TRAITOR 

"even if it's kicking and screaming."

The morning light filtered through the window, casting a soft glow across Stiles room as he reluctantly stirred from his slumber. The prospect of attending morning classes felt more like an unwelcome intrusion into his peaceful realm of sleep. Groaning softly, he buried his face in the pillow, contemplating the goodness of simply staying in bed.

With a heavy sigh, Stiles shifted to do his morning ritual: planting a kiss on the spot where Derek usually lay. The absence of Dereks presence hit him like a punch to the gut, his heart sinking with a weight of realization. Derek hand not come back, and a wave of unease washed over him as he reached out, his hand grazing the vacant spot on the bed where Derek should have been.

A jolt of worry surged through Stiles as his mind raced through the possibilities. If Derek hadnt come home last night, then were had he stayed? The answer lingered in the air, hanging like an ominous cloud - the likelihood that Derek had spent the night at Miss. Blakes place. Stiles thoughts spiraled, questions and uncertainties flooding his mind, each unanswered inquiry added to the mounting sense of dread and fear.

Before Stiles could descend into a full-blown panic, a knock interrupted the brewing storm of his thoughts. Weariness etched on his face, Stiles called out for the visitor to enter.

Jackson cautiously poked his head through the partially opened door, noticing the sighs of distress and anxiety etched on Stiles features.

"Hey, can you give me a ride today?" Jackson's voice broke the silence, his concern evident as he took in the state of Stiles demeanor. But Jacksons curiosity quickly turned to a more pressing question, one that mirrored Stiles own worry. "Where's Derek?"

Stiles couldn't suppress the pang of unease that reverberated within him. He shrugged in response to Jacksons query, a sense of helplessness creeping into his voice. "I don't... I don't think he came home last night."

The words hung heavy in the air, painting a picture of uncertainty that loomed over Stiles, intensifying the knot of anxiety coiling within his chest.

In the middle of Stiles heartache and distress, Jacksons concern deepened. He had come a long way from the days when animosity and misunderstanding clouded their relationship. The rift between them had been sown in the past, stemming from Jacksons misplaced anger and insecurity. Back then, when they were in third grade, he couldnt fathom that Stiles could have multiple best friends. The emergence of Scott in Stiles' life had felt like a threat to Jackson, prompting him to lash out and push Stiles away.

However, years has passed, and they had long buried the hatchet. Jackson had realized the foolishness of his actions and the depth of his misunderstanding. He and Stiles had talked it out, reconciled, and rebuilt their friendship from the ground up. Now, they stood as close friends once more, their bond stronger for having weathered the storm of their past misunderstandings.

The subtle shift of the atmosphere didnt escape Jacksons keen sense. The kanima / wolf within him, sensing the salty tang of tears that Stiles struggled to hold back, pushed Jackson into immediate action. His concern for his friend overrode any other considerations.

"You know what? Scratch that," Jackson declared, determination coloring his voice as he assessed Stiles heartbeat. "I've got to take care of something."

Without further hesitation, Jackson turned away, his resolve unwavering as he left Stiles and Dereks room. The urgency in his steps spoke volumes of his decision to do whatever it took to support his friend. In that moment, Jacksons loyalty to Stiles eclipsed any other obligation, and he set off to give Derek a piece of his mind.

Stiles brain jolted into action as Jacksons words sank in, pulling him out of the fog of despair that had clouded his thoughts moments ago. Stiles threw himself out of bed, his limbs tangled in the sheets in his haste.