Chapter Text
Theo doesn’t fall over from exhaustion as soon as they’re given the all-clear, but it’s a very close thing.
He’s still on the floor next to Gabe’s body. Gabe’s blood is soaking through the knees of his jeans, but the disgusting feeling is not enough to force Theo’s limbs to unstick. It’s like all the adrenaline from fighting for his life drains from his fingertips, and all he has left in him is three days worth of mediocre sleep and Gabe’s residual pain thrumming through his veins.
No one is paying him any attention. He catches the nearest wall for balance, closing his eyes to ride through the sudden wave of dizziness that crashes over him. There’s a bullet in his shoulder, but he can’t tell it from the phantom three in his chest, in his heart, his lung, fuck, fuck—
“Is everyone alright?” Mrs. McCall’s voice sounds like he’s listening to her speak from under water.
Get it together. Theo grits his teeth. I’m not dying. I’m not dying. Gabe’s dying.
He’s never taken anyone’s pain before. No one had ever tried to describe it to him, and almost certainly they wouldn’t have been able to describe this gut-deep agony, the way it feels like his life is being syphoned out from the holes in his chest.
The bullet in Theo's shoulder carries the throbbing ache of a wound half-healed, his chimera flesh knitting itself together around the foreign object inside him, but Gabe’s wounds aren’t healing. They’re killing him, and Theo can feel it. He breathes out through his nose and tries to force his eyes open.
And then, all of a sudden, it’s gone. The pain vanishes like it had never been there. The shock of it would have Theo staggering if he wasn’t kneeling, and he can’t help the relieved gasp that wrenches itself from his intact lungs. He blinks tears from his eyes and stares down at Gabe, knowing somewhere deep within himself that he’d just felt him die.
He smothers the yawning emptiness that builds in his chest at the realization and tries to stand. No luck. His legs still won’t move. He’s still holding Gabe’s hand, not yet cold, sticky with blood.
“Theo?” This voice is clearer now that Theo’s not riding wave after wave of excruciating pain. Liam. He’d approached without Theo noticing and stands over him now, looking down at Theo and Gabe’s joined hands. “You okay?”
“Yeah, of course,” Theo says, forcing out a laugh. He drops Gabe’s hand and wipes the blood and sweat from his palm onto his jeans. “Help me up, will you?”
Theo's expecting Liam to grab his closest shoulder, the injured one. It's not an unusual assumption based on how casually cruel they used to be to each other. He braces himself for the pain, but Liam surprises him, reaching down to grab Theo’s good hand, the one still sticky with Gabe’s blood. He pulls Theo to his feet like he weighs nothing, which is crazy because Theo knows he’d seen a bullet hit Liam’s shin earlier.
Liam drapes Theo’s arm over his shoulder, almost absent-mindedly, letting Theo lean most of his weight on him. Theo would never allow this normally, but he’s still not quite sure that he’d be able to stand without support. This indignity is far lesser than the indignity of falling over as soon as Liam lets go of him.
Liam catches Theo twisting down to check his leg. “Bullet went straight through,” he says, wiggling his leg. “Healed right up.” He eyes Theo’s shoulder critically. “Yours is still in there?”
Theo rolls his shoulder and regrets it immediately. “Yep.” He suppresses his wince—the idea of anyone but Liam seeing him in visible pain is repelling—but when he glances around the reception area, it's deserted. “Where’d everyone go?”
Liam squints at him like he’s not sure if he’s joking. “Are you spacing out? Mason, Corey, and Nolan went to check if the other floors are clear, and Mrs. McCall is trying to get ahold of Scott.”
“Right,” Theo says. He should really be stepping away from Liam.
Liam unsheathes his claws with a grin, waving the wicked points in front of Theo’s face. “Want me to get it for you?”
Theo weighs his options of letting Liam Dunbar dig around in his shoulder, or just straight up doing it himself like he usually does. It'd take him ages to find something as small as a bullet by himself, not to mention that it's a bad angle.
“Fine,” he grits out. Liam’s eyebrows jump like he hadn’t been expecting him to agree. “But it’s already healed around it, so you’ll have to—”
“—do a bit of excavation? I got it,” Liam says with a flippant wave of his hand. The serious expression on his face is anything but flippant though, when he ducks out from under Theo’s arm and steps in front of him to frown intently at Theo’s shoulder. “You’re going to have to take your shirt off.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “What a shitty hookup. Take it off for me, Dunbar.”
“Shut up,” Liam snaps, his expression dropping from serious to flustered. His ears are turning red, Theo notices with delight.
He bites his lip against a smile, but Liam seems to have taken it as a challenge, sheathing his claws and curling his hands around the collar of Theo’s shirt. Theo suddenly realizes that he’s also a bit flustered; it’s been a long time since someone took his flirting as a challenge. The fact that it’s someone he finds objectively attractive makes it worse.
Liam tugs Theo’s shirt over his head with no ceremony, tossing it to land on a nearby cart. The sudden wash of air conditioning over his bare skin makes Theo shudder; Liam’s critical once-over down his torso doesn’t really help either. Liam can’t control his chemosignals, but he’s too focused to be projecting anything strongly right now. Theo can't read him.
