Behind closed eyes, I could feel an intense heat on my face from a burning light above me. I wonder, briefly, if it were the flames that came from being damned to an eternal hell. 

Pushing that thought aside, I blink through the scorch and find myself gazing up at a cloudless sky. The sun was at its peak, shining over my face and body. The ground I lay on was soft and soothing, the damp soil beneath me countering the warmth from above.

I sit up to take the world around me. 

There were miles of trees that surrounded the hill I lay on. Even though I couldn't see beyond the horizon, something inside of me knew it was endless. 

My hands drift to my stomach, lifting the loose-fitting sweater I wore to take in my wound from the bone spike. I freeze when I discover nothing. In fact, my entire body showed no sign of any damage. The scars I had been tainted with here gone, and even my knuckles were no longer marred with proof of the years of my training. It was as if someone had taken an eraser to the surface of my skin and wiped every act of violence against me clean.

It makes me feel as though I'm touching someone else's body. Those scars may have been hideous, but they were also a sign of my survival. Slowly, I realize that's the point. This time, I hadn't survived. 

"Liam? Stiles?" I shout, my voice carrying across the top of the trees. 

There was no callback or indication of anyone's existence but my own. I was alone. I knew death wasn't meant to be peaceful but was it supposed to feel as sorrowful as this?

Without any idea of where I would find myself, I ventured down the slope of the hill and entered the large expanse of trees. 

They provided shade underneath their lush growth, though still allowed thin rays of sunlight to slip through and light the path I walked. Under the sole of my boots, dry leaves and twigs snap and crunch. That, combined with the subtle gusts of wind that tickled the individual leaves overhead, were the only sounds I could hear. 

The further I journeyed, the more I started to recognize my surroundings. These woods weren't random, they were my home. Or, at least, it was. It was beautiful now, with no sign of the fire the Alpha Pack had used to engulf it. 

I don't take this illusion for granted and savor it as I continue to walk. It's a lengthy privilege, as time didn't really seem to pass. I had been going for some time now, but when I peek through the canopy of branches above, I find that the sun hadn't moved an inch since I woke. It's a confusing realization, but when I catch sight of movement in the treeline ahead, I don't care to linger on it. 

I dive behind a nearby brush, using the large intertwined branches to cover me. 

Squinting past the foliage, I try to get a good idea of what I was up against. It was difficult to see, but I knew there was something out there. I had to prepare myself for the possibility of it being a threat because this was unfamiliar terrain, and truthfully, I hadn't fully ruled out the possibility of being in hell. 

My eyes scan the ground, hoping to find a decent weapon. I couldn't take on anyone or anything with a fallen branch, so I settled for a sharp-edged rock that was a little bigger than my palm.

I creep closer to the area of movement, staying low and keeping quiet. Whatever was out there, stood in the middle of a small clearing up ahead. I knew I couldn't stay hidden much longer, I was making myself easy prey by doing nothing. 

It was now or never.

Taking a deep breath, I prepare myself for the possibility of a fight before I lunge out from behind my cover. As soon as I take in the sight in front of me, though, my body freezes, and the rock in my hand slips through my fingers. 

There in the clearing, stood my parents. 

My father holds my mother's waist with one hand, while his other grips the hilt of our family sword; all things lost to me, now finally returned. 

"Mama? Papa?" I breathe out, my voice cracking as tears started to blur my vision.

My mother holds out her arm that wasn't around my father's back, an open invitation. I bolt towards them, crashing into their bodies as I stretch my arms wide enough to pull them both against me.

Their laughter fills the air, bringing pure life to the woods. 

I'm unable to hold back my cries, gasping against my mother's shoulder. Before she was taken from me, I barely stood to her chest. Now, she seemed so frail in my arms as I outgrew her. I instinctively hold her tighter because of it, as I would never allow anyone to hurt her again now that I could protect her.

"It's okay, my love. We're safe here," my father whispers into my hair, sensing the worry that built up inside of me.

I pull back, only so I can take in their faces. They haven't aged, yet they seem so different. There's a certain glow to their skin that makes them otherworldly. It's as if there's a pure ring of light surrounding their bodies, protecting them.

"Look at you, mon coeur. You've grown to be so beautiful." My mother caresses my cheek. 

I shake my head, unable to consider anything else beautiful as I stare at her. 

"Not as beautiful as you," I say. 

She doesn't respond, only pulls me back against her and my father again. I don't know how long we stay like that, but eventually, I have to ask the words I was dreading hearing the answer to.

"Am I dead, too?"

"Think of it as more... in between. Whether or not you chose to stay is up to you, and if you do stay you'd be with all of us, your family," my father explains.

