The sterile hospital room was eerily quiet. Peter sat motionless in his wheelchair, his scarred face blank, eyes fixed on the wall as if lost in some unfathomable void.
Jacob and Stiles exchanged mischievous glances.
Jacob walked behind Peter's chair, studying the half-burned side of his face with exaggerated fascination.
"Wow." He murmured, tilting his head. "The hunters really did a number on you, huh?"
He winked at Stiles, then leaned down. "You know what might help you heal, Peter? A smile, perhaps."
Before Derek could react and stop him, Jacob jammed his fingers into the corners of Peter's mouth, forcing a grotesque grin. Then dropping his voice into a low, mocking imitation of the Joker. "Why so serious?"
Stiles completely lost it, doubling over with laughter.
Peter's jaw twitched, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly on the armrests. His rage was a living thing, simmering just beneath the surface—but he didn't move.
Derek grabbed Jacob's shoulder, yanking him back. "Stop."
Jacob raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay!"
But the glint in his eyes told a different story.
He picked up Peter's limp hand, turning it over thoughtfully.
"You know." Jacob mused. "I've heard that sometimes the best way to kickstart a werewolf's healing… is to hurt them."
He glanced at Stiles and Scott. "Maybe if we break something, he'll wake up."
Derek's eyes glowed blue. "Jacob, don't..."
SNAP.
Peter's finger bent at an unnatural angle.
A sharp inhale. A tremor of fury. But still—nothing, Peter didn't move.
Jacob smirked. 'Oh, this bastard is a good actor.' He could feel it though—the barely restrained wrath rolling off Peter in waves.
Derek shoved Jacob away from Peter and growled. "What's wrong with you?"
Jacob shrugged. "I'm just trying to help."
Then his eyes lit up. 'Time to spray him, I guess. Let's see how well he acts through that.'
He winked at Stiles. In perfect sync, they stepped in front of Peter, whipped out two cans of bear spray, and blasted him right in the face.
Peter's face contorted instantly. His eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down as the burning chemicals seared into his skin. His nostrils flared, his lips pulled back in a silent snarl—but still, he didn't move.
Jacob cackled. "Stiles, I think it's working! We're about to cure him. Let's give him one more..."
"ENOUGH!"
The deep, guttural growl was followed by an explosion of movement.
Peter erupted from the chair in a blur of rage—claws out, fangs bared, eyes blazing red. He swiped at Stiles, but Jacob's foot slammed into his ribs, sending him crashing into the wall.
The Alpha snarled, writhing in pain, his face still dripping from the spray. "YOU LITTLE SHITS! I'm gonna kill you!" Peter roared, wiping his face with the bed sheets.
Stiles gave Jacob a high-five. "Mission accomplished."
Jacob smirked. "Yeah… but the bastard looks really pissed."
Stiles ducked behind him. "Exactly. Now you have to protect me—I don't think I can take a single hit from him."
Jacob looked over his shoulder. "I get why Stiles is hiding behind me, but why are you hiding too, Scott? You're supposed to protect Stiles."
Scott muttered. "I don't think I can protect myself, let alone Stiles."
Derek stared at Peter in shock, his voice a low growl. "Why did you kill her, Peter? Why did you kill Laura?"
Before Jacob or Stiles could react, Derek lunged.
But Peter—now fully recovered from the bear spray—slipped out of the way with ease. He caught Derek's wrists in a crushing grip. "Do you really think I killed Laura on purpose?"
Without warning, Peter smashed his forehead into Derek's face, then kicked him across the room. Then he walked straight into the bathroom, ignoring Jacob and the others completely.
They could hear the water running as Peter washed the last traces of bear spray from his face.
When he came back out, he stood over Derek and said. "My mind, my personality—they were literally burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct."
Peter's eyes shifted briefly to Jacob, but Derek surged forward and punched him in the face.
"Do you want forgiveness?" Derek snarled.
The punch barely made Peter flinch. Slowly, he turned back to Derek, gripping him by the throat. "I want understanding."
He slammed his forehead into Derek's face again, then shoved him to the ground.
"Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing, cell by cell… even more slowly coming back to consciousness? Yes—becoming an Alpha, taking that from Laura—pushed me past a plateau in my healing. I couldn't help it."
Jacob stepped forward. "Cut the bullshit. You wanted her power, and you took it."
Peter's tone was deceptively calm. "Like I said—I wasn't myself."
Jacob smirked. "So you expect me to believe a mindless Beta overpowered an Alpha? That's bullshit. Here's what I think happened—you planned it. You drew her here, played the concerned uncle, let her drop her guard, and then killed her before she could react."
Peter growled. "That's not what happened, you little shit!"
