~Hear Me Cry~

By: Aerys Krystie.

Amusement

The next few weeks were hectic for Jackson and Derek's pack. After damaging the female alpha of the other pack, they had tried to set up an attack. Derek had shut them down, threatening to unleash Jackson on them. After killing the maimed alpha, the final alpha decided it would be best if they left. Jackson knew it had nothing to do with him. She was hurting from the loss of her mate and didn't want to lose her entire pack to a non-existent thing. Honestly, it was completely anti-climactic.

Since then, there were no more threats.

Jackson sat in the hallway, staring down the stairs, knees to his chest as he thought. He was feeling things. He had opened his link to Derek, wanting to feel the warmth of the alpha around him all the time. The worst part was wanting to slip into Derek's bed and sleep beside him. He hadn't felt a desire to sleep for the last five months. He drew his knees in closer, resting his arms on them. He couldn't feel his hands on his shoulders, but he liked to pretend he was being hugged.

What took him the longest was squashing down his jealousy. Derek may have called him 'mate,' but they both knew it was an accident. It was just like everything else in Jackson's life. Last week, he had seen Lydia and hugged her, just to see if he felt anything. There was nothing and Jackson had left, angry with everything. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to be mated with Derek.

Shaking his head, Jackson pushed those thoughts out of his mind and stood up. He could feel tears pricking his eyes. He inhaled deeply and wiped his eyes, entering the loft. He closed the door and went to the window, staring out. Derek came to his door and stared at him.

"Is there a threat?"

"No."

Derek yawned. "Then go to sleep…or reboot, whatever it is you do."

"I'm not tired or lagging… Do you seriously think I'm a fucking computer?" Jackson glared at Derek.

Derek sighed and Jackson found he was doing that a lot lately. "Did you want to sleep with me?" Jackson's glare became venomous. "Okay," Derek said with another sigh. "I've got training in the morning. If you're gonna stand there, keep your emotions under control."

Jackson nodded and Derek went back to bed. He frowned as there was a sharp pain in his stomach, but pushed it aside. He continued to stare out the window, until the sun rose. Peter was the first up and he froze when he saw Jackson at the window. Before he could ask the question, Jackson shook his head.

Peter shrugged and began cooking breakfast. Jackson turned to him, tilting his head. He frowned as Peter attempted French toast. Rolling his eyes, Jackson went into the kitchen and pushed Peter out of the way. He grabbed the eggs, bacon and sausages from the fridge. He made the mixture for the toast and began frying it, which seemed to get everyone up.

While the toast browned, Jackson cooked the bacon, knowing that Erica would gut him if he kept her waiting for that. He had the coffee brewing, knowing that Boyd was sour in the morning and got the box of Lucky Charms down for Isaac, along with a glass of orange juice.

While the betas enjoyed the first part of their breakfasts, Jackson washed the pan and fried up the sausages, placing them on a plate and putting that in the middle of the table. Once the eggs were cooked, Derek was at the table. Jackson stacked the dishes neatly and went back to the window, waiting for everyone to finish eating.

"He still doesn't need sleep or food?" Isaac asked, glancing at Jackson. "I thought things were fixed?"

Derek licked yolk from his thumb and shrugged. "I don't know what's going on with him." He stared at Jackson, who just ignored him. He had no idea why Derek wanted to anger him. "Anyway, finish breakfast."

The betas glanced at their alpha and then at Jackson, as though trying to find some reason for the show of indifference. As neither of the werewolves had readable expressions, they did as their alpha ordered and finished their breakfast. They ran from the loft, heading down to the basement for their training.

Derek finished his coffee and stood, looking at Jackson. "Jackson, would—?"

"Yes, I'll do the dishes," Jackson said. He knew that wasn't what Derek was going to ask, but he didn't want to be around him.

"The least you could do is tell me to my face that you don't want to be around me," Derek said and Peter's eyebrows went up.

Jackson turned to Derek and stared at him. "After I finish the dishes, I'll be going somewhere – I don't know where and I don't care – to get out this building and to get away from you. Is that better?"

"Yes."

Peter shook his head as Derek stormed out of the loft. Jackson went to the kitchen and collected the dishes left on the table. He washed them quickly and turned to leave, to find Peter blocking his path. "Don't leave, pup. Spend some time with me, instead."

