Work Text:
To Protect Derek/Jackson
Jackson was woken by a smell, a very sharp scent that burned along the inner walls of his nose. The teenager’s bright eyes shot open and he inhaled with a loud gasp, as he sharply came to. His mind suddenly flooded with sensations; it was looking for pieces to fill a rather blank puzzle. He didn’t remember falling asleep; the last thing he remembered was being outside by the woods near his house. In order to get his mind off the increasingly crazy things that were going on in Beacon Hills, Jackson did what he usually did when stressed. He proceeded to shoot ball after ball into the tiny cup of a goal, with vary degrees of success. The last thing he saw was a white ball bouncing against the dark bark of tree. Jackson followed the floating ball with a look of disdain before his world swirled into blackness.
In the dim light, Jackson was just starting to make out the shapes of his surroundings; he was obviously no longer surrounded by trees. The yellowish light came from the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling, and its weak glow didn’t reach far into the dank of the room. He could see a chair, the red paint badly chipped off the wood, which was pushed away from an old school desk. The teenager’s blue eyes continued to search the space, and he came to the conclusion that he was definitely in a room somewhere but…not one he had had ever been in before.
After those moments of looking, Jackson began to feel a pain in his wrists. He shifted his body and swayed in the air; his bound feet didn’t even brush the ground. A growing sense of panic began to well in his chest as he looked up to see his hands in chains that hung from the ceiling. He was no better off than that light bulb, as he feebly jerked on the chain in an attempt to get free. The only thing he managed to do was cause the metal to pinch his skin and draw a painful hiss from his dry lips.
“Please don’t hurt yourself, Jackson.” A voice spoke out from the darkened part of the room, a place where the light didn’t reach. A male voice that Jackson didn’t recognize at all, but it carried a sense of familiarity all the same. It was like a song that you may hear once when walking by a store, you don’t ever forget it but you never remember it either.
The figure was about the same height as Jackson, and even had a similar build to him. As he walked towards Jackson, the light slowly brought his obscured features into focus. He had a thin face, short, brown hair and boring but not ugly looks, like a face you would see in a department store catalog. Jackson guessed they were about the same age, but he really couldn’t come up with a name for the boy in front of him. The teenager’s thin lips formed a slight smirk as he watched Jackson’s face turn into a look of confusion.
“Don’t you recognize me?” He spreads open his arms, letting Jackson get a better look at him.
“N-No, I don’t.” Jackson willed himself not to show fear, even if the emotion was gnawing at his stomach.
“I guess I can’t be too surprised.” The brunet replied with a sigh and dropped his arms to his sides. He slowly began to pace around Jackson, his eyes looking over the figure of the captured man. “But you did get my notes right?”
“Notes?” Jackson tried to think clearly even as his body grew tenser and his pulse quickened. He was drawing a blank at first, until it hit him like a bullet in his chest. The weird notes and texts he had been getting over the past few weeks, he had largely ignored them with all the werewolf shit going on. He didn’t have time to worry about some stupid secret admirer, probably some fat, nerdy girl, when McCall was upstaging him on the playing field due or those weird dreams with Derek. Jackson had thrown them all away without a second glance, even the one he had gotten today that said something about meeting at their favorite spot.
“So you do remember now.” The teenager stated as he watched Jackson’s expressive features work through those memories. He continued to let his eyes roam over the athlete with mixture of disdain and hunger, much like a predator does over prey.
“Those stupid little notes, you wrote those.” Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he tried to follow his captor, but eventually he couldn’t twist his neck enough as the teenager disappeared behind him. He heard the squeal of metal behind him, like a box was being opened.
“Didn’t it make you feel so important, Jackson.” The voice said behind him, which just sent a chill along Jackson’s suspended body. “To know someone was doing nothing but spending all their time just wanting your attention.” The tone grew harsher and it grew closer, Jackson could feel the breath on his neck.
“What the fuck is your problem?” Jackson couldn’t help his sharp tongue, even when he was threatened. “Let me go, you fucking psycho!”
