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I - The Cage.
However Theo had expected to spend his Friday night, it was not like this. He never would have guessed, to find himself caged (and barefoot?) in a shack in the middle of the forest during the new moon. Not with Liam knocked out by his legs. Nor Mason moaning in pain on the other side of the cage while cradling Corey’s unconscious head to his chest. Especially not while being kidnapped by two evil witches. Which, apparently, exist.
He peers at their tall figures, clad in long black capes, the hoods hiding all their facial features. He quickly averts his eyes from the flames burning in the fireplace behind them when the deep throbbing pain in his temples only intensifies. He could only recall the last few minutes before the kidnapping.
He was driving his truck, with Liam riding shotgun and Mason and Corey in the backseat. They were going out to get pizzas and probably spend the night holed up in Liam’s room, playing video games or cards against humanity. Liam and Mason were bickering about something trivial and he had yelled at them to shut up. The last thing he remembers is Corey’s scream to keep his eyes on the road, as the two dark figures had appeared in the middle of the lane, then the taste of wolfsbane. Which, he notices, has also conveniently been sprayed on the metal bars. Yikes.
Liam stirs at his feet, looking up and then around them, going into a frenzy, attacking the bars of the cage, only to be shocked and thrown back against Theo, as his fingers react to the barrier of Mountain Ash. He growls at them. The two figures laugh at his expenses. Liam’s eyes flash golden, and only go back to his usual blue when Theo’s cold hand presses between his shoulder blades. “Where are we? Are you okay? Mason? Corey?” Then louder, directed at the two witches, “What do you want with us?”
“I’m okay” Mason replies, with his arms wrapped around Corey, who has seemingly woken up. “Corey too.” Theo projects his calm heartbeat onto Liam’s shoulder, still studying their enemies. Liam hums, focusing his breathing and matching his heartbeat to Theo’s. He fights to maintain it as one of the two figures speaks.
“We are the Cult of the Nemeton. Every New Moon, we slaughter a Supernatural to appease our beloved tree. Blood shall nourish his roots.” They chuckle at Liam’s growl. Their voices sound eerily familiar to Theo, but he can’t quite place them. The thrumming in his head, though subsided, is not helping. The taller one continues, voice sharp with disgust: “Calm yourself. We need a lone wolf, so to speak.” He pauses, glaring at his companion’s snort. Liam grumbles deep in his chest. “Someone who has given, but has never received. Someone burning with unrelieved attraction.” He looks directly at Theo, and carries on. “Someone like you. My magic can sense that you are the perfect candidate. Alone. Cold. Heavy with evil deeds. Your blood shall nurture the Nemeton.” Theo’s eyes flash gold, and he can almost swear that he’s seen a familiar flash under one of those capes. His hand travels to Liam’s shoulder and he squeezes, arming himself with a cockiness that his pounding heart does not back up. Do witches have super hearing? He hopes not, but smirks anyway. Before he can talk, Mason’s voice shoots up.
“We have a pack. By now, they know we’re missing, and they’ll find us. You won’t get away with this.” The second hooded figure laughs and replies “We don’t care about you or your pack. We only want the lone wolf. He has no pack to speak of. We know who you are, who your alpha is.” Then points her hand at Theo. Mason wonders where he’s already seen the little black ring on her pointer finger. “He’ll be dead by midnight, and we’ll be well on our journey by morning.” Mason grits his teeth and grasps the bars, but Liam is quicker. “Just wait until I get out of here, I’ll make you regret this.” They laugh again and leave, chanting with chilling glee. Mason throws himself back, landing between Corey’s arms, which instinctively wrap around him. He looks furious.
“They’re right. I’m not in the pack. I don’t belong.” Theo speaks quietly from his corner. Despite the fire, he feels cold and mourns the loss of his leather jacket. He has retracted from Liam and the others, feeling a pang of hurt with each time the pack was mentioned.
“It’s not true.” Corey says quietly, from behind Mason’s neck. Theo looks at him in surprise, it’s rather unusual for Corey to speak up. That made his words that much more important. “We need to find a solution. We need to invalidate one of the conditions they set...” his voice trails off. “...so that they can’t kill Theo, or their ritual will be ruined. Corey you’re a genius!” Continues Mason. “Let’s see, they said that he needs to receive something that has never been there. They probably mean love. No offense, man.” He shoots an apologetic look at Theo, who grimaces and brings his knees in front of his heart. “None taken.”
“Unrelieved attraction, unrelieved attraction...” Mason keeps mumbling, shifting his eyes from Theo to Liam. He knows of the crush that Theo has on Liam; the former isn’t exactly sneaky with all the longing stares at Liam’s lips, but he isn’t sure how the latter would take his suggestion. Liam has a big fat crush that rivals Theo’s own, but he’s also so oblivious it’s frustrating. Mason takes a deep breath and hopes for the better. He knows this could very well crash and burn their friendship, but yet another broken nose is better than being sacrificed to the Nemeton. “Liam, you need to fuck Theo.”
“WHAT?!” Both Liam and Theo yell, only to be shushed hastily by Corey, who is studying the bars ad how they connect to the ground. Mason sighs and carries on “There’s like, near constant sexual tension between the two of you. If you resolve that, one of their conditions will be void and they won’t harm Theo. It’ll buy us time. Hopefully."
