~Hear Me Cry~
By: Aerys Krystie.
Stress
Standing where the window used to be, Jackson watched as the cars drove by. He ignored the chatter of the people, almost wishing someone was occupying his mind. It wasn't until that thought crossed it that he realized he had spent the last two days staring out the hole he created, not thinking anything.
The door destroying part of a wall had roused the others, who somehow managed to sleep through the argument. They came out and Jackson could smell their surprise. Once the link shut down, that god awful feeling that was coursing through him vanished. He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he needed to get away from Derek.
As for Derek, he refused to look at Jackson. Something told him that should hurt and there was a slight pain, whenever Derek walked past him without a glance. There was also a faint beating in his chest whenever that happened. That he didn't like. He remembered when he was angry with Derek, in the kitchen. His heart had been beating then and he didn't feel anything when he cut his fingers off, showing Derek that he was a monster.
His chest gave a painful thump at that and Jackson placed his hand over it. He wasn't sure what it was about, but the pain disappeared and the thumping stopped. He straightened and went back to staring out the window, deciding that thinking about anything was the problem. He was better off being that monster he was.
Tilting his head, Jackson stared at the young man across the street. He had a cell phone to his ear, but there was no voice on the other side. He was discussing something to do with markets and spreadsheets, glancing at the hole in the wall. Jackson kept watching him, until he noticed how the man shifted uncomfortably. He had already caught the scent. It was another werewolf.
"They know."
Derek and Peter stood either side of Jackson, looking down at the man he was staring at. The man looked at them and grinned, trying to appear nervous, but his heart was steady. Derek looked over Jackson's head and nodded at Peter, giving him permission to talk to the other werewolf. Jackson knew that Derek wanted to open a line of communication, but that still made no sense to him.
"I'm going to the hardware store to get something for…this," Derek said as he waved a hand at the hole in the wall and still without looking at Jackson. "Stay."
Jackson nodded, which made him frown. He usually spoke when given an order, to let them know he had heard it. Opening his mouth, Jackson closed it when he heard the elevator. He was glad for it. His throat was suddenly dry, like he was upset about something. He pushed it from his mind and watched Peter with the man.
"Hey," Peter said as he approached. The other pocketed their cell phone and flashed his gold eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. You're a werewolf. Who isn't?"
"That isn't," the man said, nodding at Jackson.
Peter turned around and looked at Jackson, giving him a grin. "Yeah, he's a werewolf, as well," he said as he turned back to the man. "Peter." He held his hand out and the other wrinkled his nose. "Ahh, so you're not here for niceties, then."
The man growled, practically bristling at the accusation. "Mike," he finally grounded out. "I was sent here to watch the alpha."
"Well, you probably could've howled. I'm sure he would've come running. He's the one that's stopping a massacre on your pack. But I'll tell him you stopped by." Peter grinned and crossed the street, coming back to the loft. "I think that'll piss them off."
Jackson watched as Mike walked off, disappearing into the maze of streets. He didn't know what that meant for the pack. He was almost certain that Peter had made a threat against them, but he had also seen the picture of the symbol. That had Peter very worried about the pack, despite how he played it.
"Now, we get to see how they respond. If we're lucky, they'll try to kill me and you can eliminate the threat." Peter chuckled.
"Okay."
Without Derek around, Jackson assumed he was supposed to look to Peter for guidance. He was the oldest of the werewolves and he knew their etiquette better than Derek. That didn't seem to stop him from trying to start a turf war, though. If he put the pack in danger, Jackson knew he would kill Peter without a thought.
"I love our conversations, Jackson," Peter said with a grin, resting an arm on Jackson's shoulder.
"Okay."
Jackson stayed where he was, even as Peter slapped him on the shoulder. He remained where he was, even as the television went on and Peter started laughing at some show. He stayed in place when Derek returned with a wheelbarrow, tools and bags of cement and sand. The only time he moved was when Derek told him to and he only retreated two paces. He needed to keep watch.
"Who was the werewolf watching us?" Derek asked, removing the broken bricks from the hole.
"Said his name was Mike. Was here to watch you, but realized you slipped out," Peter said, not taking his eyes off the television. When he heard the tapping of Derek removing the bricks, he looked over. "Kid did a lot of damage, didn't he?"
