Klaus's POV

The ride back to my place felt longer than usual, with Stacy slumped against the passenger seat, her breathing heavy, her makeup streaked with tears and smudged from the night.

The alcohol had knocked her out completely, her head tilted to the side, her hair falling across her face in messy waves. She looked utterly different from the sharp, poised woman I was used to seeing.

Tonight, she was vulnerable, broken, and far too deep in her own pain to even put up the walls that usually guarded her.

Elijah drove quietly, glancing at me a few times as if gauging whether or not to ask questions. Thankfully, he didn't. I wasn't in the mood for explaining anything.

Stacy's current state was something that went beyond a casual night of partying, and I had a feeling she wouldn't want anyone knowing about it.

We'd gone to the club to blow off some steam, but things had spiraled out of control. I had dealt with her drunken banter, held her up when her legs threatened to give out, and watched her stumble through the haze of intoxication.

But there had been something deeper than just alcohol in her system tonight. Her words had been slurred, nonsensical, like she was trying to drown something far more painful than anyone realized.

When I saw the first cracks in her armor, the tears she quickly wiped away when she thought no one was looking, I knew it wasn't just about drinking.

Stacy was running—running from something that hurt more than she could handle alone. Watching her like this, slumped and unconscious, made something twist inside of me.

"Do you want me to stay?" Elijah asked as we pulled up in front of my house.

"No," I said, glancing at him. "I've got it. I'll call you tomorrow."

Elijah nodded, giving me a brief look of understanding before turning his attention back to the road. "Take care of her."

I didn't respond, opening the passenger door and carefully pulling Stacy out of the car. Her body was limp in my arms, and the scent of alcohol clung to her like a second skin.

As I carried her toward the front door, her head rested against my chest, and for a moment, I couldn't help but notice how different she seemed from the fierce, untouchable assassin everyone feared.

With a bit of fumbling, I managed to unlock the door and step inside, the house silent and dark. Stacy stirred only slightly in my arms, mumbling something incoherent before falling silent again. She was completely out of it, and I wasn't sure when—or if—she would wake up tonight.

I carried her through the house, making my way toward the bedroom. Her body was warm and soft in my arms, a far cry from the lethal force I knew her to be. She'd been so tightly wound lately, her edges sharper than usual. Now, she looked like a porcelain doll—fragile, breakable. And something about that image sent an unsettling feeling through me.

When I reached my bedroom, I laid her down gently on the bed, her hair spilling across the pillow in tangled waves. She looked peaceful in her sleep, but there were faint tear tracks on her cheeks, a reminder of whatever pain had driven her to drink herself into oblivion tonight. The tough assassin facade was gone, and all that was left was the broken woman underneath.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I watched her. Stacy was stubborn—she didn't let people in easily, and she sure as hell didn't let anyone see her vulnerable. If she woke up now, she'd probably be furious, but I couldn't leave her like this. She needed care, whether she would admit it or not.

I headed toward the small drawer beside the bed, pulling out a washcloth. After soaking it in warm water, I returned to her side and carefully wiped away the remnants of her smudged makeup. Her skin was soft beneath my fingers, and I found myself pausing more than once, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. There was something calming about the quietness of the moment—something intimate.

With her face clean, I moved to her hands, wiping away the dirt and sweat that clung to her skin. She shifted slightly in her sleep, her body curling inward as if seeking warmth. I pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it around her shoulders before stepping back. For the first time in a long while, she looked at peace.

I debated staying, but the smell of the club still clung to me, and I needed to clear my head. Quietly, I slipped into the bathroom, leaving the door cracked open just in case she woke. The hot spray of the shower was a welcome relief, washing away the tension of the night. But as I stood under the water, my mind kept drifting back to Stacy—to the pain she was hiding behind that tough exterior.

There was more to her story, more than she let on. The cracks I'd seen tonight were a glimpse of the weight she carried—something that went far beyond what any normal person could bear.

