~Hear Me Cry~
By: Aerys Krystie.
First Kiss
Less than an hour later, Jackson was with the others in the basement. Erica was cracking her knuckles, grinning at him as her eyes flashed gold. Jackson assumed she was looking forward to beating him down again and that was something Jackson could live with.
As their claws made near-misses, Jackson grinned. It felt fun to move like that. It felt nice to be like them. It felt freeing to move with speed, dodging attacks and dealing them out. Erica had become swifter since the last time Jackson sparred with her. She was nearly as fast as him.
Jackson knew his speed would only increase when he became a werewolf and it was something he used to pride himself on. Derek worked with Isaac, while Peter and Boyd had fun swinging at each other. Jackson was thrown to the ground, rolling to a stop at the stone stairs. He was on his feet in an instant and his punch knocked Erica down.
Growling, her eyes flashing playfully, Erica tried to sweep his feet out from under him. Jackson stepped over them and easily lifted her to her feet. He grinned as she nodded her head appreciatively and then gave him a punch to the gut. Jackson groaned and dropped to his knees, arms wrapped around his abdomen.
Derek growled and shoved Erica out of the way. Jackson could feel blood filling his mouth and pulled away from Derek's hands. He staggered to his feet, vaguely hearing Erica apologize as Derek roared to know what happened.
"I didn't hit him that hard! I swear, Derek. It was a love tap. Jackson, I'm sorry." She tried to help him, but dropped to the ground as Derek roared at her, submitting to her alpha.
Jackson stumbled over to the stairs and leaned on the railing heavily as he went up. He felt arms around him and glared at Derek, shoving him away. He could get up to the loft alone. He needed to be alone. His head pounded in time to his erratic heart. His body trembled as pain coursed through him and he tried not to vomit from the taste of blood in his mouth.
Derek's hands were on him again and Jackson shoved him off, eyes sparkling blue. Derek seemed to understand and stood back, watching him make his unstable ascent of the stairs. Just when he thought he could relax, Jackson remembered there was another flight of stairs to climb. He went to start up it, but hesitated. There was a chill running down his spine, which he felt over the heat the pain was erupting over him. The last time he felt that chill was when the other pack was in town.
Jackson strained his ears. He could hear Derek barking out orders in the basement. There was someone walking a couple of dogs. Another was jogging. There was something creeping near the jogger. There was a scream of surprise and Jackson spun to the door, ready to run out of it. But the scream became a laugh and the words spoken were warm. Frowning, Jackson turned and climbed the stairs to the loft.
Once inside, he went to the shared bathroom and spat the blood out of his mouth into the toilet. He had forgotten to ask Chris about that and he was starting to regret it. There wasn't anything he could do about it, though. He flushed the toilet and washed out his mouth, probably using way more mouthwash than was necessary. He didn't need any of them smelling the blood on his breath, though.
Looking down his torso, Jackson frowned when he saw a bruise there. His eyes widened and he went to Derek's room, opening his suitcase. He pulled a hoody on and zipped it up, pulling the sleeves over his hands as he went to his ususal spot. He stared out the window, trying to keep his emotions under control.
The pain radiating from his abdomen made standing for more than a few minutes impossible. Sitting down made it almost bearable, but he didn't want to sit. He wanted to stand and think. He didn't want to sit down and try to force pain away. Eventually, he made his way into Derek's room and laid on his back. The pain eased and Jackson closed his eyes, making sure his abdomen was covered.
A couple of hours later, the four betas crawled up the stairs and collapsed in the living area. All of them still felt the pain from where their alpha showed his dominance. They groaned and Erica was the first into the bedroom. She stared down at Jackson. Opening his eyes, Jackson stared at her and she breathed a sigh of relief.
Erica came to the side of the bed and knelt down. She had her eyes lowered and Jackson could feel her trying to get up the strength. "I'm sorry," she said quietly and looked up. "I didn't…I didn't mean to hurt you."
Jackson raised a hand and placed it on her head. "You didn't do anything wrong."
