Let the Healing Light Come In

The birthday cake was one of those huge monstrosities that no one could actually completely eat. It was a cake that was meant to be admired, not eaten. It was a dark red color, and Jackson’s nose felt clogged as he stepped closer to it. The smell made the back of his throat tingle, and he rubbed lightly above the dip of his collarbones. The smell was choking him now, and a human hand rested on his shoulder. Long fingers with a desperately tight grip. Another hand came down on his other shoulder. This hand was older but stronger, the grip more confident.

“Wow, Jackson, you really outdid yourself this time.” Matt’s grip was cold and wet, and he sounded like he was talking underwater.

“Good work, Jackson. A true masterpiece.” Black fluid oozed from between Gerard’s fingers and dripped down Jackson’s chest and arm.

It wasn’t a cake; it wasn’t a cake at all. His adoptive parents, Sheriff Stilinski, and Melissa McCall made up the base. Blank eyes stared up at him, so disappointed. Always disappointed. Then there was Boyd, Erica, the girl from the rave he killed, and the man from the camper in the woods (his son was an orphan now). They didn’t know him, but they were scared of him (monsteramongstmonsters, Matt had whispered). Scott, Isaac, and Stiles were the next tier. Scott’s look was guilty, like everything was somehow his fault. Isaac’s look was smug, like he knew Jackson would be the one to end them all. Stiles’s mouth was open in a silenced scream, and his throat had been ripped open. Allison came next, and her pretty brown eyes were frozen wide in fear. Her heart was missing (it’s mine now, Matt was saying). Lydia sat at the top of them all, like a ridiculous wedding topper. Her eyes had been torn out.

“Why’d you do it, Jackson?” Derek was standing next to the pile of bodies, his macabre cake. Eyes the color of so much blood met his.

“I didn’t!”

“Of course you did, sonny. Why else would your hands be so red?” Gerard whispered. He looked down and forced his eyes to close.

“I sent you away so you couldn’t hurt them. Why did you come back? Why’d you do it?” Derek’s voice was a roar in his ears, and the hands on his shoulders were like hooks keeping him in place.

“But I didn’t do anything! I didn’t kill them!” Gerard’s chuckle sounded so amused, and Matt’s laugh sounded like he was struggling to breathe. “I didn’t kill them! I didn’t—”

“—kill them! I didn’t kill them!” He woke up yelling and sitting straight up in bed, and a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest and yanked him backwards. Roman was sitting against the headboard, and his arms were locked tight around him. He fought against the hold with everything he had, but the arms wouldn’t loosen. When the roaring in his ears finally died down, he expected to hear the asshole mumbling the usual bullshit about how everything would be okay.

“There ya go, baby boy, get it out. You don’t have to hold it back.” He was using Reese’s pet name for him, and one large hand was making sweeping circles over his chest. The other was pressed against the center of his stomach, holding him tight against the cradle of Roman’s body. Roman’s legs were framing his own, and his back was pushed flush against Roman’s torso. The guy’s stubble was rough against his ear and his body was too warm, but he couldn’t move.

“Let me go.” Jackson wanted to growl, but he couldn’t.

“No.” Jackson slumped back into the older werewolf’s hold and used both hands to tightly grip Roman’s forearm. The dream was spilling out of his lips without his permission, and Roman just kept up those calming sweeps across his chest. It helped him breathe a little easier, but a few of the words still stuck in his throat. When he was through, Roman lifted him bodily into the air and moved away from the headboard. He laid flat on the bed and moved Jackson around until he was comfortable. Jackson had his ear resting over Roman’s heart, and the rest of their limbs were completely tangled. It probably should’ve been painful but was instead really comfortable.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Jackson had just described the most fucked up dream he’d ever had, and Roman hadn’t said a single fucking thing. Instead he was wrapped around Jackson like an octopus with superglue on its tentacles.

“Reese told you about her voice?”

“Her voice? You mean why it sounds like she swallowed gravel wrapped in sandpaper? Yeah.” Roman’s arms shifted a bit until one of his hands was covering Jackson’s heart. Jackson wasn’t sure how it fit in the zero amount of space between their bodies, but whatever.

“I watched it happen. The smell was…I’ll never forget the way it smelled as her throat caught fire and the wolfsbane stopped her from healing. Her mouth was open, but she couldn’t scream. Her claws tore her throat open even more as she ripped the arrow out, but it still wouldn’t heal.”