As I finished the shower, I heard a soft sound from the bedroom. I froze, listening carefully.

A whimper.

I shut off the water, grabbing a towel and quickly drying myself off. Another sound—this time a soft cry—reached my ears, and I felt a knot form in my stomach. Stacy was having a nightmare. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and rushed back into the bedroom.

Stacy's POV

The darkness was everywhere. It suffocated me, pressing in on all sides, so thick I couldn't breathe. I was running, but my legs felt like they were stuck in mud, my body weighed down by something invisible yet crushing. My heart pounded in my chest, fear gripping me so tightly I thought I might explode from the pressure.

Behind me, there were voices—cold, mocking, a cruel reminder of a past I could never escape.

"You think you can hide from this?" The voice laughed, sharp and cutting. "You think you can forget?"

I stumbled, falling hard onto my knees. My hands hit the ground, and I tried to push myself up, but the weight was unbearable. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

"No..." I gasped, but the word came out strangled, barely audible.

Something cold wrapped around my ankles, pulling me back into the darkness. I screamed, thrashing against the invisible hands that held me captive, but no one could hear me. No one ever heard.

"You're weak. You always were."

The words sliced through me, my chest tightening as panic exploded inside of me. I couldn't get away. I couldn't fight it. My breath came in short, ragged gasps, and the world around me blurred, fading into a suffocating blackness.

Niklaus's POV

Stacy was thrashing in her sleep, her hands gripping the sheets so tightly that her knuckles were white. Her breath came in short, panicked bursts, her face twisted in fear. She was trapped in whatever nightmare had hold of her, and it was tearing her apart.

I moved quickly, crouching beside the bed and reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Stacy," I said softly, shaking her gently. "Stacy, wake up. It's just a dream."

She whimpered, her body trembling violently as she gasped for air. Her hands clawed at the sheets, her legs kicking as if she were trying to escape something.

"Stacy, wake up!" I shook her a little harder this time, my voice firm but gentle. "You're safe. You're here with me."

Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. For a moment, she didn't seem to recognize me, her gaze darting around the room in confusion. Then, slowly, her eyes met mine, and I saw the fear still lingering there—raw, unfiltered, and all-consuming.

She was gasping, her hands clutching the blanket as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded. I watched as her breathing became more erratic, the terror in her eyes deepening.

"Stacy," I said gently, moving closer, "you're okay. You're safe."

But she wasn't hearing me. She was spiraling, the panic attack gripping her so tightly I could see the strain in her entire body.

"I... I can't breathe," she choked out, her voice barely a whisper, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her chest. "I can't..."

"Yes, you can," I said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into my chest. "You need to breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth."

She shook her head, her body shaking uncontrollably as she gasped for air. Her breath hitched in her throat, and she clutched at my arms, her nails digging into my skin as if she were trying to anchor herself.

I held her tighter, my voice steady but soft. "Just breathe, Angel. You're safe. You're with me."

It took a while—long, agonizing minutes of guiding her through each breath—but slowly, her body began to relax. Her breathing evened out, her grip on me loosening slightly as she came down from the edge of the panic attack. I could feel the exhaustion in her muscles as she sagged against me, her chest still rising and falling quickly, but more controlled now.

She was fragile, more fragile than I'd ever seen her, and it twisted something deep inside me. Stacy, the woman who never let anyone see her weaknesses, was trembling in my arms, completely undone.

I brushed a hand through her hair, murmuring soft reassurances as I held her close. "It's okay," I whispered. "You're okay now."

For a long time, she didn't say anything. She just stayed there, curled up against me, her face buried in my chest as she tried to pull herself together. I could feel her heart still racing beneath my hand, but it was slowing, calming as the terror ebbed away.

Then, so softly I almost didn't hear it, she whispered, "Nik."

The name hit me like a punch to the gut.

