Word: Pyrophoric
…
Stiles has an ability that he's hidden from everyone. At first, it was to keep it his little secret because he didn't think anyone would react well to the things he could do, and it kinda made him feel like he was in Harry Potter. Then, when he was older, Scott was bitten and werewolveshappened, and there never really seemed to be a good time to mention his little ability. Later, after he learned the truth about Kate and the Hales, Stiles felt sick to his stomach and couldn't tell anyone, especially not with Derek in hearing distance. He couldn't bring himself to use his ability, pushing it as far down inside of himself as possible and trying to avoid it like an unwanted situation. That's when the nogitsune possessed him, and for a long time afterwards, Stiles didn't trust himself to try to use his ability again. All in all, it's almost six years after Scott was bitten before Stiles can bring himself to use his ability again, and when he does, it's accidental.
He's with Derek, and they're chasing an actual yeti through the preserve. The creature's brought an unnatural winter to Beacon Hills in the middle of summer and despite Scott's initial attempt to reason with it, they've discovered that the yeti is animalistic and barbaric with no way to reason with it effectively. The only thing Deaton could suggest was to drive it away as a group. Which has somehow led to Stiles running through the forest while wearing at least four layers of clothes, and he's pissed because he's been looking forward to seeing Derek in a pair of swimming shorts ever since last summer. Lydia's waiting up ahead with Parrish, Liam and Malia are trying to keep the yeti on a path with Scott and Kira on the opposite side. Mason's waiting with Danny at the yeti pit they all spent the last day digging as an alternate plan (they'd both chosen to get the bite and go hairy every full moon; Stiles was surprised Danny had come back from Hawaii at all after everything with Ethan) because they all appreciate a backup plan after the thing with the kappas.
The yeti finally comes upon Lydia and Parrish, and they throw an assortment of incendiary devices at the creature, trying to herd it further across the Beacon Hills border to where Deaton and the Sheriff are waiting to send it back to its own land in Greenland, or Iceland - just somewhere cold that isn't their hometown, Stiles doesn't care so long as it's gone. The collection of incendiary things don't seem to do much more than irritate the yeti, and they don't explode properly on impact either. Lydia lets a scream loose which has the unfortunate side-affect of disorientating all of them. Stiles was blocked by the thick stature of the yeti and recovers quicker than his friends. The yeti seems stunned and angry, which is a seriously bad combination. It's stumbling a bit, and then seems to set its sight right on Derek. Stiles can't let that happen, refuses to let it happen, and he doesn't even have to think or concentrate, just throws out a hand and it works. Like the air itself is pyrophoric, a string of flames stretch out between his hand and the yeti. It's startled by the heat and fire - just like Lydia had theorised the mini Molotov cocktails would do - and the yeti lets out a pained roar, stumbling further out of the preserve and towards Deaton and the Sheriff.
Stiles ignores the curious and confused expressions coming from his friends and follows the yeti, intent on making sure his father's all right through all of this. It's not the first time they've worked together since he found out the truth about werewolves, but it never stops Stiles from worrying. The others know this, and he doubts they'll question him until this whole thing's over. Scott lets out a howl for Mason and Danny to join them, and within a matter of minutes, all of them are standing together, watching as Deaton chants something, the Sheriff holding something that looks vaguely bloody and is possibly an intestine of some sort. Stiles shudders, tries not to gag, and turns his face into Derek's shoulder. Derek wraps an arm around his shoulders without hesitation, which releases some of Stiles' tension that he hadn't even realised he'd had.
There's a cheer from the others when the yeti finally disappears, and Stiles sighs in relief into Derek's henley when he can feel the summer sun shining down on them, the clouds dispersing abruptly. Stiles glances over to his father, glad he's okay, and grateful that whatever he was holding is gone as well.
"Stiles. You have some explaining to do!" Lydia demands, even as starts stripping out of her thermal lined jacket, beanie and earmuffs.
"What happened?" the Sheriff asks immediately, striding over as he pulls his own beanie off, pulling Stiles out of Derek's grasp to check him over.
Stiles sighs and tries to minimise the amount of eye-rolling because he's done something similar to his father in the past and he'd hate to add hypocrite to the list of his flaws.
