It was the day before Christmas, All Souls Day, as they called it, the day that all spirituals: Demons, Angels, and Hybrids, get together in all their glory and celebrate. Spirituals were people who are born either Demonic, Angelic, or Hybrids of the two. Demons could do black magic and had ephemeral horns and tails. Angels could do white magic and had ephemeral wings and halos. Hybrids could be born with any mix of the two. Usually these aspects showed, manifested physically, unexpectedly and sometimes painfully.
These people were distinguished from normal people by one aspect, their armor. Spirituals were born into a caste system that was determined by the pieces of armor they could summon and the place they were set, usually their armor came in around puberty, the latest the armor could come in is by their sixteenth birthday. A person with a gauntlet was lower in rank than a person with a chest plate, the smaller the pieces the lower in the rank. The highest ranked were people who had full sets of armor, along with a weapon. Demonic armor was usually heavier than angelic armor but that was the only difference between them, the design and look depended on the person's personality.
Demons weren't evil, though normal people believed them to be, and Angels weren't saintly, like people believed them to be. But Demonics were usually the most successful business men and politicians, they were sly and beautiful and full of unfound confidence, they were basically dicks, assholes, it was culturally and social expected of them. Angelics were the opposite of that, they were expected to act self sacrificing and saintly, were usually doctors and therapist, anything were they could help people, Demonics usually only helped themselves. Hybrids were given the most freedom, they were allowed to do whatever they wanted. Within the spiritual community Hybrids were the most celebrated, were a symbol of the unity and the power between the Angelics and Demonics.
Jackson sat on a bench in the park, the Souls day celebration was going on around him. Everyone from town was there, playing carnival games and eating carnival food, fried candy bars and ice cream, funnel cake, and roasted legs of turkey. The Whittemore's were one of the highest ranked Demonics in town, only rivaled by the Hales, though after the fire there wasn't much left of them. The carnival was being sponsored by Jackson's parents and the Argents, the most respected humans of the town, since there weren't very many angelics who could afford sponsoring. Everyone he knew was there, off during winter break, their last year, senior year. They were just like Jackson except for one difference.
Scott was with his friends showing off his new armor set, his whole right arm and short sword, Derek Hale had adopted him into his family and so Scott was now a Demonic. Stiles was impressed and happy, he could finally talk to Scott about things he never could before, Stiles was a Hybrid, angelic mother and demonic father. Allison was also impressed and happy for Scott, she knew this would be good for him. Danny was with them, he was an angelic and like Scott his whole left arm was covered in armor, they clashed their gauntlets together in celebration, demonic steel crashed against heavenly adamantine and released a harmonic clang.
Jackson sat on a bench and tried to ignore the group of demonics walking his way.
"Hey Jackson," said one of them as the rest circled around him, trying to cut him off, intimidate, "what are you doing here all alone. What, are you jealous that stupid little Scott is better than you, that he got what you never did." The group laughed and Jackson clenched his fist and fought hard against his anger. "God, your parents must feel so disappointed, adopted you and everything and what did they get, a dud." Jackson was faster, and stronger, and smarter than all of them. He punched, jabbed, and hit every person in the group until they were sprawled on the floor unconscious. The biggest mistake a spiritual could make is to believe that could easily beat a normal person, yes they had advantages, but if they didn't know how to use them they would never stand a chance against anyone.
Jackson walked away from the large crowd and tried to find somewhere where he could just be left alone with his thoughts. He tried hard not to think of how badly disappointed his parents must be in him. When he reached puberty and didn't get his armor, his parents just assumed he was a late bloomer. But his sixteenth birthday came and went and nothing happened. Now he was eighteen and brutally human, Jackson hated it and himself because of it. He sighed, and tried to control the burning in his eyes. He walked into the woods and away from the revelry.
He always loved the woods, the wet mossy smell of it. He loved how green it became in the spring, its fecund beauty, the way flowers grew out of the ground and created a colorful carpet on the forest floor. He loved it in the winter when it was dead and desolate, it reminded him of himself, the way he would sometimes feel, inside. He found a nice large tree and sat on its roots, leaned back against it and waited for the night to end.