“Maybe…maybe, but only after I do what is fair,” The stalker repeated in an almost sing song kind of way as he walked back around in front of his captive. A big grin had formed along his face and twisted those once mundane features into something much more sinister. Glinting off the blade, the yellow light danced from the handle to its shiny tip. The blade had to be about eight inches, freshly cleaned and sharpened by the looks of it.
“Every time I wrote one of those notes, I would go and sharpen this knife.” He touched one of his fingertips to it, and with just tiny amount of pressure, a speck of blood blossomed from the spot. The display caused Jackson’s breath to become shallow and short, his eyes widening up with fear.
Grabbing the bottom of the light gray, v-neck t-shirt Jackson was wearing, the teenager proceed to slide the blade through the soft fabric. The metal blade made short work of the shirt, just one quick slice all the way towards Jackson’s neck. Moving in closer, the stalker moved the blade right up against the soft, smooth skin of the other teenager’s throat. He was obviously delighted at how scared Jackson looked, hanging from chain and now shirtless, more and more exposed to him.
“W-Why are you doing this?” Jackson managed to spit out, his chest rising and falling with the quick, frightened beats of his heart.
“Because people like you get all the attention…” The stalker replied as he trailed the blade up to Jackson’s cheek bone, and giving it a tiny nick. He grinned as the tiny red drop formed and began to run down the perfectly sculpted face, “And no matter how hard I work, you always make me invisible.” He pushed the knife down into his pocket as he took Jackson’s face into his hands, almost as he was appraising a treasure.
“I’m let you live but only after I make you want to die.” The stalker whispered into his ear.
“W-What.” Jackson coughed; he could only put together single words as fear drove its icy fingers into his lunges.
“I’m going to ruin this face,” The stalker practically purred it as he finger moved along Jackson’s lip and then slide down to his chest,” And ruin your body, so you won’t ever make someone feel invisible again.” He pressed his nails into the muscled torso, leaving long, red marks as he scratched down. The abdominal muscles tensed and jumped under the smooth skin, now marred by those fingernails
“Please, don’t.” Jackson whimpered, he didn’t even feel the pain as adrenaline overrode everything else. He was desperately trying to think of options in his head, but outside of divine invention, it seemed hopeless. That didn’t stop him from tugging on those chains in dim hope of something happening, but that only brought a snicker from his captor.
“Just relax, Jackson.” The stalker pulled the knife back out and brought it back to his face, close enough that Jackson could see his own terror stricken face reflected. “This will be a blessing, no more pressure to be anything but….well nothing.”
Unable to just give up, Jackson did the only thing he could think of. He raised his head back and smashed it into the stalker’s face with every bit of force he could muster. The other teenager let out a groan as he took the blow, the knife clanged loudly against the ground. Jackson swung in the air and his vision blurred, a wave of dizziness encircled him as he tried to refocus. By the time he got senses back, he only had a moment to watch as a fist slammed into his face.
“You stupid fucking bitch!” The stalker shouted, the calm killer persona had burned away into the unhinged young man he truly was.
Jackson cried out in pain as his world became a swirl of black, his body once again swaying in the air of the deserted room. Sparks of colored light filled his murky vision, as the world slowly cleared in front of one of his eyes. The swelling was instant in his face, he reactively tried to cover it but his hands merely jerked futilely against their bonds. For a moment Jackson feared he was now blinded in his left eye and what that meant for his lacrosse career, but that was a trifle price right now.
He had to watch as the stalker picked his knife up again and could nothing as the blade was rammed into his side. Jackson couldn’t even conjure up a shout as he felt the blade sink into his body, just a soundless scream as pain erupted through his body. He could breathe, but not shout or speak, just force shallow, little breaths as blood flowed down along the muscular grooves of his body. The world became incredibly quiet; Jackson could only hear the splatter of his blood on the ground in steady beats. Out of his eye, he watched the pool of crimson grow under him.
The rhythmic sound of his blood smacking the ground was broken by the sound of wood being cracked, a splintered explosion in front of him. Jackson used his good eye to look up from the scene of his life draining away, but he really couldn’t make anything out in all of the blurs. He did hear some kind of roar, then the desk being smashed, and followed by a very human cry of pain, before he heard his name.
