: noneGenre and/or Pairing
: AU, Greek Mythology, No PairingSpoilers
: Claudia's Death SceneWord Count
: Erobus - personification of darkness, born of Chaos (primeval void, first thing that existed)Summary
: There is chaos and insanity in his mother's mouth, Stiles thinks, spilling from her cracked lips, but it feels right, these words. They burn in the pit of him.
Stiles watches his mother die.
It ends when he’s eight; it starts when he’s born.
She tells him in the hospital, uses the last of her breath and gestures with frail, shaking hands as he sits beside her.
“Gods,” she says, and her voice cracks, dry and arid like a desert on a distant planet. “Ask anyone, and they will say we are made in a God’s image. This is not true.” Stiles thinks his mother might be mad. She is erratic in her words, erratic in her actions, but she’s his mother. He listens. “We make Gods in our own image. Like you.” She caresses his cheek with thin, sharp fingernails.
“I am no god-bearer, but you…” She takes her hand in his, holds it to where her heart beats softly in her chest. “You are something, something not of this world, but you are mine and I created you. There is power inside of you; darkness and death and blood.”
There is chaos and insanity in his mother’s mouth, Stiles thinks, spilling from her cracked lips, but it feels right, these words. They burn in the pit of him.
“I was nothing when I bore you, and now I am nothing again,” she says. “I gave you the name of a father I never had because it is your name, and yours alone.” She leans back in her bed and closes her eyes, breathes softly in the stillness. “It is time.”
Stiles touches his fingertips to the inside of her thin wrist and listens to her heart slow. The monitor beeps with every beat until it flatlines. He stays there, staring at the void of his mother, until the nurses usher him out of the room, down the hall, into the waiting room.
Stiles doesn’t cry.
Crossposted on AO3