"Hopefully?!" screeches Liam, flailing his arms about. Theo feels his heart pounding too loudly behind his ears and swallows around the lump in his throat. “No.” He says firmly, shutting his eyes and missing the sad puppy look that dawns on Liam’s face. He can’t give up. They’d find a way. He refuses to acknowledge Tara's taunting whispers that he deserves it. The witch's voice echoes in his head.
Someone who has given, but never received.
What a load of cliché-y bullshit. Why is it always about sex? Theo Raeken is a virgin. Oh, if the others knew, he'd never live it down. He sinks back a little, still in a sitting position, shifting one leg down and resting his arm on the opposite knee, his mind barely registering Liam’s voice in the background.
“...I know Mace, but still.” Mason sighs again, unfolding Corey’s arms from around his chest and moving closer to Liam. Looking at Theo, he says “It’s the only way.” Theo growls softly, the coyote rising to the surface, threatening to shift. After a few tense minutes, Theo gives a frustrated grunt and takes several grounding breaths through gritted teeth. What is one more loss? One more piece to give? His internal struggle is plain on his features, but he is quick to school his face with a bravado that hasn't felt his own since he'd been dragged to hell.
Theo gives a defeated sigh and looks up at Mason, then at Corey, “Don’t watch, please?”. His voice is so soft that Corey’s heart breaks a little. He looks so much younger than he did when he was his alpha. Corey tugs Mason into his arms again and moves away, using the floorboards to camouflage them. Mason sees him point to a corner where he can sneak his hand and break the Mountain Ash barrier, but before they can get to that, they have to move one of the bars. They choose the most fragile-looking and, with Mason’s hoodie to cover his hands, Corey starts prying.
Theo looks back at Liam, who’s staring intensely at him, his blue gaze burning holes into his neck. Liam tugs his own shirt over his head and tosses it away, while moving closer to Theo and caressing his face. Theo retracts, he doesn’t want fake affection. He’s wishing to be anywhere else. He thinks back to the coldness of winter, spent back in the backseat of his truck, when it had snowed so much the roads were blocked off, with only a light blanket and his red hoodie to protect him from the cold seeping into his bones. When Liam kisses him, though, he can’t help but kiss back, melting into it. Theo lets Liam’s taste distract him from the soft gasp that comes from Mason at the sight of his scarred torso, when his shirt is brought up and tangles with his shoulders, tearing until only the collar and a few fabric strands are dangling from his neck.
Liam presses gently on his chest, lying him down and settling between his legs, undoing his own shorts and starting on Theo’s belt, while they continue to kiss. Theo has imagined this many times, in his way. Liam kissing him, caressing him, licking his scars. Liam mapping his body in kisses, following the slope of his abs with his nose, memorizing his weak spots. Liam smiling at him, caring for him, laying on his chest. Liam mouthing at his neck, nibbling at his collarbone, caressing his thighs. Liam stroking his heated cock, sighing softly while sinking into Theo’s body, thrusting into him long and deep, leaving nothing but pleasure behind.
Instead, Theo gets to suck hurriedly at Liam’s fingers, providing slickness while the other boy spreads his legs even more. He knows that Corey and Mason are probably still watching, but he can’t make his body stop reacting to Liam’s touch, to his scent. He probably will never get to have this again. Liam Dunbar, his first and only. He feels grateful for a split second, but then his guts twist and the moldy wet feeling of the cabin floor registers on his back. Liam’s hardness is pressing against his thigh, and two of his fingers are prodding at his hole. The saliva is drying rapidly. Too rapidly. He distracts himself by kissing Liam again. His pained gasp is swallowed by Liam’s soft lips. It's okay, he keeps telling himself You've given up more. Taken worse.
Liam is intoxicated. His blue eyes rake Theo’s body, taking in every muscle, every scar, following them with his mind. He feels a bit drunk, flames lick his abdomen from the inside. His fingers feel constricted by Theo’s heat. For someone usually so cold, Theo’s insides feel as if lined with hot coals. He responds to Theo’s kisses and growls under his breath when Theo’s hands card through his hair. Liam starts nibbling the chimera’s neck, while his fingers plunge faster and faster into Theo’s body. He cannot believe he’s getting to have the chimera whimpering under him. His wolf preens and rumbles in his chest. Finally, he can claim what others’ hands have kept away. He quickly pushes the thought of Tracy and a number of other faceless bodies away. When he deems him ready enough, he looks at Theo’s face without registering much, the need to shove himself inside is overwhelming, kisses his temple and, while balancing on his knees, he brings Theo closer on his lap. One hand grips Theo’s left hip, the other his shoulder, and Liam starts entering him.
Theo feels himself being torn apart and moans. Well, it’s more like a pained mewl, and he tries to smother it by biting his own arm. He tastes blood. He smells blood from other parts as well. He accepts it gracefully, his claws popping out and raking the wooden floor. He feels shame burning in his chest, mostly at the eagerness he can’t help but feel at the sound of Liam’s hips hitting his own. He registers the feeling of the hem of Liam’s zipper against his thighs, and a pang of pain shakes his chest. Of course, Liam didn’t even get his shorts down. He swears this next sound will be the last as another pained whimper leaves his lips when Liam starts moving more forcefully. He tries to silence it with all he has.
