Lydia is going to be fine. She is.

That's not what the doctors are saying, but Jackson knows she will be. She's tough, Jackson knows. Even if she doesn't look it right now, lying in the hospital bed with tubes in her arms and a mask over her face. He knows it.

Jackson was the first to get to the hospital—he'd followed along behind the ambulance—but he isn't alone for very long. Lydia's parents, the Sheriff and a few other police officers all arrive barely seconds after him. Allison appears not long after, but she says nothing and leaves almost immediately. She's the odd man out. Everyone else who arrives has something to say—actually, shout.

The first one to shout at him was Lydia's father. He'd shouted that Jackson should have protected her, that it should be him in the hospital instead of her. Jackson didn't disagree. He knows he's failed Lydia, not just tonight, but for a long time. Lydia's father didn't shout for very long, because he started to cry and had to go away. Jackson was thankful for that, because he'd almost started to cry too, and he didn;t want anyone to see that.

After that Sheriff Stilinksi shouted at him for a while, demanding to know where the hell Jackson was and why he didn't protect her. Jackson got mad and told him it was Stiles who'd taken Lydia to the dance, not him.

When Stiles showed up, the Sheriff shouted at him too. Now they're out in the hallway, shouting at each other. Jackson doesn't know about what, except that apparently Scott McCall is missing. Jackson never thought he'd actually miss that guy, or wish he was around, but he does now because Scott is the only one who can actually deal with all this werewolf shit. The world must really be going to hell.

Eventually the Sheriff finishes yelling at Stiles, and Jackson finally gets the chance to talk to him alone.

"Did you find him?" Jackson asks, pulling Stiles aside. "Is he alright? Did they hurt him? Because I will fucking kill every single one of them—"

"No, I didn't find him," Stiles says, rolling his eyes. Jackson gapes at him. "I mean, I tracked Scott's phone and found his location. Peter's going there now."

"What? You let Peter go on his own?"

"I didn't let Peter do anything, dude," Stiles snaps. "Wanna see what he did to my keys, so I couldn't follow him?" Stiles rummages around in his pocket for a moment and then pulls out a keychain with three bent keys on it. "Look, you see?"

"We'll take my car then, come on," Jackson grabs Stiles' arm and tries to pull him towards the elevator, but Stiles yanks his arm away. "Stiles, please! Derek is in serious trouble and right now the only help coming for him is the psycho who killed his sister. I can't—he needs me—"

"Boys!" Stiles and Jackson both jump, and Jackson turns around to see an angry looking nurse in pink scrubs glaring at them from down the hall. "I don't know what your problem is but might I remind you that you are in a hospital," She snaps. "Show a little respect, or I'll have security escort you out."

Jackson glances down at his shoes. "Uh, sorry... ma'am," He mumbles. He wonders well the hell she was when everyone else was shouting.

The nurse gives him a look, and then disappears down the hall. Jackson turns back to Stiles, and makes himself keep his voice low. "Look, Scott's missing too, remember?" He says. "What if they figured out he's... y'know, what he is... and they got them? He could be with Derek right now. We have to go."

Stiles glares at him for a moment, and says nothing. He glances behind Jackson, at Lydia's hospital room, and then grits his teeth. "Did you bring the porsche?" He asks.

Jackson blinks a few times, surprised. "Yeah," He says, digging in his pocket for a moment. He takes out his keys, which Stiles immediately grabs from his hands.

"Good," Stiles says. "I'll drive." The tone of his voice dares Jackson to protest. Jackson doesn't. Without Stiles he has no way of knowing where Derek is being held, not to mention how to go about actually getting him out. Peter was right about Stiles being the clever one. All Jackson is is just a pretty face. Stiles is the one that will know what to do, and letting him wreck his car (and Jackson just knows that the car is going to get wrecked, he knows it) is a miniscule price to pay for his help.

The plan is to get out of the hospital and to where ever Derek is as fast as possible, but on the way out Jackson and Stiles hit a roadblock in the form of Chris Argent and two other hunters.

"Boys," Chris says. There's a small smile on his face and while it's not quite as terrifying as Peter's, it's not exactly comforting, either. "I was wondering if you could tell me where Scott McCall is?"

"Scott McCall?" Stiles asks, fiddling with Jackson's keys. "Um, haven't seen him since the dance. Jackson, you?"

Chris shifts his attention to Jackson, who looks back and forth between him and Stiles with slight panic. He hasn't seen Scott either, but somehow the words are stuck in his throat. "Um... I..."

