Work Text:
Stiles sat at the table in the library of the rebuilt Hale house, his head buried in a book while stacks of more books surrounded him. He rubbed at his temples, trying to focus on the words that had been swimming in front of his eyes for the last ten minutes. The latest monster of the week didn’t fall under anything he’d dealt with in the past. Stiles had been up for the last twenty-four hours pouring over every book in the library trying to find something, anything to lead them in the right direction.
Groaning, Stiles stood from the table, stretching until his back felt looser before dropping back into the chair. Reaching for the next book, he pulled it towards him, opening it to somewhere in the middle. He started to curse and shove it away when he discovered it was a spellbook and not one of the bestiaries they had copied from other packs they’d been building alliances with.
His eyes caught on a spell, the words in Latin but he recognized some of them. The spell seemed to be to create a flow of information. Stiles thought it might be like forced osmosis. If he could use it on the books, then it might help him figure out what was happening in the preserve. The random fires were becoming dangerous with the drought currently affecting the area. They would have thought it was a regular arsonist if they weren’t blazing simultaneously across the town.
For a moment, he hesitated, remembering Derek’s warning about using magic without thinking. He knew he wanted to help and Derek was out in the preserve trying to keep the fires under control. He reached for his phone to call Lydia to double-check his Latin but remembered she had a trip to the spa with her mother that weekend and had threatened bodily harm if she was disturbed for anything less than an absolute emergency.
Glancing back down at the text, he chewed his lip for a moment before speaking the words from the page. “Producat usque ad summum flumen super terram de sermonibus siccitatis.” He closed his eyes and waited for the flood of information, predicting it would be at least slightly painful.
After a few minutes when nothing happened, he cracked open one eye and glanced at the book, frowning. He heard noise downstairs, like tapping against the windows just as his phone started ringing, Derek’s name and photo showing on the screen. He tapped the screen open and heard a rushing sound in the background, Derek shouting his name over it.
“What, Derek? I can barely hear you!” The call cut off and Stiles tried calling back but the call went to voicemail. Panicking, he ran down the stairs, planning to head in the direction Derek said he’d planned to patrol.
Yanking open the front door, he was knocked off his feet by a massive flood of water roaring into the house. He scrambled to keep from being pulled beneath the surface as he heard Derek shouting his name in the distance. His shoulders smacked into something hard and he swallowed a mouthful of water as he let out a shout. The last thing he remembered was something clamping around his arm, pain shooting through him before everything went black.
The world was moving as Stiles jerked upwards, water and bile spilling from his mouth. His chest burned as he was gathered into a strong hug, the world tilting ominously. Blinking his eyes, he realized that he was wrapped in Derek’s arms, the both of them sitting precariously on the front door that was floating somewhere near the upstairs landing.
“Did we put in a swimming pool?” Stiles asked, confused when Derek’s body began to shake uncontrollably. “Are you crying?” Derek pulled back, his face was wet with tears, but he was choking back laughter. “What happened?”
Derek shrugged. “I was patrolling and heard a rumble in the distance. At first, I thought it was a storm coming, and the next thing I knew, water was rushing towards me. I tried to call you, but the water knocked the phone out of my hand. I had just reached the house when you opened the door and disappeared.” He pulled Stiles into his arms again, running his nose along his hairline before pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I thought I’d lost you for a minute.”
“Where did the water come from?” Stiles asked. “Is it getting deeper?”
“I don’t think so.” Derek grabbed the stair railing and pulled the door towards the top of the stairs. He helped Stiles out and onto the second floor. “What were you doing?”
“Research,” he said, heading towards the library, Derek following closely. “I still can’t find the source of the fires and the spell I tried-”
“Spell?” Derek asked, hurrying to the table and picking up the spellbook. “Which one?” Stiles stared at him. “Which spell, Stiles?”
Moving closer, he pointed at the spell, watching Derek’s lips move as he read over the words. He grabbed Stiles’ phone off the table and opened the translation app, snapping a photo of the words and hitting “translate” before handing the phone to Stiles with his eyebrows lowered in his most annoyed expression.
“Bring forth the flood to end the drought upon the surrounding land,” Stiles read, biting his lips and looking up at Derek. “Oops?” Derek cocked an eyebrow, unimpressed, before taking Stiles’ phone back to call Deaton for help with a counterspell.