Jackson frowned. "Why?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Try not to sound too disgusted at the idea, Jackson," he said and pulled Jackson over to the sofa, sitting him down.

"You stabbed me, nine times," Jackson stated, pulling his knees onto the sofa and watching as the television turned on. "How do I know you won't do that again?"

"How would you know if I did?" Peter asked as he sifted through the channels. He glanced at Jackson when he remained silent. "That wasn't meant to upset you, pup."

Jackson stared down at the leather sofa, idly running his thumbnail along the seam on the arm. "I know I'm a freak," he whispered and glanced at Peter. "I'd prefer not to be reminded every day."

Peter gazed at him. "Still nothing, then?"

Jackson flinched as his throat closed up and tears stung his eyes. He could feel all that, but he couldn't feel pain like a normal person. He frowned as he heard a heartbeat in his ear and looked up, seeing that Peter was hugging him. He pulled away, knowing that Derek had felt the sorrow. He swallowed and tried to pretend he wasn't trembling and that he wasn't upset.

"I'm trying," Jackson whispered, his voice cracking. "I swear, I'm trying."

Derek's growl echoed through the building as Isaac got a lucky hit on him. Jackson closed his eyes and pushed the self-doubt away. He was normal, completely and totally normal. He sniffed and looked at the television, blocking Derek's anger. He knew it was directed at him for distracting him.

Peter seemed to know what was going on and nodded. "I believe you, pup. You just need to believe it." He went back to channel surfing and stopped on a movie. "Ahh! A little comedy to lighten the mood."

"I don't know what that is."

"Oh! You're killing me, Jackson!" Peter placed a hand over his heart, staring at Jackson. He grinned and wrapped an arm around Jackson's shoulders, pulling him close. "Let me enlighten you, young, dear pup."

Jackson stared at the television, trying to understand the show. He didn't know half the expressions that were being worn by the actors. The first time Peter shook, he let out a loud noise, still holding onto his shoulders, Jackson looked at him. He didn't understand and turned his eyes back to the television, trying to find what had Peter shaking.

Three hours later, the betas crawled up the stairs. They groaned quietly, all of them muttering that the forest was a better training area. The ground was a lot softer. The trio paused and looked at the television, loud noises coming from their mouths as Peter shook again. Jackson lowered his eyes, keeping his hands on his ankles and wondering what he was missing.

Derek entered the loft, shirt off and using it to wipe the sweat from his face. He walked by the sofa and froze, turning to it and staring at Peter's hand. It was stroking Jackson's neck, who clearly couldn't feel it. Jackson frowned at the sudden anger and turned, looking at Derek. The alpha just glared at him and went into his bedroom. Jackson understood that even less than whatever the noise coming from the betas was.

"Go talk to him now," Isaac whispered into Jackson's ear.

Frowning, Jackson turned around and saw that Erica and Boyd were nodding at him. He turned his eyes to Peter, who heaved him off the sofa. His spot was quickly taken by Erica and Isaac, while Boyd sat in the chair that was usually reserved for Derek.

Jackson just stood there, unsure of what to do. Erica sighed and swatted his backside, which he didn't feel. "You're blocking the TV, Jackson," she growled and stood, shoving him to the side. She then pointed to Derek's room. "Go."

Taking it to mean they didn't want him in the living area, Jackson went into Derek's room and stood at the window. Derek's in the shower and Jackson can feel eyes on him. He turned to the doorway, Boyd and Isaac standing there, staring at him, confused. Jackson frowned as the pair of them grabbed his arms and forced him into the bathroom. They slammed the door and ran back to the living area, Isaac all but letting out a strange sound.

"What do you want, Jackson?" Derek asked over the shower.

Jackson lowered his eyes. "Nothing."

"Then why are you in here?"

Jackson frowned. "I think you."

The temperature of the water was changed and steam filled the small room. Jackson stared at the door, not moving when the shower was turned off and Derek stepped out, grabbing his towel. Giving his body a quick dry, Derek wrapped the towel around his hips and gazed at Jackson.

Jackson stepped back as Derek moved closer, wanting to keep his distance. The moment he could feel Derek's heat, he knew he would feel everything. He would feel the heat of the room, he'd smell Derek and his heart would race frantically in his chest as he tried to push all of that aside.

