Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/967087.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Stiles_Stilinski/Jackson_Whittemore
  Character:
      Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Danny_Mahealani, Jackson_Whittemore, Matt
      Daehler, Allison_Argent, Lydia_Martin
  Additional Tags:
      Stackson_-_Freeform, Staxon, Stax, Jacksiles
  Series:
      Part 2 of Hearts_of_Stone_aren't_always_Cold
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-09-15 Chapters: 1/? Words: 4556
****** Not Every Stone is Unbreakable ******
by OmegaMountainLion
Summary
     It's not until he accidentally sees Gerard Argent kidnap Stiles
     Stilinski that he begins to suspect something strange is going on,
     even though the dreams should have been an indication. Jackson slowly
     begins to realize that maybe he has an anchor, and maybe there's a
     way for him to survive being this lizard-thing after all. If only he
     could ask Danny about these things and not Derek Hale or Stiles
     Stilinski.
Notes
     Unbeta'd - Mistakes will be minor if any.
     Further notes at end.
See the end of the work for more notes
He thought the day had started fine, except for a strange encounter with Matt
in the locker room and he thought maybe they had been making out. Matt was not
cute enough for him, though. He was strange, he did not look right, and that
made Jackson feel awkward and uncomfortable. Strangely, he always wanted to
submit to him as well - Jackson had only ever wanted to submit to Lydia before,
so this was increasingly odd. He shrugged off the weird feeling as he focused
on the game at hand, trying to get the ball so he could make the final - and
winning - score.
-
It was an accident, really. Jackson had looked at Stiles after the championship
lacrosse game only to watch him be taken by Gerard. He had tried to change –
even into that horrible monster everyone said he was, to help Stiles, to find
him - a repayment for all of the messed up help he had been given - but it had
not worked, here he was stuck as a useless human. That night, in a pit of his
despair he was able to call forth the icy claws. He had failed at being a
human, being a werewolf, being... Whatever this monster was, until now. He
hated himself for this reason, among so many others, everything was just pure
hatred. He took the claws and brought them down into his arm, digging deep. He
could feel his blood absorbing the venom and ignoring it, his immunity to his
own venom was becoming stronger the longer he was stuck as this creature. He
clenched his teeth and avoided crying out, squeezing his eyes shut as a few
unbidden tears fell slowly down his face. He ripped out his claws and he
repeated the stabbing, choosing a new location each time. Into his stomach.
Into his calf muscles. Into his neck. Finally he stopped, his clothes torn and
bloodied, the strange venom coating so much of his sheets, his bed also covered
in blood and he was breathing heavily from exhaustion and desperate weakness.
His eyes flashed a hollow blue before he faded to sleep, the last thought he
had was Stiles’ face as he was being dragged away by Gerard. The look of fear
and defiance burned into the depths of Jackson’s mind like a brand.
-
That night he dreamt. Of being the monster, the scaly demon, the thing he still
could not remember the name for. He was not alone though, with him was
Stilinski, but it was strange.
“What do you want, loser?” His voice was harsh and cruel. He was surprised he
could speak. Stiles looked over at him. A pale light shining from his face and
stupid haircut.
“I just want to help. I want people to stop dying. I want you to have control.”
Dream-Stiles stepped closer to him, standing only a few inches away, Jackson's
breath caught in his throat.
“Why do you care if I'm in control?! You’re just like Derek, you want me dead!”
His tongue flicked out and he felt extreme rage mixed with fear. Stiles gave
his best ass-wipe smile. He leaned in, the movement seemed to go on forever,
before he was slowly saying;
“This is why,” pressing his lips against Jackson's. Jackson felt the monster
fade away as he began to kiss Stiles back, letting his tongue slowly roll
across the other teenager’s lips. When the kiss broke, he was breathing
heavily, perfectly human again.
“You... you’re…how?” Jackson stumbled over his words and felt himself go pink
from the intensity of it all. The emotions, the questions, it was a lot for him
to deal with all at once.
