So! I'm here with another story! Whoop!
I also have already written a lot for this story, there is a reason this chapter is this long...
Okay, a couple of things:
I don't own Teen Wolf, (but I wish I did!)
I just borrow the characters!
I also borrowed the title from the song Beggin' from Madcon (but the song is popular again in my home country because of the band Maneskin).
***
Stiles is seventeen at the beginning of this story, Derek and Stiles aren't happening for quite some time in this story. As you see in the tags, it will be a poly relationship with Allison, and Allison and Stiles will come together sooner than they will be with Derek!
Have fun! And please leave kudos and comments! I love those!
***
Stiles groans when the doorbell rings, and he is forced to wake up. Everything hurts, and he is debating for a moment if he really was better of not going to the hospital last night.
He knows his dad had an early shift, and he has left Stiles alone after yesterday, thank god. Stiles knows that his dad didn't believe him when he told him that the opposite team had taken him and beaten him up. But what could Stiles say? 'Yo pops! I feel like I'm dying because Grandpa Argent beat my ass in the ground because I should have been a 'message'! Everything totally cool now though, Scott then betrayed Derek while betraying Grandpa Argent, and we hope that Grandpa Argent died, but nobody is sure! Ooh! And nobody even noticed that I was bleeding all over my jeep. Oh, you saw the dent in my jeep? Yeah, I ran over Jackson, who isn't dead. Surprise!'
Yeah. Not going to happen. Stiles likes to be free and not locked up in a loony bin. Thank you very much.
The doorbell rings again, and Stiles whimpers when he sits up. Fuck. He probably has some bruised ribs or something. He grumbles all the way down.
Then he opens the door and is shocked to see perfect strawberry blonde hair with piercing green eyes next to a scowling blonde asshole.
"Jesus Stilinski, you look like shit," Jackson says while standing on Stiles's porch, looking Stiles up and down with a sneer.
"Feel like it too. What the fuck do you want?" Stiles snaps. Already done with today, thankfully, his dad agreed that he should stay home the last week of school, so he wanted to chill and at least get some healing in before another supernatural shitshow would start. It also didn't help that his heart was broken yesterday.
He couldn't blame Lydia for choosing Jackson, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. But what really cut him was when Derek made it perfectly clear what he thought about Stiles.
Stiles watches with tears in his eyes how Lydia and Jackson fall in each other arms. He locks eyes with Jackson and quickly wipes his eyes. He doesn't need to give the jock any ammo for hurtful insults. He hisses when he feels the bruise on his cheek again.
Derek seems ready to leave the warehouse as soon as possible, but then he sees Stiles and the glare on his face becomes even fiercer. Stiles didn't even know that it was possible, but here comes the grumpy Alpha wolf himself. He grabs Stiles by his jacket and slams him against the jeep. Stiles whimpers because holy shit! He was just beaten up a couple of hours ago. He is one big bruise. To be manhandled like that hurts like hell now.
Derek releases him instantly, and it takes all of Stiles's strength so he won't fall down on the floor.
"You smell like Erica and Boyd."
Stiles flinches, because yeah, that's probably right. He hates himself for leaving them, but he was dragged away by the hunters before he could do anything. He was a little proud that he at least made sure they wouldn't be electrocuted anymore.
"Well-"
"I released Erica and Boyd just an hour ago. They should be back at your home right now." Chris Argent says from where he's clutching a crying Allison to his chest.
Derek clenches his jaw but nods. He seems ready to leave again, but Stiles stops him with a hand on his arm.
"Hey, wait, you should know that what Scott-"
"Shut up, Stiles. You don't have to gloat that you came up with the idea. Scott could never have thought of it himself." Derek snarls and Stiles rears back as if hit.
"What are you talking about?! I didn't know! I would never do that to you - to the pack."
Derek scoffs. "You're just human. You're not even part of the pack. And I know you're lying. Where else would you have been? Huh? You even smell like Gerard! Did you help him with Erica and Boyd?! Hold them down while he hurt them?!" Derek all but roars in Stiles's face.
Stiles is frozen to the ground. Does Derek think so little of him? That Stiles would- that Stiles is - holy shit. Stiles is still gaping at Derek and can't even come up with something to throw back at the Alpha. Derek just scoffs and sneers before running out of the warehouse, Isaac hot on his heels.
Lydia seems shocked by how Stiles reacts, but she doesn't let it deter her.
"We came to check on you. I saw how hurt you were yesterday. Can we come in?"
