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“Stiles! Stiles talk to me!” Jackson says loudly, looking at Stiles. They are both hanging shirtless and barefoot from the ceiling with their wrists tied by a rope, only in Jackson’s case that rope is coated with wolfsbane and the cuts under the rope hurt like a bitch. Plus, he hates the suffocating heat and his hands are so numb that he can hardly feel them anymore.
After six days of hardly eating and drinking anything, they’ve lost weight. Their ribs are sticking out prominently much more than before and they are both covered in blood from the different cuts in their faces, arms and chests.
Jackson’s cuts won’t heal because the knife they used was covered in wolfsbane, but he’s trying not to think about the pain and focus his attention on Stiles, whose mental state is really worrying him.
The few burns on Stiles’s body caused by electric shocks are also looking pretty nasty and the fact that Stiles hasn’t said anything in hours is a clear sign that his state has drastically changed in the last twenty-four hours. Thankfully, he can still hear his heartbeat and he knows he’s alive.
“Come on! Wake up!” Jackson insists. “Stiles!”
Stiles opens his eyes slowly. “Okay, what… what the fuck do you want?”
“What do I want?” Jackson raises his eyebrows. “I want you to stay conscious, that’s what I want. Haven’t you seen any movies? You’re supposed to stay conscious.”
“Who cares? We’re not getting out of here,” Stiles says, looking at the floor.
Jackson knows there’s a 99% chance that Stiles is right, but if he needs to say some positive bullshit to keep Stiles’s hope up, then so be it.
“I can’t believe that just came out of your mouth, Mr. ‘don’t worry, my dad will find us’. That’s been your mantra for the last six days… and so what? Now you’re giving up? Well, news flash Stilinski, you were right, there’s no fucking way we’re dying in this shithole. I promise you that.”
“It’s the truth. If they knew where we are they would have found us by now.”
“Come on, we all know that your dad isn’t the most resourceful cop out there.”
Stiles snorts with difficulty. “And Derek?”
“I’m sure Derek isn’t the best alpha on earth… but I’m sure he’ll find us. He’s been in more difficult situations than this, remember? And he found the way to get out of them… He’s not completely useless.”
“Wow, your absolute confidence makes me feel so much better,” Stiles says with sarcasm.
“Yeah, well, all I’m saying is that I didn’t survive all that kanima shit to end up dying here with you in this filthy basement.”
There is just silence after that and when Jackson looks at Stiles he sees that he’s just hanging there with his eyes closed. He’s pretty sure that he’s fainted again, probably because of the lack of food and water in his system.
“Stiles! Wake up! Shit! Wake up!”
There’s no response, so he shouts again. This time even harder.
“Come on! Stiles! Fuck! Stilinski! Wake up!”
Finally, Stiles opens his eyelids but not completely.
“If they find you in time, please tell my father that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve left him alone… and I’m sorry that I wasn’t… that I didn’t do what he asked me most of the time.”
“Shut up! I’m not telling shit to the sheriff.”
“And I want Scott to have my jeep. Tell him to—”
Jackson rolls his eyes. “If you don’t stop this bullshit, I’ll kill you myself when we get out of here,” he interrupts him angrily.
“Fuck! I can’t do this anymore…” Stiles sobs. “Can’t you see that? We’ve run out of time.” It’s pointless not to admit it when he can feel his body shutting down… when he can’t stand on his feet anymore and he can hardly keep his eyes open.
“You’ve always loved being dramatic,” Jackson says, shaking his head. “You should think about your father… and Scott… what would they say if they heard you talking like that? Do you want me to tell them that you just gave up?” Jackson snorts, looking directly at Stiles’s eyes. “That you didn’t fight? That you’re a fucking loser?”
“You’re an asshole,” Stiles keeps looking at the floor. Sweat is covering his whole body and the air feels hard to breathe.
“Sorry you couldn’t choose somebody nicer to be locked up with… maybe your pal would have been better company.” Sarcasm all over Jackson’s words.
“Well, you are an asshole, don't get me wrong… the most conceited, narcissistic and selfish person I know, but…” Stiles licks his dry lips, another sign that he’s fucking thirsty. “But you haven’t been so bad… I guess I’m glad you were here.” Stiles closes his eyes, shaking his head. “I mean, not that I’m glad that you ended up here and that you might die too, which means I’m the last person you’re gonna see and I’m sure I wouldn’t have been your first choice… or even the last one… yeah, probably I wouldn’t even have made it to the list… you know...”
Not that it brings much comfort but at least he’s not dying alone. At least he has some last twisted way to say goodbye to his father. And the truth is that Jackson has tried to defend him when he was being tortured and has tried to comfort him the only way he knows how. That’s a lot more than he could have expected before this nightmare started.
“Yeah, got it.” Jackson rolls his eyes. Those aren’t the adjectives he likes to hear to about him, but at least he got him talking and strangely enough, he had missed that.
“Look,” Jackson continues. “I guess this is as good an opportunity as any other to say that I’m sorry…” Jackson licks his lips. “I’m sorry for everything.” The sincerity in Jackson’s voice is unmistakable and that’s what makes Stiles look at him with curiosity.
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.” The list isn’t short.
“You know… everything. I know your father was suspended because you took that van to help me and because my father filed that restraining order against you. I know they punished you and your father, and neither of you deserved that… I shouldn’t have allowed that happen. And well, you’re right… I know I’ve always been an asshole to you, but that’s not really who I am anymore. I’ve tried to prove that since I turned.” Since he finally turned.
Stiles snorts but stays silent.
“It’s true! I have!” Jackson says loudly. “I’ve been trying to apologize since… you know, since I joined the pack… but I didn’t…” Jackson stops as he tries to find the words. “I thought you wouldn’t give a shit. I thought you wouldn’t care… and I never found the right time.” Or at least that is the excuse he gave to himself.
“Yeah, but you’re telling me now because I’m about to die and you just want to feel better about it. Is that it? Do you want me to forgive you before I die?” Because the idea of Jackson needing his forgiveness in any way is kind of mindblowing right now.
“Stop with the fucking dying bullshit! You're the most stubborn person I know, but I need you to trust me and believe that you’re strong enough to do this. And yeah, maybe I need you to forgive me. I need to fix the past if I want to start again.” His parents kept telling him that and it took him a while but he finally understood what they were trying to say and that is what he was trying to do before he ended up in this mess.
“Do you…” Stiles closes his eyes for a second, processing what Jackson just said. “Do you think I’m strong?” Stiles’s voice is weak, almost a whisper.
“Of course, you’re strong and stubborn as hell,” Jackson says matter-of-factly. “I’m your classmate… I know a lot of the shit you’ve dealt with… and no matter what people throw at you, you never back down. I’ve seen it many times. Hell, you wanted to be part of the pack and you got it… You convinced Derek and we both know how he feels about humans. If he agreed is because he values your strength as much as your brains. I thought you knew that.”
Stiles is speechless, so Jackson continues.
“Anyway, when we get out of here...” He almost slipped and said if we get out of here, but he knows he can’t say that. He can’t show any weakness no matter how scared he is. No matter how many doubts torment his brain all the time.
“When we come back home, things are gonna be different, you know? Things are going to change.” Or at least he’s gonna try harder this time. That is, if he actually comes back home and sees his parents again.
He didn’t know he needed a wake-up call but maybe he did. It just sucks that he got the worst of them all.
(To be continued = this is not the end of this scene)