"Yes, he did. And that's why I'll never send him after that pack," Derek muttered, dropping the broken bricks to the floor. "I can't trust him."
Jackson decided that trust was a big thing to Derek, as he had said it twice. He didn't trust him. Jackson could live with that. He didn't know or understand what trust was and he was almost certain he didn't want to know. Derek held it in high esteem, which was probably why Jackson didn't want to know about it.
"Okay."
By the time Boyd, Erica and Isaac returned from school, Derek had almost laid all the bricks. He kept the holes for the windows, giving Jackson a perfect view out into the street. He had seen Mike and another show up for all of sixty seconds and then disappear again.
"They're coming."
Jackson felt all eyes turn to him. The others crowded around, looking out the hole, trying to see what he saw. He didn't see anything, but he could feel a threat descending upon them. It was a threat he needed to eliminate, if he could move. But Derek was the master and had told him to stay. No, not the master. Derek was the alpha that ordered him to stay where he was.
After a few minutes, he felt Derek tense. Another few minutes and the visiting pack came into view. They rallied across the street, staring up at the hole. Staring back at those that were staring at them. Erica leaned out and Derek pulled her back. Three sets of eyes flashed red and Jackson felt something in his abdomen sink, but it hadn't come from him.
Looking at Derek, Jackson smelled something he wasn't used to on Derek. It was fear, which was quickly covered. Derek turned from the window as the pack crossed the street and made their way into the building. Where the door had been was a gaping hole and Jackson felt Derek glare at him. The door wouldn't have stopped them for long, but it may have given them a chance to escape.
The others waited, tension rising in the room. Jackson stepped forward when he saw the red eyes in shadows, moving closer to the pack. Derek pulled him back and approached the alpha that was intruding on their turf. Boyd and Erica rallied in front of Jackson and Isaac, ready to kill for their alpha if he needed it.
"Well, what a cute pack you have," she said.
Jackson frowned as Erica growled at her. He hadn't found anything wrong with her words, but he couldn't place the smile on her face. The micro expressions were definitely alien to him, but he knew there was something in those words. Erica had better control of her emotions than that.
The alpha's eyes returned to their human color, hazel. She looked over the pack, her eyes lingering on Jackson. She frowned, narrowing her eyes for a moment and then continued to scan the rest. Finally, they went back to Derek and the smile returned.
"We heard that you wanted us to howl, so you wouldn't set up a massacre," she said and laughed.
Erica snarled and went to charge forward, only to have Derek's arm go out and stop her. "I never said that. I wanted to open a line of communication to know why you're in my territory," he said, not taking his eyes from her.
"Oh, don't worry, alpha. I know you weren't responsible for the threat. You would've done it to our faces, instead of trying to scare my beta." Her eyes scanned the group again. "I heard it was those two who made the threat." She pointed to Peter and Jackson.
Tilting his head, Jackson stepped between Erica and Boyd. He stood beside Derek and stared at the woman. "You're a threat."
"Oh," she chuckled. "I'm not a threat…yet." She turned her eyes to Derek. "I'm not here to take out your pack, Hale. I just want the two that threatened my pack."
Derek glared over his shoulder at Peter, before his eyes slid to Jackson. "You can't have them. All I have is your word that a threat was sent out," he said.
The woman smiled. "I just want that beta," she said, pointing to Peter. "And that…" She trailed off and stared at Jackson, sniffing at him. "Whatever that is."
Jackson felt that painful thump in his chest again at those words. He wasn't a person in her eyes. Despite being with Derek, he wasn't a werewolf. He was a thing, something that was unknown. Something that had no scent and therefore wasn't alive.
"He's in my pack," Derek said, standing in front of Jackson. "He's my beta," he added forcefully.
The woman raised an eyebrow. "Of course he is," she said and Jackson recognized the mocking undertone. "I know plenty of betas that smell like nothing. But I still want them for punishment."
Derek squared his shoulders. "I'll punish them for making a threat against your pack. It was never my intention to start a war."
Silence fell over the loft for a while, Derek and the unknown alpha staring at each other, as though trying to find some lie or some reason to fight. Innocents. Jackson turned from the alphas and went to the window, staring down at the street.
