Chapter Text
6 months, and 4 days after
They always say that nothing goes perfectly according to plan. However, as Jackson gets injected with a sedative and is tied down to the table in the rogue doctor's little hideout, he believes things just might be going exactly how they want it to.
Once the pair of doctors deem him tied down tight enough, they both make their way across the room, one to sit down and pull out a notebook scribbling things down onto it, while the other carefully arranges a serious of tubes, needles, syringes, and containers.
Roughly two months ago his pack heard about these two brothers who claimed to be the first supernatural doctors. It was another few weeks before they heard the more sinister rumours surrounding their medical practices. Namely their research and experiments on different types of supernatural’s.
When his pack started planning a way to infiltrate their practices and take them both down Jackson immediately offered himself up as the bait. As one of the few in his pack that could truly intrigue them due to his unique blend of kanima and werewolf attributes he knew it had to be him. His decision was even easier to make when he knew he would never truly be in any danger anyway; the Alpha-Mate wouldn’t allow such a thing. His whole pack would never leave him here either, and he trusted them with his life obviously but the Alpha-Mate was another matter entirely.
“Are we ready to start?” the shrill voice breaks him from his musings, he twists his head to look to his left to see one of the doctors approaching him, a small scalpel clutched in his closest hand. Once he was close enough, he cut into Jackson’s shoulder collecting the blood in the jar he carried in his other hand.
“Bitch, just because I heal doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt.” Jackson muttered under his breath as the man walked away again, low enough they could not hear him, but saying it made him feel better.
Neither of the men were listening to him, they spoke only amongst themselves one doing whatever with Jackson’s blood and the other furiously jotting notes down. They didn’t even appear to be talking to each other.
Telepathy, probably. Jackson heard his Alpha-Mate's voice echo through his head, startling him for a moment, he hadn’t realise he touched the charmed bracelet.
Don’t do that without warning, he thought back at them. You know it still freaks me out.
The only response was the vague sense of being laughed at. It did freak him out really, but it also settled him in a way, knowing that no matter what he wasn’t alone if he didn’t want to be. Although contorting his wrist to touch the bracelet whenever he needed to communicate would get annoying if he was here for too long.
A year ago, Jackson wouldn’t have ever been able to imagine being in this position, somewhere so vulnerable, leaving his fate in the hands of those around him. Though the Jackson from a year ago didn’t truly know what it meant to be a part of a pack, not praying for protection from where he found himself hanging around the outskirts hoping no one with true ill intent noticed him.
Jackson tunes back into his surroundings to keep watch the two men as they worked, he could see the talkative one put a lid back on the blood container before swapping it out for another syringe, attaching a ridiculously large needle to it. Turning on his heel he heads back towards Jackson, stabbing him with it before injecting more sedative, he can feel the fuzziness reach all his extremities making them almost too heavy to move.
He snarls in the man’s face when the doctor just laughs at him, spinning to walk back to the table. If he could currently move his neck, he would for sure headbutt him. Instead, he settles for glaring at the man’s back.
We aren’t far, hold on. The voice chirps back, almost as if they knew he was bemoaning his role of just laying here, which he is assured they cannot do, only targeted thoughts go through the connection supposedly.
The two of them go back to ignoring him. Jackson begins to survey the room, trying to find any entrances or weak points. He finds only two ways of getting in. One that looks like a hallway that leads nowhere and even his enhanced vision doesn’t help him determine more than that. The other way seems far more straight forward, an open door leading to what looks like a forest given the sheer number of trees he can see. Surely there must be something more to it, but from where his lays that is far as Jackson can see. He touches his bracelet again to pass this information on, there is no reply but he knows he has been heard.
There is nothing else remarkable about the room his is in, there is only the two entrances, the table he is on, the table they are using for all their instruments and the light swinging above his head, not even a window which is strange. This time Jackson is watching as the doctor turns around, coming towards him with a swab now, he watches as it scraps across the back of his hand then over his claws which he doesn’t remember unsheathing. Although they would be useful if the doctor would step just a little closer, one step and they’d surely reach that stupid whitecoat of his.
The man steps away quickly making his way back over to the table and sticking the swab into some sort of solution, it makes a fizzing sound then goes silent again. More notes are quickly jotted down.
We are outside, sit tight Jaks.
Finally, he sighs back. Logically it hasn’t been that long, but he really does not like being held down under someone else’s control. He feels bolder with his pack near, he can feel two of them approaching from the main door, sees two sets of beta gold eyes shining through the trees. He quickly looks away to avoid suspicion, locking his gaze back on the two doctors.
This time when the doctor comes closer to him Jackson bares his fangs and attempts to bite him missing him by mere inches. Which promptly earns Jackson a swift smack across the face, and even though it doesn’t hurt it does anger him more.
“You are going to regret that when I get out of here,” Jackson grits, trying to not flinch away from the syringe of whatever the doctor is trying to inject him with now. The doctor only chuckles in response, turning slightly to catch the eye of the other doctor, gesturing towards something out of Jackson’s eyeline.
He still isn’t sure exactly what these doctors plan to do, all he knows they want to try to recreate his creation. But Jackson cannot figure out what injecting him with seemingly random substances is going to do.
“Look you’re little packmates have come to save you,” the doctor closest to him says, but Jackson keeps his eyes firmly in place, refusing to get distracted by useless taunts.
“Shame they can’t get to you.” the other speaks up, his voice sounding eerily similar.
“Oh, they aren’t who you should be worried about,” Jackson flicks his eyes up to his fellow packmates, both in their beta shift as they stand perfectly still just outside the mountain ash line. “No offense guys but you can’t even cross a little line of dust.” Isaac and Boyd merely huff in response.
In the distant a low rumble of thunder can be heard.
Show off, Jackson sends down the link, the responding chuckles from his packmates makes him grin wider, a small chuckle escaping his mouth as he looks between his two packmates, who are also grinning, and the two doctors in the room with him.
“We are not afraid of a little storm, abomination,” the second doctor speaks up from his table across the room. Although his actions do not seem to line up, as he backs up into the corner behind him, trying to fade into the shadows there.
“The storm isn’t the thing you should be afraid of.” Jackson replies.
Behind you, turning, his eyes looking for any movement down the dark hallway, the doctors follow his lead and turn their heads in the same direction. For a long moment nothing can be seen but the shadows, until a figure steps out of nowhere. Lifting their head, eyes changing from their natural colour to a glowing lavender.
“I am.” his Alpha-Mate states slowly making their way into the room.