I'm glad you guys like this idea! I think it's super fun and it's nice to have the pressure of a novel-length fic off.

Per Cuppa's request, I'm going to move onto FIRE. Most people know how much I love BrOTP Sterek.

FIRE.

When he gets the call, it's two in the morning.

Without even looking up from his pillow, Stiles reaches out to grab the phone on his dresser. He answers with a resounding, "Whoever this is, I hate you so much right now." The words come out garbled and barely understandable.

There's a hesitation and it's enough for Stiles to bolt upright in bed, willing the sleepiness to fall away. "Stiles… fire…"

As soon as the first strangled word is out, Stiles already flops (well, falls, but no one needs to know that) out of bed in search for his shoes. He reaches in the dark, smacking his head against his desk, his arm reaching under his chair. "Who is it? What is it? Who is this?"

"Stiles, it's Kira," Kira's light voice rarely darkens, but when it does, he knows it's serious. "They didn't want me to call you, but you can handle fire and—"

"Who didn't want to call me?" Stiles exclaims, a little more outraged than is probably necessary. "Because I'm gonna – no, not important right now. I'll yell at them later. Where are you?"

"The forest. Scott says he can hear yelling – it's camping season, Stiles. He says he can hear kids."

That's all he needs. He knows where the camping grounds are and he's sure the fire can lead him in the right direction. He's going to kill Scott.

Because it has to be him. Stiles doesn't like to talk about his emissary training – he hides the fact that he had to be sedated for hours to simply get the tattoos that went along with it – mainly because he's sure it makes people uncomfortable. It weirds him out a little bit and he's doing it. He can't imagine what goes on through other people's heads. So he keeps it to himself unless absolutely necessary.

But he needs to have a conversation with Scott. If he thinks that claws are going to be able to fight the fire, he's seriously deranged. He bolts out of the house with his shoes untied (he can tie them as he drives – he's done it before), jumping into Roscoe and peeling out in the driveway.

The fog on his car is difficult to see past, but he swipes at one of his tattoos, causing it to dissipate. His chest tightens a bit and he lets out a heavy breath. He chastises himself for making himself tired before he gets to the fire, but he tells himself he needs to make it to the fire alive to help.

Finding it isn't challenging. The smoke billows over the trees and Stiles pulls his Jeep at a trailhead, a small amount of fear clutching his chest. He's grateful he's alone because in these moments, he's allowed to be scared. He tells himself whenever he's around wolves and kitsunes, he has to be ready for anything. He can't show them he's scared, because then there's one more reason he shouldn't go with them. But he sucks in a breath, ignores the fact that his flesh won't heal from burns like those he runs with, steels himself, and sprints into the forest.

He can hear sirens in the distance. Kira wouldn't have called him unless it was absolutely necessary (he can't see her standing up to Scott ever, so he'll have to buy her coffee as a thank you tomorrow), so he knows the kids don't have a lot of time. He pushes his body faster, the sound of crackling branches making him flinch.

The heat makes itself known and every logical part of him tells him that he should turn around. But he sprints until the heat is suffocating and he can see the flames blanketing the trees. A few people stand before it and he knows Scott's probably trying to come up with a plan. Seriously, they should've just called him. Damn pack would be lost without him.

He sprints toward where they all are and someone groans. Surprisingly, it's not Scott. Scott, on the other hand, looks a little shocked, but more relieved. "What is he doing here?" Derek snaps, his eyes flashing and a little more wild than Stiles likes. "I specifically said that he should not be called!"

"You are the one who didn't want me here?" Stiles shouts. "I thought it was Scott!"

Scott frowns. "I would always want you with me."

Stiles smiles. "Aw, thanks man."

"Can you guys do that later?" Malia asks, staring at them like they were insane. "Because in case you've forgotten, there's a fire."

Stiles snorts. "Okay, here's what I'm thinking—"

"No, you shouldn't be here." Derek snaps, putting his arm up to block Stiles' chest, like he's about to sprint into the forest. "It's too dangerous."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Because going into the fire for you guys is like a walk in the park, I forgot." He says, pushing Derek's arm aside. "Because you are imperious to fire."

And then he stops.

There's more to his potential rant – there's always more – but once he says the word 'fire' directed at Derek, it occurs to him. Stiles shuts his eyes.

It won't stop him from participating. No, of course not. But he wishes he had a better brain-to-mouth filter.

"It'll be fine, Derek." Stiles says softly.

"Again, seriously, there's a fire." Malia states, waving her arms at the trees ablaze. "You can ask each other out later."

Stiles tries to throw Malia a look that says something like 'this is serious and now employ the human tact we always talk about,' but he knows it would be lost on anyone, especially Malia.