He closed his eyes and thought maybe he could sleep, for an hour or two, until the celebration ended. He set the alarm on his cell phone and closed his eyes. He heard a twig snap in front of him and opened his eyes. He couldn't really see anything, it was dark and a little foggy, but still, he could hear a rustling in the underbrush. He lay still and hoped it was just a deer or some other animal.
The moon's crescent face hung high over the trees and cast a light glow upon the ground, just enough to see by. Derek Hale didn't need it, he was a full demonic, his eyes penetrated the darkness. His armor hung heavily on his frame and made moving hard and annoying. He hated these days, days when Spirituals armor came out whether they wanted it to or not. Most of the time Spirituals kept the armor hidden away, on a different planes of existence, and when they needed it, all they had to do was summon it, think of it, and it would appear on their body.
Derek's short pointy horns itched, they weren't even real, not physically, but they were there, like the touch of a ghost. His large tail was wrapped around his own leg and appeared right on the outside of his jeans, because it wasn't real he didn't have wear his specialty jeans, the ones with the tail holes. Derek rarely manifested his real horns and tail, it hurt like a bitch and only real show offs did it. The Whittemore's wouldn't be caught dead doing it, they found it low class, Derek reluctantly had to agree, it was something only lesser demonics did to intimidate and show of to regular people.
Derek had wanted to talk to Scott, to keep him from embarrassing himself and the Hale name. Scott still didn't understand that being adopted into his family meant that everything he did reflected back on Derek and he wouldn't allow Scott to do something to make his family look like idiots. He had adopted Scott because Derek couldn't stand the thought of his families name dying with him and so he would do what he had to, even if it meant adopting…less than adequate members into his family. But Scott was good, he just needed some training and Derek knew he would be a person worthy of having the Hale name. Scott's mother was also happy to know that her son had someone else he could rely on and a name with some weight to it.
Derek stood with Scott and watched him interact with his friends, they were young and happy to finally be out of school, they talked about what they wanted to do for the rest of their break, what presents they wanted for Christmas. As they talked Derek noticed the group of demonics as they made their way to the towns golden boy. He was just sitting on a bench, a far off look on his face, passive, until the other boys surrounded him. Ever since Jackson had passed his age to turn and remained very normal, all the other spirituals thought it was time Jackson got a taste of his own medicine. The boy walked around as if he were a full demonic, he had the name behind him to do so, but now that he wasn't, he became target number one for all the demonics he had tortured when he was younger. A huge mistake, a person didn't walk around as confident as Jackson did without a way of proving it to other people, and Jackson had more reason to prove it than the rest of them. These boys must have forgotten.
Everyone noticed when Jackson knocked out the group of boys, but no one did anything, how could they, he was a Whittemore, Jackson just walked away. For some reason, Derek followed. From where he stood he could hear the low rhythmic breathing of the boy…man. Jackson slept beneath the tree, and an hour later his phone sounded, it was a call, his mother wanted to introduce him to one of his father's friend's daughters, Jackson hated that shit, but he agreed. He dusted himself off and set off back to the town square.
The next day, Christmas, meant another party, this time his parents had invited all the higher demonics to their house to eat dinner with them, she even invited Derek Hale, and if Derek was coming so would Scott and Scott would bring all his stupid little friends. Jackson tried hard not to be too annoyed about the dinner, he oddly just wanted to spend some time alone with his parents, they thought he was too old to still want that, but he wasn't.
This last year in high school all off his friends jumped ship and became Scott's friends, even Danny, the one person he'd counted on his whole life. He didn't care, but he wouldn't pretend like them, like Jackson had driven them away somehow, no, they abandoned him, just like everyone else did. They still sat with him, but they talked to Scott, Danny and him still hung out, but only when Scott couldn't, and Jackson wouldn't be anybody's plan B. So Jackson learned to entertain himself, and surprisingly, found some friends outside of school, found a job coaching children during an after school program, he taught them baseball, soccer, and of course, lacrosse.