"Maybe not exactly like that." Jacob admitted. "But I know a Beta can't take on an Alpha—just like Derek here can't beat you. You're way stronger than him. It's like a grown man fighting a child."
Jacob's smirk deepened. "My guess? You even used wolfsbane to weaken her."
That struck a nerve. With a roar, Peter lunged—but Jacob sidestepped, his fist slamming into Peter's face.
CRACK!
Peter's nose broke audibly as he was launched across the room, smashing into the wall.
He got back up almost instantly, blood dripping from his nose—but it was already healing. His wide eyes locked on Jacob, shocked.
Jacob grinned. "That's right. I'm stronger than I was the night we fought in the woods."
Derek stared at Jacob too, clearly surprised. He'd always known Jacob was strong, but to match an Alpha? That was another level entirely.
Peter wiped the last of the blood from his face, the burns on his skin disappearing as well.
Stiles said. "You could heal yourself like this the whole time? Why didn't you do it sooner?"
Peter smirked. "I was waiting for the right moment."
He turned toward a mirror, admiring his reflection. "But when you look this good… why wait?"
While Peter was lost in vanity, Jacob casually strolled up behind him and kicked him hard in the balls.
Peter dropped to the ground with a strangled howl.
Jacob kicked him away and muttered. "Damn… this guy's more narcissistic than me."
Jacob glanced at the mirror and smirked. "Still… I'm more handsome than him. You guys agree, right?"
Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but Scott quickly clamped a hand over it. "Yes. Absolutely. You're more handsome than Peter, Jacob."
Stiles pulled Scott's hand away. "What are you..."
"I don't know what you were about to say." Scott cut in. "But I'm pretty sure it was sarcastic. Jacob's a narcissist who thinks he's the most handsome man alive. So if you don't want to end up like Peter over there, keep your mouth shut."
Stiles looked from Jacob—who was still admiring himself in the mirror—to Peter, who was still curled on the ground in pain. A shiver ran down his spine. "Thanks." He muttered to Scott. "I still want to have kids someday."
Peter's low growl rumbled through the room. His body began to shift—bones stretching, muscles swelling, clothes tearing as fur sprouted. His eyes burned a violent red as he rose into a towering beast, gaze locked on Jacob with pure hatred.
Just then, a screen flashed before Jacob's eyes:
[Available Sign-In:
-Quest Sign-In: Host can sign in after fighting Peter and winning the fight.
Note: No sign-in opportunity if you lose or draw.]
Jacob's grin widened. 'Interesting.'
"I've been looking forward to a rematch." He said to Peter. "But we can't fight here. Follow me."
Without another word, Jacob bolted out of the room. Peter roared and charged after him, the sound of his heavy steps shaking the floor.
Derek, Stiles, and Scott stood frozen.
"Should we follow them?" Stiles asked.
Scott shook his head. "Did you see how fast they were? Even if we wanted to, we couldn't catch up."
Derek said. "Let's get out of here. Maybe we can track them down."
---
Meanwhile, in the woods
As Jacob sprinted, he sent a thought to the system. 'System, I completed the quest of exposing Peter. Sign in.'
[Quest Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
-Dragonborn Shout (Fus Ro Dah) (Skyrim): Shout enemies away with a roar; no need to say the words.
-Banana Peel (Mario Kart): Place it on the ground—guaranteed to make someone slip. Three peels per day. Resets at midnight.
-Rolls-Royce Ghost 2011]
Jacob grinned while running. 'Nice. The Dragonborn Shout will be useful—and at least I don't have to yell those cringe words. The banana peel is hilarious. And a Rolls-Royce Ghost? I think it's worth a quarter million dollars. I'd love to see it now… but unfortunately, I've got an angry Alpha on my tail.'
He glanced around. 'This is far enough. No one will interrupt us here… Perfect time to test the banana peel.'
From his pocket dimension, he pulled out a single yellow peel and casually dropped it on the trail ahead. Stopping a short distance away, he turned toward Peter with a wicked grin.
The enraged Alpha rushed forward without slowing—his massive foot landing squarely on the peel.
The effect was instant. Peter's legs flew out from under him and he spun through the air, tumbling forward like a cartoon character before smashing headfirst into a tree.
Jacob doubled over laughing. "Oh, that's even better than I imagined."
Peter staggered up, shaking his head. For a moment, some of the rage cleared from his eyes, replaced by confusion.
"What… happened? What did you do to me?"
Jacob shrugged innocently. "Me? Nothing. You just slipped on something, dumbass." His eyes shifted to a molten gold glow. "Now, enough talking. Let's fight."
Both of them roared—and launched at each other.
To be continued… 😊😊😊