Mason does not miss it, though. He knows that whimper; he’s heard Corey make it frequently at the start of their relationship. It’s the sound of someone unaccustomed to sex. And, just like that, the cogs start turning in his head. He hears a snapping sound and realises the bar has finally given way. He takes a deep breath and crosses the line of Mountain Ash. It fizzles softly as the barrier breaks.
Mason sighs in relief. The second he started concentrating on something else, the other puzzle pieces fell into place. And so they do. He places the ring: Hayden. Her new boyfriend had gifted it to her for their whatever-month anniversary. Then another: Theo’s reaction. Horror starts creeping up his spine. Theo is... was obviously a virgin. Then another: The way the taller figure seems to know them, far too familiar. Part of the Pack. Malia? No, she wouldn’t have been able to pull off the dialogue. Stiles. Everything fits. Except for one thing. No one in the pack knew what they were up to for that Friday night. There had to have been someone on the inside. His eyes fix on Liam’s blissed out face, and anger begins to well up in his chest. He can’t bear to watch anymore, so he focuses on whispering in Corey’s ear his findings. As an enraged Corey lets go of his hand and they both become visible again, Liam, on the floor in front of them, shouts his orgasm, and the wooden door slams open.
“What are you doing?!” screeches Stiles, while Hayden stumbles behind him. Mason feels his anger double. Liam looks up from where he’s closing back his shorts and dares to look innocent. “ENOUGH.” Yells Corey, and Hayden has the nerve to whisper “Busted...” in a singsong voice. They both let their hoods fall. Hayden looks disturbingly happy about Theo’s nudity, while Stiles makes his way to the cage to open it.
Hayden smells the air and flashes her eyes gold with a mean smirk. Theo looks confused and scrambles to at least pull his boxer briefs back on, wincing a bit at the sudden movement, before pulling up all of his defences. Mason feels his stomach churn and flip. Liam looks startled and almost misses the way Theo flinches at his touch. Mason’s heart shatters. No one deserves this.
Mason gets to his feet quickly and exits the cage, followed by Corey, with a disgusted look on his face, positively ready to punch something or someone. Liam is behind them, now completely alert, worried, and slightly confused. Theo, in boxers, with a shredded shirt hanging by his shoulders follows them quietly. Theo feels immensely cold. Stiles looks at him with a twisted smile on his lips.
“What the fuck is this?” asks Mason, almost trembling. Ignoring him, Hayden turns her attention to Liam. “So, Liam, was his hole tight like you imagined? Did it all go according to plan?” Liam opens his mouth, then closes it, blinking slowly. Hayden keeps going, mean and cold: “Virgin like, am I right? Well, maybe not just like.” Stiles looks confused for a second and opens his mouth hesitantly, but then Hayden carries on, still smirking. “Did you enjoy yourself, little puppy?” Liam looks ready to cry, his face twisting on itself with every new word.
It’s nothing compared to the empty steel of Theo’s face, after he realises how deeply he has been played. Hayden laughs and Corey has to physically restrain Mason so he won’t jump at her throat. The look of hatred and disgust she points at Theo, makes Corey almost give in and let Mason go. Theo looks at them warily, flinching away from Liam’s tentative hands.
“I swear to god, I will make you two swallow your own teeth.” Mason grits out, at which Stiles shakes his head and says “Look at who you are defending. A murderer, an outcast. Look at all he’s done!", most of his earlier bravado is gone, though. A sob expands in the air. It’s Liam’s. Mason sees red. He gets out of Corey’s grip and in three quick strides is in front of Liam. He punches him, hard, in the guts. Liam gasps for breath but does not move otherwise. Theo’s eyes soften for a split second, before hardening again. Hayden growls and yells “Mason, he’s not pack, and he never will be. He’s the enemy. And he deserved every bit of the blood he lost.”
Corey didn’t even think that he could feel so much disgust all at once. Mason hurries back towards Stiles and punches him too, square on the jaw. Mason’s knuckles are surely bruising over, but Corey can’t help to be proud of the man he loves. Stiles wipes his busted lip, eyes fixed on the floor, as Hayden starts laughing again. Corey entertains the idea to punch them too, with a little super strength added to the mix. Hayden fangs out and growls at Mason. His train of thought is interrupted by Theo’s voice.
“Since I can see this lovely evening has played out as you intended, I hope you’ve enjoyed the show. Now, if you’re finished laughing at me, I’d like to go home.” He’s moved across the room to the door left ajar. His voice betrays nothing as he grabs his own collar and tears the rest of shirt apart, his scars glowing under the flames. The familiar crack of bones and snapping of muscles accompanies his transformation into a grey wolf. He runs away, leaving behind him only the tattered rests of his shredded clothing. Corey instinctually camouflages himself and runs after him, doing his best as to not lose the wolf in the absence of the moonlight.
II - In the forest.
