, Melissa…even Danny, Isaac and Kira. Over the years Stiles had tried to avoid remembering them, knowing how painful it was (although he'd never been very good at no thinking about those left behind in Beacon Hills) but now that he was with Jackson it was even worse.
Stiles was so lost in his thoughts that he startled violently when he heard Jackson opening the bathroom door, scowling when he saw Jackson's smirk.
"Nice to see that some things never change. Still an uncoordinated spazz."
"I had you in my sight last night," Stiles replied, "If I had been an enemy then you would be dead."
Jackson snapped his mouth shut as Stiles got to his feet and grabbed a clean change of clothes out of his duffle, heading to the bathroom himself, although Stiles could almost feel Jackson's glare on the back of his head the whole time until the door closed.
Stiles showered quickly, the long years with the league teaching him to limit the time he was in such a vulnerable position, dressing in his civilian clothing, which felt strange against his skin. At Nanda Parbat he'd almost exclusively worn his training gear, or sometimes his full combat gear, ready for any sudden attack. He could get way with wearing his protective gear at nighttime in Starling City, but during the day it was too risky.
Still, the dark cargo pants and the plain t-shirt and jacket he was wearing was a far cry from the clothing he had favored back before he and Sara had been taken in by the league, and as Stiles looked in the bathroom mirror he could barely recognize himself as the awkward, nerdy kid from Beacon Hills.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Stiles braced himself against the sink and let his head drop forward, taking a moment to regroup and get a control of himself again, refusing to let Jackson, of all people, see how much being back with a member of his old pack was affecting him.
"Stilinski, you better not have passed out and hit your head or something in there," Jackson bellowed after a few minutes passed, and Stiles exhaled shakily, a thin smile crossing his face as he straightened up and walked out of the room, chucking the shorts he'd slept in back into his duffle.
"You got plans or something, Jackson? A date to get to, maybe."
"I would prefer not having to waste my entire Saturday waiting for your slow ass to get itself ready."Jackson grunted, rising to his feet, "Come on, Oliver will be expecting us."
Stiles did another quick check of the room, making sure everything that he didn't want found was hidden, and that all of the windows were securely locked, before he followed Jackson out of the room and shut and locked the door behind him.
"So…is there a reason that you changed your opinion on Tattoos?' Jackson asked as they walked.
Stiles shrugged, "I didn't want to forget," he admitted, "and I wanted my body to have marks on it that weren't scars. Marks that I chose to put there, that meant something…that represented a part of me and my history. Not everything that happened in Beacon Hills was bad."
"Fair enough," Jackson nodded, "Not scarring is one of the advantages of being…like me. The only issue with it is when your girlfriend doesn't know about what you are, and sees you get stabbed, and then you have no scar."
Stiles cringed, "When did you get stabbed?"
"Couple of years ago…and the girlfriend in question is Oliver's sister."
"You dated Thea? Are you nuts?" Stiles gasped as they began going down the stairs, "How are you still alive? How did Oliver not murder you?"
"To be honest, I'm still not sure," Jackson replied, "Thea and I…we're not together any more…but when we were together I lost track of how many lectures about looking after her I got given…not to mention there were quite a few times when Oliver was a bit enthusiastic about training…not that he ever really hurt me."
"How did Oliver take the break up?" Stiles asked curiously.
Jackson shrugged, "she was the one who broke up with me…and it was about hiding the truth about what I was doing while helping Oliver out at night time, so he was actually really nice about it."
"One time, on the island," Stiles began with a smile, "before Sara came back, and Slade went crazy, Oliver wasn't trying real hard with his archery training, and I told him, in front of Shado and Slade, to pretend that he was aiming at the dick of a guy who he had busted sleeping with Thea. He didn't miss at all for the rest of the day. Slade thought it was hysterical. I never thought the guy that I was asking Oliver to imagine was you."
"I actually only met Thea about six or seven months after Oliver came back," Jackson corrected, "So if you were telling him that on the Island it definitely wasn't me that was sleeping with Thea then."
"Touché," Stiles conceded as they finally reached the small, grubby hotel lobby and crossed to the main doors, letting themselves out onto the street. Stiles followed Jackson along the footpath, until they reached Jackson's car.
