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My legs feel like jelly after presenting in english class, and I slowly make my way to my locker. I open it and dig through, looking for a sweatshirt, only to find an old sandwich. "Ugh...thats rank." Making the most effort I can to not touch mold, I carefully pick it up with two fingers, and start turning around. Before I can fully turn around, a hand slams against my locker, forcing it closed. I jump and drop the moldy sandwich on the ground, grimacing at it before looking up.
Jackson is starting in front of me, his arms against the locker on both sides - as if to block me from moving.
"The hell do you want, creep?"
"I know what you and McCall are, Maeve." he spits, making me try my best to create more distance between us. I'm only met with my head being stopped by the locker as Jackson continues to lean in.
"Wh-what?"
"I know what you are." He repeats, presenting a smug smile across his face.
I nervously laugh, "Okay, first of all? Back the fuck up. Secondly, I have no idea what you're talking about."
Jackson smiles wider, "Yeah. Yeah you do. And here's the thing --" he moves his right hand from the locker and pushes my hair out of my face as if to belittle me, "however it is you came to be what you are, you're gonna get it for me too."
I frown in confusion, "Get what for you?"
Jackson puts his hand back against the locker, refusing to let me move. "Whatever it is! A bite..." I gulp, "a scratch, sniffing magic fairy dust under the moonlight...I don't care. You're gonna get it for me, or, uh...I'm gonna ruin your best friends high school fling and tell Allison about it too."
I scoff, "Back the hell up, I don't know what you're talking about." I starting pushing him away, but his hands quickly find their way around my neck, slamming my head back against the locker. I try to take in a breath, but it's met with a shallow gasp, accompanied by a high pitched wheeze.
"You listen to me, bitch..." His voice is hushed as he looks around for a second, making sure the halls are empty. "You're gonna tell me how you became what you are. I know you know what I mean, and you're gonna get it for me."
My eyes are quickly filling up with tears from the pressure in my head, and I feel my face start to turn red. I try to respond, but weakly cough.
"Oh, you're fine. I'm sure your powers or whatever are making it so you can breath perfectly right now, isn't that right?" Jackson teases, tightening his grip around my throat.
I open my mouth in hopes of some air getting in, but at this point, there are no gasps or wheezes -- just silence as my face turns shades of purple. At first I figured he would let go after a few seconds, but now I'm sure he's gonna kill me, even if it's not his intent.
He looks pleased, smirking a bit and nodding, "Wow, i'm impressed. You're almost convincing me. I'll stop when you stop putting on this 'oh no i'm choking!' act and tell me you will get me what I want."
I can't answer, and reach my hands up to my neck, trying to pry his hands off. In retrospect this was a horrible decision, as this only causes him to squeeze tighter, now using his body weight to press into my neck. I start kicking around my feet, trying to free myself, to no avail. The lack of oxygen has taken away any strength I once had, and my vision of Jackson starts to blur.
The hallway starts fading in and out as I start trying to hurt Jackson in any way. I'm weakly scratching at his face with both of my hands, which is only met with a teasing smile from him.
"You're really good at this." He says, "I know you're full of shit though."
I can barely make out his words due to the growing ringing in my ears, all while my eyes feel like they're gonna pop out of my head. There are tears streaming down my face that I'm unable to stop, and my vision is almost completely gone.
Right before I feel myself fully lose consciousness, the hands around my neck quickly let go. Without being held upright, I drop to the ground, gasping for air. My vision is slowly coming back, and I ignore the person propping my legs up in recovery position while looking to the left of me where Jackson was standing. I faintly see a person pinning him to the ground with their hands around his collar, shaking him every which way while yelling something I can't make out.
After a few gasps and coughs, I can almost fully see and hear again, and I look at my feet to see Scott holding them up. He attempts to smile at me, all while grimacing at the commotion going on besides us. "Scott, if you're not the one whooping Jackson right now," I wheeze, "who is?"
Scott just points, and I look over to now see Stiles, planting punches on Jackson's face repeatedly.
"Alright, that's enough!" Scott says, "You wanna beat him up, not kill him!"
Stiles stops for a second and says, "No, actually, I do wanna kill him." before continuing the punches.
"Do you want an assault and battery charge?" Scott asks.
Stiles sighs and stands up. He straightens his shirt and stares down at Jackson, who is out like a light. "I didn't actually just kill him, did I?"
I cough, and try to sit myself up against the locker. Stiles notices my struggle and hooks his arms under mine, helping me upright. "You didn't kill him."
"His heart is still beating." Scott adds, shrugging.
Stiles sighs in relief, "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. But I don't know why this isn't healed yet." I can still feel the bruise on my neck, tender to the touch, and blotchy with shades of purple.
"It'll probably take longer than normal because you're still catching your breath." Scott says.
Stiles looks over to Jackson, who is slowly waking up, groaning and rolling around on the tile floor. "Why was he doing that to you?"
"He knows." I say, rubbing my hand against the bruise on my neck.
"He knows what?"
"What we are."
❥
A/N: just wanted to remind you guys how much of a shit Jackson is! Updates are gonna be a little slower from now on. I have been really overwhelmed with work and getting out a new part every day or even every other day is just unrealistic for my schedule. Anyways I edited this very lazily so if there are any typos or grammar errors i'm sorry! Also, I loved writing in Stiles beating the shit out of Jackson. We can tell he wanted to do that ever since that night in the school. Figured I'd write what Jeff couldn't.
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