Stiles is a Mikaelson(Rewritten)

Chapter 49

Previously on

Stiles is a Mikaelson

Stiles's Pov

Damon chuckled, stretching his arms behind his head. "Yeah. But hey, first time-out was a success."

I snorted. "We failed as parents."

"Nah," Damon said, nudging me. "We survived. That's a win in my book."

I smiled, leaning into him. "Yeah. I guess it is."

As much as the day had been absolute hell, there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

Just me, Damon, and our three tiny menaces.

God help us all.

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Damon's Pov

March 22nd, 2020

I woke up feeling like absolute garbage.

For a second, I thought I was still dreaming. That weightless, disoriented feeling hung over me, like I was floating between sleep and consciousness. But then reality hit like a freight train—my stomach lurched, a hot wave of nausea rolling through me so fast that I barely had time to react.

I groaned, rolling onto my side, pressing my forehead into the pillow as if that would somehow ground me. The room was still dark, only the faintest glow of early morning light seeping in through the curtains.

Great. Just great.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to will away the sick feeling, but my body wasn't having it. Another wave of nausea crashed over me, twisting my stomach into a tight, miserable knot.

Okay, what the hell?

I was a vampire. I didn't get sick. I had never gotten sick in my life. The last time I even felt remotely human-level ill was back when I was still actually human. And that was—what? Over a century ago?

I groaned again, rubbing my hands down my face. Maybe it was the hunger. I hadn't had any real blood since before lockdown started, and while I was used to rationing, I had never gone this long without feeding properly. I had been trying to keep it together, trying to stretch out the last blood bags we had, because God knew when we'd be able to get more. I had been fine at first, just a little tired, but now?

Now, I felt like I'd been run over by a damn truck.

I swallowed hard, fighting another wave of nausea, and debated whether or not I could actually make it to the bathroom without waking up Stiles.

Spoiler alert: I failed.

"Mmm... what's wrong?" Stiles mumbled beside me, his voice thick with sleep.

I hadn't even realized I'd been shifting restlessly, my body tense as I curled in on myself.

"Nothing," I lied.

Stiles made a sleepy, skeptical noise and blindly reached for me, his hand landing somewhere on my chest before sliding up to cup my face. His thumb brushed along my cheek, and I could feel his warmth, grounding and familiar.

"You're lying," he said, voice still rough with sleep. "And you never lie about being fine."

Damn it.

I sighed, my body shivering slightly as another wave of nausea twisted my stomach. "I just... don't feel great," I admitted, my voice quieter than usual.