Me: Currently watching America Ninja Warrior, I don't know if it's a current one or not. I dunno. It's actually just playing in the background.
Stiles: BEAT THE WALL! BEAT THE WALL!
Me: Shut up.
Stiles: YAAAAAAAAAAAA!
Me: Oh god…
Stiles: WOOOOOOOOO!
Disclaimer Here → Suppose that I missed you, suppose that I cared. And suppose that I've spent all my nights running scared and suppose that I was never there and my eyes are screaming for the sight of you and tonight I'm dreaming of all the things that we've been through and I can't hold on to you. So I guess I feel lonely, too.
3rd Person POV
It was peaceful, honestly, just sitting around with his new (dare he say it?) family. Whether or not Derek realized it he was still part of his family, he was part of it. Right now, everyone was intent on the movie. Occasionally someone would laugh at something Spock said, even Natasha let out a soft chortle. Tucking his feet under his body, leaning against Derek, Stiles tried to pay attention to the movie. Yet it was difficult, knowing that the Hunters of Artemis were out there still, knowing that Liam was somewhere out there. Maybe the Hunters had found Liam already, maybe he was dead.
An unpleasant feeling rose in his chest, stirring angrily. A shaky breath escaped his lips, turning his face into Derek's side. The feeling was similar, very similar to a feeling that he wanted to forget. There was no way he wanted it to stay. It was not coming back, he wouldn't let it. Lock it out, don't let it in.
"You okay?" Derek whispered in his ear.
Glancing over at the others, noticing how Natasha seemed to have encroached on Clint's personal space with her pillow and head on his lap and how Steve and Tony were basically cuddling with Thor and Banner just behind them. Wanda was already asleep, curled up on Clint's other side. A light tap on his nose brought him back to reality and he turned his eyes from staring at the others to Derek.
"You okay?" Derek repeated.
Completely and utterly lying, despite not saying anything, Stiles nodded and cuddled closer. Because he hadn't spoken, his heartbeat hadn't sped up, and Derek hadn't realized he lied. Nose twitching, Derek nodded in response and turned back to the movie. On the screen Spock was running through the halls, the half vulcan showing emotion for once.
Stiles knew what scene this was leading too, one that he had not been looking forward too this whole night. Even though he knew it ended well, it was a very emotional scene. While he might be compared to a teenage girl (which was very sexist by the way, and yes Stiles is a feminist) his emotions were on a rampage recently. It was very weird and he was like ninety nine point nine percent sure that it had something to do with all the stress he had been experiencing recently.
At some point everyone had migrated closer, Stiles now pressed between Derek and Tony. His uncle wrapped an arm around him, bringing him even closer. A small smile crossed his face, the feeling in his chest lessening as the saddest scene in this whole movie played. Chest tightening and throat closing up, Stiles swallowed thickly. Someone was sniffling, the others were frozen as they watched it. No matter how many times they watched this movie, though it was Thor and Steve's first time, it always hurt.
"Can they kill him?" Steve demanded.
"Welcome to the twenty first century," Tony replied shakily, "Dammit this scene gets me every time."
Stiles wasn't paying attention anymore, he knew what happened in this was the second movie series he watched the most, Star Wars being the top. This scene was one that he had watched more times than even Tony had. Trust him, he knew. JARVIS had told him.
A bit later the credits started rolling, a relieved breath escaping Stiles. Shock was covering Thor and Steve's face, before Thor started throwing praises out. A small smile crossed Stiles face, before a yawn overtook him. This was the time to escape into his room and sleep, and he took it. Slipping between Derek and Tony, Stiles crawled to the edge of the couch bed. It seemed that Wanda and Natasha would be sleeping there tonight, both of them having drifted off, and Clint didn't look like he'd make it to his bedroom.
No one seemed to notice as Stiles retreated to his room, checking on the semi-healed wounds on his body, before dressing for bed and drifting off.
**********TWM**********
Falling to the ground and knocking things over, Liam stared horrified at the mirror in front of him. What had he done? He had… he had killed. He had murdered people. Tears gathered in his eyes and he scrubbed at them angrily as they fell. Forcing the heel of his hands into his shut eyes, pressing hard enough to see stars. This was what Scott tried so hard to prevent. To prevent his own beta to get the icy blue of a murdering werewolf.
