Crashing

"We really shouldn't be doing this." Scoot protested, standing outside of the blue jeep that had been sitting in the Stilinski driveway for four years, only driven to make sure it didn't die.

"A week deference till I take my test is not gonna do any harm, Scott. Not to mention, it's not like my Dad is gonna put me in jail."

"What if he or my mom finds out? You're not even supposed to use this jeep."

"Both of our parents are working late, and besides, I'm getting the jeep keys for my birthday. I heard my Dad talking to one of his employees over the phone about how excited he was to give it to me."

The asthmatic teen sighed loudly, scanning the perimeter with his eyes before staring at his friend, giving into his persuasion.

"Fine. A quick drive. Ten minutes, then we come back, you put the keys back and we continue our sleepover with no indication we left."

Stiles's face lit up as he climbed into the seat, turning the ignition on, the car coming to life as he placed his hands in the ten and two positions while Scott climbed into the passenger seat, and the teens pulled out of the driveway, flipping on the radio as the older one drove towards the back roads near the woods.

"Stiles, you should really focus on the road." Scott warned, shaking up his inhaler before placing it in his mouth.

"You know I can't focus on one thing, Scott." Stiles sighed, his finger tapping the wheel at a very fast pace before a certain Spice Girls song started playing, making the teen's face light up as he jumped right in.

"Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want so tell me what you want, what you really, really want, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want, so tell me what you want, what you really, really want I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna, I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah."

Scott stared at Stiles with a very confused and slightly disapproving look on his face, making Stiles drop out of the song to defend himself.

"My Mom used to listen to Spice Girls all the time."

Scott raised a eyebrow before the hyperactive 15 year old flipped off the radio, turning back to the road as his finger started tapping against the wheel for the second time.

"Stiles, we should be heading back."

"I think we're fine, but if I don't turn the radio back on, I'm gonna go out of my freaking mind."

"By all means." Scott granted as Stiles flipped the radio back on again as some random Top 50 bubblegum pop song filled their ears. "God, I'd rather listen to Spice Girls."

Stiles responded by pulling into some random driveway, turning on the turn signal, and turning around, heading back to his house before his phone started going crazy with texts.

He picked it up, staring at the screen to see VERY angry and concerned texts from his Dad, asking if he was OK, where he, Scott and the jeep were, and to get his butt back to the house before he was in the most trouble he had ever been in.

As he was about to respond to them, he heard Scott scream.

"TRUCK!"

Stiles dropped the phone as he snapped back to reality, seeing the large semi truck, making him jerk the wheel to a hard right as the jeep skidded, hitting the side of the semi while skidding into the ditch, finally slamming into a large oak tree, the air bags failing to eject on the driver side as Stiles slammed his head onto the steering wheel, passing out immediately, while the passenger side's partly ejected, Scott hitting the left side of his head on the dashboard, passing out, the last image in his head being Stiles's bloody forehead.

Hey guys! Haven't been feeling 100% lately, but I've been working on this so I hope you like it!