"A bit of the let down from the Porsche," Stiles commented lightly as Jackson unlocked the car and they both got in.
"Anything would be a letdown from that car. I wonder if now that Oliver knows that I was a wealthy kid he'll let my ride his bike."
"How's he going to know that you were wealthy?"
"Felicity," Jackson replied with a shrug as the car engine spluttered to life, "you can guarantee that by the time we got to the hotel last night Felicity had found out as much as she can using technology about me. She makes what Danny used to be able to do look like baby stuff, but don't tell him I said that. He's learned a lot of tricks over the last few years. I don't want to end up even more broke than I am already."
"I've heard rumors about the Starling City vigilante's hacker. Nyssa was very impressed by her."
"Felicity took a bullet for Sara once, so that would probably add to why Nyssa was so impressed." Jackson said as he began to drive towards Verdant.
"What do you think Danny would do if he ever met her?"
"Probably freak out," Jackson admitted with a smirk, "A couple of times in our emails I've hinted that I know someone who could be considered a hacker. He's getting curious. If he found out that I knew the Starling City' Vigilante's hacker he'd be on the first plane out to Starling City so he could meet her. Actually, the idea of them meeting kind of intimidates the hell out of me. Imagine if Lydia ever joined them…"
"They'd take over the world," Stiles nodded in agreement, "I've always thought that Lydia would be capable of doing it on her own, but if you have her working alongside Danny, and then just from the rumors I've heard about Felicity. They'd be unstoppable."
Stiles surprised himself when he chuckled in amusement at the very thought. It had been such a long time since he'd thought he would ever find anything genuinely funny again. What surprised him even more was the fact that it was Jackson Whittemore that had inspired his laughter.
"When was the last time you saw Lydia. You said last night that she'd want to kill us both. What did you do to piss her off?"
Jackson cringed visibly, "I, um, might have faked my death, and not told her about it. The only one who knows the truth is Danny."
"You WHAT?" Stiles exclaimed, "She's going to kill you if she ever sees you again…and Danny. What the hell did you do?"
"I told them I was going on a road trip, once things had settled down a bit after the Queen's Gambit went down. I'd already organized new Identity papers with Danny, so I took everything with me. I headed into an area with a lot of hunter activity and ditched my car, leaving everything behind except the new identity papers. Eventually the pack came to the conclusion that I'd been taken out by hunters, that I was vulnerable and alone and they took advantage. I didn't really have pack bonds tying me to Beacon Hills anymore, not since I went to London, so it wasn't as though they would have had to go through breaking pack bonds."
"If you weren't driving I would hit you," Stiles scowled, "Lydia had already lost Allison and Aidan, she didn't need you being a douche and running away again with your tail between your legs."
Stiles was expecting Jackson to defend himself, but instead the werewolf sighed sadly, "I know," he admitted, "I…I always treated Lydia badly, and I know I abandoned her when she still needed me, after losing Allison and Aidan and you, but I knew I didn't belong in Beacon Hills. I thought that Lydia would move on better if I wasn't there, a physical reminder of everything…before, but I knew later that was just me trying to justify what I did to her. I know I should go back and tell her that I'm alive, but I don't want her to hate me."
"I can't say that she won't, but she doesn't deserve what you did to her. She deserves the truth."
"I know. And it should be from me, in person. When I was dating Thea, and the press was following her around, I was worried that one of them would get a picture of me and then Lydia would see it and find out from them. I was convinced that one day she was going to walk into verdant and slap me across the face…or shoot me with a wolfsbane bullet, although I know I deserve both of those," Jackson sighed.
"She wouldn't kill you," Stiles pointed out, "she's a Banshee, I think she's dealt with enough death over the years."
Jackson nodded in agreement.
"Are you going to tell Oliver about werewolves?" Stiles asked after a drawn out silence.
Jackson sighed and shifted in his seat as he stopped at a red light, "I've been considering doing it for a while. He's going to chuck a fit about me endangering Thea, but…but it's only going to be a matter of time we came across some other supernatural creature and they ousted me, or I slipped up and did something that I shouldn't be able to do. Not that long ago I got dosed with Mirakuru. He would think that that happened again.