"You alright in there kid?" the nice lady asked, knocking on the door.
"I'm fine," Liam croaked, getting up shakily and returning to the tub.
Instead of standing however, he placed his head between his knees and felt the stream pound against his back. Why had he lived, out of everyone else why him. Fate despised him, letting him live only to take another's' life. Scrubbing his longer hair, it had grown out quite a bit (tickling the edge of his nose), Liam stared at the strands in front of his face, darkened with the water, dripping into the stream below.
Once done, though he wasn't truly done but the water had gotten too cold, Liam got out of the shower. Water trailed down his face, dripping to the ground from his hair. Drying himself off quickly, Liam got dressed in the clothes provided; a plain beige shirt with a red and black plaid flannel over and then a faded pair of pants. Scrubbing at his dirty blonde hair, drying it with the towel, Liam refused to even look at the mirror. The image of the icy blue eyes staring back at him lingering in the forefront of his eyes.
The lady was waiting downstairs, a cup of warm tea in her hands. But it wasn't the same lady, her hair was a dark brown now. Awkwardly Liam looked at her, waiting for some sort of cue. However she only pushed out a chair, inviting him silently. Taking the cue for what it was, Liam moved and sat down across from her. Brown eyes lifted to his own grey blue, which he would never look at the same now. Her fingers delicately tapped at the tea cup.
"I'm assuming that something extremely traumatic has happened to you," the lady said, staring at him.
"You could say that," Liam forced out.
"I'm not going to ask what it was. I do however want to know your name."
"Liam."
"Nice to meet you Liam, I'm Laura."
His nose was on high alert, but there was no sign of any mistruths here. But he wanted to know, what happened to the other lady? Laura wasn't the one that rushed him upstairs in the first place. However she seemed trustworthy, extremely trustworthy.
"What happened to the first lady?" Liam asked, looking around.
"She's just my babysitter when I'm in town or busy around the farm. However she's, sadly, used to people showing up bloody at my door," Laura said with a small smile, "She called me immediately."
She wasn't lying, "What are you going to do about me?"
"I'm assuming you don't have anywhere to go," Liam shook his head, "Then you can stay here, work around the farm, maybe watch my kids. They're in their rooms right now. I can introduce them to you."
"Are you sure?"
"I trust you Liam. My gut is telling me to trust you and I follow my gut, it's never led me wrong."
His heart swelled in his chest, the trust this woman had for him seemed real. It seemed true. And that, after everything that had happened recently (especially for him), was something that he really needed. Laura got up with a smile and left, returning moments later. In her arms was a baby, which explained the baby smell that was around the house, and two children, a boy and a girl.
"This is Nathaniel," Laura said looking at the baby in her arms.
"I'm Lila," the girl said shyly, her dark hair in braids.
"Cooper," the other boy said, holding onto Lila and hidden slightly behind his mother.
It seemed all they needed was a gentle smile to put them at ease. Almost immediately Cooper's death grip on his little sister seemed to lessen, coming out from behind his mother. It was remarkable how alike they looked to their mother, all of them had dark hair and eyes. Even if he couldn't really see Nathaniel's features yet, the little boy sleeping tiredly.
"Now, why don't we have dinner then head to bed. It's been a long day, for all of us," Laura suggested, setting a hand on her son's shoulder.
**********TWM**********
Dark, not a single light to be seen. Cold, goosebumps rising on his skin. Was he awake, was he asleep? There was no way to tell. It was impossible to see his hands, much less fingers, even from an inch away from his face. He couldn't feel anything except for the cold, the frigid cold seeping into his bones. Then, a few feet away or so, a light shone. In that light was a little girl with blonde pigtails.
Moving closer to the young girl, noticing that she looked familiar. Where he recognized her from however, escaped him. Another few steps closer to her, hesitant as to what might happen, Stiles' eyes caught sight of something red. A few steps closer something glinted in the light, metallic and shining.
"Stiiiiiiileeees," A raspy voice said.