"You know that thing I could do as a kid and Ma always said I was her bright iskra?" (Spark, Polish)
It takes the Sheriff a moment to remember what Stiles is referring to, and his eyes widen in surprise. "You said it went away after Claudia died."
Stiles gives a slightly nervous smile. "Honestly, I said a lot after Ma died, Dad. Um… Surprise?"
"It's been… Stiles, it's been such a long time. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" the Sheriff asks, sounding a little wounded, and Stiles winces.
"Yeah, Stiles. Why didn't you tell any of us sooner?" Malia mimics, arms crossed as she glowers.
"Malia!" Derek snaps, glaring with bright blue eyes, and she backs down reluctantly, arms dropping to her sides.
Stiles is a little surprised at Derek's response, but doesn't know if he snapped at Malia because he was trying to be supportive or he wanted to snap at Stiles and Malia was in the line of fire.
"I didn't tell you because I didn't want it anymore. I didn't want it after Ma died, I didn't want to be a freak, or ostracised any more than I already was, so I did what I always do: I shoved it to the side and pretended it never existed! Then, it was just never a good time to bring it up, so I just … didn't. I mean, with Scott becoming a werewolf, I could've done it, but he already had enough on his plate, then there was the kanima and Lydia being a banshee, and the Alpha pack, the Darach, the nogitsune… Then there was the whole thing with the Hales and fire, and I swear I haven't even thought about my płomień in years, but Derek was… I couldn't… It was going to hurt him, and I refused to let that happen," Stiles says firmly. (Flame, Polish)
He doesn't regret it for a second, and he won't let the others try to guilt him into feeling guilty for saving Derek.
There's a brief silence, as if they're all internally deciding what to do or say in response, and Stiles lets out an undignified squawk when he's turned and tugged back abruptly. He relaxes slightly when he finds himself landing against Derek's chest, Derek's arms wrapping around him firmly, Stiles' own hands kind of squished between their chests.
"Thank you, Stiles," Derek murmurs, his voice rumbling and reverberating against him.
"We'll see you back at the house, okay?" Scott says with a soft sigh, realising that they're probably not going to stop hugging for a while.
"We're going to talk more about this ability of yours later, Stiles," Lydia adds firmly, her tone leaving no room for discussion.
Stiles would wave her off if he could, but he's really comfortable where he is, and he knows from experience that Derek probably won't let go of him anytime soon.
"I'd like a demonstration for myself, if you're willing," Deaton says, patting Stiles on the back before leaving with the others.
There's another sigh that makes Stiles realise they're still not alone left, and he opens his eyes to look at his father standing beside them. The Sheriff seems to be watching them, searching for something, and Stiles wonders if he finds it.
"Stay safe and look out for each other, all right?" the Sheriff finally says, patting them both on the shoulders.
"What do you think we've been doing for the last six years, Dad?" Stiles mutters, snorting.
"We will, sir," Derek replies seriously, nodding at him.
"Good. Don't keep the others waiting too long, they'll want a demonstration sooner rather than later," the Sheriff adds, leaving them alone.
There's a brief moment of peace and quiet bliss, and Stiles buries his head into the crook of Derek's neck.
"Der? I'm actually kind of boiling in this," Stiles murmurs reluctantly.
There's a surprised laugh in response, then Derek pulls away from Stiles to kiss him briefly and help rid him of his winter jackets.
"You're okay with this, Der?" Stiles asks when he's shed his layers and feels somewhat normal again.
Derek nods firmly. "You'd know if I wasn't, Stiles. It was a surprise, but it makes sense. I just never thought your spark would be quite so literal."
Stiles grins when Derek takes his hand, guiding Stiles back through the preserve to his Jeep.
"We could go to the loft, y'know. Make our spark even more literal," he suggests, waggling his eyebrows.
Derek groans, head tilting back as he mutters about strength. "I'm in love with an idiot."
"Yeah, you are," Stiles replies with a grin, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. "But then, so am I."
Derek's responding blush is still adorable, even after two years together, and Stiles holds his hand a little tighter as they continue through the preserve, so glad Derek's still alive and his to love.
…
End of word challenge.
Thanks for reading!