"I hurt my alpha's mate."
"No, you didn't. The alpha's mate hurt himself for letting you get that cheap shot in."
Erica raised her head and Jackson's fingers gently brushed her cheek as his hand fell. She smirked and then laughed. She stretched over and hugged Jackson as much as she could. Jackson knew he would need to talk to Derek about treating the betas better.
"I hope you feel better soon," she whispered and pulled back, joining the others in the living space.
So do I, Jackson thought miserably and felt warmth coming from Derek. His eyes widened and he sat up, staring at Derek. Some emotion was running through him that made him forget about the pain of his abdomen. Something that made him want to dash from the room.
Derek frowned as he stepped into the room and Jackson had one foot on the floor, ready to bolt either way. "I haven't smelled fear on you for a long time."
"That's what this is?" Jackson looked at his trembling hands. He tried to breathe and found that was difficult. "Is that why I can't breathe? Why does it feel like the walls are closing in on me?"
Jackson groaned and doubled over, trying to breathe, trying to ignore the pain in him and trying to calm his frantic heart. When he felt Derek's hand on his back, he snarled and swiped at him, claws splashing the alpha's blood onto the floor. Realization took over for a moment, before the pain doubled and Jackson screamed, burying his face into the covers of Derek's bed.
Through the blood pounding in his ears, Jackson could hear Derek demanding to know what was happening. From a distance, he heard Peter's voice saying he didn't know. Jackson was existing within that body and he didn't know what was happening to him. That hand was on him again and the anger spiked, dulling the pain long enough for him to wrap a hand around Derek's throat and throw him into a wall.
"I don't think he wants you touching him," Isaac said, helping his alpha to his feet.
Jackson buried his face into the covers again, screaming as the pain, somehow, managed to get worse. Everything in his abdomen was cramping and almost shuddering. He heard Derek snap at one of them to get Deaton. Jackson hunched up as much as possible, trying to alleviate some of the agony.
Jackson's eyes widened as he stared at the covers. He couldn't see them, though. He was seeing something else, a cave somewhere. He could feel the cold on the body and see a figure lumbering towards him. Fear ripped through him and he looked up, his hands were chained above his head. The figure was closer and the stench of rotting meat clung to the damp, chilled air. There was a growl.
Clawed hands scratched him and Jackson realized it wasn't him. He was in Derek's loft, on Derek's bed. But he could feel each tear of the skin. He screamed as the hand went into the abdomen, pulling out the intestines, which were discarded. It didn't want those.
"You're killing her!" Jackson shouted, another pained scream ripping from his mouth as he felt the liver being picked out. The body twitched and Jackson fell into an abyss.
Jackson forced his eyes to open. Night had fallen and he was placed under the covers of the bed. He sat up and groaned at the pain from his abdomen. He moved onto his knees and winced as a lamp was turned on. Derek stood beside the bed, glaring down at him.
"A week," Derek said, claws digging into his palms.
"What?" Jackson asked groggily, trying to understand why he felt like he just went ten rounds of bare-knuckle boxing with a bear.
"Scott told Deaton that you were feeling pain for a week," Derek stated the anger leaving his body. Jackson felt nothing from the link. "Then you showed up at his house this morning, spitting up blood."
"That…" Jackson frowned, swaying as he looked up at Derek. "That was this morning?"
"Yes," Derek snapped, the anger returning to his eyes.
"Maybe…" Jackson mumbled as he struggled to move his limbs. He had to find that cave. As he straightened out to slip off the bed, he crumpled into a heap, curling into himself. "Maybe…"
"Maybe what?"
"Her…she…the pain…every…thing…"
Gritting his teeth, Jackson tried to crawl off the bed. He would slide to that cave if he had to. He couldn't let her stay in there, in that tomb without anyone knowing where she was. The problem was, he didn't know where she was, either. He just knew it was cave-like.