Beside him, Stiles lets out a low sigh. "For the love of God..." He says under his breath. Jackson feels his face flush.

Next thing he knows, Chris Argent has grabbed them both by their collars and thrown them into an empty hospital. As he locks the door, Jackson can feel Stiles giving him a look that says that he's going to kill him. If they don't wind up dying tonight, that is.

One of the other hunters holds Jackson back while Chris Argent slams Stiles into a wall and shouts at him. Stiles snaps back sarcastic replies and refuses to show any fear. Jackson cannot fathom how he's doing that; he's freaking out. Thinking about all the guns he know Chris owns and wondering if he'd brought any of them with him. He wouldn't shoot them, would he? Jackson has no idea. Considering Beacons Hills tendency to attract psychopaths, it doesn't seem all that unlikely.

As Jackson listens to Chris and Stiles shout at each other, he begins to get the idea that he's missing something. Something big, actually. Bigger the fact that apparently Stiles has had to chain Scott to the radiator before, to keep from getting killed (which is pretty fucking big, actually. He's starting to think maybe this whole werewolf thing isn't as glamourous as it sounds).

The shouting stops, and Chris and Stiles stare at each other for a moment. The hunter holding Jackson glances at his comrade on the other side of the room, and they raise their eyebrows. At least Jackson isn't the only one who has no idea what's going on.

Jackson has most definitely missed something really fucking important, because a moment later Chris steps back from Stiles, and says "get out of here." Then he motions to the other hunters, and the three of them leave.

Stiles collapses back against the wall and puts his head in his hands. "Jesus fucking christ," he mutters. Jackson just stares at him with an open mouth, not sure what to do or say. Stiles gives himself a shake, and takes his hands away from his eyes. "Alright, we better get going."

Jackson follows Stiles out of the hospital and down to the parking garage. It's only when they're in his car and screeching down the pavement that he finally remembers how to talk again. "Stiles, what the hell was that?"

"What was what?" Stiles asks, staring straight out the window shield. There's a hard look on his face, and his knuckles are bright white on the steering wheel.

"What was what? Are you freaking kidding me? You, and Allison's Dad, what the hell were you two talking about? What code? Who broke it? What does this have to do with Derek's fire? What the fuck is going on?" Jackson looks out the window and notices where they're headed. "Are we going to the school?"


Jackson blinks in disbelief. "Derek's being held at the school?"


"Then why the fuck are we going there? Stiles—"

"Weapons, Jackson," Stiles interrupts. "Trust me, we'll need them."

"Weapons?" Jackson furrows his brow and stares at Stiles. "What the hell kind of weapons do they have at school?"

"Self igniting Molotov cocktail," Stiles says, in a plain, monotone voice. "She might be in a coma, but Lydia Martin is going to save the day."

By the time Jackson and Stiles arrive at the Hale house (Stiles can't explain why they'd be keeping Derek at his own house but he assures him that's where he is) all hell has broken loose. Jackson sees Allison crouching over the body of her father. He doesn't know if he's dead or unconscious. He sees Scott fighting the huge wolf-like monster that he knows is Peter Hale. This is the first clear look Jackson's ever really gotten at Peter like this, and it's horrible. The awful glowing red eyes that he knows, mangled fangs protruding from thick pink gums. It's so much worse than any nightmare he's ever had.

Even more terrifying than the things he sees on the Hale's front lawn is what he doesn't see; Derek. Derek isn't there, and Jackson is the most frightened he's been all night long.

Scott and Peter are facing off against each other, and Peter growls and is about to lunge at Scott when Stiles honks the cars horn. Peter's attention is drawn to them and Jackson's eyes get wide as those awful red eyes look in their direction. But Stiles is ready for him, and he pulls his arm back and flings Lydia's cocktail at him.

Peter catches it.

Jackson hears Stiles says "Oh, damn," as he stares with wide eyes and an open mouth at the beaker in the Alpha's hand. Jackson is sure that they're all doomed, but then Scott shouts Allisons name and tosses her a bow. Allison grabs it and sends an arrow flying at the beaker, causing it to shatter and ignite, just like Lydia had said it would.

Jackson looks down at the bomb in his hand, and then throws his too. It shatters against him, and fire blankets Peter's body. He stumbles backwards, howling in pain. The smell of burnt hair and smoking flesh fills the air, and Jackson thinks he may vomit. He knows who Peter is and what he's done, knows that he's killed people and would keep on doing so if he wasn't stopped, but as he watches Peter fall to the ground, blackened, bloodied and back in human form, he can't help but feel horrified at what he's just done. What they've all done.