He’s going to kill them. All of them. Rip their throats out and bathe in their blood. For sure. However, rage and murder cannot stop the cold emptiness clawing it's way into in the pit of Theo's stomach. And for once, it’s not the clawing of hunger. The wolf runs, ignoring everything in his path, until he finds the familiar scent of Malia’s old cave. He enters, shifting back, shivering. Coldness expands on his back, squeezing his lungs, and he can feel something thick trickling down the back of his thigh. Ignoring both feelings he stumbles toward the back of the cave, where he hid a bag of clothes during his last full moon run. He picks up a shirt and it smells like Liam. He shreds it without thinking. He picks up another one and realizes this one actually is Liam’s. Theo brings it to his nose, inhaling deeply and then shreds it too, when a deep surge of rage makes his claws pop out.
He feels hot tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but forces them back where they came from. Focusing on his rage, he forces himself back into wolf form, picking up the red hoodie between his jaws. He exits the cave slowly, with his tail brushing the fallen leaves. He’s so caught up in his pain that he doesn’t pay attention to the heartbeat coming from the trees behind him.
Corey can feel Theo’s pain. Even though he’s part of Scott’s pack now, he still regards Theo as the one that brought him back to life, there still are some kind of pack bonds between them. He grips his chest and follows the wolf, rage not his seething in the back of his mind. He knows where it’s coming from. Mason, his mate, is probably giving Liam a piece of his mind. Corey’s glad Mason’s not mad at him, the guy gets scary when he’s that angry. The uneven ground and the little twigs hurt the soles of his bare feet, but he ignores them, in favour of following Theo deeper into the forest.
The wolf brings them to a clearing near the riverbank. Corey sees Theo drop the hoodie on two large stones and shift back to his human form, before getting in the water. Corey lets his gaze wander, giving him privacy, but keeps following his movements with the corner of his eyes. He hasn’t come this far to lose Theo in the dark. His attention is captured by the many scars crossing Theo’s back and torso. His mind goes back to the Dread Doctors and the chimeras’ supernatural enhanced healing abilities. His stomach churns in horror at the thought of what could have left those, when being almost burned to a crisp by Parrish hasn’t left one mark on his own skin.
Theo shivers, letting the cold water embrace his tired limbs. He focuses on each healing part. On his arm the blood crusted around long-gone teeth marks. Liam’s hands had bruised his hips, leaving imprints behind. He slows his healing purposefully, remembering the sensation of the grip, and almost revels in it. Then he feels sick to his stomach and stabs his thigh with his claws to jumpstart the healing process again. Retracting his claws, he scrubs his skin with his palms uselessly, finally letting the tears fall. Even with the soothing coldness enveloping him, he feels the shame burning him from the inside out, his hole feels raw and used. He feels damaged.
Stiles’ words reverberate in Theo’s head. Murderer, outcast, deserving. He doesn’t find them faulty or flawed. Deep down, under all the rage and the pain, the emptiness inside him agrees. He claws at his heart, coiling on himself. He feels colder by the minute. Exiting the water, he can’t help shivering, but the soft April night is forgiving on his dripping body. Theo sits under the large tree behind the two stones where he had abandoned the red jacket. He drags his hoodie on his shoulders and grips his legs tightly against his chest. He crosses his ankles and drops his forehead on his knees. The tears fall again; he can’t bring himself to care enough about who might hear him. For the first time in hours, his body feels fine, but all he can feel is emptiness.
Corey’s guts wrench at the sight, and he absentmindedly reaches for his phone in the back pocket. He realizes it’s there, only shut off. Rage surges again in his gut. Seriously Stiles? He’s definitely going to punch him, and probably himself too. How could he not notice his own damn phone in his goddamn back pocket. He lets out a low rumble and waits for it to power up. It’s two in the morning, he notices. There’s decent battery, so he gets to texting Mason and Scott. They need to do something. They need to fix this. He types for what seems like an hour, but in reality he fits it all in a ten minute window. He waits. Scott’s answer arrives fifteen minutes later.
Scott 2.37 AM: Where r u now?
Scott seems too calm, and Corey suspects it’s because someone else already called him. Probably Mason. When he’s that mad, he resembles the Bête again. Corey shudders at the memory.
Corey 2.39 AM: I followed Theo in the forest. I’m sending you the location.
Corey 2.40 AM: Last I saw them, Mason was with Liam and Stiles. Almost 2 hours ago.
Corey 2.40 AM: Please, hurry. He needs help, Scott.
Scott 2.41 AM: I know, on my way
Corey 2.42 AM: Bring some clothes his size.
Corey 2.43 AM: Underwear too.
Scott 2.45 AM: JFC
Corey 2.45 AM: He needs an alpha, Scott.
Scott 2.54 AM: already out the door
Corey quietly listens to Theo’s crying while he waits for Scott. He desperately wants to help his friend, but he’s afraid to make things worse. So, wondering when Theo shifted from begrudged leader to reluctant ally to friend, he stays behind the trees and waits. In the next twenty minutes Theo’s sobs become quieter, even though Corey can still hear his erratic heartbeat. He hears someone approaching and he smells the familiar scent of his alpha. Theo stills, but doesn’t run. Corey counts that as a win, while he reveals himself to Scott.
