I don't own Teen Wolf.

No One Does It Better: Chapter 1

Jackson's lungs burned as he raced to keep up with Derek. He had always been in good shape, even before the bite, but the Alpha had years of experience on him and knew the land like the back of his hand. The teen lengthened his stride, pumping his arms to gain some momentum. He inwardly sighed in relief when he saw the Hale property come into view. Derek slowed to stop, not even slightly out of breath. Jackson groaned as he bent at the waist, his hands digging into his thighs.

"You okay?" Derek asked quietly, an eyebrow raised in question. Jackson shook his head, keeping his face ducked away from the older man. He thought he had caught his breath enough to stand up; instead he ended up vomiting at his feet. "Jackson?" Derek asked, the worry in his voice clear.

"Fuck," Jackson mumbled, wrapping his long arms around his stomach as he continued to throw up. He tensed as Derek's hand landed on his shoulder; every muscle in his body hurt.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked, helping Jackson lower to the ground without landing in his own puke. He had never seen a werewolf get this sick before; their bodies always repaired themselves before it got this bad.

"I don't know," Jackson whispered. His head throbbed, distracting him from the clenching in his stomach. "This is the third time this week." Derek bit his lip, searching over the teen in front of him.

Derek and Jackson had started a relationship shortly after Jackson had received the bite. Derek had spent every night for the first two weeks in Jackson's room, stopping him from destroying it out of fear from his nightmares. They went on runs every day, Derek teaching the new wolf how to track and be stealthy. And while their relationship was a secret, they would spend night after night curled together in Jackson's bed, Derek staying awake until he was sure the younger boy's breathing had evened out.

"I thought werewolf's didn't get sick?" Jackson whispered as he sat up slowly, his vision swimming slightly. "I thought our bodies just automatically healed themselves." Derek offered Jackson a hand, slowly pulling him to his feet and keeping a hand on his arm when the blonde started to sway.

"Well, normally they do. I don't know what's going on with you," Derek said, his mind flying to every possibility without trying to alarm Jackson.

"Awesome, even as a werewolf I screw everything up," Jackson whispered under his breath, wincing when he forgot Derek would be able to hear him. "Mom's already made an appointment for me to see Dr. Reames tomorrow. I'll keep you posted. Care if I take the day off tomorrow? I mean I know I need the training and stuff, I'm just so tired…"

"No, it's fine. Take a couple days, J. Just let me know what the doctor says." Derek wrapped a hand around the back of Jackson's neck, pulling the slightly shorter close to his body. He placed a light kiss to Jackson's lips, a small smile on his face. "I'm sure you'll be okay. It'll take a lot to kill a wolf."

"For once you're not a pessimist," Jackson said with a grin, pulling away from Derek and walking back to his car. He hated worrying Derek, and if that meant keeping it to himself that he had to pull over a mile outside the woods and wait for his head to stop swimming, then he would.

"Jackson Whittemore?" A nurse dressed in teal scrubs called into the waiting room and Jackson stood with a sigh as he slipped his phone into his pocket. He fallowed the nurse down the hallway to an examination room. He answered her questions as politely as he could, his mother's mannerisms engraved in his mind. She gave him a small smile when she was done, slipping his chart into a shelf right outside the door. "Dr. Reames will be in shortly, Jackson."

"Thanks," he mumbled. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket and sent a quick text to Derek, promising to call him when he was done. He flipped through a pamphlet on teenage pregnancy with a bored look on his face.

"Don't have to worry about that anymore," he mumbled to himself. "Point one for the gay card." His mind drifted to his birth parents. They had been sixteen when they put Jackson up for adoption. He had been named Patrick Mays then. The Whittemore's adopted him when he was five-old enough to remember the group homes and foster parents. He had never met his birth parents.

"Mr. Whittemore," Dr. Reames greeted, entering the room without any warning. "Seems you've been here an awful lot lately."

"Yeah, I guess," Jackson said, his poster straight. His head was starting to pound again.

"So what seems to be the problem this time?" the older man asked, sitting down in a rolling chair in front of Jackson.

"I've just been feeling really sick lately; pounding headache pretty much every day, I feel nauseas all the time for the past couple weeks. This week whatever I've gotten down I've just ended up throwing up later. Every muscle and joint in my body hurts. I've never had a nose bleed in my life until last week and now I've had three. Just…something doesn't feel right."

