Trigger warning: suicide .
Also, any them/they in italics refers to Stiles+Nogitsune
Oliver tried everything, but nothing worked.
He tried getting over the issue that was clearly ruining his life, or ignoring it but it always backfired and he ended up thinking more about it, it got to the point where he developed an uncontrollable obsession with flies. Oliver became obsessed with them, collected them, aligned them, admired them then ate them religiously. And hoped with each one choked down that he would once again, meet them. Because he realized that it was the first unusual thing that has happened to him before he met Stiles, so it was only logical that he could meet him again if he managed to successfully recreate all of that night's events!
He couldn't get a roommate though, for some reason neither Nurse Fitch nor Miss Morrell agreed to allowing him another one, taking for excuse the one he tried to attack. "But I never attacked Stiles!" he so desperately tried to argue against them with no avail because they answered with "you attacked Malia and you broke into the basement!" to which he had no reasonable explanation for.
Miss Morrell noticed that he stopped using his sketchbook and when she asked him about it, he gave a brief speech about him taking over a new secret hobby, he was careful to being vague, then also thankful because Morrell only pushed him once, and they've long since established that he didn't respond well to pressure.
He also tried blending in with the other patients, trying to convince someone, anyone into becoming his roommate, or at least his friend, but the fact that most of them firmly believed that they were Jesus Christ or hated him truly didn't help.
Oliver asked miss Morrell and Malia (though the latter never forgave him) about whether or not Stiles was still alive and to say he cried for most of the night for learning that he was just saying the cold hard truth. It wasn't even a Monday and he already wanted to die.
He tried everything he could to cope and yet nothing worked in keeping him sane and grounded just enough for Stiles to come back.
Because Stiles never came back. Not even to visit.
And Oliver knew that he was very alive, somewhere outside of the facility, with his friends and family, being all happy and cheerful, probably completely forgetting his existence.
Stiles might forget, but Oliver knew that they wouldn't. They would never...
They promised!
But then again, they weren't here either were they? It was just Oliver, and the tiny countable steps that separated him for meeting death from the asylum's rooftop, where the stars gazed down at him sadly and the air suddenly became heavy.
Oliver realized with great difficulty of breathing that he could die even if he didn't physically jump, if the wind gave him a playful push, or if his clumsiness started to act out or if he just twitched in the slightest way he could fall and he would die even if he didn't want to.
But... he did want to, right? Otherwise he wouldn't be standing here contemplating the jump, wouldn't have planned the whole escape through the roof plan, or the alternative plan, if he doesn't die that is...
Now that he stood on the brink of his world, just a slip would be his death.
Part of him wanted to just stand there and wait for a year or two until they appeared to save him and take him away.
Another part fiercely argued and demanded for some dignity to shine through, how more pathetic can one get until it was too much?
Oliver opened his teary eyes and forced them again to look up at the star riddled sky above, he thought of all the people that would miss him.
How would they react?
He was gonna fall, he could feel himself swaying ever so slightly over the edge, he expected it to be quick after that but thought about others nevertheless.
All the Jesuses would try to revive him, it should be a funny thought, that his death would bring back the sanity to many others once they realize that they're not Jesus, as if he's insanity in itself, but it isn't.
Nurse Fitch would look after his fly collection (after he tells her that it's down in the basement) and bring in another patient to replace him, he would wear his clothes, sleep in his place and hang out with the other patients but he will never know what truly happened. And if they ever came back, that patient would not be chosen because Oliver was the only one fit for that quest; they didn't choose Mary, they didn't choose Brunski, or Morell or Nurse Fitch. They chose Oliver!
And maybe this is his revenge after all, he's letting them down though, wouldn't they be angry? would he care?
what a hilarious question, of course he would!
Isn't he just dying for them? Isn't he dying because he cannot see them again?!
But... Oliver realized in shock that death really wasn't supposed to take that long.
He wasn't dying anymore.
He wasn't falling, he's still on the roof. He's alive!
There was warmth in his chest, relief, because the thought of cutting his train of thoughts by a single jump seemed terrifying, he wanted to hug whoever was holding him right now, even if it was Brunski. Even if he knew how empty he'll feel afterwards, the moment was to cherish.
"Hi Oliver."