Stiles flinched, "Nyssa told me about Slade and the Mirakuru army. How does Mirakuru go in combination with werewolf powers?"
"It weakened the wolf. If the Mirakuru hadn't made me strong in it's own way then I think I would've been back to human level strength. The only reason I knew that the Mirakuru was getting out of my system was the fact that my wolf was getting strong again and I started being more focused on being a member of a pack…Oliver's pack."
"Have you had many issues with hunters? Derek always used to say how omega werewolves are vulnerable and are often targeted by hunters."
"Not too many problems. Most wolves steer clear of big cities; it can be very overwhelming on the senses and the fact that there is not much in the way of natural habitat, so hunters don't usually go to big cities like Starling City very often unless there's a reason, and I've kept a low profile. That being said I have had a few minor issues since I come to Starling City, but none of them have ended in a fatality."
"Well, that's something," Stiles offered optimistically, "so, how were you going to drop the 'I am a werewolf' bombshell on Oliver and company."
"I couldn't ever settle on what to say," Jackson admitted, ignoring Stiles' pun, "Oliver doesn't know about the supernatural…not that he's let on anyway, so I don't even know if he'd believe me."
"You could always just blame me for everything," Stiles shrugged as Jackson parked in the alleyway beside Verdant, "I was the one who dragged Scott out that night looking for the other half of Laura Hale's body, and the only reason you got involved was because Scott all of a sudden was better at you at lacrosse and you couldn't handle that."
Jackson turned in his seat and glared at Stiles, "Yes, thank you for reminding me of that and how much of an ass I was as a teenager."
"You're welcome," Stiles relied cheerfully, "but, in all seriousness, if there is a time when the supernatural comes to Starling City…give me a call, if I'm not here already. I know I've been out of the game as far as supernatural creatures go for awhile, but I've still got more experience fighting the supernatural than anyone else here that we know about."
Jackson couldn't help but be a little touched by Stiles' comment. From what Stiles had said Jackson was fairly sure that this was the first time Stiles had really been free since before the nogitsune. He'd been possessed by the demonic Fox, chased across the world by his own demons and guilt, stranded on an island, and then taken in by the league of assassins, of all people, who hadn't let him return to his homeland for years. Stiles hadn't even returned to Beacon Hills yet, and here he was, promising to help Jackson protect Starling City from a supernatural threat. Considering that, realistically, Stiles had no actual ties to Beacon Hills, other than Oliver and the Lance family, and his own history with Jackson had been tetchy, at best, and downright hostile most of the time, Stiles' offer was a big deal.
The pair fell into a silence as Jackson drove the rest of the way to the foundry, each of them occupied by their own thoughts. Jackson focused on thinking of ways he could tell Oliver and the others the truth about his supernatural status. He'd been content to keep it a secret for so long, but Stiles' reappearance had made him put some more consideration and thought into the idea. It would also be easier to explain if Stiles was there to back him up for that particular conversation. Not knowing how long Stiles would linger in town before he headed south to beacon Hills meant that if he was going to take advantage of Stiles' presence, meant that he would have to get on with it.
Stiles, for his part, though about how much the man sitting beside him differed from the Jackson Whittemore he'd grown up alongside. If someone had asked him, a couple of days ago, what he'd though Jackson would be like these days, Stiles would probably have described Oliver as he'd been before the Queen's Gambit went down. In many ways Roy Harper and Jackson Whittemore were two very different people, and Stiles respected that.
It didn't take long before Jackson parked in his usual spot at the back of Verdant. Jackson and Stiles got out of the car, and Jackson made sure to double check that he locked it. Despite the Foundry being the base of operations for the Starling City Vigilante, the area around it was still a crime hotspot, and Jackson didn't have the resources financially that he had as a teenager, when he'd driven his Porsche around.
The car secured, Jackson led Stiles to the secret back door, and let him in, closing the door behind them as they descended into the basement. Unsurprisingly, Oliver, Felicity, Sara and Diggle were all already there. Felicity was at her desk, Oliver was working on the salmon ladder, while Sara and Diggle sparred on the mats. All eyes, however, were on the pair as they made their way downstairs.