“It’s here, I think.” Theo touches a finger to the spot above where he thinks he can feel the lump of metal inside him. Liam replaces Theo’s hand with his own, nodding. His skin on Theo's feels very warm, almost burning.
“Ready?” Liam asks, unsheathing his claws.
He carefully uses his other hand to grasp Theo’s shoulder to hold him in place. Theo can feel the strength in the grip. He could probably get away if he tried, but he’d have to try pretty hard.
There’s a reason that he’d had to focus on surprise and evasion instead of strength in his fights with Liam. True werewolves are stronger than chimeras in general, but Liam is in a different league than the average beta altogether. Theo would never admit this to him, even if he's pretty sure Liam already knows.
Theo nods and braces himself. “Ready.”
Liam’s claws plunge into him with no further warning. They’re razor-sharp and enter quickly, cleanly, so it hurts less than taking Gabe’s pain but still feels like being stabbed.
Theo snarls in surprise even though he’d been expecting it, knows his eyes are flashing and his canines elongating in response to a threat, but he keeps his claws sheathed through sheer force of will. He tries to back away, but he hits the wall almost immediately, the weight of Liam's hand pinning him in place. He grabs at Liam’s shirt to ground himself, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Fuck, sorry, fuck,” Liam is mumbling into his ear as his claws twist inside Theo.
It feels like he’s making ground meat of Theo’s shoulder. Theo can hear himself instinctively start up a low warning growl, his forehead dropping to Liam’s shoulder. He’s trying to keep himself from moving too much, but his instincts are screaming to wrench himself away from Liam, to protect his shoulder from further injury.
He noses his way to the crook of Liam’s neck to distract himself, getting a lungful of Liam’s chemosignals, which are projecting severe stress and anxiety. This doesn’t really help calm him, but the inherent Liam-ness of the scent does, in some convoluted way. His skin is slippery with sweat, mingling with the sweat dripping from Theo's forehead.
Liam’s keeping up a steady stream of commentary, which Theo isn’t really listening to, but when he tunes in is something like: “—sorry, sorry, I think you’re, like, fucking healing around me, so I have to cut again in places, fuck, I should’ve let Mrs. McCall do this—"
This also kind of helps right up until Liam twists his claws in a particularly painful way. Theo loses every shred of his self control and sinks his teeth into the junction of Liam’s shoulder and neck. Liam yelps, a sound more akin to a puppy than a werewolf, before he snarls and digs his claws in deeper.
Hot blood bursts over Theo’s tongue, filling his mouth and sluicing down his chin. He's hunted enough live prey to lose himself in the familiarity, the way he can both hear and feel the heartbeat of the creature in his jaws as the sharp, iron-salt tang of fresh blood floods his mouth.
The sheer volume of blood is what brings him back to himself. A rabbit bleeds out pretty quickly. Liam clearly doesn't. Theo forcibly removes his teeth from Liam’s shoulder, just as Liam pulls his claws from Theo’s shoulder with a triumphant noise.
“Got it!”
They both stare at the mangled lump of metal in his palm. Theo can feel the ruined flesh of his shoulder slowly working to knit itself back together, and as he watches, the same happens to the bite mark still pulsing blood on Liam’s shoulder. Theo, still feeling more like an animal than a man, leans back in and licks the blood away from the healing wound in apology. Liam goes stiff beneath him.
Theo finally manages to step away from him. He doesn’t know what to say. Sorry I bit you. Sorry I swallowed a few mouthfuls of your blood.
“You're a fucking asshole,” Liam says in a strangled voice, one hand coming up to cover the wound. When Theo doesn’t offer an explanation, he drops the bullet onto the cart and tosses Theo’s shirt at him.
Theo catches it with a grimace. His torso is streaked with blood, but he pulls the shirt on over it anyway. It’s kind of ruined no matter what. His shoulder screams at him when he twists to get his arm through the sleeve. Liam did enough damage that he can tell it's going to take a while to heal.
“Your face is covered in blood,” Liam points out helpfully.
Theo makes direct eye contact and lifts his shirt to wipe his mouth and chin. Liam looks away, his jaw clenching. His scent is doing something complicated that Theo can't quite pinpoint, a mixture of annoyance and disgust that masks something else lingering deeper, just underneath.
Theo takes a step closer, trying not to be conspicuous about his curiosity, but Mrs. McCall reappears just at that moment, effectively distracting them both.
“I can’t reach Scott,” she says in a small voice. Her scent is all over the place as well, but fear seems to be the primary component. Theo doesn’t know her very well, but she seems like she might be paler than usual. “Chris and the Sheriff will be coming to collect the bodies.”
Theo takes this as his cue to clear out. There’s a lot of people Theo would rather not see, and Chris Argent is very close to the top of that list.
“What were you two doing?” Mrs. McCall asks suspiciously. Her eyes roam over their blood-soaked shirts. “It sounded like you were fighting. Boys, I know you heal quickly, but causing each other bodily harm is—”
“We weren't fighting,” Theo protests.
“Just some, uh, surgery,” Liam says with a wince.
Mrs. McCall's jaw drops. “Are you kidding me?” she demands. “This is a hospital! I'm a nurse! If you'd waited five minutes, we could’ve done this safely!”
Theo is not about to admit that he would rather let Liam perform surgery on him than someone he barely knows. In fact, given his history, he would rather do it himself than let a doctor near him. He keeps his mouth shut.
