~Hear Me Cry~

By: Aerys Krystie.

Compassion

Jackson stared at Derek, chest constricting as Derek thought of every painful moment he could. He tried to resist the pain, tried to ignore the way his throat dried out. He tried to disregard the tears that were spilling down his cheeks. He wanted to close his eyes and disappear into his head, but knew that would make it worse.

Derek gasped, stepping away from him. Jackson stared ahead, trying to calm the trembling of his body. He remembered what sadness was, but he was grateful to have forgotten about it. Memories that didn't bother him before, suddenly had him closing his eyes and ducking his head.

Not caring that he wasn't considered pack was flipped around. Now, he wanted nothing more than to prove that he was pack. He wanted to know what he had done wrong. The pain of his biological parents being dead made him physically recoil.

The tingling on his neck died off and Jackson straightened, looking at Derek. He touched his cheeks, feeling the tears. The problem was he couldn't remember what caused them. Derek had been near him and he was overwhelmed by an emotion, but now that it was gone, he felt normal again.

Clearing his throat, Derek turned around and Jackson tilted his head. Whatever happened had affected him just as much. Peter had said something about Derek sharing his emotions, to retrain Jackson on them. He thought they would start with one that wouldn't cause pain.

"Anything lingering?"

"No."

Derek nodded and sat down on his bed. He ran his hands through his hair, his body shaking as much as Jackson's had been while they were connected. Looking up, Derek stared at him and Jackson stared back. He didn't know what Derek wanted. The expression on his face was foreign.

"I think we should call it a day here. I don't think I can go through that again…right now."

"Okay." Jackson turned and left the bedroom. He paused when Derek called after him.

"Tomorrow night, I want you back here."

"Okay."

Jackson left the loft and made his way down the stairs. He paused and placed a hand on his chest, almost certain he felt something thump in there. Shrugging, he continued on his way and slipped into his car. He could feel Derek watching him from the window.

Parking in the driveway of his house, Jackson turned off his car and slipped out. He didn't know if Derek wanted him at the pack meeting that night, but assumed he was meant to show up. Derek did see him as pack, otherwise he wouldn't be trying to retrain him on emotions.

Going inside, Jackson tilted his head when he found his mother standing in the foyer. She ran forward and hugged him tightly. Jackson spun his keys around on his finger, waiting for her to dislodge her body from his. She finally pulled away and looked at him, before she checked his body to make sure nothing was broken or bleeding.

"Where were you?" she asked, holding his face.

"At Derek's," Jackson answered. "He's helping me with something."

"And you couldn't call to tell us?"

"I didn't know I had to do that." His mother's face twisted and Jackson frown, trying to figure out the emotion. "You're…sad?"

Her eyes widened, not missing the question in his voice. "What is going on with you, Jackson?"

"I don't know. Derek is looking into it." Jackson stepped around his mother and headed for the stairs. "I'll be at the pack meeting tonight."

"At least, I'll know where you'll be tonight," his mothered called after him.

"Tomorrow, I'll be at Derek's," Jackson said as he closed his bedroom door.

He stripped and went to the en suite, turning on the shower. He washed quickly and walked out with a towel around his hips. Sitting at his laptop, he stared blankly at the screen. There was something he was going to do, but he couldn't remember what it was. There was no point in the computer, as he could use his phone.

Going to his bed, Jackson grabbed his phone and unlocked it. He stared at the screen, not sure what to do after that. Stiles had said that he wouldn't have results that day, so there was no point in calling him. He had seen Derek not that long ago and he doubted anything would've changed in that time.

Frowning, Jackson went back to his laptop. He might not have any use for it, but he could do some research about the kanima incident. He needed to know if the internet held any answers to the questions he knew others had. He had no idea what questions to ask the search engine, though.

The laptop was useless. Closing it, Jackson went to his window and looked out over the street. It was all he could do, until it was time to meet with the pack.

Jackson sat on the hood of the car, the headlights illuminating the area in front of him. He twirled a birch leaf by the stem, watching the way it danced. He was early to the meeting, but he could hear the others arriving. Derek and Peter were the first ones there, only Peter showing mild surprise at Jackson being there.