Staring at the window, Jackson tried to find her. He tried desperately to see through her eyes again, even if it meant the pain. He needed to know if she was alive, in agony, but still alive. He found nothing. There was nothing there. No one was trying to get free. He had failed.
Warmth wrapped around him and it was like a light at the end of a long, dark tunnel. Opening his eyes, he realized he was laying on Derek's legs. They were on the floor, but he was on Derek and Derek was that warmth. He couldn't stop shaking. No matter what he did, he couldn't stop his body from trembling.
His mind felt clearer, though. He could feel Derek's fingers running through his hair. He could smell Derek. Somehow, he knew a day had passed. Derek wasn't angry with him anymore and he had no idea how he got off the bed.
"The floor?" Jackson asked.
"You were trying to crawl out of the room. This was the middle-road I found." Derek's fingers ran down Jackson's back, hot and heavy over the hoody. "Why didn't you tell me about the pain?"
Jackson pulled away from Derek, sitting with his back to the bed. He gazed at him calmly. "I wanted to handle it on my own. You were having trouble, after killing another alpha. The blood scared me, so I asked Scott."
"He told me you were going to see the Argents about it," Derek said and Jackson shrugged.
"I was more concerned about learning what a non-existent was." Jackson frowned and looked at his hands. "I can't even feel my own hands on my body, Derek. Half the time, I don't even know if I'm real." Derek went to move forward and Jackson knew it was an instinct, to protect and soothe. But that didn't stop him glaring at the alpha, who sat back. "No," he said.
Derek nodded and swallowed, crossing his legs. "You're punishing me, aren't you?"
"Yes. What Erica did to me was done during training," Jackson said, his eyes hardening. "You can't punish them just because I'm your mate. You've got to realize that if something bad happens and we're called out to fight, I will be hurt. It wasn't her fault. Say it."
Derek glared at the floor and was silent for a few long moments, before he huffed. "It wasn't her fault."
"Thank you!" Erica said from her room and they heard a lamp turn off.
Derek got up and turned on the overhead light. He pulled Jackson to his feet and unzipped the hoody, staring at the bruise that took up his entire abdomen. "Now, it's your turn," he said softly.
Jackson swallowed. "I can't…" He frowned when Derek growled in warning. "Explain it," he snapped. "I don't know what happened or how it happened. I…I was talking to Erica, telling her she got me with a cheap shot. The next thing I know, there's pain. So much pain." Pulling back, Jackson began pacing. "And the fear. She was so scared."
"You mentioned someone killing her," Derek said, placing a hand on Jackson's shoulder.
"I don't understand it," Jackson said and sighed, sinking onto the bed. He felt exhausted. "I don't sense any kind of threat."
"The only time you felt a threat was with that pack and that's because they were, to…" Derek stumbled over his words for a moment. "…the alpha and the alpha's pack." He stuck his tongue out, like there was a foul taste on it.
Jackson noticed. "So, whatever killed her, isn't threatening you or your pack." He rubbed his eyes and then his neck.
"Dick move, bro," Isaac said from his room. "You know you're part of the pack."
Jackson chuckled and winced, holding his abdomen. He stood up, leaning heavily on a post for the bed. "I felt it," he said and looked at Derek, who was keeping his distance. "I felt…everything. I felt its claws digging in my guts, ripping my intestines—"
"Jesus Christ, we get it! You felt it," Isaac stated and Jackson heard him shudder in disgust.
"I felt her fear. I felt her desperate desire to escape." Jackson winced and closed his eyes. He pursed his lips, wanting to say the words, but knew that once they were out, he couldn't take them back. Saying the words made it real, like she couldn't be saved.. "I felt her…" He was shaking again. "It doesn't matter."
"Hmm, sounds like it does," Derek said simply. "So why her? Why did you feel her so clearly?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because my life hasn't been fucked up enough lately," Jackson snapped and glared at Derek. "I'm sorry she was in pain. I'm sure that was so difficult for you."
"It was, actually," Derek said, his eyes flashing red. "You were in pain."