"Humans died in the fire too, Stiles." Derek mutters. "They all did."

Stiles feels his resolve slipping, but he has to steel himself against it. Kids could die too. Taking a deep breath, he assures, "It'll be fine because we're all together. And I'll be more of an emissary support anyways. The fire doesn't seem to be too terrible. I can smother it a bit while you guys go in. I'll hang back here." Derek visibly relaxes at that. "And I'll do my best to keep the fire as small as possible."

Scott nods. "Alright, sounds good to me. We gotta get out of there quick before the Fire Department comes, so we don't draw any attention. We'll meet back here. Okay?"

Everyone nods, stepping back to let Stiles approach the fire. He does so, only stopping to put his hand on Derek and whisper, "It'll be okay. Be sure to be safe."

Rolling up his sleeves, Stiles takes a deep breath. He brings his hands up and opens his eyes. He feels the electricity running through his veins and he thinks of the tattoos on his shoulders. He knows they're probably glowing, but he can't worry about what the people behind him anymore.

The fire feels like it's licking his palms. It hurts a bit, but he tells himself that it'll be over soon.

"Come on, let's move quickly." He hears Scott say behind him and a flurry of movement rushes past him.

He feels a hand press against his tattoos and thinks someone may murmur something to him. But he's too far gone to know who it is.

As soon as he's alone, he feels the pressure of the fire. It's sweltering and it makes him feel a little weak at the knees, but he presses on. The smoke seems to fill his lungs and the fire feels like it's touching his skin, but he tells himself it's just the Spark. The Spark tends to drain him, but if he lets go, the fire would come back with a vengeance to everyone inside.

But he feels people run past him and he thinks he's hearing crying. His hands are shaking and he knows he can't hold it up much longer. He feels the Spark slipping from his grasp. He tumbles to his knees, darkness circling the corners of his eyes. He feels someone pull him up and the Spark finally slips away.

"Dude, dude, you okay?" A far away voice asks.

Stiles blinks a few times and Scott comes into focus, his face covered in soot and worry. "Everyone get out?" He asks, wincing when he realizes his words come out a little slurred.

Scott helps him to his feet and gives him a once over. But he doesn't answer the question. Actually, he's avoiding his eyes. "Scott, who's still in there?"

"I'm going after him now, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Oh God, it's Derek, isn't it?" Stiles groans, pushing Scott off of him and looking at the fire. The flames are higher, brighter, and more menacing than he remembers them ever being. "Shit, Scott, look at the fire, it's even worse than before I started. You'll never make it out!"

Scott looks at the kids behind him, their eyes terrified and filled with tears. "Stiles, they have a sister. That's probably where Derek is. I can't just leave him!"

"Well, obviously!" Stiles growls. "I'm going in after him!"

Scott's eyes widen and he runs in front of him, pressing a hand to his chest. "Dude, no." Scott says. "First of all, you're the human one here. Second of all, Derek would kill me."

"Scott, even you can't survive that." Stiles says, gesturing at the fire. "But I can. I can suppress it and get Derek and the girl out of there."

"You almost passed out just now!" Scott cries. "You can't do that!"

"I nearly passed out because I was smothering the whole thing to keep you safe. I can keep myself safe." Stiles says. "You're the Alpha, you have to protect everyone here. I swear, I wouldn't do this unless I knew I could come back."

"Yes you would!"

"Well, yes I would," Stiles groans. "But you know in this one case – if it comes down to me and you, I'm the one who has a better chance of making it out!"

Scott stares at him, his eyes flashing red and then going back to normal. "God!" He shouts, his yell resonating in the woods. "You get ten minutes and then I'm coming after you."

"Fair enough." Stiles says, clapping a hand on Scott's shoulder.

He sprints into the flames, pulling the Spark out in him. It feels like he's scraping his insides bare, but he can't feel the fire, so he thinks it's a success. He tells himself he just has to find Derek and leave and it's the only thing that's keeping him going.

He takes a chance and shouts, "Derek!"

He feels his Spark waver, but it holds. The heat on his back increases, but he pushes forward. One more time, he tries, "Derek!"

"Stiles?"

Stiles could cry with relief.

He looks around and sees a crumpled form in surrounded by flames. Stiles runs over to him, wraps his hands around his shoulders, flinching back when he sees a tuft of black hair underneath his forearms. He hides his eyes.

"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Derek shouts. His words are mangled and Stiles knows it's through fangs. "Why would you do this?"

"I'm not leaving you here to die, are you kidding?" Stiles cries.

