He was walking around a hallway. He knew that was what they were called. The lockers were closed, the moonlight creating shadows that came across his face. Henrik turned his head towards the end of the hallway. What was he looking for? Why was he here? He had been in a forest before this with a man with a bandaged face, grinning at him. He had started running the moment he saw those razor sharp teeth. He had never seen him before, but his entire form was telling him to run. To run in protect his mind, protect his new life and identity.
Stiles was the primary side of him. Henrik himself would fade away in time, well his existence at least. The memories would stay, but part of his soul would always be there with Stiles. He smiled softly as he continued walking.
When Stiles was five, Henrik had woken up from whatever catatonic state he was in. He had started remembering the night he died over and over again and that had caused the younger boy to have nightmares. Although the treatments that they went through had been able to keep the memories and Henrik's own essence away for years, he was still there. It was the little things. He had caused Stiles to get more into the lore of various mystical creatures once Scott McCall had been bitten. He saw the bond between them, the brotherly bond they shared and it was just as strong as his and Nik's had been.
The rest of the pack reminded him of his family as well.
In Jackson, he saw a bit of Kol; cocky and playful. In Isaac, he saw the shy side of Kol, the sarcastic side of him. With Boyd he saw Elijah, quiet, the moral one of the group. Erica he saw his sister, but he also saw Rebekah in Lydia. Both were beautiful, warm and compassionate. He had a strong urge to protect Lydia. He loved her, not as much as Stiles did. Stiles had an adult type of love for her; he was willing to give up his chances of love for the redhead as long as she was happy.
In the Hales, he saw various things.
Peter was not to be trusted. He reminded him of his father-power hungry and in need to have control. He also saw a bit of his mother in him as well. A need to always be right and some form of balance.
Cora was like Bekah as well. Stubborn and headstrong but there was nothing else aside from that.
As for Derek, he saw someone who would always protect Stiles. A friend, a confidante, and more important, he saw a lover. The two were so blind to the bond between them. The love they shared would only grow and Henrik wanted to be around long enough to see that. And to help Stiles unlock his own potential.
Bonnie and Lydia could only do so much.
They would be able to help Stiles access his own power but also some of Henrik's.
The young man sighed and walked towards the doors leaning to the pool. Flashes came to him of the night Stiles and Derek were trapped in the pool. He had almost resurfaced to save them when Stiles had done it himself. He had to give it to his primary side. The boy was strong and he was very much the glue that held the pack together.
Erica, Isaac and Boyd clung to him, Jackson would do the same once he rejoined the pack. Allison and Lydia were his friends and they were protect him. Scott was his brother in all but blood. There was no way he wasn't going to be apart of his best friend's life.
The door to the lacrosse field opened and he stepped out onto it. He frowned at what he found sitting there.
Hunched over the bleachers, head buried in between his legs was Stiles. He walked closer towards him and he head him muttering to himself.
"We all have one, but we don't lose it. We all have one but he don't lose it."
Frowning, Henrik stepped closer. "Stiles?" he called. Frightened brown eyes looked up at him.
"How?" he asked.
Henrik suddenly knew how this looked to the boy. Another Stiles, dressed in the same hoodie, wrinkled band tee, jeans and sneakers with dark circles under his eyes and bed hair, stood in front of him. The only difference between them was the accent Henrik retained from his time in the New World all those years ago.
"How did..." Stiles moved back, fear in his eyes.
"Stiles, it's okay. I'm.." he paused. How could he phrase it?
"Why do you look like me?" asked Stiles.
"Because I am you." Henrik answered, his eyes soft with understanding. "You and I are one and the same."
"And so is he," Stiles said looking over Henrik's shoulder. A dark chuckle sent a chill down Henrik's spine. He moved to turn around and stilled. A second Stiles stood there, the same facial expression on his face; one of shock. But it soon morphed into a sinister smile.
"We can't all be in control," said the third.
"Who are you?" Henrik asked.
"The void," spoke the third as he stepped forward. "The dark one, the one who will have so much fun messing with their heads."
"Don't."
"Why?" he titled his head to the side, curious. "Is is because of Nik? Oh yes, I know all about our siblings. I've always known. Ever since Stiles over there started remembering. The Nemeton was kind enough to let me out and seep into his skin. He has such a good balance. Strife, loneliness, chaos. It's delicious."
"You touch him..."
"There won't be a need for that. I'll be in control for as long as I can. Playing Stiles is easy," grinned the third. "Oh and before I forget, I am the Nogistune."
Henrik rushed for him and then gasped when he and Stiles were suddenly placed in a class room. The door slammed shut and the bolt locking was one that echoed in his mind. He rushed for the door and tried to open it. It wouldn't budge. The young witch growled and tried again.
"No!" he cried after a few more tries.
They were trapped.
His eyes opened and he looked over at the pack members. Scott was speaking in hushed tones with Jackson and Lydia. Allison, Boyd, Isaac and Melissa were sitting in chairs. The first to notice he was awake was John. The Sheriff made his way over the boy and hugged him, not carrying about the others, never noticing the small smile on the boy's face wasn't from relief or happiness to see his father.
The Nogitsune smiled. "I'm fine dad," he told him. John smiled in relief.
"I'm glad."
This was going to be too easy.