Jackson ate his breakfast and then went for a run through the woods. He followed his old path, the most scenic one, and enjoyed the peace and quite. Running through his lonely woods was amazing, he never liked running through the busy and noisy streets of the town. He didn't like the smell of the gutters or the fumes that came out of the cars, no, none of it compared to the cold beautiful woods of his home. Jackson wondered what he would do when his last year at high school ended. He really didn't have any plans, but maybe he would go somewhere far away and start over, remake himself into something he liked. He was himself and people didn't like him for it, maybe he would find a place where he wouldn't have to change, were people accepted him for who he was. Jackson knew all that was just childish dreaming, no such place existed.
He returned home, showered, and changed, he did some homework and passed the time chatting to some of his new friends on the internet. They were good friends, true friends, and Jackson really liked them even though at times he felt like a stranger when he was with them, but that feeling always passed quickly. When evening approached he put on some nice dress clothes, slacks, button up, and a blazer. He didn't want to do this, but he took a deep breath and practiced his smile in the mirror, it was perfect.
The dinner was going well, Jackson was busy talking to one of his fathers business friends, they were talking about the state of the Japanese Yin, it was boring but Jackson had eighteen years of practice faking this stuff. When he finished with one person he moved on to another one of his father's friends, he was a university professor at UCLA and taught anthropology, Jackson was actually super interested in this and they had a nice long discussion on the cultural and societal changes the spirituals had gone through since the old ages. His father's personal assistant, what's her name, Jennifer, was a twenty six year old psychic, a Hybrid, great for industrial espionage, and she was giving Jackson the sex eyes, he ignored her and instead shoved an appetizer in his mouth. His mother called them all to the table and they all sat in their assigned seats. By some miracle, his mother sat him next to his father, at the head of the table, the professor sat next to him. Derek sat across from him and Scott, who brought Stiles and Allison, next to Derek.
Jackson ate and let the noise of the people around him drown out his thoughts. The food was catered by some place Jackson didn't know, but the mash potatoes were delicious and the lamb, a surprising choice, was moist and amazingly spiced. He sipped a nice dry wine and enjoyed the warmth that spread through his chest.
"So Jackson what do you do after school," asked Derek looking right at him. Jackson was busy eating and his father had to kick him underneath the table to get his attention.
"Oh—well I'm coaching a group of kids down at the elementary school,"
"That's so cute! But, why are you doing that, wouldn't you rather hang out with your friends," asked his father personal assistant, slutty Jennifer,
"Well, I guess…there just aren't that many people lining up to hang with me," said Jackson. No one knew what else to say and soon his father changed the subject. Derek stared at Jackson, but Jackson didn't notice. He ate something off his plate, a weird paste next to his salad, he assumed the dressing. It was spicy, too spicy, it burned his entire mouth and the top of his esophagus. He coughed and covered his mouth with his hand. He took a sip of wine and felt the spice course down his throat, burning all the way down to his stomach and felt that catch fire. He abruptly stood up and bumped hard into the table, shaking it down its whole length.
"Jackson honey, are you okay," called his mom from the other end of the table. Jackson turned away coughing and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. The dining room led into the kitchen and were only separated by a small open bar. The guests could see Jackson pour himself some water from the sink. Jackson took long gulps but felt them go down the wrong tube towards his lungs, he choked and let out a wet cough spewing most of the water out of his mouth. He chocked and felt the burn in his stomach spread through his body until he couldn't even choke, felt the burn blaze and rise from his insides out to his flesh. Jackson dropped the cup and grabbed at his throat, he couldn't breath.
The guests stood up and started to walk towards Jackson, Derek stopped them. When Jackson turned towards them they could see a bright light emanating from his eye sockets, lowly out of his mouth, and even his nostrils. They watched that light grow and brighten until Jackson looked like some obscene jack-o-lantern. The light grew until it radiated off of Jackson's body illuminating the room like a small star, then the noise started. A high pitched noise seemed to emanate from Jackson, it wasn't a voice, or a sound the human vocal cords could make, it was something powerful and stunning. The guests had to cover their ears and turn their eyes away, they were driven to their knees as the light and the sound drove them to horrifying pain, their skin burned as if burnt by a blow torch, Scott's ears bled.