“Why are you—”

“I finally reached her just as the hunter was about to land a killing blow. I made sure to get rid of the knife before I tore out his ulna and stabbed him in the heart with it. That’s just one, and there have been many more.”

“You stabbed a guy with his own arm bone?” They both shifted so they could see the other’s eyes, and Jackson was once again surprised at the sheer amount of anger in Roman’s eyes. He could see a bit of it in Reese’s eyes, the anger under the surface, but Roman’s was always obvious.

“Yes.” Jackson had only been here for a week, barely even that, but he trusted these people. Jackson laid his head back down and listened to the slow beat of Roman’s heart. His eyes caught the red number of the clock, and he groaned quietly. Roman’s chest rumbled under his ear, which Jackson interpreted as Roman questioning him. The guy had clearly used up his words for the night.

“It’s my birthday. My parents were in a car accident the night I was born. My birth mother was technically dead, so they did an emergency c-section.” Once again, the words were just spilling out without his control. No one knew that, except for the people present when it had happened. Roman moved one large hand to cup the back of his head, and his fingers lightly scratched at his scalp.

“Happy birthday, Jackson.” Maybe the guy still had some words left after all.



Allison shifted and ducked so that Dean’s fist went over her shoulder. She grabbed his arm and bent her body at the same time, and she used her momentum to flip her older cousin over her head. She lightly turned on her toes with her fists raised, but Dean was still laying on the ground. He was flat on his back and laughing so much that his entire body was shaking, and Allison let her stance relax. Dean was dressed only in a pair of loose sweatpants, and she had been right in assuming that the rest of his body was scarred. Some were from claws, others from knives, and a few things that Dean didn’t elaborate on. She got the message though. Her cousins had lived hard lives, and the evidence was carved into them for all the world to see. Despite that though, Dean was still beautiful when he laughed.

“Maybe we should move onto something sharp and pointy.” He easily rolled up onto his feet, and she had a comeback on her lips when Sam’s shout suddenly split through the air. Dean went from relaxed and smiling to tense and serious in a matter of seconds, and Allison had to scramble to catch up to him.

“Sam! What happened?” Sam was standing in what he called the common room, where the research was done. He had left earlier that morning on a case a few towns over. Sam and Dean didn’t want her to get involved too much, and Sam had insisted that he could take care of it on his own.

“We were right, it was a witch. I found her and stopped her before she finished the ritual, and she was not happy. She’s gone though,” Sam said as he hurriedly stripped off his clothes. Once he was bare from the waist up, he turned around. Dean cursed under his breath, and Allison brought a hand up to cover her mouth. There was a deep gash starting on his ribs and moving to his back, and Allison knew that it would need stitches.

“I’ll go get the med kit,” Dean grumbled. Sam was trying to twist around to see the rest of the wound, and Allison walked over to him.

“Maybe we should take you to a hospital?” He looked down at her and smiled.

“Dean and I have been patching ourselves up for years. This is nothing. Come on, we’ll wait for him in the nursery.”

“Nursery?” Allison asked as Sam walked off. He looked at her over his shoulder with a sheepish smile.

“It’s what we call it. Somewhere we can get patched up at so we don’t get blood where we sleep.” The nursery was just a small room, with a small bed. Sam instantly laid down on it, and Allison carefully sat at his side. Dean bustled inside and laid his supplies on the floor. There was a bowl of water with a washcloth next to it, alcohol, needle and thread, bandages, and a few small towels.

“Allison, do you know how to sew?”

“Yeah, my mom taught me.” Dean gave her a pointed look, and Allison looked from him to the still bleeding cut on Sam’s side. “You want me to…”

“You can do it, Allison. I’ll walk you through it.” Sam smiled at her, and Allison jerkily nodded her head.

They washed the blood off first and then cleaned the wound. Dean talked to her to keep her hands from shaking as she threaded the needle, and Sam told her about the book he’d been reading as she started stitching his skin back together. She stayed steady as she worked, but her hands started shaking again as she wiped off the new blood so she could tape the bandages down. Sam caught her hand when she was finished and thanked her, but she couldn’t reply or she might start crying. Dean’s large hands settled on her shoulders, and she leaned her head against one of them.

“You did a good job, Allison. I think that’s enough for today.”