Derek tilted his head slightly, but made no comment. He gave one command. "Stay." And left the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Jackson stayed in the bathroom, even when the steam clung to him and became condensed on his clothing and skin. He stayed in the bathroom, even when he heard the others ordering dinner. He wanted to step out of the bathroom, but the alpha had given him a command.

His body itched to move, but he told himself the alpha had told him to stay. He would stay where he was, because that's what he was. A machine for the alpha.

Derek seemed to forget where he had placed Jackson, as he was surprised to enter the bathroom and find him standing there, awaiting the next command. Jackson wasn't sure which hurt more – the fact he obeyed a command or the fact that the alpha forgot about him. Derek simply stepped around Jackson and emptied his bladder. It wasn't until he was washing his hands that he told Jackson to leave.

Jackson left the bathroom and found the others were already in their rooms. He went to leave Derek's bedroom, but paused and faced him. "Why did you do that?"

Derek removed his shirt and pulled back the covers of his bed. "I wanted to see what you would do. I don't need an obedient lapdog, Jackson. I need a beta."

"I must obey the alpha."

"Don't," Derek growled and glared at Jackson. "Don't pull that shit. You can challenge some orders."

Jackson nodded and turned from Derek. He tensed when Derek's hand landed on his shoulder, warmth spreading through him. He glanced at the hand and brushed it off, leaving the bedroom and then the loft. He sat in the hallway, standing down the stairs with his knees to his chest. He definitely preferred it when he couldn't feel anything. It made being a good beta easier.

The next few mornings, Jackson made breakfast for Derek's pack. A few times, he joined Peter on the sofa and watched what he called 'comedy shows.' Jackson didn't understand them, but it felt nice to be included in something for once. The others had training techniques to talk about, as well as homework. Sometimes, Peter would join them for training, leaving Jackson to stare out the window.

One day, at some point, they all began to roll into one for Jackson, he was sitting beside Peter on the sofa. The others were down in the basement, training. Peter had his arm around Jackson's shoulders again and even though he couldn't feel the arm, it gave him an idea of what a connection was. And without thinking, he had rested his head on Peter's shoulder, closing his eyes for just a moment.

The thunderous rage that washed over him had woken Jackson. Jackson grabbed Derek's wrist before it could rip Peter from the sofa and throw him around the loft. Having no idea what he was doing, Jackson pressed against Derek's hot, sweaty body and found the touch was nice. It felt right.

Derek was surprised and Jackson rested his forehead on Derek's chest, inhaling deeply. He smelled delicious, like something Jackson could eat all the time. He needed that scent around him at all times. So, he didn't protest when Derek growled at Peter and wrapped his arms around Jackson, letting him feel something that made his chest swell and practically sing.

Don't tell me to stay somewhere again, he sent through their link. Ever again. He felt Derek's hand on his neck, the fingers gently stroking it. The buzzing felt nice, comforting and a reminder that he wasn't a complete lost cause. He had Derek holding him and that's all that mattered at that moment.

"Never," Derek murmured into Jackson's hair, finally losing the glare he was sending to his uncle. "But if you're going to sleep anywhere, it's my bed."

Jackson gave a slight nod. "Okay."

"And I'm never to hear that word from your mouth again," Derek stated angrily.

"Okay," Jackson said and smirked against the beating heart. He accepted the gentle flick on his shoulder and stepped back. For the second time since Derek began warming him, Jackson instantly missed it. He released Derek's wrist. "Perhaps you can find something you find amusing. I don't seem to understand this 'comedy' thing."

Peter snorted, which was cut short. Jackson grabbed Derek's jaw and forced him to stop glaring at his uncle. Derek's face contorted with a dozen expressions, some Jackson recognized and others he didn't. Eventually, Derek just glared at the floor.

"Go shower," Jackson said and returned to the sofa. He pulled his knees to his chest, holding his ankles.

As soon as the shower turned on, Erica was sitting between Jackson and Peter. "What the hell just happened? You two went from almost killing each other with words to…whatever the fuck that was!"

Peter chuckled and patted her should. "Welcome to new mates trying to understand each other. And one of them is an emotionless freak that gets his feelings fed to him through a control freak," he explained, going to chuckle again, when he found his air was cut short.