Jackson felt his skin catch fire until there was nothing left, he felt his soul rip out his body and fly away from him, off the planet, past his galaxy, through his universe, plunged deep into the blackness of space until he was surrounded by light. He heard the sound of his voice as he felt it, the feeling, the amazing feeling that made him cry, he felt as the light surrounded him and reminded him that he wasn't alone, would never be alone, he was loved, Jackson was loved, and he rejoiced, he sang with his voice so that all could hear him. He felt his soul surge inside his body until it all pulled back to his mortal coil.
When it ended the guest, stood up slowly, and looked at Jackson. He stood there in the kitchen, as if nothing had happened. He turned toward them and the guests could see that same glow in his eye sockets, just not as powerful. His body was covered in a rich set of silver adamantine armor. He shone from his head to his toes, his chest plate was embossed with the pattern of a wolf, in its mouth, the crescent moon, underneath that, a set of exquisite ring mail. Around his belt he wore a long sword, the hilt was wrapped in rich black leather, the blade stretched long and deadly. Over his shoulder flowed a deep black cloaked hood, it covered his body entirely in the richest black anyone had seen, like the night, like inky space. His helmet came forward around his mouth to a sharp point, his visor was up and the strange glow could be seen from within. On top of his head floated a crown, incredible in its simplicity, it was made of light. Behind him stretched a pair of large black wings, they too were made of pure darkness, intangible. The guest were stunned, no one knew what had happened. Derek was amazed by the sublime beauty of it all.
It all disappeared, blinked out of existence, and all that was left was normal Jackson, who fell to the ground and convulsed violently, he was having a seizure.
Jackson groggily opened his eyes, he couldn't see anything, his eyes were too moist and refracted the light, made everything appear strangely distorted. He closed them and rested. Not much later he awoke when he felt something brush his forehead, he opened his eyes and saw a young attractive girl, bright red hair and black eyes. She was wiping the sweat off his brow with a cool cloth, which actually felt pretty amazing. She was dressed in a long blacks smock, above her head floated a small halo in the shape of a laurel wreath. She was dressed like a nun.
The next time Jackson awoke it was the middle of the night. He was hot, too hot, it felt like he was burning from the inside out, felt the heat leak out of his eyes, his mouth, everywhere. Again, light began to grow inside of Jackson, began to spill out of his body illuminating the hospital room. He felt that same amazing presence, felt loved, felt whole, and in the back of his mind, in the dark place where he could still think, that was just him, he felt like he didn't deserve it. Doctors rushed into his room and in a mix of black and white magic, were able to calm Jackson's grace fever, a disease which only affects angelics, causes their internal grace to burn bright and often ended with the death of the angel when he was turned into dust by the power of his own grace gone wild.
For two days Jackson's life balanced on the verge between life and death. On the third day Jackson awoke feeling…okay. He ached all over and his skin felt as if it had been scolded with hot water, but other than that he felt okay. He spent most of the day alone in his hospital bed watching bad day time television, no one visited. Later that evening his doctors walked into his room, a team of an angelic and demonic, they specialized in treating spiritual only illnesses. They asked him all the normal questions, how he felt, what he remembered, if he had a history of allergies, they sat in chairs next to his bed and just stared at Jackson for awhile.
"So, do you know what happened?" asked the demonic doctor, his large stag like horns protruded from the top of his head, they were see through, ghostly. The angelic doctor sat next to him, over his head floated a thin band of pure light, a traditional halo.
"Ugh…not…exactly," Jackson had no idea why he was in the hospital. "I think I had a fever or something…" The doctors looked at each other and then at their notes, shuffled them around before getting back to Jackson.
"Well Jackson it seems as if…well I don't know how to say this but apparently you violently came into your spiritual being, you're an angelic," said the doctor and handed Jackson a mirror. Jackson looked at himself in the mirror, noticed how pink and dry his skin looked, and pulled the mirror back until he could see the top of his head, over it floated a crown made of light, it was a fucking halo, Jackson had a fucking halo. His eyes went wide, he looked at the doctors and they smiled back at him.
"I don't—wha—what does this mean, I am eighteen. How is this possible?" Jackson had wanted this so bad when he was sixteen, he'd tried getting over it the past two years. Now he was freaking the fuck out, what did it mean?
"Well, we've been running some diagnostic spells to see what could have caused it, what we found…well…it isn't something we're used to seeing," said the demonic.