Oliver turned around so violently he started feeling light headed afterwards, when his vision focused he saw the best thing his eyes could have ever witnessed that night.
It- Stiles... them!
"Come with me." He said and Oliver didn't hesitate one bit.
They walked out through the front door, passing guards and doctors in different stages of death, Oliver saw people who refused to help him on the floor, he heard cries of help as well but wasn't he just about to die himself?
They walked for a while after that, Eichen House now far behind, Oliver tried to start conversations that got shut down quickly until they reached an isolated area where they stopped.
"Dan, Hilary, Miss Morrell... Nurse Fitch..."
The lake would've been a beautiful scene to watch this time at night, that is if they weren't standing there in the middle of the night, while it was too cold to not wear a coat, and while Oliver listened in fear and anticipation to Stiles, who looked and sounded so much older than his appearance would suggest, and it was so much them and not Stiles alone that it made Oliver relax a bit, though not completely yet.
"Do you consider them your friends?" he asked, curiosity just a pinch in his tone, the rest was challenge, or mockery, Oliver preferred challenge because he knows that he's no challenge.
"Y-Yes" he stuttered, mostly from the cold but he couldn't deny he was still afraid.
"And friends do that to each other?" He continued, Oliver's teeth started chattering faster.
"N-No."
"Then they aren't your friends, kono kichigai. They're just imposters." He said matter of fact.
"They... are?" Oliver asked, unsure.
"Yes."
"Now, Oliver" they slowly paced around him, Oliver fought the urge to follow him with his eyes "Do you really want to be free? to never be lonely anymore? to... be powerful?"
"Yes." He answered almost immediately because he has never been more sure of anything more than this in his entire life.
"Then I will make it come true." Stiles nodded mostly to himself.
"H-how?" he stuttered again, hesitation sticking to him like a shadow.
"Satsui no hado" they swished it like a secret against his ear. Oliver unwillingly flinched.
"sit down."
Oliver did, the mud was wet and he realized that it had started raining for sometime now.
Stiles knelt beside him.
"We'll see how much you really want that." and with that he ducked his head into the water.
At first, he fought. He fought because it stang a bit like betrayal, like someone else had let him down, like after all this time he still meant nothing to them.
But then, as the urge to breathe became stronger, and Oliver became weaker, those feelings soon subsided, as if realizing that his lungs' need for air was stronger than any temporary emotion.
It was interesting, how priorities changed so quickly.
Let's see how bad you really want it.
He wants it so bad, he'd do anything not to come back to his older life, to that rat hole he once considered home, no one really liked him there, not like them. He was willing to kill anyone, anything right now just to not go back in there.
He would do so much more than kill to not be lonely again.
That's when excuses didn't matter anymore.
He was dying and freezing in a lake?
He wasn't strong enough?
It didn't matter anymore, Oliver started fighting again, but this time he was driven with so much more than instinct or a simple emotion.
He fought harder than he'd ever done, he didn't care that water was now filling most of his lungs, how he couldn't hear anything anymore or how violently his arms thrashed. All he cared about was winning.
A few seconds before the windows to his soul shut down, he was pulled up, he thrashed a bit more before finally giving up.
What was going on?
As he rested on the mud that was now gold in his eyes, and wheezed so violently his chest hurt, they spoke to him in what sounded a lot like victory:
"You'll be powerful."
And it happened.
When Oliver finally gave in to the darkness he became someone new.
Or rather... something new.
An Oni with a sword, a soldier for his lord, he needn't fear the darkness no more for he controlled the shadows around him and could see through the souls of others, except -of course- for his master, the one he served, the one who was always so kind for keeping him company, he could teleport anywhere at any moment and was ready to fight to death for every second of his waking, though he developed a cold detachment from the world in general, lost some of his enthusiasm for living but change always came with a price, didn't it?
There were others like him as well, other oni, Oliver often wondered what their story might be, and if they looked like him behind their masks, just innocent teenagers that were once so lost and lonely, but now hid behind the mask of demons of destruction.
He once had the audacity to take off the mask for one of them. To uncover the truth, to know what really hid there and why it it did, but it was empty.
There was no one there.
Oliver then... understood, he put the mask gently back on and reveled in the way he didn't even feel sad anymore.
He just understood.