Jackson leaned over Peter, staring down into his eyes blankly. "Just remember, you can still feel pain. And I have no problem torturing someone," he warned, releasing Peter's throat when he nodded. He sat down on the sofa again, same position. He glanced at Erica. "I don't understand it, either."

Peter groaned. "I explained it. Neither of you have had mates before, thank god. Losing your bond with your mate will send you in-fucking-sane. Trust me, pup. I lived through it and I killed my own niece! You haven't had emotions in months, so you don't know how to handle them. Derek doesn't know how to handle his attraction to you. You were not supposed to be marked. It was an accident."

Just like everything else in Jackson's life. He stared at Peter and nodded, turning his eyes to the television. Tomorrow was a day off from training, as it gave Derek a rest from beating his betas into submission and gave them a chance to think about where they went wrong. Jackson looked over his shoulder, into Derek's bedroom.

That night, after everyone was asleep, Jackson stayed on the sofa. He stared at the dark screen of the television, his mind racing. He knew the bond was an accident, but there had to be a way to break it…aside from death. He turned his head and looked into Derek's bedroom.

Derek was resting against the wall behind his bed, reading. Jackson's eyes dropped to the front cover of the book. Great Expectations. The title of the book elicited a strange tickling sensation in Jackson stomach, that rose up to his chest and out his mouth in the form of a noise.

"Did you just laugh?" Derek asked without looking from the book.

"Is that what that is?" Jackson frowned and lowered his eyes. It tickled. He liked it.

"Get in here."

Straightening his head, Jackson gave it a little shake. "I'll keep watch." Jackson frowned as he felt a tug. "You're about to sleep."

"And we're trying to sleep!" Erica said, frustrated. "So get in his room and fuck him already."

The pull happened again and Jackson gave in. He stood up and walked into Derek's room, standing at the foot of the bed. Derek patted the bed beside him and Jackson hesitated, which made Derek lower the book and stare at him.

"What? What's wrong?"

Jackson stared at Derek. The question that was burning in his mind was pushed to the side as Derek sat up, concern written on his face. "Will you read the book to me?" he whispered, nerves alight from the question that he wanted to desperately ask.

"Yes," Derek answered, just as softly. "If you're on the bed."

Jackson removed the tee-shirt he wore and stepped onto the bed. He sat with his knees to his chest, beside Derek and stared at the wall. A word fluttered through his mind, easing him as much as the hand on his lower back did. Relax. And he did. He laid down, placing his head on Derek's thigh, the hand moving to his shoulder for a moment, before it left his body.

"My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip. So, I called myself Pip, and came to be called Pip," Derek read gently, feeling all of his betas relaxing to the sound of their alpha's voice.

Jackson felt that tickle in his stomach again and let it out in the form of a chuckle. For a moment, despite being an accident, he could believe he was liked and accepted. He closed his eyes as Derek continued to read, ignoring the tear that fell from his eye, being absorbed by Derek's pajama bottoms.

Frowning, Jackson rolled over and curled into himself. For a brief moment, he could pretend he didn't have stabbing pains in his abdomen. After a while, it died off and he stretched out. He wanted to relive the memory of his second day as a werewolf, when he was normal. Erica was kicking his ass during a sparring match. He had felt the pain of being beaten down.

Wrinkling his nose, Jackson thought the scent of his blood was a little too realistic and so was the taste. Sitting bolt upright, Jackson touched the corner of his mouth and looked at the drop of blood. Where had that come from? He saw Derek frowning and ran from the bedroom and out of the loft, and he kept running.

When he was outside of Scott's house, Jackson spat the blood out of his mouth and used the hose to wash it out. He climbed upstairs and slipped into Scott's bedroom. Scott sat up, eyes burning gold and groaned as he sat up into Jackson's hand, who easily shoved his head back to his pillow.

"Down, boy," he said quietly and glanced at the door. "I have a problem."

"Isn't that what Derek's for?" Scott asked as he rubbed his mouth. "You're meant to be his mate. Can't you rudely wake him up?"

"I don't want him to know," Jackson said and glanced over his shoulder, staring at the window. "I know you don't like me," he continued, returning his eyes to Scott. "But I'm scared."

Scott sat up and stared at Jackson. "What's wrong?"