"What is it?"
"Well," started the angelic, "it seems that at a very young age, we're assuming the day of your birth…well it seems someone put a binding spell over your spiritual being, suppressed it with a spell that we are assuming was meant to last…your lifetime."
"Are you saying that…someone put a spell on me to prevent me from getting my armor, my magic…that's…why?" Jackson was stunned, he didn't know why anyone would do that, why would someone do that to him, it was so unbelievably cruel.
"We don't know all we know is that your angelic grace had been building ever since you hit puberty and three days ago it became powerful enough to burn through the spell that was meant to suppress it. It…it nearly killed you, but you've made it through," finished the demonic.
They finished doing their check up and ran a few more diagnostic spells on him, everything came out fine, he was healthy. His parents didn't visit, no one did, and Jackson pretended not to be hurt by it. He wondered if his parents were mad at him, would they accept an angelic in their family, Jackson didn't know. He knew there were groups of demonics who hated angelics like nothing else, who would disown anyone in their family that turned out that way.
Night rolled in and Jackson wasn't sleepy, he tried sleeping but couldn't, he could feel the people in the hospital around him, sense them, their presence, could feel their suffering and it completely and utterly freaked him out. Every time he closed his eyes he could hear their thoughts, felt them invade his brain, could feel them taking over his mind, he would become them, their memories flooded his mind, until Jackson pushed them out hard, trying to desperately cling to his own being. Jackson tried to ignore the heavy feel of his wings on his back, the way the feathers sounded as they moved about, their light rustle, they were sensitive, really sensitive. It all added up and made it nearly impossible for Jackson to just relax and sleep. Finally around three am he couldn't take it, he pressed the call nurse button and waited. To his surprise Ms. McCall entered his room.
"Ugh…I'm having trouble sleeping and I was wondering if, I don't know…you could give me something to help…"
"Let me check your chart…Your one of Scott's friends right,"
"Uh yeah,"
"That's nice, well your doctors actually prescribed something just in case, give me a minute and I'll go get it." She returned not much later with a tiny pill and handed it to Jackson who swallowed it down with some water. The pill helped dull all the new sensations enough that he could actually close his eyes and sleep.
The next day the doctors gave him the all clear and he was allowed to go home. His parents actually showed up to take him home and were glad that he was okay, though Jackson doubted it since they couldn't take time out of their busy lives to at least visit him. The drive home was quite. Jackson would sometimes catch his parents staring at his halo in the rearview mirror, since his dark wings seemed to disappear when they weren't directly in the light. Jackson shrunk in his seat, even his own parents didn't know what to do with him. He wondered if his parents had felt this way the first day they'd adopted him, had they driven home with baby Jackson in the car seat bundled in blankets, had they stared at him in the rearview mirror as they did now, did they wonder what they got themselves into, had they known what to do. Jackson closed his eyes and tried to calm his nerves.
When he got home his parents said they were going to bed, told him to remember that he only had two weeks left of his vacation and to finish any homework he had left. His parents climbed the stairs to the second floor master bedroom and stopped half way up. His mother turned and ran down the stairs and hugged Jackson hard. He hadn't expected it and let his arms hang at his side. But he got his sense back and hugged his mother in return. His father followed, he looked at his son and squeezed his shoulder with a hand, looked him in the eyes with such pride, they then went to bed. Jackson felt better, a lot better and he didn't feel bad about the tears that escaped his eyes.
The next week Jackson mostly stayed in his house, he couldn't believe he had finally got what he wanted, he was finally a spiritual, but he was the wrong kind, he was supposed to be a demonic, he was supposed to make his parents proud, instead he came out angelic, he was weirdly embarrassed about it. He didn't want people to see him like this, unable to hide his halo and wings, it was just so embarrassing. But the second week he couldn't stand being stuck home doing nothing, he had finished all his homework the first two days and he could only chat with his work friends for so long before it became too boring. On the third day, of his last week of vacation, he decided that he would go on a run. He dressed and laced his shoes and set off into the woods.