“You can check his shoulder now if you want,” Liam offers. “It’s probably not healed, since he’s not really a werewolf.”
Theo scowls at him. Liam smiles innocently back.
Mrs. McCall looks like she's seriously considering ordering Theo to take his shirt off again for inspection, but thankfully, her phone rings. She's immediately distracted, pulling it from her pocket and wandering away again.
He waits until Liam’s distracted by the reappearance of Mason, Corey, and Nolan to quietly slink from the hospital into the barren parking lot. His truck is where he left it, keys still in the ignition.
He has to drive one-handed, his shoulder not cooperating enough to be elevated against the wheel, but it's mostly healed by the time he gets to the outskirts of town. By then, he can feel the urge to shift writhing beneath his skin. He feels too far gone to keep his lucidity at the wheel much longer.
His truck is unlikely to be stolen or impounded from the warehouse district, so it’s there he leaves it to collect dust. The trees nearby hum to him, wind slithering through their leaves and branches. He breaks into a jog toward their song.
When he’s deep enough in the preserve that he’s certain no one’s around, he shifts into his wolf form, not bothering to strip, shedding the clothes he’s wearing off like an old skin.
He’s off like a shot as soon as all his bones settle. It feels so fucking good to sprint, dodging trees and fallen logs, letting the exhausted ache from his mind settle into his bone and muscle instead. He’s entertaining the idea of continuing on indefinitely, leaving Beacon Hills for fucking good and living as a wolf for awhile, when a familiar sight causes him to stop in his tracks.
Pebbles spray from beneath his paws as he comes to a halt on the bank of the creek where Tara died.
He hadn’t even realized he’d been circling around to this area of the preserve, but here it is, the bridge familiar in its awfulness, the water dark and murky and cold.
No matter how hard he tries to stay away, he always ends up back here. The place Tara took her last breath, and one of the last places Theo had a heart that was his own. He’s almost certain that if he tried going anywhere else, the other side of the country, the other side of the world, he would end up wandering back here somehow.
Spending time in this place always makes Tara's heart inside him physically ache, like her ghost lingers here to try and reclaim it from his chest with her icy hands.
This time, though, the ache makes him think of Liam’s heartbeat beneath his tongue, the healthy, whole pulse of it, a heart that belongs to Liam entirely. The thought makes nausea churn through him. Luckily, his thoughts are always more animalistic when he has the wolf's body. Instead of worrying at his weird feelings about Liam like they’re a persistent hangnail the way he would as a human, he slides down the bank to dip his snout into the water.
The cold of it washes away the taste of blood in his mouth.
-
Theo doesn’t see Liam again until a couple of weeks later, after the Anuk-ite has long been defeated and Monroe has vanished. He can’t reason himself into switching back to human form until he has a close call with a few stray hunters, and suddenly his truck seems like a much better place to sleep than the forest floor.
Even after Monroe’s disappearance, Beacon Hills is still crawling with hunters. A good percentage of the population is aware that there are supernatural creatures among them and don’t care much beyond keeping their guns a bit closer at night, but like always, there’s some die-hards that get together during the full moons to prowl the woods.
The cops have also been more active during full moons. Theo assumes it's the Sheriff working to keep the hunters in check, but there’s not much he can do unless they actually shoot someone. Theo is not at all interested in being the unlucky someone.
All this to say, the preserve is not the best place to live as a full shift wolf right now, especially one that looks like Theo, pitch black and massive.
All his clothes and phone are locked into the trunk of his truck, with the key hidden nearby, in a crevice between two buildings that’s nigh impossible to reach in wolf form. Theo’s pretty sure the Sheriff and Argent are itching to pin a charge on him, and he really doesn’t want that charge to be public indecency.
Theo can only think of two people who might be willing to do him a favor. Scott’s a bleeding heart. He owes Theo one for helping out at the hospital, but the longer Theo thinks about showing up at Scott’s house in wolf form, the more repulsive the idea is. That leaves Liam.
He waits until evening, when he’s more likely to be mistaken for a really large stray dog. The residential street Liam lives on feels like it has floodlights instead of streetlights as Theo makes his way to the address he’d memorized ages ago, slinking through the shadows cast by the houses.
It’s getting close to midnight when he finally reaches the house. The moon watches like a quiet specter in the cloudless sky, not quite full, but getting close. Theo pricks his ears, listening for breathing or voices from inside the house. He can only hear one person, instead of the three he’d been expecting.
Theo circles around to the window that he knows leads to Liam’s room, sits back, and barks. Nothing. He barks again, and again, and finally hears Liam startle awake.
Theo barks once more for good measure and waits. Liam slams open the window like he has a personal grudge against it. His hair is sleep-mussed and sticking up in every direction, his eyes barely open.
“What the fuck?” he demands, and then freezes. He repeats, softer, “What the fuck? Derek?”
Theo growls. Liam tilts his head at him, doglike, before inhaling like he’s trying to place Theo’s scent. It only takes a few seconds for him to process before his face goes blank with shock.
“That can’t be right,” Liam mumbles, scrubbing at his eyes. “Theo? What the fuck. Give me a second.”
