~Hear Me Cry~

By: Aerys Krystie.

Peace

Jackson glared out the window, waiting for Chris Argent to arrive. He was almost certain that Sheriff Stilinski wouldn't mention a non-existent at work, as that would have him on sick leave. The only other person that knew, outside of the pack and Scott and Stiles, was the Argents. Jackson didn't want to jump to conclusions, though. He was going to ask as nicely as possible.

Derek had tried calming him down, but he just glared at the alpha. His pack was in danger. The chill on his spine was getting worse. The threat was growing closer by the minute. In at least a day, whoever or whatever it was would be in Beacon Hills. It wouldn't take them long to discover Jackson, especially if they knew who they were seeking. He wasn't going to lose anyone, not ever again.

Chris Argent finally arrived a little after five. He went up to the loft and knocked on the door. Derek opened it and once the hunter was inside, Jackson was on him, hand around his throat. His eyes sparkled blue as he glared at Chris, who stabbed a knife into his side.

"I'm a non-existent, remember?" Jackson's eyes widened and he glared at Derek. "Touch me and I'll kill him."

Chris gasped and struggled to loosen Jackson's grip. "What…kinda…threat…is…that?"

Derek narrowed his eyes and advanced on Jackson, crying out when Jackson removed a second knife Chris had and threw it at his thigh. He tried to ignore the burning from the silver. "How the fuck are you such a badass now?" he demanded and ripped the knife from the muscle.

Ignoring Derek, Jackson turned his eyes to Chris. "I want answers. Who have you told about me?" Chris gasped raggedly and Jackson squeezed a little harder, lifting his feet off the floor. "Who have you told about me?"

Chris's eyes began to flutter and Jackson growled, throwing him into the wall beneath his usual window. Derek's leg healed enough for him to grab Jackson around the waist, but when Jackson turned on him, he let him go. He knew he should trust Jackson enough to not torture or kill Chris.

The hunter groaned and rolled his right shoulder. "I sent a sample of your blood to a cousin," he said. "I didn't say what it was from, but we know about non-existents."

Sighing, Jackson turned to Derek and bit his wrist, smearing his blood onto the stab wound. Derek frowned down at it, but joined Jackson crouching in front of Chris. "You sent a sample of his blood to other hunters?"

Chris was staring at Derek's thigh. "I had to be sure. His blood was still fresh and I… Well, I've never known one to exist, outside of stories from dusty books," he said and looked between the pair.

"Considering you said the last non-existent was around a thousand years ago, I can see why you've never met one," Jackson stated and leaned forward. "That cousin of yours has sent someone to collect me."

"Leon would never send someone to 'collect' you, Jackson. He's probably coming to see if you're real." Chris winced as he sat up and sighed.

"I had to watch two people be tortured, before one was eaten and the other dumped by a wendigo over the last two days. I know when me or my pack is being hunted." Jackson stood, a clawed hand gripping Chris's shoulder and pulling him up. "You better tell him to turn around."

Chris had to shuffle his feet when he's dropped to keep his balance. He pulled his phone and called his cousin, asking where he was. Derek stared at Jackson, as though trying to read his mind. Jackson looked at him, as though daring him to ask the question on his mind.

After a few minutes, Chris hung up and sighed. "He said he'll turn around, if he can meet you."

Jackson tilted his head, eyes unblinking. Suddenly, a feral grin spread across his face. "This is gonna be fun," he said and went to the door. "He'll be here tomorrow. Pick me up at noon. We'll do lunch at yours."

Chris nodded and left the loft, clutching his injured shoulder. Jackson stood at the window and watched him drive away. Jackson tilted his head and turned to Derek, staring at him with hard eyes. The alpha returned the look, waiting for Jackson to speak.

"I know you don't like my non-existent state, Derek," he said as he stepped closer. "But it gets results. Don't get in my way again."

Derek sighed and shook his head. "I can't do that, Jackson. You're part of my pack, which means that Chris could declare war on us, if he wanted. He came here, even though he didn't have to. You attacked him on sight."

"That idiot told someone about me!" Jackson rubbed the center of his back, the chill was getting worse. "And that someone is a threat, not just to me, but to you, as well."