Isaac skidded to a halt in front of Derek, grinning and stepped back when Derek raised an eyebrow at him. Their expressions meant so much to them. Jackson had to question why he would want that. No one knew what he was thinking or feeling. From all he could see, from the small lesson with Derek, emotions were useless.

Erica and Boyd arrived together. Boyd waved at him and Jackson tilted his head. What was the point of that? They had clearly seen each other, but he knew better than to have questions. The last time he had questions, he discovered that werewolves were real. That had led to him being a murdering puppet and then to this, the best version of himself, by far.

"Until further notice, Peter is in charge of training," Derek said, raising his hand when the others fired questions. "I will be unable to attend the training."

"Why?" Erica demanded.

"Something's come up that I can't ignore," Derek said, something in his tone.

Jackson felt a light tingle on his neck and raised his head, gazing at Derek. He couldn't see anything different on the alpha's face. Deciding that his body was acting as strangely as his mind, Jackson lowered his head and stared at the leaf.

"I'll bet you can't ignore it," Boyd said with a sly glance at Jackson.

"Do we know why he doesn't have a scent?" Erica asked.

"I'll look into it. Until then, you follow Peter's commands." Derek looked at Jackson for a moment, before shaking his head. "Is there anything new to report?"

Jackson slipped off the car and walked into the forest, making his way towards the river. He had nothing new to tell Derek, but that was because he wasn't actively looking for threats or potential problems. While he knew he should listen in to any of those, Jackson didn't care. If anyone was dumb enough to attack him, he could easily defend himself.

At the river, Jackson stood and looked across it. He spent the next few hours waiting, not knowing what he was waiting for. For a moment, a whisper of a memory drifted by his mind, about the river and something good happening there. It was gone as quickly as it arrived.

In the distance behind him, a cell phone rang. Voices conversed and Jackson decided not to listen in. He turned from the river and made his way back to the car. By the time he arrived, Derek was standing by the car, waiting for him. Jackson stared at him.

"That was Stiles. He thinks he has an idea. I'll meet you at his place."

Jackson nodded and unlocked the car, slipping in and starting the engine. He made his way to Stiles' house, parking by the curb. He got out and walked into the house, going up to Stiles' room, who was stepping out of his bathroom and yelled when he saw Jackson.

"Jesus Christ, Jackson! When did you get here?"

"Three minutes ago."

"And you couldn't knock, to let me know you were here?" Stiles inhaled shakily and shook his head. "Damn werewolves," he muttered.

"Derek said you might have an idea. I didn't know I had to wait." Stiles stared at him and Jackson tried to analyze the expression. He wasn't familiar with it. "What is that face?"

Stiles' eyes widened. "Okay, this one," he said, waving at his face. "It's called 'shock.' It's like surprise, but much worse."

Jackson stared at Stiles' face, trying to commit it to memory. He forced his eyes to widen and his jaw to hang slightly, staring at Stiles. The human shook his head and Jackson's face reset. He had copied the expression, he thought.

"There's more to it than just…openings," Stiles explained as he sat by his computer. "There's about forty micro actions happening whenever someone's surprised. It's about how the eyebrows move, how the muscles sit around the eyes and mouth."

"Expressions sound difficult."

"They're not any more difficult than emotions," Stiles said with a shrug. "You used to, sort of, understand that. When you weren't being an arrogant dick."

"What's 'arrogant'?" Jackson asked.

Stiles stared at him for a long while. "Okay, this one," he said, waving a finger at his face. "This is called 'pity.' It's like being sad, but for someone else." He shook his head. "Never thought I'd miss the old you."

"I know sad," Jackson said.

Stiles watched Jackson, as though expecting something. "You look the same, dude."

"I didn't say I feel sad, just that I know sad. I know that emotion." Jackson tilted his head slightly. "That's the one where water comes from your eyes for no reason, isn't it?"

Stiles sighed and frowned. "Kind of," he said, his frown deepening. "You don't cry for no reason. Something usually causes it, something painful."

"Painful…" Jackson repeated, just to see how it sounded. "I remember that. Derek was painful." That was the wrong use of the word. "Derek was in pain."

"What happened to Derek?"