He disappears from the window, and Theo heads back to the front door, sitting down on the porch to wait. Liam opens the front door already glaring. He hasn’t bothered to fix his hair.
“Are you Theo?” he demands. He doesn’t wait for Theo to give any sort of answer before he continues. “How long have you been evolved? Why didn’t you tell me?” He jabs a finger at Theo’s nose. “What are you even doing here? We all thought you’d left Beacon Hills.”
Theo snaps at his finger, making him jump back with a hiss.
“Yeah, definitely you, Raeken,” Liam mutters. He runs a hand through his hair, looking frazzled. “If any of my neighbors see me they’re going to think I’m insane. Come in. I'm guessing you need clothes.”
He shoves the door open and disappears inside. Theo trots after him, pushing the door shut with his nose.
“Wait here,” Liam orders before heading back up the stairs.
If Theo wasn’t here for a favor, he would probably follow just to be an asshole. He lets Liam have this one, wandering into the kitchen instead. The house seems almost offensively clean, practically unlived in. There’s two solitary dishes drying on the rack. Theo hungrily eyes the loaf of bread he can see on the counter; he hasn’t had human food in weeks.
Liam catches him at it when he walks into the kitchen carrying an armful of clothes. His eyes flit to the bread before he says, “Bathroom’s there,” and leads Theo down the hall, tossing the clothes onto the counter.
Theo presses his nose into Liam’s hand, not even sure himself why he’s doing it, but it makes Liam smile.
“Yeah, you’re welcome,” he says, scratching Theo behind one ear before closing the bathroom door.
Shifting back to human is a very specific kind of agony. It’s one of the reasons why Theo doesn’t shift to wolf often, and why he tends to stay as a wolf for long periods of time if he does. His wolf form is more powerful than the chimera form, sure, but more trouble than its worth sometimes. The transformation is fast, a few seconds at most, but it feels like every bone in his body breaking simultaneously.
He staggers when he tries to stand. It takes a few practice steps, but once he’s certain he’s not going to slip and knock himself out on the edge of the counter, he pulls on the sweatpants and shirt Liam had left for him. They smell so strongly of Liam that Theo feels like he’s been scent-marked after he puts them on. It’s not a very comfortable feeling.
Liam’s waiting for him in the kitchen. He holds out a ham and cheese sandwich and commands, “Eat. Then explain.”
Theo stares at the sandwich, wondering when the last time was that someone else made food for him. He's half expecting Liam to snatch it away as soon as he reaches for it, but Liam's expression just becomes more exasperated the longer Theo waits.
Theo hesitantly takes the sandwich. When Liam still doesn’t take it back, he devours it in three bites. Liam leans his hip against the counter and watches him, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. Wordlessly, he starts making Theo a second sandwich.
“I’ve been able to shift into a wolf since I was thirteen,” Theo says once he's swallowed the last bite. He leans back against the counter, watching Liam methodically organize his ingredients. “I didn’t tell you because I’ve never told anyone. And I’m here because I need clothes to get to where I hid my truck keys.”
Liam’s quiet as he processes this. He carefully smears butter on both pieces of bread before he says, “Where’s that?”
“Warehouse district.”
“Why’d you come here?” Liam asks, turning to look Theo straight in the eye. Theo hesitates, trying to think of a way to say I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go that doesn’t sound incredibly pathetic. “Not like—I don’t care that you did,” Liam hurries to say. His scent spikes with anxiety, which Theo finds weirdly endearing. “Just curious.”
“It was either you or Scott,” Theo admits. He lifts his hands, palm-up, pretending to weigh his options. “You were the lesser of two evils.”
“Wow,” Liam says, rolling his eyes, but he’s grinning. A moment later, his brow furrows, the smile fading from his face. “You’re lucky you chose me, though. Scott’s not in Beacon Hills.”
This was news to Theo. Most of the preserve still smelled like the McCall pack, a very clear indication of their territory. Theo hadn’t run into any of them during his weeks as a wolf, but he’d just assumed he was really lucky, or they were avoiding him. Almost certainly, wherever the McCall pack was, their alpha was too.
“He’s not?”
Liam’s face soured considerably. This was clearly a touchy subject. “No. He went to hunt down Monroe. Malia, Lydia, Stiles, and Derek went with him. They made Mason, Corey, and me stay back because of school, and to, like, watch over Beacon Hills or whatever. Make sure no one else takes over while they’re gone.”
Theo snorts. “I bet that went over well.”
Liam finally grins again, a bit sheepish. “Oh, totally. I handled that shit like a pro. You wouldn’t believe how calmly and peacefully that conversation ended.” He finishes the sandwich and passes it over. “You could try to taste it this time.”
“Okay, mom,” Theo snarks, but he takes a smaller bite than before.
“No, it was bad,” Liam admits in a mumble, his face scrunching up. “I said some shit. That I regret. And uh, I haven’t spoken to Scott at all since.” He scrubs his face with his hands, and emerges looking more tired than before. Theo wonders if he’s been sleeping enough. “I don’t like being here without them. I feel like a lone wolf, vulnerable all the time, you know? Mason and Corey being around helps, but—” Liam tilts his head to look at Theo out of the corner of his eye. “You’d know all about that, huh?”
Theo shrugs and hides his discomfort with the question by taking another bite. “I guess. I don’t feel vulnerable all the time.” A lie. Liam won’t be able to tell. “I think I’m just used to it.”