The little girl looked horrified, holding the katana in her stomach. Blood dripped off the end. A puddle of blood pooled around her feet. Then the katana was drawn out of her body. Seconds later she dropped to the ground, dead. Lifeless bright blue eyes stared up at him hauntingly. Then, looking up, Stiles looked at the Nogitsune.
The wraps around his body, making him look like a mummy, were covered in cobwebs now. Spiderwebs connected parts of his body together, two spiders weaving a web from his under arms against his side. Dust coated his body, only the sharp pointy teeth around dead rotted flesh that used to be his mouth was without any dust. The bloody katana hung loose in his grip.
"No, you're dead. We killed you," Stiles whispered horrified.
"Yoooou caaaaaan't kiiiiiiill meeee Stiiiiiiles," the Nogitsune replied, coming closer to Stiles, "I aaam yooou."
Fearfully Stiles stepped back, eyes wide. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be true. There was no way he was Void. No way. He was good. He was clean! They had gotten rid of Void, this was a nightmare. Just a nightmare.
"Stiiiiiiles," the Nogitsune purred, coming close.
Someone took the place of the little girl on the ground. Now there was Steve, asleep in bed. Blissfully unaware of everything around him. In Stiles' hand a knife appeared, shimmering in the light. A hand curled around his wrist, keeping the knife in his hand. Then a raspy voice spoke in his ear, urging him.
"Kiiiiill hiiiim," the Nogitsune said.
"No," Stiles whispered.
"Kiiiiill."
Turning his face away from the Nogitsune, shutting his eyes tightly. But he could still see it. Still see the knife in his hand, Steve sleeping peacefully in the bed. Noticing that nothing was happening, Tony appeared next to Steve. The two were oblivious to what was happening.
"Choooooose," the Nogitsune rasped.
"I can't," Stiles whispered, tears streaming down his face and bottom lip wobbling.
"Chooooooose, or I wiiiiill," the Nogitsune replied.
"Don't, please."
The rag covered hand tightened around his wrists, forcing his arm up. Before Stiles could even think to fight back, his arm was forced down. Blood splattered on his face. The sickening squelch of the knife going through skin and muscles reached his ear. His arm was forced up and down in multiple motions, tears streaming down his face and cries falling from his lips. Blood splattered everywhere.
"Stiles! Stiles!"
Strong arms wrapped around his body and Stiles struggled. Tears fell from his face.
"No! NO!"
Stiles woke up screaming.
**********TWM**********
For some reason Derek couldn't help himself but to wander throughout New York again. It's been so long since he's been to New York, since Laura died actually. So he decided to go back to his favorite spot. Instead of it being some serene place, he went to a certain bar. It was quite a walk from the tower, but Derek honestly could care less. Being a werewolf made it so that he could go large distances in a shorter time.
The 'Please Don't Tell Bar' was a very nice and prestigious bar. What most people don't know is that there is another entrance, other than the secret entrance that leads to the main bar, that leads to a bar that all supernatural creatures can go and be themselves. Everyone was in their natural forms, or the forms most comfortable for them, and there was no discrimination.
"The Creature please," Derek said to the bartender.
Without another word the woman tapped a button underneath the bar, gesturing for him too go inside. Giving her a slight nod, Derek made his way through the secret door. Once on the other side he was greeted by a fairly familiar sight. There were a few new people behind the bar, but most of his old friends and the bartenders were still there.
"Hey Der," the female bartender said, leaning forward, "Been a while."
A small smile stretched across Derek's face and he came over to the bar, sitting across from her. Jessamine, which was the bartender's name, was a succubus and Derek was the only one that didn't immediately fall under her spell. Her hair was a dark copper color, pulled up in a very complex bun with some strands framing her oval face. Golden whiskey brown eyes stared at him through thick black eyelashes. Her dark red lips were drawn up in a smile.
"It has," Derek agreed.
"The usual?" Jessamine asked, grabbing one of the multiple liquor bottles.
Derek only nodded in response, watching Jessamine prepare his drink. In his pocket his phone buzzed and he checked it. There was a text from Natasha. But it didn't seem important, so Derek ignored it and took the drink from the succubus. Then she left him, moving on to another customer.
"I'm impressed," a male voice said from behind him, "You managed to avoid getting sucked into her allure."
