Derek found the cougar carcass deep in the woods. He just had to follow the smell of carrion and the path of scavenger birds. It was big, he could tell by just the head, the sick rotting head. He looked around the corpse and could see a large indentation were something big had obviously slept. He leaned down and took one long whiff. It was wolf, a giant one by the looks of it. Underneath the smell of wolf was…was…
Derek could see, on top of the animal prints were fresh human prints, but first he wanted to see the path the wolf had taken. He ran the path which led throughout the forest skirting dangerously close to the town but never heading in that direction. He could tell that who ever left them must have been having fun. He remembers his first full transformation and the pure joyful freedom the wolf could give a person. He could see as it ran and jumped and clawed the trees and could see where it crossed the path of the mountain lion and the bloody battle that followed. He could see were the wolf rolled around on the floor leaving behind the tattered remains of a hoodie and a pair of jeans. Derek picked these up, making sure not to leave behind anything that might lead hunters back to their owner. He then did his best to obscure most of the prints especially near the cougar carcass.
This new wolf was obviously stronger than both Scott and Lydia, if it could take down a giant cougar by itself without any trouble. He could tell it was faster than the other two by how much of the forest it could cover in just one night. Scott and Lydia hadn't been able to go full wolf yet, this wolf could which meant it was either older or…something else. Derek was nervous though, he didn't know if a wolf this powerful would submit to being in Derek's pack and recognize him as Alpha. But he was sure of one thing, he wanted this new wolf to submit to him, he wanted to run in the night with someone who wouldn't hold him back, he wanted to hunt bigger and stronger prey together and feed the animal hunger that roared inside him and he wanted this wolf by his side while he did it.
He now followed the human prints through the forest and the stumbling slow path through the trees. It went on for a while until it led to a tree with a sketch book left at its roots. He flipped through its pages, the book was surprisingly full, most of the drawing were landscapes of different sites around Beacon Hills, the High Schools field, a cliff over looking the town, different locations throughout the forest, some of which were so detailed even Derek could recognize them. There were also more abstract drawing made with compressed charcoal. They were all dark shapeless masses with dark cloudy tendrils seeping off the edges.
He took the sketchbook with him as well and continued down the path, straight into Jackson Whittemore's back yard. He looked around but there was nothing there that could suggest Jackson was the wolf, expect for a pair of bloody foot prints left on the path up to his backdoor. Derek washed these away with a hose he found near one of their garden beds. He looked up and listened and could hear the soft sounds of two people sleeping. He didn't know if one of them was Jackson expect for the voice in his head telling him that it was and that he was safe. He decided to leave it for now and to wait for the boy to regain some of his strength before confronting him. He took one last look around the house just to make sure everything was as it should be and, rather than notice Stiles' jeep parked across the street, he simply walked back into the woods and towards his house.
Stiles was awake but didn't want to move. The slow steady rise and fall of Jackson's chest was hypnotic and had him in a sort of lull. The steady heart beat underneath his ear had him on the verge of sleep. Jackson brought his hand up to rub it against Stiles' soft downy head. Jackson thought he smelled nice, like frosting and lemony freshness. Jackson's petting made Stiles shiver and finally shocked him into fully waking.
He wasn't sure how he got himself into these situations, having an emotional breakdown with Jackson and then falling asleep on top of him, was one of a seemingly long list of weird shit he has gotten himself into. The most embarrassing part though was the fact that he had a pretty bad case of morning wood going on now….evening wood apparently. He slowly disentangled himself from Jackson, grabbed his stuff, and left…
He knew what he was doing, there was no doubt in his mind that he was running, as fast as he could. He was scared and confused and had no way to deal with this…whatever it was. So he got in his car and drove home, took a cold shower, which did nothing for him, and turned on his computer. A half hour later his father came home and asked him where he was last night, obviously he was at Scotts, or so his father believed. Stiles went back up to his room and tried to distract himself by playing some Minecraft, but it didn't help. His normal over active energy was on overdrive, he couldn't concentrate on anything, which wasn't new, but now all he could think of was Jackson's arm holding him by the hip and the other one rubbing his head, it still made him shiver. So he decided then and there that it didn't matter, because he was going to ignore it.
Jackson woke up feeling better than he had…in a very long time. He's body ached like he had done the hardest work out of his life, but it left him feeling light and calm. He ran his hand down his chest missing the hot heavy press that was there a few minutes ago. He missed the soft feeling of hair he had run his hand through. Now that the pain was gone, he was able to concentrate on other things he hadn't been able to focus on for the past three months. He was able to take a deep breath and smell the forest that was right outside his window, he could smell the grass of the lawn, the animals in the bush, and the chlorine of the pool. In his room he could smell the presence of someone else, like lemon, sugar, and the unmistakable musk of another man. He opened his eyes and remembered.
He remembered sitting beneath the tree and the sudden shocking wave of pain that had him crippled over and gasping for air, he couldn't get enough in his lungs, he tried to get up but he could feel the bones in his legs break beneath him. He felt as his skin was torn and stretched and the bones of his ribs cracked and pushed against his flesh. He could feel the teeth in house mouth sharpen and stretch till he could barely close it. He felt the bones in his hand stretch, break, and elongate into perfect sharp deadly claws. He could feel his face change, grow animal like, could feel his mouth elongate. His body was breaking apart and reforming into something new, something different and the entire time, over the pain, he could hear his own shouts of pain, louder than the beating of his heart or the rush of blood in his ears, he could hear his scream turn into animal roars and then he was free. The pain was gone and all that was left behind was the primal animal freedom, he was free, he wasn't himself, he was more, he was better, he was who he was meant to be and he rejoiced, he lifted his face to the air and let the world know, let them know he was free, he howled.
But that was last night, this morning was different. When he awoke in the woods covered in blood it felt as if that freedom had been taken away. He felt trapped in his own body and it wasn't fair. To be given a glimpse of true happiness and to have it wrenched away from him and thrown back into a life he hates. It wasn't fair.
If Stiles hadn't shown up he would never have left his bed again. He would have just lain there and died. But Stiles was there looking at him with the most sheepish look on his face, embarrassment mixed with something Jackson didn't recognize, something like concern. He had nothing left inside him to remember what embarrassment felt like. Until Stiles lowered him into that fucking hot water and started washing him. Then he remembered what it was like to feel embarrassed. Especially when those hands were making him feel so god damn good, rubbing away all his aches and pains, leaving behind a tingling peaceful sensation, making him want to moan. Or making him want to laugh with giddy energy left over from the night before.
He remembered what shame was like when Stiles asked about his bruises, and when he looked into his eyes and saw pity. He couldn't bear it and he turned away and denied it but Stiles knew and he grabbed him and held him and let him cry. Stiles talked, not only on how he knew, but how they all the knew, those fucking people he hated, the people who sneered at him in the halls for being the pathetic king of this fucking towns high school and he couldn't stand it…Until Stiles started crying with him, buried his face against Jackson's neck and then they were holding each other and sobbing and soon laughing. He remembered how good it felt, to squeeze Stiles' smaller body against his own and feel him squeeze back. But he was gone now. He wasn't sure how to feel about that, except the voice in the back of his head did. It told him that Stiles saw him for who he really was and found him pathetic and disgusting and not worth staying for. He tried to silence this voice, keep it from leaking out of his eyes and constricting his chest, it took him awhile but he succeeded.
It was late and the sun was creeping towards the ocean, diving underneath it, coloring it orange and purple, like the bruises on his body. He could feel the wolf inside, panting, waiting, relaxed and sate from the night before, but there waiting to feel free again, to run through the woods, and sink its teeth into the flesh of some unknown predator.