No one called me that anymore. Not since... well, not since a long time ago. It was a name that belonged to a different time, a different version of myself that I had buried. It was a name that reminded me of things I'd tried to forget—of a vulnerability I'd long since locked away.

But hearing it now, from her, in this moment, felt different.

I didn't correct her. I didn't flinch. Instead, I pulled her closer, resting my chin on top of her head as I closed my eyes. "Yeah, Angel," I murmured, my voice low and rough. "I'm here."

Stacy didn't say anything after that. She just stayed there, curled against me, as if my presence alone could ward off the darkness that had haunted her dreams. And for a while, I let her.

Time skip

The house was quiet, save for the sound of Stacy's steady breathing as she lay curled up in my bed. After the panic attack, she had fallen into a deep, exhausted sleep, her body finally giving in to the toll the nightmare had taken on her. I had stayed by her side the entire time, watching over her, my mind still reeling from the sound of my old nickname on her lips.

Nik.

No one had called me that in years. Not since I had built the walls around myself, locking away the part of me that was vulnerable, that cared too much. It was a name tied to a past I had buried deep, a time when I had let people in, only to be burned in the process.

Hearing it now, from Stacy of all people, stirred something inside me that I hadn't felt in a long time.

The way she had said it—soft, broken, like she was reaching out to me in her most vulnerable state—it wasn't just a name. It was a plea for comfort, for safety, for something more than just the stoic, distant version of myself that I showed the world.

For so long, I had been "Klaus"—the cold, calculated leader who didn't let anyone get too close. But hearing her call me "Nik" reminded me that I wasn't always that person. Once, I had been someone different. Someone who had cared deeply, who had loved fiercely. And for some reason, in this moment, with Stacy lying in my arms, I found myself wanting to be that person again.

I watched her sleep, her face finally peaceful, the tension that had gripped her earlier now gone. She looked so fragile, so vulnerable, and it made me realize just how much she had been holding in. Stacy was strong—stronger than most people—but even the strongest needed someone to lean on.

And maybe, just maybe, she was leaning on me now.

The weight of that realization settled heavily on my chest, and I couldn't help but wonder what it meant. For her. For me. For us.

Because no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, there was something between us—something more than just the physical connection we had shared before. Something deeper.

I wasn't sure what it was yet, but I knew one thing for certain.

When she called me Nik, it felt right.

For the first time in a long time, I didn't feel the need to hide behind the walls I had built. With her, I didn't need to be Klaus, the untouchable leader. I could be Nik—the version of myself I had long since abandoned.

And that terrified me.

But it also made me want to hold her closer, to protect her from whatever darkness had taken hold of her tonight. Because if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that Stacy didn't have to face her demons alone.

Not anymore.

Stacy's POV (Later)

I woke up slowly, the warmth of the blanket wrapped around me a welcome relief from the cold terror of my nightmare. My body ached, my head pounding from the remnants of the panic attack, but there was something comforting about the steady rise and fall of Klaus's chest beneath my cheek.

I blinked, the events of the night slowly coming back to me. The nightmare, the panic, the feeling of being utterly out of control—and Klaus, holding me, guiding me through it. He had stayed with me, his presence grounding me when I had felt like I was drowning.

For a moment, I didn't move, didn't say anything. I just stayed there, curled up against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my hand. It was a strange feeling—comfort, safety, something I wasn't used to. Something I wasn't sure how to deal with.

I hadn't meant to call him "Nik." It had slipped out, a reflex in the midst of my panic. But he hadn't corrected me. He hadn't pulled away. He had just held me tighter, as if the name meant something more than either of us was willing to admit.

And that scared me.

Because Nik wasn't just a name. It was a connection—one that went deeper than I had ever expected.

I shifted slightly, my body protesting the movement as I tried to sit up. Klaus's arm tightened around me for a moment before he slowly let go, his eyes fluttering open as he looked down at me.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. "How are you feeling?"