"Hmm," Dr. Reames said, his brow furrowed in concern. "Well, that doesn't sound good, Mr. Whittemore. Let's run some tests and then we'll go from there, okay? We're just going to need some blood samples and I'd liked to take a bone marrow sample, also. I'll have Vanessa come in and take those. She'll need to get to your pelvic bone to get the bone marrow sample, so if you feel more comfortable you can changed into a gown. We'll have the results by Monday. Then we'll go from there."

"Wait, what do you think it is?" Jackson asked, his eyebrows raising as the doctor started to leave the room.

"I'd rather not say until I'm sure, Mr. Whittemore. Have a good day." Jackson sighed as the doctor left the room. Shortly after a short women with curly blonde hair entered the room.

"I'm Vanessa, I'll be taking some blood and bone marrow samples from you. Do you have an arm preference?" Jackson shook his head, holding out his left arm since that was the closest to the girl. He didn't even flinch as the needle entered the crook of his arm. "Good," she said, taping a piece of cotton to his arm as she pulled the needle out. "Now, I need to get to your pelvic bone, just at your hip…"

Jackson stood, glad he had his lacrosse warm-up pants that he could easily slip off. He took the sheet Vanessa handed him and covered himself as best as he could and then bared his hip. "This is just going to numb the area a bit, dear. This is known to be a bit painful." It didn't take long for the numbing agent to kick in and then Vanessa was inserting a larger needle into his hip. He tried to keep the gasp quiet as she slowly pulled back on the plunger, drawing a small amount of bone marrow out. Jackson let his head fall back as he shut his eyes against the pressure.

"Good, Jackson," Vanessa whispered as she placed a band aid over the spot. "You might feel a bit sore tomorrow. I'll have a sports excuse slip for you for today and tomorrow. It'll be better to sit out if you can. We'll have the results on Monday."

"Thanks," Jackson whispered, sitting up and pulling his pants back on. With a sigh he slid off the table, following the woman down the hall with a slight limp.

"Never mind, he's here," Derek said into his phone, an eyebrow cocked at Jackson as he entered the older boy's apartment. "And just because I've given him the day off doesn't mean you can slack. Take Stilinski to the woods with you and practice tracking him….Do it McCall." Derek ended the call, crossing the room in three short steps.

"Well? What's wrong with you?" He asked, sniffing at Jackson in question. He could smell the disinfectant coming off the younger boy. Jackson shrugged, pushing past Derek and going for the fridge.

"I know you said no beer unless it's a special occasion," Jackson mumbled, reaching for a Yuengling. "But it's been a bad week and I need this right now." Derek didn't say anything, instead nodding his head and waiting for Jackson to talk.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?" Derek asked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"I don't know," Jackson said back, taking another swig of his beer. "They just ran a bunch of tests and said they'd have the results back Monday. I have another appointment after school." He took another swig of beer and pushed off the counter and limped over to the couch.

"Why are you limping?" Derek asked, his voice getting louder. Jackson groaned, rubbing at his aching head.

"They took a bone marrow sample," he said quietly, flipping down the waistband of his pants to show the area that was already bruising. He frowned at it slightly, looking up at Derek in question. "Shouldn't the extra super werewolf powers have healed that already?"

"Yeah, it should have…" Derek trailed off. There was something off about Jackson; Derek could smell it amongst the teens cologne and the doctor's office disinfectant. "I… I'll make some calls. There was a pack of older wolf's my mother always ran with; they might know something."

"I'm sure it's nothing. Probably just mono or something. I've always had a shitty immune system since I left the foster homes…"

"Let's not worry about it now, okay?" Derek said, sliding onto the couch behind Jackson. "When do you have to be home?"

"Soon…Mom gets off at five," Jackson mumbled, his eyes sliding shut. Derek gave him a reassuring smile as Jackson fell asleep curled into his Alpha's side.

The weekend went by fast, Jackson finally feeling okay to run with Derek again late Sunday afternoon. They didn't go as far as normal, Jackson still lagging behind some. The boys fell into a heap on Derek's couch, Jackson panting like he'd been running for days.

"What time is your appointment tomorrow?" He asked, wrapping a sweaty arm around Jackson's waist.

"Two," Jackson answered in a whisper. "I get to miss 9th period. I've convinced mom she doesn't have to come. I'll call you after, though. I'm sure it's just mono. This is only like the third time I've had it."