“A kanima is still a shape-shifter like a werewolf, you just needed an anchor
is all.” Stiles gave Jackson a knowing grin before the dream faded out to empty
blackness.
Shortly thereafter Jackson awoke with a start. In his bed he went rigid, his
mind reeling with what he had seen during the night. Kanima he thought to
himself as he began to move slowly, ignoring the other happenings of the dream.
That’s what I am. A kanima. He looked at himself in the mirror and scowled, he
was still covered in blood and a mess of other fluids. At least he had several
hours until school began, it was only 3.00AM.
-
At school that morning he kept an eye out for Stiles and saw him walking
through the halls, a black eye colorful and dark against his pale skin. He
pushed his way through the slight crowd up to the bruised boy, shouldering a
few people out of his way before he roughly shoved Stiles against a random
locker. Stiles noticed him at the last minute and had failed to escape, Jackson
gave a small grunt of triumph before looking more closely at Stiles’ eye.
“Hey! What do you think you're doing, Jackson!” Stiles' voice cracked, his eyes
flickered with fear even though his face showed defiance.
“Where did you get the black eye?” His voice was harsh. “Was it Gerard?” He
sounded petulant, misdirected, but he did not care.
“Why should you care?!” Stiles’ voice was strained, fear causing it to peak. A
look like the one Gerard had caused flitted across his features before the
teenager began to struggle. Jackson held him firmly, his face moving even
closer to the other’s.
“Just tell me… Was it Gerard?” Jackson steeled his face, but unbidden worry
crept into his voice. Shocked, Stiles nodded his head slowly, his eyes dropped
and a red stain crept up his neck to engulf his face. Was he embarrassed to
admit an old man beat him up? Furthering his visual inspection of Stiles, he
noticed the cut, a slightly swollen lip, and the way his face and hands looked
raw.
“Why do you care?” Stiles’ confusion began to show, his eyes narrowed as he
looked Jackson right in the eye. Jackson released him and glared at the nearby
students. “Besides… It’s not your fault I got beat up by an old man.” Stiles
looked away and shuffled on his feet before making a move to leave.
“I don't. Care, that is. I saw last night. Wanted to repay the favor but
couldn't.” He looked away and grunted. Stiles laughed.
“You mean you can’t control your… change?” His voice held a taunt, a joke, but
the smile left his face as he noticed the pained scowl Jackson flashed him. He
nodded to the ADHD teenager before pulling away.
“Just don’t get hurt again, Stilinski!” He said roughly as he went to turn
away. Stiles stepped close to his ear and in a stage whisper muttered
something, Jackson grunted a quick “What?” and Stiles repeated himself.
“Restraining order!” He said in a singsong voice before jumping away to
presumably go find Scott. Jackson shook his head as Danny walked up to him. He
looked confused but did not ask anything. Jackson gave him a grateful look and
went to his locker, throwing it open and digging around for a few books.
“Chemistry is going to suck.” He said simply, shouldering his bag and walking
away. Danny caught up and placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder, slowing him down
and holding him back.
“Look, I know you won't tell me what's going on with everything with Lydia and
McCall and that. But what was the thing with Stiles?” His voice was calm and
concerned, his brows were furrowed and his usual smile was missing.
“I don't know.” Jackson said truthfully. “I’m trying to figure shit out and
he’s the only one who can really help somehow.” He had been worrying about
Stiles, and after that dream, and several others, he was a bit more than
confused. He knew he was into some guys, but they were always like Derek.
Older, super model-like, mysterious, and the forceful type. Not dorky, spazzes
like Stiles Stilinski. “I'm serious, Danny. I'm not sure.” He shook his head
and blinked a few times.
Danny released his shoulder, “I believe you.” He said quietly, looking
saddened. Jackson gave him a smile and a quick hug. Something he had not done
in a few years. Danny brightened considerably, though Jackson could see the
worry written all over his face. “C’mon. Before we’re late and Harris has a
conniption!” Danny made a quick joke before dragging Jackson down the hall
towards the science wing.