"Well, they're both still alive…that's a good sign," Felicity observed with a smile. Oliver began descending, the rhythmic clanking of the salmon ladder echoing in the large basement room.
Sara and Diggle, for their part, stopped sparring, rising to their feet and approaching the bottom of the stairs, grabbing towels along the way.
"You boys play nicely?" Sara asked with a smirk, wiping sweat from her face.
"Sara…I always play nicely," Stiles replied with a cheeky grin. Jackson and Sara both snorted in disbelief at the comment.
"What?" Stiles asked with mock innocence, as Oliver dropped down from the salmon ladder, ignoring the appreciative look Felicity gave his bare chest before he slipped a shirt on.
"I hope you two took the chance to catch up with one another," Oliver told them.
"Yeah, we did a bit," Jackson nodded "Still a lot more to catch up on though."
"I'm sure there will be plenty of time for that. How long are you going to be in town for, Stiles?" Diggle asked conversationally.
"I'm not sure, couple of days, at least," Stiles shrugged, "I haven't decided yet whether or not I'm going to check in back home, make sure my Dad is ok."
"I'm sure your Dad would love to see you Stiles." Sara offered, "It felt so good when I saw my Dad again, after so long. It's your choice, of course, but…but I think you should go see him. Besides, you're one of Ra's favorites, he's not going to do anything to endanger his relationship with you."
"Relationship…you didn't mention that," Jackson teased. Stiles went red, and Jackson smirked, a sense of satisfaction washing over him at the knowledge that he could still do that, if he wanted to.
"Oh, God no, ew, Jackson, that's disgusting. Not like that, just, yeah, no." Stiles shouted.
"Sorry, bad choice of words on my part," Sara apologized.
"I forgot to ask last night…what do the league call you?' Oliver asked.
Stiles blinked, "It's kind of long winded. The league calls me Al ththaelib Aldhy yudir mae al dhdhiab."
"The fox who runs with wolves," Sara translated.
Jackson coughed, "seriously?" he asked in surprise, "The fox who runs with wolves? Did you pick that or..."
Stiles shrugged, "I picked the wolf part. Ra's...he said from the start that I was a fox. He thought that the bit about wolves was funny...that I was referring to the league...that it was a statement of loyalty on my part to the league."
"Isn't it?" Oliver asked.
Stiles shook his head, "Kind of an inside joke...with my friends back in Beacon Hills," he explained. Jackson nodded in agreement to back up Stiles' story. In fact Stiles had provided a good lead in for that particular conversation...the one that Jackson had been dreading since the moment that Oliver revealed his identity as the Green Arrow. As if he could read Jackson's thoughts, Stiles gave him an encouraging nod.
Reassured by Stiles' gesture, Jackson took a steadying breath, "Um...the thing is...the wolf joke...and Stiles being the one who ran with wolves...there's actually a story behind it...one that is the reason why...why we both left Beacon Hills, and what we were both involved in." Everyone's attention moved to Jackson, who shifted nervously under their scrupulous gaze.
"Last night, when Oliver asked if what were involved in was Gang related...he wasn't all that wrong. We weren't in a gang...but we were in a pack."
"A pack...of wolves?" Diggle sarcastically observed.
Jackson rolled his shoulders slightly, "No...werewolves. The vast majority of the people that we hung out with are or were werewolves."
"Werewolves?" Felicity choked out, "As in...turns into a wolf on a full moon and kills people?"
"Full shifts are difficult as all hell to pull off, and I have actually never done it, but in essence yes," Jackson admitted, "and we did try and keep the fatalities to the bare minimum."
"Did you know about this?" Oliver asked Stiles.
"Pfft," Snorted Stiles, "I've known about this for longer than Jackson has."
"How many are we talking about?" Sara asked curiously. Jackson did a mental headcount.
"At our peak I think we had seven werewolves, a banshee and two humans, but it flocculated."
"I was one of the humans," Stiles added.
