Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Co-Captain

We'd been following Jackson around for a day now, and I was livid. Why should I have to be subjected to this crap when we had bigger things to worry about? But, no, apparently protecting Jackson from Mr. Argent (Allison's hunter father) was high on our list of concerns. Jackson wasn't even anything supernatural. They would do some tests maybe and then leave him alone. I didn't see what the big deal was.

Finally, Jackson's Porsche died as he did donuts and loopty-loos in a parking lot, and Mr. Argent was coincidentally (??) there to help him out. When it seemed like Jackson was visibly uncomfortable, that's when we pulled up blaring rock music like the freaking superheroes we were.

"Yo," Scott said, throwing up a peace sign to Mr. Argent. I poked my head out between the seats and Stiles had to readjust to be able to see.

"What's up?" Stiles greeted, a goofy smile on his face.

"Everything okay?" I asked politely. Mr. Argent (who, by the way, was not unattractive at all. For an old guy.) smiled back at us while Jackson furrowed his brows in confusion.

"Hey, kids," he replied. "Your friend was having car trouble. We're just taking a look."

"There's a shop right down the street. I'm sure they have a tow truck." Scott gestured behind him, his eyes genuine and sweet.

"Yeah, you want a ride?" Stiles asked. Scott opened the door, staring at Mr. Argent while Jackson tried to figure out who was the lesser of two evils. "Hey, come on, Jackson. You're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself."

"Unfortunately," I mumbled under my breath. Scott narrowed his eyes at Jackson in warning, and he gulped and nodded, walking over. As Scott got out to let him in, I said, "I'm not sitting in the back with him. I might choke him to death."

"Hey, kids," Mr. Argent called. He walked over to the window and started Jackson's Porsche. I couldn't help feeling thankful. Mr. Argent smiled up at us. "I told you I knew a few things about cars." Mr. Argent went back to his SUV and left while Jackson sighed with relief.

"What, are you following me now?" Jackson seethed.

"Please, you're not that important," I scowled while getting out. What? He didn't need his ego fluffed, okay? And us following him, he might overestimate his worth. I had to kick him back down or else he would become more insufferable than he already was.

"You almost gave away everything right there!" Scott yelled in his face.

"What are you talking about?!"

"He thinks you're the second beta. He thinks you're me!" Scott punched the side of Stiles' jeep in anger.

From next to me, Stiles complained, "Dude, my jeep."

"I could hear your heart beating from a mile away. Literally! Now he thinks that there's something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you, too!" Scott screamed in Jackson's face. He went to punch the jeep again and Stiles practically tripped over his own feet to stop him.

"Okay, how about we just step away from Stiles' jeep?" Stiles suggested, walking Scott back to Jackson.

"This is your problem, alright, not mine! I didn't say anything which means you're the one that's gunna get me killed. This is your fault," Jackson retorted, shoving Scott into the jeep.

Stiles threw his hands in the hair exasperatedly. "Can we stop hitting my jeep?" They started to push each other, the beginnings of a fight happening that no one wanted to happen (except maybe me), and Stiles jumped in the middle, holding them arm's length apart, while I leaned against the jeep with my arms crossed.

When Stiles backed up, Scott said, "When they come after you, I won't be able to protect you. I can't protect anyone." He looked at Stiles, and Stiles jutted his head out, his hands on his hips.

"Why are you looking at me?" Stiles asked. Scott didn't answer and looked back to Jackson, who scowled.

"You know what, now you have to do it. Get me what I want and I will be fine protecting myself."

"No, you won't!" Scott replied. This kid just wasn't getting it. "Just trust me. All it does is make things worse."

"Oh, yeah, really? You can hear anything you want, and run faster than humanly possible. Sounds like a real hardship, McCall!"

"Yeah," I scoffed, getting Jackson's attention. "He can run really fast, but it's usually from people trying to kill him." Jackson rolled his eyes at me.

"And I can hear things like my girlfriend telling people she doesn't trust me anymore right before breaking up with me. I'm not lying to you! It ruins your life."

Jackson shook his head, the wind blowing his hair back dramatically as he said his next thing. "It ruined your life. You had all the power in the world, and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned 16 and someone bought you a Porsche when they should've started you out with a nice little Honda. Me? I drive a Porsche." As Jackson walked away, I squinted at his back.

"I thought that metaphor was gunna be a little more climactic than it actually was," I mumbled as we watched Jackson speed away dangerously.

-----------------------------------

I wasn't sure what time it was when Stiles called me and told me he needed me to come over, but it was before 10. At 11, Stiles was still upset, despite my best efforts to cheer him up. Apparently, he got his dad drunk so he would talk about the Hale case, and instead he ended up talking about Stiles' mom.

That was a tender subject for Stiles, and I had a sneaking suspicion that he'd always felt partially responsible. How could he not? I mean, his mom practically blamed him to his face. Though, she was going crazy due to dementia, but for a 10-year-old, that kind of statement leaves a mental scar.

So I stopped trying to cheer him up and just talked with him. Then we got a call from Scott. Peter was on a date with Melissa, and it was our job to stop it.

So, here we were, crashing into Peter's parked car by 'accident'. They were in there talking, and this was the best we could think of. Melissa got out quickly, and upon seeing the blue jeep, groaned out Stiles' name.

Stiles' jeep was smoking as we got out, too.

"Are you kidding me?" Melissa said, looking at the back of Peter's car.

"Mrs. McCall?" Stiles said, as though he hadn't known it was her. "Wow, this is just crazy. What a coincidence."

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry. We-we got distracted," I told her as she fake-laughed at the 'coincidence'. Peter got out and told Scott 'good job' for the distraction while Stiles and I talked with Melissa.

"I mean, I do not know what happened. You guys just came out of nowhere," Stiles rambled. There were cars lined up behind us, unable to pass due to our crash. Whoops.

"Came out of nowhere? We were parked on the side of the road, Stiles!" Melissa asserted as Peter walked up to us.

"How crazy is that?" Stiles laughed.

"You know what, we could probably call the cops," I said, looking at Stiles.

Nodding at me, he continued, "Yes, we should. Do like an accident report thing."

"I don't think that's necessary," Peter refused, and Melissa crossed her arms at him.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. "I think I'm feeling a little whiplash."

"Whiplash?! You hit us!" Melissa yelled.

"I don't know. There's definitely something wrong with my neck." Stiles rubbed out his neck, pretending he couldn't move his head a certain way as Peter stepped away to talk to Scott again, who was nearby somewhere. As Melissa chewed us out, Stiles insisted something was wrong as he twitched his head like a bobble-head toy.

I was pretty sure the night ended with Peter threatening Jackson, and Scott running off to save him. Unfortunately.