"Be proud of your place in the cosmos.
It is small. And yet it is.
How unlikely.
How fantastic.
And stupid.
And excellent."
—Cecil Palmer, Welcome to Nightvale
They buried Isbel in the forest, at the foot of an old oak tree. Allison and Scott dug the grave, despite Derek's insistence that if a member of the pack where helping, it would go faster. Allison said nothing, and simply continued to dig. Scott told him they would take as long as they needed.
When the hole was dug, Scott placed Isbel's body in the grave, and then he and Allison covered it back up. They patted the earth flat with the shovels, and stepped back.
"We should say something," Allison said.
"You should say something," Lydia replied. "She liked you."
Allison nodded. She was quiet for a moment. "Isbel... I know you did a lot of terrible things in your life time, and hurt a lot of people. But in the end, you did the right thing, and without you we never could have destroyed your sisters. I will be forever grateful for that... and I want you to know that despite all you did, I am proud to call you my friend. I hope that where ever you are now... it's some place you can find peace."
Lydia put her hand on Allison's shoulder. "That was nice," She said. Allison smiled sadly.
After the small funeral, the group went their separate ways. Allison and Lydia went back to Allison's house and Scott and Stiles snuck back in to Scott's. The pack went to Derek's loft.
Nobody said much as they filed into the loft. While Erica, Isaac and Boyd all curled up together on the couch, Jackson headed straight for the washroom. He locked the door behind him, and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked pale, and there were dark bags under his eyes. The binding and the exorcism had taken a physical toll on him although he bore no wounds. Still, it would all be worth it if...
Heart hammering in his chest, Jackson reached for the hem of his shirt, and pulled it over his head.
No scales.
Jackson blinked and rubbed his eyes, did a double take. Still no scales. Just skin, just his chest and torso and no scales. He put his hands over his face, feeling like he wanted to cry. No scales.
He put his shirt back on left the washroom. Derek was by the stove, putting the kettle on, and Jackson threw his arms around him and pulled him in for a kiss. "No scales," He mumbled, mouth pressed against Derek's. He pulled back and grinned. "No fucking scales."
Derek stared at him, slightly stunned. He lifted up the bottom of Jackson's shirt, revealing the smooth, scaleless skin. "No scales," He repeated, astonished. Jackson nodded, grinning wildly. Derek tugged him forward and kissed him again. "Thank fucking god," He said.
"Scales?" Isaac said, looking at him from his place on the couch. He and Erica had curled up on either side of Boyd, who had his arms over them both. "What scales?"
Boyd ruffled his hair. "Don't ask," He said. "Just be happy they're gone."
Erica nodded tiredly, and shot Jackson a thumbs up.
Jackson felt like dancing. He felt like singing and laughing and... actually, he felt like lying down. His moment of giddyness had distracted him from it, but he was actually quite physically exhausted. Deciding that he would celebrate later, Jackson went over to Derek's bed and flopped down, smiling happily against the pillows. He was free, he was finally fucking free.
While he lay on the bed, Derek brought him over a strong mug of fennel tea—he'd made some for everyone, and informed Erica and Jackson that they would be having at least three mugs full.
As Jackson drank his tea, Derek joined him on the bed. He pulled him into his lap, and Jackson yelped as he tea sloshed around in the cup, threatening to scorch him. "Hot tea, hot tea!" He cried.
Derek's lips trailed along the back of Jackson's neck. "Sorry," He mumbled.
"Should be," Jackson retorted, settling back against Derek. He sipped he tea contentedly, while Derek began to run his fingers over Jackson's body, tracing them down his arm and up over his chest and neck and across his shoulders, kissing his ears and temple and jaw. It was as if he was trying to account for every part of Jackson, touching every piece of him to ensure it was all safe, all still here with him.
"How are you doing?" Derek asked, mouth kissing a slow line up his neck. "How do you feel?"
"Mmm, better now," Jackson mumbled. "Still a little shaky."
Derek nodded. "Drink your tea, it'll help." Jackson took another sip of the hot tea as instructed. Derek watched him cautiously, looking Jackson up and down. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked quietly.
"Talk about what?"
"What happened," Derek said. "Having that witch bound to you... getting exorcised."
