OK here it is, my first story ever to be published on the net. So please be gentle or I have to cry myself to sleep at night. ;-)

I don't know where this came from or what I'm gonna do with it. I just thought it would be a waste to wait for the next computer crash to kill it.

Enjoy, ….I hope

by the way please note that English is not my first language, if you find any spelling and/or grammatical errors, leave me a massage at the beep or write me a PM so I can correct them.

THX

Disclaimer

Neither the characters not the storyline is mine. I just like to play with it. No money was made from this story. No animals or children were hurt during the writing of this story...

How it all began or Last time on teen wolf

"... I... I helped... I helped save you... you got what you wanted... you got what you wanted... now it's my turn to get what I want!"

And that's exactly what he got. Jackson remembered Derek jumping down the steps, remembered his teeth, the maniacal glint in his eyes, the creepy smile and then pain, unbearable, bone shuddering pain and then nothing! The next thing he remembered was waking up, NAKED, in an unknown bedroom wrapped around an equally naked Stiles with a bleeding Maccal sleeping in a chair next to the bed. What the fuck?... No seriously WHAT THE FUCK...

And here's the part Jackson missed.

Stiles couldn't sleep. He suffered from insomnia since the day the alpha "died". OK so maybe it was less insomnia than a severe case of fear because he was still scared when he thought about all the things that had happened in these last few months, but who could blame him? The teen had hoped, all would be better once Peter was dead, but now that the adrenalin rush had died down and he really thought about what he had seen and done during this time, only one question dominated his thoughts.

"How the fuck am I still alive?"

A beeping from his nightstand interrupted his reminiscence of the past weeks. Looking at the alarm clock next to his phone he saw it was already 3am! Who the hell would send him a message at ass a clock in the morning?

Well not exactly HELL but HALE was similar enough, right? The message was a typical Derek. Commanding, condescending and right to the point.

Stiles

get your bud out of bed, grab Scott and get here, NOW!

Stiles could practically SEE Derek glaring at him through the phone. So maybe Derek wanted so say thank you, for their assistance in killing Peter? Aha sure, and maybe tomorrow a flock of flying pigs would kidnap him and take him to the wicked witch of the west (who might or might not have been cast with Prof. Harris in this particular scenario) who would try get a pair of ruby red slippers out of him. Or in short. A thank you from Derek? Very un – freaking – likely! And, wow, after that train of thought, maybe he should go see a doctor and have his Adderall dosage adapted? Just a thought! Yikes!

But Derek didn't like to be kept waiting and so Stiles grabbed his keys, jumped in his jeep and drove to Scott's house. Luckily the sheriff would be on night shift for the next week and would most likely crash on the couch in office after finishing the paperwork for the Hale arson.

Once at his destination he met with his next challenge. Not getting into Scott's room unnoticed, he had done that about a billion times. No the problem was waking his best friend up. Scott liked his sleep. No, REALLY, Scott LIKED his sleep. J K Rowling possibly thought of him when she made up the Hogwarts motto.

"Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus" or "Let Sleeping dragons(or in Scott's case werewolfs) Lie"

The last time he tried waking up his best friend before noon on a school holiday ended with him having a black eye, a sprained ankle and Scott laying back down sleeping another four hours peacefully before getting up and not remembering one bloody single thing. And now he had those nice sharp nails, that could possibly rip out his throat, without even trying. This was going to be so much fun, NOT! And so, with the very encouraging thought of "fuck my life", he went to work.

His solution was easy yet elegant. It would wake Scott up and hopefully let him stay alive long enough to explain himself, he hoped. Stiles would get Scott's phone, turn up the ringers volume as high as possible, put it on his best friends pillow and than barricade himself in the teenwolfs bathroom, hiding in the tub, call Scott from his own phone and pray really really fast, hoping he'd survive long enough to finally get laid. One could only hope, right? Why is it always me again?

Thankfully no drastic measures were needed, when a grumpy Scott opened his glowing eyes intercepting Stiles's hand and holding it by the wrist in a bone crushing grip

"Stiles? The fuck your doin here?"

"Right now? Thanking all the gods in existence I could wake you without you killing me. And please, could release my wrist so the blood flow can start up again? Thank you, that would be nice." Stiles answered somewhat calmly, starting to massage his hand after his friend had released it.

"OK, explain why you had to risk your life waking me at this godforsaken hour?" Scott replied sounding somewhat irritated.

"Hey calm down! Don't shoot the messenger. His royal alpherness Derek Hale texted me, requesting our presence, IMIDIATLY. Sorry, but I'm as surprised as you are, for seven days not so much as peep and now this summons, something is definitely off. But now get up and get dressed before Derek decides to collect us himself and make's good on all the threats has thrown my way in the last months." Stiles answered shuddering at the thought.

So Scott gave up his resistance and got out of bed and got ready. It's not like he could resist a direct order from his alpha even via text, but Stiles didn't need to know that. Knowing Stiles he would find a way to use that piece of information to his advantage. Or tease him relentless about been pussy and alpha whipped.

The drive to the Hale property was done in absolute silence, possibly because neither of the boys wanted to think about what was in store for them or maybe it was because of the late hour who knew? The sight that greeted them was odd. They had been here hundreds of times but this time something was off. The air was full of foreboding and Scott's stomach turned when he stepped out of the car and smelled blood. He knew that particular scent. But how or why was Jackson here. He couldn't be stupid enough to go through with this, could he. Not after all the hardship he had witnessed? Oh, who was he kidding? This was Jackson we were talking about! Of course he could.

And then it happened! Out of nowhere Derek appeared and bit first Scott, seemingly to subdue him, and before the teen wolf could react Derek had sunken his teeth into Stiles's shoulder and was gone with the wind, whispering, so only Scott could hear him.

"Please be so kind as to take out the "trash" and don't come here again until I tell you to. And take care of these two chuckleheads they're gonna need help." He said laughing manically at the end.

Scott didn't remember much of what happened next. Somehow he collected Stiles and Jackson driving them to the Stilinski residence. Once there he undressed them, because both were soaked in blood down to their boxers, and put them in Stiles's bed before collapsing onto the lazy boy in the left hand corner of the room. Already feeling the change in the boys on the bed. He was to tired notice the gleaming red eyes watching them from two blocks away.