"I don't know. I didn't see anything wrong with him. He wasn't bleeding, but he was pained."

Stiles sat back, gazing at Jackson pensively. "Pain isn't just physical, Jackson. There's also emotional and psychological pain."

Jackson tilted his head and Stiles sighed. Something about the conversation was causing sadness to Stiles, he reasoned. "Are you sad?"

"What? No. I'm confused, which I think is the only thing you understand. You don't know what emotions or expressions are. Nothing we do makes sense to you." Stiles ran his hands through his hair.

"Is that what that is?" Jackson had been wondering about that. He didn't understand how he could have no emotions, but could feel confusion when around others. There was that confusion again.

Stiles stared at him and Jackson could see that 'shock' thing. "Jesus Christ, Jackson. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"That's what you were researching."

"I didn't find anything about a kanima becoming a werewolf and losing their emotions, plus their appetite and need to sleep," Stiles said as he turned to his computer. "There is literally nothing around for something like that. According to most places, you should be dead."

"I'm not dead."

Stiles stood up and grabbed Jackson's wrist, holding two fingers to his pulse. He frowned and placed the fingers to his throat. He placed his ear to Jackson's chest and pulled back, staring at him. That shock thing was settling back on his face.

"You're dead," Stiles said as he stepped back. "I mean, I always figured you were dead on the inside, but… You are literally dead."

"I'm standing here," Jackson said.

Stiles shook his head. "You don't have a pulse and you have no heart beat." He ran a hand through his hair, tapping the fingers on his scalp. "I'm taking you to the hospital. I want to see something."

"Okay."

Jackson followed Stiles out of the house, going for the car. Stiles shook his head and pulled Jackson over to the jeep. Climbing inside, Jackson stared out the windshield and Stiles pulled out of the driveway, just as Derek was about to pull in.

Stiles rolled down the window and stuck his head out. "We're going to the hospital," he called out and Derek frowned, glancing at the passenger seat. "He's fine…ish. I wanna check something."

Jackson watched as the streets moved by. Stiles muttered to himself and Jackson turned his eyes to the human, watching him. He wasn't sure if the behavior was strange. Stiles fumbled with his phone and called Scott, asking if his mother was working that night.

"She is… What's going on?"

"Something's going on with Jackson," Stiles answered, stopping at a red light.

Scott groaned. "Don't tell me he's become the kanima again."

"Was that pain?" Jackson asked.

"And worry and possibly a little fear, as well. Groaning can mean all sort of things. Pain, frustration, pleasure." Stiles shrugged.

"Why are you explaining that to Jackson? What the hell has happened?"

"I have no idea, man. He's been acting weird for the last couple of months, according to Derek," Stiles said, driving through the intersection. "We'll be at the hospital in a few minutes."

"I'll meet you there."

Stiles hung up and silence fell over the vehicle. "Derek's worried, you know," he said and glanced at Jackson, as though expecting some kind of reaction. "Do you remember anything?"

"I have memories. They come and go."

Stiles frowned as he stared out the windshield. "But there's nothing attached to them? No emotion? None that make you happy, scared or make you feel warm?"

"No."

Stiles sighed and pulled into a bay, turning to stare at Jackson. "And that doesn't scare you?"

"No," Jackson answered as he slipped out of the jeep.

Derek pulled in beside Stiles and got out, standing beside Jackson. "What's going on?"

"He's got no pulse."

Jackson stared at Derek. "That's shock, right?"

"Yep." Stiles almost smiled. "He's learning…I think."

"Recognizing emotions in others isn't the same as having them, Stilinski," Derek muttered, his eyes narrowing. "I thought you'd know that."

Jackson rubbed his neck, not sure if he liked that tingling. It almost felt like the last piece of humanity that he couldn't destroy. He didn't know where that came from, but found he wasn't wrong.

"You get that tingle again?" Stiles asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Yes."

The grin was something Jackson had seen on others, but Stiles' looked different. There was something else in the expression. Without a word, Stiles started poking Derek's chest and arms, laughing. The tingling returned and Jackson rubbed his neck again.

