fandomtownies | Devil's Nest, Monday, Jan. 28

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Devil's Nest, Monday, Jan. 28

Leave it to Portalocity to decide a five-hour layover in 18th-century Hawaii would really enliven Jack's attempt to rush from Beacon Hills back to Fandom. It wasn't as if he was trying to get help for a dying packmate or anything, after all.

Since he had to open the club anyhow, he went there went directly from the portal and left a message for Stiles before tapping into the multiverse Internet to see if he could find anything about different types of wolfsbane. So far, all he had was a disturbing amount of Wendy the Werewolf Stalker fanfic in which Wendy cured Seraphim with -- things he was not about to do to Derek.

The Devil's Nest was (nominally) open, though Tiny was a better bet for service than Jack.

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He would be the distracted-looking one in a back booth.

Be glad Tiny is there, because Jack isn't mixing drinks today unless forced to.

For shakeage of groove things.

Edited 2013-01-28 14:49 (UTC)

Where Eric, should he come in, will no doubt be terribly sad to hear Derek is ill.

My kid has the day off from school for FREEZING RAIN. That isn't even that frozen. Virginia school boards are wusses.

Edited 2013-01-28 14:50 (UTC)

Even though Stiles kind of had an idea what this was all about he still entered the bar looking like someone who had ran all the way there from the dorms. Because he had. And people said he wasn't athletic pfft.

Stiles was a bunch of flailing limbs and anxiety as he approached Jack which...probably wasn't too out of the ordinary. "What's wrong, what's happening?"

Jack sighed. His anxiety and flailing was on the inside, but he was glad to see Stiles was taking this seriously. "Argents," he said, sounding like he thought that was answer enough in itself, before elaborating. "Derek got shot with a wolfsbane bullet, and he already looked awful when I left. He made me come back here to talk to you."

There was a brief eyeroll to imply Jack had not been the biggest fan of this plan, but arguing with Derek tended to be a pointless endeavor.

"So -- did that happen in your world? And how did you fix it?"

"Oh, okay, okay, I remember this," Stiles said, looking visibly relieved. He still had a worry that something might happen differently where he didn't know the outcome. "It's okay, he's gonna be okay. He'll find me and Scott and I'll babysit while Scott goes to the Argents to get the kind of bullet Kate used."

"Oh good," Jack said, genuinely relaxing. "That is, not good, but I was afraid I'd somehow changed things. So Scott gets the bullet, and that tells you what the cure is?"

"I think would? I mean, if we actually took the time to research it," Stiles said. "Derek just took the bullet apart and lit the wolfsbane inside on fire before we had a chance to really analyze it."

"Not that I blame him for rushing. By the time Scott came I was literally about two seconds away from chopping Derek's arm off with a saw."

Jack blanched. "But it worked and he's not wandering around Beacon Hills with a hook for a hand?" he checked. "Not that the pirate look wouldn't suit him, but..."

"All of his limbs stay where they're supposed to be," Stiles assured him. "He's gonna be fine, Jack, believe me. I mean, it's not gonna be good times for the next few hours, and it's not gonna be the last time I babysit him while we wait for Scott to save us, but it ends up okay."

Jack nodded. "Thank you," he said, quiet and sincere. "Maybe it's better he keeps throwing me out of town. There's less chance I'll make things worse, this way."

"You know he only threw you out of town to keep you safe, right?" Stiles said. "He didn't need you to run interference between us; we're talking again."

Sort of.

"I don't like being protected," Jack said, a note of childlike sulkiness in his voice. "He told me he might die if I didn't find you. Do you know how hard it is to say no to that?"

If pushed, he wouldn't disagree that Derek had a point; there was just nothing that required he appreciate it.

"I get it. In his defense it would make things easier on him if I did know something that could help." It would have saved both Derek and the other version of himself an afternoon of misery. "You were lucky you didn't get shot too."

"I know," Jack said, acceptance flickering across his features. "There's no guarantee the cure Scott finds there would even work on me. We found that out with the barrier last month."

Stiles nodded. "So sending you away was definitely the best choice. I don't think I would have been able to babysit the both of you anyway. One barfy werewolf threatening to cut my head off is quite enough, thank you."

"Fair enough. But I wouldn't have threatened to cut your head off."

Jack sounded annoyed as he said that, but the truth was he so would have.

"There still would have been the barf to deal with," he said. "I swear one day someone is gonna werewolf barf in my jeep and I will lose it and mow everyone down."

Jack made a face. "It's the day after the full moon here," he explained. "I'm just imaging what that vomit would have smelled like."

"You don't even want to know," Stiles said. "It's black, that should tell you enough."

Only if it meant he'd need to find someone to cover Derek's shift.

Eric was a giver that way.

He was there texting with Pam about how to best kick out drunken frat boys from the club. He hadn't ruled out "eating one to teach them a lesson."

"That's enough detail for today," Jack decided quickly. "So -- you and Derk are talking again? How'd that happen?"

"He texted me to call me an idiot and it went on from there." Which was fitting for them. "We haven't actually talked in person yet. Despite the fact he is my teacher."

"He makes you talk to the pony in class?" Jack's tone was sympathetic. He was also not especially surprised Derek had broken his silence to call someone an idiot.

"It's not just me he does that to in there. He doesn't talk to anybody outside of the weird lectures," Stiles said. "He's like the worst teacher on the planet. Which should surprise no one."

Especially considering what a horrible alpha he would be in the future.

"Not me," Jack said. "He's got his virtues, but dealing with large numbers of people isn't on that list. I was surprised Pinkie Pie talked him into it."

He may have underestimated how evil the pony was.

"Pinkie can annoy anybody into submission," Stiles said. "She's evil."

"Maybe that's my next class," Jack mused. "Can demons look like pink ponies and, if so, what should one do about it."

"I would totally ace a test on that," he said, smirking. "I happen to know she doesn't like being attacked by cupcake bats. Neither does Derek for that matter. You should have seen them nesting in his hair."

"...there are cupcake bats? Also, please tell me you got photos."

Well, Stiles had gotten Jack's mind off Derek's medical condition.

"Unfortunately I did not," he said sadly. "I did eat one of the bats though. Which apparently makes me disgusting in Derek's eyes. Uh you guys eat bunnies on the full moon, cupcake bats are nothing compared to that."

"But normal people eat rabbit," Jack argued. "Bats are disgusting and full of rabies."

Though possibly this did not apply if they were made of cupcake.

"It was chocolate with cream filling!" Stiles pointed out. "Who can resist that?"

Everyone in class except you, Stiles.

"I probably could if it was flying around and had wings," Jack decided, though he didn't sound entirely certain about it.

"Catching it was half the fun," Stiles insisted. "I was like a predator."

He followed that up with a little growl and a swipe of an imaginary clawed hand. It was either very adorable or very stupid.

Jack's burst of laughter suggested he found it a bit of both. "A very fierce junk food hunter," he said solemnly. "I'm sure it was impressive."

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Devil's Nest, Monday, Jan. 28

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