? POV
Sitting upwards slowly, they gave their new toes a little wiggle and their new neck a crack as they tried to get used to having a body again, so many limbs, so many muscles. Being a formless mass of energy was certainly much easier. But then again, having a body had its advantages….
Eyes snapping towards the kitchen they grinned before leaping up to their feet, swaying only slightly as they assimilated to the sudden shift in position before setting off, one step steadily in front of the other. The muscle memory of walking was rapidly coming back to them, it helped of course that the teenager had such a similar stature and build to themselves when they were alive, it was almost like slipping into a well-worn pair of breeches.
Bounding excitedly up to the kitchen island they plucked a particularly juicy looking red apple out of a crystal fruit bowl and bit into it with vigour, sweet juices spilling past their lips to dribble down their chin as they hummed in sheer delight.
They had forgotten how good food tasted!
Wiping absently at their now sticky chin they grabbed another apple and placed it into the pocket of their hoodie for later, after all, 258 years of being dead made a person very very hungry. Hell, maybe they'd even try one of those modern food establishments, a Taco Bell! Or Wendy's! From what they observed they were quite popular with the American populace. Storing this little idea away for a later they headed towards the bedroom intent on searching for anything which could help them with their goal.
Bringing Nicholas back to life.
Stiles' POV
Music was playing. Soft, and classical, with sweet notes plucked expertly from violin strings combining beautifully with a melodious sound of a piano. Hundreds of wax candles twinkled like little stars, their glow held up by ornate sconces fixed along the pillars separating each arch in the ballroom's towering walls. On one side the arches housed paintings and statues of all kinds, and on the other, they held large windows overseeing the grounds. Spaced evenly across a rich hand painted ceiling hung two magnificent crystal and gold chandeliers, with even more candles held within their opulent grasp. Bodies danced underneath the heavenly light, feet sweeping across smooth stone flooring with practised ease as silks and velvet material of all shapes and colours twirled and twisted whilst dozens of men and women stepped and turned just out of each other's grasp.
It was a truly breathtaking sight.
But they had only one thing on their mind, or one person so to say. Gaze sweeping desperately across the expanse of the ballroom, they expertly avoided the stares of the various young women lining the sides, perfect faces and pretty dresses hoping to catch their attention, an endeavour which proved futile. They were almost ready to give up their search when suddenly, a flash of deep crimson fabric embroidered in the most delicate of golden threads caught their eye, and their heart began to beat fast, stomach fluttering in anticipation.
They only knew one man who would be bold enough to wear such a grand colour.
Like a puppet on a string, they began to weave through the crowd, mumbling quiet apologies as they rushed to catch up with the rapidly disappearing figure, pausing only once as they lost sight for a brief heart-stopping second. A second which seemed to last a lifetime until the movement of red caught their eye once again, a figure slipping through a large wooden door back into the mansion's sprawling hallways. Following obediently they strode down the familiar layout of their childhood home, white leather dress shoes slapping against the polished surface. Servants flittered to a fro, kept busy from the large event occurring within the ballroom, an event they really shouldn't be staying from….
Selfishly pushing that niggling voice aside they followed their heart, blazing a determined trail down the grand staircase the royal purple silk fabric of their lavishly tailored justaucorps trailing behind dramatically. Biting their lip they swallowed back a smile as they realised where they were being led.
Into the garden.
Following the cobblestoned path down into the twisting green hedges they travelled deeper and deeper into the maze, the lanterns hanging on wrought iron poles lighting the way as the stars above hid underneath rolling clouds. It was cold, bitter air stinging their face and fingertips, turning the flesh a sore shade of red, but they paid no mind. Finally, they reached the centre, the light grey gazebo with its domed roof coming into view, a familiar meeting place, and just as they thought, the man they'd been searching for all evening stood at the centre, back facing them. Cautiously stepping forward they spoke up, voice breathless with barely hidden excitement as it travelled through the late winter night.
"I was beginning to think you wouldn't come"
The figure turned, finally allowing them the honour of gazing upon the striking blue eyes they had grown to love so much. "Would you find it in your heart to blame me if I hadn't?" Nicholas asked in reply as they found their feet climbing the stone steps, themselves drawing closer to the other man in a move as natural as breathing. A weak laugh fell from their lips, words of honesty following suit "I fear if it came down to it, I would find my heart incapable of blaming you for anything Nick". Trailing their fingers along the freezing surface of one of the stone pillars they tried to ignore how their palm tingled with the urge to take Nick's hand in theirs.
Air from their lips frosted outwards, a silver puff of smoke escaping into the night as they came to a stop in front of the older man, temptingly close, but just out of reach, poetic, and just like the dance back at the ballroom.
"Shouldn't you be inside? Tonight is after all, entirely for you" in an unexpectedly hostile move Nicholas rose a single cold brow in their direction. Swallowing down the intense confusion at their lover's attitude, they lifted one shoulder upwards and shrugged, speaking with a nonchalant tone "I should think it's such a big event that even I, the guest of honour, will not be missed for a while".