The run was amazing and inspiring, seeing the woods as a spiritual made Jackson feel as if he had never opened his eyes before. He could see that everything was alive, everything had a soul and it breath and pulsed with the rhythm of his running, breathing. The feeling of the wind as it swept through his feathers made his entire body tingle with incredible pleasure. He ran and leaped over hills and puddles and as he ran faster and faster he felt his wings extend behind him. He wasn't trying or expecting it, but one second he was running the next he was floating over the ground. It was exhilarating, it was primal, it was the most enjoyable thing he had ever done in his life. He landed and laughed, full of pure joy. He got up and ran fast and hard trying to do it again, which he did, over and over. He ran deeper into the woods than he ever had before, too happy to notice. He rounded a bend, giant smile on his face, until he crashed hard into something.
Jackson was knocked senseless for a few seconds until he felt whatever was underneath him stir. He pushed off the ground until he was sitting, above him rose Derek Hale, angry scowl on his face. Jackson laughed, he couldn't help it, he was still blissed out on flying, and Derek looked hilarious with a scowl on his face and dead leaves sticking out of his hair. He wasn't really angry though, he was too busy staring at Jackson, who suddenly remembered his halo and wings were visible, and then he was embarrassed. He blushed.
Derek held his hand out to Jackson, who took it and stood. He slapped all the dead leaves off himself and crossed his arms across his chest. Derek gave him the elevator look, from head to toe and back up again, Jackson squeezed his arms harder around his chest, he felt as his wings settled over his shoulders and around his body blocking Derek's view of himself, a completely involuntary reaction which just embarrassed Jackson even more.
"I'm glad your okay, you really scared us last week, no one knew if your were okay…your parents didn't tell anyone…I guess now we know what happened." Derek reached his hand out to touch Jackson's halo, but Jackson flinched away from him and Derek was embarrassed by his own involuntary reaction. He apologized, Jackson said it was okay, he stood there one more second before just turning and running away. 'That was fucking awkward', thought Jackson.
The last few days left of his vacation was spent teaching himself to fly. It was almost instinctual, the way he learned to turn his wings slightly inward, learned to catch the wind underneath them. He jumped off his roof and drifted slowly downward to the ground. He stood still and pushed down hard with his wings, he blasted gusts of wind downward, he did this over and over, but felt that there was something he was doing wrong. He closed his eyes and focused on his wings, felt the light breeze tickle his feathers, he thought of flying upwards, felt that small presence within in himself, the light, and he flapped downwards. When he opened his eyes he was high above his house, he could see the whole forest around it, and then he plummeted. He tried not to panic, he out stretched his wings like he knew, it was hard, the wind made it nearly impossible, but he did it and then he was floating as he feel lightly to the ground. He could feel the wind on his wings, could feel the differences in air pressure, the updrafts. Whenever he caught one he would allow the wind to curl underneath his wings and push him upwards. He flew high up into the clouds, floated among the moist air droplets that hung high in the atmosphere. He saw the sun in all its glory, free from all the smog and dust, high up in the sky. It was cold, but glorious in a way Jackson had never imagined.
He pointed himself downwards and floated slowly to the ground. As he circled down towards his house, he could see his parents standing in the backyard, glasses of wine in their hands. Some one was standing with them but Jackson couldn't tell who. He landed in front of his parents with a loud snap of his wings scaring the group of three. Jackson had the biggest grin on his face as he walked past his parents and Chris Argent, and into the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and took the stairs two at a time to his room.
Later that night Jackson stood naked in front of his full length mirror and appraised himself, he flexed his muscles and twisted his body around to get different views. His bottomless black wings made his creamy flesh look even paler in contrast, it almost seemed to glow. Above his head hung his crown, his halo, it glowed a whitish blue, and seemed to accentuate his bright blue eyes. Jackson had to admit it, he looked good, better than good, he looked incredible. He lifted his wings and stretched them out as far as they would go. They were long, longer than he had thought, they seemed to be twice his body length. He bent them high, and then around himself. It was strange, they were see through, sort of, the blackness made them almost impenetrable, when light hit them they became even darker. In his dark room he could barely see them.
Jackson was excited to go to school, he couldn't wait, he wasn't embarrassed anymore, not when he looked as good as he did. No, he would finally show everyone he was better than them, he was a full angelic, the only one in town and none of them would see him coming.