Forrest was back in his workshop, with King, so he was alone in the store. Reese promised to stop in sometime that afternoon, but it was barely even noon. Man, everything was so weird. Roman had the afternoon shift, so he didn’t have to work until three, and he’d still been asleep in Jackson’s bed when he left with Forrest that morning. It had only been a week since he moved in, but they already had a routine fixed up. The phone in his pocket vibrated, and Jackson worried for just a moment that it was someone calling to wish him a happy birthday. The phone kept vibrating, so Jackson pulled it out and answered without checking the Caller ID.

“What?” The question was snapped out, and there was silence on the other end.

“Jackson?”

“Why are you calling me, Derek?”

“Are you okay?” Jackson pulled the phone away from his ear and just looked at it for a moment. Why would Derek care if he was okay or not? If he wanted to know, he could just call Shane.

“I’m fine. Anything else?”

“No, I just…I wanted to make sure they were treating you okay.”

“Well, they are. Is that the only reason you called?”

“You can call me if you need anything.” Was this Derek trying to be an alpha? Was he trying to make up for almost killing him? A few times?

“Whatever. I’m hanging up now.” He did just that and then stuffed the phone back into his pocket. He didn’t have time to deal with Derek’s guilt trip. He was still scowling at the counter next to the cash register when the bell over the door went off, and he pushed a smile onto his face as he looked up. Roman’s angry stare met his, so he let the smile slide off.

“What’s got you so pissed off?” Roman asked as he crossed the store in a few easy strides. He dropped a paper bag on the counter between them, and Jackson could smell turkey and potato salad.

“Like you have any room to talk with that face?” He pulled the bag closer to him and started pulling the food out. There were two turkey sandwiches, a giant bowl of potato salad (that Kit had cooked the night before and was ridiculously good), and a thermos of tea.

“I always look like this.” Jackson raised a brow at that and took a bite of the sandwich. He normally didn’t like turkey, but Kit knew how to make it without the meat completely drying out. Jackson couldn’t understand why the guy was a cop; he should’ve been a chef with his own TV show or something. Roman growled low in his throat, and Jackson’s eyes rolled.

“Derek called, and it was weird.”

“It’s weird for your alpha to call you?” Jackson chewed on his giant bite of turkey and washed it down with some of the tea. Reese and Forrest lived off of coffee, Roman only drank milk (and chocolate at that) and Gatorade, but Jackson preferred Kit’s huge tea selection.

“He’s not an alpha like yours. The guy has no idea what he’s doing, and he isn’t exactly the caring type.” Roman tensed at that, and the loud growl made Jackson look up.

“What’d he say?”

“He just wanted to make sure you guys were treating me right and said to call him if I needed anything.” Roman relaxed at that and slowly nodded his head.

“Sounds like a caring alpha to me.”

“Whatever. Why are you here?” Roman looked away from his eyes, which wasn’t normal Roman behavior, and shrugged.

“Pops asked me to come by, so I brought you lunch. Forrest forgets that people need to eat.”

“So you made me lunch?”

“Don’t get used to it.” Roman turned and left the store, and Jackson took another bite of his sandwich. Definitely a weird day, but at least he got some good food out of it.



“You’re being lazy, little sister.” Reese popped her head out of the blankets and pouted up at Kit.

“’M sleepy,” she mumbled.

“You’ve been like this for weeks, Reese. It’s okay to be upset, but you can’t keep everything inside like this.” Kit was sitting on the edge of the bed now, with one hand slowly combing through her hair. Nothing else could calm her down quite so efficiently.

“It was a break up, Kit, and that’s all. I think I can handle it just fine.”

“Which is why you’ve been sleeping so much and avoiding the rest of the family?”

“I haven’t been avoiding anyone; I’ve just been adjusting to my new job.” It sounded weak, even to her ears.

“You’ve taken to the job with ease. I work there too, remember?” Kit’s smile was soft, but Reese wasn’t in a very soft mood.

“I get why he left me, okay? I wasn’t what he wanted, and that’s okay. I’m not going to change who I am, not for anyone.”

“Yes, I remember you screaming that at one point. What did he want to change exactly?” Reese shifted under her fluffy blanket and felt her jaw lock. A little over a month ago, her boyfriend of five years left. He didn’t just leave her though; he left the pack and the state. He’s with another, much smaller, pack in southern California now.

“He wanted me to stop fighting, but I’m not ready to. I thought he understood what it meant to me, but I was wrong.” What he’d actually said was that he could never marry a woman who might leave one day and never come back.