“Jackson, Jackson!”
He knew that voice, and he even managed to smile a little.
“Derek…”
Maybe he was having one of those stupid dreams again…
Jackson woke up to the smell of trees, the sweet, wet smell, which he was used to smelling every morning. Under that familiar scent, he could pick up a lingering scent of something burnt. He tried opening his eyes but only one would cooperate enough to do that. Tentatively touching his left eye, he flinched in pain as his fingertip brushed the bruised skin. Jackson let his hand drop away, so that whole event just hadn’t been one horrible nightmare; he had really been kidnapped and almost killed.
At the moment, he didn’t know whether to laugh or to sob, even as his full lips tightened and spread. He tried to force a laugh, but it came out as wheezed cough, pathetic. The tears ran out of his good eye, so crying was the only thing he could do. Jackson blinked a few times as he tightened his fingers into the sheets that lay over his body, not even bothering to wonder where he was. He stared up at an unfamiliar ceiling, as his vision blurred from his tears.
“Jackson…” A familiar, male voice reached his ears, Derek’s voice.
Quickly wiping his hand along his face, Jackson tried to twist to his side to look over towards the other man. He quickly realized that wasn’t possible as pain rippled through his body. Groaning in pain, Jackson didn’t even fight as strong hands forced him back flat on the bed. Derek’s intimidating look was softened by his concern as he looked down at the wounded boy in his bed.
“Just stay still.” He said in a firm tone before he pulled back the sheets, revealing the Jackson’s naked torso. Jackson tilted his head down to get a look as he felt Derek’s fingers gliding along his side until they reached the spot where he had been stabbed. He really couldn’t see anything from his angle but winced at the light pressure that was applied.
“You didn’t reopen it,” Derek said abruptly and covered him back up,” But no sudden movements.” He leaned in close, like he was going in for a kiss but stopped as he looked at the boy’s swollen eye.
“You saved me.” Jackson followed him with his good eye, as Derek pulled away and just stood near the bed.
“Not really…” He visibly tightened up at the statement, the muscles of his body flexing under his shirt,” Go back to sleep.” Derek gave him another lingering glance before turning his back and heading out the door.
“Derek...” Jackson wanted some answers but he suddenly felt heavy, his limbs became as dense as lead. He stared at the doorway the man had disappeared through until his world was swallowed by black.
Jackson didn’t really sleep as his dreams became a cycle, playing the events over and over in his head. The face that once had been hard to pick out of a crowd was now burned into him, he could remember ever wrinkle of his stalker’s sinister smile. He could feel the chains digging into his wrists as he struggled to no avail. The way the blade moved along his skin before finally slicing him open. The wet sensation of his own blood moving down his body, the spread puddle of read filling his dreams. He cried out for help, over and over, as his hands groped and ripped into the sheets.
“You’re safe…Jackson.” Derek’s words flowed into his ears; Jackson would then wake up for a moment to feel the man’s body around him. The sinewy, strong arms wrapped around him, and for a fleeting moment, Jackson did really feel safe before drifting back into sleep. It nothing else, he stopped crying out after he went back to sleep but his hands kept a death grip on Derek’s body.
The pattern continued for a few days more, Jackson waking for a few minutes from hunger or fear, and Derek providing for him. When in his light sleep, he could voices from beyond the room that stirred him up. Jackson could pick them out, Scott, Lydia, even Stiles, but none of them came in to see him…not that he could remember. He got faint words through the walls when the conversations got heated, something about he should be in the hospital but Derek wouldn’t let him leave. Jackson figured he was hearing things, maybe he was dreaming it.
Derek was always there though, laying next to him at night or just sitting in a chair by the door. The teenager felt oddly relieved by the knowledge that the werewolf was near, it allowed him to drift back into sleep.
“How did you find me?” Jackson was finally feeling more like himself today, his eye has healed enough to open again. Derek was leaned into him just to do another check on it, but he was relieved to finally have both eyes questioning him.