In chemistry, Jackson carefully watched Stiles the entire time, Danny kept
giving him weird looks and Jackson gave in. He grabbed Danny's notebook and
scrawled I'll explain if you come over later. Danny nodded and class passed
uneventfully. Stiles even managed to not set Harris off on a violent tangent.
Jackson did not want the day to start well again before taking another violent
turn.
-
At lunch, Allison and Lydia were sitting together off to one side and Jackson
joined the table at the same time Scott and Stiles showed up. Danny followed
shortly after and took the empty seat next to Stiles, who once again was
badgering him about how attractive he was. Jackson laughed as Danny joked about
the black eye and swollen lip, but Stiles continued to ask. By the fourth or
fifth time he asked, Jackson muttered “Yes” under his breath without really
noticing. Danny gave him a quizzical look, but no one else seemed to have
noticed. He tried to listen to the conversation at hand, but it did not make
that much sense to him. Abruptly Danny stood and Jackson looked up at him
curiously, a confused look passing over his freckled features.
“Look, I know you all have some secret and I've been trying to let you have it.
But if you want to talk about it at lunch, the least you could do is ask me to
leave.” Jackson looked away before staring back up at him, his mouth agape. He
looked back at the others and raised his eyebrows. Danny stood there, crossing
his arms defensively, looking at him expectantly, Scott shook his head no and
Jackson snapped a little.
“It's bad enough Lydia's been dragged into this, but now I can't even tell my
best friend what's wrong with me because of your stupid little friend Derek?
Fuck off, McCall it's my secret and I'll tell who I want.” He stood up and
grabbed the apple from his tray before steering Danny away. He looked back
briefly to see Stiles flailing before he, too, stood up and said something in a
hushed whisper to the table. Jackson smirked a little, and looked at Danny.
“What's going on, Jacks?” Danny asked softly, looking concerned. It did not
really fit his strong, square features. Jackson shook his head as they stopped
outside the cafeteria, leaning back against one of the yellowing school walls,
avoiding the range of the new security cameras.
“A lot. It's... Difficult to explain.” He looked over to see Danny watching him
intently.
“Well, try.” His voice was strong, but careful and cautious. Almost as if he
did not want to know. Just then the cafeteria door flew open with a bang and
Stiles skidded to a stop next to the two of them.
“Uh heyy Jackson, Danny.” He gave them a weird grin. “How's it goin'?” His
voice was queer; strained and Jackson could really see the confusion on Danny's
face now. Jackson gave Stiles a look that said What the fuck but he ignored it.
“What has Jackson said yet?” Jackson froze, his eyes flicked between the two
other teenagers, one tan, the other pale.
“Nothing, but if I may...” Danny grabbed each of them by the arm and dragged
them towards the locker room, kicking the door in and forcing them to go back
to the shower cubicle. “So, why the hell hasn't one of you told me werewolves
exist yet?” Danny's eyes looked frantic and Jackson paled, he had no response
for Danny, had no idea how Danny would have found out. He had known? Stiles was
the first to respond. Danny’s eyes were wide, scared, like he was grabbing for
an answer on his own but was unable to guess what the problem truly was.
“It wasn't your problem. Didn't affect you. Sort of a need-to-know basis here…”
Stiles’ voice was rough and lacked his normal joking attitude, Jackson was
thrown into motion.
“Derek said I couldn't tell you, or anyone, really. And it doesn't really
matter, we're not all werewolves, anyways.” He looked away from Danny feeling
the shame burn up his neck, his cheeks going hot. He blinked a few times before
looking over at Stiles, he looked aghast and crushed all at once.
“Not... All werewolves? And who is Derek?” Danny sounded confused, like he had
gone from wielding power to being a misled dog.
“Miguel.” Stiles said quickly, looking away from Danny with a small smirk.
Understanding brightened Danny's eyes and he let out a small laugh.
“So you don't have a cousin named Miguel?” He looked amused, his emotions
rolling so quickly right now. Jackson felt some of the tension leave his
shoulders as he sighed in relief, maybe this would not be such a disaster after
all.
“Okay, so what about werewolves then?” Danny looked over at Jackson, he felt
his face twist a little. He nodded slowly.
