Stiles couldn't move. He tried moving a bit at a time. A toe. A finger. His eyelids. But nothing budged. He felt heavy. Tired. Like he was weighted down by something huge. He was warm, like he was snug in bed at home. The darkness around him was comforting and calm.

"Have faith, young one." The voice that called to him softly sounded close. It was sweet and light, like a cool wind.

What? Stiles tried to say. But words didn't come out. Everything remained dark.

"Hold fast to the ties that bind you."

Who are you?

The voice went on like it didn't hear him. "Hold fast to the anchors that ground you."

I don't understand.

"You must awaken now. Your wolf needs you."

Stiles eyes flew open and he looked around, breathing heavily even though he didn't need air. He had laid on the bed next to Derek and watched him sleep for what felt like hours. He must have drifted off too at some point. Derek still slept soundly, cuddling Stiles' pillow shamelessly. Someone had thrown an afghan over the sleeping werewolf which let Stiles know that not only had his dad been home but he had witnessed this phenomenon and had done nothing.

At least Stiles knew his dream world was safe again… Sort of. Like if televising weird cryptic messages to him and being unable to move could be considered safe. It was at least a lot less painful than before. Upon reflection, the voice had been a woman. One he'd never heard before.

"Hold to the ties that bind… Since when is being tied down a good thing?" Then again, it was probably his attachment to the living that was keeping him around—unfinished business and what not.

There was a sudden knock at the door. Derek awoke slowly and sat up. His usually styled hair sticking out at funny angles and Stiles snorted. The door opened to find the sheriff still in uniform. "Hey, breakfast is on the table if you're hungry."

Derek frowned. "I really should—"

John shut him down. "If you're hungry you should eat." As if on cue, Derek's stomach made a loud grumbling noise. "Come on."

Derek followed without protest to the kitchen.

"Again." Derek called from under the hood of the Jeep. Erica turned the key from the passenger's seat. The engine turned over but it didn't catch.

Stiles sat by the side lines, watching Derek's back flex and relax with each movement as the werewolf adjusted the engine. He hadn't been able to stop watching Derek since the night before. It was going on twelve hours now and he'd followed the alpha around Beacon Hills as he ran errands; getting coffee, collecting the parts he needed, meeting the pack at the Hale home.

Stile thought he'd be tired of it by noon but he still hadn't figured Derek out.

Stiles' dad had gone to bed immediately after breakfast and Derek left shortly after. Apparently, the last bits Derek needed for the Jeep come in.

So now, a few hours and a lot of elbow grease later, Derek had the Jeep all put back together.

Derek finished fiddling with whatever he was fiddling with and closed the hood. "There. That should do it."

Erica turned the key and the engine roared to life. It was the most beautiful sound that Stiles had ever heard. He got up and walked around the car, stunned. "You did it. You actually fixed it! And I wasn't sure about the lift kit before but Christ on toast." Stiles went up and tried to slap Derek on the back but his hand went right through Derek. "Well, whatever, I hope you got the point."

Erica climbed out. "She's purring like a kitten."

"You made an excellent partner in crime."

She shrugged, grinning. "The whole werewolf thing doesn't work out, we can open a shop. Call it 'Moon Over My Hemi'. "

Derek chuckled. "I'm not exactly strapped for cash."

Erica huffed. "Well not all of us can afford to pimp our packmates rides. Girl's gotta eat."

"I'm taking her out for a spin." Derek said, climbing up into the driver's seat. "Gonna put her through her paces."

Erica waved as he drove off. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Stiles popped into the passenger's seat. "This isn't the way to the road."

Derek, as always ignored him, electing to continue driving off into the woods. Eventually, they made it to a large, flat clearing. It was mostly dirt with some grassy areas here and there. Derek stopped on the edge of the open area and looked around, keeping his face blank as he revved the engine and Stiles cringed. "What are you doing?"

The werewolf put on his seatbelt and braced himself.

"Derek— dear, sweet, wonderful Derbear. Tell me you didn't fix my Jeep just to run it into a tree."

Without changing his expression, Derek put the jeep in drive and took off full speed. The engine roared like a monster let loose.

"Derek! Please, just this once—for me—hear me and stop this! I know we weren't exactly friends but come on! I love this Jeep!"

Suddenly Derek let out a long loud cackle as he spun the wheel left, causing the car to slide right and kicking up a cloud of dirt. After that he splashed through some mud, causing it to splatter all over the place.

"If I weren't dead, I would kill you right now."

Dirt went flying as the alpha did the wheel thing again on dry land in the other direction. "Come, on. Let's show him what you've got," he whispered. Stiles stared at him. He'd had said 'him'—not me or them but him…

"What the hell?"

Derek did a few doughnuts in the dirt and a few more sharp turns before he slowed down to a crawl, and stopped, breathing heavy from laughing so hard. The Jeep was nearly silent, the low hum of the engine nearly drowned out by Derek's heavy breathing. It was a miracle that his Jeep hadn't flipped over. Stiles had been shocked into a strange numbness.

"Damn it," Derek whispered. "I thought I had you there for a second."

It took a second for Stiles too understand. "You know I'm here.

When Derek didn't react Stiles knew he didn't hear him. The disappointment didn't return though. "Could've sworn…." Stiles felt the pang of guilt, then the embarrassment. A deep chuckle escaped Derek and he sighed. "I guess it doesn't matter." Derek pressed his head to the steering wheel. "This is where I feel you the most. You poured everything you are into this Jeep. If I close my eyes it's almost liked you're next to me."

"But I am next to you." Stiles shifted in his seat. This sounded too much like praying for his liking.

"How could I not take care of it?" Derek huffed. "Like he can hear me anyway," he whispered, turning the Jeep back on and heading out of the clearing.

Stiles chuckled. "You don't even know the half of it."