“Where is he?” Scott asks calmly. “Under the tree. He’s hurting, I didn’t know what to do.” Corey sounds small and pathetic even to himself. Moving closer to the alpha he bares his neck out of habit. Scott touches his shoulder, squeezing a little. He has a gym bag strapped over his back. “It’s going to be alright, Corey.” A bit of the alpha voice seeps into Scott’s words, calming him.
Corey can see in his eyes that Scott is furious, but they only flash red briefly, as he makes his way to Theo’s figure. When Theo feels Scott approaching slowly, he unconsciously tightens his stance, making himself smaller. Scott’s eyes flash red again and a low growl escapes his throat. Corey’s chest tightens at the sight, but he gets distracted by his phone dinging in his pocket. It’s Mason. He also has messages and lost calls from both Tracy and Josh. They sound distressed, so he sends a few words of reassurance, before replying to his boyfriend.
Mason 3.24 AM: Corey, where did you go? I just got my phone to power on. I’m at Liam’s. Are you alright?
Corey 3.24 AM: I followed Theo. Scott’s here. I’m fine, you?
Mason 3.26 AM: I’m fine. Liam has a broken nose. Lydia and Malia are with us.
Corey 3.27 AM: Theo is a mess.
Corey grimaces and wonders who actually broke Liam’s nose. He’s willing to bet it was Lydia. His phone buzzes a warning. It’s going to shut off in under a minute. Corey quickly types out a last message and hits send. The phone shuts down ten seconds after. He prays the text was delivered before sliding the phone in his pocket. Corey sighs. He hates the new moon.
Corey 3.28 AM: Phone dying. Call Tracy and Josh. I love you.
Meanwhile, Theo feels Scott walk towards him. He tightens the grip on his limbs. The alpha smells angry and powerful, while the smell of salty tears and shame reek from Theo’s body. It’s too late to conceal his chemo-signals and deep down he doesn’t really care. Scott’s probably mad that he still smells like Liam. Scott hates him, he surely came to banish him back to hell, or worse. What’s some more humiliation, after tonight? Should have killed himself when he had the chance. The growl coming from the tall man doesn’t help with his thoughts. Theo whines, burying his head further into his knees. He stiffens when he feels Scott’s warm hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t risk pulling away.
He feels the alpha’s hand move down his arm and start leeching off his pain. Theo whines again, surprised, and looks up to the man on his knees before him. There’s no pity in the red eyes staring back at him and he feels the dam give in his chest, as his eyes flash gold and he bares his neck to the alpha. Scott’s wolf rumbles deep in his chest, pleased with him, with his beta. Scott’s hand slides to Theo’s neck and he whimpers in submission. An incoherent string of thoughts twirls in Theo’s mind. They aren’t his. Mine and beta and pack and protect and ours and accepted. A deep, possessive howl rises and echoes through the forest. Theo feels like a grenade has gone off on his brain as new bonds bloom and strengthen in the back of his mind. He can feel the pack, his pack. He feels mourning, anger, trepidation and anxiety. He doesn’t know how much of that is his own and how much is coming from the newly formed ropes in his mind. Theo realizes he’s crying again when Scott’s fingers start wiping the tears from his face.
Alpha, pack, hurt, alphaalphaalphapackpackpack. Theo’s hands move on autopilot, clinging to Scott’s biceps. Scott’s eyes are red. He still hasn’t talked, and Theo is grateful for his silence. He doesn’t think he could stand hollow reassurance, when he can already feel the deep blinding rage that the alpha is obviously trying to control. His hand travels from Scott’s bicep to his stomach, and presses where he had once trusted into, gentle. Theo’s eyes bear a mute question and Scott’s hand covering Theo’s own and nodding is an answer enough. He can sense that Scott knows he’s changed, knows how the guilt eats away at Theo’s guts during his night terrors. He can feel it clear as day, and Theo now knows it. The feeling of having all these connections webbed inside his brain is weird and new. It feels overwhelming, but at the moment, focusing on those is better than to keep nursing the shame and the pain coiled in the pit of his stomach.
Scott finds his eyes wandering over the scars littering Theo’s body and he suppresses a full body shudder. His newest beta is hurt and the wolf is clawing at his chest from the inside, frenzying to scent and mark and find the culprits. He doesn’t want to think about their names, past and present. Instead he reaches for the bag strapped over his back and sets it on the ground. Theo looks at him warily, but he suspects it’s just because of the newly formed pack bonds. He must be overwhelmed. He silently hands Theo some clothes. Then he stands up and tries to give Theo at least a little privacy.
The clothes feel warm in Theo’s hands, and when Scott gets to his feet and takes a couple steps to their left, he realises just how cold he really feels. He slips the clothes on, feeling secure in the scent of his alpha. It doesn’t mask Liam’s scent, but he can only hope. It’s just sweatpants and a short-sleeved tee, but right now they feel like a luxury. Theo knows he’s probably under shock, but he’s too preoccupied wondering how the soft fabric feels against his bare legs to care. There’s tomorrow to care and torment.