“They're real.” His eyebrows furrowed a bit in anger and discomfort. “But not
all of us are wolves.” He sounded bitter.
“What do you mean?” Danny asked the same time Stiles said, “You don't have to
tell him, Jackson.”
“Shut it, Stilinski. Get the fuck out of here, you're not even our friend.”
Jackson's voice was harsh, he saw the look of hurt, quickly masked by
irritation, flick across Stiles' face. Danny looked a little taken aback and
Jackson saw him give Stiles an apologetic shrug. He left the locker room
stiffly and Jackson winced as the door was forcefully slammed shut.
“Dude, you really need to cut Stilinski a break.” Danny's voice snapped him out
of his momentary wallowing. “He was just trying to help you.” Jackson sighed
and bowed his head in frustration.
“Okay?! I know! But... Just, no one! …has ever wanted to before...” Jackson
turned away from Danny and rested his head against the tiled wall of the
shower. It felt grimy but he did not care, he sighed into the wall before
banging his head upon it once in frustration.
“So, you gonna tell me what's going on around here?” Danny's voice was light,
but Jackson could not take any more jokes. He looked at Danny and slowly said,
“I'm the one killing people.” Danny turned pale as the weight of what Jackson
just said sunk in. “Or the thing… I'm not a werewolf. Something went wrong.
I've been uncontrollably killing people.” He winced at how lame things sounded
and he tried to turn away from Danny, but the other boy gripped his arm.
“What are you then?” He looked scared and concerned, but he was not running
away yet.
“I'm a kanima.” His voice shook, “It's something that exists... Because someone
feels unloved and cold-hearted. You become what you are on the inside.” He
wrenched his arm from Danny's hand and began to walk away, but instead the
other boy came up behind him and swung him around so his back was flat against
the wall, shoulders pinned done beneath the Hawaiian’s broad hands.
“You said it was uncontrollable? Why?” Danny had a determined look in his eyes,
Jackson realized that he was not going to back down. At least not anytime soon.
“Someone or something is controlling me. It makes me change and do... Terrible
things. That night you got paralyzed at the club... Was my fault. Kind of. I
did that.” He closed his eyes and let his legs drop out from underneath
himself. He landed with a harsh thud on the locker room floor, legs splayed and
face clenched in his hands.
“Dude...” Danny's voice was quiet as he moved to sit down, facing Jackson,
crossing his legs in the space between his friend's own. He opened his eyes to
find Danny looking at him intently. “Do you know who is doing this to you?”
Jackson shook his head, taking in a big gulp of air. He smiled a little as his
ears went pink, he was relieved that Danny had yet to run off in anger or
betrayal… or even fear.
“No idea. Stiles thinks it's Matt, but Allison and McCall think it's Gerard.”
He flushed as he realized he had said Stiles and not Stilinski, what if that
dream, and the others like it, meant something? He shook his head a little,
shaking away any entertainments to the thought of liking Stiles.
“Okay, dude, you've been acting weird about Stilinski all day. More than
lately. What is going on there?” Danny was smiling like it was an awesome joke,
waiting to be told. Jackson let out a big huff of air. He did not know what to
say in response, but memories came back to him: he had an idea of where to
start at least.
“Do you remember your twelfth birthday party?” Jackson asked quietly, ears and
throat staying pink. Danny nodded slowly before shaking his head with a
confused look on his face.
“What about it?” Maybe he does not remember, Jackson mused silently.
“After we kissed, you said thank you and that I was the best because I don't
even love boys.” Danny nodded along to what Jackson was saying, he remembered
the day it seemed. At least Jackson sincerely hoped and wanted so. “Well, what
if I told you that kiss meant a lot to me. And it helped me feel normal.
Because I like girls and guys?” Jackson's voice shook as he spoke, his face was
pale and his eyes were tightly closed. Danny opened and closed his mouth a few
times before responding with a wordless hug, gripping Jackson tightly.