Jackson spat into his hand and showed Scott the blood. "What can cause this?"

"Fuck! I don't know!" Scott shouted and backed away from Jackson. "When did that start happening?"

"The pain started a week ago. The blood started today."

Scott stared at the blood on the hand for a long while, before he finally sighed. "If you don't wanna talk to Derek about it, why not Peter? He's older than all of us and should know about this kind of stuff."

Jackson lowered his hand, making sure to keep the blood pooled in his hand. "Derek doesn't want me near Peter. I think it was because he stabbed me nine times."

Scott's face twisted into horrified surprise. "Why?"

"He called it morbid curiosity," Jackson answered and lowered his eyes.

Scott exhaled shakily. "Derek's going to kill me." He rubbed his eyes and groaned. "All right. Jackson, since you were bitten, you've been nothing but an enigma. First the kanima, now this. No one knows what's happening to you, aside from a small journal from the Argents."

"Do you think they could help me?"

Scott pursed his lips. "I don't know, man. I haven't told them about you, because you haven't been a problem." He shrugged when Jackson tilted his head. "Unless a dead body shows up, I've got no reason to talk to them." Jackson frowned and lowered his eyes. "That's not an invitation to kill someone," he stated.

Jackson looked up and nodded. He stood and went to the window. "I'll talk to them, anyway." As he went to slip out, he paused and looked back at Scott. "I'm meant to say something here…"

"Well, yeah. Usually a 'sorry for waking you' or 'thanks for your help' is said before you leave." Scott scratched his cheek, staring at Jackson. "That aside, I think you should wait. I don't think the Argents will like you waking them up at…" He looked at the clock beside him and groaned. "Oh, god! Jackson, it isn't even six o'clock yet!"

"You're a werewolf."

"I still like my sleep," Scott muttered as he settled back in his bed.

Jackson slipped out the window, ignoring his blood left on the sill. He stepped onto the street and looked around. He hadn't seen Allison since he woke up as a werewolf and his senses had been overloaded with everything. He didn't know what her scent was. He wasn't even sure if he knew where she lived.

Walking along the streets of the town while it was starting to waken was interesting. People leaving for work paused to stare at the teenager that was walking around, shirtless and bare foot. Jackson wandered, aimless for quite some time, until a car pulled up beside him. He looked at the vehicle and then the driver, seeing Sheriff Stilinski in there.

"Jackson," Noah called and Jackson stopped to look at him. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Jackson shook his head. "I don't have a clock."

Noah raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. "Where are you going?"

"I want to see the Argents," Jackson answered. "But I can't remember where they live."

Noah reached across the car and opened the passenger door. "Get in. It's like fifty degrees out there," he said and straightened as Jackson slipped into the car. "Are the Argents expecting you?"

"Expecting me at their house?" Jackson asked for clarification. Noah nodded and pulled away from the curb. "No."

"So…you don't know if they're even awake?"

"No."

Shaking his head, Noah set up his cell phone and called Chris Argent, if the name of the contact was anything to go by. It rang for a while, before a gruff and annoyed voice answered with a sharp, "What?"

"Chris, it's Noah. I've got Jackson with me and he says he's trying to find your house," John explained as he turned a corner.

"Jackson?" Chris asked and Jackson heard the sleep in his voice. "Shit, that kid that turned into the kanima? I thought he was with Derek's pack. Why do you have him? Who'd he kill this time?"

Jackson felt his claws dig into his palms. "Two alphas and two betas," he said with gritted teeth.

"That explains why that pack left the town as quickly as they showed up." Chris stretched and Jackson heard a door open. "Why are you looking for us, Jackson?"

Noah looked at Jackson expectantly, clearly wanting to know the answer as well. Jackson wasn't sure how he could explain it. He didn't even know if Chris would believe him, as he would have to wait for proof.

"I'm a non-existent," Jackson finally said and lowered his eyes.

Chris snorted. "Yeah, right. There hasn't been one of those in over a thousand years. And the one before that was three thousand years ago."

"I can show you when I get there," Jackson said, staring at his knees.

"This had better be worth it, kid," Chris warned and hung up.

"A non-existent?" Noah asked, slowing at a stop sign.

"It's exactly how it sounds," Jackson said and sat back.