“Right,” Liam says, staring into the distance. “Maybe it’s different if you’re an omega.”
“I’m not anything,” Theo reminds him. “Chimera.”
“Right,” Liam repeats. Abruptly, he pushes away from the counter. “Can I come with you to get your truck? You can spend the night here if you want. My dad’s on night shift and my mom’s at a business conference, so you won’t run into them as long as you get up at the same time I do. We have a spare bedroom.”
Theo’s knee-jerk reaction to the offer is to say no. The word is already sitting on his tongue; his truck is a perfectly acceptable place to sleep. If he thought the offer was being made out of pity, he would definitely have said no, fuck off, and then also avoided Liam for a few days just to be thorough. After the conversation they’d just had, though, Theo’s pretty certain Liam’s offering for selfish reasons.
If Theo’s being honest, he’s enjoying the company too, even if it is Scott's short-fuse beta. Coyotes, wolves, and humans are all social animals—being completely alone out in the preserve has been driving him a bit crazy.
“Okay,” Theo agrees. He polishes off the rest of his sandwich in one bite and steps away from the counter as well. “Wanna race?”
-
They fall into a hesitant routine. Liam offers him the spare bedroom when his parents aren’t around, and Theo becomes his indentured chauffeur to school and from lacrosse practice whenever he accepts. Mason and Corey are, predictably, not very happy about Theo’s continued presence.
“What’s he doing here?” Corey had asked the first time Theo showed up at the bleachers during lacrosse practice, disdain dripping from every word. Theo can respect the commitment to hatred. It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it.
Theo had motioned expansively to the field, where practice was still in full swing. “Can’t a guy show an interest in the local lacrosse team?”
“Not if the guy is you,” Mason had snapped.
Theo made a face and dropped the act. “Down, boy. I’m here for Liam. He told me practice would be over by now.”
“What are you even still doing here? We were all hoping you’d be halfway across the country by now.” Mason got to his feet and advanced toward Theo like he’d forgotten he was a human and posed about as much of a threat to Theo as a fruit fly. Theo’s words seemed to register, and his expression turned suspicious. “And what do you want with Liam?”
“Mason,” Corey said it like a warning, getting to his feet as well.
Theo had shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels, the cocky mask he wore around members of the McCall pack sliding into place. “You caught me. How will I ever be able to accomplish my evil plan of kidnapping Scott’s favorite beta now?”
“Yo, coach, give me a minute,” Theo heard Liam say, and then he was jogging towards them, his expression already shuttered and annoyed. He pointed his lacrosse stick at Theo. “Can you behave?”
“I’m on my best behavior,” Theo had promised, a hand over his heart. Mason made an ugly noise in the back of his throat.
Liam turned to Mason and Corey, rubbing at his forehead like he was getting a headache. Theo had felt a sudden urge to reach for his arm and see if he could still take pain, or if the whole Gabe thing had been a fluke. It was a crazy urge. He’d squashed it down immediately. “Guys, he’s my ride home. Try not to kill each other for like ten minutes.”
“Why is Theo Raeken your ride home?” Mason had asked, aghast. Behind him, Corey’s face mirrored the sentiment.
“Mason,” Liam had said, pained. “We’re friends.”
Liam had been called back to the field by the aggravated coach after that, leaving Theo alone to deal with that bombshell. It’d been news even to Theo, who had not been aware there was anyone on earth who considered him a friend.
“That’s unexpected,” Corey had said with a furrowed brow, staring after Liam. “Last I checked, you guys were still punching each other in the face every other day.”
Theo wasn’t sure either what had changed or when it had changed. They used to be at each other’s throats all the time; he had no idea when they’d started having conversations instead of fights.
“None of us have forgotten that you’re really good at manipulation and brainwashing,” Mason told Theo.
“Liam hasn’t forgotten either,” Theo had pointed out.
They’d reached an impasse. Mason and Corey spent the rest of the practice ignoring him in frosty silence, and Theo didn’t try bothering them. When Liam emerged from the locker rooms, his hair damp and plastered to his forehead, Mason had pulled him aside for another hushed conversation that Theo pretended he couldn’t hear perfectly.
After that, things are more cordial. Mason and Corey are almost always in the bleachers during lacrosse practice; Theo gets the sense that the rest of the pack’s absence is affecting them as much as Liam. Theo isn’t considered pack by a long shot, but his presence means more safety in numbers. They still look at him with contempt every time he shows up, but they aren't actively picking fights anymore.
Shame. Theo likes a good fight every now and then.
It’s strange that their dedication to sticking together isn’t helping them pick up on the fact that there’s something different about Liam. Granted, Theo hadn’t noticed to begin with either.
It starts with Liam’s scent changing, ever so slightly, like a chemical imbalance is occurring. Theo initially ignores it. Something as minor as an iron deficiency could cause someone’s scent to change. Then Liam starts becoming more irritable, his temper flaring during almost every conversation they have.
Theo doesn’t mind it. Liam’s fun when he’s angry. He's probably the only person that thinks so, but Theo’s used to people taking their anger out on him. A lot of the time in the past, it’s been deserved. What makes Liam different is that Theo sometimes feels like he has a hand on the dial, his finger on the pulse of Liam’s anger: he can turn it up or down to whatever suits him.
