Being lost is okay

Mischief (8)

The past two weeks had effected Henry and Stiles quite differently.

Henry slowly began to become more and more comfortable in Neverland, surrounded by the Lost Boys. Henry knew his family would come for him but in the meantime, he figured he could have a little fun. He spent the days running through the forest with the boys and nights talking around the fire.

Stiles, on the other hand, had sunk into himself. He was lost in his own thoughts and memories. He began to eat, talk, and sleep less and less as the days passed on. He was i his own company. Henry would talk to him. Stiles listened and would reply every once and a while but for the most part he remained silent. Pan, for the most part, left him alone. Stiles was not going to complain.
Stiles was lost in his own thoughts. Stiles was sinking. Sinking in horrifying memories of his time in Beacon Hills. He remembers killing his pack, his own father, Scott's mom, Deaton.

Visions of lifeless bodies littered his mind. Allison and Aiden being stabbed by the Oni. Derek, Peter, and Cora being burned alive because the Nogistune thought it was 'ironic.' Chris, Melissa, and Deaton all being hunted down by the Oni. Necks broken. Ethan, Kira, Danny, Issac, and Jackson, all being trapped in a garbage disposal, slowly being crushed to death while the Nogistune and Stiles watched. Stiles screaming to be let out while the Nogistune just smiled. The Nogistune said it was Stiles' fault for watching too much Star Wars and giving him the idea.

But the deaths that haunted Stiles the most was Scott's, Lydia's, and his father's. "Make it stop! Please!" Scott had yelled. He remembers the Nogistune driving each of them slowly insane. The demon said it caused the most pain for both Stiles and the victims. His friends and families cries kept him up at night. Cliche' but true. He couldn't close his eyes without seeing someone he loved, dead. He had to have something going on at all times. Not just because of his ADHD but if there was silence, Stiles' ears would bleed from the Nogistune's victims.

A powerful werewolf had bitten him. Killing the Nogistune. Stiles only met her full wolf side but it kept repeating the word Red. Stiles hadn't asked any questions, he just left Beacon Hills. He left his home but he never forgot what had happened and he never will.

"No one ever tells you 'no.'" Pan's voice pulled Stiles back to reality. Stiles quickly wiped the tears off his face. "You can do whatever you want." Pan sat down next to Stiles while Henry sat on the other side of Pan. "Hello, Mischief." Stiles' face twisted.

"They never hurt themselves?" Henry asked. Pan turned his attention back to Henry.

"Oh, all of the time!" Pan laughed. "At one point, I had four boys with missing fingers. Cost of the game. They didn't mind."

"I don't belong here." Henry said.

"Actually, you do," Pan said. "Both of you do." Pan turned to Stiles but Stiles wasn't listening. "We've been waiting for you two for a very long time. Long before you both were born."

"I don't believe that," Henry said.

"You should." Pan huffs. "This place runs on imagination, on belief. But your world stopped believing. Magic is dying and you, Henry, need to save it."

"In my world, you mean," Henry said.

"In every world." Pan scoffs. "You need to bring it back. That's your destiny, to return magic, to be the savior."

"My mom, Emma, is the savior. Not me." Henry scoffed.

"Yeah. She broke some curse." Pan scoffed back.

"Yeah." Henry said, silently asking how Pan knew.

"Oh, I know more than you think." Pan smiled. "About both of you." Pan looked over to Stiles again. "But what if breaking the curse wasn't the thing that made her the savior? What if having you was?" Pan pointed to Henry. "Think about it. You," Pan pointed to Henry again. "descended from the greatest of lights. And you," Pan pointed to Stiles "the greatest of dark. You both were created for a reason. And I can help you find it."

"Why am I here?" Stiles voice broke evidence of not being used in days.

"Mischief, Mischief, Mischief..." Pan shook his head.

"Mischief?" Henry asked.

"My nickname," Stiles stated simply, not taking his eyes off the ground a few feet in front of him.

"Oh, it's much more than a nickname!" Pan smiled. "See, Henry, when Mischief was younger, he couldn't pronounce his real name. The closest thing he got was Mischief. At least, that's what his parents told him." Pan handed Henry a scroll. "I've had this for a very long time. Take a look and see why I believe."

"What did you mean, that's what my parents told me?" Stiles asked, ignoring the smart side of his mind. "Why am I here?" 

"You shall see." Pan smirked.

"I don't believe you." Henry dropped the unopened scroll to the floor.

"You both remind me of your fathers." Pan paused for dramatic effect before walking away.

"Great. Awesome! This. Is. Awesome. Peachy." Stiles grumbled to himself, sarcastically. Henry picked up the scroll and opened it. It was a sketch of Henry and Stiles sitting next to Pan. Wearing the same clothes, sitting on the exact tree trunk.

"This has to be fake," Henry announced. "Pan probably drew it, Stiles." Henry looked up. "It's fake."

"Has to be," Stiles nodded.

While the duo was busy talking, they didn't see that on the other side of the camp, Pan wore his signature smirk. Excited for the upcoming events.

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I didn't know I write something so dark. Maybe I should write a horror book. I'd probably scare myself.

Anyways! I wanted to show you all why Stiles is so scared of the Nogistune and how dark the Nogistune really is.

Do you want some other perspectives like Regina or Emma or even Pan's?

Thanks for reading, voting, commenting, and following!