"That means…you don't exist," Noah stated and Jackson could smell his confusion. It was nearly identical to Stiles'. "If you didn't exist, I wouldn't see you… Right?"

Jackson lowered his eyes, feeling his throat close up and his chest tighten. "I'm not meant to," he croaked and raised his eyes, glaring at the road ahead.

"You aren't meant to…what? Exist?" Noah glanced at Jackson sharply. "Don't be silly, Jackson. Of course you're meant to live."

"I am. I exist."

Noah shook his head, pulling up in front of a house. He placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "Existing isn't the same as living. There are times when all of us feel like we're just existing, but then something happens and suddenly, existing isn't enough. There's a reason to live."

Jackson lowered his eyes, running the sheriff's words through his head. The door to the house opened and Jackson glanced at the sheriff. "Thanks for your help," he said and got out of the car.

Chris Argent stared at Jackson with tired eyes, which slowly became more awake as he looked at the teen. His eyes took in the scars on the torso and then the throat, before they went back to Jackson's face. He stepped to the side and Jackson entered without hesitation. That was something Chris knew about the kid.

Yawning, Chris pulled out a pistol with a silencer, shooting Jackson in the left shoulder. Jackson froze when he smelled blood and looked at his feet, seeing a splash there. He spun around and glared at Chris, who was lowering the weapon, staring at the newest scar.

"Had to test it, kid," Chris said and beckoned Jackson to follow him.

In the basement, Jackson looked around. He tilted his head at the weapons on display, before he finally looked at Chris. "Can you tell me anything new?"

"How am I meant to know? Why don't you try telling me what you know?" Chris sat on a stool and drank his coffee.

"Six months ago, almost to the day, I woke up as a werewolf. I wolfed out once and started to lose emotions. My hunger and need for sleep followed very soon after. I didn't know I couldn't feel pain, until a hunter attacked me."

"Ahh, yes, I remember him. It was his 'initiation.'" Chris shook his head, but motioned for Jackson to continue.

"That's basically it," Jackson said with a shrug. "After some time, Derek realized I could feel his emotions and has been teaching me since."

"What?" Chris frowned and stared at Jackson. "Non-existents don't feel anything – ever. And while you don't feel pain, that could be from the kanima. You don't have the eyes of a non-existent."

"I don't feel anything touching me, either. Unless it's Derek."

"Okay, too much in…" Chris had held his hand up to stop Jackson from going on, but it started to roll around, as though forcing his brain to work. "Is Derek your mate?"

"I don't know what that is or what it means. Derek agreed with Deaton when it was mentioned."

"Okay," Chris breathed as he stood up. "I'm going to say this. You might have started the process of being a non-existent, but Derek was able to stop the cycle. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night," Jackson answered, feeling a tingle in his body. He was finally getting answers.

"Non-existents don't sleep. They stay awake, until they just…shut down. And that takes years to happen."

"I don't need to sleep," Jackson said. "I wanted to."

"Oh, okay. That makes things easier." Chris grabbed a large tome and dropped it onto the table.

"Dad?" Allison called from the kitchen. "Why is there blood in the front hall?"

"I shot Jackson, honey," Chris called back and opened the book.

Allison ran down the stairs. "You did what?" Her eyes widened when she saw Jackson standing there. "Are those scars? Werewolves don't scar."

Chris stared at Jackson and frowned. "I didn't even think of that. What are those from, anyway?"

Jackson touched his throat. "Derek's claws." His hand dropped to the jagged scar on his chest. "A table leg." He pointed out all the scars that Stiles gave him and what equipment did it. He held up his arm, showing the bite mark. "Me." He held out his hand. "Also me."

"Why did you bite yourself?" Allison asked, taking Jackson's arm and looking at the scar from his teeth.

"Isaac was poisoned by an alpha. My blood heals."

Chris stared at Jackson. "Fuck, you are a non-existent." He finished his coffee and shook his head.

"He's a what?"

"He's a non-existent that's mated to a werewolf," Chris explained and glanced down at the book he had pulled. "This is the first time I've heard about one having a mate. As far as I was aware, they were just searching for a place to belong."

"Dad, Jackson isn't a…whatever," Allison said as she stood beside Jackson and placed a hand on his shoulder. "So, he's a little cold, but that could be a side-effect of the kanima."

