She's The One //Teen Wolf

Chapter 38

| Revised Chapter |

Jackson's POV

I was lifting pound after pound, weight after weight. The music that I was playing was helping me keep my stamina up. I had two sixty pound weights in each hand, lifting them on a bench. I let out a loud cry of pain, the burn I felt in my arms was a pleasuring feeling, knowing that the outcome would be beneficial.

Then the music stopped.

"Hey!" I shouted, dropping the weights and walking over to my radio, only seeing legs covered in dark jeans.

"I like your taste in music. I haven't heard this one in a long time," Derek turned my iPod on and hooked it to my iHome.

The music filled the locker room and I turned to grab my lacrosse stick. I was breathing heavily, because of my workout. "I'm not scared of you," Derek stood up and walked around the bench. "Come on. I'm not afraid."

He stood right in front of me, his signature smirk plastered on his face. "Yeah, you are. You know I bet you haven't had a day in your whole life, where you haven't been afraid of something. But you won't have to be anymore. Not when your one of us."

Derek walked out of the room and I trailed behind, eager to be one of them.

A werewolf.

I wasn't really thinking it through, I realized. There were a bunch of things I didn't know, but I didn't really care. Everything seemed to be working just fine for McCall.

We walked towards a burnt down house. "This is it? This is the place?"

The older man nodded and looked at the home. "Go in."

I hesitated, not sure if I could trust him. "Is it safe? I don't want rafters falling on my head."

"Go in."

I slowly walked up the steps and looked back at Derek. "What's in here?"

"Everything you want." He vaguely answered.

I outstretched my hand to open the faded red door, it creaked as I opened it. Derek grabbed my shoulder, startling me. "It's going to be alright. Trust me."

"This house, it's the same house," I observed, the staircase was the same one as the one in my nightmares.

"What'd you say?"

"I've dreamt about this place. I remember the staircase, these walls. I remember it, everything." I admitted, taking in all the features of the burnt home.

"You've been in here?" Derek asked, sounding suspicious. I looked him in the eye and shook my head in denial.

"No never, I dreamt it. There's no one else here." He nodded in confirmation to my accusing tone. "And no one else is coming?" He again agreed silently, and the only thing I heard was his claws protruding from his nails.

My breathing grew ragged and suddenly all I wanted was to rewind what just happened. Stay at the gym.

I shouldn't have come here.

"No, please." I tripped on the stairs, falling down to a sitting position, on the black crisped wood. "Please don't, okay. I'll shut up. I'll never say another word again, I'll leave Scott alone. Please you can't do this. Please! I don't—I don't deserve it," I chocked on my own tears.

"I think you do," Derek disagreed advancing towards me one step at a time.

"No!" I shouted, scared that he was going to kill me right on the spot.

"Look around you. Wouldn't there be someone here trying to save you? There's no one here. There's a reason no one's here. No one cares that you drive an expensive car. No one cares that you have perfect hair. No one cares, that you're captain of lacrosse team."

"Excuse me." Scott spontaneously appeared from the top of the staircase with Layla beside him, a hard look on her face and a gun pointed at Derek. "Co-captain." McCall jumped from the top of the stairs and landed in front of me in a perfect crouch. He turned to look at me, his face shifted into a more animalistic shape.

Derek's doing the same, his eyes a brilliant shade of blue, and a challenging growl escaping his lips. "Watch it Derek, I'd hate to have to kill my big brother." Layla sardonically spoke, walking down the steps to stand right in front of me. Her voice sounded less like the Layla I knew and someone much different.

Wait, brother?

"Move," Derek growled at Scott, the words muffled because of the sharp K-9's he now sported.

"No."

"Fine, I'll kill you too."

A ping sounded from behind Derek and he ducked immediately. "Close your eyes!" He shouted and I grabbed Layla, holding her underneath me so she wouldn't get hurt.

A flash of light ignited from the opposite side of the stairs.  A shower of bullets shot through the already beat up house. "Scott go!" Derek yelled, hiding behind a wall.

I looked to see Scott bleeding from his stomach and his mouth. Derek got up and grabbed Scott, shouting for him to run.

All of us left, me holding Layla tight to my side.

"Scott!" She shouted, chasing his falling body. Blood was dripping from his lips and she grabbed his body and propped it against a tree. Her hands running through his hair to comfort him. "Scooby, you've gotta let me check it. I need to see where it hit you." Scott nodded and Layla pulled up his shirt, whimpering when she saw the bullet wound.

A purple gas emitted from it and Layla rested her head on his chest crying. "Allison," he whispered and Layla looked up in surprise.

"Allison," She repeated. "It was the Argents. Help me take him somewhere."

I helped her lead him to my car, setting down a jacket so he couldn't bleed all over the seats. "Where are we taking him?" I asked, getting into the drivers seat while she sat in the passenger one, leaning back to tell Scott to keep pressure on the injury.

"Animal clinic."

The keys were in he ignition and the engine roared to life, but I hesitated before driving. "Are you sure? Why not a hospital?"

"How would you like explaining to his mother that he was shot by hunters because he's a werewolf and if we don't get the bullet out, he's going to die of aconite poisoning."

"Alright, animal clinic it is."

---

"It's alright Scott, you're going to be alright," The bullet was carefully taken out and Scott breathed in a fresh breath of air, making Layla loosen up on the tight grip she had on my hand.

"I wouldn't get up just yet," Doctor Deaton interjected.

McCall looked around in a daze. "Am I-"

"You're fine, and I've given you something that should speed up the healing process." Deaton continued cleaning Scotts bullet wound as gently as possibly.

"But your a vet."

"That's very true, and ninety percent of the time, I'm mostly treating cats and dogs."

"Mostly?" Layla questioned, suddenly much more interested in the conversation.

"Mostly," He confirmed with a grin.

I looked down at her, noticing a red spot in her shirt that I hadn't paid attention to earlier. "Layla you're bleeding."