Chapter 12(Memories)

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"...The spirits... they're cryptic little creatures, but they're all saying the same thing."

The Sheriff gulped and whispered out, "What are they saying?"

"That Mieczyslaw Mikaelson will be the end of us all."

Third-person's POV

Noah Stilinski dropped his head into his hands and sighed. 

"I love Miec, Noah, I do, but... something's telling me that I might regret this... after he turns 10 our lives... will never be normal."

"Claud, you're always telling me that 'normal' is overrated. 'Sides, I think you'll be an amazing mother."

"My wife, Claudia... she said the same thing," Noah said, trying to ignore the hurt that came with saying her name. Lydia's eyebrows shot up. "Claud, she had a spark. A spark is a type of witchcraft that didn't need any incantations. The magic just came so... naturally to her; like breathing." He furrowed his eyebrows and cleared his throat, looking out the window. "She wanted Miec to stay with us, but she was... wary about it."

Noah remembered. 

He remembered when Claudia would be rocking a cooing Miec-no, Stiles in her arms and she'd look out the window, deep in thought with her mouth pursed and her eyes dark in misery. 

He remembered watching her hug Stiles a little too tight on his tenth birthday, he had watched as a single tear fell down her cheek and-

"Mommy? Are you crying? Why're you crying?" 

"No reason, baby, no reason at all, I just... am really happy."

He remembered how she threw her head back and laughed when Stiles ran and pulled her through the playground telling her, "Mommy, Mommy, look, that's Scott! I met him in the sandbox yestewday! Scott this is my mom! She's weally cool, and she makes the best bwonies." 

He remembered when Claudia got sick and she looked at Stiles like he was a monster, telling him he was a murderer, that Stiles was going to kill them.

"Sheriff... you don't think the spirits could be right, do you?" Lydia asked hesitatingly. The Sheriff, she thought, would know, after all.

Noah didn't have to contemplate the question. He already knew the answer.

Noah knew, from the stories that Miec and Claudia had warily shared with him, that misfortune and death would always follow Mikaelsons around.

The answer was yes, Noah was sure.

He was sure that the spirits were right. That Claudia was right.

He hadn't believed it when Claudia was still alive, nor a few years after. His resolve had only started to give in in the past few years. Noah had seen the way Miec started to withdraw from him, from his friends. He'd seen the way Miec would be hungrier more often, drinking four bags of blood a day—way more than an Original vampire had to—and whenever he'd been with the pack, he'd be chomping down curly fries, chips, an apple, anything really, just to settle his stomach.

Miec was crumbling under his lies.

The oddness had gone away the past month. Overnight Miec had seemed like his "normal" self again. In an alarming way. So much so that Noah kept a close eye on "animal killings", aka blood-drained victims to see if they would pop up.

Then, of course, Kol died, and Noah has barely talked to Miec since then. Miec had insisted that he be left alone.

"No, Lydia." Lie, Noah's mind sang in Stiles' five-year-old voice. 

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