"I'm one of the seven werewolves," Jackson sighed. The effect was instantaneous. Felicity gasped and lifted her hand to her mouth in shock, while Diggle took an instinctive step away from Jackson, placing himself between Jackson and Felicity. Oliver and Sara didn't move, but Jackson observed how they both visibly tensed.
"And you never saw fit to tell me about this before now?" Oliver practically growled.
"There wasn't any danger. I have it under control...I have had it under control for years, well before I met any of you," Jackson explained, keeping his tone calm and level.
"Is there some way you can prove it?" Sara asked, 'It's not that I don't believe you, but it might make it easier for everyone."
"Did you know about this?" Oliver asked Sara.
"Nyssa told me, years ago, that the supernatural was real, that werewolves, shape shifters, demons...druids, banshees, that they were all real. The league has a unit that deal with some supernatural threats, but I didn't do much with them, they tended to keep to themselves."
"Can you prove it?" Diggle asked Jackson, "I, for one, want to see some proof."
"Fine," Jackson shrugged, "just don't freak out...or shoot me."
Without saying anything more, he shifted fully into his beta form. He'd never mastered the full shift, like Derek, apparently, had (according to Danny), but Jackson had seen his beta reflection enough times to know that it did make him look a lot different.
"Oh my God...and you're still in complete control?" Sara asked stepping forward curiously and taking Jackson's hand in her own, inspecting his claws.
"Yes," Jackson replied, cringing at how different his voice sounded. He rarely spoke in his beta form, and it was strange to speak with his teeth elongated.
Felicity side stepped around Diggle and approached Roy, taking in his facial features.
"Does it hurt?"
"No, not really," Jackson replied, "and what little pain there is…it doesn't last long."
Jackson's eyes fell on Oliver, and he cringed as he saw the hurt and betrayal on the older man's face.
"I'm sorry I never told you. I didn't think you would believe me. I thought that you would kick me out...chase me out of the city."
"Were you always like this?" Oliver asked. Jackson shook his head, his voice faltering and failing him. Stiles, however, was able to step up.
"No...for the first sixteen years of his life he was normal. What happened...it's really all my fault."
"I thought he said you were human."
"I am human," Stiles replied, "but...the thing is...I was the one that started everything. What happened to Jackson was my fault."
"I don't know, I think we can trace the blame back to Gerard and Kate," Jackson offered, " or even Peter Hale."
Stiles shrugged, "maybe, but that's a debate for another time. Long story short...I drag my best friend Scott out into woods to find a dead body that I'd heard about eavesdropping on my dad's radio. Scott gets bitten by Alpha werewolf Peter Hale, who is crazy. Derek Hale, Peter's nephew comes to town...I figure out that Scott is werewolf, Scott gets mysteriously very good at Lacrosse overnight, Jackson gets jealous of Scott's new talent, tries to find out what's going on, eventually Peter Hale attacks Lydia, Jackson's on and off girlfriend, we help wound Peter, Derek kills Peter and becomes Alpha, Jackson gets bite from Derek so that he's back to being best Lacrosse player, only it doesn't work the way it should. Jackson becomes Kamina, which is a weird lizard snake thing with paralytic slime. Jackson is controlled by Matt, kills some people, tries to kill Derek and I, Gerard kills Matt, assumes control of Jackson, makes Jackson kill himself, Lydia and I hit Jackson with my car, Jackson comes back as blue eyed werewolf."
A stunned silence stretched out after Stiles' condensed account of events. Jackson knew that, at some point, Felicity would hound him for further details, but she would only get the chance to do that if Oliver didn't kick him out.
"You...asked to be like this?" Diggle eventually asked.
Jackson shrugged, "I'm not proud of the person I was back then. My motives were...wrong."
"I'll say," Stiles snorted. Jackson growled at him playfully, baring his teeth and flashing his eyes. Stiles just rolled his eyed at him and flicked Jackson on the nose. Jackosn jerked back, glaring at Stiles and rubbing his nose gently, before he turned his attention to Oliver.
"Oliver, look, I'm sorry I never told you anything. I swear, I haven't used my powers to kill anyone since I became a werewolf. I've kept my head down; there is no reason for anyone from the supernatural world to come after me," Jackson explained.