“Maybe he just worried about you?”

“Yeah, that’s what he said. I understand why he left, I really do. I’ll be fine; I’m just adjusting.” Kit nodded and then moved around until he was laying behind her. He wrapped his arms around her middle, and Reese snuggled back into his tight hold.

“I wish I could take your pain away like you do mine.”

“Silly, Kit. You already are.”



Derek was looking down at his phone like it had bitten him when Isaac walked into the loft, but Isaac didn’t question it. Derek scowling at inanimate objects wasn’t something new; it was just something Derek did. Isaac sat down on the couch and watched as Derek’s face darkened even more. Suddenly, Derek’s head snapped up so he could look straight at him. Isaac shifted a little under the glare and raised a brow in question.

“Do you trust me?” Isaac almost laughed, until he realized that Derek’s face was completely serious. Okay, serious question time. Trust was a big thing, and sometimes Isaac wondered if he trusted anyone (and that included himself). He was a teenage werewolf without any family to speak of, and he lived in a loft with a guy who had even more issues than him. Maybe that was it though. Derek was messed up too.

“Yes.” His heartbeat was steady, proving his answer, and Derek’s eyebrows relaxed a fraction.

“I thought of somewhere else we could look…” Isaac followed Derek out of the loft without question.



“Excuse me?” Jackson smiled at the pretty blonde in front of him with his most charming smile.

“Can I help you?” The words still felt foreign on his tongue, even after saying them repeatedly for the past week, but he liked money.

“Is Forrest here?” The woman looked to be close to Forrest’s age, maybe a little younger, and her blue eyes were flicking all around the shop. Forrest told him this morning that he didn’t have any appointments and had left him with strict instructions to not bother him.

“Not at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?” The woman’s expression tightened, so that her eyes narrowed and lips thinned.

“Can you tell him to call me when he gets back?”

“And you are?”

“Natalie,” the woman practically hissed.

“I’ll be sure to do just that.” The woman gave him one last glare, flipped her perfectly straight hair over her shoulder, and sashayed out of the store. She reminded him a bit of Lydia, but Lydia would’ve eaten her alive. Jackson waited until he was sure the woman was gone before walking to the door behind the counter. King waved at him as he walked into the shop, and Forrest turned around with a guilty look. The guy had obviously heard everything.

“Sorry to put you through that, Jackson,” he said as he rubbed the back of his head. Sawdust flew out, and King laughed as he tried to catch some of it. The kid still wasn’t sleeping through the night, but he looked alright.

“What exactly was that? Ex?” Forrest looked down and shook his head. He pushed out a breath and then reached down to swing King up onto his hip.

“She keeps trying to get me to go on a date with her.”

“And you what? Don’t like her?”

“It’s not that! She seems like a nice young lady, but I…”

“Forrest only has eyes for one special lady.”

“Ree!” King started clapping, and Jackson looked over his shoulder to see Reese standing in the doorway separating the store from the shop.

“One true love kind of deal?” Jackson asked.

“It’s not like that,” Forrest mumbled.

“Who is it?” Reese smiled at him and walked over so she could link her arm through his.

“Remember the family of werebears I told you about?” He searched through a week’s worth of memories until he remembered. Reese and the others had been helping a family of werebears when her throat got fried; the parents had died but the daughter survived. Reese continued when he nodded, “The daughter’s name was Marietta Mays. For what it’s worth, Mari is sweet on Forrest too.”

“It’s not like that, Reese,” Forrest said, louder this time.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, big brother. Now, your presence is required at home. Don’t worry, Jackson and I will take care of little King and lock up.”

“Is everything alright?” Forrest’s words came out in a rush, but Reese just smiled.

“Everything is perfect. Call me when you’re ready for us to come home?” Reese let him go and gently pulled King from Forrest’s arms. A few minutes later, Forrest was gone and Reese was doing a victory dance with King laughing on her shoulders.

“What just happened?”

“Mari showed up at the house. She’s a firefighter and when she heard there was an opening here, she opted to transfer. She’s got an apartment here in town, but I have a feeling that it won’t be long before we have a new housemate.” Reese’s face was lit up, and she danced around some more with a still laughing King.

“Don’t you think he’ll just move out instead?” It was what made the most sense.

