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“Why can’t we ever fight something in the daytime, in the summer?” Stiles grumbled, walking alongside Jackson as they track the latest threat. Apparently, it was a threat that could only survive in cold weather and it had found its way to Beacon Hills as they went through a colder winter than usual. It wasn’t really an aggressive threat, it didn’t seem to be intentionally doing any harm but it still had caused multi-car pile ups just by being there.
The worst part was, it was practically invisible. From what they could figure out, it was a creature that was half a foot tall at most and was constructed mostly of ice with the nice little side effect of creating ice everywhere it took a step. So, even though all it wanted to do was gallivant around the town having fun it left literal chaos in its wake with more car accidents and slip and fall injuries in the past month than they’d had in the entire year previous.
“Why did they pair me with you?” Jackson said with just as much disgust. He pulled his jacket a little tighter around him and looked around, “Where are we anyway?”
Stiles stopped and took a minute to look around before pulling his phone out and sighing a little bit, “I don’t have any service, I thought you knew where we were. You’re the werewolf.”
“Damn it.” Jackson groaned, “If we’re trapped out here…”
“If we’re trapped out here I will literally die.” Stiles says, “I’m already cold and it’s just getting colder, and it looks like it’s about to start snowing. I know your heat is keeping you pretty warm but I don’t have that gift.”
Jackson looks at him then, and then he’s frowning before saying, “We’re nowhere near Derek’s house and it’s going to be dark soon.”
“We need to find somewhere to get out of the cold.” Stiles says, “There’s somewhere in the preserve that the city built cabins like twenty years ago. They were intended to get people out and into nature but it was kind of a flop. If we get to one of those, maybe we’ll be able to find some blankets and at least get out of the snow.”
Jackson nods a little bit and they start moving again. After almost thirty minutes of nothing, Stiles’ legs give out from underneath him. He hits the ground with a grunt and is immediately working to stand back up. Jackson stops him though with a hand on his shoulder and he asks, “What happened?”
“My feet are basically frozen.” Stiles admits, “And I’m getting a little dizzy.”
“You’re shaking.” Jackson points out, “A lot. And you’re heart is beating a lot faster than usual.”
Stiles hunches over a little bit and tries to shove his hands back into the pocket of his coat. The gloves he was wearing were far too thin and he knew that his fingers were at risk for frostbite. His hands are shaking too much though and his thumb catches on the outside of the pocket. That has Jackson looking genuinely worried which is an emotion he only usually showed for Lydia when they were together. Even now that they were broken up Stiles was pretty sure she was the only one he really cared about.
“We need to keep moving. Find somewhere warm.” Jackson speaks up again. Stiles nods and grabs a hold of the hand Jackson offers down to him.
“Can’t you howl for them or something?” Stiles asks, chafing his hand s up and down his arms. His teeth are clacking together, “See if they can hear and come rescue us?”
Jackson shrugs and says, “I can give it a shot. But I think we better not rely on it.”
Stiles covers his ears then and nods to him. Jackson lets out one drawn out howl before shivering a little bit himself and grabbing a hold of Stiles arm. “Let’s go. If they howl back we’ll hear but I’m really doubting that anyone heard us. Also, you’re lips are starting to turn blue.”
“F – fuck.” Stiles stutters.
They make it another fifteen minutes before Stiles’ legs refuse to move and Jackson can’t pull him forward anymore. When Jackson looks back he notices how Stiles is looking dazedly around and every so often it looks like his legs give in before he can collect himself and straighten up.
“Stiles, come on.” Jackson insists, some concern managing to sneak its way into his voice, “You’re going to freeze if we don’t find some shelter.” Stiles just shakes his head a little bit and Jackson groans before going a step back towards him and pulling Stiles’ arm over his shoulders. Then he wraps his around his waist and they start moving forward. Jackson is supporting almost all of his weight and Stiles’ feet drag behind him.
Jackson almost collapses in relief when he sees a rundown old cabin in the distance, he shakes Stiles a little bit and says, “Hey, stay awake. Look, there’s a cabin up there. See it?”
Stiles grunts a little bit in response and then his legs stop moving altogether. Jackson tries to get him to move forward again but Stiles is hardly even making eye contact, let alone in a state to be able to move on his own. So, Jackson is throwing him over his shoulder in a fireman’s hold and just hoping that he doesn’t do any more damage than what’s already done as he moves as quickly as he can toward the cabin.