"I believe the words you used were 'my pack.' I could be wrong. After all, my mate did just stab me with a silver knife!" Derek glared at Jackson, who simply shrugged.

"Not my fault you didn't take me seriously," Jackson said simply and removed the knife from his side. He looked at it and decided it was decent. "It's a good knife." He lowered his eyes. "I don't like hurting you, Derek."

"Jackson," Derek said and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Then don't do it. That's the only time you get to hurt me, since I killed you."

Jackson frowned as the hand was removed and he heard Derek's belt being undone. He raised an eyebrow as the jeans were dropped, looking up the muscular legs. He could see his blood smeared on Derek's leg, but the wound was healed and there wasn't a scar.

"Touch me," Jackson said and raised his shirt, running his fingers over his side. Derek's hand was on his neck and he felt the scar from the knife. "That's the second time he's scarred me."

Derek's hand moved and was replaced with his mouth. Jackson's hand went back, tangling in Derek's thick mass of hair. Derek's free hand slipped under the shirt Jackson wore, thumb running along his spine. Jackson felt his body reacting and he wanted more. The thumb grazed over the chill and paused there.

Derek pulled back and frowned. "Why is that cold?"

"You can feel it?"

"Yeah," Derek said and lifted the shirt, staring at the flawless skin around the chill. Above and below were scars from tests performed. "What is it?"

"The warning of a threat approaching," Jackson said and looked over his shoulder. "I probably should've asked Chris about non-existents going into a victim's head."

Derek ran his hand over the chill on Jackson's spine. "I know why," he said and Jackson frowned at him. "You're a protector. You always have been, except your fear usually held you back. Without your emotions, you were able to finally open your potential. As soon as you learned how to care, you started caring about victims."

Jackson lowered his eyes and straightened his head. "Mind if I ask a question?"

Derek nuzzled Jackson's neck. "No."

"Why the fuck do you want the old me back?"

Jackson used one of Derek's shirts for the meeting with Chris's cousin, Leon. He had bled enough on his own clothing, but he figured he could grab more from his parents' place. He also wanted to show them that he wasn't a complete mess, as he had been a few months ago.

Chris didn't bother to get out of his car. He simply honked the horn and Jackson glared at him from the window, before he turned around. The pack was staring at him, as though all of them were asking the same question. Are you sure you don't want us with you? Jackson couldn't live with himself if any of them got hurt because someone was after him.

Giving them a hit of the old Jackson Whittemore, he smirked as he left the loft and willingly got into the car of a hunter. Chris glared at him, but made no comment and drove back to his house. Jackson tried to ignore the way the chill deepened. It was almost painful.

"I heard you were responsible for the kidnapped people being returned," Chris said absently, but Jackson knew he wanted to know how or why. "Good job."

"I'm still gonna kill your cousin," Jackson said, internally smirking when Chris glared at him. "If he so much as thinks of testing my non-existent abilities, he'll die choking on his trachea."

Chris stopped at a red light and stared at Jackson. "Jesus Christ," he muttered and shook his head. "You are definitely not the kid from before."

"Your cousin is putting my mate and my pack in danger," Jackson said abruptly, setting his jaw. "I don't know what he's up to, but I don't like it."

Chris frowned at Jackson. "How do you know that? You didn't tell me how you knew I'd told someone about you, either."

Jackson stared at Chris, a lazy smile on his face. "I'm Batman," he said and laughed when Chris just rolled his eyes. "You think I'd tell a hunter anything about me? The pissant details you have on non-existents is more than enough."

"Last I heard, you wanted to know all those pissant details," Chris said as he turned onto his street.

"That's before I was scented. Now, I don't give a shit. My mate is being threatened and I don't like it."

"I don't think Leon is going to do anything to you," Chris said and Jackson shrugged.

Once the car stopped, Jackson slipped out and went to the door. He stopped when Chris called his name. He opened the garage and Jackson stepped inside. The door was closed and he caught the arrow that was fired at him. He snapped it in two, glaring into the shadows of the garage.

"Don't kill him, yet," Chris said as he placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder.

Leon stepped into the light, narrowing his eyes at Jackson. "So, you're the one with the blood that lives outside the body?" he asked, lowering his bow.

"And you're the hunter that's going to die today," Jackson said with a smile. He could already feel Chris tensing up. "He shot at me!"

