Teen Beasts 🐾 S.S.

The Kanima and Former Alpha

The night that Jackson Whittemore got bitten by then new Alpha Derek Hale, he thought that his life would get itself back on track. Instead he had found that his life had flown off the rails started to drift off into the sea. A sea that's current took him from Beacon Hills, California to London, England. After he had apparently been misdiagnosed as dead after that fateful night on the lacrosse field, his parents decided that it was best to just get away from a town that had too much bad memories for them. So, his mother suggested they go back to where she had gone to school, London.

Once he settled in London, Jackson found that he had no desire or strive to regain the shining high school star life he had left back in Beacon Hills pre-bite. His parents had tried to talk him into trying out for the lacrosse or swim team, like before in order to try and get some new friends, but Jackson wasn't interested. He knew he wasn't well versed in controlling himself and was resolved to just keep his head down and not call attention to himself. At least one thing he felt that made him smarter than Scott had been when he first turned.

While Derek Hale had taught him what he needed to do in order to try and maintain control of himself before he left, Jackson found it was much harder than he thought. To let out some anxiety or built up tension, sometimes he would take to running in the local grand parks around London late at night. Not exactly the woods surrounding Beacon Hills but it was as good as he could hope for under the circumstances, which frustrated him. Scott had been a drama queen and Stiles had been a headcase, yet the two of them seemed to go about their lupine lives so casually, so fast after they turned. It only got worse when he found that sometimes, he found himself growing a tail when he shifted. A serpent's tail. A leftover from being the Kanima.

About a month after he had moved to London, he was approached by two guys belonging to the pack that had lived around there. They had detected him and had been watching him since he had arrived and wanted to see if he was fit to join their ranks. Their pack was a decent size, about 11, including an Alpha that was in his late 30's named Garland. Jackson was an Omega and he knew that the only way he would gain more power, and control, was if he belonged to a pack. Yet, when the pack saw that Jackson had a tail, and dug into his past back at Beacon Hills, Garland refused to take him in and make him a part of his pack. Though, the alpha said that he could stick around as long as he didn't make trouble for them, Jackson simply responded by giving him and his betas all the finger before leaving. As much as he hated to admit, being rejected like that had hurt him. What made it worse was that Jackson couldn't find it in himself to blame them.

Jackson deserved this solo and lonely existence. He remembered what Stiles had ranted about him when he was trying to get the bite, about how he wasn't worthy of becoming a werewolf. And Derek ranting at him that he was nothing special; just a selfish, spoiled, rich kid. The spaz and the recluse had both been right. It was from this that Jackson found his anchor, hate. Of himself. Because he was a pitiful and worthless freak, even among other freaks. Self-loathing had become his anchor. One that actually seemed to give him a decent amount of control over himself.

And he went and let himself zip through his senior year of high school without much care or thought. In the days leading up to his graduation, he had no idea what he would do with his life. But then, he went and ran into Ethan.

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When Aiden had been killed, Ethan found himself feeling broken. Far more than he had felt when Jennifer Blake had stripped him and his brother of their status as Alphas. The night that his brother was buried, Ethan tried to drink his sorrow away, but his healing didn't let the buzz last for more than a few seconds, even after he downed two full bottles of vodka. It got to the breaking point when he went and saw his brother's bike, that he would never be able to ride again. He then went and started to just let loose on it. Kicking, clawing and throwing it about to just let it feel more miserable than he did. He then took the mangled thing and left it in the local junkyard and got on his bike and rode out of Beacon Hills.