They get onto the little deck and Jackson sets Stiles down, leaning him against the wall as he tries the door. As he figured, it’s locked so he takes a step back before ramming his shoulder into the door and knocking it down. Within the few seconds that it took Stiles has already slumped down the wall and his eyes are dazedly half open. Jackson grabs a hold of him again and gets them both inside before he’s pushing the door shut and then pushing an end table against it to keep it from falling open on its own.
That’s when he finally gets the chance to look around the cabin they’re in. The door opened immediately into the living room where there’s a ratty old couch with an equally ratty armchair sitting kitty-corner to it. There’s a little coffee table between them and they all face toward what could’ve been a TV mount but is actually just a brick wall.
Jackson goes forward and sets Stiles gently down on the couch, patting him on the cheek and saying, “Stay awake, a little bit longer. Okay? I’m going to go see if there’s any blankets around here. Just stay awake. Alright?”
“Mm, ‘kay.” Stiles says with a little groan.
Jackson takes off to search the rest of the cabin and he breathes a sigh of relief when he finds the bedroom fully stocked with extra sheets and blankets. He yanks an armload out and starts to head back toward the living room, grabbing a couple of pillows as an afterthought as he passes by the bed.
When he finally makes it back to the living room, Stiles is looking even worse off. There’s very little light coming in from the windows and Jackson only manages to find and turn on one working lamp, lighting the room up in a soft glow. Then he’s shoving the coffee table out of the way and lying a couple of the blankets on the floor before throwing the rest in a heap on the arm chair.
He goes back to Stiles then and is immediately starting to pull of the soggy shoes he’s wearing. The three pairs of socks come off next and when Jackson presses his hand to Stiles’ foot he finds them frighteningly cold which motivates him to move a little bit faster. He looks at Stiles pants and how they’re plastered to his legs and contemplates just ripping them off but then he remembers that they may very well have to walk outside tomorrow and not having pants might be more of a problem than it would be worth it.
“Stand up, okay? Just for a minute and I’ll get your pants off.”
Stiles looks a little embarrassed but he gets a bit of help from Jackson who makes quick work of pulling the jeans off and then letting Stiles settle back onto the couch.
“Okay, I’m going to need you to stay sitting up so I can get your top off, okay?”
Stiles doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t fight as Jackson adjusts him into an upright position. Stiles’ eyes find Jackson and he stares as Jackson pulls off his coat, sweatshirt, gloves, and then gives his t-shirt the same treatment as his jeans, carefully bringing it over top of his head and tossing it off to the side.
“I’ve got to warm you up.” Jackson says then, more so for himself as he pulls off his own clothes. He shivers a little bit when the cold air hits him and he winces in sympathy because Stiles must be about five times worse off.
They’re both left in just their underwear then and Jackson pulls Stiles down next to him on the ground, pulling all of the blankets from the armchair overtop of them and tucking them tight around them. Stiles ends up with his back pressed up against Jackson’s front. It takes him a second to really realize what’s going on and he’s immediately pulling himself away and trying to shuck the blankets.
“Stiles… Stiles!” Jackson snarls, “You’re freezing, stay still. Okay? You have hypothermia.”
“Too hot.” Stiles complains, trying again to push the blankets off of him.
“No you’re not.” Jackson says, “I promise it’s just your brain tricking you.”
He wraps his an arm back around Stiles and pulls him close, then he’s wrapping his top leg around Stiles’ and using his free hand to scrub a blanket through Stiles’ wet hair to dry it out. Soon he feels freezing cold toes wrap pressing up against his leg and equally frozen fingers pushing themselves underneath Jackson’s arm around his torso.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck.” Stiles rambles, seemingly trying to get closer to Jackson at the same time as wanting to be independent.
“Try to sleep.” Jackson says, “They’ll realize we’re missing and then they’ll try and find us.”
Despite his best efforts, Stiles does fall asleep and goes limp in Jackson’s hold. Jackson finally gets to relax a little bit then too and he looks over Stiles as well as he can. His lips are still tinged with blue but color is finding its way back into his face and his toes and fingers are both warming up as well. His heartbeat sounds like it’s starting to steady out as well. The one bad thing is that he’s still not shivering. Even Jackson knew that was a bad sign.
