"Why do you wear so many layers?" Peter questioned, slipping Stiles' shirt over his head. Stiles flushed before shrugging.
"Don't know. You don't have to help me dress ya know." Peter simply smiled, holding out a plaid button up. Stiles slid one arm into it and turned before sliding the other in. Peter folded down the collar, fingers lingering at the base of Stiles' neck.
"It's only fair," he murmured, "if I'm going to help you undress later." Stiles swallowed audibly. He pulled a blazer out of the closet at random, letting it dangle from one finger. "It's supposed to be chilly today."
"I'm a werewolf," Stiles said, looking moderately recovered.
"You're wearing the collar," Peter reminded him softly.
"Right," Stiles muttered, teeth clicking. He took the blazer and pulled it on as well. "Do I meet your approval?" he questioned cheekily, arms spread before he spun slowly.
"You look better naked in bed," Peter murmured, "but I suppose you'll do." Stiles flushed beautifully and Peter couldn't help a smile. "Don't want to be late," he murmured, a bit more teasing then.
"Surprisingly enough tardiness has never been high on my list of concerns."
"Ah but now you need to keep from drawing attention to yourself." Peter picked up Stiles' book bag from where he'd dropped it by the door. He offered this to Stiles as well. "So off to school." Stiles pouted.
"What are you going to do all day then?"
"Many scintillating things you would greatly enjoy, such as going to the bank and grocery shopping."
"You're still not funny," Stiles groused.
"I don't have to be." Stiles' forehead puckered. He was right about that.
"Fine, fine," he let out, taking the book bag and jerking it onto his back. "I'll see you later then." Peter cleared his throat as Stiles turned to go. Stiles paused and looked back to see Peter pointing to his cheek. "Wait really?" Stiles demanded, squinting at him. Peter simply arched an eyebrow in response so, with flaming cheeks, Stiles leaned back and pecked his cheek quickly. He rushed out of the room and stumbled down the steps, an idiotic smile on his face and his heart beating just a bit faster.

…

Peter lingered in Stiles' room longer than strictly necessary. It had been a light morning and seeing as the entire room was blanketed in Stiles' scent it was hard to leave it behind. Shaking his head slightly to clear it, he headed out. Peter had only just gotten back to his house when he felt his phone vibrating.
"Hello?"
"Hey," Stiles said, tone hushed, "Jackson's not in school today."
"What?"
"Yeah he's not here," Stiles muttered, "I've got to go." Stiles didn't wait for a response. Peter was back out the door before his phone was back in his pocket. He couldn't seem to get to Jackson's fast enough and though panic hadn't officially set in, it did when he smelled his nephew. He didn't pause to think about the best plan of attack; he jumped up and yanked open the window before sliding through.

…

Jackson groaned softly, head digging into the pillow for a moment. The hand at the base of his neck paused before moving again. He breathed in slowly, keeping his eyes closed.
"Are you…petting me?" Derek didn't respond, giving one more squeeze before his hand dropped away. "No wait, I'll go back to sleep," Jackson muttered, wriggling a bit closer. He didn't risk a glance at Derek and a surprised sigh slipped out when Derek actually continued. He carefully kept his mind blank, only letting himself think about Derek's hand lifting and squeezing his skin. It was soothing. More than anything he knew he didn't want Derek to stop. He couldn't imagine what had prompted it and he didn't care. "Do you think…" he paused, "do you think maybe we could stop fighting?"
"You're supposed to be asleep," Derek reminded him after a long moment.
"Okay," Jackson sighed. The room was perfectly quiet and Jackson wondered how long it could last. Derek shifted slightly, letting Jackson's head fall beneath his chin. Something in Jackson's chest squeezed a bit at that. He tried to ignore it.
"Sometimes…" Derek said before drifting off.
"What?" Jackson questioned. He didn't answer, sliding from the bed and crouching in front of Jackson. Almost…protectively? Jackson barely heard the sound of someone coming up. Jackson hadn't even made it out of bed before Peter was through the window. He dropped into a crouch as well, eyes flaring red as he bared his teeth and snarled. "Wait, don't," he tried.
"What are you doing here?" Peter demanded, totally ignoring him.
"No Pe-" Derek shoved him back without looking.
"I'm with my mate. What are you doing here?" Derek returned, finishing with a growl.
"We both know you don't care about him." Another growl ripped from Derek.
"Can you both quit acting like I'm not here?" Jackson demanded, standing on the bed. They ignored him again.
"If it wasn't for me he'd be dead." Peter jerked back slightly, as if the very idea of Jackson dead hurt him. Jackson softened for a moment.
"What are you talking about?"
"Hunters." Peter straightened, retaining his human form.
"Is this true?" He finally looked to Jackson.
"Don't answer that," Derek snapped, still crouched, still in front of Jackson.