I didn't know how to answer that. I wasn't sure how I felt—physically or emotionally. My body still felt like it had been run over by a truck, but the panic had ebbed, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

"Better," I finally said, my voice barely audible.

Klaus studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine as if trying to gauge whether or not I was telling the truth. Then, slowly, he nodded, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face.

"You scared me," he admitted quietly.

I looked away, my chest tightening at the admission. I hadn't meant to—hadn't meant to let him see that side of me. But there was no hiding it now. He had seen the cracks, the fear, the weakness.

"I didn't mean to," I whispered.

He shook his head, his fingers gently tilting my chin up so I would meet his gaze again. "Don't," he said softly. "You don't have to apologize."

For a long moment, we just stared at each other, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. I could see the concern in his eyes, the same concern I had seen earlier when he had held me through the panic attack. And I hated it. I hated that he had seen me like that—vulnerable, broken.

But at the same time, I couldn't deny the comfort I had felt in his arms.

"Klaus," I started, but he shook his head again.

"Nik," he corrected gently.

I blinked, surprised by the correction. He hadn't said anything about the name earlier, and I had assumed he would just let it slide. But now, hearing him say it out loud—hearing him want me to call him that—it sent a strange mix of emotions through me.

"Nik," I repeated softly, the name feeling foreign on my tongue yet familiar at the same time.

He smiled faintly, his hand still resting against my cheek. "That's better."

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. The panic was gone, the nightmare a distant memory, and in this moment, with him, I felt... safe.

Maybe for the first time in a long time.

Time skip

I pulled myself together, still feeling the lingering warmth of Klaus's presence as I slid off the bed. The softness of the sheets felt like a cruel reminder of the reality waiting for me. I couldn't hide here forever, not when my brothers were probably tearing the city apart looking for me.

"I have to go home," I murmured, more to myself than to Klaus.

"You sure you're ready to face them?" His voice was low, concerned.

I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. "I don't have a choice. Enzo and Leo are probably seconds away from tracking me down. Ricc and Cesco will be all over it too. The last thing I need is them storming the city with guns blazing."

Klaus gave a faint chuckle, his eyes still watching me carefully. "It sounds like quite the mess."

"They're overprotective, that's all." I tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. The truth was, I didn't know how I was going to face them—not after the night I'd had.

My body still ached from the brutal fight I'd waged with my own mind, and my skin felt too tight, like it barely held me together. But my brothers... they couldn't see that. They didn't know the truth. They didn't know about the demons I fought in the shadows. To them, I was just their little sister, the one they needed to protect at all costs. If they knew the truth about what I'd become...

I shook my head, pushing the thought away. No. They couldn't know. I couldn't let them.

"I'll drive you back," Klaus said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.

"No," I said quickly. "I can manage. I'll get a cab."

He frowned, clearly not happy with the idea, but didn't push it. "If you're sure."

I nodded, gathering my things and slipping into my shoes. I felt like a mess, still in the clothes from last night, my hair wild, my skin pale and washed out. But I had to face my brothers. I could figure out the rest later.

Before I walked out the door, I turned back to Klaus. "Thank you," I whispered, unsure of what else to say.

His eyes softened, and for a moment, I saw something there—something more than the banter and tension we usually shared. But it was fleeting. He nodded, and I left before either of us could say anything more.

The cab ride home felt longer than usual, and with every passing minute, I could feel the weight of my brothers' worry pressing down on me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see several missed calls and frantic texts.

Enzo: Where the hell are you?

Leo: Stace, answer your phone, please!

Cesco: You better have a damn good reason for this.

Ricc: You're scaring everyone. Come home.

I sighed, my fingers hovering over the screen as I tried to think of something to say. I hated lying to them, but there was no other way. They couldn't know what had happened last night—not the truth. They had no idea about the world I was tangled up in, the underground I navigated as easily as breathing. To them, I was just Stacy—their sister, the one they had to protect. If they knew the real me, the assassin, the one who took lives without blinking... it would destroy them.

