What the hell is a Spark?

Ch. 8 Stiles

"Wake up." It was cold and dark. "Wake up." He couldn't see anything.
"Wake up." Screams filled his ears.
"Wake up." His pack. His family.
"WAKE UP!"

Stiles sat up in bed gasping for air. His eyes burned with tears as he blinked them away quickly. Without thinking he moved from his bed. His door was thrown open as he made his way down the halls. He checked each room. Finding each one occupied with the right person. Stiles felt his heart calm down as he closed Derek's door. Each one of his pack members was safe. His eyes found the clock on the wall.

4:30 a.m.

There was no way he'd be able to go back to sleep. So he did the next best thing. He walked downstairs to the kitchen. Stiles remembers his mother, sometimes it's blurry but he remembers her. He remembers when she would get nerves she could always be found in the kitchen. Making a new treat or trying something new to distract herself from the worry that clouded her mind. Stiles found later in his life, he did the same.

Stiles moved around the kitchen like he had done many times before. He used to cook when he was worried about a test or his dad when he drank too much or stayed on the job too long. Now he was doing it because of a supernatural threat. The wolves were out fighting a rouge hellhound. It had burned two people alive and hurt two of his pups.

They were asleep in the living room thanks to an herb from Deaton and yet again Stiles found himself in the kitchen making chicken, mash potatoes, green beans, and three pies. Stiles felt sweat fall down the side of his face as he molded the pie crust into the pan. His fingers twitched every time he walked away to check on the chicken, he had to do something. Anything to keep from thinking the worst.

They had been gone since seven it was eleven now and the fear built up in Stiles that something bad happened to his pack. Pulling the chicken out of the oven Stiles set it down before going to check up on the betas. Erica laid on the couch, the big burns on her arms and face were now smaller ones showing that she was healing just fine. Jackson laid on the air up, his hair was burned away slightly and the right side of his face was showing small burns.

He turned away from them before heading back to his kitchen. It took a few more minutes for the food to be ready and the table set. Stiles sat down looking at the clock on the wall, his heart sunk. It was midnight and they still weren't back. Stiles' fingers tapped on the table rapidly.

He could feel the fear creeping up on him. It climbed up the walls and onto the ceiling moving to get closer to Stiles. Wanting to hold him close and kill him slowly. He could see the darkness now, moving in on him. "Sstiless." He was cold now, cold to the bone. "Sstiless." It was getting closer he could feel it. "Sstiless." The darkness loomed over him. "Stiles?" He looked up at his name.

He stood there, blood on his face, shirt and arms. Other than that he was fine. "Derek!" He yelled standing up and attacking Derek with a hug. Said wolf stumbled back with the weight of the human before steadying himself and holding Stiles close. His arms moving around Stiles' waist. Stiles hide his face in the crook of the Alphas neck, taking in his scent. Derek smiled and put Stiles back down, "You were worried?" He nodded to the food.

"Can you tell?" Stiles laughed as the pups sat down to eat the food Stiles made. "Thank you for coming home." Stiles whispered still holding onto Derek, Derek rubbed his face against the top of Stiles' head before saying, "always."

The one place he felt closer to his mother was the kitchen, she started his love to cook which never stopped, only grew. He taught himself mostly because he was too young when his mother was still alive but he watched her. He remembers her every move in the small middle-class house kitchen they lived in. He did the same now, making several things for breakfast.