Stiles is shocked by her admission and the soft voice she is speaking in. This is not the Lydia Martin he knows and adores. He lets them in without another word. He gingerly walks to the kitchen and asks if they want something to drink. Jackson seems tense and like he wants to bolt out of the house at any moment, but he keeps his ground.
"I've never thought that you two would willingly stand in my kitchen, to be honest. Don't you have to go to school or something?" Stiles finally says after a couple of minutes of tense silence.
Lydia raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow before answering.
"You and I are at the top of our class, Stiles. A couple of days missing won't hurt anything, and besides, it's almost summer break." She says with a flick of her hair.
"And I died yesterday," Jackson casually says, and yeah, that's probably a good reason to miss the last couple of days of school.
"Oooookay, so what are you doing here, like here here, as in, why the hell are you in my house? You checked on me, I'm alive-" Because he is sure as hell isn't fine, so why bother lying? "-so what do you want?" He says while looking at Lydia and Jackson.
Jackson looks uncomfortable again until Lydia looks at him with imploring eyes, and he sighs dramatically.
"I remember a lot from what happened - you know -" He waves his hand a little, and Stiles grimaces. What Matt and Gerard did to Jackson is awful. That Jackson has the memories of it is pretty gruesome. "-and you were in a lot of those memories. I - well, Lydia talked to me about it almost all night, and it's clear that you helped a lot with everything. Not only last night but also before that. You may have used a lot of the wrong methods, like kidnapping-" "Hey! I did what I could!" But Jackson keeps going as if Stiles didn't say anything at all. "-trying to save those people at the rave, you - even if you don't like me - you did try to save me." Jackson is silent for a moment. Stiles just gapes at him because he wasn't expecting any of this. He glances at Lydia to check if it's a trap or a joke or something.
"What I'm trying to say is - thank you, Stilinski." Jackson actually seems pained by that sentence, and it startles a laugh out of Stiles.
"Jesus, when I thought my life couldn't get any weirder." He murmurs while rubbing his head and face, flinching again when he feels the stinging pain on his cheek.
"I also want to thank you. I'm still mad at being kept in the dark for so long. Honestly, you should've known that I could've helped you. Not just with those Latin translations but -"
"Yeah, yeah, I know. It was a clusterfuck—all of it." He then starts to laugh a little hysterical. "But I don't have to worry about it anymore! Derek said I wasn't pack, so why the fuck should I still care? Scott doesn't even know if I'm alive, if Allison is in smelling distance or texting distance, and he worked together with the asshole who beat me up. So he can go fuck himself for all I care." Stiles rants, feeling himself getting angrier with the second. His anger feels like it's burning inside of him, but he wants to let it all out for once. Not caring that his long-time crush is here to see it.
''Stiles-''
"I mean, what is ten years of friendship, right?! When you just ignore your best friends phone calls while he's drowning because he's holding up an Alpha werewolf for about two hours-" The heat in his chest is expanding, and he is feeling a little scared in the back of his mind because he hasn't been angry like this in - ever.
''Stile-''
"In eight feet of water! Or when he tried to kill me because his wolfy ass didn't listen to me! And no, not once, not twice, but at least three times of this shit!"
"STILES!"
"WHAT!?" He bellows. Turning to Lydia and Jackson, who both look terrified. Jackson is shielding Lydia, and Stiles is confused for a moment. Why are they so scared? It's not as if Jackson can't hold Stiles down if he loses it and attacks them, which would never happen.
But then Stiles sees that they aren't exactly staring at him but at something behind him. He turns and gasps. Everything that was standing in the kitchen is hovering about three feet in the air. Stiles reaches out in morbid curiosity, he touches a plate with his finger, and everything crashes down to the floor. He leaps about a foot in the air and flails before falling down and bashing his elbow onto the kitchen counter.
"Oooooww." He groans out.
He opens his eyes when he feels a hand on his face. Lydia is kneeling next to him, looking shaken but determined.
"Are you okay?" She asks softly.
"No. What the fuck was that?" And if Stiles's voice wavers a little, he will deny it if anyone brings it up.
She bites her lip and looks back at Jackson. He is nodding, Stiles doesn't know why he's nodding, but he really wants to ignore everything now. Why didn't he stay in bed?
Lydia looks at him again and brushes her hand through his buzzcut. It - it feels really fucking good. He leans into the touch like a cat. (When they want to be petted.)
"I - I had a feeling that we needed to come here. And for some reason, I had a feeling that there was something with you. You need help, Stiles. Jackson and I are going to help you."
"With what?" He asks after a while, he doesn't want to cry, but his voice is thick with emotion.
