Do you miss me like I miss you?

“Scott told you,” She said quietly. She wasn’t angry, she had resigned herself to the fact that Stuart might find out.

“...Okay, yeah, but he didn’t mean to. It just kind of--slipped out,” Stuart said with a shrug, quietly studying her. After a moment, he murmured, “You were really just going to leave? What was your plan?”

“ – we’re not going to let anyone touch Cora, Stu. I promise.”

Stuart let out a breath, nodding as he looked at his brother. “What do we do then?”

Cora stared at Stuart, a soft smile on her face. She too had been bitter for the past month, all-knowing the reasons for it. The reason for her pent up anger in the first place was breaking up with Stuart. “Then we’re together again,” she said, like it was so simple. And maybe it would be. Everything felt simpler when she was with Stuart.

Stuart ached for it to be that simple. And maybe for Cora, it was. But he knew that there was still so much between them that was undiscussed. Still, he didn’t bring that up, murmuring only, “Good.” He hesitated only a moment before adding again, “I love you so much.”

A chuckle fell from him, low and soft, despite himself as he shook his head. “ – you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay – .. thanks received,” he told him with a small, warm quirk of his lips.

A genuine smile came to Stuart’s lips as he heard Stiles chuckle, and he nodded again. “I’ll let you get back to your book. I don’t want to keep you.”

A low breath fell from his lips – ducking his eyes down briefly before he was looking back to the other. “ – love you, too,” he told him softly, sniffling a bit before removing his hand from his shoulder to swipe at his cheeks.

Stuart blinked again, wiping the moisture from his own eyes before he was moving back slightly to give Stiles some space. “Sorry, I--” he started, running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat. “I really did just come here to thank you.” He’d never meant for this conversation to become so emotional--he’d had too many of those today already.

The answer to Stuart’s unasked question was yes – but Stiles wasn’t about to offer up a response to something he would feel better off without Stuart knowing for sure. He sucked in a harsh breath – pulling back just enough to look at his brother and giving him a weak and watery smile ;; at this point, ignoring the salt water that rolled down his cheek and off his jawline. “ – we’re gonna be okay, Dymek…” he whispered, his voice barely above audible tones. A rare murmur of his brother’s name as he gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Stuart was still momentarily distracted in his thoughts, blinking back at Stiles when he felt his eyes on him. He couldn’t bring himself to smile, but he nodded at Stiles’ words, however unlikely they might be. Even if they were both careful, Stuart knew that there was still always the possibility that one of them could be killed at any point. “Love you,” he whispered back.

The teenager fell quiet for a long moment before a small breath left his chest – “ yes, “ he whispered, closing his eyes and keeping his face hidden in Stuart’s shoulder. “ .. I knew how much you were hurting. I didn’t want you to hurt anymore.”

Stuart’s eyes fell closed as well, and he just nodded. He had so many more questions about the extent of the bond between them, but he closed his mouth as he realized that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answers. He was pretty sure that he had felt the pain when Stiles’ fingers had broken, but he’d been too distracted by his own blistering skin and inability to catch his breath when that had happened to give it much thought. Had Stiles been able to feel everything that Stuart had felt when he was being strangled--the desperation to escape, the helplessness that had rushed through him, the pain he’d felt as his windpipe had slowly been crushed and he’d fought for air?

His breathing hitched as his brother pulled him into a hug – a light whimper rising from his throat before he was tightly wrapping both arms around the twin; hiding his face against his shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut and he felt tears moisten the twin’s shoulder. “ – … I know, I’m sorry, you won’t.”

Stuart felt the tears against his shoulder, and he inhaled sharply, attempting to quell his own tears as he clutched Stiles tighter. “Good,” he breathed, pausing a moment as another thought came to his head. “Did you...I mean, was that the reason you were so insistent that Cora talked to me? Because you could feel my pain too?” he asked, his voice wobbling slightly.

Stiles’ own eyes burned at that – sucking in a harsh and rattling breath as he ducked his head down and closed his eyes; as if to hide the moisture that was building up inside of them. “ … I know,” he whispered, voice thick, “ … I know, and I didn’t. I got lost, Stuart.”