He pulls the red hoodie on and follows Scott towards a yet again invisible Corey. Theo’s neither stupid nor deaf, he has known since his venture underwater, and he’s actually kind of grateful for the other chimera’s presence. So, he looks directly at his heartbeat and touches his shoulder, or at least where he thinks Corey shoulder is. He ends up brushing his ear, but it’s enough to get Corey visible again. Theo can see anger and anxiety in the soft smile the werechameleon directs at him and he feels something tug in the back of his head.
The feeling is new and Theo makes a startled face. “Is it always this... intense?” His voice is hoarse. Scott laughs a little. “No, after a while you get used to it. It’s just the pack. Everyone feels it.” He shrugs and shakes his head, smiling. “You should have seen Stiles’ face when the pack first grew.” Theo feels his heart drop to his knees, but quickly pulls up his stony mask. “Shit... Theo, I’m sorry.” Scott begins, but Theo knows that this is not his fault. Stiles, Liam, Hayden... They’re part of the pack, have been way longer than he has. He realises that everyone probably felt it too, when he joined. Theo doesn’t know what to do with that information, so he does nothing.
Scott is mentally kicking himself, when his watch dings, letting them know that it’s four in the morning. He eyes Corey and tentatively starts talking again, “I should take you back home.” Theo looks at his bare feet. “Where’s my truck?” “We don’t know, but I can drive you. We’ll get a hold of it in the morning.” Theo exhales and slowly says, “No, I meant that I live in the truck.” His toes suddenly look extremely interesting. Scott growls. “How long?” The alpha doesn’t let him answer. “Never mind. Let’s go.” Theo’s face snaps up. “Where to? You don’t know where it is.” Another growl. “Doesn’t matter. You’re coming home with me.” “But...” Scott shushes him, his eyes flashing red. “No buts. I should have known.” The alpha’s tone doesn’t admit any reply. Theo and Corey follow him quietly.
The drive to the McCall House is quiet as well. In the backseat, Corey uses Scott’s phone to alert the others; he sends the same short texts to everyone except Melissa. To her, he copies the conversation he had had with Scott earlier. Her reply is a long and colourful string of curses. Some of them Corey hasn’t ever heard before; he’s impressed and slightly scared. This seems to be a recurring theme in his feelings for the women of the McCall pack. When they arrive, Melissa is waiting for them with a pot of fresh coffee ready. She pretends not to notice how Theo slips silently behind Scott, shying away from any form of contact. They all do, Theo included.
Half an hour and a warm cup of coffee later, Theo’s sitting on the bed in Scott’s spare room. He looks at the door closing after Melissa and smiles to himself, but his eyes are hollow, reflecting the soft light of dawn. He stretches to close the blinders but stops at the last second. Melissa is now on the front porch, she hugs Scott and Corey. Looking at them driving away, he wonders where his truck is. Theo finds himself longing for a cigarette. Sighing, he lies down and observes the small rays of sunlight slowly make their way into the room, dancing on the opposite wall. He hugs himself tighter. He doesn’t feel that alone anymore; he’s still cold, though.
III - At Liam’s.
Scott is driving Corey back to Liam’s house. He’s grateful the Geyers are on a work trip, because he doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know how he can still look Liam in the eye. But he’s the damn alpha, and he will fix this. They’ve been through literal wars, most of them have beaten death at her own game, for crying out loud. He sighs. He feels Corey’s gaze on his neck. They see Theo’s truck parked behind Liam’s Bronco, unscathed.
Mason is waiting for them on the doorstep, a hard look on his face. Corey, still barefoot, hisses at the contact of his soles with the sharp gravel on the driveway. He walks until he feels the arms of his boyfriend wrap around his neck and lets out a deep sigh. Scott is standing behind him; Corey knows the alpha is smiling softly at them. Scott can’t seem to restrain himself wherever there’s affection around him, the giant teddy bear. Corey feels Mason sag against him, leaning on his left shoulder. He feels Scott’s hand on the other. Mason steps back and points his shoes at him, complete with a (clean) pair of socks. Corey doesn’t ask.
They don’t talk while he puts them on. None of them knows what to say or how to say it. It all feels so surreal. Not even 48 hours before they were in that same house, during pack night, puppy piling on the couch. Corey can’t help but think that Theo probably spent his evening alone, since Tracy and Josh were with them. He pushes away the thought; right now, they have bigger fishes to fry. Mason is the first to break the silence.
“Tracy and Josh are inside. They showed up the minute after I called them. They can feel something is wrong. I just told them that Theo’s hurt, but they are getting restless.” He pauses briefly. “We all are. I can’t believe this is happening.” He starts pacing. “I kind of want to break Liam’s nose again.” He looks in the far distance, clearly unaware that he just spoke out loud.
Mason’s rambling now: the dam is breaking down and the words are rushing out. “Scott, man. This is such a mess. I don’t know what to do. We all felt it when you let Theo into the pack. Stiles almost had a fit. Liam cried.” He pauses and gives them a look. “That’s when I punched him again, by the way. Josh and Malia went into full beast mode. Victim count: two shredded pillows and a fried lamp.” He throws his hands in the air and resumes his pacing. “Lydia yelled at Stiles. Twice. With us in the room. Tracy almost had a panic attack over all the sudden bonds, and I think I’m going a little crazy.” He stops, breathing heavily, eyes wide as saucers.