Eventually, it became a soft buzzing and his mind felt alive for an instant. "Stop it, Stilinski!" Jackson snapped and glared at Stiles, who nodded, while Derek stared at him.

"Okay, that explains…something," Stiles said, holding his chin as he stared at Jackson. "Do you feel anything, now?"

"I think it might be that thing you called 'shock.'"

Stiles' eyes moved to Derek. "Yeah, he looks a little shocked. Didn't think it would be a proximity thing, though." He tapped his fingers against his chin. "I think you did something to him when you scratched him."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Do you remember anything about that?" he asked Jackson.

"I remember it." Derek's eyebrows went up. "I remember it," Jackson repeated.

"What do you remember of it?"

"Everything," Jackson answered.

"Oh," Stiles said and patted Derek on the shoulder, which made Jackson growl at him. "Okay, guess Derek really doesn't like me touching him." He cleared his throat and stood beside Jackson, patting him on the shoulder. "What the hell?" he asked when Jackson growled again.

Jackson gritted his teeth. The feeling was bubbling in his stomach and hanging painfully in his chest. He looked at his hands and saw the claws, his shoulders tensing. He raised his head, staring at Derek. "What is this?" he demanded, glaring at Stiles when he backed away.

"I think that's anger," Stiles said, staring at Jackson's eyes. "He is a werewolf."

"He wasn't meant to be?" Scott asked as he ran across the street and joined them.

As suddenly as it started, the feeling disappeared. The claws retracted and Jackson felt his shoulders relax. Anger was something interesting. He didn't realize that Derek had so much of it.

Scott sniffed at Jackson and frowned. "He smells like…like…"

"Nothing," Derek filled in, putting some space between him and Jackson. "Do you hear anything?"

Scott's frown deepened as he stared at Jackson. "Fuck. There's nothing."

"And that's why we're here. I need to borrow a room and check something." Stiles headed for the entrance, glancing over his shoulder to check the others were following him.

Jackson stayed behind Derek and Scott. Stiles found Scott's mother and quickly explained the situation, which had the woman looking at Jackson. She turned her attention back to Stiles, raising an eyebrow.

"He's not dead. He's walking around," she said.

"Listen for his heart. Try to find a pulse," Stiles offered, standing to the side.

Jackson snarled at Stiles, which was cut short. Derek moved away from him and the anger died off. Melissa raised an eyebrow, but put her stethoscope on and pressed it to Jackson's chest. She frowned, moving it around. Her eyes widened for a moment, before she grabbed his wrist, moving her fingers up and down, searching.

"What?" Melissa shook her head. "How is this possible?" She looked at the three males. "Last I heard, he came back to life and everything was fine. Now, he's dead again?"

Jackson looked at them, tilting his head when all of them looked at the ground. "That's shame," he said, which had Melissa looking at him.

"What?"

"Emotions and expressions are a foreign concept to him," Stiles explained quietly.

"I didn't think Jackson knew what those were to begin with," Scott muttered and rolled his eyes. "Ow!" He rubbed the back of his head, staring at his mother. "What was that for?"

"I raised you better than that." Melissa narrowed her eyes for a moment, before she turned them to Stiles. "What did you want to test?"

"His brain," Stiles said and grinned.

Melissa pursed her lips for a moment. "We do have an MRI machine, but the technician has gone home for the night."

"That's fine," Stiles said, waving his hand. "You'd be surprised what you can download off the internet."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Stiles. It's an expensive piece of equipment," Melissa said softly.

"Did you want to explain Jackson to some stranger?" Stiles asked and Melissa sighed. "I didn't think so. So, where's this machine?"

Melissa shook her head, but beckoned the boys to follow her. Jackson stayed back again, looking over his shoulder. He was almost certain he felt someone watching him, but the waiting room was surprisingly sparce with people. None of them were even looking at the group that were moving down the hallway.

After checking that they were alone, Melissa unlocked a door and ushered them. "No metal near the machine," she told Jackson.

"Okay." Jackson stripped down to his underwear and stepped into the room, staring at the MRI machine.

"Nervous?" Melissa asked as she stood beside Jackson.

"No. Awaiting instruction." Melissa stared at Jackson with wide eyes. "That's shock," Jackson said as he looked at her.