"Powers?" Felicity asked curiously.
"Strength, better than human healing, the claws, all of my senses are better than normal," Jackson explained.
"Can you guys give us a minute please?" Oliver finally spoke, rubbing a weary hand over his face. Jackson unconsciously bit his lip, his features going back to human, oblivious to the concerned looks that Stiles, Diggle, Felicity and Sara were shooting between him and Oliver.
"I think I need to go upstairs and have a drink," Diggle suggested, and Felicity and Sara nodded, Sara grabbing Stiles by the arm and pulling him along as they left Oliver and Jackson alone in the Foundry. Jackson avoided looking in Oliver's eyes, shifting his weight nervously as he resolutely looked around the entire room, except for the spot where the older man was standing.
"I'm sorry..." Jackson began, but he stopped when he heard Oliver step forward.
"Would you have ever told the truth to us...to Thea, if Stiles hadn't arrived in Starling City? Would you have kept us in the dark, even if there was a risk, if you or those around you were being targeted?"
"Yes," Jackson explained without hesitation, "And, if a time came when my powers would have come in handy, then I would have told you then."
"Roy...have you been holding back because you're worried about being found out."
"When we've sparred, yes," Jackson admitted, "I...I didn't want to tell you because...because I didn't think you would believe me...that you'd think I was lying...that I was dangerous. I didn't think you would listen."
"How long have you been a werewolf?"
"Just over seven years," Jackson replied, still avoiding meeting Oliver's gaze.
When Oliver next spoke, his tone was softer and less angry, "and have you ever told anyone about it?"
"No," Jackson admitted, "Everyone that knows either saw it happen, or figured it out for themselves."
Jackson stiffened as he heard Oliver sigh, before startling slightly when Oliver put his hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not angry with you, Roy. I know how hard it can be to tell a secret about our past when you've kept it for so long. I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't trust me with it...that I wouldn't believe you...although...if you'd changed like you did earlier it would have been difficult to deny."
"I...I didn't want to get kicked out," explained Jackson,"I don't have anyone else. Even though you guys are all human...you're the closest thing to pack I have."
"Pack?" Oliver asked curiously.
Shrugging, Jackson began to explain, "Stiles probably knows more about this than I do, he did a lot of reading about Pack hierarchy and all that back...back before I left Beacon Hills. Werewolves...most werewolves live in packs. Each pack has an Alpha...a leader. Alpha have red eyes when they're shifted, and are stronger, faster healers, and have better senses than any other sort of werewolf. Alphas are also the only ones who can turn a human into a werewolf. The larger the pack of Werewolves, the stronger the Alpha is. The Alpha leads the rest of the pack, who are all Betas. Betas either have blue or gold eyes, when shifted, and, even though they aren't as strong...in any way, than the Alpha, they're all stronger than Omegas. The more Betas in a pack, the stronger they are. The way the pack works together makes a difference too. If the pack is well balanced in terms of personalities and the like, they're stronger than a pack which isn't very balanced...which is very difficult when a pack is mostly made up of bitten teenagers who are as a group, in hindsight, pretty stupid. Then there are Omegas. Unlike Alphas or Betas, Omegas don't have a pack, either by their own choice, their pack kicking them out, or the rest of the pack has been killed. Omegas aren't as strong as other werewolves, and because they don't belong in a pack, they're vulnerable to threats. Werewolves are pack animals, they like being with other werewolves, they need to be around those they consider to be pack. Omegas don't have that, and in a lot of cases the isolation can very easily push an omega over the edge and they'll lose control...or they'll go insane. That's where the old horror movie cliché werewolf comes in. No control, just the mindless desire to kill. Once a werewolf reaches that point...it's only a matter of time before a hunter catches on and they get...put down."
"And what are you?" Oliver questioned.
"I used to know, now I don't" Jackson admitted, "I was Omega at one point, for a long time I was. I...I never got to the point of losing control or hurting anybody, but there were days were...were I thought about ending it. At some point though...I started feeling more like a beta again...probably more like a beta than I ever have before...like I'd found a pack I belonged to...that I had an alpha who cared."
"When did that happen?" Oliver asked.