Scott doesn’t know where to begin. He focuses on the pack, inspecting every bond. Peter, Derek, Isaac, Chris, his mother, Noah, Parrish. They are all fine. Melissa has probably alerted them, keeping them from rushing over. The others are alert, some distressed. He can feel rage, grief, pity, and anxiety come from inside the house and through the bonds. Theo’s bond is still raw and fragile. Then he focuses on his senses, he can smell the tears, and almost taste some of the strongest emotions. He can hear a quiet voice, the sounds of fingers tapping on a table. He hears laboured breath and a few sniffles. Then “Blood.” Scott says, rushing through the door, making the umbrella stand fall, cursing under his breath.
The scene in front of him makes him stop abruptly. At least, nobody is gutting anybody. Hayden is curled up on a chair, scrolling idly on her phone. On the floor, Tracy and Josh are leaning against each other, backs propped up against the wall. Stiles, with a broken lip and a purplish jaw, is perched on an armchair and smiling tauntingly at Liam who, in turn, is staring at him with yellow eyes and a mouthful of teeth, claws digging into his palms. Well, that explains the blood. Malia looks disgusted and is actively holding Liam back. Lydia has her face buried in her hands. They all look up at him. Stiles’ face swells up with anger. Scott knows this boy better than he knows himself; he can tell when he’s going to yell at him.
Scott roars, letting all his anger go free into the sound. His alpha nature is fully on display: eyes flashing crimson and way too many teeth, impossibly tall and broad and powerful. Pain and betrayal flares up inside all their heads. Whatever Stiles was going to say dies in his throat and turns into a whimper in front of the massive wave of disappointment that rushes over him. Stiles lowers his head, but then “Hey, Scott. How are you this fine morning?” says Hayden.
Everyone falls in a stunned silence and a lot of things happen all at once. Liam growls and tears through a pillow, he can’t breathe well, his anger is taking him under. Stiles starts laughing: a horrible, fake clattering sound. Scott roars again, and this causes Hayden to laugh, her mean smirk growing larger. Malia can barely pin Liam to the couch to restrain him, while Mason hurries behind the couch and tries to calm him down, repeating softly his mantra together. Scott is going to say something, anything, but Stiles is quicker.
“How could you? He’s a murderer. He’s evil! He killed you. He can’t be part of this pack!” Scott is dumbfounded “He’s changed. People change, Stiles. People try to get better. And sometimes forgiveness is all that’s needed. Deep down, Theo is still the boy we knew.” Another mirthless laugh follows his words. “I knew that boy, and Theo’s not him. He’s a fake. A cheap imitation.” He still sounds angry, but Scott can tell that now there’s a speck of doubt in his words. “You’re too damn trusting, Scott.”
Hayden’s voice rises from their left. She leaves her seat at the table, and stalks towards the middle of the room. “He’s evil. He kidnapped us and gave us to the Dread Doctors. He deserved everything that’s happened to him and worse.” From his spot on the floor, Josh raises his voice. “He brought us back to life.” Hayden sounds crazed, voice acute and manic, almost screaming “If he’d left us alone, we wouldn’t have died in the first place!”
“It’s not his fault we needed skin grafts, or that you needed a transplant, or that Mason absorbed his twin in the womb!” Tracy snaps back. “He may not be a saint, but he’s not evil!” Hayden looks at her, her eyes glowing dangerously yellow. “As expected, from his lizard bitch. Why don’t you grovel some more, this time when he’s actually here?” Literal sparks fly in the air, as Josh’s eyes glow violet and a wall light explodes. He springs to his feet, but Corey gets in the way. Tracy follows, and soon all three of them stand behind Scott.
The faint sound of ripping and a curse tell the room that yet another pillow has been murdered. Malia grunts as she loses her footing and falls back on the couch, Liam getting past her effortlessly, as a hot rush of rage floods the pack bonds. Mason flails aimlessly, his fingers getting caught in the waistband of Liam’s Jeans. He finds himself slumped over the back of the couch, and has to forcefully let go at a sharp pain in his hand.
Hayden’s standing in the middle of the room, when Liam approaches her. “Puppy, tell me. Did you enjoy popping his cherry?” startled gasps follow her question, some turning into growls. “Is your silly obsession over? You got what you wanted, after all.” Her voice sounds sweet, but the words are so twisted that Liam’s stomach churns. “I didn’t know.” She laughs again, and it’s honestly annoying, at this point. “You didn’t need to. After all, it’s all lust. And he deserved it anyway.” Both Liam and Stiles flinch.
“What were your words? He's so handsome. I want to devour him. Friday I’m going to ask him out.” She continues in a grotesque imitation of his voice, “but we couldn’t have that, could we? Drunk you was so eager to spill all about your disgusting double date. All that was left was to get someone else on board.” She looks directly at Stiles. “Thanks for the ride, by the way. Great dialogue.” Liam growls deep in his chest, but he’s cut off again as she keeps talking, almost feral. “How do you feel Liam? I bet his virgin ass was nice and tight. How do you feel knowing that there will never be a chance for your silly crush now?”