"With whatever you need. We're here for you, just like you were there for us."
He doesn't know how it happens, but Lydia freaking Martin guides him to the couch in the living room before she and Jackson clean up the kitchen while he takes a nap. When he wakes up because Jackson pokes him on his shoulder, he sits up groggily. He really wasn't expecting them to still be here.
"Lydia has ordered food, come, eat something."
Then Jackson marches out of the living room without another word, and Stiles just mouths 'what the fuck' to himself before standing and following him to the kitchen.
Lydia has spread sushi all over the table because, of course, she ordered sushi. He sits down carefully, not really believing this isn't a dream. A really, really, really weird dream, but hey, Stiles has a wild imagination.
They eat in silence for a moment, and Stiles actually enjoys the sushi, he doesn't really eat it much because his dad, Scott, and he are more fans of pizza and burgers, but it tastes good.
Lydia then dabs her mouth with a napkin and then starts talking.
"We should start with research about what happened."
Stiles eyes her warily. She sighs before speaking again.
"You lost your temper, Stiles, and something happened. We need to figure out what so it won't happen again. Don't you agree?"
Stiles knows she's right, and it hurts. Not that she's right, because it's Lydia, and Lydia is almost always right. But the fact that if he loses control, something bad happens. He suddenly can understand why Scott thought the bite was a curse.
"I agree. But where to start?" He asks, sounding small. He doesn't want to hurt anyone. He flinches a little when he feels a hand on his shoulder, only to look up into Jackson's blue eyes.
"Where did you find out about werewolves?" Jackson says, ignoring the way how Stiles flinched. Stiles scoffs a little in response before answering.
"Internet, and then some of Derek, a little from books I ordered online and seemed legit. And a couple of books I borrowed from Deaton." He shrugs when he sees them looking at him with something akin to respect.
"Deaton? As in the vet?" Lydia says with a scrunched-up nose.
"Borrowed?" Jackson asks with raised eyebrows and a smirk. Stiles smirks back at him because, damn, Jackson seems to understand what Stiles wasn't saying. And oh god, Stiles probably has a concussion if he finds some kind of kinship with Jackson freaking Whittemore.
"Borrowed, taken without asking permission, to - may -to, to - mah - to. And yes, Deaton as in the vet. Cryptic asshole." Stiles mumbles the last part, but Jackson still barks out a laugh. Stiles raises his eyebrows at the jock, who seems surprised himself. He's back to scowling now.
It's silent again for a moment, and then Stiles reaches out to take the last salmon roll, but before he can take it, Jackson grabs his wrist and growls.
Stiles is taken aback for a moment, but then his temper rises again. The heat in his chest is back. He has had enough growling at him to be done with it altogether. Who do those wolves think they are?
"Down puppy!" He says, and to his and everyone's surprise, Jackson lets him go and sits back. Jackson gapes at him, and Stiles thinks about saying something as an apology, but then Jackson tilts his head and bares his throat at Stiles.
Everybody freezes. Stiles is pretty sure he even stops breathing for a moment, but then he reaches out and puts his hand on Jackson's throat. He knows what this means, and his hand is shaking a little. Should he actually do this? But something in him tells him that he needs to. That it feels right. Jackson leans into the touch, and they both gasp when they feel something snap in place in their chest.
"What the fuck was that?" Stiles asks in awe.
"I can feel you," Jackson says, and the open look he has on his face makes Stiles do what he does next.
He turns fully to Jackson and pulls him into a hug. Jackson is rigid for a moment but then sags into Stiles's embrace with a whine that could have come from a wounded animal.
"You're his Alpha," Lydia says after a couple of moments where Stiles and Jackson just cling to each other. She sounds like she's in awe, and Stiles carefully untangles himself from Jackson, who pouts from the loss of contact.
"I'm not a werewolf. How can I be his Alpha?" Stiles asks, but even when he says it, he knows Lydia is right. He can feel it inside of him. He can feel a rope? Teter? Bond? Something like that between them, at the moment it still feels fragile and small, but for some reason, he knows it will grow stronger if they work on it.
"Well, it's clear that you're something." Lydia huffs, and Stiles starts to laugh, because well, yeah, she's right. He's something. And here, he thought that he was the token human. The boy that ran with wolves, well fuck y'all, Stiles is something.
*****
Lydia and Jackson stay the rest of the day, Jackson stays even within touching distance. Stiles had grumbled about his pain and that Jackson should be a painkiller, but Jackson just looked at him as if he had grown two heads. And then Stiles felt like an idiot because Jackson hadn't gotten wolfy 1.01. He then starts to explain that Jackson should be able to take his pain. He tried to describe how Derek had explained it, and Jackson listened intently, and after about fifteen minutes, he succeeded. He looked so proud that Stiles wanted to clap his hands.