When the cab pulled up to our estate, I took a deep breath before stepping out. The heavy iron gates loomed in front of me, and I could already see the outline of one of my brothers pacing near the front door.

Here goes nothing.

I pushed open the door and stepped inside, bracing myself for the storm that was about to hit. The moment I crossed the threshold, Enzo and Leo were on me like hawks, their faces etched with worry and anger.

"Where the hell have you been?" Enzo snapped, his voice louder than usual, his Italian accent thick with emotion.

"Do you have any idea how worried we were?" Leo added, his hands on his hips as he stared at me like I'd just committed a crime.

"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound as calm as possible. "I just... needed some time."

"Some time?" Cesco's voice cut through the air as he stepped into the foyer, his eyes narrowed. "You've been gone all night, Stacy. You didn't answer your phone. Do you know what could've happened?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I know, okay? I didn't mean to worry you guys. I just... needed to get out. Clear my head."

"Clear your head?" Ricc asked, his voice softer but just as concerned. "Stace, you scared us. We were about to send out a search party."

I winced at that. "I'm sorry. Really. It won't happen again."

There was a tense silence, all of them staring at me like they were waiting for more, waiting for an explanation I couldn't give.

"I just need a shower and some sleep," I said, brushing past them before they could ask any more questions. "I'll talk to you guys later."

Once I was in my room, I locked the door behind me and let out a long, shaky breath. My phone buzzed again, this time with messages from the triplets—Lily, Noah, and Ollie. I smiled faintly, grateful for the distraction.

Lily: Where've you been, babe?

Noah: You okay?

Ollie: We missed you. Let us know when you're ready to hang.

I quickly texted them back, keeping my response vague but reassuring.

Me: I'm fine. Just had a rough night. Catch up with you guys at school?

Almost immediately, I got a response.

Lily: Of course. Take care of yourself, okay?

Noah: We'll see you tomorrow.

Ollie: We got your back, Stace.

I let out a soft breath, feeling a little lighter. At least they didn't press for details, and I knew they'd be there when I needed them.

The next morning, I forced myself out of bed, my body still aching from the mental and physical toll of the last 24 hours. But there was no avoiding school, and besides, I needed to see the triplets. They were my anchor, the only people who truly knew me—well, as much as anyone could.

I got dressed, pulling on my usual jeans and a leather jacket, throwing my hair into a messy bun before heading downstairs. My brothers were in the kitchen, talking quietly among themselves, but I slipped out before they could pull me into another interrogation.

The drive to school was quick, and when I arrived, I immediately spotted Lily, Noah, and Ollie by the entrance, waiting for me with their usual grins. Lily's blonde curls bounced as she waved excitedly, while Noah and Ollie leaned against the wall, looking effortlessly cool as always.

"Hey, stranger," Lily said, pulling me into a tight hug. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied, giving her a smile. "Just needed to clear my head."

"Tell us about it later," Ollie said with a knowing look. "We're here when you're ready."

"Thanks," I said, feeling a little less alone. It wasn't much, but at least I had them.

As we headed inside, I spotted Matteo and Elliot near the lockers, their usual banter filling the hallway. Matteo caught my eye and waved, while Elliot gave me a smirk.

"Finally decided to show up, huh?" Matteo teased, nudging me playfully.

"Had to make an entrance," I shot back, feeling a bit more like myself. But underneath it all, the weight of last night still lingered, and I knew it wouldn't be that easy to shake.

For now, though, I had my friends. And that would have to be enough.

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A/n:

Hey my loves I'm sorry abt the last a/n I was in a bad mood lol

Anyway double update cuz why not also I'm rlly sorry but I'm starting school on Tuesday so I'll be super busy with my A levels so I might only be able to update once a week!

I'm so sorry but I promise I will never give up on this book updates may just be less frequent!

Love you so soooooo soooooo much thank you for reading and don't forget to vote and comment!

WC: 4392