"If you say so," Derek growled back, running a hand over Jackson's still bruised hip.

"I've you heard back from your mom's friends yet?" he asked, stretching his sore shoulders.

"I've talked to her, but she hasn't answered yet. She's looking into it though." Jackson just nodded, his shaky hands grasping Derek's arm. "It's going to be okay," the Alpha whispered, kissing Jackson's forehead. Jackson just nodded again.

Derek had waited around all day Monday, pacing his apartment and checking his email repeatedly. Ruth, his mother's friend, should have been getting back to him at any time and Derek was getting anxious. He became even more anxious when two o'clock rolled around and he knew that Jackson would be in his appointment. He kept his phone in his hand, waiting desperately for the call. Finally around three it came.

"J? How'd it go?" Derek asked, sinking down on the couch slowly.

"Can I come over?" Jackson asked, his voice shaking.

"Of course, you know you don't have to ask….I'm assuming it's not mono?"

"I'll be there in like ten minutes," Jackson said, hanging up the phone without answering Derek's questions.

Jackson looked horrible when he walked into Derek's small apartment. Dark bags were under his eyes and his skin was almost see through. Derek thought back to when he had sunk his claws into Jackson's neck and how he had reacted somewhat like this. He carried a stack of papers in his hands, his grasp making them shake. He lowered himself onto Derek's couch, letting the papers fall in his lap as he lowered his head into his hands.

"J?" Derek asked, sliding next to Jackson on the couch. "What's wrong?"

"I never thought this would happen…" Jackson said, his voice cracking as he trailed off. " I mean, my life already sucks enough. I was born to a couple stupid teenagers who didn't want me, and my adoptive parents just shove fancy things in my face like that's how you really love someone. And I've never been enough for anyone until now; not even Lydia. But after the bite I thought things were supposed to get better. Stuff like this wasn't supposed to happen after the bite…" Derek bit his lip as Jackson trailed off, rocking back and forth hugging his stomach with one arm.

"Jackson, what are you talking about?" Derek asked, trying to reach out and take the pile of papers in his lap. Jackson lashed out, partially transforming and sinking his claws into Derek's wrist. Derek hissed, pulling his arm back and staring at Jackson in shock. The Hale boy did what he could to keep himself calm and letting the Alpha retaliate towards his mate. "Jackson," Derek said again, his voice stern.

"It's cancer," Jackson blurted out, looking up at Derek with wide eyes.

"What?" Derek asked, his breath catching in his chest.

"ALL; Acute lymphoblastic leukemia. They said I'm kind of old for it and it normally hits younger kids more but it's possible in teens and adults." Jackson stared at his hands some more, trying to keep them from shaking so much.

"How bad?" Derek asked, his breath hitching had he held Jackson closer.

"Stage 2…" Jackson trailed off again, taking deep breaths. "So I guess it be worse." The two wolves sat in each other's embrace, neither one of them saying anything. Finally Jackson broke the silence. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what? " Derek asked, running his thumb over the back of Jackson's hand.

"Why doesn't my body just heal itself? What good is being a werewolf when you can't even ave yourself from a disease like this. I mean, it healed Scott when he had the flu last week. And you've never had a cold in your life! Why…Why can't my body do it? I'm a werewolf too!"

Derek sighed, holding Jackson tighter in his arms. He placed a kiss on Jackson's forehead and sighed. "I don't know J. I really don't know." Jackson broke down then, fat tear drops falling out of his eyes as he gasped for breath.

"I'm going to die," he moaned, his mind on the verge of a panic attack. "I don't want to die, God, I don't want to die!" Derek held him close, whispering "shh" and "it's okay" into the teens ear as he rocked him back and forth. Jackson fell asleep in his arms, hiccupping every so often as his body still shook. Derek carried him home before his parents got off work, not wanting to have to face the Whittemore's when they found out their perfect son was so horribly sick.

"Ruth," Derek panted into the older wolf's voicemail as he cut through the woods home. "You've got to call me back Ruth. This is serious. It's cancer, Ruth, and his wolf isn't healing it. I need to know what to do now. Please."

Derek collapsed onto the couch with his head in his hands. What use was being a werewolf if you couldn't save the ones you love?

AN: I hope you liked it. There was all kinds of .gifs of Jackson looking sickly floating around tumblr and this just popped into my head. Please review!