Stiles explains as much as he knows about wolves to Jackson and tried to help him with his control. He was Jackson's Alpha now, so he should try to do something, right? Right.
Lydia read through books Stiles had gathered and chipped in when she read something so Stiles could explain how he had experienced it with Scott. At the end of the day, Jackson seemed way more relaxed, maybe because he feels better in his own skin, or maybe because he is more relaxed now he has an Alpha that grounds him even if Stiles didn't know what the hell he was doing.
Then his dad came home and flipped when he saw Jackson Whittemore practically on his son's lap while they were watching a movie. It also didn't help that Lydia Martin was sitting on Stiles's other side with her head against Stiles's shoulder. It probably was a weird sight for the Sheriff.
The Sheriff and the teens stare at each other for a couple of minutes until the Sheriff scrapes his throat. "Uh- Stiles, do you have a minute so we can talk?" Stiles nodded and started to stand, Jackson following him as he had done for the entire day. "In private." John Stilinski adds in a no-nonsense tone, making Jackson freeze in his tracks and sit back down with a pout.
Stiles wanted to laugh, but he could understand how weird everything looked to his father and quickly followed him into the kitchen. When he entered the kitchen, his dad had already gotten out a tumbler and the whiskey, to Stiles's dismay. The drinking wasn't as bad as when his mother had died, but he rather not see his father drink.
But Stiles keeps silent and would stay quiet until his dad would talk. His dad drinks his first glass and waves at Stiles to sit down. He does as asked and sits down.
"So. Are you going to lie to me again, or are you going to tell me the truth for the first time in months?" His dad calmly asked, but Stiles flinches as if he's hit. He could hear a whine from the living room, and before he can do anything, Jackson is next to him with a growl aimed at his father. His eyes flashing electric blue and shining fiercely, a hint of fang sprouting from his mouth.
Stiles stands and puts a hand on Jackson's neck to calm him down, but the damage was already done.
"What the actual hell is happening here?!" His dad screams in a strained voice. His dad was looking between Jackson and Stiles like he was looking at a ghost. Well, Stiles can't talk himself out of this...
"Stiles, step back from Jackson and come stand next to me." His dad said carefully as if he expected Jackson to attack at any moment. Jackson growls again, and seriously. Not. Helping. Stiles squeezes Jackson's neck a little, and Jackson looks down in submission. Lydia also entered the kitchen now but stayed in the entrance.
"No, dad. Jackson isn't going to hurt you. He just responded to how I reacted to you. He can't help the instinct." Stiles starts in a wary tone.
"What do you mean? Instinct? What the-"
"Dad. Please. Sit down, and I'll explain, okay?" Stiles is aware that he sounds about twenty years older right now. Hell, he feels like it too. His dad seems suspicious but listens and sits down. Lydia quickly pours him another glass and takes a seat next to him.
Stiles gathers his thoughts a moment. He wanted to keep his dad out of everything supernatural, but the gig is up. Stiles is probably supernatural himself, and he shouldn't keep his dad out of that. He doesn't deserve that.
"I don't know exactly how I should start, but do you remember that night you found me in the woods? When part of Laura Hale's body was found, and you and your deputies searched for the other half?"
His dad nods numbly and takes a sip of his drink before Stiles starts talking again.
"I was there to search for the body with Scott. Yeah, he was in the woods too that day. I only didn't rat him out. I figured out later that I should have because he was bitten that night by a werewolf." His dad looks incredulous, and Stiles can see that he doesn't believe a thing Stiles is saying.
''Sti-'' But Stiles quickly interrupts him.
"Jackson, could you shift for my dad?" Stiles is tired and done with all this shit. Jackson does as asked and shifts to his beta form in front of his dad, who almost falls off his chair.
His dad gapes at Stiles, then at Jackson, then back at Stiles, then at Lydia before snapping his mouth shut and giving Stiles the sign to continue. Jackson shifts his face back to normal, and Stiles starts telling his dad everything. About Scott, Derek, Peter, the Argents, Jackson, Lydia, Erica, Boyd, Isaac, everything that happened the past year.
When he tells his dad about the Kanima, he feels that Jackson is getting agitated. He raises his arm so Jackson can hug him for comfort. It should probably scare him that he is Jackson's Alpha and that this all comes so naturally to him, but he can feel what he should do, and he was always a caring person. He took care of Scott for years during their friendship, he takes care of his dad by watching how he eats, and he took care of his mom when she was dying. And he was just eight years old back then.