Stuart didn’t miss the change in Stiles’ voice, a tell-tale sign that he was close to tears, and he didn’t give it a second thought before he was gathering his brother into a hug, pulling him close. “I just don’t ever want to lose you,” he breathed. He was pretty sure that the chances of Stiles attempting to kill himself again were very slim, but he was also pretty sure that if it did get to that point again, he would know this time. He’d already had to suffer through that feeling with Stiles once. If it happened again, he would recognize the signs immediately.

When he felt his brother’s eyes on him, he couldn’t stop himself from raising his own to meet them - a low breath cascading out of him as lips thinned. “No – maybe not, but – … I could help how I acted upon what I felt. And I didn’t. … I just let that feeling eat at me until I felt like there was no other option. And there was.”

Stuart frowned deeply, and though he knew Stiles was right in some way, he still shook his head, feeling his eyes water. Though the leshy was able to feel Stiles’ emotions, had known that he was growing sadder by the day, he hadn’t been able to predict that he would act upon them in that way. He rubbed a hand across his face, taking a moment to compose himself before responding. “You could’ve talked to Scott. Or me,” he said quietly. 

A low breath escaped his chest, his throat, as his eyes fluttered closed. “ .. I’m so sorry, Stuart … - “ he breathed, his voice cracking down the center. “ .. I’m not used to … – I didn’t think it would effect you, too.”

“No, don’t apologize,” Stuart whispered, his eyes finally rising back up to rest on Stiles. The feeling of complete hopelessness and despair that he’d felt in those moments was something that was now embedded in his memory, and he only hoped that Stiles never felt that helpless again. “You can’t help how you felt. You don’t owe me an apology.”

“You – uh … “ his voice broke off and his eyes fluttered closed ;; memories of Stuart’s heartbreak filling his chest for a moment and causing his lungs to fill as he sucked in a low sigh, forcing himself to continue as he idly toyed with the wrapping on his bandage. Because he needed to know. His voice when he spoke next was impossibly soft ; almost inaudible, “ … - you felt it, didn’t you?”

Stuart’s eyes were decidedly on the floor after Stiles questioned him, a pained look coming to his face. For a fraction of a second, he considered lying to attempt to spare Stiles, but he knew that there was no point. “Yeah. I felt it,” the leshy said quietly.

“No – but I’m not everyone,” he responded softly, feeling suddenly slightly self conscious when he watched his brother’s eyes trail to his hand – shaking fingers closing into a palm on instinct. He knew it was just Stuart, but he still even had his insecurities over his injury with Scott. His own eyes, albeit, then found the bottle of medication before his eyes dropped, clearing his throat a little. “… – better. They’ve …– “ he gestured loosely to the bottle in question before continuing, “ … they’ve been helping. Along with just … trying to view things differently. Have a different outlook. I can’t .. – I can’t let myself get to that point again. … – it’s still difficult, y’know ..? It doesn’t go away. It just gets manageable.”

“I know you’re not everyone,” Stuart said quietly, grateful that Stiles was still so willing to make Cora feel comfortable here, even after what she’d done to his hand. He frowned as Stiles closed his fingers into a palm, making it a point not to look at his hand anymore if his brother was still so self-conscious about it. He nodded as Stiles spoke, an attempt at a smile coming over his face. “Good, I...that’s good, Stiles,” he whispered, swallowing harshly as he kept his eyes on the other. Because Stuart didn’t ever want Stiles to feel like that again-- he didn’t ever want to have to feel again what he’d felt in the moments before Stiles was about to throw himself off the roof. He’d known something was really wrong, but he hadn’t exactly been sure as to what. When Scott had told him about Stiles’ suicide attempt, everything had slipped into place, the reason for all the pain Stuart had been feeling suddenly making sense.

He let out a breath before he was looking down to his injured hand, “ – … despite what happened, she’s still pack. And I still care about her. You don’t have to thank me for that. I wanted to bring her back – I didn’t want to see her get herself killed out there on her own.”

“I know, but...not everyone would think like that,” Stuart pointed out, his own eyes trailing down to Stiles’ injured hand as well, still feeling somewhat responsible for the lost digits. He swallowed harshly before his eyes were looking elsewhere, falling on the bottle of anti-depressants next to Stiles’ bed. “How have you been doing? I mean, since...” he said, trailing off.