Luckily for the both of them, Stiles woke up wracked with shivers less than ten minutes later and they were so violent it had him bucking away from Jackson unintentionally. In response he just tightened his arms a little bit and wedged the blanket underneath him so it kept Stiles right up next to him.
“I want to go home.” Stiles whimpers a little bit, hands reaching out to find something to hold onto, to steady them. Jackson lets him turn so they’re facing each other, both lying on their sides, and grabs a hold of Stiles’ hands and keeps a hold of them between their two chests.
“It’ll be okay.” Jackson reassures him, he yanks Stiles just a little closer and then says, “We’ve just got to wait a little while.”
Another little bit later Stiles finally seems to be warming up and his constant shivers slow down into just occasional tremors. He manages to fall asleep again which has Jackson readjusting the blankets again and then trying to fall asleep as well.
Stiles wakes up some undisclosed amount of time later and he rears back when he sees that Jackson’s face is just inches away from his own. Then he notices that one of Jackson’s arm is thrown over him, keeping him close, while the other is still between them with a loose grip on Stiles’ hands which are fisted together. His movement startles Jackson awake and as soon as he realizes what’s going on he’s pulling back as well and flushing red.
All the twisting and turning has the blankets falling off of them and Stiles scrambling to pull them back up over him as the cold air hits his bare torso. It takes a little bit but Jackson manages to swaddle the both of them up again and Stiles groans when he involuntarily leans in for the warmth that Jackson offers.
“Survival.” Stiles grunts in self-defense.
“Trust me, I know.” Jackson says, pointedly looking anywhere besides at Stiles.
“What time do you think it is?” Stiles asks, taking a look around the cabin for the first time since he’d been there. He generally remembered being put on the couch the night before and then Jackson having to peel him out of cold, wet clothes. It was still a little dark but there was a little bit of light coming in from the windows and the lamp was still doing its part to help him see.
“Early morning, I’d assume.” Jackson answers, looking toward the window as well. He starts to stand up and Stiles’ hand is going out and grabbing a hold of his arm in a second flat.
“Please don’t. I’m still cold.”
“I’m going to lay the clothes out flat so they get dry.” Jackson says, pushing Stiles hand off much gentler than he’d ever been before. Stiles vaguely remembers him being nice the night before but it was all a little fuzzy and he wasn’t actually sure if it’d happened. “I’m also going to go see if there’s running water, you should probably drink something.”
Stiles nods a little bit and let’s Jackson tuck the blankets around him before standing. He unashamedly watches as Jackson stretches out, his back cracking as he gets up. Stiles will admit, he’s a good looking person even if he is an asshole. He tracks him as Jackson goes around the room and lays the wet clothes across the back of the couch and chairs. Then he’s headed in a little opening that Stiles’ figures much lead into a kitchen. There’s some putzing around and rattling but Jackson comes back looking a little apologetic saying, “No water. I could get some snow from outside if you’re parched though.”
“You need it just as much as me.” Stiles reminds him, gritting his teeth when he shakes again, “I’m okay though.” Jackson nods and moves to come back down next to him which has Stiles asking, “Isn’t there a bed or something we could sleep on?”
“Yeah.”
“Why didn’t we sleep there last night?” Stiles asks with a smirk.
“Don’t know.” Jackson admits, “I didn’t really want to move you if I could help it.”
“Thank you.” Stiles says then, “For, you know, not letting me freeze.”
Jackson just grunts and then grabs for the blankets covering Stiles and then reaching down with his free hand to pull Stiles up. There’s a wave of dizziness that he waits to pass and then he’s going to take a step forward before it feels like pins have been jammed into every single toe and he’s stumbling forward.
“What was that?” Jackson asks, reaching out enough to keep him balanced.
“My fucking toes.” Stiles says, “They must’ve been worse off than I thought.”
Jackson looks down at them and says, “They don’t look too bad, probably just mild frostbite. We’ll keep them warm but let’s go to the bed. That floor is giving me a backache. And it’ll be warmer.”
Stiles nods and is grabbing at the blankets they were lying on and the pillows that they’d been using. Jackson takes off then and Stiles follows him back to a small bedroom down the hallway. They throw the blankets down and Stiles is falling into bed seconds later, bending himself enough that he can grab a hold of his feet and try to get some warmth in his toes.