Derek grunted, drinking from his glass. The alcohol burned as it cascaded down his throat. Putting the glass back down on the bar, Derek turned around to look at the person talking to him. Standing next to him was an African American male, his dark hair sheared. The boy looked uncomfortable, like he didn't feel like he belonged there.
"I'm Ashan," he introduced, "Kinda new here…"
"Derek."
"Mind if I sit?"
Derek grunted and shrugged, grabbing his freshly refilled drink and knocking it back. Next to him Ashan wrinkled his nose, eating the complimentary peanuts. It wasn't long before the peanuts were gone and Jessamine was refilling them, raising an eyebrow at Derek before smirking. Obviously Jessamine was taking it the wrong way and Derek shook his head at her.
"Is this your first time here?" Ashan asked, "No. That's a stupid question."
Derek just grunted in response, stealing a peanut.
"You don't talk a lot do you?" Ashan questioned, "Are you here with anyone?"
"Like a date?" Derek grunted, "No. But I'm not looking anyways."
"No, no!" Ashan exclaimed blushing, "I'm not. No. I just…"
Derek rolled his eyes and downed another drink, his phone buzzing again. This time multiple buzzes and Derek checked again, getting a bunch of texts at once. It meant something was terribly wrong. Very, very wrong. Quickly paying his tab Derek rushed out of the bar and back to the tower.
**********TWM**********
Pacing once again, Rebekah watched as everyone slowly trickled into the room. Azar sprawled herself on the couch, legs on top of Marina's lap. Rose and Chantel took the loveseat, the ragged patched pillow on Rose's lap and tugged close to her chest. Ryan sat on the ground at Chantel's feet. Then lastly Dyana, leaning against the wall again while examining her black painted nails. Lightly blowing on them Dyana looked up, dark painted lips quirking up in a smile as she winked at Rebekah.
"Where's Ashan?!" Rebekah demanded.
"He's doing what you asked him too," Azar replied looking unamused, picking at her dark purple nails, "Getting close to the target. Aka, backup. Derek Hale."
"Our priority is finding Liam and removing his head from his shoulders," Rebekah growled.
A small laugh escaped Azar's lips, the others looking horrified. Ryan flinched at the fury on Rebekah's face, turning away to avoid looking at her. Hand flexing around the knife in her hand, Rebekah watched Azar. The girl had really cleaned up. Even going as far to put makeup on. Dark wings with dark purple eyeshadow. Then the darkest purple lips you could imagine. Her top was a sheer lace with a black bandeau on underneath and a dark purple skater skirt, heeled black boots going up close to her knees. All in all she looked right at home.
"You think you're in charge?" Azar demanded, violet eyes glinting dangerously, "Dyana let's you entertain the idea of authority. In reality she could strike you down with a single look."
"Now. now Azar. Let her have her fun a little longer," Dyana replied, kicking herself off the wall.
"You think I'm not in authority! I'll show you!" Rebekah screeched angrily.
Azar brought up her flames, the purple flames encasing her hands. Swiftly Rebekah brought out a knife, throwing it at Azar. It stuck into her leg, digging deep in. Due to the flames being around her hands, it didn't melt as it normally would have. Azar screamed in pain and fell to the ground. Dyana's eyes narrowed, but she didn't say or do anything.
"Anyone else questioning my authority?" Rebekah demanded, looking at Dyana.
"That was hot," Dyana responded, "I think you're okay for now."
"Good. Now, let's find Liam."
Me: Someone actually died this time… whether it's Tony or Steve is up to you to mule over for a bit. Flames will fuel Azar and might end up killing Stiles as well.
Stiles: WAIT WHAT?!
Me: Oh and it'll also fuel the fire that killed Derek's parents. You might want to think about that before you choose to flame me.
Stiles: Though, you guys are really cool. No one has flamed so far.
Review Request Here → Suppose we were happy, suppose it was true
And suppose there were cold nights, but we somehow made it through and suppose that I'm nothing without you and my eyes are screaming for the sight of you and tonight I'm dreaming of all the things that we've been through and I can't hold on to you. So I guess I feel lonely, too. Slow way down, this breakdown is eating me alive and I'm tired, this fight is fighting to survive.
