Keep Walking

even if the way is unclear

When he opens the door, he can't see a thing. The windows are shut, the air a dense, warm thing, suffocating with the scent of sweat and days old food.

Stiles takes a deep breath and gets in, shutting the door behind him, and turning on the light.

"Jackson?" he calls once, mostly talking to the bump in the bed, which moves a little and whines quietly when he speaks, "Jackson, can you hear me? Are you even awake?" he says again, coming closer to the bed.

Now what? Is Jackson being a brat, or is this something real? Is he really feeling as miserable as he sounds?

When he finally gets to the bed, he pulls the comforter off the lump in the bed, and is honestly surprised by what he sees.

Jackson does look miserable. If this is him being a brat or an actually effect of whatever is up with the mate thing is still up to debate.

"Come on, Jackson" Stiles says again, exasperated. Jackson finally deigns to open his eyes, and he stares at Stiles fixedly – his eyes aren't normal either, they're not only blue, they're electric blue and glowing.

No other sign of him wolfing out, though.

They look at each other for a few seconds, and Jackson takes in a deep breath, as if trying to discern smells in the air.

"You're really here" he says, his voice completely impassive.

"Yeah, I'm really here. To talk. To you, you know. But I'm not talking in this room with this… air" Stiles comments, waving his arms around to show his displeasure at the air, "Hell, if I can barely breathe in this, how can you stand it. Aren't you supposed to have some kind of super sniffing abilities now?"

He goes to the window and opens the drapes and the window, letting the fresh air in. When he turns back to the bed, Jackson is actually sitting up – he's wearing an old shirt Stiles is quite sure no one would ever catch him dead in if he was feeling okay, and sweat pants.

Okay. Maybe his vanishing for five days hadn't been exactly fair to Jackson.

But, well, he kind of deserved it at the time.

They stare at each other again – Jackson's hands are grabbing the edge of the comforter that hadn't fallen to the floor yet, and he keeps swallowing hard, as if fighting some urge.

Probably the urge to come and bite Stiles's head off.

"What you did was completely out of the line," Stiles finally says, when it becomes evident Jackson won't be starting this particular conversation, "You disregarded my feelings on the matter, you went against everything I told you I didn't want to do, and you purposefully misunderstood me when I said I didn't want to get bitten, and that my dad didn't know. You're not stupid. You didn't really think you would get me to agree to it just because my dad knew of it. What were you trying to accomplish, Jackson? My being mad at you? Because, well, it sort of worked marvelously then."

Jackson stares at him some more, apparently not daring to open his mouth. He hasn't said anything since his 'you're really here'.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?" Stiles prods and Jackson's eyes glow once more.

"I dreamed you were here. The few first times, I actually thought you were, and then I started trying to smell you out, and then it wasn't you, just this… thing. In my head. I called Derek, and he said it wasn't normal, but it did happen, when, well, when someone's claimed mate rejected them. He said to give you time, and he kept forbidding me from seeking you out. He said that when you were ready, you'd come to me. And it took you five days" his voice had started out as hurt, but now it's completely mad at Stiles, and he feels a chill of fear, before he remembers Derek's words.

Jackson couldn't hurt him. He wouldn't'.

Derek said so.

Jackson just needed to be aware of it, apparently, because by the whole growling thing he hadn't gotten this particular memo.

"It should have taken me longer, but I'm a soft hearted young man" he replies, and Jackson's eyes start doing the glow-y thing again.

"Longer?" he growls – but, strangely enough, doesn't make a single move to get out of bed.

"After you went behind my back and did something I didn't want to do? After you threatened me, and made me spend a whole night awake, wondering if you were going to kill me in the morning? After you implied you could kill everyone I care about? After you made your parents to go and talk to my dad before I even realized what was really going on? After you almost killed a kid because he stumbled? After I finally realized how completely fucked up this is? Yeah, it should have taken me more than five days to come after you" Stiles accuses, his tone dry and angry.

Jackson, still in bed, looks down. He doesn't look sorry or even apologetic, but he's strangely quiet.

"We need to fix this, Jackson" Stiles says again, his voice quiet, "I don't want to have killed, honestly, but I refuse to live like this."

"Like this what, Stiles? Yeah, I fucked up, it happens, okay? It's not like you'll never make a mistake in this thing we have, as if you're always going to be perfect. I'll try not to go behind your back anymore. And those things I did at the beginning, you know it was only because you stayed away for too long, it was because my wolf was all out of sorts. I was… wrong. It won't happen again."

"That's all you can think that it's wrong in this? Seriously? It won't happen again, and you think things will magically work out?"