"A little, yes." Melissa smiled and gently urged Jackson over to the machine, while Stiles figured out the computer aspect of it. "Some people find it a little snug. But try not to move too much."

"Okay." Jackson watched as the machine came on and the slab moved out. He laid on it and felt the motion, wondering if he would be nervous, before he became emotionless.

Melissa left the room and joined the others by the computer. "What the hell happened to him, Derek?" she demanded quietly, as though the other two werewolves wouldn't hear her.

Jackson twisted his head, trying to ignore the tingling. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling a weight on his chest and his throat close up. Sad, he told himself. Derek was sad.

"I don't know," Derek answered, none of them apparently hearing him. "He woke up and he was normal. A week later, nothing. It was gone."

There was a click of the intercom. "Okay, Jackson. You should hear some clicks and other things. Try not to move, all right?"

Jackson stayed where he was, ignoring the pressure in his chest and the fact his throat was dry. He straight up at the camera that was looking back at him. The tingling became a buzzing, as something Derek saw made him sadder. Jackson fought to remain still and ignore the tears falling from his eyes.

"Jackson, what's wrong?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know," Jackson said, a sob escaping his mouth.

"Damn it, Derek. Calm down. We don't know what's wrong, yet," Scott said.

The tears dried up and anger took over. "Shut up, Scott," Jackson snapped and glared at the camera. "Don't make me kick your ass to assert my authority."

"Talk about emotional whiplash," Stiles muttered.

There was silence for few minutes and Jackson felt the anger die off. It wasn't replaced with anything and he guessed that Derek managed to get control of himself. He stared at the camera blankly, waiting for his next command.

"Okay, we're done, Jackson," Stiles said and the tray moved.

Jackson joined the others in the observation room, looking at the images of his brain. He thought they looked normal, until he heard what Stiles was saying.

"So, this is what a normal brain should look like," Stiles said. "And this is what Jackson's looks like."

Jackson gazed at the image of his brain. The short clip didn't show anything. Stiles brought up another clip, explaining that's from when Jackson was sad. There was movement in his brain, the same for when he was angry. He didn't know what any of it meant.

"So…" Melissa looked between the four boys. "How did he get sad and angry?"

"Derek," Stiles and Scott said, pointing to the alpha.

"You're responsible for his emotional state?" Melissa raised an eyebrow. "There wasn't anyone else more…" She trailed off for a moment, wincing at her words. "…emotionally stable to control him? I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound that bad."

Derek growled, but nodded. "It's complicated, but, basically, we're linked to each other."

"All right." Melissa checked her watch. "Turn off the machine, make the copies you need and be sure to delete them. I'm behind on my rounds." She hugged Scott and Stiles, turning to Jackson. She hesitated a moment and then hugged him as well.

Jackson felt anger beginning to spike for a few moments, before it was squashed down. He looked at Derek, seeing him staring at Melissa's back. Melissa released him and smiled, stepping around him. Jackson watched as Stiles made the copies needed and powered down the MRI. Jackson followed them out of the room and into the hallway.

"Dude," Stiles said as he stared at Jackson. "Get dressed!"

Jackson turned and went back. He pulled on his jeans and shoes, stepping out of the room and pulling on his shirt. He frowned and looked up, staring at Derek. Something strange passed over him and he couldn't begin to explain it. Somehow, it reminded him of hunger, but not for food.

"What was that?" Jackson asked, not taking his eyes off Derek.

"What?" Scott and Stiles asked, looking between Jackson and Derek.

Scott sniffed at the alpha. "There's nothing strange about his scent or emotions."

"Okay." Jackson walked up to the group and Stiles stopped him, fixing his shirt.

Jackson's eyes widened and he winced, stepping away from Stiles. He placed a hand on his chest, some kind of chemical flooding his body. He trembled, staring at the ground. Was that pain? Why did it hurt his chest so much? He didn't feel like crying, but he wanted to do something.

"Hey," Stiles said, placing a hand on Jackson's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"What…emotion…is this?" Jackson grounded out, feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest.

"Yeah, Derek," Scott said, looking at the alpha. "What emotion is it?"

