Stiles

An entire day passed without more information. Everyone within the walls of the Mikaelson compound wandered aimlessly, waiting for a call from Marcel.

Freya and Kol busied themselves with an intricate tracking spell that had yet to be successful. Elijah played chess with Rebekah. They took so long between turns that Stiles knew their minds weren't in the game. Hayley gazed out the parlor's window, looking down at the street below with a blank expression.

Klaus paced. A lot.

The atmosphere was heavy, like a cold rain that soaked through skin and bone. Stiles could feel a sort of film encasing him in his own guilt. He continued to replay the last moments he saw Hope. Her limbs dangled from a criminal's arms while he just watched it all happen. The last time he heard her was when she screamed from the torment of inhaling wolfsbane. At that moment, being a human wasn't a burden.

It was a tragedy.

Stiles happened to catch Rebekah's eyes and offered a tight, listless smile. She returned it with more tenderness than he thought a Mikaelson could conjure.

"You know it isn't your fault, Stiles," Rebekah broke the silence in a gentle tone, "If Hope couldn't hold them off, you certainly wouldn't have."

Nodding his head, Stiles puffed out a soft sigh "Yeah...that's what I tell myself, but..." he slowly shook his head, brows furrowed, "It doesn't change the outcome."

Klaus continued to pace. From the bookcase, stopping to look at the litter of ornate knick-knacks and back to the window by Hayley.

"He should have called by now," he huffed, "Why hasn't he called."

"Patience, Niklaus." Elijah tried in a calmed voice, but Stiles had a hunch he was actually raging inside.

Hayley ran her fingers through her hair, sighing softly. "It's been a full twenty-four hours of nothing. We need to do something..." she turned to look at them from the window's view. Stiles realized she'd actually been staring at her own reflection. Something he noticed Hope often did.

"What if..." Stiles began but was stopped by a steely glare that belonged to Klaus, who evidently was not interested in his opinion. A cold shiver wiggled its way down his spine.

"Ignore him," Rebekah shook her head, "All thoughts are welcome."

Stiles pursed his lips and nodded. "I'm just saying, Derek went to the diner where she first found the hunters. He was looking for clues about where they may have taken her, but I don't think he checked her house. They stormed it. Maybe they weren't as careful as they thought. Maybe they left something behind."

Klaus moved a little closer, eyes narrowing. "Who's Derek?"

Eyes widening just a little, mouth agape, Stiles slowly shook his head. "N-no one..." he pursed his lips into a thin line. Feeling the blood drain from his face.

"Let's go then," Hayley said, standing. Stiles was so thankful for the sudden change of subject. "Even if she's not there, at least we will be on the move. I can't just...sit here anymore waiting for a phone call."

Elijah glanced around, meeting everyone's eyes, and slowly nodded. "I suppose splitting our forces to cover more ground isn't the worst idea." He turned to Stiles, "This Derek has gone to the diner? I think it will be worth a check over by one of our own, to ensure nothing is missed....Rebekah," he turned to her now, "I would like you to accompany Stiles to the diner, please. Kol and Freya can remain here, continuing the tracking spell. If Hope were to escape, there's a possibility she'd come back here, and we don't want her arriving at an empty building..." he met his brothers' eyes, "Niklaus, Hayley, and I will travel to Beacon Hills and search the house for any additional evidence. All this can be accomplished as we wait for a call from Marcel." He looked over everyone's expressions. "Are we all in agreement?"

Everyone agreed. The family would be parting ways to give Hope the best chance of survival.