Stiles is staring at Peter with a look that's more relief than horror, and Allison and Scott are actually staring at each other. Smouldering werewolves can wait, they have googly eyes to make.

Scott is on all fours as Allison approaches him, and kneels down in front of him. It occurs to Jackson that this is probably the first time Allison's seen Scott all wolfed out (come to think of it, this is the first time Jackson has too. It's almost impressive that even as a werewolf, McCall still looks like a huge dork). She kisses him, and Scott slowly shifts back into human form.

Jackson is thinking he's definitely about to vomit, when he looks up and sees Derek standing in the front doorway.

Somehow Jackson manages to keep the contents of his stomach down, and he half runs and half stumbles towards Derek, tripping up the front steps as though he were drunk. He sort of feels like he is.

Derek opens his mouth to say something but Jackson grabs two fists full of his jacket and pulls Derek towards him, slamming their mouths together with enough force to bruise. Derek is alive, here's he in front of him and alive and alright and Jackson's thanking every god who's name he can remember from every and any religion he can think of.

"You stupid fucking idiot," Jackson mumbles, as he goes from kissing Derek's mouth to kissing his ear and his neck and all over his face. "Give me all these rules for keeping myself out of trouble then go and get yourself kidnapped, you idiot..." Derek's hands are on his hips, under his suit jacket, and his fingers dig almost painfully into his sides as Derek kisses him back. He takes that as a sign that Derek is just as happy to see him.

The pressure of Derek's fingers eases up, and he feels Derek pull away from him. Jackson immediately tightens his grip on Derek's jacket. "No, no moving. You're not going anywhere. Stay." Jackson tells him. Derek just gives him a look, and Jackson thinks it's supposed to be annoyed, but Jackson can see too much exhaustion and sadness behind it for it to be effective.

Derek's eyes move past Jackson to look at something behind him, and Jackson turns to see what. He follows Derek's gaze to Peter's charred body, and sees it give a painful jerk. He realizes that somehow Peter is still alive. "I have to finish this," Derek says quietly. Jackson's fingers stay firm on his jacket. He doesn't want to let Derek go, to walk across the lawn and kill his last living family member. It's not fair. "Jackson..."

Jackson sighs quietly and closes his eyes. It's different this time, quiet and soft instead of stern and controlling, but still Jackson loves the way Derek says his name. It makes him feel like he's something that belongs to him. He really likes that. Probably because he's never really belonged to anyone before.

Jackson feels his fingers loosen, and slowly and reluctantly he lets go of Derek.

Derek walks off the porch, and slowly approaches the only thing that remains of his family. He stands over him, and looks down at Peter's body. It's still smoking.

"Wait!" Scott shouts, stumbling over with a panicked look in his eyes. "You said the cure comes from one that bit you," Jackson sees Derek close his eyes, and he wishes he had something to throw at Scott to get him to shut up.

He doesn't, so instead he just snaps "Shut up, Scott."

Scott turns to Jackson. "If Derek does this, I'm dead," He says. He gestures back towards Allison. "Her father, her family—what am I supposed to do?"

Derek is silent. On the ground, Peter's body begins to shake, and Jackson realizes he's trying to speak. His voice is raspy and dry, and blood behinds to trickle out from the burns around his throat and mouth as it moves. "You've... already... decided..." Peter chokes out. "I can smell it on you," Peter's eyes glow red and his body shakes, as though he's trying to shift one last time. Before he can, Derek raises a clawed hand, and as Scott shouts for him to stop, he brings it down across Peter's throat. It mets a wet slurping noise, and blood spurts across the lawn. Peter's body gives one final twitch, and Jackson watches the red fade from his eyes. Then he's still.

Scott's mouth is hanging open in horror, and Allison has her face buried against her fathers shoulder. Derek straightens up and turns around, and Jackson feels his stomach drop. Derek's eyes are bright, monstrous red, and when he speaks his voice is deep and guttural.

"I'm the Alpha now,"

A/N: It is an utmost regret of mine that I couldn't put in everyone's reactions to Derek and Jackson kissing. The story is from Jackson's POV, and at the time he was way too focused on Derek to realistically give a shit about anyone else. It makes me sad, because I bet the looks on Chris and Allison's faces were fucking hilarious.

Next chapter=final chapter.

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