Derek growled and stormed away from them. The emotion vanished and Jackson straightened, still feeling the final parts of the chemical in his system. He didn't know what it was, but it had flooded him, making him want to cry or kill something or both.

"What did it feel like?" Stiles asked, fixing Jackson's shirt properly. "Was it anger?"

"A little bit," Jackson answered as they started down the hallway again. "And sadness. And…something else. Like a want."

Scott and Stiles glanced at the other, trying to piece together the information. Jackson knew that he wasn't the best when it came to explanations. How could he explain something he didn't understand? He didn't know what he was feeling, just that it gripped him suddenly and he wanted it gone.

They exited the hospital in silence and found that Derek had left. Jackson started walking towards Stiles' place, stopping when the human called his name. "Did you want a lift?"

"No."

Derek heard Jackson walking up the stairs to his loft and glanced at Peter. His uncle groaned and rolled his eyes, standing from the sofa. Derek didn't want anyone around for those sessions, as he had no idea what would happen. Since the first one, Jackson was too close to his emotions. He was beginning to act and say what Derek wanted to say and act.

"Here," Peter said and handed Derek a piece of paper. "These are the emotions I could think of. You'll need to explain to him the nuances of them, though."

Derek nodded and scanned the paper, seeing the usual suspects on there. Happiness, love and fear. The others were a little alien to Derek, as well. Compassion wasn't something he or Jackson were known for. Pride would have been easy for the old Jackson.

Peter left as Jackson entered and Derek looked up. He stared into the blank eyes of his first, Melissa's words whispering through his mind again. What had he done? Was this because of him or because of the kanima? Stiles' idea of what was happening was thrown out when he learned that Jackson was dead. They were no closer to answers than they were two days ago. Stiles was still waiting on the results from the bloods.

Staring at Jackson, Derek wondered if that kid was ever going to catch a break. It seemed that some deity was out to punish him. He was certain Jackson wouldn't see it that way, at least at the moment. Jackson without emotions, probably without thoughts was odd. Even when he was the kanima, he was still emotional. He still feared Derek, he still felt happiness. Love was something all of them figured he never felt, even with Lydia.

Derek lowered his eyes. Maybe Lydia could help him understand what was happening to him. Maybe she could bring him back, again. Derek was certain he wasn't the person for it. That had been proven with the kanima. As a werewolf, Jackson shouldn't be anything but normal.

Sighing, Derek pulled out his phone and sent a message to Stiles, asking him to bring Lydia over. Derek would have done it, but he didn't want to seem like a creeper. It was bad enough he was hanging around teenagers, but he liked their resilience. More teenagers take to the bite than adults or children. They wanted to fit in with a group more.

The silence spread over the loft. Derek thought his steady heart sounded like a hammer, echoing around him. He could feel Jackson's eyes on him, waiting for his command. Looking at him, Derek wondered if Jackson even knew anything about himself. Did he remember what his favorite food was? What his favorite color was? He doubted it.

"Come here." Jackson walked over to him and stopped two feet from the sofa. "In front of me."

Jackson moved, the only thing missing was the hydraulic sounds. Derek grabbed his hand, feeling the cool skin. The loft was cool and he found that Jackson's skin was neither cold nor hot. It warmed up in Derek's hand, but lost that heat when it was dropped. Jackson didn't feel the elements.

"Do you remember Lydia?" Derek asked, listening intently to Jackson's body. There wasn't a flutter of a heartbeat.

"I remember her."

"I think she might help you better than I could," Derek said quietly, feeling the failure rush over him. He looked up when he heard Jackson's heart. Jackson had his head lowered, hands were fists at his side. "I'm sorry, Jackson."

Jackson looked up, glaring at Derek through his tears. "Why do you feel everything so…so…powerfully?"

"Werewolves just do," Derek answered and found that link his uncle mentioned. He could feel the disappointment and sadness of failure. He didn't like that he felt that from Jackson, but it was better than not feeling anything. He shut down the link, watching as the emotion left Jackson's face and his heart stopped beating.

Derek sighed and stood, going to the loft door when he heard Stiles' jeep pull up. He glanced back at Jackson and found that he was staring at the sofa. The elevator powered up and Derek moved over to it, keeping his eyes on Jackson, who still hadn't moved.