"Oh, get off it, Hale. I'm not in the mood for your possessive bullshit." Jackson doubled over, closing his eyes as the pain started. He could feel blood trickling into his mouth.
"Looks like that's exactly what you need," Peter said from the doorway, eating an apple. He smirked when Jackson glared at him. "Take it from me, pup. You need your mate, more than you think."
Jackson wiped his mouth, removing the blood. "What are you talking about?"
Peter's eyes went to Derek and saw something that made him shrug. "Don't push away those that care about you," he said eventually and took another bite of the apple, grinning as he disappeared from the doorway.
"You should get some more sleep," Derek said as he went to the door. "I'll keep watch tonight."
"No, I need to patrol," Jackson said and forced himself upright. He sank to his knees, his claws digging into the wood of the bed.
"Scott and Boyd are patrolling tonight," Derek told him and flipped off the overhead light. "Go to bed."
Jackson glared at Derek's back, unable to believe him. He would go to bed, if he could move without feeling like he was being stabbed by thirty-four hundred knives in his stomach. Instead of saying that, Jackson just stayed where he was and closed his eyes. He could only hope that he would feel better in the morning.
Jackson opened his eyes, staring at the floor of the bedroom. He got to his feet when he heard only one heartbeat in the loft. He found Derek on the sofa, reading A Christmas Carol. He had no idea where the others were, but he didn't want to be in there. He knew he should be out looking for the cave.
"Not even a 'good morning,' then?" Derek asked as Jackson opened the door.
"Stroke your own ego," Jackson snapped and glared over his shoulder. "There's a girl out there that's in trouble."
"She's dead, Jackson," Derek said and went back to his book.
"You don't know that."
Derek tossed the newspaper to him and Jackson saw the headline: Highschool Student Found Dead. Frowning, Jackson read the story. He didn't know her, but when he saw the picture, he knew it was her. She was fifteen, barely two years younger than he was.
Jackson felt his anger boil over, his claws tearing the newspaper. He threw it down. "Fuck!" Turning, Jackson walked out of the loft. He growled when he was caught around the waist. "Fuck off, Derek!"
"No. You're not doing anything stupid."
Jackson snarled and turned, wrapping his hand around Derek's throat and throwing him onto the ground. Derek easily shoved him back and his back met a wall. Derek's eyes were red and Jackson knew his were blue, glaring at the jerk that wouldn't let him run off some frustration.
"Enough," Derek said gently, the red dying.
Jackson swallowed thickly and felt the anger slowly leave his body. He lowered his head, trying to hide the tears, forgetting that Derek could smell them and the sadness surrounding him. "It was her," he mumbled, biting his lower lip to stop it quivering.
"I'm sorry, Jackson," Derek said and Jackson let the arms wrap around him. "I'm sorry."
Jackson nodded and pulled back, letting Derek's hands slide to his hips. He wiped his eyes with the sleeves of the hoody, not caring that he smeared the blood on the left side over it. He stared down at the floor, tightening his jaw, trying to force the lump in his throat down and release the tightness in his chest.
"I wanna go to her funeral," Jackson said and looked up. Derek frowned down at him. "I could at least say sorry to her, before she's buried."
Jackson knew Derek didn't understand, knew he could never understand. Just as Jackson knew he wouldn't understand if Derek had been one to feel her last moments alive. The tightness in his chest worsened and he pressed his forehead to Derek's chest.
"I'll go with you," Derek murmured, kissing the top of Jackson's head.
"Thank you."
"But after that, we need to talk."
"Okay."
"And what did I say about that word?"
"I'm sorry." Jackson pulled back and wiped his eyes again. "I hate emotions. I hate what they do. And I fucking loathe feeling."
Shaking his head, Jackson unzipped the hoody, going to Derek's bedroom. He ignored the comfort Derek tried sending him. His life had been nothing but hell for the last two months. The four months before that had been great. He didn't feel and he didn't have emotions. Now, he had to feel some poor girl's fear, pain and mental anguish as she's carved up by a monster.