"And if you're what I think you are, it wouldn't have been a problem," Leon said and sat down, an arrow in his hand, ready to be nocked and fired. "When Chris sent me that blood sample, I thought I was seeing things. It was on a tissue, so it should have definitely oxidized. But there it was, still as fresh as ever."

"Mm," Jackson hummed and walked around the garage. "So you decided to come to town to…what, exactly? Collect a fresher sample or just take me by force?"

"I had no intention of causing harm." Jackson held up the broken arrow and Leon shifted on the seat. "Well, that was just to make sure."

Jackson stared at the side of the garage that held tools on it. "Is now a good time to mention I'm a werewolf?"

Leon's eyes widened. "What? Non-existents can't be werewolves." He looked at Chris, clearly expecting an explanation.

"They also can't feel anything," Jackson went on and picked up a spanner, testing the weight in his hand. He put it back and got the wrench. "But I do and that's not all."

"Oh? And what else can you do?"

"I can hear the crackle of the recorder you're wearing." Jackson threw the wrench at Leon and the device sizzled, forcing the man to remove it. "This non-existent also killed an alpha and two betas. I want to suggest that you leave and don't come back, but…"

Chris sighed quietly. "You fired on him for no reason," he filled in.

"What? You said he attacked you yesterday, unprovoked," Leon said and glared at Jackson.

"He gave me this scar," Jackson said, pulling down the collar of the shirt to show the bullet scar. "Unprovoked, also."

"Nice shot. How about the scars on your throat?" Leon asked and Jackson tilted his head.

"Those are from my mate." Jackson smirked and leaned over the workbench. "Now, if he does this," he said and ran his fingers over his throat, "to his mate, imagine what he'd do to a hunter that fired a silver arrow at his mate."

"You did tell me that you only wanted to talk to him, Leon," Chris said as his cousin continued to stare at the scars on Jackson's throat. "You didn't even give me time to ask him if he would be okay with that."

"Oh and the answer to that is no." Jackson smiled.

"His blood could cure the world of all diseases," Leon whispered to Chris, as though he forgot that Jackson was a werewolf and could hear him. "Think about it! A world free from cancer, free fro—"

Chris was shaking his head. "Gerard tried that with him, as well. He's dead. That's all you came here for? To try and profit off a seventeen year old?"

Jackson gazed at Chris, surprised at the disgust in his voice and scent. "Can I kill him now? I'm gonna kill him now."

"Wait," Chris said and Jackson growled, pouting at the workbench. "Do you have cancer?"

"An inoperable tumor. So, killing me would be doing me a fav—"

Jackson's hand shot out and crushed Leon's trachea. Jackson watched as he struggled to breathe, falling to the ground. "Told you he would choke on his trachea." He raised an eyebrow. "I thought it would be quicker."

Chris glared at Jackson. "Where am I supposed to put his body?" he demanded, stepping around his struggling cousin. "Allison was meant to meet him after school!"

Jackson rolled his eyes. "Were you always this dramatic? Back your car up, we'll roll his cancer-ridden ass into the trunk and bury him in the woods. Tell Allison that he had an emergency at home and he regretfully had to leave this afternoon." He shook his head. "Are human brains only for show or something? Jesus Christ, just die!" He glared down at Leon, who was still gasping for air, his face changing color.

Chris glanced between Jackson's angry face and the purple face of his cousin. "I just let you kill a hunter," he said and sighed.

"Did you wanna deal with Derek if I was kidnapped?" Jackson asked, sitting on the workbench, swinging his legs over Leon. "I don't think you'd like him angry."

"I—I can't, right now," Chris said and walked through a door into the kitchen. "I'm getting coffee."

"Okay," Jackson said jovially, gazing down at Leon. "You know, if you had just asked of me, I would have cured your tumor." He tilted his head, wondering how he could have done that. He didn't know, but if it was asked of him, he would've found a way.

A few minutes later, Leon finally went silent and there was no more struggling. Chris stood in the door, staring at Jackson. "You're really fucking scary now," he said and Jackson looked at him, eyes glittering blue for a moment. "The kanima stuff was… This? This is way more messed up."

