"I still can't understand why you refuse to get rid of this jeep." Derek groaned as he was jostled in the passenger seat when Stiles ran over yet another pothole on the quiet, back-country road. Stiles smirked, hands resting lazily on the top of the steering wheel.
"This jeep has been a loyal and faithful companion. Respect the jeep."
Derek rolled his eyes. "How many accidents have happened it this jeep? It's bad luck. It's cursed or something."
"Hey, watch it. If you hate it so much you can walk the rest of the way home." Stiles laughed as Derek playfully punched him on the shoulder. "Hey- you can't assault the driver! That's dangerous!"
"Even if the driver deserves it?" Derek grinned at Stiles' exaggerated expression of protest.
"I literally just made you dinner. I set the table and everything. I lit candles, Derek. CANDLES. Now I'm driving you home. I'm pretty sure that makes me boyfriend number one."
"Fair enough." Derek sat silently for a bit, smiling and relishing the moment. He was beyond grateful that they were still able to have moments like this. He couldn't take it for granted. It'd been months since Stiles had been released from the hospital, but Derek still often caught himself sneaking glances to make sure that he wasn't hurt in any way. He was pretty sure that Stiles noticed the glances too, but he didn't say anything. They didn't talk about the kidnapping much, except during the panic attacks. The attacks usually hit in the middle of the night. Derek had started the habit of keeping his phone on full volume right next to his bed just in case. Usually Derek could talk Stiles through it on the phone until he calmed down, but if it was especially bad he would run over. Stiles apologized every time, over and over. Derek tried to get it into his head that he absolutely wanted to help and definitely did NOT want Stiles to stop "burdening" him with it. He just wanted Stiles to finally have some peace. Most of the time he was great. Bubbly, energetic… classic Stiles. When the anxiety hit, though, it hit hard. Derek had come to memorize the slight change in breathing and subtle look of impending terror in Stiles beautiful amber eyes when panic was about to strike.
"What are you thinking about?" Stiles' bright voice shook Derek out of his thoughts.
"What?"
"You have a dreamy look on your face."
"Maybe I just have a dreamy face!"
"No, that's not it."
Derek laughed and studied Stiles for a moment before finally responding. "You have really pretty eyes."
Stiles made a noise that was somewhere between a snort and a giggle. "Thanks! I was lying before. You actually do have a dreamy face." Derek chuckled before Stiles continued, "You know, when I first met you, I wouldn't have pegged you for the romantic softie type."
"That's because we didn't like each other," Derek stated bluntly, absently playing with Stiles' hair as if to emphasize the irony.
"Good point. Still, you aren't like this with other people." Stiles gazed at Derek pointedly.
Derek leaned in to kiss Stiles on the cheek. "You're not other people." Stiles was at a loss for how to respond. He gazed down the dim, narrow road for a while, fidgeting and looking slightly uncomfortable.
"I feel like I need to insult you now so that the balance is restored to the universe."
Derek laughed. "Come on, you can't insult someone with a face like this."
"Oh my god… enough about the face!" Stiles sighed dramatically. Derek just grinned. Stiles expression suddenly became more serious. "Listen, Derek-"
He cut himself off with a sudden, violent swerve in an attempt avoid the truck shooting out from an intersecting road to their left. They each saw it coming a second too late, and Derek barely had time to register the overwhelming impact before the jeep was skidding across the road and crashing into the ditch on the other side. The last thing he could remember was shouting Stiles' name before he was plunged into darkness.