#brolinski3

[ sms // stu ]:  Hey kid, are you still alive over there? [ sms // stu ]:  Just making sure. Haven’t heard from you in a bit.

      he hadn’t thought one text could be so infuriating,  but god,  was he wrong.    he’d barely gotten out of new york fast enough,  and though roscoe probably wasn’t fit enough to make the journey,  he forced her all the same.    barely forty-eight hours have passed since he got stuart’s text,  yet here he is, climbing through the window of the home he thought he’d left behind once and for all.    having driven for two days straight,  non-stop  ——  just as he did when he left  ——  he’s exhausted,  and when he drops into the chair by his twin’s desk,  he can barely keep his eyes open.    judging by his brother’s current state of consciousness,  stiles thinks he can get at least a half hour of rest,  so he shuts his eyes and hopes no one calls scott while he’s sleeping.