It’s a lot of power to have over another person. Theo almost wishes it’d been given to someone else, someone that would be more careful with it. At the same time, he's selfishly glad to have it.
Liam's already in the bleachers showered when Theo gets there that day. The rest of the lacrosse team is still on the field. Theo sees Corey and Mason first, and then Liam a few feet away, sprawled across the bench with a baseball cap tipped over his face. Theo catches his scent automatically and isn't surprised to find it steeped dark with anger. It takes him a bit longer to notice that Mason and Corey's scents are mirroring Liam's, although to a lesser degree. When Theo catches Mason's eye, he can see the exhaustion in them.
“Liam,” Theo says.
Liam startles, the baseball cap falling off his face. He sits up, retrieving the cap and rubbing at his eyes. “Theo. When did you get here?” His voice is flat, almost emotionless.
Theo raises an eyebrow. “Ten seconds ago.”
Liam's brow furrows, like he's also searching for a reason why he didn't hear or scent Theo's approach, but he just says, “Great. Let's go.”
He swings himself out of the bleachers and stalks toward the parking lot without so much as a glance at Mason and Corey.
Theo watches him leave, disconcerted. “Is he alright?”
“He got into a fight with Nolan,” Corey says, his mouth tight. “Coach told him to take the day off to cool down.”
“I found him shifted in the locker room,” Mason adds. “Can you get him to tell you what the fuck’s going on with him? Because he won't tell us.”
He raises his voice for the last part, although it’s unnecessary; Liam can definitely hear every word they’re saying.
“I can give it a shot,” Theo says, turning away.
Liam’s waiting for him by the truck, leaning back against the passenger side door. He’s scowling at the ground, but he looks up at Theo’s approach. His eyes are blazing. “There’s nothing wrong with me.”
“Sure looks like it,” Theo says disdainfully. It's second nature, the words, the tone. Liam's just so pretty when he's a ticking timebomb.
Liam goes from four to ten in a blink, baring his fangs in a snarl. It sounds animalistic enough that Theo starts to worry about the integrity of the inside of his truck if he lets Liam in like this. Theo also doesn’t really want to get into a fistfight in the school parking lot.
He lifts his hands, palms up: Hey, I'm innocent here. “Dial it back, Liam, I’m just riling you up.”
“Asshole,” Liam mutters. It comes out a bit muffled through his fangs. Theo can tell Liam's trying without success to get them to retract. He can sense the chaotic mess of the chemosignals Liam’s projecting, and they’re so twisted up that even Theo can barely begin to decipher them. He’s not surprised Liam’s body is in too much turmoil to obey him.
Theo steps closer, reaching out to grab his chin. Liam’s face goes blank with shock, his chemosignals flooding with so much confusion that it almost entirely blankets the anger. Good.
“Show me,” Theo says quietly.
Liam's eyes flash yellow for a second, and right as Theo’s expecting to get decked in the face for his trouble, Liam reluctantly opens his mouth. The obedience dizzies Theo.
Mesmerized, he lets go of Liam's chin to press his thumb to one of the wickedly sharp points. When Liam just stares at him, eyes wide, Theo applies more pressure.
Blood wells up at the puncture. Liam’s fangs retract instantaneously.
Liam gets both hands up to Theo's chest and shoves him away, hard enough that he stumbles.
“What the hell, Theo?” he demands, high-pitched. One hand is pressed over his mouth, his eyes focused on Theo’s hand, where a single drop of blood drips down his palm before the wound heals shut.
Theo laughs and licks the blood from his hand. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Liam’s scent goes strange again, convoluted enough that Theo struggles to disentangle it. It’s the same scent Theo had smelled at the hospital, mingling with anger and confusion. This time, there’s nothing to distract Theo from identifying it.
He can’t help his delighted grin. “Are you into blood, Dunbar?”
“I need you to shut the fuck up,” Liam says in a strangled voice. “Can we go?”
-
Theo drives them out to the preserve instead of to Liam's house. Liam holds himself so still for the entire drive that it's starting to freak Theo out. Liam usually never stops moving, tapping his fingers to the rhythm of whatever song's playing, restlessly moving his legs.
“Where are we going?” is the only thing he says for the entire drive, once he realizes they're not taking their usual route.
Theo parks where he usually leaves his truck if he wants to be left alone to sleep, next to an abandoned elevated hunting blind that's been left to rot. It’s not far from the main trail that hunters use to travel between their sections of the preserve, but Theo’s been coming here for ages and never run into anyone, unless they’d already been following him.
“Come on.” Theo plucks his keys from the ignition and shoves them in his pocket. He's not even sure where he's planning on going; he just knows Liam could benefit from being in a place where it doesn't matter if he shifts.
He climbs out of the truck before Liam can protest, beginning the slow trek downhill to where the ground is less rocky. Theo’s creek is nearby; he can feel the pull of it, even as a human. He steadfastly walks the opposite direction. He doesn’t want to take Liam there.
Theo hears leaves rustling as Liam jogs to catch up, and then his hand grabs Theo's shoulder from behind. He freezes, resisting the urge to lash out. He might have, if it was anyone else. Without his noticing, at some point during their time fighting Monroe and the Anuk-ite, Liam had become someone Theo trusted to watch his back.
