The first time his eyes met the light, Jason stared up at a white ceiling. An incessant beeping scratched his ears to where he wanted to put his fist through a wall. Who was he kidding? He could barely lift his pinky. Jason familiarized himself with his surroundings: a hospital room. The orange glow of the setting sun filtered through the window to his right. A single, vacant chair stood next to his bed. He was alone. It seemed that no-one cared about him, not even his best friend or his loving mother. A chill gripped his heart. He should have known better...

Trying to sit up in the hospital bed, Jason moved his limbs; however, with every attempt, his muscles burned. He eventually gave up and watched as the sun set until the room plunged into darkness. Hours later, the hospital room door opened up and with a click, light flooded the room. Jason hissed as his eyes stung.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, young man," said a middle-aged man with gray sideburns. He wore green scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck. "It's a relief to see you up and about. You had me worried there for a moment."

The doctor, by Jason's deductions, walked up to him with a clipboard in hand. The ID card on his right chest identified him as Dr. Heart.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor said with a smile. His brown eyes dug into Jason, waiting for an answer.

"Like shit. What do you expect?" Jason groaned. Couldn't the doctor just fuck off and leave him alone and go ask his ridiculous questions elsewhere?

The doctor's eyes flashed gold for a second at his insult. Just fabulous! A werewolf. One of his father's lackeys, no doubt.

"Come now, Jason. Work with me here. The sooner you tell me, the quicker I can administer the correct medicine to make you feel better."

Jason scoffed and said, "And why do you give a fuck about how I feel? You're part of my father's pack of mutts. Wouldn't it be better for you all to put me out of my misery and declare my death as a natural cause?"

Anger flashed across the doctor's face. "How dare you imply I would stoop so low as to kill one of my patients?" He rushed up to the heart monitor machine and turned it off. "I'm a doctor, for goddess sakes!"

The doctor's proclamation didn't mean shit to him. Jason wouldn't put it past his father to end his life if he deemed it necessary. And since the doctor was part of the pack, Jason's life hung on a thread his father could easily clip.

The doctor continued speaking. "I'm sorry for what happened. Really, I am. Rest assured that my duty as a doctor supersedes my loyalty to the pack. I will do my best to get you back on your feet as healthy as you can be."

Jason highly doubted that. He'd never be healthy again for the rest of his life.

"Yeah, whatever..." Jason ignored the doctor and stared out of the window.

For the next hour, the doctor examined him. Afterward, the doctor left without so much as a squeak. Jason didn't care if he insulted him. Anyone in his shoes would have thought the same.

Jason was about to fall back to sleep when two nurses burst into his room and began changing his bandages, which covered him from root to tip. He would have ruptured their eardrums if he could, but his jaw clenched every time they touched his bare skin.

It hurt. Goddess, it hurt so badly! He cried like a bitch and he didn't give a damn.

The ritual fire had melted off all of his body hair. In addition, Jason's skin was sensitive to the slightest touch after the ritual burned away half of his soul. Jason thought he'd see his flesh charred to a crisp, but no, his skin was as pale as the dead. The nurses told him that his skin would never pick up heat or a golden blush again. The sun would shy away from him, leaving him cold to the touch.

***

As the days wore on, the emptiness in Jason's heart grew. Oz was gone, not dead, but obliterated. Even if Jason slit his wrists and died, he'd never see his wolf in the afterlife again. Like a tree, they burned him to the ground and reduced Oz's soul to ash. Only to scatter in the wind. The only remains which were left behind of Oz were the fractured memories that tortured Jason every waking moment.

The chirping of the birds outside Jason's hospital window irritated the shit out of him. If he had a shotgun, he'd blow them to bits. How could the world carry on as if nothing was amiss? How could the Goddess stand aside and allow such a tragedy to happen? But it did, and there was no justice. How the might had fallen... He was an alpha but with a flick of a finger and the chant of a spell, his father had reduced him to a shell of a mortal who had barely enough strength to breathe.

Another round of tears seeped into his already drenched pillow. Jason hasn't moved from his position since the night before. He kept his wary eyes on the birds who flitted across the window. That was all he could do. Jason didn't have the strength or will to do anything else. Sleeping was also out of his reach.

A set of high heels drumming down the hall filled his ears. They became louder with every second until they stopped in front of his room. The door slowly creaked open, revealing a short woman with brown hair and squared glasses that amplified her muddy brown eyes. Losing interest in the newcomer, Jason returned to watching the birds.

"Good morning, Mr. Brooks," the woman said softly. She must have thought that he was brittle to the touch. Taking his silence as an invitation, she dragged a chair up to his bed. She then took her seat. Subtle hints of cinnamon and rose water hit his nose. The woman had a pile of papers clutched in her pedicured hands. "Mr. Brooks, my name is Jessica Simmons and I'm a proxy agent for the Broken Hills Pack." Bile rose from Jason's stomach.

What the fuck did they want? Haven't they gotten enough out of him?

She continued with her shitty speech. "I'm here at the behest of your fath—"

"Fuck off!" Jason shouted. His harsh words whipped at her, causing her to flinch. However, the force of his voice pierced his weakened body. He hissed as he clutched his head, waiting for the throbbing to subside.

