Jackson almost dropped his phone. It had been a long time since someone had been able to sneak up on him. "Stiles," he grumbled, pocketing the phone. He could tell, within mere moments, that something was seriously off. Not the minor problems he'd heard McCall talking about. But no one had updated Jackson on Stiles' newly developed issues. Namely the fact that there was more than one running around. "What the hell do you want?" His tone said it plain and clear: he had better things he could be doing.