_____
After the Nogitsune posses Stiles, he left.
He left everything and everyone behind to visit his cousin in Mystic Falls.
But it wasn't for a regular family reunion, no, he wanted chaos and Mystic Falls was his next stop.
Stiles fights the hold...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
***
Stiles stood still. "What did you do?" He asked. This times without the panic and volume in his voice.
"I gave you a sanctuary. Free of the Nogitsune," Klaus said as he walked closer. Stiles stared at him. "This is just a dream, your own safety net until I find a way to kill it."
"That wasn't your choice to make. You can't just put me to sleep and expect me to go along with your plan," Stiles argued. "You're still the enemy and your plan to become a hybrid involves people getting killed. "
Klaus stared at him for a moment, he doesn't know how long he's been asleep and he almost felt guilt for killing his cousin and aunt all in one night. Almost.
"I did what had to be done," Klaus replied.
"What the hell does that mean? What did you do?" Stiles asked forcefully.
Stiles didn't like being in the unknown. He couldn't stand it because his mind made up too many uncertain scenarios and with the things he's seen and the knowledge of the monster within Klaus, he's mind draw blood.
Stiles glared at him. "I asked what the hell did you do?" he shouted, feeling the panic claw at his throat. "Enough," Klaus hissed. Stiles brought both his hands and shoved the original as hard as he could, which caused him to go flying against a tree. Stiles heard the tree crack and stood there, surprised by the strength he had.
Klaus flashes over to him, a hand wrapped around Stiles' neck, holding him tightly against a tree. Stiles gasped.
Klaus couldn't stop the flashing of his eyes as he revealed the black veins and the red blood eyes that intertwined with the most alluring yellow. Stiles stared at them, realization coming into play. "No," he mumbled as Klaus pulled back, his eyes turning into that evil blue Stiles is familiar with.
"You did it," Stiles breathed. Klaus stared at him, stoic.
"She's dead," Stiles mumbled, sliding down the tree. He placed a hand onto his chest, feeling the pain that the thought - the reality caused. His eyes were wide open with sorrow, tears brimmed his eyes.
Klaus stared at him, guilt finally consuming him. "Stiles," he said.
"Leave me alone," Stiles whispered, hot agony consuming him whole. The ground shook and he watched as Klaus faded in and out. "Stiles," Klaus shouted before he disappeared completely.
***
Klaus pulled his hand away, feeling like he's been burned before staring down at Stiles. A tear running down his cheek. "I'm guessing it didn't go while," Stefan said.
Klaus glared at him, anger in his stare. "What did you tell him," Stefan asked.
"Nothing, he figured it out on his own," Klaus responded.
"So he doesn't know about Jenna, Damon or me," Stefan said, tilting his head in a mocking way. "Can't wait to see that."
"Any news on the werewolves?" Klaus asked, ignoring Stefan's last comment.
"Yes," Stefan said.
***
Stiles laid down on the bed, curling up in the blanket. He probably didn't need it since this place wasn't actually real but it gave him comfort.
Elena was gone, just like everyone else. Scott, Kira, Lydia, Allison, Derek, even Issac. But it's okay. If their hatred for him keeps them far away from Klaus, he is fine with that.
Laying there, doing nothing felt just as suffocating as being trapped in a deep sleep. So instead he decided to get up and walk around the mansion like compound he was in. He's seen it before, In New Orleans. But never did he enter it.
Stiles traced the M on the wall, now fulling knowing what it stands for. Mikaelson.
He walked to the kitchen, he looked around but he wasn't hungry for some reason and the food laid out is fake, to begin with. He sat on the table. It was cold, just like he expected it to be in any other place that wasn't here. He frowned. If this place was brought up by Klaus and controlled by Stiles, what else can he do? He closed his eyes and imagines snow. In California, snow is as strange as it is in the desert. But Stiles always dreamed of it ever since he went to New York when he was little.
He remembers how happy everyone was. Scott was still his best friend, his mother was still alive and his father didn't have to deal with the sorrow her death and the supernatural world brought. Stiles opened his eyes and looked outside the window. Snowflakes started to fall and the snow outside looked just as it did back then. Glimmering and divine in the eyes of a child.
Stiles opened the window and felt the breeze on his face. He smiled with tears in his eyes.
If he could conjure up snow, how could do the same for a person but he couldn't do it. It was too painful to see her face again. To see their faces. He walked up the stairs. He wouldn't go outside just yet. He doesn't know how long he'll last in this sleep.
Soon, everything will become dull and repetitive.
He walked passed an opened door. He stopped at the doorway. He has passed it before but that was on his way to his room. He can tell by the painting and the silk red sheets that it had been someones.
Stiles walked in, glancing around. It was cold in here due to the snow. Stiles climbed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was slightly different than the rest of the compound. The only thing is the painting that was scattered along the walls of the room. The paint hasn't gotten on the hardwood floors but the easel was a different story. It looked like the paint has gotten on it through all forms of emotion. The splattered red and orange told a tale of an angered man with no mercy. The somewhat straight line told another tale of the carelessness of the person. He imagined the man lost in a trance, painting whatever his heart desired.
It was through Stiles' eyes that he had decided that the room was Klaus Mikaelson's. The elegance and the tragedy captured within these walls showed him what Klaus might have been like if he was human. Stiles sighed.
He trusted the hybrid and in the end, it screwed him over. His cousin was dead and he had no idea as to how Damon was doing. Was he dead? Stefan? How was Jeremy doing?
He wanted to believe that Bonnie and Caroline were alive and grieving. He needs to believe it.
Klaus was many things, including a murdered and with that thought, Stiles' anger grew.
***
GUESS WHOS BACK, BACK. STILESSS
I'VE FOUND INSPIRATION FOR THIS STORY THROUGH FREAKING KLAUS' DEATH. I MISS HIM SO MUCH. I WATCHED LEGACIES AND ITS REALLY GOOD. LIKE I LOVE JOSIE, LIZZIE, AND HOPE (MORE JOSIE *heart eyes*)
