the strangled noise aaron made was his best attempt at andrew’s name. it was barely intelligible but it was enough.
andrew, who’d barely acknowledged aaron’s existence in the entire time neil had known them, looked immediately to his brother. andrew snaked a hand out from under the sheet and curled his fingers in a demand. aaron clambered onto the bed and reached for andrew.
“andrew,” aaron said, desperate and frightened. he held onto andrew like he thought andrew would disappear if he let go.
I have a son. His name is Mieczyslaw Stilinski, but we call him Stiles. I remember. When Stiles was a little kid, he couldn’t say his first name. Not sure why, pretty much rolls off the tongue, but the closest he could get was Mischief. His mother called him that until…I remember when Stiles first got his Jeep, it belonged to his mother and she wanted him to have it. The first time he took a spin behind the wheel he went straight into a ditch. I gave him his first roll of duct tape that day. He was always getting into trouble, but he always had a good heart. Always. We’re here tonight because my goofball son decided to drag Scott, his greatest friend in the world, into the woods to see a dead body.