Stiles and Derek walk into the old church in awe, gaping at the grand arches and romanesque columns. The polished stone and shining metals seem to transport them back to the early 20th century, when the church was new, still a staple of the Beacon Hills community, standing tall and proud at the center of the town. Though the other buildings around the church have grown and changed with the times, the American Neoclassical architecture of the church was preserved, a snapshot of the Classical Revival Era in American history.

Stiles and Derek have come to the church under Deaton's advisement to speak with the priest about a certain ritual they have encountered that has subtle Christian elements integrated into the Druidic framework. The coalition of the two very much contrasting religions has Deaton and the Pack stumped, so they figured that the help of an expert on Christian traditions and customs will bring them one step closer to solving the puzzle.

As they wait, Stiles' mind wanders, his eyes turning upward to look at the intricately crafted stained glass windows that paint the lavish hall with intermittent bursts of colour, contrasting the generic whites, bronzes, and golds that dominate the space. As he's admiring a particularly elaborate window, his brain decides that this is the perfect moment to rebel.

Stiles has never been one to listen to his brain-to-mouth-filter, and sometimes saying his thoughts aloud helps to alleviate his usually ill-advised urges, so he makes the decision to chance it and vocalize his inner monologue, despite the fact that Derek may or may not react unfavorably.

"Hey, Derek? Hypothetically speaking, what would you do if I broke that antique window?" Stiles says inquisitively, pointing up at the ornate window he's been entranced with for the past five minutes. Derek stiffens, ceasing his meticulous observation of a rather eloquent design on one of the church's pillars.

"And why, pray tell, are you thinking about breaking a 100-year-old stained-glass window?" Derek says through a sigh, his tone emotionless and controlled. He turns and begins walking over to Stiles preemptively, just in case he has to spring into action to stop Stiles from doing something drastic and irreversible. He comes up next to Stiles, glancing at him from the corner of his eye, noticing that Stiles' gaze is still resolutely fixed on the window in question. His whiskey coloured eyes are glassy and distant, as if he's conversing with himself and only partially aware of the world around him. When he receives no response, Derek nudges Stiles lightly in the arm, drawing the teen's attention and chasing the vacant look from his eyes.

Stiles takes a moment to consider his response, his brow furrowing in concentration. Eventually, he says, "Brain says 'do' and I say 'sure, why not'." His answer is simple, yet efficient, conveying his meaning clearly despite his lack of proper grammar and the semi-childish tone.

Derek catches Stiles' gaze, trying not to let his sympathy show through his eyes. The last thing he wants is to scare Stiles away by making him think that Derek is pitying him. And he's not pitying Stiles, not at all. In fact, Derek is immeasurably proud of the young man that Stiles has grown into over the past two years. He's come such a long way in learning how to control the more destructive impulses brought on by his ADHD, and he now has at least a modicum of control when it comes to blurting out every thought that happens to run through his head, at least when the situation calls for it. After all, Stiles would not be Stiles without his sarcasm and exciting eccentricities.

Derek tries to decide how to continue this conversation. He could get all emotional and orchestrate a sappy chick-flick moment, but he doubts that either of them would really appreciate it at this particular time. Derek finally settles on using a vernacular that Stiles is able to comprehend even more efficiently than his native language: Sarcasm. Besides, Derek is fairly certain that he's heard Stiles use the phrase "When in doubt, sass it out" on more than one occasion. So it's safe to say that this is the best solution to this situation.

"That's not healthy, Stiles." Derek says, with an underlying tone of humour and sarcasm that, despite its subtle nature, Stiles easily picks up on. There are a few seconds of incomprehensible silence, during which Derek begins to work himself into a minor panic, but after what seems like an eternity, Stiles' face breaks out into a breathtaking grin, his eyes sparkling with mirth. And just like that, Derek knows that he's made the right call. His heart overflows with relief and another emotion, one that he refuses to call "love". Derek doesn't think he's quite ready to confront that feeling just yet, despite the fact that it's glaringly obvious to everyone other than Derek and Stiles themselves.

Stiles leans slightly into Derek's side and replies snippily. "Yeah, you're telling me. My brain has no off switch, no chill, and definitely no business-casual mode. It's an unrelenting burden, but it's a cross I have to bear for humanity's sake."

Derek laughs, wholehearted and open in a way that is reserved only for Stiles. The corners of his eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches up. His dazzling smile shows off those perfect bunny teeth that Stiles can't seem to get enough of. It's a picture-perfect moment, so undeniably Derek and Stiles, somehow portraying the beautiful anarchy that is their relationship in its entirety. Both men secretly wish that they could freeze this moment in time, the same way people have preserved the church they are standing in. But, like all divine moments, this must come to an end. Life is fleeting, as are the precious memories we forge, and we must all remember that the culmination of these unparalleled memories and pre-eminent moments is what makes us who we are and shows us what we are to become.

Quite suddenly, the set of doors by the alter on the far right corner of the room clatter open, breaking the mesmerizing spell that had fallen over the two as they delved deeper than ever before into the complex contrivances of their subconscious minds. Their shared gaze finally separates as the priest makes his way into the room, and though the moment has passed, true to life's fleeting nature, the memory of what was shared will never be forgotten, memorialized within them as the first step on the terrifying yet coveted road that will lead them to their desired future, their desired life, and to the seductive bliss they have long been searching for.