Liam waits for Theo to turn to look at him, the tight-lipped expression on his face the one that Theo usually associates with getting his nose broken. He waits, wary, but Liam just asks, “How did you learn how to—how do you control it? The shifting.”
Theo’s blindsided by the question. “I haven't had trouble controlling my shifts since—” His early teens. Emotional dysregulation had not been something the Doctors tolerated. He’d had a choice between control or pain.
“Since you evolved, right? You can do what Derek does. The full wolf thing.”
The real answer is both yes and no. Derek Hale evolved all on his own, with no guiding hands and, from what Theo had heard, no clue that it was even happening. Theo is part-werecoyote, a species that seems to have an easier time getting to full shifts than werewolves. It’s one of the main reasons that the Doctors chose that as part of his blend.
Liam barrels on, apparently finished waiting for Theo to get his thoughts in order. “I want you to teach me how to do it.”
“I don’t know if it’s something I can teach,” Theo says uncomfortably. Even if he could, why would Liam want to do it while Scott isn't around? “It’s going to take weeks, maybe months. You’re going to weaken and lose your powers during that time. I don’t think now is the best—”
“I need to be able to control myself,” Liam pleads. He tightens his grip on Theo's arm, his eyes desperate. “I used to be better at controlling it, but after the whole thing with the Anuk-ite, it feels like I'm back to square one. I can’t go to college when I'm constantly on the verge of losing it.”
Theo raises an eyebrow. “Because you stopped taking your meds.”
Liam recoils, his face going blank with shock. “How did you—”
“Please,” Theo says, rolling his eyes. “You smell different when you’re taking your meds. At first I thought it was because Scott left and you don’t smell like him constantly anymore, but I caught on that day you lost it during practice and your little packmembers forced you to take lorazepam.”
That’d been a fun couple of hours. Theo arrived to pick up Liam from lacrosse practice and they'd been thrilled to hand him over. Theo had been peeved about it at the time (they could've just called Theo instead of drugging him), but he got to see what Liam acted like when he was high on benzodiazepines, so it kind of evened out. It’d worn off quickly — werewolf metabolism — but it’d been an educational hour for Theo. Mainly because Liam had just drowsily talked about his History class for his captive audience of one.
“I didn’t realize you were paying that close attention to my scent,” Liam mutters.
Theo pays close attention to everyone’s chemosignals, a fun little paranoid symptom of his upbringing, but it is true he’s not paying close enough attention that he would’ve noticed this barely-perceptible shift in just anyone. He’s not about to admit this to Liam, though.
He quickly moves on in case Liam is interested in continuing to pursue this line of thought. “Being an evolved werewolf won’t stop your outbursts when they’re not related to the full moon. It might give you more control over your shifts, but it’s not going to—”
“I know it’s not going to fix everything,” Liam says through gritted teeth. He’s pacing now; Theo can smell the restlessness and anxiety coming off him in waves. “I know I’m going to be like this forever. I just want to make sure I won’t snap and kill someone in the dorms.”
Theo frowns. This must really be bothering him. Or he’s still getting used to being off his meds.
“Fine,” he says with a half-hearted roll of his eyes. He was never not going to do it, but Liam hasn’t figured out that Theo's weak for him yet and he'd rather keep that secret a while longer.
Liam freezes. “Really?”
“Yeah, fine. But manage your expectations. It's an incredibly rare, basically undocumented process. The only other beta I know who managed it is Derek Hale. Scott can’t even do it.”
Liam’s face splits open in a grin wider than Theo’s ever seen on him. It doesn’t seem like he’s managing his expectations. He bounds toward Theo, lightning-fast, and the only reason Theo’s hackles don’t immediately rise is because Liam’s chemosignals are flooding him with his delight. They collide in a tangle of limbs and hit the ground hard.
“What the fuck?” is all Theo manages to get out before Liam’s clambering on top of him and pinning him down by his wrists.
“Thank you, thank you,” Liam is saying when Theo shakes off his surprise. He’s still grinning. Theo makes a token effort to free his wrists but Liam muscles him back down easily. “Wow, you’re really bad at wrestling.”
Theo bares his teeth at him. “Want me to actually try?”
“I’m stronger than you.”
“I’m faster than you.”
“No, you’re not. What was it you called yourself? A ‘cheap knock-off’ of a real werewolf?” Liam taunts, leaning closer. He smells incredible, remnants of rolling around in the woods in autumn—fallen leaves, damp earth, the sweetness of valley oak.
“I can’t believe you remember that,” Theo groans, staring up at the sky to keep from doing something stupid, like kissing him. He remembers saying that to Liam— vividly— before anyone in the McCall pack knew that he was a chimera.
“Yeah, I remember it, you manipulative bastard.”
“Manipulative bastard?” Theo repeats. He meets Liam's eyes again, grins at the challenge he sees there. “Those are big words for someone begging me for a favor.”
“Sorry, who’s begging right now?”
“Not me.” Theo wraps his legs around Liam's waist and engages his core, propelling himself up against Liam's grip.
Caught off guard, Liam falls backward, making the critical mistake of loosening his grip on Theo's wrists. Theo has him flat on his back with claws pressed to his jugular before he can blink.