I beam at his words, and the thought of being able to stay with them, all of them. It was what I longed for since the day they were taken from me. But the person I became after that, I wondered if they would even want me to stay if they knew everything that happened.

Reluctantly, I remove myself from them. I have to hate myself before they have a chance to. 

My father frowns at the action, his eyes asking the question of why I had done it.

"If any of you knew what I became, you wouldn't want me to stay," I admit. 

"We do know," he says, and I shamefully meet his eyes.

I assumed I'd find resentment, but there's only understanding. My gaze falls to the sword in his hands, and I wonder how I deserved such a look after what I let Gerard do. He tainted the last symbol of our family before my eyes, and I would never be able to take that back. 

"He desecrated it, I let him ruin it," I tell them.

"He ruined nothing," my father argues softly. 

"The first Knight didn't have this sword when they vowed their life to the Kingdom. It came after. It's a symbol of what our family fights for. No matter what, this sword will always stand for our truest purpose..."

"Sacrifice," my mother finishes for him. 

"It's what our family was built on, and it's what we had the honor of dying for," my father adds. "This sword is not ruined, because no one can ever steal our sacrifice." 

He brings the hand the held my mother to my face, wiping the tears that fell from my eyes. 

"You are the ultimate testament to the sacrifice of our ancestors, my love," he says. 

"You are our legacy, but more importantly, you are my daughter, and I couldn't be prouder." 

I reach for him again when he's done speaking, clinging to him because I know this will be the last time. My family sacrificed themselves for me the day the Alpha Pack came. I had so much guilt inside of me because I thought they would have resented me for it, but they loved me regardless of it all, and they weren't the only ones. 

"You've made up your mind," my mother smiles softly. She understands that by dying, I was finally ready to live. 

"I'm sorry," I whimper quietly. "I wish we had more time."

My mother scoffs, reaching to caress the length of my braid as she had used to do. She's taking in my appearance, studying my face, memorizing it. I know, because it's the same thing I'm doing to her and my father. 

"You made a home of your own, that's nothing to be sorry for," she says. 

I nod, smiling through the tears that leave me. 

"I love you both, so much," I gasp, not taking the moment to say that for granted. 

My father gently removes himself from me, moving to hand the sword to my mother. When she takes it, he lifts the strap of the scabbard from his back. The reddish leather was worn from generations of use, but was still elegant. I'm confused by his actions, until he brings the strap over my head, fastening it to my chest. 

He takes a step back and reclaims the sword from my mother, her laying the blade in his hands horizontally. With a smile, he offers it to me. 

"We'll see each other again, when the time is right. Until then, you carry us with you. We will always be a part of you, my love."

I ball my hands into fists at my sides, an attempt to stop them from shaking. 

To carry the sword, would be to carry my family. 

The sword was a memory here, just as my parents were. Neither would be with me when I woke up, but that didn't make this moment any less real. The sword was a symbol of honor and sacrifice, and I would wield it proudly.

I open my hands again, and they're as still as the trees around us. 

I wrap my fingers around the hilt of the blade and bring it toward me, feeling as though I've been carrying it my entire life. I take a slow and deliberate swing, gliding the sword through the air with wide strokes. My father chuckles as I go through the same motions he had a million times when I was a child. He had trained me with wooden and dull blades, but never got to truly pass our sword down to me. Now he has, and for the first time ever, I see him shed a tear.

I place the sword into its scabbard, and with my free hand, I wipe his face dry as he had done for me. He smiles and places his hand over mine, the strength of his grip passing to mine. 

"Remember, you are never alone," my mother says, repeating her last words to me. 

She takes my other hand, and a serene silence falls over us as we know this is the end. It's not agonizing, though, as this time, we can finally say goodbye. 

"How do I get back to them?" I ask, speaking of my friends. 

My father looks away from me, his eyes journeying over my shoulder. 

"She'll help you," he replies. 

I follow his gaze, finding the owner of a familiar pair of dark brown eyes.

She holds a bow in her hand, and a quiver full of arrows is strapped to her back. Her hair falls in loose curls to frame her wonderful face, and she wears an easy smile that calls attention to her dimples. The burden of life has left her and I can tell for the first time in a long time, she's at peace.

"Allison?" I whisper. 

She holds her hand out to me, calling me forward. I move away from my parents and walk across the clearing to her, taking her nimble hand without caution.

"It's time to go home, Jac," she says.

I glance over my shoulder, taking in the sight of my parents for one last time. They are flesh and bone once more. Nothing can touch them here, and nothing will ever harm them ever again. Here in the woods, they are at home, and they are safe. 