Jackson caught the keys Chris tossed him and jumped over Leon's body. He opened the garage and backed the car up, popping the trunk. He easily wrapped Leon's body in some garbage bags, making sure they were sealed tight with duct tape and tossed the body into the trunk, while Chris grabbed the shovels.

With everything packed, Jackson drove Chris to an entrance for the woods. They waited until a group of friends had loaded up and left, a couple of them glancing at them questioningly. Jackson rolled his eyes and settled in the seat, closing his eyes. He heard cars start and leave, before he rolled down the window and stuck his head out, sniffing the wind.

"We're clear for the moment. There's a group about…six and a half miles away. We have to move."

Chris carried the shovels while Jackson slung the corpse over his shoulder. They moved away from the group that was in the woods, finding somewhere far from the beaten track. They dug, making sure the hole was at least four feet deep. The last thing they needed was a shallow grave unearthing their dirty little secret. Jackson dropped the body down and they quickly covered it.

Once they were finished, Chris gazed at Jackson. "Did you mean what you said to him? If he had asked, you would've cured him?"

Jackson jumped on the grave, compacting the dirt. "Of course," he answered. "If my blood wants to exist and cure the world, who am I to stand in its way?" He finished compacting the dirt and looked at Chris. "Derek doesn't hear about this."

"You think I'm that crazy?" Chris shook his head. "But give me your number. I might need help with other bodies in the future."

Jackson grinned and tossed the keys to Chris. "I'm showering at yours. Derek will definitely smell the dead body on me. Oh and I don't have a phone anymore. But just call Derek. Codeword is 'Pringles.'"

Back at the loft, Jackson rubbed his spine. The chill was gone, which meant Leon was definitely the threat or Chris was, but since they buried a body together, they were fine. Shaking his head, Jackson flopped onto the sofa, across the laps of Boyd and Erica.

"Don't mean to cock-block," Jackson said and watched the cooking show that was on the TV. He sat up suddenly and looked around the loft. "Where's Derek?"

"He went out to patrol the woods," Boyd said, shifting uncomfortably as Jackson moved around on his lap. "His uncle said he saw something suspicious."

"Oh, good," Jackson said and laid down again. "Hey, watch the hands, Reyes."

"You sat on them," Erica said and yanked her hands from under Jackson. "How did the meeting go with the cousin of Chris?"

Jackson smirked. "Great," he purred, stretching his legs. "Had a bit of a breathing problem, though."

"Did you wash your clothes over there?" Boyd asked, sniffing at Jackson. "That isn't our powder."

"Oh, yeah. I had to have them washed. Bastard decided to throw his coffee at me when I refused to give up a sample of my blood. Somehow, he thought that would make me reconsider." Jackson smiled as he watched the roast being pulled from the oven.

Jackson twirled a lock of Erica's hair through his fingers, enjoying the feel of the silky strands. He frowned and stared at his hand. He had felt her hands under him, as well. He rolled off them and ran to the kitchen, grabbing a knife. He heard Boyd shouting at him to stop, but he had already stabbed the blade through his hand by the time both of them had stood.

Relief flooded through Jackson and he let his hand bleed over the sink. He couldn't feel the pain. He removed the knife and the wound healed over, the scar now bigger than usual. That was going to be fun to explain to Derek, if he noticed.

"What the hell, Jackson?" Boyd demanded and took the knife from Jackson.

"I could feel you," Jackson said and looked in Boyd's furious eyes. "I could feel Erica's hair and her hands under me. I could feel your legs under my hips."

Erica tilted her head and stepped up to Jackson, hugging him. His eyes widened as he felt her arms around him and the warmth of her body spread through his. His hand shot out and he could feel the texture of Boyd's skin on his fingers. He had no idea what that meant.

"We're pack, Jackson," Erica said and released him. "You stab yourself again and I'll tell Derek."

Jackson stared between the pair, trying to understand what he was hearing. He'd been pack for months, even if he couldn't feel anything. He didn't know why he was just starting to feel anything from the rest of them. He hadn't felt Isaac's hands on him, only a few weeks ago.

"You might finally be feeling everything now," Boyd said quietly and placed a hand on Jackson's shoulder. He could feel the warmth spread through his body and stared at the hand.