Chris shook his head. "From what little I heard from Derek, Jackson had no side-effects." He frowned. "I probably should've realized something was wrong when I stopped hearing from him." He pursed his lips a moment, staring at Jackson. "Has anyone shot you in the head?"

"Yes, Stiles did. I've also stabbed myself in the ear." Jackson could feel Allison's shocked eyes on him. "I had to know if I could die."

Chris opened his mouth, but frowned and shook his head. "I don't know what to say to that. But it doesn't matter. Did anything happen after Stiles shot you?"

Jackson frowned and lowered his eyes. It wasn't long after that that he began feeling warmth whenever Derek touched him. "I could feel Derek's warmth," he said and looked up.

"That's so cute," Allison said and hugged Jackson. "I can't wait to tell Lydia."

"Moving on," Chris said as he walked around the table and rested against it. "You're not a typical non-existent, Jackson. I know you were born after your parents were dead. That's the only typical thing about you. But," he added forcefully when Jackson frowned. "I think you became this way, so you would feel strong enough to stand by Derek's side as his mate."

Jackson felt that tickle in his stomach again and laughed. "This began, long before I even knew Derek had marked me," he said as he calmed down, surprised he found it funny. He wiped the tears from his eyes. "Why would I want to be stronger for someone I didn't even realize I was attracted to?"

"Jackson," Allison said softly. "You've always been attracted to power. You would've become his second-in-command, somehow. Either through sex or brute force."

"I could do that now," Jackson stated with a shrug.

"That's what we're saying," Chris said. "You didn't want to use those methods, so something in your mind clicked. Are you telling me you've never thought of you, now, as the best version of yourself?"

Jackson opened his mouth to disagree, but closed it and frowned. He had thought that about himself and he still did. He was able to protect Derek and Derek's pack. He hadn't even thought about being close to Derek, hadn't felt anything when they were close for the first week. After that, he definitely felt nothing whenever Derek was near him, aside from that tingle in his neck.

"Now, you were saying that Derek began feeding you his emotions?" Chris asked, taking Jackson's silence as confirmation.

"Yes."

"He isn't feeding you his emotions now, is he?"

Jackson shook his head. "I'm starting to learn them on my own."

"Based off of Derek's emotions?" Jackson nodded. "Somewhere along the line, you realized that being emotionless isn't the same as being strong."

"I don't understand."

Allison smiled. "What he means is that you get your strength from Derek. When your emotions unite, you become stronger than you've ever been. Both of you do. And that's good for an alpha."

Chris ran his eyes over Jackson's body, staring at his bare feet. "And you feel nothing from killing an alpha?"

"No. Not from either of them."

Allison's eyebrows went up. "You killed two alphas?"

"Technically, Derek got the final kill on one of them, but she was injured because of me," Jackson said.

Chris stared at Jackson. "Why do they want the old you back?"

"Dad," Allison snapped with a glare. "The old Jackson is much better than an emotionless machine, bent on killing everything until he feels at peace."

Jackson frowned and tilted his head. "At what?"

"At peace," Allison replied and shock settled on her face. "You…I thought Scott and Stiles were joking when they said emotions and expressions were a foreign concept to you recently."

"It would've been nice to hear it before now," Chris said with a sharp glance at Allison. "I could've killed him before he became an alpha."

"I'm not an alpha," Jackson said.

"You killed an alpha," Allison said, moving to look into his eyes.

Jackson let his eyes sparkle blue for a moment. "I'm not an alpha."

"You didn't want it, huh?" Chris asked, reaching for his coffee mug. He sighed dejectedly, forgetting that it was empty. He turned his eyes to Allison. "It's rare, but when they kill an alpha, they can reject the powers. Most werewolves are too concerned with getting extra power that they don't even consider turning it down."

"But Jackson did?"

"I didn't want or need it. I killed an alpha without teeth or claws," Jackson said, feeling a small spark of pride.

Chris raised an eyebrow. "Well, I'm glad I could be woken up at the crack of dawn by you, Jackson," he said and stretched. "But I've got to get things done. Sheriff told me that someone's gone missing while they were out jogging a couple of nights ago."