He places his palms on Derek's shoulders, closing his eyes. With every piece of his Spark still alit, he expands it outward so it encompasses Derek and the child. He isn't sure what they're supposed to do now. His legs tingle and he's positive he can't stand up, let alone walk out of there.

So they stay like that for a while, waiting for Stiles' legs to stop tingling.

They don't stop, but it gets manageable. "Okay," Stiles breathes heavily. "I think I can move us out now. Derek, can you grab her?"

"Stiles," the word is rough and in pain. "it's okay."

"It's not okay," Stiles says through gritted teeth, trying to get to his feet. He can feel the fire against his back. He knows they need to get out. And now. "We are not dying in a freaking fire. You are not dying in a freaking fire. We're getting out."

Derek holds the child close. "It's my fault. I-I froze."

"That's not your fault," Stiles says, wincing at the fire. "It's 100% understandable and you and I are going to discuss this at a later date."

Derek's eyes widen. "Oh, right."

Stiles pushes him forward. "Just, let me put my hands on your shoulders. Don't move fast enough for me to let go, otherwise my cover will break."

"Okay."

"I got you."

Derek stills. "Okay."

So the two make their way through the fire step by step. Stiles feels himself slipping unconscious, but every once and a while, he catches sight of the small child passed out in Derek's arms, and wills himself a little further.

Shouts come from ahead, but Stiles can't really see any further. His hands are slipping from Derek's shoulders as he steps closer. He can feel the fire on him, but he tells himself it isn't there. But it is. There's smoke. There's pain.

There are flames.

"Oh my God, you did it," Stiles hears Derek say, but it sounds so distant. "You got us out."

Thank God. Stiles can let go.

But he can't feel his hands. He thinks they fall from Derek's shoulders but he can't be sure.

People are shouting. It's really, really loud and he doesn't know how to make it stop.

It feels like the fire's still on him.

He falls to the ground – or someone pushes him to the ground – and then something covers him. It feels like when he was little and his mother tucked him in.

If he's tucked in, he may as well go to sleep then.

XXX

By the time the Sheriff gets there, it seems like the whole pack is in disarray. Scott's huddled over a crumpled form. The Sheriff knows. He knows before he goes over there that it's going to be his son.

Sprinting over, he goes to see Scott clutching his son's hand, black veins snaking up his arm. "What happened?" The Sheriff asks, panic hitting him.

"He's an idiot!" Derek screams from a few feet away, his body singed and tense.

Scott doesn't look up. "Derek's having a hard time." He mutters, wincing as he draws more pain. "He has a thing with fire."

"I do not have a thing with—" he cuts off before he says the words. "I have a thing with Stiles being a reckless moron!"

The Sheriff feels like getting his gun out and shooting into the air, but he instead decides to shout, "What is going on?"

"He overextended himself and his back caught on fire briefly. My mom is getting some burn cream, but she says he'll be fine. He's unconscious from using too much of his Spark."

The Sheriff frowns. "So he's okay? Like, everything alright?"

"Obviously, he's not okay!" Derek bellows. "He has burns on his back from being a complete – ugh!" He exhales and then walks a bit away.

Scott sighs. "He's fine. Deaton says he's dumb for pushing himself this far and he'll have to change his bandages for a while, but it should be fine. It was more scary than everything."

"Okay," the Sheriff says. "I hate this, but I have to go talk with the parents of the kids in the forest. Are you sure Stiles is alright."

Scott nods. "He's been checked by Deaton and my mom. He isn't even in that much pain, I just want to feel useful."

The Sheriff smiles. "You're such a great kid, Scott. I recommend you go talk to Derek before he punches a tree down."

Scott laughs, taking his hand off of Stiles. "You're right. Thanks."

"No problem!" The Sheriff yells as he walks off.

Scott gets to his feet, motioning to Kira to stay with Stiles. He marches to where Derek is, his arms crossed and his jaw tight. "Derek," Scott says, standing next to him.

"Don't."

"Derek," Scott starts again. "It's okay."

"I know."

"Derek," Scott says firmly. "It's okay."

"Please stop."

Scott places a hand on his forearm. "You never should've been put in this position. You never should've had to face fire again. He was just protecting you."

"I said stop, Scott."

"He would do it again. He would run into fire for you. We all would."

"Scott."

"Derek, it's okay. We're all safe."

He doesn't respond this time.

"We're all safe. We made it out of the fire. We're all safe. It's okay."

Derek bows his head, his gaze peeking at the streams of water extinguishing the flames.

"It's okay."

A/N: I love doing these! This one kinda got away from me. I didn't expect it to be so angsty.

If you have any ideas for future one-shots, let me know!

Please leave a review if you have the time! Much love!