Dear Newt,

I watched you for three years. I was on the other side of the beetle blades, but you already know that.

What you don't know:

I loved you for a long time, since we were nearly ten

We kissed for the first time when we were almost thirteen

You walked up to me, dragged me into an empty room, and told me point-blank that you liked me: "Tommy, I'm bloody well in love with you."

I had to steal cinnamon sticks from the kitchen and keep it under my pillow in order to sleep.

I had to watch you be Swiped, Teresa performed it.

I tried to save you, when you jumped.

Too many things I had to tell you, not enough time to say them all.

I love you, always and forever.

Tommy.

Stiles wrote the letter, crying halfway through. His dad came in, smiling sadly at the shaky handwriting.

"I loved him, Dad." Stiles whispered. "We met when I was sent up in the Box..."

Over the next couple hours, Stiles detailed exactly what the Gladers had gone through.

"He said, 'Please, Tommy, please'," Stiles' voice cracked. "I've never been able to say no to him. Ever. I shot him in the heart, and he smiled. God, I wish he was here. When I saw the ocean, my first thought was Where's Newt? He'd love to see this. I turned to my left, but Minho was there, and god, did I do the right thing?"

"Yeah, son. You did." John sighed. "He wanted it, didn't he?" A nod. "You did what he wanted. You said his biggest fear was losing his control or losing you, right?" Another nod. "Now, wash off, Mischief."

Stiles looked up, shocked. His dad had called him Mischief. Not son, not Stiles.

Mischief.

He hadn't been Mischief since his mom died.

"'Course, daddio." Stiles shoved the emotion behind a barrier. "Now, we're going out to Lyla's tonight. Five minutes."

Lyla's Diner had been Claudia Stilinski's favorite diner. It was a quaint little place off of Main Street, just a few blocks away.

They hadn't been since John's cholesterol had gone up three years ago.

"We're gonna treat ourselves to curly fries and burgers today," Stiles said happily, pulling his coat on. "Come on, Dad!"

John and Stiles walked into Lyla's Diner and a hush fell over the previously-bustling diner.

"John and Stiles Stilinski! Well, it's been years since I've seen you two!" Lyla Etan, the owner, stepped out from behind the till and hugged them both. "The usual, boys? Two double bacon cheeseburgers and curly fries? D'you still like Coke, Stiles?"

A quick nod had Lyla grinning.

"Well, I'll go and make that up for ya really quick. Great to see you back here."

When Stiles tried to pay, Lyla shook her head.

"Naw, it's on the house tonight, my boys. Good to have you back."