Nick's expression darkened considerably, hands clasped behind his back as he gazed down upon them like a disapproving parent "and what happens when your father grows weary of your childish games? Surely even you understand that there are only so many balls a young wealthy man such as yourself can leave empty-handed from before certain suspicions are drawn".
Neck and cheeks flushing with embarrassment at being talked down to in such a manner, they felt their eyes grow slightly wet, chest aching with the insinuation that they were not taking their own situation seriously. As if they hadn't already spent many sleepless nights mourning the inevitable loss of the life they loved, the loss of their freedom. Contrary to the older man's tone, they weren't a child ignorant to the injustices of life because of their privileged upbringing, and now, as they approach their 18th year of life, forced to begin courting for the inevitable marriage to a woman they will never truly love, they were even more aware of the unfairness.
Blinking back tears, they clenched their hands into two tight fists at their sides as they hissed angrily through clenched teeth, bristling with offence at the accusations in Nick's words. "Do you honestly think me foolish enough to be blind to my own fate? Because I can assure you, Nicholas, I am more than aware that my time of freedom is growing shorter and shorter each day!". The evening was not progressing how they intended at all, instead of sweet whispers of love and gentle caresses stolen in the dead of night, they were confronted with this unfamiliar and vicious side of their beloved.
And they weren't sure they liked it.
Nicholas seemed even more disappointed at their answer and they couldn't help the swell of shame that arose in response, it was almost embarrassing how easily the older man could make them feel petulant with a simple look. The feeling of shame only worsened when Nicholas began speaking, a harsh laugh flavouring his tone "forgive me for believing that there was even a small chance that you were merely being naive about this entire thing. I'm afraid the idea of you willingly going along with your father's grand scheme just struck me as such an absurd notion. Seems I was wrong".
Tilting their chin upwards defiantly they curled their lip in anger as they snapped "I'm afraid not all of us are blessed with a life devoid of any form of responsibility Nicholas! I have a family, I have duties! I cannot simply run off with you and abandon it all because I am unhappy with the idea of doing what is expected of me by taking a wife and settling down".
With that said they turned on their heel and began walking away, stubbornly ignoring the voice calling out to them in fury and desperation.
"Henry! HENRY! DO NOT WALK AWAY FROM ME! YOU CAN NOT WALK AWAY FROM THIS, FROM WHO YOU ARE! DO YOU HEAR ME?! YOU'LL NEVER BE HAPPY"
The scenery in the dream started to fade, blurring at the edges like an impressionist painting before dripping and melting into black. The ground fell out beneath them and they began to plummet, a scream tearing its way out of their throat.
? POV
Ridiculous, absolutely unbelievable.
An entire apartment owned by a 1000 year old Warlock and not ONE fucking book on resurrection, not even a chapter in a book! Gripping their hair in frustration they chewed their lip in a vain attempt to prevent the scream building in their chest from ripping forth.
Their time was running short, the early morning sunlight already starting to stream through the windows into the Warlock's bedroom as the stirrings of Stiles' conscious rippled across their senses with increasing intensity. Standing up they gave a vicious kick at the open chest in front of them in anger, Nicholas had kept anything of importance in that chest, spellbooks included, if there wasn't a spellbook on resurrection in there then odds are the Warlock didn't have one.
Instinctively ware that with every passing second Stiles was drawing himself closer to the surface and thus drawing himself closer to discovering his wonderful little Voice wasn't all that it seemed to be, they headed back to the couch, leaving the mess behind them. Silently fuming over their rotten luck they settled into position and sighed heavily, ready to loosen their grip and let the Spark back into the driver's seat.
And then it hit them.
There was still one book they hadn't looked through, the book Nicholas used on Stiles! If ever there was a book which could hold the answers they needed to resurrect the Warlock then surely that was it! Grinning in excitement at their revelation they began forming a plan, all they had to do was convince the teen to go back to the lakeside and retrieve the book.
Simple.
Stiles' POV
Groaning loudly Stiles brought a hand up to his face and scrubbed tiredly at his still closed eyelids as he pushed himself upwards with the other arm. Spine cracking and popping stiffly at the movement the teen finally blinked open his eyes reluctantly.
Jesus, he bemoaned to himself mentally. It feels like he never slept at all. Glancing wearily out at the window Stiles sighed tiredly at the beautiful morning sunshine before deciding to get up and take a shower. Knees cracking as he straightened up he let out another groan as he stretched his arms above his head and bent his spine slightly backwards, trying to force out the lingering soreness in his muscles.
THUD
Blinking in confusion Stiles froze mid-stretch, gaze dropping to the red apple which rolled slowly along the floor beside his feet. Eyebrows scrunched the teen bent down and plucked the fruit up from its position lying on the hardwood with a small "huh".
He didn't remember putting an apple in his hoodie pocket the night before.
Rubbing the ruby flesh with his thumb in deep consideration Stiles shook his head, deciding he was still far too exhausted to contemplate the mysteries of random pieces of food appearing in his clothing. Taking a bite Stiles slowly ate the apple whilst walking around the apartment in an attempt to locate a second bathroom, he really didn't want to shower in the one attached to Nick's bedroom, too many memories.
All the while, it didn't even occur to him to question the absence of the Voice in his head.