“After all the work he put into that house? Not a chance, and there’s no way he’s kicking us out. We’re all used to having a lot of people in the house anyway. Now, how about some ice cream?” King squealed in happiness, and Jackson rolled his eyes. Weirdoes, the whole bunch of them.



“King! You ready to go home to Daddy?” The little boy looked up from the toys he was playing with, that had been helpfully placed in the shop, and grinned. He ran over to Jackson and made grabby hands, and Jackson rolled his eyes before bending down to pick him up. Jackson can roll his eyes all he wants; Reese knows that he loves that little boy.

“Bubba, go!” King yelled and pointed at the door.

“I’m going. You coming, Reese?” Jackson asked as he got to the door.

“I’m your ride, so yes.” Reese locked up for Jackson since he was holding the toddler, and she hummed happily as they drove home. King was practically vibrating as they walked up the steps to the house, and he was wiggling to get down as soon as they were inside. He ran straight for the living room, where he could undoubtedly smell Forrest’s scent. Sure enough, Forrest was sitting on the loveseat. King launched himself into his daddy’s lap, and Forrest scooped him up with a big smile. Jackson immediately went to his couch, and Reese walked over to her own couch where Kit was waiting.

“Me Keen.” King was standing in Forrest’s lap and looking at the woman next to his daddy. Damn, it’s crazy how Mari hasn’t changed a bit in the past five years. She was twenty-one the last time Reese saw her (she knows that Forrest has visited her a few times over the years), and she’s twenty-six now. She still has the same wavy brown hair, but it stops a little after her shoulders now instead of going all the way down her back. Her eyes are a light hazel, and her white tank top shows off her toned and tanned arms.

“Hey, King. My name is Mari.” Her voice is a little deep, not nearly as rough as Reese’s, but it’s soothing.

“Mari.” King looked so proud at being able to say it, and he made small grabby hands at her. Mari looked at Forrest, who silently handed King over. King immediately pressed his nose into Mari’s neck, and she reached up to rub circles on his back.

“I smell a little different, huh?” King looked up at her and made a quiet “awoo” noise at her, like the cute little wolf he is. Mari’s eyes shifted into a glowing green, a color that King hasn’t seen yet. He pulled lightly at the skin right under her eye, and Mari nipped at his fingers with a smile.

“Mari is a bear, King,” Forrest quietly explained.

“Baloo?” Mari’s loud laugh vibrated through the air, and Reese heard Jackson’s huff from across the room. Kit slung an arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side, and Forrest nuzzled the top of King’s head.

“Yeah, King, like Baloo. Do you like Baloo?” Mari asked. King nodded his head, and whatever tension had been in the room disappeared. King definitely approved, so there were no more worries.



“Allison?” She rolled over onto her back and moved her head to look at Dean. He was standing next to the bed, still in loose sweatpants but now with a robe covering his upper body.

“How’s Sam?” Her voice was a bit rough from sleep, and Dean handed her a bottle of water.

“Still sleeping it off. How’re you holding up?”

“I’m not the one who got stabbed by a witch.” Dean’s lips twitched at that, and he eased himself down to sit next to her.

“No, but you did stitch up the guy that got stabbed by a witch. And did a hell of a job too. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

“I’m fine, Dean, really. You don’t have to worry about me.” Dean placed a rough palm over her hand where it was laying flat against the mattress and turned so that he wasn’t looking at her.

“I was thirteen the first time I stitched Dad up. My hands were shaking so bad that I kept stabbing myself with the needle, and I had to stop to throw up halfway through. Dad had nearly downed an entire bottle of whiskey by the time I was done, and I didn’t sleep for the next three days.”

“Dean, I—”

“I’m not telling you for pity or anything, Alli. I want you to know that not being okay is fine too. No one expects you to be made of stone. This life is hard, and you can’t keep it all bottled up inside. Or you’ll turn into a grumpy old bastard like me.” Dean was smiling when he turned to look down at her, and she used a corner of her blanket to wipe at her face. God, it felt like she was always crying.

“I just hate feeling so helpless and scared,” she whispered. Dean’s expression softened, and he gently squeezed her hand.

“We all do. You just have to remember what you’re fighting for.” Scott’s face popped into her mind, but she quickly pushed the image away. “Get some rest. If you need anything, you know where we are.”

“Goodnight, Dean.” He called out a quiet goodnight of his own, flipped off the light, and closed the door behind him.