Fires 04
Summary: Two micro comment-fics of angst followed by one humor in which Derek is beset by toddlers and Stiles is confused.
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Fires 04-a
“Because he’s just like his mother.” The Sheriff smiled, but Derek could sense how bittersweet any remembrance like this was for the man, could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “He’s that spark, just like she was, that sets it all off and holds everything together….They’ve always burned so bright…”
Derek takes it as the soft warning it is. Watch him, protect him, even from himself.
Those that burn twice as bright, burn half as long.
Fires 04-b
“I can’t. I can’t let you die, I can’t. You understand that?”
Stiles is looking more past Derek than at him, dragging in slow, wet breaths that barely move his chest at all. Derek’s fingers are slick and sliding in the blood that just won’t stop as he tries to grasp the boy’s face and make him look at him. Make him understand.
“So you have to keep your eyes open. You have to…or you’re going to hate me forever because I won’t let you die.”
Fires 04-c
In which Derek somehow stumbles into babysitting a few cubs from an allied pack and is completely out of his depth.
Derek just manages to get the milk out of the refrigerator and goes for the glasses when another succession of clangs and crashes echoes from the living room. Already twitching, he makes it to the archway between the rooms and just stares.
The pups have managed to knock over a bookshelf and are climbing on it, nipping at each other playfully. One pup is yowling in the corner as another pulls on his ear with her teeth. They’ve somehow managed to get play-doh and, what Derek thinks is finger paint over everything. It’s smeared on the sofa, the floor, the walls, the ceiling. A splash of color streaks across the TV too as some colorful, repetitive show plays.
And the noise, dear god the noise.
And Derek’s just had it. He can’t He just can’t.
“Shut. Up!” he yells. There’s a moment of stunned, blessed silence and a secession of all activity. In that interim, the front door opens and Stiles walks in, first to arrive for the pack meeting. His mouth is half-open like he’s about to call out to Derek, but then he looks up and does a double take.
And then everyone starts bawling.
Stiles surveys the destruction in the room and the now crying and howling pups. He turns to the seething, frustrated alpha and raises his eyebrows. The teen holds up a hand and slowly opens his mouth.
“…I have many questions.”
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Fires 04-a
“Because he’s just like his mother.” The Sheriff smiled, but Derek could sense how bittersweet any remembrance like this was for the man, could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. “He’s that spark, just like she was, that sets it all off and holds everything together….They’ve always burned so bright…”
Derek takes it as the soft warning it is. Watch him, protect him, even from himself.
Those that burn twice as bright, burn half as long.
Fires 04-b
“I can’t. I can’t let you die, I can’t. You understand that?”
Stiles is looking more past Derek than at him, dragging in slow, wet breaths that barely move his chest at all. Derek’s fingers are slick and sliding in the blood that just won’t stop as he tries to grasp the boy’s face and make him look at him. Make him understand.
“So you have to keep your eyes open. You have to…or you’re going to hate me forever because I won’t let you die.”
Fires 04-c
In which Derek somehow stumbles into babysitting a few cubs from an allied pack and is completely out of his depth.
Derek just manages to get the milk out of the refrigerator and goes for the glasses when another succession of clangs and crashes echoes from the living room. Already twitching, he makes it to the archway between the rooms and just stares.
The pups have managed to knock over a bookshelf and are climbing on it, nipping at each other playfully. One pup is yowling in the corner as another pulls on his ear with her teeth. They’ve somehow managed to get play-doh and, what Derek thinks is finger paint over everything. It’s smeared on the sofa, the floor, the walls, the ceiling. A splash of color streaks across the TV too as some colorful, repetitive show plays.
And the noise, dear god the noise.
And Derek’s just had it. He can’t He just can’t.
“Shut. Up!” he yells. There’s a moment of stunned, blessed silence and a secession of all activity. In that interim, the front door opens and Stiles walks in, first to arrive for the pack meeting. His mouth is half-open like he’s about to call out to Derek, but then he looks up and does a double take.
And then everyone starts bawling.
Stiles surveys the destruction in the room and the now crying and howling pups. He turns to the seething, frustrated alpha and raises his eyebrows. The teen holds up a hand and slowly opens his mouth.
“…I have many questions.”