"I invited Lydia and Stiles over," Derek said.

"Okay."

Derek was starting to hate that word. Somehow, it sounded more emotionless than usual when Jackson said it. Almost as though confirming he had nothing left in him. He didn't even bother to look over his shoulder to speak to him.

The door was opened and Lydia stepped into the loft, the gentle scent of her shampoo and perfume filling the space. She doesn't look at Derek, her eyes fixed on Jackson's back, as though she's expecting a reaction out of him. She frowned when nothing happens.

"Did Stiles tell you anything?" Derek asked as the male teen joined them.

"I gave her a quick rundown. Hey, Jackson," Stiles called and smiled when Jackson turned to them.

"Oh god, Jackson," Lydia breathed, seeing his eyes for the first time in months. "You really are dead."

"So I've been told," Jackson said.

Derek watched as Lydia walked up to the dead teen. She hugged him and he quickly looked away, not wanting to see any reaction from Jackson. Hesitantly, he checked the link and found that Jackson felt nothing. There was no spark of recognition from the hug. Lydia was literally a person from his memories and that's all. It didn't matter that he used to care about her.

Looking up, Derek found that Jackson was staring at Lydia. "Do you feel anything?"

Jackson's eyes snapped to his. "No."

Lydia sighed and stepped back from Jackson. She sniffled and then rounded on Derek. "What happened?"

Derek felt his anger spike. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Jackson demanded, a glare settling on his face. "If I knew what happened, I'd be able to fix it!"

Lydia raised an eyebrow, glancing between Jackson and Derek. "Really?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Well, that's good to know, Jackson. But I'd rather hear it from Derek."

"I don't know what happened," Derek said, his jaw tightening. "As I said, if I knew, I'd be able to fix it."

"You didn't say that," Stiles said as he stood in front of Derek, searching his eyes. "Is your—Can Jackson read your mind?"

"Don't be stupid, Stilinski," Jackson said, almost a touch of his former self in those words. "It's an emotional link, not a—Holy shit."

Derek stared at Jackson, shocked that he had said everything he was thinking. As far as he knew, it was only an emotional connection he had with Jackson, as he had been in a state of heightened emotions when the scratch happened. He would need to make sure he kept his emotions under control even more than usual.

The last thing Derek wanted or needed was Jackson feeling him and then sprouting what he was thinking. He knew there would be slipups, but he needed to make sure Jackson only felt the emotion and learned it. That was another problem. He had no idea how to actually instill his emotions into Jackson.

Lydia smiled sadly and patted Jackson on the shoulder. Derek glared at the floor for a moment, shutting down the link. "I can't save him this time, Derek," she said and turned her attention to Derek. "That's for you to do."

"You brought him back from the kanima," Derek stated.

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Through his heart. He doesn't have that anymore. Surely, you've noticed the lack of, well, everything from him."

Jackson snarled, his eyes flashing blue. Lydia glared at Derek, crossing her arms over her chest and waited for Derek to calm down. Inhaling deeply, Derek pushed back his anger and the blue died from Jackson's eyes. He really didn't like that accusation.

"I've noticed it," Derek seethed.

"And you've noticed that the only time he reacts is when your emotions get too high. They're literally spilling out of you and into him." Lydia frowned when Derek stared at her, waiting for her to continue. "This means nothing to you? Has no one in your family, before they were murdered, had something similar?"

Derek frowned, thinking back on his family. He had a cousin and his mate that were almost deliriously happy at times. Whenever one of them was hurt, the other felt it. That was expected from mates, though. He thought about those he was close to, realizing that he only felt how they did through their scents and the micro expressions.

He raised his eyes, seeing that Lydia was waiting for an answer. Fear shot through him as he read her eyes and knew what she was going to say. "No. We all had an emotional bond with each other, but a pack does," he answered.

Stiles stepped in front of Jackson. "You said he was stabbed with a knife and didn't flinch?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"I don't think he felt it."

"I didn't feel it."

"Okay," Stiles said as he straightened and turned to Derek. "Are we sure we wanna change him?"