Jackson shrugged, and took another sip of his tea. It had been barely a few hours ago he'd had Nan bound to him, but it already felt as if it had happened in another lifetime. The pain she'd inflicted, the tearing and ripping feeling of having her yanked out of him, it barely seemed real. Maybe he was in shock. He didn't really care. The truth was, he felt alright. Better than alright, even. He was still aching, physically, still healing... but he felt good.
Jackson looked up at Derek, who had fixed him with a worried stare. "Honestly, I feel sort of... light," He admitted. "Like a weight's been lifted, you know?"
"Good," Derek said. "That's good."
Jackson nodded. "Yeah, it is. And," He added. "I got to beat the crap out of Matt. It was very cathartic."
Derek smiled at him, and kissed his temple again. He didn't ask what he meant, or how he had been able to beat up Matt. Which was good, because Jackson wasn't sure he would have been able to explain.
Erica, Boyd and Isaac turned on the television, and eventually Derek and Jackson drifted over to watch as well, lying down together on the love-seat. Nothing in particular was being watched—Boyd flicked around from reality television to old movies to sports before settling on some science fiction show Isaac was excited about. Erica fell asleep during the opening credits, and once again Derek did not stop asking questions, prompting Isaac to chuck at least three pillows in his direction. Jackson laughed quietly, his eyes drifting open and shut again. He wanted to stay awake, but he was so tired.
Jackson wasn't sure what time it was. The flickering screen cast the only light in the dark apartment, and as they watched and talked, Jackson had the strange sense of smallness. It was an inexplicable feeling that not even Jackson understood, but at that moment—watching television with his pack in the dark—the world felt very small to him.
It wasn't a bad feeling, on the contrary, there was comfort in it. This was his world, right here, in this room. It wasn't extravagant, it wasn't glamourous... but it was his, and it was good.
Jackson didn't think he would ever want anymore than this.
When Jackson woke up, the loft was filled with the bright light of morning. Derek was still asleep beside him, and the rest of the pack was still upstairs in Isaac's room. Squinting against the harsh light, Jackson dug through the pile of clothes on the floor for his cellphone, which told him it was past noon. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in so late.
At a creaking noise from the stairs, Jackson looked up and found Erica descending. She was wearing a tank top and a pair of boxers that Jackson assumed she'd borrowed from Isaac. He grabbed his own shirt from the floor and pulled it on over his head.
"Hey," Erica said, stepping off the stairs. She cast a cursory glance at Derek's sleeping figure, and smirked. "Morning."
Jackson nodded. "Morning," He returned, sliding off the bed. "The others still sleeping?"
"Like the dead," Erica said. She yawned, stretching her arms out and arching her back. "Want to make breakfast?"
Jackson shrugged. "Sure,"
Erica walked over to the kitchen. "You know where Derek keeps things, right?"
"More or less,"
"Know if he has any pancake mix?"
Jackson shook his head. "He makes them from scratch,"
Erica scoffed. "Of course he does,"
Jackson wound up looking up a pancake recipe on his phone, and together they went about making them. Jackson got the ingredients out from the cupboards and handed them to Erica, and she mixed them into batter while Jackson heated up the stove, and put on some bacon he found in Derek's fridge.
"So..." Jackson said, watching the bacon sizzle in the skillet. "How're you doing?"
Erica rolled her eyes. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" She muttered, while pouring a glob of batter into her frying pan. When she pulled it away, the battle dribbled out of the bowl, leaving a line of pancake mix across the stove. "Ugh."
"You know why," Jackson told her.
"Well, then how are you?" She shot back at him.
Jackson opened his mouth to tell her he was fine, but then reconsidered. He thought about it for a moment. "It was... weird, you know?" He said. "I mean... I feel pretty good now. Great, actually. But while it was happening... I don't think I've ever been so freaked out. It was crazy."
Erica nodded slowly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. It's great, finally having killed those bitches... but I can't stop thinking about what it was like, having her bound to me."
"When they were doing the exorcising, did it feel... did it feel like they were taking something from you?"
"God, yes," Erica replied, her eyes wide. "I thought they were killing me, it felt like they were trying to pull out my organs or something."
Jackson nodded, relieved it wasn't just him. "Me too," He said. "I couldn't stop feeling like they were tearing me open, trying to take something from inside me. Something that I needed."