His dad looks cautious and takes another sip while listening intently to his son. When Stiles is done, he is still comforting Jackson by rubbing his back while Jackson has his face in Stiles's neck.
"So let me get this straight. Gerard Argent kidnapped you and hit you?" His dad seethes, which is a little hilarious because there wasn't really anything supernatural with that.
"Yup. But we think he's dead. I'm not sure. His body was gone when I went home last night."
"I will find that motherfucker and I-"
"Dad! Dad! Calm down. Is that seriously where you're going to focus on now? Not on the whole werewolves and magic are real, and my son is the Alpha of a werewolf and is probably magic himself?"
"To be honest, I'm still progressing that." His dad admits with pursed lips.
Lydia places a hand on John Stilinski's hand, and he looks at her.
"I'm also still progressing everything. I just found out everything yesterday. But you're taking it well." She says with a smile. His dad's shoulders sag a little. Comforted by the words.
"Okay, so what now?" John says while looking at the three teens in his kitchen.
"We are going to find out what I am and try finding out what Lydia is."
"What do you mean finding out what Lydia is?" Lydia says in a put-out voice and a glare.
"Sorry, princess, but it's clear you're something. At least you're not human. Otherwise, you would have been turned by the bite. And let's not forget that Peter used you to come back to the living through you."
Lydia purses her lips and shudders. Jackson quickly goes to her and throws an arm around her shoulders for comfort, clearly not amused by the change of events. His dad looks pained, and Stiles can almost read his mind why he looks like that.
His dad straightens and nods.
"Okay, fine, you are all going to research what you could be. Mister Whittemore, do your parents know that you're here?"
"No, sir."
"You should let them know and probably retract the restraining order against my son because otherwise, I need to ask you to leave."
"That's already done, sir. I asked my dad this morning to retract that. He wasn't pleased, but he said he would do it as soon as possible."
The Sheriff gives him a small smile and nods. "Good to know. For tonight, are you going home?"
Jackson actually panics for a moment, and Stiles quickly reassures him that if he doesn't want to go, he can stay.
"If Jackson is staying, I will be staying too," Lydia adds with a stubborn tilt to her chin.
"That's fine. I already thought you two would stay after everything, and certainly, because Jackson almost can't detach himself from my son." His dad adds warily.
Stiles grins to himself. He doesn't know why but he feels pretty happy that Lydia and Jackson won't leave him.
His dad pulls Stiles into a hug before he tells them that he is going to bed. It has been a long night and early morning, and Stiles can relate.
The three of them also make their way upstairs. Stiles shows them the guest bedroom. Then he grabs some shorts and shirts they could borrow for sleeping and goes to his own room. He feels a little sticky, so he decides to go to the bathroom first to shower.
When he enters his own bedroom, Jackson and Lydia are both lying on his bed curled around each other and almost asleep.
"Oookayyy, I'm going to be honest here, but this is pretty much the start of a couple pretty vivid dreams I had." He says with a crazy-sounding chuckle, because seriously? What is his life? His crush in his bed with her hot boyfriend, yes, Stiles can admit that Jackson is hot. Everybody can see that. He was just always an asshole, well, until today.
Jackson looks at him with a smirk.
"Come to bed, Stilinski."
"Fine, but don't judge me tomorrow morning." He grumbles, but he does as asked and climbs into his bed. Jackson is in the middle, spooning with Lydia on his right. Stiles shuffles a little but feels a lot of awkward. How is he going to sleep like this? He is used to starfish all over the bed. He keeps moving until Jackson grunts when Stiles pokes him in the ribs with his elbow.
"Sorry."
"Jesus, Stiles, just be Jackson's big spoon." Lydia snaps from her place next to Jackson. Stiles freezes because what? Wait, did she - what?
"What?" He squeaks. It's a manly squeak. Totally manly, men can squeak manly. Shut up.
Jackson sighs, turns, pulls Stiles closer, then turns around again and grabs Stiles's left arm, drapes that one over his middle, and shuffles a little until he's comfortable.
Stiles doesn't dare to move, but he feels himself getting more tired after ten minutes of tense silence. He shuffles a little closer and puts his other arm under Jackson's head. He feels Lydia's hair on his arm, and he's pretty sure he died and gone to heaven because holy shit!
He doesn't know how long he lies there, but he can hear Lydia and Jackson breathe deeper and deeper until he's sure they're asleep. He soon settles enough to drift asleep too.