"What else is there, damn it?!" he finally exclaims in his snappy, normal voice, staring at Stiles – his eyes a normal color.

"How about the fact that I can't stand you? Or that you broke up with Lydia less than a month ago, after she saved you? How about the fact that you can't stand me either, and that we have nothing in common, except, perhaps, the Lacrosse team, in which you're the captain, and I'm the bench warmer? Have you seriously not thought of this as a problem? Any of this? Fuck, Jackson, this is the rest of our lives we're talking about, not a hook up over a weekend, that'll go away as soon as wish it to!"

"We don't have to keep on reliving the freaking past every time we try to make this thing—"

"HELL WE DON'T!" Stiles stops him, getting up from the bed, and glaring for all he's worth, "I don't know how your parents have dealt with you while you were growing up, I also don't know what kind of relationship you had with Lydia, because, honestly, I don't want to know. Ever. But we do need to take this shit seriously, and to fix whatever problem we might come to have in the future, we do need to begin at a better place than you despising me, and me hating you. This is not how a relationship is supposed to work!"

"What the hell do you know about a relationship? You've never even had one!" Jackson finally gets up again, and his fists are closed by his side, as if he's afraid that if he moves them, he'll start tearing things apart, "You should be grateful my wolf picked you for my mate as I did, because now you have someone, as opposed to your miserable life from before when you were destined to die alone when Scott got Allison back, and ditched you for Isaac and Derek's pack! You weren't good enough for anyone, you should be thanking every deity in existence you have me."

Stiles stares at Jackson, his mouth actually hanging open for about a whole minute as the blonde takes in big gulps of air.

How long has Jackson been holding that one out?

"You complete asshole" Stiles whispers, and walks to the door.

"Where are you going?"

The boy actually stops and laughs – bitter and broken and so completely hollow he can see Jackson taking a step back.

"Anywhere far away from you."

"What? You can come in here, and talk crap about me, but you can't accept when I do the same? You can dish it out, but you can't take it, Stilinski?"

Stiles stops, his hand on the doorknob, and he tries to take in a deep breath, but he's just so completely mad right now, he doesn't think he can.

This is different.

This isn't fear inducing, or saddening. This isn't even something that would make him want to curl up and die, or be disappointed in himself.

Oh, no. He was RAGING MAD at Jackson.

This is so not what he came here for.

"I can dish it out but I can't take it?" he repeats quietly, turning around slowly, and facing Jackson – his whole face cold and angry. It's not something he's used to doing, but, honestly? This is crossing all the lines, "Really? That's what you took from everything I said before? That I was trying to be Regina George on you? Seriously? Are you that dumb? That completely conceited about yourself?"

"You come here, and I apologize, and then you criticize—"

"I wasn't criticizing you, you complete waste of space, I was pointing out what was wrong with the both of us! You want me to criticize you, as you put it? You want me to dish it out? Hell, yeah, I can. You are a low life scumbag, who thinks just because he's rich he's got a right to do anything and answer to nothing. An asshole who can't even realize his girlfriend is the smartest person in the whole school, who had someone who would die for him even when he so completely doesn't deserve it. A self-pitying bastard who can't see how good he's got it when he has parents who love him more than anything just because those aren't the parents he was born to – and you don't even have the excuse of being like that because they abandoned you, because they didn't! A selfish prick who won't tell the police he knew his own neighbor was being almost beaten to death by his father, and thinks he's right to do so just because it isn't any of his business! You think Isaac can't stand you because you were wild after the bite? No, you idiot, he can't stand you because you could have done something, and you didn't. Because you're such a coward, such a lowlife thing, that you can't see past your own needs, blinded to anyone else's!" Stiles walks as he talks, coming closer and closer to Jackson who just stands there, for once not wolfing out or even growling. He's listening, and growing paler with each word, "And you think I should be happy to have someone like that tied to me forever? A coward, an idiot, a weak link, who wouldn't even be brave enough to assume what he had become, and turned into a monster because he couldn't find himself? Probably you didn't even have anything to find, you complete waste of space! You're the worst person I have ever met, and I was all for ending that problem with the Kanima from the very beginning! Do you have any idea how hardScott had to fight to keep you alive? Between me and Derek, it was all he could do to try and save you, and you have everything to thank him for! Because if it was up to me, your mate; or Derek, your Alpha; you'd be dead!"

Stiles is almost screaming by the end of it, and Jackson's eyes are wide, and for the first time ever, he shows hurt.

And fear.

And a plethora of other emotions that Stiles has never even thought he'd see Jackson have, let alone show. To him.

