burned ➷ stiles stilinski [1]

21. forgotten souls

LONGER UPDATE BECAUSE YOU'VE WAITED TOO LONG FOR THIS

GOING TO EDIT AFTERWARDS TOO :)

listen to: youth - daughter

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After our little conversation, Jennifer no longer had to drag me everywhere she went. I kept to myself and stayed silent, following her through the Beacon Hills Hospital like a lost puppy.

Her words were right. After all the death and grief I had suffered through my horribly long life, my heart had grown used to the darkness that shrouded it. But no matter how many times I tried to convince myself, I couldn't get it out of my head that I was no better than Jennifer herself. I had never killed innocent bystanders, no, but I had killed plenty of supernatural creatures. Not to mention the humans that decided to join some of those creatures' armies that lost their lives to my hands as well.

I was a paradox in the flesh; I was born to protect, but to protect I must kill, and to those I protected, killing was a sin.

I was made to protect and destroy.

But this time, in Beacon Hills, I was unleashed into a different era: one where the pack I was protecting was used to Death. I had been given a new life, a new identity by the power of the Nemeton in this town - for a reason. And that reason was to protect Scott and Derek's pack.

Now was not the time to grieve for the lives that I've taken in the past.

"Blaise, can you pick up a scent to see where the group is at?" Jennifer asked. We stood in an abandoned hallway. The emergency backup lights flickered throughout, causing an eerie glow to be cast among us.

"I can try." Closing my eyes, I focused on the one scent that I was most familiar with. Thankfully, his scent wasn't too far away. "This way," I said, and started to make my way through the empty hallways.

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Jennifer didn't stop me when I walked at least ten yards ahead of her. She and I both knew that even if I tried to run from her, she would just make me vomit up the black poison in my bloodstream. And I wasn't in the mood to be weak again.

My ears picked up on multiple hushed voices coming from behind a pair of blue double doors. I didn't even hesitate to push them open and walk into the conversation going on between Stiles and Derek.

"-so my dad, Cora, and Blaise are all dead!" he snapped at the Alpha, his hands balling up into fists by his side.

It saddened me that he thought I was going to die, but I shook the feeling off. Instead, I got the boy's attention.

"Stiles."

He turned away from Derek, his face contorting from an expression of hatred and fear to a look of love and relief.

"Blaise," was all he said before he crashed into me, wrapping his arms around my torso. I was startled at first, my arms stiff by my sides, but I eventually relaxed into his embrace. He held on to me so tightly that it was a little painful, though I didn't say anything.

"And where have you been? Scheming with Jennifer?"

I broke away from Stiles' embrace to see Peter Hale looking at me with judgmental eyes. Ugly, boring, judgmental eyes, to be exact.

"Have you forgotten who is the stronger one between us, Peter?" I asked, a small smirk tugging at my lips. "It seems that you don't remember how old I am." At that, he backed off, focusing on his dying niece once again.

I averted my gaze to Cora as well, who lay on a metal slab, her temperature rising and breaths quickening. She looked horrible to say the least. I suddenly grew self-conscious, wondering if I looked the same.