Jackson frowned. He couldn't understand what was happening. Why was Derek… Was he trying to protect Jackson? Was it some sort of power play?
"Jackson," Peter growled, demanding his attention again.
"You can take my word for it," Derek said, straightening slowly. His nails clicked as his hands curled tight. "I'm not the murderer here." Jackson heard Peter's teeth snap together from across the room.
"Would you take my word for it?" Derek shook his head. "Exactly," Peter snarled. "Jackson?"
"Don't answer him," Derek repeated. "You're my mate." He didn't sound smug. Jackson didn't know what he sounded like. He didn't know anything.
"Yes he's your mate so stop making him chose. Answer the question."
"No," Derek insisted again, looking over his shoulder for a split second. His face was totally unreasonable. Jackson couldn't decide whether to scream, cry, or run. It was a horrible splitting feeling in his chest. Literally like each Hale had taken an arm and they were pulling. Peter said yes. Derek said no. There was no middle ground for Jackson to fall to. He couldn't trust Derek…could he? And Peter had taken him in. Peter was his family. Peter had never hurt him. Jackson pressed both hands to his chest, fingertips gripping uselessly. The way Derek held him…
"He's telling the truth," Jackson groaned, gritting his teeth. Derek let lose a short howl, nearly pained and turned before launching himself at Jackson. He pinned him to the wall behind his bed with one hand on his throat.
"You insist on being completely useless!" he snarled, teeth bared. Jackson tried to flinch into the wall, finding no reprieve. He was yanked away and Peter's back took his place. Jackson couldn't help but bring a hand to his neck, trying not to remember how gently Derek had touched him just minutes before.
"Why does it matter if I tell him?" Jackson demanded. Why was he doing this? Jackson gritted his teeth again. Derek surged forward so hard he shoved Peter's body into Jackson's. He ignored Peter's warning snap totally.
"I wantyour loyalty," Derek gritted, eyes blindingly blue. Peter shoved him off, snapping again. The brittle sound echoed in his ears. "You're nothing." Derek said, face contorting before shifting back to human. "I wasted my time on you," he paused, eyes on Peter. Jackson contemplated covering his ears. "I should have just let you die," Derek informed him coldly. "You smell of your other pup Uncle," he muttered carefully after another second. Jackson could smell Stiles on Peter too. He was briefly glad of the distraction. Derek looked to Jackson again. For a moment Jackson felt searing heat coming from Derek. He flinched. It vanished after another moment and somehow that felt worse. "I would pick the runt. You're worthless," he finished. Jackson closed his eyes, sagging.
"Don't listen to him," Peter said, turning and taking him by the shoulders gently. "He hates me, not you." Jackson nodded weakly. Peter had to say that and he knew it. He was okay with that. Family has to lie to you. Stiles would do the same. His heart twisted as he looked up. He didn't fit. Maybe he never really had.

A/N: I feel like it has been FOREVER since I updated. I really am sorry. But I did know this was going to happen, school has been keeping me very busy. As it is I stayed up much too late to finish this. What I really mean to say is that I really appreciate your patience.

And I know Derek is being douchey again but…well…I don't want to spoil anything….

Oh and don't worry, the angst train is coming soon for Halinski too. They've been relatively fluffy so far… Hm.

Anyways. I feel like there was something I meant to tell you… Now I can't remember. A sure sign I need sleep.

Sorry for another long note.

Thanks. :)