Maybe he's taken this too far, but he feels as if Jackson deserves it.

"Why are you even bothering then?" Jackson's voice is hollow and rough. He sounds as if he has been shouting, "Why come here, why try to pretend I had any chance, if all you'll do is call the Argents and then have me killed? Because, honestly, Stiles, if that's how you feel about me, I don't get why you're here," he smiles bitterly at Stiles by the end of it, his voice broken just the tiniest bit, and Stiles takes a deep breath before talking.

"I'm here because I don't believe you are like that because you want to be. I don't think you even realize how much you hurt everyone around you. And I think that, given the chance, you could be a decent human being," Stiles sighs deeply, and looks down for a second, before coming to a decision, and staring at Jackson again, "And in the name of full disclosure here, I think you can be better. And I think I can help you. But you have to be willing for this to work, because, even if you're the most popular guy in school, the captain of the Lacrosse team and everybody's type, even if I'm just the guy no one but Scott talks to and Derek's human pet, I refuse to be tied to someone like you, unless you can prove to me you can be better."

They are silent for a few moments, that seem to go on forever, and then Jackson shakes his head.

"How do I even do that?" he sounds bewildered and lost, and Stiles shakes his head a bit.

"That's up to you. Think about this, and call me when you're ready to talk without behaving like a five year old, who'll offend everyone around him just because he feels threatened."

He leaves after that. Jackson's mother sees him to the door, and she looks as if she'll try and ask him something, but she doesn't.

Which is just amazing, because he doesn't think he has the patience to deal with any more Whittemores right now.

He does know, however, who would have that kind of patience.

Besides, payback is a bitch.

He smirks a little, getting in his car and pulling his phone out before turning it on.

Finally, there's an answer, by the fifth ring.

"Hey, Danny-boy! It's Stiles. Do you think I could come by and talk to you for a bit? It's about Jackson."

He smirks all the way to Danny's house.

X

"Don't you think we should talk?" Scott startles at hearing the voice by his window, and he swears he almost flails about, just like Stiles.

Okay, now he finally knows what his best friend meant when he complained about the unexpected appearances.

"Isaac! Man, I totally didn't hear you! What? Derek gives you guys creeper lessons or something? I must have missed that class."

Isaac smiles weakly, and gets in through the window, sitting on Scott's bed.

"Don't you think we should talk?" he repeats, and Scott looks down, afraid and nervous.

"Sure. What do you want to talk about?"

"Scott," the other boy sounds pleading, and Scott sighs, running his hands through his hair.

"Look, I don't know if I can do that yet. I don't… Like, hate you? And I know that as far as bad mate things can go, Stiles and Jackson take all the awards, but I can't… deal with this. Now. I…" he stops because he hears Isaac sighing.

"We don't have to talk about that exactly. But how about you give me some sort of explanation, or time frame or anything, Scott. Because this is hard for you and I get it, but it's not exactly a picnic for me either."

Scott swallows hard, and keeps looking down, not daring to meet the other boy's eyes.

"I really loved her, Isaac. And I know it sounds stupid, and even hurtful, but before you became a werewolf, I didn't notice you. Not at school or even at Lacrosse, so when Derek told me the whole thing about mates, I thought – this is it. Allison is it. Even if I kind of knew it wasn't really it, because it wasn't… right. It wasn't what Derek told me it'd be. And then you showed up, and I messed up, and you were kind of a jerk, so I got used to ignoring this. And when you got so good at controlling yourself, I thought… I thought you were wrong, then. And I was wrong. And I had gotten the wrong impression about everything, because you were so calm. I never realized it'd be this much easier because we were… because we knew."

Isaac stares at him silently, as if he also doesn't know what to do.

"I don't know what to do. I want to… be with you. But I don't know how, because Allison hasn't vanished in the universe, she's here" he puts his hand over his heart when he says it, "And I can't just let go like it never happened, because it did. I love… loved her. And I'm not quite sure how to let it go."

Isaac just sighs, and runs a hand over his curly hair.

"Can't we be friends? Like we were before, you know? It worked then. We'll figure it out as we go along, right?"

That didn't sound like a plan. Or a commitment. Or even a wise move.

But, after all, wasn't that exactly his kind of move?

Scott smiles and nods.

"Yeah. We can do that" he grins at Isaac, and if the grin he gets I return makes his heart melt a little, well, this is his business, and his business alone.

Oops, no time for Lydia. Next chapter she'll be here.

Sorry I kept you guys waiting, but this week was INSANE. Thanks a lot for reading it!

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