Finding that link, Jackson knew he had to send something to Derek. He needed to send some kind of warning, but he didn't know what he should send. He knew compassion and sorrow. How was that going to tell Derek that Stiles and Scott were on their way over?
Instead of trying to send through an emotion, Jackson simply said, Stiles and Scott. Inbound. The tension in the room rose another notch and Jackson knew Derek had received the message. It was time to get the other pack out of the building before the other two arrived. None of them needed the pack knowing that there were others helping them.
"I said I would punish them. If your pack did the same to mine, I would expect you to punish them accordingly," Derek said, keeping his emotions and heart calm. "If there's nothing else, we were trying to have dinner when you interrupted us."
The woman narrowed her eyes, glancing at Jackson, who turned to face her. "I'll be by tomorrow, to inspect their wounds. I want to make sure they're properly punished. An alpha can't be soft on their betas." She smiled and backed away from the pack. It wasn't until she was through door that she turned her back on them.
"What a bitch," Erica muttered and glared at the floor when Derek growled at her.
Jackson stood beside Erica, staring at the door. "You should have handed me to her," he said. "It would have protected the pack and made them leave sooner. They'll cross paths."
Derek went to the window, watching as the pack left the building. "I wasn't going to hand over the one that didn't do anything," he said and glared at Peter. "I told you to talk to him. I said nothing about threatening them."
"All I said is that you're the reason their pack wasn't massacred," Peter said with a shrug. "Not my fault they took it as a threat."
"How else were they meant to take it?" Jackson demanded as he shot a scathing glance at Peter. "God, you're an idiot."
Isaac raised an eyebrow. "When did Jackson learn anger?"
"He hasn't," Derek answered and sighed, the anger dying off.
Erica turned to Derek, staring at him. "He felt that from you?"
"Boyd, go and wait for Scott and Stilinski downstairs. Isaac, you need to finish your homework." Derek turned to Erica. "And you're in charge of ordering the pizzas."
Erica rolled her eyes, but pulled out her cell phone and began making the order. Jackson watched as Boyd disappeared through the doorway, hearing Isaac moving back to the table and opening his books. Peter was making coffee and tea and Jackson didn't know what to do.
He did his homework when the others were asleep, as it gave him something to do. After that, he kept watch over the pack. That new pack was going to cause problems for them.
"Hey, Boyd," Scott greeted when they were a block away. "Just had a run-in with another pack. Does Derek know about them?"
"Yeah, they just left," Boyd answered.
"They were pissed off," Scott remarked as he walked beside Boyd. "What did Derek do?"
Jackson felt the heat bubbling in his stomach and glared at Peter, his eyes sparkling blue. Peter stared at him, eyebrow raised, before his eyes went to Derek. "Calm down, nephew," he said.
"Why?" Derek demanded and turned to Peter. "You're the one that angered them and I'm the one being blamed."
"The perks of being the alpha, dear nephew," Peter commented, pouring coffee into two mugs. "You'll always be responsible for everything your pack does, even if you don't like it."
"I can kill him and not leave a trace of it," Jackson offered, advancing a step. He stopped when the anger left him and went back to the window, staring out it.
"Hello!" Stiles greeted happily, which died off quickly. "Jesus. What happened?"
"Jackson," Boyd, Erica and Isaac answered.
"I figured the door would be the first thing replaced," Stiles said, going over to the window and looking at the fresh cement. "Whatever. I need some of your blood, Jackson."
Without a word, Jackson went into the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife. He stabbed it through his palm and removed it, handing the knife to Stiles. He went back to the window and stared out, ignoring the shouts of surprise. He shut down the link between him and Derek, not wanting to feel anything from the alpha at him doing what was asked.
"This is gonna sound really weird," Stiles said as he removed his backpack. "But I think Jackson has regenerative abilities."
"He does," Derek growled, glaring at the stationary body by the window. "He decided to test it a couple of days ago. His mother watched him stab himself in the ear." There was a slight pause, before Derek's glare intensified. "And god fucking help you if you say, 'it's the quickest path to the brain,' again."
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "It is, though." Panic flooded the human when Derek growled. "Look, I'm not saying what he did was right or good, but he was definitely right about that. Aside from a gun, that is the quickest way to the brain."
Jackson tilted his head. "I didn't think about a gun," he said.