Jackson frowned and lowered his eyes, opening all senses. He hadn't felt a threat since the pack left, but he didn't know he needed to feel for it. As he tried to get anything, he realized that Derek was waking up and was worried that Jackson wasn't in the bed.

Coming back to himself and shutting down his senses, Jackson looked at Chris. "I don't feel anything. But if it's anything supernatural, it isn't a threat to the alpha or the alpha's pack. I have to get back to the loft."

Allison called a goodbye, but Jackson didn't have time to say anything back. He ran out of the house and made his way back to the loft, just as everyone else was sitting down for breakfast. The werewolves froze and stared at him, their noses wrinkling.

"You saw the Argents, huh?" Peter asked and Isaac growled, his nose twitching.

Jackson recognized the growl and tilted his head. "She hugged me. I didn't touch her."

Derek came out of his bedroom, faltering slightly when he caught the scents on Jackson. "You went to the Argents without me? You can't trust them, Jackson."

Jackson stared at Derek for a moment, before he shouted, "What is that trust thing you keep saying?"

Derek's eyes widened a moment, before they narrowed and he advanced on Jackson, eyes burning red. Jackson felt a spike in his stomach, but he stood his ground. If Derek wanted to put him in his place, he would have a hard time doing it. The claws came out and Jackson frowned, looking into Derek's eyes. He would never hurt him.

"That is trust." Derek stopped and gestured around. "You don't have to stay here, but you do. You know we can't track you, but you stay here. You show off your scars, because you trust us not to mention—And where did that one come from?" Derek demanded, pointing to the scar on Jackson's left shoulder.

"Chris Argent shot me," Jackson said with a shrug. The look of shock on Derek's face made him laugh. "He had to make sure I was a non-existent."

Derek glared. "You're not a non-existent. You're a werewolf, in my pack."

Jackson's eyes half-closed as a shudder ran down his spine, starting from his neck. Blinking, Jackson stared at Derek. "Okay, just…calm down." He rolled his left shoulder. "I figured if the journal Peter stole—"

"Borrowed," Peter muttered into his coffee mug.

"Have you returned it?" Peter remained silent. "The journal he stole was from the Argents, they should know about non-existents." Jackson shrugged and frowned as his left shoulder seemed tight. He massaged the muscle.

Derek shook his head and pulled Jackson closer. "You know you can't feel that," he muttered, working the shoulder. "What did the Argent have to say?"

"Basically, I was actually a born non-existent, but I forced myself not to believe that. It wasn't until I became a werewolf that I tried – tried – to make myself stronger, to stand beside you," Jackson explained, biting the inside of his lower lip as the muscle was loosened.

"Mmm," Peter hummed. "That makes sense. The wolf would have recognized Derek as your mate."

"So I became the best version of myself, which meant becoming a non-existent. I guess it was only natural after being the kanima." Jackson glanced at Derek's face. The alpha's expression was neutral. "Apparently, non-existents search for a place to belong. If they don't find it, they just shut down after years of searching."

"Ah, pups, I'm taking you out for breakfast," Peter said, his chair sliding along the floor. "Up-up-up."

"No," Erica said. "I want to hear this."

"I'm curious, too," Boyd said with a shrug.

"We all want answers, old man," Isaac said, rather boldly for him. "So, sit down, shut up and enjoy the show."

"There's not much else to say," Jackson said, looking over Derek's shoulder. "Everyone keeps saying my place is here, in this pack. I don't need to search for it."

"But you don't feel like you belong here," Derek said quietly, his hands stopping. He ran his fingers over the scar on the shoulder.

"Then let me train with you. I'll even pretend to feel pain and I'll keep my strength down. I need something to do. Staring out a window is now creepy to me." Jackson pointed to the one spot he believed was his in the entire loft.

"Yeah, I think you're picking up on my feelings there," Erica said, pouring cereal into a bowl. "It'll never not be creepy to see you standing there."

"Not sure that's how it works, but okay," Jackson said and shrugged, stepping back from Derek and rubbing the scar.

"As for training, you can join us today. But you had better not break any of them," Derek warned and went to the table.

"Okay. I can just break you, then." Jackson grinned when Derek glared at him. He didn't know why, but it was amusing to see how he could rile up the alpha.

End Chapter.

Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it.

Until the next one.

Peace.
Auska.