It's for that reason, I finally let them go. 

Allison leads me away after I burn the image of their smiles into my mind. There's no longing inside of me to turn back because I will always carry them with me. They are my family, they are my sword, and they are within me. 

Together, Allison and I return to the hill I woke up on. 

When we reach it, we stare out into the infinite wilderness and I relish in standing side by side with her. I wish we could use this time to speak, desperate to tell her about Scott and the others, about Liam, but I somehow understand that this doesn't work like that. It's not a magical solution to death, it's only a place for me to make acceptance with the duality of my life. 

Allison reaches behind her, bringing out an arrow from her quiver. 

"This will guide you," she says. 

I'm not completely sure what that means, but I won't waste this time asking her any stupid questions. Instead, I give her an apologetic look, hoping to make up for what I could never do when she was alive. 

"I'm sorry I never told you I loved you," I say quietly. 

She looks almost offended by my words. 

"You did tell me," she argues. 

"Every time you fought by my side, every time you were there when I needed you. There's more than one way to tell someone you love them, Jac. I know, because I loved you exactly the same."

I laugh to myself as I step toward her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders for a tight embrace. Allison's surprised at first, as this isn't something we even did in life, but quickly reciprocates with a laugh of her own. 

"Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes," she whispers against my ear and I nod, remembering the oath we both swore.

"Are you ready?" she asks, and I step back.

"Yeah, I'm ready," I say. 

She lifts her bow, nocking the arrow. "One day this arrow will come back, and when it does, just know I'll be here. I'll wait for you forever, Jac."

"I'll try not to keep you waiting for too long," I joke, earning a fond roll of her eyes. 

"Your jokes still suck. I figured Stiles would have fixed that by now," she teases, trying to bite back a smile that was forcing itself onto her lips.

"There's not enough duct tape in the world," I reply amusedly.

Allison aims her bow toward the horizon, and releases her arrow. It soars through the air above the trees, abnormally straight. I keep my eyes on its general direction, not wanting to lose it. Though, something inside of me tells me that wouldn't be possible anyway. 

Allison turns to me again, her smile bittersweet. 

"Take care of them for me?" she asks, as she had once done before. 

"Until the arrow returns," I promise. 

Nothing, not even death, would ever keep me from protecting our friends. 

Without feeling the need to utter another word, I chase her arrow. When I reach the base of the hill, I turn and find Allison still standing above, watching me. In my heart, I understood that when the time came, I would find her there again. 

We exchange a final nod, and with that, I allow the trees to blind her from me. 

I take after the arrow, able to see it flying overhead through winding branches. It's unnatural how slow it flies upon my approach, as if held up by a string in the sky. I don't linger on how real this all felt, or apply knowledge to any of it. In all my years as a hunter, I had accepted that there were simply things about our world that couldn't be explained, whether in one life, or the next. 

As I sprint, an abrupt pain shoots through me. 

I collapse, falling to my knees in the dirt. I panic and lift my sweater, seeing the scars slowly return to my body, and the wound from Kate's beast dig into my skin. I gasp at the agony of it and let out uncontrolled groans to combat my growing suffering. 

"Pain is what keeps us alive," I mutter, now understanding the voice in my head as I died in Liam's arms had been my own. It was a warning of what would come, and a reminder of what to do. 

I rise from the ground, forcing myself to keep going. Each new step is more torturous than the last, but I push through it, and allow my cries to echo through the woods. 

The further I go, the more the trees become formless, like spilled ink on a page. The sun becomes overshadowed by dark clouds, too, no longer shining across the land. A thick fog seeps into the woods, blinding me to my surroundings. It was as if the entire world was being devoured by grey. 

When the arrow disappears from my sight through the mist, the pain becomes unbearable. I fall again, and the fog starts to consume me.

I start to give in, start to surrender between the divide of my life and death, until my memory brings forward the image of teary blue eyes. My chest swells at the thought of their owner, dulling the pain. He had begged for me to stay, to not leave him alone. That was the one thing I promised he would never have to be, and who was I to let him down?

I draw out my sword from its scabbard, plunging it into the soil I kneel on. I use it to hoist myself up, balancing my weight as I allow the blade to share the burden of my suffering. If pain was the price of living, it was a price I was willing to pay.

The fog starts to dissipate, dragging itself into a void of black that appeared like a tear in reality. The arrow flies directly into it, showing me where to go. The darkness beckons me forward, coaxing me gently like an old friend. I step into it and allow it to overtake me. 

This darkness would lead me back home, back to Liam. 

I belonged there, with my friends; my pack. 

~

||| A/N |||

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