The woman, Jessica, stammered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, but there are important documents that you need to sign."

Jason's eyes narrowed on the papers. "What are they for?"

"They are college applications and authorization papers—"

"For what?"

She readjusted her eschewed glasses. "Trust fund papers. Your family has set up a trust fund in your name to assist you financially."

Jason's jaw clenched shut while he balled his fingers into fists. Not that he could actually punch the lady in her face. He would never raise his hand to a woman, but at that moment he wished he had his father's neck in his hands. He wanted to choke the fucking life out of his sperm donor. The fucking audacity to try and pay him off for all the shit they put him through. Did they really think that money could make up for destroying his life? Fuck no! He'd never touch even a penny of their goddamn money.

"Go tell my father to go fuck himself and my brother to drop dead."

***

After reaching a stalemate, the woman Jason's family sent left the hospital room with her ass hitting the door. He would never accept their money. They could go dig their graves and rot in them. Jason stared at the stack of papers the proxy agent left on the nightstand. They never cared about him, they only wanted to sooth their guilty conscience. Fuck them all!

Jason clambered off the bed. His knees buckled slightly as he made his way into the bathroom. He had become so weak, a toddler could kick his ass. After Jason removed his flimsy gown which left his butt cheeks frozen, he started peeling off the bandages from his body. He flinched at the sight of his body in front of a mirror. He had lost most of his muscle mass. A high-end fashion model would have been jealous of his skinny figure. His skin rivaled that of a vampire's, pale and sickly.

Dragging his ass away from the mirror, Jason got into the shower.

Twenty minutes later, Jason emerged from the bathroom dressed in a pair of blue skinny jeans and a black, oversized hoody that once fitted him perfectly. He walked over to the nightstand and took the papers in his shaky hands. He threw them on the hospital bed and sorted through them, taking only his highschool diploma. His eyes landed on a red envelope with his name on it. It was his mother's handwriting. Renewed tears streaked down his face as he picked up the envelope. He brought the letter to his nose. Orange blossoms and jasmine, her favorite perfume.

Jason ripped open the letter and read:

My dear son. Unfortunately, I lack the words to soothe your aching heart. Even if there were, it wouldn't bring you peace. I'm terribly sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most. I would have traded places with you in a heartbeat. Jason. I love you, my baby boy—

Jason crumbled up the letter and threw it across the room. He didn't want to read any further. It hurt too much. Jason wiped the tears from his face. No amount of words could make up for what they did to him. Jason's fingers latched onto the pendant his mother gave him.

She was right. Her words didn't soothe him.

He pulled on the chain, which dug into the back of his neck.

She did nothing to stop them.

Jason pulled harder.

Her loving words meant nothing.

The chain snapped. The pendant dropped onto the bed.

One of the dog tags stared up at him. From your first breath to my last, I will always love you. Love—

He turned around, picked up his backpack, and left the room. Jason stood in front of the hospital room and took the moment to stuff his diploma in his backpack. He left most of the paperwork for the proxy agent so that she could stick it where the sun didn't shine. The only possessions on him were his backpack with extra sets of clothes and his wallet, nothing else. He had to get out of the hospital before one of his family members showed up. He didn't have the stomach to face them. Not that it would happen, but Jason wasn't about to tempt fate.

Jason made his way through the corridors, sneaking past the nurses and doctors. Soon the cold winter's night wrapped its claws around his body as he stumbled out of the hospital. Fighting down a shiver, Jason threw his hoody over his nearly bald head. He sprinted down the road toward the nearest bus station.

Getting out of the city was priority number one. He wanted to get as far away as possible from his family's pack. With the thousand dollars he had in his wallet, Jason could buy a bus ticket and disappear before his family could track him down. Not that he thought they'd care. They would actually cheer him on.

A frightened feeling clawed its way along his spine as he walked along the sidewalks of Chicago. His lungs burned and his legs screamed out under duress. He still didn't fully recover from the shit they pulled. What made matters worse, Jason felt vulnerable. He didn't have Oz to protect him; he was a human in a world filled with supernatural creatures normal people ignored. What was the saying? Ignorance is bliss. A sob threatened to engulf him. Jason slumped against a building's wall, catching his breath. It would have been easy to give in and end it all, find the nearest train track, or nearest bridge... but what would his suicide have accomplished?

No, he had to carry on. Jason needed to show that he could pull through and make it on his own. It was going to be difficult, but he could do it, if not for himself, but for the sake of his wolf. His family always looked down upon humans, calling them weak and inconsequential.

Let me show them what a human is capable of...

Jason gathered his strength and made his way to the bus terminal. He bought a one-way ticket to New York City. Far away from the pack mutts who destroyed his life. He walked out of the building and joined a group of fellow travelers waiting for the bus. With a hiss and plumes of smoke, the bus halted in front of the crowd. The bus driver began packing the passengers' luggage while the bus attendant checked their tickets before they entered the bus.

With a last glance stolen, Jason reached up for the bus' handle bar and hoisted himself into the bus.

Here goes nothing.