Under the spray of the shower, Jackson let his head hang and he let the tears slip out. I should have done something, he kept telling himself, even though there was nothing he could do. The pain he felt had him crippled and unable to think, let alone act.
Eyes hardening, Jackson straightened and washed. He needed a suit for the funeral. He had plenty at home, but then his mind went to his parents. He closed his eyes and hung his head again. "Fuck," he whispered.
Turning off the shower, Jackson stepped out and wrapped a towel around his hips, ignoring Derek, who was staring down at the floor, resting against the counter. He dried off in the bedroom and dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved v-neck. He placed a hand over his abdomen and snatched it away as the pain began spreading.
Shaking his head, he left the bedroom and stood in front of his window, staring down at the pavement. He winced, gritting his teeth. The funeral was being held the day after tomorrow, giving the mortician plenty of time to fix her up. Still, he knew it would be a closed casket event.
Jackson growled quietly when Derek stood beside him. "Why aren't you with the others?"
Derek looked at Jackson blankly. "I have them trying to trail her scent. I wasn't leaving you alone here, so you could run off and get hurt."
"I don't need you babysitting me," Jackson grounded out, resting a hand on the wall. "I just need time to think without this…god forsaken pain!"
Derek's shoulders shook for a moment, before he crossed his arms and glared out the window. After a few minutes, he grabbed Jackson's shoulders and pressed their lips together. Jackson stared at Derek, eyes wide and shoulders impossibly tensed as he realized what was happening.
"The Stone Eagle cave!" Jackson declared as he pulled back from Derek. "I knew I'd seen that cave before."
Jackson went into the bedroom and pulled on his shoes, jogging out to the living area. Derek turned to him, trying to keep his face blank. "That's what you were thinking about? I kiss you for the first time and you're thinking about where some girl was murdered?"
Tilting his head, Jackson frowned. "What else would I be thinking about?"
"Me," Derek growled.
"I think about you all the time, Derek," Jackson said and took a step back when Derek glared at him. "I don't… I don't know what to say here."
Derek closed his eyes and let the tension out of his shoulders. "You don't have to say anything, Jackson," he said and sighed. "I know you think about me. But you don't think about me the same way I think about you."
Jackson's eyes widened when he felt some emotion slither into him. It released warmth and made his entire body tingle. He stared at Derek and found he needed the alpha on him, in him, around him. It made his knees weak as Derek's eyes trailed over his body. There was a need to hold him, a need to soothe and protect him. Jackson doubted he would ever understand it.
But when Derek stepped towards him, Jackson stepped back and slammed the link shut. "What the flying fuck was that?!" he demanded, his heart still racing in his chest as the feelings lingered.
"Lust, love and our wolves meeting in the middle," Derek explained with a shrug. "It came out too strongly and I'm sorry."
Jackson's hands shook as he used the wall to keep him steady. He still couldn't fully feel his knees. "You feel all of that when you look at me?"
"You don't know love, lust or desire," Derek said and pulled out his cell phone. "You said it was the Stone Eagle cave?"
"Y-Yeah. It's…um…" Jackson shook his head, trying to clear it.
"It's okay, I've stopped sending those through," Derek said, his thumbs tapping on the screen.
"Doesn't mean it isn't lingering," Jackson muttered and closed his eyes, tilting his head back. Inhaling deeply, he leveled his head and found Derek staring at him. "It's twenty minutes from the boarder of the town. We used to party there a few years ago."
Derek's eyes dropped to Jackson's throat for a moment, before he nodded and sent the text. "You should probably think about getting a suit from home to attend the funeral," Derek said and left the loft when his phone chimed.
"Go to hell. I'm coming with you."
Derek looked at Jackson's abdomen and shook his head. "No, you're not. I can't have you going into a fit of pain if the thing shows up."
"Try and stop me," Jackson said, pushing off the wall, striding up to Derek. "I know what it looks and smells like."