“What does this have to do with Stilinski?” He asked dumbly, trying to put the
pieces together. Jackson opened his eyes and whispered a response that Danny
did not hear. “What, Jackson?”
“Because right now I think I like Stiles.” As he admitted it, a single tear
fell from his eye, running down his face to catch in the corner of his mouth.
He shook his head hard and gripped Danny close. Soon, the first tear was joined
by many as he silently sobbed into Danny's shoulder. “I'm such an idiot.” He
whispered, gripping Danny tight enough that he heard the other teenager wince
and gasp. He let go. Danny just looked at him, confusion written across his
face, but his eyes still showed that he cared about Jackson. And that was all
Jackson wanted.
“So, what now?” Danny asked quietly as he stood up, holding out a hand for
Jackson. He gripped it tightly, accepting Danny's help as he stood and dusted
himself off.
“Well, don't tell anyone I'm bisexual.” Jackson said roughly, his face turning
into a cold, dark mask. “Really don't want to deal with that.” He shook his
head and began walking towards the locker room exit, Danny following closely
behind.
“And what about the rest?” He rested a hand on Jackson's shoulder, causing him
to pause and look back at the Hawaiian teenager.
“I need you to stay out of it. I don't want you getting hurt.” Jackson's voice
softened, then he wiped his sleeve across his face, erasing the remnants of his
break down before opening the door and leaving the locker room just as the bell
rang signaling the end of the period. Kids poured from the cafeteria and
amongst the mess Jackson found Stiles' face and watched him walk into his
chemistry lab, followed by Lydia and a few of the wolves. He smiled a little at
how normal everything seemed: unknowingly, ignoring the way Matt was watching
him and continuing on to his final class of the day, before free period.
-
Lacrosse started up with an angry speech from coach, despite their win the
previous night. He was going to make them all finally work for their win and
pay for their mistakes. Then, they could have the rest of practice to scrimmage
and relax a little bit before summer training began in early August. Everyone
groaned at the thought of death sprints in gear.
Jackson took up a spot between Danny and Stiles, with Scott on Stiles' other
side. Danny gave Jackson a knowing glance before the whistle blew and they
worked through sprints. Greenberg called for a break which Finstock graciously
allowed, Stiles was doubled over and Danny was breathing hard, along with
everyone else. Scott, Isaac, and Jackson did not look terribly fazed, but
feigned discomfort and heavy breathing. Jackson looked around as they
dispersed, eyes searching out Stiles, more than once they moved over Matt who
was watching him with an intensity that was frightening.
Jackson's eyes found Stiles easily throughout the sprints and water breaks,
each time he would look over just in time to see the hyperactive teenager dart
his eyes away to stare at Danny, Isaac, or Greenberg. Jackson was not sure why,
but even when Stiles' eyes were not trained on him, he still felt someone
watching him closely. After almost an hour of sprinting and running, Finstock
blew his whistle and yelled out.
“All right, girls. You can have your game now!” Coach’s voice boomed across the
team and a few cheers rose out. This was their last practice of the year, and
they were going to have some fun finally. Jackson smiled in relief and pulled
Scott to one side, as cocaptains of the team they would be captains of the
groups sparring off.
“Danny, my team.” Jackson started off the pickings, choosing the best goalie on
the team. Scott looked over the group assembled before choosing.
“Isaac, over here, man!” Jackson saw him give Stiles an apologetic look with a
small shrug of his shoulders. He returned his attention to the rest of the team
before making a decision.
“Stilinski. You did good last night, do it again or you're dead.” He watched as
shock registered on the faces of the rest of the team, but a few people
laughed. Stiles stood by Danny and Jackson could hear him whispering angrily
with the other teen, confused about the choice. He watched as Scott took Matt,
he called Greenberg, and the choosing continued in the same manner. Then the
scrimmage started, dropping into an easy flow rather quickly. People were not
trying to take each other out, instead leisurely throwing the ball and dodging
feigned tackles.
Nearing the end of practice, Jackson got a pass from Stiles that was actually
passable, with strength behind it and definite direction. He nodded a quick
thanks before turning to shoot on McCall and directly running into Matt. He
fell back and when his head smacked into the ground Matt stooped to help him
up.