Jackson looked up at Oliver's face, fighting the urge to expose his neck to the older man, "have a guess," he replied.
"But...but I'm not a werewolf."
"I know that, and my inner wolf knows that, but it doesn't change the fact that instead of being an Omega, I'm thinking more and more like a beta each day. It's why I didn't want you to know. I thought you would freak out and kick me out and I'd be an omega again. I...I don't want to go back to that."
"Who...who else do you consider...pack?" Oliver asked after a moment, faltering over the unfamiliar words.
"You, Felicity, Diggle, Thea, Sara, Sin, maybe Laurel, Danny, my hacker friend back in Beacon Hills, Lydia, who probably hates me...and surprisingly after all this time. Stiles...which is weird on many levels."
"Weird...Jackson, we're talking about werewolves...this whole conversation is weird, no offence"
Jackson leaned against one of the salmon ladder poles, "I haven't seen Stiles in just under seven years, not since I left Beacon Hills the first time...and yet, last night, when I saw him, my wolf went nuts in my head wanting to get near him and be near him because he was a pack mate."
"I thought you liked girls?" Oliver frowned in confusion. Jackson violently recoiled.
"What, no, not like that, Stilinski? Ew, no, never. Pack mate, not actual mate. Big difference."
"Sorry," Oliver offered, although Jackson could tell that the older man was amused by his reaction.
"Besides, "I think Sara would kill me if I went near Stiles," Jackson added with a grin.
"You might be right there," Oliver chuckled, before a thoughtful frown crossed his face, "Do you know the truth about what happened to Stiles before he came to Starling city...before the Gambit?"
Jackson hesitated, "Only what I've been told," he replied honestly, "I was in England when all that went down. I only came back to the states when the news broke about how Stiles was on the Gambit. I know you're kind of my Alpha, but I...I can't tell you, it's his history."
"I wasn't going to ask you to," Oliver replied immediately, "I was actually going to ask if there was anything that you, or I, could do to help."
Jackson sighed, flicking his gaze up to the door that Stiles and the others had disappeared to, "No," he admitted, "I think the ones that could help him the best are thousands of miles away...and I can't figure out if he wants to go there or not."
Oliver didn't say anything in reply, but Jackson knew that Oliver knew where, and who, he was referring to.
"If he did decide to go back...would you go with him?" Oliver eventually asked. Jackson thought about it. When he'd left (run away, realistically, if he was being honest with himself) the second time he'd promised himself that he wouldn't ever go back unless Danny told him the pack were desperate for aid, and that Jackson's presence would be useful. Times had changed, and Jackson felt that he had grown as a person. He and Stiles had a lot in common, in terms of their history. They both knew about the supernatural, they'd both been controlled, he by Matt and Gerard when he was a kanima, Stiles by the Nogitsune. They both then eventually went on to adopt vigilante lifestyles, with the sort of training and personal issues that brings. Although Jackson hadn't had much to do with the league, he was close to Sara, and he knew Nyssa, so he understood some of what Stiles had experienced while he was with the league.
It was kind of brutally ironic to realise that of anyone else on the planet, the person he had the most in common with was Stiles Stilinski, the boy who he had bullied and terrorised in his childhood and teenaged years. Even though they'd only just recently met up once again after a long separation, Jackson felt a sort of connection to the other teenager...a pack tie.
"If Stiles wanted me to, then I would go with him," he eventually told Oliver, "I...I made a mistake when I left...ran away...the last time. I need to go and apologise and...and fix some things."
A proud smile crossed Oliver's face, and he reached out, resting his hand on Jackson's shoulder, "If you want I'll go with you. I know facing your past can be...difficult."
"Thanks, but I think Stiles and I will be able to handle it, if we go. Besides...I don't think that the rest of the Beacon Hills pack will be able to handle the entire gang arriving in town. I don't think Beacon Hills could handle that."
Oliver chuckled to himself, "Whatever you say...Now...do you want to give me a few more details about the story of how you came to be a werewolf."
Jackson nodded, and sat down in one of the chairs near the computers, mindful not to sit in Felicity's, grateful when Oliver followed his lead. It was going to take awhile.