Jackson crawls in the other side then and helps to adjust all the blankets so they’re in a relatively normal position and then he’s telling Stiles, “Put your feet against my legs, they’ll be warm enough.”
“I don’t know how I’m still so tired.” Stiles says as he does what Jackson says, “And how haven’t they been worried enough to find us?”
“Well how far are we from the Hale house?” Jackson asks.
“I’d guess like fifteen, twenty miles.” Stiles answers, “Not sure, we split off about seven or eight miles away from the house and I’d guess we traveled just as far, if not farther, on our own.”
“They won’t be able to track our scents either. I wouldn’t hold your breath.” Jackson responds, “Go back to sleep, it’ll let your energy focus on warming up.”
Jackson hears what resembles a howl almost an hour and a half later and it has him sitting up and cocking his head a bit to the side to listen. When it happens again, just a little louder, he jumps out of the bed and, with a blanket wrapped around him, opens the front door enough to respond. A final response to him has him assuming they’ll be there soon so he grabs the clothes scattered around the living room and carries them into the bedroom where Stiles is slowly waking up again.
“I think they’re close.” Jackson tells him, tossing the mostly dry clothes onto the bed, “How’re feeling?”
“Overall achy, but better.” Stiles tells him. He pulls on his clothes but stays under the covers and then he asks, “Are we going to have to walk back? Cause I don’t think I’ll be able to do that. And you aren’t looking too good yourself, by the way. You look tired.”
“I can’t get hypothermia.” Jackson reminds him, pulling his shirt over his head and then his jacket over that.
“But you can get tired.” Stiles says, “And weak from almost hypothermia. I doubt you’ll be able to walk all the way back either.”
“Then let’s hope they figured something out.” Jackson says, “Come on, let’s go to the front room. You can bring you’re blankets if you insist.”
“I do insist.” Stiles says, wrapping at least three of the blankets around him and then trudging out just to fall back down onto the couch. Jackson leans outside the door again and lets out another howl. The one he gets back in response sounds like they’re just moments away from reaching them which has the both of them letting out a breath of relief they didn’t know they’d been holding in.
They both get their shoes on then, Stiles cringing when his still leak out cold water and by the time they’re both set, the door is falling in with Scott, Isaac, and Derek. Scott is going over to Stiles as soon as he spots him and checking him over first with his eyes and then using his hands to push the blankets off his shoulders. Stiles glares at him for ruining the warmth but Scott looks so happy to see him that it doesn’t last long.
“Good you guys found this place.” Derek says, “It got colder than ever last night. You wouldn’t have made it if you would’ve been out there.”
“Thanks Derek.” Stiles says, annoyed, “That’s really sweet of you, and the concern is almost overwhelming.”
Derek's response is his usual half glare toward Stiles without any words to accompany it.
“How’re we supposed to get back to the house?” Jackson asks, “Because I am not going to walk all the way back.”
“There’s a dirt road that leads out here, it’s been pretty washed out but the jeep should make it.” Stiles is immediately protesting but Derek shoots him down with an impressively communicative glare, “Yes, someone else will be driving it. I can tell them to take it back if you want to walk back. Boyd is probably driving it back here. We’ll have to walk about a mile because from what I could tell the road is unmanageable the last little bit to here with all the snow.”
Stiles thought that the walk from the bedroom to the living room was exhausting, he didn’t think he was going to make it out the door, let alone a mile to the car. Jackson seems to share that sentiment because he’s cringing a little at that. “We’ll help you out.” Isaac promises.
“Let’s go.” Derek says then, “Leave the blankets Stiles.”
“Why?” Stiles protests, full on pouting. “It’s not like anyone here will be needing them.”
Derek seems to ponder that for a second before shrugging and turning back toward the door. Stiles smiles slightly and stands up, leaning into Scott who generously doesn’t say anything at the lack of coordination Stiles has. They make it less than twenty feet off the small front porch of the house before Stiles is too clumsy for his own good and Scott is rolling his eyes and saying, “I can give you a piggy back ride if you want.”
They both hear Derek grunt a bit and then he’s walking back toward them, pulling Stiles’ arm over his shoulders and gesturing for Scott to do the same. They manage to make it work with Stiles hardly doing any work himself, and the mile walk takes them about fifteen minutes. Stiles almost sobs in relief when he sees his car ahead of them. Then he’s taking a look at the group and wondering just how they’re supposed to fit.
