1. time and glass - teen wolf ᵈᵉʳᵉᵏ ʰᵃˡᵉ

[6.3] HEART MONITOR: act three

- HIGH SCHOOL | LOCKER ROOM -

Scott and Stiles shove their lacrosse equipment back in their gym lockers, meanwhile Alycia waits outside for them. After Stiles' little plan, they left the field to put everything back.

"So, you stay away from her for a few days. You can do that." Stiles says.

"But is it a few days or forever?" Scott sighs.

"You know, this whole woman make you weak thing is a little too Spartan Warrior for me. It's probably just part of the learning process."

"But you've seen Derek. He's totally alone. What if I can't be around her ever again?" Scott asks, looking down.

"If you're not dead that could be a good thing."

"I'd rather be dead."

"You're not going to end up like Derek. We'll figure it out." Stiles assures him. The bell rings, signaling the end of the period. "Come on, let's go. Alycia is waiting for us." He adds.

"Okay. Something in here smells terrible anyway." Scott makes a weird face.

"In here? In a locker room? Why that simply makes no sense at all." Stiles says sarcastically.

"I mean it smells like something's rotting. Or dying..."

As Scott follows Stiles out, a pale Jackson steps from between the lockers, watching them go. Circles under his eyes, lips dry and cracked, the usually handsome young man looks frighteningly sick.

Alone, he approaches the mirrors and twists around to try to view the back of his neck.

Pulling his shirt off to get a better look, he brings a hand up to the bandage. He feels at it with his fingertips. The gauze has turned a sickening yellow.

The bandage peels off and he lets it slip to the sink.

He touches the marks, fingers coming back with a strange pus on the tips. Overcome by nausea, Jackson gags, eyes squeezing shut.

Then, gripping the sink with both hands, he begins to retch, mouth opening as if to vomit.

And then, something starts to come out of his mouth.

A clawed finger

Then two and three. Like the claws of a crab, grasping at the air, trying to find something to hold onto while seeking their way out of Jackson's mouth as he whips his head up to his reflection and suddenly everything is normal again.

Breathing hard and harsh gasps, Jackson looks at himself.

He feels at the nape of his neck, wiping away the excess peroxide. All he sees in the mirror now is his own face.

The frightened eyes of a teenage boy.

- HIGH SCHOOL | CORRIDOR -

Books piled beside her, Allison sits under her locker in the corridor while reading. A few remaining students amble their way down the hall in between periods.

Allison remains transfixed by her book when one person slowly approaches and stops to look down at her.

"What are you reading?"

Allison glances up at Jackson, startled.

"Oh, hey. Just stuff for a history project." She answers. He drops his bag and sits next to her under the lockers. Uncomfortably close to her. "You have a free period?" She asks.

"No. I just don't feel like sitting through Chem."

"Understandable. Um... did you want something?" Allison asks, giving him a smile.