“Whatever you've got planned with Stilinski is done now.” He hissed angrily,
pulling Jackson up forcefully. He shook his head and wondered what Matt was
going on about. Then Finstock blew the whistle into his ear.
“What was that Whittemore?! Need something to clear your head?! Everyone hit
the showers! Except Stilinski and Whittemore. Clean this place up!” Coach never
made Jackson do anything and he was vaguely stunned. First the cryptic comment
from Matt and now punishment from Finstock. What was going on? Stiles groaned
and moved to start collecting discarded balls and cones. Jackson just stood
there confused. Jackson began to watch Stiles unbidden, noting how he had
ditched his padding and was moving around in basic workout clothes. Each time
he bent, his shirt rode up his back leaving a patch of exposed skin and
revealing sweat stained boxers. Jackson could not stop staring.
When Jackson finally moved to help Stiles, he was greeted by a bucketful of
lacrosse balls and the sight of seeing the other wearing all the cones on his
head at once.
“C'mon ya lazy ass, let's get these put away so we're not the last ones in the
locker room.” Stiles gave him a look of contempt before shouldering past
despite all of the room he had to go around. Jackson slowly followed the human
into the building, watching as he dropped off the cones before stopping at his
cubby next to Danny's. Jackson put away the bucket and came out in time to see
Stiles drop out of his boxers and walk to the showers. His eyes followed the
white ass that seemed to be glaring at him. Jackson threw off his pads and
angrily undressed, slowly walking to the shower and avoiding Stiles. How was
the locker room already so empty? He wondered quietly.
He cleaned himself off quickly before running the towel over his body as fast
as he could manage. Escaping the building, he nearly ran to his Porsche, having
not seen it. He sped home where he immediately went to collapse on his bed.
Reaching under the pillow his hands landed on the tape that showed what he
really was. He cringed at the thought of it. Instead he went to focus on the
image of Stiles in the shower. Despite not wanting to, he had secretly watched
the other teenager, and now he could relive the moment on his own. Before he
could really do anything though, his eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.
As much as Jackson wanted to believe that he was asleep there was no possible
way he could be. This felt so much more real than his other dreams – but he had
nothing to compare this experience to. He was moving quickly down the street
after having leapt from his bedroom window. His claws skittered on the damp
pavement in the night air, small sparks dancing off the ground around his hands
and feet.
After a few minutes he recognized where he was headed: towards the Stilinski
residence, he tried to stop himself but he could not even slow his own pace. A
hiss escaped his lips as a voice resonated through his mind. “I told you to
stop whatever was going on with Stilinski.” The message was clear and Jackson
could not believe it. Stiles had been right, Matt was the one controlling him.
An enraged hiss that bordered on a whine melted through his lips and around his
tongue. He was quickly directed to Stiles’ window, watching the other teenager
as he messed around on his computer. And he stopped. He could feel that same
outer force urging him on, but he could not move: he had some control. Sitting
here, remembering the night before and how desperate he had been.
Jackson awoke in his bed, spluttering sweat out of his open mouth. He was naked
though he had not undressed himself, the ends of his fingertips were red and
raw and he could barely remember what he had dreamt – if it had even been a
dream at all. All he knew was that he needed to find out if Stiles was okay or
not: he was one of the last people that Jackson wanted to find out he had
attacked… again, he reminded himself.
End Notes
     This is going to be my first "full length" fanfiction - despite
     previous (and undocumented online attempts).
     I honestly don't see very many pieces for Stackson which I
     accidentally came across in a Scisaac fic and decided was fantastic
     (It honestly has similar dynamics to Sterek and Stisaac despite
     popular opinion).
     If you dislike it and wish to comment, be civil at least.
     I am NOT making any attempt at a schedule to write this as I am busy
     with college classes, multiple blogs, and several clubs that are soon
     to start up.
     Additionally, as this is my first piece that requires emphasis and
     italics please bear with me and any mistakes regarding the necessary
     coding for them.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!