"It's completely fucked up," She said, flipping a pancake. "I'm just relieved it worked."
"Me too," Jackson agreed. He took the bacon off the pan, and put it a plastic container on the counter, then dropped more bacon onto the sizzling pan. "I don't know how much longer I could've lived like that..." He trailed off, as it occurred to him that he had actually passed the point of being able to live like that.
Erica seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Yeah, I know you were having a particularly tough time there," She said quietly. "But you seem like you're doing better now,"
"Especially now that they're all gone, yeah," Jackson said. "Definitely doing better,"
Erica smiled at him, and punched him on the arm. "Good," She said. "Because the pack wouldn't be the same without you."
Jackson raised his eyebrows. "Seriously?"
"Yes seriously. Without you, who would we have to boss around?"
Jackson rolled his eyes. "Bite me, Erica."
Erica flashed him a toothy grin. "If you ask nicely,"
They continued making breakfast and chatting idly, about their plans for the summer—apparently they would both be attending summer school—and things like movies and television. Erica had a lot of issues with Game of Thrones, over things Jackson had never even considered. The show was apparently a lot more sexist than he'd realized.
Derek was the first of the others to wake up, and he took over making the pancakes, as Erica was making a mess of the stove, getting batter everywhere and creating misshapen pancakes. Erica, scoffing that everyone was a critic, spent the rest of the time sitting on the counter and telling Jackson when he was burning the bacon.
When everything was ready, they called down Boyd and Isaac. After waiting for them for a solid ten minutes, Derek disappeared upstairs, and come back down with a still sleeping Isaac over his shoulder, and a grumpy looking Boyd trailing behind him.
"Aww, you couldn't have let him sleep?" Erica asked, as Derek arranged Isaac on the couch, where he promptly fell over and continued his slumber.
"What are you talking about?" Derek asked. "He is sleeping."
"Yeah, I guess pouring cold water on someone doesn't always work," Boyd grumbled, glaring at Derek in a way that made Jackson pretty sure that it hadworked on him.
Jackson glanced at Isaac. "How do you sleep through someone pouring cold water on you?" He asked.
"Skills," Isaac replied. "Major skills."
"Isaac, if you're awake, come eat something." Derek told him.
"Nope, not awake," Isaac said, turning over on the couch. "Very much asleep."
Derek rolled his eyes. "Fine, we're eating without you."
After he'd had a bit of coffee, Boyd dropped the death glare and perked up to his usual self. "So, what's everyone's plans for the day?" He asked, helping himself to another pancake.
"I think we should have a party," Erica said. "You know, 'ding-dong the witches are dead.' We should celebrate."
"I agree," Isaac said, wandering over from the couch and pouring himself a cup of coffee. Since all the stools were taken, he leaned against the counter while he drank it. "We could tell people it's an end of exam thing."
"That could be fun," Jackson agreed. He looked at Derek. "What do you think?"
"Why me?"
"Because the loft would be the best place to have it,"
Derek scowled. "No," He said.
"Oh, come on!" Erica cried. "Don't you ever get sick of just sitting around brooding all the time? Don't you ever just want to cut lose?"
"No,"
"We could have it at my house," Boyd volunteered. "I mean, my parents will be there, but..."
Erica scrunched up her face. "Gross, no way." She said. Boyd looked offended. "I mean, I love your parents, but any parental presence is an instant party killer."
"You're not having a party here," Derek growled. "The last thing I need is a bunch of drunken teenagers wandering around, touching things, messing everything up.."
Jackson leaned in close, and put his hand over Derek's. "Please, Derek?" He asked quietly. "I could really use some fun, after everything that's happened."
Derek glared at him, and Jackson saw his fist tighten on his fork, bending it slightly. "That is not fair," He said through gritted teeth. "Fine," He snapped, tossing down his fork in anger. It clattered against the counter, bent over at the middle. "Have your damn party."
Isaac and Erica high-fived, and Boyd cheered and pumped his fist. Jackson just smiled, and pressed a quick kiss against the corner of Derek's mouth. "Thank you," He said quietly.
"Yeah, yeah..." Derek mumbled, rolling his eyes. "If you really want to thank me, get me a new fork."