"I don't understand," Jackson said and stepped back. He frowned and hugged both Erica and Boyd, feeling a smile spread over his face. "It feels nice."

Jackson opened his eyes when Isaac came out of his room, chemistry textbook in hand. He frowned when he saw the group hug happening, but shrugged and dropped the book on the table. He hugged Jackson, who shuddered with something akin to delight. Somehow, it felt right.

Somehow, Jackson had no idea how, but the four of them ended up on the floor in front of the sofa. They were tangled around each other. Erica and Boyd were definitely more interested in cuddling each other, but Boyd's head rested on Jackson's thigh. Isaac was curled up to his side and Jackson felt comfortable. At one stage, he was certain this kind of cuddling would repulse him.

Derek's return made them look up, but they didn't move. Derek stared at them, as though he was confused. It lasted only a moment, before his eyes dropped to the hand that was petting Erica's hair and moved to the one that was stroking Isaac's neck. Jackson got that feeling of warmth, pride and something else that made him feel like he was home.

That feeling also lasted only a moment, before Derek asked, "How did the meeting go?"

Jackson nuzzled into Isaac's hair, mostly to hide the smirk. "Great," he said and looked at Derek again. "He had a bit of a breathing problem, though. I think there's something seriously wrong with Chris's extended family."

"On a first name basis with the hunters?" Derek asked as he stood behind the sofa, staring at the top of Jackson's head.

"Oh, he and I had a long discussion about what happened yesterday. We decided that it was payback." Jackson tilted his head back. "The crazy uncle saw something suspicious in the woods?"

"Yeah," Derek said, voice monotone. "He found some strange footprints. There wasn't any strange scents around and you haven't felt a threat, except for another hunter."

Jackson shifted slightly and found that his spine was normal. The chill was definitely gone, but he wasn't sure if that was because Leon was a threat to him and his pack or if it was because he was a threat in general. He hadn't felt the wendigo as a threat, either. The only reason they took care of it was because it was killing people.

"Isaac, you need to finish your homework," Jackson said, giving his hair a gentle tug.

Groaning in disappointment, Isaac released his hold on Jackson and went to the table. Figuring that Jackson wanted to get up, Erica and Boyd moved their bodies onto the sofa. Jackson stood and went to the window, staring out it, opening channels he didn't know existed in his head.

"Fuck!" he hissed and slammed the channels shut, holding his head. He tried to force the pounding to disappear.

Jackson forced his eyes to open and immediately regretted it, turning from the window. He wanted to slump to the floor and curl up, but his body refused to go down. He couldn't feel Derek holding him up. The only thing he felt was the agony in his head.

Voices screamed painfully at him and Jackson reached out, trying to find something stable to lean on. He could vaguely feel the leather in his fingers and the taste of Derek on his tongue. He idea of putting pressure on his sinuses to breathe was just not an option.

After what seemed like an eternity and a half, the pain finally subsided enough for Jackson to half-open his eyes. He was clutching Derek's jacket, holding him close as though his life depended on it. The pack was staring at him, pain and worry etched in their faces. He had no idea what happened, but knew he needed to speak with Lydia about it.

"What happened?"

Jackson had no idea who asked the question. His ears felt blocked and his head was almost fuzzy. "Lydia," he whispered, pressing into Derek more. "Tomorrow." And he passed out.

Eyes opening slowly, Jackson realized he was in Derek's bed. He was curled into a ball, holding his head like a frightened child. He inhaled deeply through his nose and caught the gentle scent of Lydia's perfume and shampoo. He lowered his arms and found her sitting in a chair beside the bed. She was flipping through a magazine, completely bored. There was something around his eyes that he couldn't be bothered removing.

"Well, I guess that's why we were compatible for a little bit," Lydia said without raising her eyes. "From the vague description I got from Alpha Idiot out there…" She glared at the door and Derek growled in warning. "…you opened too much too soon."

Jackson frowned, thinking back when Chris told him about the jogger that went missing. He had opened all his senses for that, too. He wasn't slammed with everything, but he hadn't felt the connection of the pack and his wolf, either. It seemed that scenting Derek had messed with him more than he thought.

Lydia went back to the magazine. "You know what I mean, Jackson. You tried to find a threat, but you found the pain of thousands of people in the town." She finally glanced at him and frowned, moving forward. She touched his lower lashes, frown deepening. "You cried blood. Your mind was violated."