"Good," Derek snarled and turned his glare to Stiles and Scott. "That's all you're here for?"
"No." Stiles opened his backpack and pulled out his pocketknife. "His blood can heal others."
Inhaling deeply, Stiles cut himself. The werewolves growled as the scent of his blood filled the room and Jackson turned, watching him intently. Dabbing his finger into Jackson's blood, Stiles smeared it over his cut. Derek's eyes widened as he saw the cut heal over and then looked at Jackson, who stared back at them.
Erica frowned. "How did you learn that?" she asked, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You cut yourself and just decided to use Jackson's blood as a band-aid?"
"Come on, I'm not that crazy," Stiles said, wiping Jackson's blood off his arm. "His blood is alive. Once blood leaves the body, it dies off. His doesn't. His heart and brain might be dead, and have probably been dead for a long time, but his blood isn't."
Silence fell over the group as they stared at Jackson. Peter was the first to break it. "Well, that's just great and all, but that doesn't explain why his blood can do that. Werewolf blood doesn't work that way."
"Look, I've exhausted everything I possibly could," Stiles said as he wiped off the steak knife. "Don't you remember how long it took us to learn about the kanima?"
It was almost light a lightbulb had gone off in the room. Jackson tilted his head. He didn't know what they were thinking about, but when their eyes turned to him, he simply tilted his head to the other side. Derek grabbed his arm and threw him at Scott and Stiles.
"Get Deaton to look him over. I need to stay here and make sure the new pack doesn't come back."
Jackson sat on a gurney, staring at the wall in front of him. Deaton was in the middle of getting things prepared, in order to test Jackson. He had seen Jackson's eyes and seemed to know that something was wrong with him, but Jackson was used to that.
"This might hurt," Deaton said as he turned around, holding a scalpel. He slid it along Jackson's arm, frowning when the cut healed over. "That's even faster than a werewolf," he muttered.
"Limbs regrew just as fast," Scott said as he stood beside Deaton.
"Limbs?" Deaton asked, his eyebrows going up.
"Give him a demonstration, Jackson," Stiles said with a grin.
Jackson grabbed the scalpel and removed the index finger from his left hand. Deaton's eyes widened as the finger was back in seconds. "You didn't feel that?"
"No."
Deaton picked up Jackson's finger, smearing some of the blood onto a slide. He went to a microscope and hummed as he looked at the specimen. After a few minutes, he turned around and gazed at Jackson's back. His eyes ran over the scars from the knives for a moment, before he moved in front of him. He placed a stethoscope to Jackson's chest, trying to find his heart.
"Well, this is a new one to me, as well," Deaton stated as he stepped back, staring at Jackson. "He should be dead."
"He did die…twice," Stiles said, rubbing his chin. "Maybe that had something to do with this?"
"I probably should have given him a checkup the next day," Deaton said and sighed. "How's your appetite?"
"Non-existent."
"The last time you slept?"
"Three months ago."
"When was the last time you felt anything?"
"About an hour ago, when Derek was angry with his uncle."
"Derek?" Deaton lowered Jackson's head and ran his fingers along the neck, as though searching for something. He released Jackson's head. "Tell me about Derek, Jackson."
"He's the alpha of the pack," Jackson said as he stared at the wall ahead of him.
Scott and Stiles glanced at each other, frowning. "Why are you asking him to tell you about Derek?" Scott asked, standing beside Deaton. "You know Derek."
Deaton patted Scott on the shoulder and stood in front of Jackson. "Is he a good alpha?"
"I don't know."
Deaton nodded, picking up Jackson's hand and looking at the finger. "Do you like him?"
"I don't know what that means."
"Do you care about him?"
"I don't know what that means."
"How does Derek make you feel?"
Jackson stared at Deaton, trying to understand the question. One word flitted through his mind, but he discarded it. He didn't know if Derek made him feel that way, as he didn't know if he felt anything for the alpha. He knew he should fear and respect the alpha, but he didn't know how.
"I don't know," Jackson finally answered and Deaton nodded with a smile.
"Well, that's a good sign. You actually had to think about that question, which means your brain is still functioning. What do you think about Scott?"
"He's a beta and must be protected."
"And what about Stiles?"
"He's a human and must be protected at all costs."