Derek ran his fingertips along Jackson's hairline, his eyes soft. "And that's why you're going to be here with Stiles, researching."
Jackson clenched his jaw as Derek's thumb ran over his lips. He wanted to argue the point, but he also knew Derek was right, which just infuriated him. He lowered his eyes and stepped back, nodding. Finding out whatever it was and how to stop it was better than doing nothing.
"There's a room on the ground floor that has materials you can start reading," Derek said softly and left.
Jackson and Stiles found the room Derek was talking about. There were dozens of boxes, all filled with papers and books on everything Derek could think of, apparently. There were demons, angels, spirits, Native American, Irish, Welsh, Japanese, Australian and Russian folklore and fairies. Jackson couldn't believe how much there was and not one of the boxes had anything written on it.
After hours of searching through the boxes, the others returned and helped out. Jackson had tried explaining what the creature looked like, but he knew the smell more than anything. Cold, lifeless, rotting meat and fresh blood. That didn't help them any, but Jackson knew if he ever smelled it again, he would recognize it.
Derek and Peter had joined them, while the others showered and had something to eat. Jackson stared at Stiles, who was typing furiously at a laptop. Jackson shook his head and stood behind him. "It works much better if you don't slam your fingers on the keys," he said.
"I'm used to a mechanical keyboard, sue me," Stiles muttered, staring at the pictures of demons on some website. "Any of these look familiar?"
Jackson shook his head. "It wasn't a demon," he said. He went to say more, but glanced at Derek and closed his mouth.
He couldn't explain that he felt a kinship with the creature. Over the girl's fear and the pain, Jackson felt like he understood what it was doing. He didn't agree with its motives, but he understood the loneliness and the wanting to be normal. There was something else that resonated deeply with Jackson, as well. The need to survive.
Running his tongue along his lower lip, Jackson frowned as he tasted something there. He wasn't going to complain, as it tasted nice and left him yearning for more, but it was pushed to the back of his mind. He started rummaging through the boxes, trying to remember where he saw the book he needed.
Jackson froze as terror ripped through him. He spun around, staring at the door to the room. He winced as his wrists throbbed with pain. There was something on them that was too tight. His eyes widened when he saw the entrance to Stone Eagle cave.
The victim was male. Jackson's heart thudded in his chest, desperation clawing at him as he tried to loosen the shackles that bound his arms above his head. He could hear it growing closer, an almost demonic growl being emitted. Jackson's gut clenched in fear and the desperate struggle stopped.
It was in front of him, rotted teeth revealed through a snarl.
Jackson screamed as the pain surged through him, making him hyperaware of the coolness of the cave. This time, the creature didn't rip out the innards and sift through them. Instead, he shoved claws into the chest and Jackson gasped, trying to breathe around the blood, trying in vain to get away from the pain.
And suddenly, his vision was filled with Derek's face. Concerned hazel green eyes probing his, his voice soothing and comforting, slowly being heard. "Come back, Jackson."
There was a snap and Jackson found himself on the floor of the room, surrounded by books. Derek was over him, staring into his eyes and wiping away the tears.
"It's okay," Derek murmured, running his fingers around Jackson's ear. "Stilinski, there's going to be another body tomorrow."
Jackson shook his head, trying to get his throat to work. "No," he croaked, not taking his eyes from Derek's. "This one wasn't food. Tonight."
"I'll let Dad know," Stiles said, staring at Jackson. "Are you okay?"
Jackson blinked and pushed Derek away, sitting on the ground. "Of course. I'm fine."
Stiles frowned. "I think it might be time to have another talking with Mister Hunter," he said and pulled out his cell phone, leaving the room.
"You didn't mention that it ate the body," Derek said, gazing at Jackson.
"Sorry if I didn't want to think about that." Jackson flinched. "It took the liver and kidneys first. Then there was chunks of flesh taken, for its stores."
Peter whistled, making Derek and Jackson look at him. He turned the book around, showing the page he was reading. "I think we've found our beastie."
End Chapter.
Thanks for reading.