Jackson frowned and touched the blood on his lower lashes. Like always, his blood refused to die once it left his body. He looked at Lydia, wanting more explanations for what he could do to prevent it getting worse. He didn't want to cry blood while on the streets. He knew that would have people asking questions, questions he, his mate and their pack didn't need and couldn't answer.

"The mind has several doors that are usually closed, especially to those that don't believe in that sort of thing," Lydia said, her eyes running over an article. "You opened all of them, trying to find a threat that doesn't exist, yet." She looked up, watching as Jackson used the shirt to wipe away the blood. "Like being a werewolf, you can't jump straight into the deep end and expect to come out alive."

Jackson stared at her. "A little too on the nose there, Lydia," he said and finished wiping his eyes. "So how do I open the door to sense threats to the general population?"

Lydia smiled and closed the magazine, tossing it onto the nightstand. "That's more like it." She brought the chair closer to the bed. "You do it the exact way you did it before. But," she hissed when Jackson frowned at her. "You don't open all of them. You open one at a time and find the door you want."

The frown disappeared from Jackson's face as he stared at her blankly, trying to understand what he was hearing. He had felt the victims of the wendigo without doing anything like that. They had just…forced their way into his head and he wasn't sure why that was.

"Derek said that you felt the victims of the wendigo," Lydia said as she leaned back, crossing her legs. "That's the door you need to open, so you don't feel what they're going through when they force their way in. It'll be weird the first few weeks, but you'll get used to the feeling of something else in your mind."

"To all threats or just the supernatural ones?" Jackson asked and closed his eyes, trying to find the doors he opened before and his mind recoiled.

"I don't know," Lydia said honestly. "I get feelings. You seem to see and feel everything through the eyes of the victim, which I recommend you work on. You'll be useless to your pack if you can't get any details out to them."

"My…" Jackson frowned and opened his eyes. "My mind hurts."

"You were violated yesterday," Lydia explained and checked her perfect manicure. "Psychic pain is probably the one thing werewolf healing can't touch."

"Werewolf healing is only good for physical pain," Jackson muttered and stared at the ceiling of the room. "I don't think I ever want to feel that pain again."

"Too bad, Jackson. You're a protector of the town, now. You need to open your mind, so you can protect the town. I don't suggest you do it right away, though. Wait for your mind to heal and then start opening doors. But one at a time." Lydia stood and pressed her hand to Jackson's forearm. "Good luck."

Jackson smiled, not surprised when he heard Derek talking to Lydia, while Isaac slipped into the room. Raising his head, Jackson's smile stayed in place as Isaac gazed at him, almost like a kicked puppy. Not caring if Derek didn't want it, he held his hand out to Isaac, who jogged onto the bed and nestled into Jackson's side.

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked.

"My mind is a little bruised, but I'm fine," Jackson answered, running his fingers through Isaac's hair.

It wasn't long after that that Erica and Boyd joined him on the bed. Their scents mingled so well with his and Derek's that it stopped the gentle throbbing in his head. For a while, he could ignore the fact that he had managed to violate his mind. For a while, he could forget that he was a non-existent and could live as a werewolf, surrounded by pack that cared deeply for him.

He could feel Erica's fingers brushing over the exit scar of the arrow. Isaac's fingers brushed over the knife scar from Peter's curiosity. He could feel Boyd's neck under his fingers as he gently massaged the muscles there. It felt good, but not complete.

Jackson was about to let his eyes close, fall asleep as the others had, but he stopped and looked at the doorway. Derek stood there, watching him, eyes soft. "Welcome home," he whispered.

Warmth tried to fill him, but Jackson winced and shut down the link. He wasn't ready to deal with that in his head. Derek came up to the bed, eyes apologizing and Jackson just smiled. For just a moment, he didn't need Derek's reassurance that he would be all right. For just a moment, he didn't need his alpha to tell him anything. For just a moment, he didn't need Derek to calm him. For just a moment, he felt complete with Derek's hand on his ankle. For just a moment, the world was complete.

For just a brief, fleeting moment in their lives, there was peace.

End Chapter.

Thanks for reading.