Deaton ran his thumb over the scar on the top of Jackson's hand, turning it around and looking at the palm. "And what about your pack?"
"I'm not pack."
Deaton frowned, as did Stiles and Scott. "Derek is your alpha, Jackson."
"Derek is the alpha."
Deaton glanced between Scott and Stiles, before he checked the scar on Jackson's chest. "And what about Derek? Does he need your protection?"
"I must die protecting the alpha."
Twenty minutes later, Jackson was standing in the waiting room, staring out the door. Deaton was speaking with Scott and Stiles. He figured that Deaton wanted some privacy, but Jackson heard everything said. He doubted any of the information would be relevant.
"As far as I can tell, he's fine, for someone that should be dead," Deaton said as he washed his hands.
"What was with all the questions about Derek?" Scott asked.
"He has to think about Derek, as though he's searching for the right answer. He didn't do that with anyone else. He's connected to Derek on a deeper level," Deaton answered as he dried his hands. "He doesn't even consider himself a member of Derek's pack. But he would die defending Derek. And Stiles."
"Gee, that's not awkward," Stiles muttered. "He's hated me for most of his life. Why would he suddenly want to die protecting me?"
"Maybe he's grown," Deaton said. "Put that down before you hurt yourself." A scalpel was dropped. "All I know is that Jackson feels like he doesn't belong anywhere. Does anyone know if he remembers anything from being the kanima?"
Stiles opened the door and poked his head through. "Do you remember anything from your time as a kanima?"
"Yes."
"What do you remember?"
"Everything."
"Damn," Stiles whispered and closed the door again. "Okay, fair enough. I doubt even old Jackson would want to murder people, when he could just kick the shit out of them on the field."
"There you go. It's the best I can offer for now. I'll speak to some contacts and do a little research, but as far as I can tell, he's just searching for his place." A tray was moved.
"And what about his connection to Derek? Could that help him?" Scott asked.
"I think it already has." Deaton was silent for a moment. "He hasn't killed anyone, has he?"
There was a long silence and Stiles swallowed loudly. "You think he would?"
"He doesn't have emotions, Stiles. He doesn't care about anything, except protecting the alpha and the humans associated with the alpha. If he wasn't with your group, he would kill anyone that tried to stop him searching for his place. I think, anyway. It just seems that way." There was a hint of sadness in Deaton's voice and Jackson frowned, looking over his shoulder.
I'm searching for my place? Jackson straightened his head, deciding that maybe it wasn't completely useless to listen in. He hadn't even thought that he was lost, but that could be because of those few days as a werewolf. He couldn't remember any of the emotions he felt from that time, but he was almost certain they were nice.
"By the way," Deaton said as Scott and Stiles headed for the door. "Has Jackson shown any spontaneous emotions recently?"
"You could say that," Scott said. "I think he was about to kill Peter tonight." There was a pause. "Why?"
"Just something else to add to my list." Deaton opened the door, letting Scott and Stiles out. "Be careful of that new pack. I don't think they're here for tea and cake."
Stiles looked at Jackson for a moment, before he turned his eyes to Deaton. "Would his lack of emotions give him super strength and regeneration?"
"Super strength?" Deaton repeated.
Scott sighed. "He kind of destroyed Derek's loft a little, by throwing a door."
Deaton's eyebrows went up as he stared at Jackson. "Interesting," he said. "I'll look into it, but I can't see why lack of emotions would make him that strong."
"They're searching for me," Jackson said, feeling the threat grow closer.
"Who is?" Stiles asked as he stood beside Jackson, staring out the door.
"The new pack."
"You can feel them?" Deaton asked, standing beside Stiles.
"The threat must be eliminated."
Deaton nodded slowly, gazing at Jackson. "And how do you know they're looking for you?"
Jackson looked at Deaton. "Because I'm a threat that must be eliminated."
Derek stared out the window, waiting for any sign of Jackson and the others. He knew he had to sniff out Scott and Stiles, as he couldn't smell Jackson. That's what he did. Every few minutes, he leaned out the hole and sniffed the air, waiting to catch their scents. He was worried.