“Aaaaand you're dead,” Theo drawls. Liam stares up at him, dazed. Theo feels a gulp work its way down Liam's throat beneath his hand. “Hasn't Scott ever taught you not to underestimate a weaker enemy?”
“Okay, I get it,” Liam says testily. “Get off me.”
Theo might be enjoying this a bit too much. He quirks an eyebrow. “Beg.”
Liam snarls at him, light glinting off his canines, and Theo decides not to push his luck. He knows what those teeth feel like. As tempting as a sparring session is, Theo's not very keen on showing his entire hand, which he gets dangerously close to doing, sometimes, around Liam.
He clambers to his feet and offers Liam a hand, half expecting him to knock it away, but Liam's apparently become less of a sore loser in the time that Theo's known him. He takes Theo's hand.
-
“The Doctors called it a spiritual and physical equilibrium,” Theo explains, the next time they have a spare few hours to disappear into the preserve together. The day is cold with a biting wind; they're walking a well-trodden path with their hands jammed into their pockets. Liam nods along with everything Theo is saying, but he can't hide the confused furrow in his brow. “You need to be able to find a balance between your human side and your inner wolf.”
“Great. Easy.” Liam gnaws at his lip. “How do I do that?”
Theo's not about to suggest any of the methods the Doctors used to induce his own transformation. He's planning on modifying the tamer ones to not be human rights violations as they go. The transformation into an evolved werewolf is a product of mental acceptance, an acceptance of the beast side and the human side, so naturally the Doctors’ plan of action was to force Theo into situations that required him to rely on his chimera form to survive.
A particularly memorable method was dousing him in cold water and locking him in the freezers where they kept their temperature-controlled experiments and pharmaceuticals. Trapped in subzero temperatures, Theo had become intimately familiar with how Tara had felt right before her death.
“I don’t know,” Theo says, instead of introducing Liam to the horrors of his early teen years.
“What the fuck,” Liam says, affronted.
“What? I was thirteen. I have no idea how to recreate it.”
“So you're useless.”
Theo elbows him hard, making Liam double over with a wheeze. “I'm saying that we can try a bunch of different methods, but none of them are guaranteed. Mental acceptance isn't something you can just decide to have, dumbass. Some people work at it for decades.”
Liam eyes Theo's ribcage like he's considering retaliation, but he just straightens, says: “I don't have decades.”
“No shit,” Theo says with a snort. “Maybe you should start brainstorming other methods to keep from killing someone in the dorms.”
“What? That's basically admitting defeat.”
Theo valiantly keeps himself from tearing his own hair out. It's like talking to a brick wall. “Why don’t you just take your meds, Liam?”
Liam's face twists. “Don't ask me that.”
Theo stops walking to stare at him, taking in the uncomfortable hunch of his shoulders and the way he's refusing to make eye contact. His chemosignals are lost in the wind; Theo can't get a decent read of him. This is all unusual behavior for Liam, who tends toward anger when he's nervous or anxious, not avoidance.
Liam winces, then stutters out, “Everyone's always—my mom, Mason, Corey—I can’t get them off my back about it. I didn't even need them until a month ago. Why can't you just—I was hoping you'd—”
So Mason and Corey had noticed. Kudos to them. Theo considers watching Liam squirm for a bit longer, but he takes the high road and starts walking again. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Liam asks, hurrying to catch up. Theo doesn’t need to be able to catch his scent to notice the relief visible in every line of his face.
“Whatever. I have better things to do than shove your meds down your throat. Just don’t blame me when this doesn’t work.”
“I won’t,” Liam says, his face deadly serious. “So how do we start?”
Theo's given it a bit of thought. By which he means it'd kept him up most of the night yesterday. “You need to have full control over your animal side. That means being able to keep from shifting when you’re angry and shift at will when you’re not. So.” He plants his feet in Liam’s path. Liam nearly walks into him, but he catches himself at the last moment. “Shift, right now.”
Liam blinks, like he’d been expecting something different, but he closes his eyes, a furrow of concentration appearing in his brow.
Shifting when calm is a deceptively difficult thing to do. It comes easy as breathing when emotions are running high— any emotion, really— fear, stress, anger, even excitement, but Theo’s willing to bet that Liam’s never tried shifting when he’s relaxed. Most werewolves don’t even realize they’re drawing upon their emotions to shift.
“Fuck,” Liam mumbles, when a few moments have passed with nothing happening.
“Come on, Dunbar, put some fucking effort into it,” Theo mocks, shoving his palm against Liam’s chest to send him staggering backward.
Liam has to crouch to keep his balance, and when he meets Theo’s eyes again, they’ve switched from their regular sky-blue to bright yellow. He growls, the curl of his lip revealing his fangs.
Theo grins at him. “See how easy it is when you have an emotion to draw upon? Even mild annoyance helps.”
“My annoyance is anything but mild right now,” Liam snaps, but contrary to his words and tone, the yellow is fading from his eyes, his canines retracting. “I don’t know how when I’m not really feeling anything,” he says, an irritated clench to his jaw. “It’s like, I’m trying to grab it and it’s just out of reach.”
“It’s not easy,” Theo agrees. “Practice. Are you calm?”
“No. I’m frustrated.”
“Close enough. Try again.”