"You prefer him like this?" Derek and Lydia demanded, gesturing at Jackson.

Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes. He pulled out a pocket knife and grabbed Jackson's hand, pricking a finger. Derek kept his fear down, not wanting it to roll into Jackson. A drop of blood appeared. Stiles gave a flourish with his hand, as though he was a magician.

"Stab this through your hand," Stiles said and handed the knife to Jackson.

Derek's eyes widened as Jackson shoved the blade through his palm, his blood dripping onto the floor. There wasn't a flicker of anything in his eyes. Derek wasn't sure if he wanted to hear what Stiles' reasoning was, but he shook his head and removed the knife from Jackson. The hole healed over instantly.

"What the hell were you doing, Stilinski?" Derek demanded and shoved the boy away from Jackson.

"Hear me out," Stiles said as he regained his balance. "Jackson can't die."

"You don't know that," Derek said, eyes narrowed. He wasn't going to lose a member of his pack again. He had lost Jackson once and that was enough. He couldn't lose his first pup for good. He couldn't live through it again.

"He has a point," Lydia said, but glared at Stiles when he smiled. "You could've just said that, instead of having Jackson stab himself."

"He should be dead," Stiles continued, gazing at Jackson. "He doesn't have a heart and his brain is, technically, dead. Yet, he walks and talks. If you have any enemies, I say unleash Jackson on them."

Derek stared at Stiles, unable to believe he thought of Jackson a weapon. He was treating Jackson like he was the kanima again, something to unleash on others and cause chaos. Derek knew that wasn't what Stiles was thinking, but it still cut deep to think that Jackson was like the kanima. He had stabbed his hand, simply because he was told to do it.

"Get out," Derek said and turned his back to Stiles.

Stiles must have realized what he said, as Derek caught the scent of guilt. "I didn't mean it like that, Derek. I know he's not the kanima, but even if he was… He's on our side now."

"Stiles," Lydia said gently and moved him over to the door. "I think we should leave before you choke on your foot."

Jackson moved to leave as well, but Derek grabbed his arm. "You're not leaving."

"Okay."

Derek closed his eyes as that word reached his ears. Why couldn't Jackson just be normal? Why couldn't he be that frightened, arrogant little shit that everyone knew? Why did his first bite have to go so horribly wrong? How was he meant to keep a pack together, if one of the members was an emotionless sack?

How could he have failed so badly?

"You didn't fail."

Derek opened his eyes and looked at Jackson, seeing the tears roll down his cheeks. He hadn't thought that. Why was Jackson saying it? His grip tightened on Jackson's arm, hoping for some kind of reaction. There was nothing, but sadness swirling in his eyes. And he didn't even know why he was sad.

"You're stronger than you think, Derek," Jackson said softly, placing his spare hand on Derek's shoulder.

Derek frowned and straightened. "That's comfort," he said. "You're comforting me. Why?"

"Because I feel it," Jackson answered, more tears rolling down his cheeks. "I don't want to, but I do. And you've always been too hard on yourself."

"What do you feel?"

"Your pain…all that pain." Jackson frowned and looked away from Derek. That was the Jackson he knew; the one that hated emotions and tried to run from them. "Your feelings of inadequacy. The… Your fear of losing me."

Derek listened to Jackson's beating heart. That should have filled him with elation, but he pulled back. He couldn't have Jackson knowing anything else. He already knew too much, felt too much. It wouldn't take long for him to piece together the details.

Jackson looked at him. "And you wonder why I have an issue with my emotions?" he asked, his voice still gentle and soothing. "Look at what you're doing."

Anger took over Derek and he shut down the link, watching the life leave Jackson's eyes. "This is about you becoming human again. This has nothing to do with me. Leave."

"Okay."

Derek frowned as Jackson left without another glance at him. Once the door was closed, he collapsed onto the sofa and held his head in his hands. What was he going to do?

Looking up, Derek's eyes widened as he felt warmth wrap around him. Somehow, despite wanting to teach him sorrow, Jackson had learnt compassion.

End Chapter II.

Thanks for reading! Hope y'all enjoyed it. Drop a line if ya did.

Until the next one.

Peace.
Auska.