“I followed your scent.” He replied, as he stood up from the bed.
“Yea I’m not an idiot,” Jackson was obviously feeling better because his attitude was back, “But how did you even know I was even kidnapped.”
Derek stared at him for a moment,” I was watching you.”
“Watching me?”Jackson was unrelenting when he wanted something, and right now he wanted answers.,” Why were you watching me?”
“Considering you will do anything to get the bite,” Derek returned the glare he was getting from Jackson, “I try to keep an eye on you so you don’t do something incredibly stupid.” That was part of the truth; the other part wasn’t sure if it was the right time to share.
“Shouldn’t you be more focused on McCall and the deranged beast running around?” Jackson looked away from him, and just stared out the window to view of all the trees that made up the massive forest around the Hale House. He hated feeling weak, he definitely didn’t like the idea Derek was playing secret babysitter to him.
“Don’t be such an ungrateful dick, Jackson.” Derek grunted as he got off the bed, he was doing his best to patient with the teenager considering what he had just been through, “Can’t you just say thank you?”
Jackson stiffened at the question and it took a few, long seconds before he turned his attention back to the werewolf. The cold look he normally wore melted as he locked eyes with Derek, “I-I..” He took a moment to breath, “Thank you.”
“Welcome…” Derek responded before he turned his back to leave, his own heart pounding in his chest. He wondered how long he would be able to keep Jackson at arm’s length, at least, when the teenager was awake.
“What did you mean when you said not really?” Jackson looked across the table at Derek, the other man cooking dinner. He noticed quickly the bunching of the muscles along the werewolf’s shoulders in an obvious sign of tension, “You that remember right.”
“Yes…” Derek flexed his hand around knife he was using to slice open vegetables, “I know what I said.”
“Well I don’t get it,” Jackson winced slightly as he leaned against his chair. He was definitely healing, but he wasn’t perfect just yet, “You got me out of there before I bled out.”
“You are really dense sometimes,” Derek set the knife down as he turned around to face the younger man,” The fact that you got as badly hurt as you did…” He shook his head, obviously bothered by Jackson’s injuries,” I should’ve gotten to you sooner.”
“Why are you getting so bent out of shape?” Jackson tapped his finger lightly against the table, chewing on his bottom lip for a second, “I didn’t even think you liked me that much.”
“You’re so dumb, are all of you kids dumber now a days?” Derek moved away from the kitchen counter, with his swift movements, he was behind Jackson before the teenager realized it. He brushed his fingers along the back of the other man’s neck, which made Jackson want to pop out of his seat.
“W-What are you…”
“I marked you that day, Jackson.” Derek leaned down to brush his lips against the skin, “As mine…my mate.” He placed a light kiss there, Jackson’s body tensing up in nervous surprise.
“M-Mate?” Jackson turned his head around to look up at the werewolf, he probably looked shocked but Derek was wearing this reassuring smile.
“That’s why I look after you, why it killed me when I saw you so hurt.” Derek knelt down beside the sitting teenager, his eyes narrowing as he reached to touch Jackson’s bruised face, “I feel like I failed you.”
“Can we just wait a moment,” Jackson’s eyes big and anxious as he looked back at Derek, “I never agreed to by your mate, I mean I don-t even-“
“You dream about me.” Derek stated bluntly as his finger lightly touched the discolored skin.
“Dream about you?” Jackson was caught off guard by Derek’s knowledge,” How…”
“Because we’re connected, Jackson” The werewolf said simply as he leaned in closer, “It’s how I know we are suppose to be mates.”
Jackson didn’t get a chance to offer up some flimsy response as Derek pressed his lips against his own. He tried to push the older man off but even that was half hearted as their kiss deepened. Having kissed Lydia several times and even Danny a few times, Jackson always felt something was…off. He could never really explain it and just ignored it, forcing himself just to perform as perfectly as possible. Jackson didn’t have to perform now, the heat flowing from their kiss made him come alive. Maybe there was something to this mate thing afterall…