Once they’re at the car though, the decision is taken out of his hands because Derek, Scott, and Jackson are climbing into the backseat and Isaac is grabbing Stiles and they’re finding a way to fit in the front. Boyd smiles a little at Jackson and Stiles and says, “Glad you two are okay.”
“Except for my toes.” Stiles groans.
That has Scott craning his neck from the middle back seat and looking at him where Stiles is sitting half on Isaac’s lap and half on the center console. Then Isaac is starting to pull off his shoes and socks, despite Stiles’ protests. Once he gets it all off, he puts a hand on either of Stiles’ feet and pulls the pain out of them while simultaneously keeping them warm.
“Isaac, have I told you how much I loved you recently?”
Isaac just rolls his eyes but he keeps his hands where they are and gives his feet a little squeeze in response. Jackson pipes up from where he’s dozing off on the side behind the passenger seat and he says, “What about thanks to the person who kept you from losing all your extremities last night Stilinski?”
Stiles snorts and flips him off, “I already told you thank you. Don’t lie, I’m great at cuddling, you loved it. You were cold too.” Jackson doesn’t respond which Stiles takes as a win.
“Did you guys ever find anything?” Boyd asks.
“No.” Stiles tells him, “Did anyone?”
“Erica and I found a trail,” he says, “But we lost it once it hit town. We’ll have to search again tomorrow but we’re taking today off. Well, we took today to find you two actually.”
“Yeah, thanks for that.” Stiles says, “And thanks for not crashing my car on the way here.”
“Tomorrow, you two are staying in.” Derek instructs. Both Jackson and Stiles are piping up in protest but Derek is putting a hand up before they can say anything actually coherent and saying, “Not a chance. First, Stiles, you can hardly walk. Jackson, you need about twelve hours’ worth of sleep.”
“We can cuddle all day if you want.” Stiles says with a straight face, turning to look back at him. Jackson’s glare could cut ice and it has Scott and Stiles cracking up while Isaac and Boyd just smirk a little and Derek looks out the window with an eye roll.
After a quick check by Melissa when they get back to the pack house, Stiles is promised that his toes are alright and will stay intact. She promises that they’ll stop hurting pretty soon as well. That is a huge relief to Stiles and with the weight off his shoulder he realizes that he is practically starving and manages to shovel down three bowls of soup without taking a moment to breathe.
When the next day rolls around and the rest of the pack goes out to find the weird little ice creature, Stiles and Jackson end up on the couch watching a marathon of Friends on the TV. Before too long, they’re both falling asleep and it’s not until he hears a muffled chuckle that Stiles wakes up to find Erica and Lydia snapping pictures of how Stiles is leaning against Jackson who has his arm around Stiles. Both yank back when they realize it but Stiles considers it a win when he doesn’t get punched and Jackson just grumbles.
“Are you going to admit I’m a good cuddle buddy yet?” Stiles asks, turning wide eyes to Jackson. In response he finally does get a punch in the arm but it wasn’t nearly as hard as he’d been hit before and Jackson wasn’t acting like he was going to drop kick him, “If I get stuck in a snowstorm again I’ll call you.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jackson grumbles, standing up.
“Don’t worry. Derek and Isaac caught it and got it redirected somewhere it won’t do harm.” Erica tells them, “So hopefully there won’t be any hypothermic cuddles in any of our futures. But, good to know who would save my feet. That might be valuable information.”
“I’d save your feet any day Catwoman.” Stiles says with a grin.
"Aw, you're so sweet. Now sit up, I am a bit chilly so share your blanket with me." Erica says, sliding in next to him.
By the time everyone is back at the house, the snow has finally stopped but that doesn't keep them from finding places around the living room to cuddle up with blankets, and each other. Derek seems adamantly against it until Isaac is giving him the irresistible puppy dog eyes. He ends up finding his way to the corner of a couch so there's only room for someone to be on one side of him which Stiles figures was probably a strategic move on his part. Nevertheless, by the time they've all fallen asleep, Erica has stretched out enough that her head is resting on Stiles' lap and her legs pass over Boyd's so her feet can rest on Derek's lap and he doesn't seem to mind one single bit.