Chapter Text
It was quiet the night of the fire.
Stiles had only been in the house twice in his life, once when he had a playdate with a girl from his preschool, and the second when his family was invited to a party. He remembered how active the house was. Compared to the laughter and music he remembers, the silence almost hurt. He expected the house to be empty, but once he walked through the front hallway, bodies were scattered everywhere.
His dad had been called on an emergency forest fire and he was dragged along because he was too young to stay home alone. Since his mom died, his dad had turned into a helicopter parent; always trying to keep Stiles within arms reach. But his dad had been acting strange all that night, so he didn’t complain. Their local preserve was being completely burned down. They’d already found gas tanks around the entrances, so arson was the obvious crime. For such a small county with a history of forest fires in the area, they had invested a lot of money on resources. Firefighters, local and out of the county, were already working the scene. His dad yelled at him to stay in the car, his own firefighter uniform made his body look larger even as he joined the crowd. Stiles just had his pajamas on with sneakers, he crossed his arms against his body tightly, the adrenaline in his body making it itching to move. So he walked out of the car to settle himself, the heat from the fire contrasted the usual cold air of the early morning. The color of the sky was already bleeding red and as he stood out there longer, the air was making it harder for his lungs to breathe. He could smell the faint scent of meat of the animals dying around him. Felt the tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he wondered why his dad would bring him out here. His eyes started wandering and fell on a dark house in the corner of his peripheral. He stared in confusion. No one was running out of the darkened house yet, Stiles believed it could be empty, but no one had bothered to check. The smoke surrounding the house made it look hauntingly beautiful. He never would be able to forget that house. And as the memories of laughter rang through his ears, he saw a boy peek out a window.
Stiles didn’t even think, he ran straight for the door. When he entered, the door slammed shut behind him and that’s when the silence took over. It was disorienting, not being able to hear the sirens and voices yelling outside. The fire hadn’t touched any part of the house yet. Stiles walked around slowly, blood coated the carpets and large scratches ran along the walls like an animal was trapped in a cage. Some of the bodies were gutted, lying dead on the ground, others looked like they were sleeping. Stiles touched the bloodless ones, slapping their faces and shaking their shoulders until the body started groaning.
“Hey! Your house is on fire, you need to get up!” His weak body was already tiring out as he went on to smack the person’s face over and over. Eventually looking around and finding a basin of water that he splashed over the man. The stranger roared as he sat straight up. Stiles ignored the man’s face mold to add fangs and glowing yellow eyes. “How many others are there?” he continued, wheezing a little due to the weight of the basin.
“Thirty,” the man slurred. The fangs looked difficult to speak around. But Stiles had others to focus on.
“How many bedrooms?”
“Ten,”
“Get out, I’ll get them up” he ran before he could argue, running to the untouched staircase. “Wake up! You guys need to get out of here!” he opened the doors, trying to shake strangers out of their deeply heavy sleep. The man returned beside him, carrying the basin like a toothpick, splashing water on all the bodies.
“I told you to get out!” Stiles shouted, but immediately bit his tongue as others were actually awake after being soaked.
“Figured you didn’t know how to deal with us,” the man slurred again, handing Stiles a flask, “only a little is needed.” The man continued down the opposite corner of Stiles and he watched as other beings awoke with their eyes shining in the darkness. Growls that made the hairs on the back on his neck stand up, reminded him to move. He worked his way down toward the last bedroom in the corner, voices behind him fading as he ran closer.
“Hey come on! Get out of there already!” This door was locked, unlike the others. Stiles dropped the flask as both his hands started pounding on the door. He heard shuffling so he shouted louder, suddenly feeling the temperature rising around him. “I’m not dying here today and neither are you!” he got out before the door swung open, his hands coming down again, successfully hitting the person at the door.
“Fuck,” a boy crouched, nursing his nose. The only one without fangs and shining blue eyes instead of the yellow.
“Get your butt out of here already!” Stiles shouting, not bothering to apologize in the situation.
“I can’t,” the boy snarled, eyebrows crushing together. Stiles might have even thought it cute, like he was trying to mimic the fangs he saw from the others.
“We have to get out of here!” He shouted instead.
“I’m stuck!” The boy snarled back. For a second he looked scared, like a hurt puppy.
“How?” Stiles asked softer, he felt like he had just rescued a stray and needed to earn its trust first.
“See this, it’s mountain ash, you need to break the circle.” Stiles stared a little harder in the darkness and saw a line of dirt. He cocked his head to the side and ignored every instinct to call this kid out on his delusion. But again, they were in a dire situation. “Only a human can do it. I’ve been trying to break it but I’m not strong enough,” the boy continued, “there’s not enough time anymore so just get out and save yourself.” The boy, though physically taller than Stiles, looked smaller at that moment. Stiles started to hear growling a lot clearer now, the smell of rotting wood and smoke filled the air faster.
“Okay please shut up and let me save your life!” He leaned down to break the circle before grabbing the kid’s hand and running. The building was getting hotter by the minute, yet no one else seemed to run into the house to help. He ran into the first man he woke up.
“Derek!” He shouted before scooping the kid in his arms. Stiles kept looking around, seeing the group form as a collective sigh of relief was shared. He felt his body begin to collapse, but he could also hear the house start to creak.
“We must run!” a woman shouted, grabbing a hold of Stiles’s hand this time. They all spoke in soft murmurs as fangs and eye colors faded. The house was filled with more than thirty people, some who Stiles originally categorized as dead, stood tall with only dried blood on clothing. “Why isn’t anyone opening the door?” Stiles whispered, everyone seeming content with being together again. Dying in a stranger's home wasn’t exactly on his to do list for the day.
“We have the human!” The woman holding Stiles’s hand shouted, making her way through the crowd and pushed his small frame through the front door. “Break the seal, please!” she continued, begging softly as Stiles looked for the dirt again, in confusion. He ran his hand along the floor before everyone ran past. The group made their way toward the anchor point where Stiles’s dad’s patrol car sat. The boy named Derek, from before, came running up beside him. He was running faster than Stiles, but he reached out his hand to latch on to his. Derek dragged Stiles away from the collapsing house. Stiles held on tighter to Derek’s hand, not wanting to get lost in the crowd. They reached the patrol car, Stiles panting heavily as the smoke took over his lungs. He felt his heartbeat pounding as he looked at Derek, in the eyes.
“Thank you,” Derek’s voice coated in awe. Stiles inspected his face for a minute, his eyes were now a familiar blue green versus the glowing blue. He cocked his head in confusion. Again.
“I like your eyes,” he murmured, before collapsing in the stranger’s arms. His last thoughts being, he has a million questions he wanted to ask.