Even Isaac and Erica had asked if it should take that long. Three hours they had been gone for. Three hours and not one phone call. Derek expected that from Jackson, but he figured Scott or Stiles would have called him. That was one of his pack wandering around with them and they hadn't called. He expected them to call just to tell him what Deaton said, but his phone didn't move.
After two hours, Derek had sent Erica and Isaac to their rooms. He doubted they would sleep, but he didn't need them watching him worry. He didn't need them seeing him leaning out the window every minute, trying to catch a scent of someone familiar.
Finally, at long freaking last, Derek caught the scent of Stiles and Scott walking towards the loft. Keeping his fear and anger wrapped up, Derek sat down on the sofa and picked up a book. He didn't need any of them knowing he was worried about them. He was completely in control.
Ten minutes later, Stiles and Scott came up in the elevator, while Jackson walked up the stairs. They arrived together and Derek glanced at their faces. Jackson's was vacant, his eyes sparkling blue for a moment, before it disappeared. He went to the window and stood there, staring out into the night. Stiles was chewing his lip nervously, watching Jackson.
"What did Deaton have to say?" Derek asked.
"He doesn't know, either," Scott answered and paced in front of the sofa. "By all accounts, all anyone can agree on is that Jackson should be dead."
Boyd, Erica and Isaac came out of their rooms. Relief flooding through them when they saw Jackson in his usual spot. Derek growled at them, wanting them to sleep before school. There were mutters of protest, but the three betas returned to their rooms.
"Is that all?" Derek inquired, closing his book.
"He asked Jackson a bunch of questions," Scott said and paused in his pacing. "Hey, Isaac, what is Derek?"
"He's my alpha," Isaac answered immediately.
"Jackson, what is Derek?"
"He's the alpha."
Derek turned and stared at Jackson. That stung. He wasn't just the alpha, he was Jackson's alpha. He was the one that turned him. He was the one that accepted him as a werewolf. He was part of the pack, whether he liked it not. He wasn't some stranger.
"What do you think about me, Jackson?"
"You're a beta and must be protected."
Scott placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "And what about Stiles?"
"He's a human and must be protected at all costs."
Derek frowned and stood, staring at Jackson. For someone that didn't have emotions, Jackson certainly felt like he needed to protect others. He was beginning to regret not going with them. He wanted to know what else was said, aside from Jackson being alive when he shouldn't be. He was beginning to tire of hearing that.
As he opened his mouth to question Jackson, Scott held his hand up. "Allow me. You need to hear this. And what about Derek? Does he need your protection?"
"I must die for the alpha."
Derek's heart thumped painfully in his chest and he made sure the link was closed off. He was hoping that Jackson would refer to him as 'his alpha.' Instead, it was still 'the alpha.' He knew he really hadn't done much for Jackson, in terms of being a werewolf, but there wasn't much time to help him, before he lost his emotions and his ability to function normally.
However, when he thrust that to the side, he thought on Jackson's words. He hadn't said he would die for the alpha, but that he must die for the alpha. That didn't make any sense. Jackson literally couldn't die, he had to know he couldn't. As much as he didn't want it to, those words scared Derek.
"What else happened?"
Stiles exhaled, fingers twisting nervously. "Deaton thinks – thinks – Jackson lost his emotions because he's searching for his place in the world."
Derek glared at Scott. "His place in the world is in my pack," he snapped and Scott shrugged.
"You might wanna try snarling that at Jackson. He's the one that needs to hear it."
Derek reined in his wolf. "I will, when I have the time. What took you so long?"
Scott and Stiles looked at Jackson and Derek frowned, following their gaze. Jackson was still staring out the window, apparently not hearing anything. Looking back at the other two, Derek raised an eyebrow. He assumed it was a simple question.
"They were searching for me," Jackson said after a short silence.
"You sensed them searching for you?"
"Yes."
Derek frowned. He could feel when he was being hunted, but that was only when he was being hunted. He needed to feel the eyes and catch their scent. Jackson hadn't said that he caught their scent, but something told him that Jackson needed any of that. He always knew when threats were around, long before anyone else did. Maybe Peter was right.
Giving his head a slight shake, Derek shoved that thought away. The day he started agreeing with Peter about sending one of the pack out to die was the day he proclaimed his love of strawberry ice-cream.
"Do you know why they were searching for you?"
"Because I'm a threat and must be eliminated."
Derek lowered his eyes. Jackson had stated it, like it was a fact. He refused to believe that. Jackson Whittemore wasn't a threat to anyone. When he was a human, Derek's mind reminded him. He hadn't seen much of Jackson as a werewolf, but he seemed to pick up strategies and lessons quickly. He needed to stop thinking of Jackson as that scared human, who wanted something he knew nothing about.
"Why would they see you as a threat?"
"What else would you call something that shouldn't exist?" Jackson asked, finally looking at Derek.
"You heard what that alpha bitch said, Derek," Erica said from her room. "She didn't ask who Jackson was, she asked what he was."
Derek kept his eyes on Jackson, watching as his eyes lowered for a moment. The words affected him. They hurt him, which was a cause for celebration. Jackson had his sorrow back, though it seemed he preferred to keep it locked away. Derek didn't blame him and understood why that was.
Unfortunately, before he could think too much on Jackson showing an emotion, Derek was brought back to the question. "And does anyone have an answer for me?" he asked, turning from Jackson. "He's not a werewolf, he's not a kanima…he sure as fuck isn't human."
Peter sighed and rested back in his chair at the dining table. "Firstly, he is a werewolf. He still has the eyes of one. Secondly, he's a threat to the natural order of balance. That's why he can't die."
Stiles closed his eyes and groaned. "Of course," he said and opened his eyes. "You can't die if you don't exist."
"Exactly, which is why his blood heals, as well." Peter stood up and went to Jackson. "It's trying so hard to exist, that it would cure the world just to prove it's real."
"And the regeneration?" Derek asked, eyes on his uncle. He hadn't said anything about knowing this before. Where did it suddenly come from?
"Probably a side-effect of the kanima."
"Uh-huh," Stiles said, cocking an eyebrow. "And how did you come up with this?"
Peter pulled a small, battered journal from his back pocket and tossed it to Derek. "Turns out things that shouldn't exist, but do, while extremely rare, does exist."
Derek frowned and flipped through the journal, reading the small words. The author had come across something that couldn't be killed, while with a werewolf pack. "Did you steal this from the Argents?"
"They weren't using it," Peter said. "I also did some digging about Jackson, as well. His adoption records are sealed, but the death certificates for his parents weren't. When's your birthday, Jackson?"
"June fifteenth."
"Your parents were declared deceased on June fourteenth." Jackson turned to Peter as silence fell over the loft. "You aren't meant to be here."
Derek stared at Jackson's face. His eyes were wide, his lips parted as he searched Peter's eyes for a lie. He was experiencing shock, disbelief, things he hadn't felt in months. Things he was feeling on his own, emotions he was showing, even as Boyd, Erica and Isaac came out of their rooms and looked at him.
Unsure of what to do, Derek approached Jackson and hugged him. Erica was the second one to wrap her arms around Jackson, then Stiles and Derek felt it was getting too crowded. Before he could move, Boyd was behind him, locking him in place.
No. Please, no. Jackson's voice sounded so small in Derek's mind. He tightened his grip on the teen, lightly stroking his neck. I'm sorry, Jackson. Closing his eyes, Derek sent through as much warmth and comfort as he possibly could. He could feel it from the group that was smothering Jackson and Derek decided it was a good thing he didn't need to breathe.
No. Not now. Not with the pack in town. Derek opened his eyes when he heard someone sniffle and glanced at Stiles. The human was clutching Jackson tightly, as though he could will him to exist. Derek never thought that Erica would be the second one to hug Jackson, as she hated him for his ability to best her at hide-and-retrieve.
Bad news doesn't wait, Jackson, Derek told him gently. Bad news never waited for anything. The worse the situation was, the quicker it came around. Thankfully, the pack wasn't that much of a problem, unless they started finding bodies.
Well, it has to, Jackson said and Derek raised an eyebrow. That sounded like the Jackson of old. We don't have time for this. And Derek felt it. He felt the urgency to get something done and wondered how Jackson did that. When he was supposed to learn sorrow, he learned compassion. When he was meant to learn anger, he discovered sorrow. Now, when he was surrounded by his pack, all of them wanting to heal his wounds, he learned something completely different.
Derek knew that Jackson was different and viewed emotions differently from others. He never expected compassion to teach him stress, though.