Everyone is too stunned to do anything. Mason is nursing his probably dislocated fingers with Lydia’s help, and they stop to look at a horrified Stiles curling tighter on himself. Malia has a slight green hue to her face, and her claws sunk into the couch cushion, electric blue eyes fixated on the far end of the room. Scott’s fangs descend, but he still doesn’t move. Tracy and Josh are bewildered, in full shift. Both look ready to fight, hissing and growling. Corey has that broken expression again, and grips their shoulders tighter, accurately avoiding Tracy’s dripping tail. He tries to rein them back in, pushing away further the overwhelming need to disappear.
Hayden’s laughter increases in volume, it’s grating and judgmental as she keeps going. “Were you hoping in a magical moment? That he’d love you back if you dazzled him hard enough with your pathetic dick?” Liam’s eyes fill with tears, but he bites them back, the anger bubbling over in his chest. He pounces on her, forcing them to tumble on the floor. She smiles under him, testing his grip on her collarbone. “When we were together, you were a nice pastime. You’re so easy to play.”
“I loved you!” He laments and Hayden laughs in his face. Liam grips her throat tightly, snarling. He’s ready to damage, to wreck, to punish. Any hope of control drowned out by a rumbling surge of rage. She struggles to breathe, claws raking down Liam’s back and shoulder, piercing his left bicep. He hisses and eases a little, just to grip even harder. Hayden’s claws look ready to tear into Liam’s torso, when Scott roars, “STOP!” and everyone stills; the alpha’s command heavy on their limbs. She smiles, venomous, and attacks anyway. “That would work, if only you were my alpha.” Her eyes flicker evilly, as deep crimson gashes open on Liam’s chest.
He jumps back and Hayden takes the opportunity to put some distance between them, growing closer to the wall. “Scotty, are you really going to let your minion do your dirty laundry? Are you only good at picking up homicidal strays off the street?” Her voice is sickly sweet, but croaks and breaks as she regains breath. “What kind of alpha are you? You won’t even kill your enemies.” She laughs, sharp and unforgiving. “Instead, you let them into your pack. How pathetic.” With another growl Liam’s on top of her again, almost fully shifted, the need to protect his alpha blinding his own rage.
“You may not recognize me as your alpha, but I made you, and that’s a bond nothing can sever.” Scott’s voice is entirely too calm for the power embedded words he’s speaking. He slowly walks toward the struggling couple. He grabs Liam by the neck and hauls him back, fangs glistening and eyes a deep red when the boy snarls. “Stay. Put.” Scott grinds out, and Liam falls to his knees, whining like a wounded puppy. He turns towards Hayden, who’s slowly backing out along the wall. She’s aimed towards the arched door, obviously ready to run, but finds the three Chimeras in her way.
Taking a step back, she hisses at Tracy’s tail and Josh’s snarl. Hayden desperately tries to make a run for it, but before her foot can connect to the ground, Scott lunges towards her. He pins her to the wall with a clawed hand around her throat. Boring holes into her skull with burning crimson eyes, he speaks, voice unnaturally deep, the wolf emerging with full force and reshaping his features. “You are not welcome here. You will move from my territory. I’m banning you from this pack. Anywhere you will go, these events will follow you.” With his clawed left index, he carves an inverted spiral down her right shoulder. “Omega.”
With a defeated whimper and eyes flashing lilac, Hayden slides down the wall. Everyone in the room can feel their one-sided bond dissipating. Long seconds pass, Hayden gets up and starts running, storming by three very surprised chimeras, looking on the verge of throwing up. She’s not their problem anymore.
Scott howls, soon joined by Malia. Stiles is making himself smaller on the stuffed armchair, knees drawn tight to his chest, he’s scared he might be the next, mildew-scented fear enveloping him. The events of the night play again and again in his hyperactive mind. The genuine hurt in Theo’s eyes, the dismayed look on Liam’s face, Mason’s outraged fist connecting with his face. “What have I done?” he whispers to himself, closing his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
Liam’s a wreck. He stinks of guilt, shame, pain and fear, still pinned to the ground where Scott’s command holds him in place. He doesn’t even feel angry anymore. He can’t. His chest is still wet with blood as his skin knits itself back together, he can hear all the other occupants of the room moving around him. He recognises Mason’s pained grunt and the familiar snap of bones when someone sets his dislocated fingers. He hears his name being whispered. Scott’s hand is soon on his head, his fingers in Liam’s hair. His cheeks are wet. Soon, everything goes dark.
The sun is up, the pack is tired and no one knows what to do. The aftermath of the early morning is still setting in, Scott knocked Liam out and left Mason and Corey to care for him. Malia is driving Josh and Tracy home, while Lydia won’t let Stiles out of her sight.
Scott is debating in his head how to bring Theo’s truck back home without having to walk back or drive someone back. Maybe he’ll just wait for Malia. He sighs and goes for the Truck. Theo’s smell is overwhelming. He peeks inside the driver’s side and Theo’s boots, phone and leather jacket are on the bench, neatly folded directly beside the driver's seat. The keys are dangling behind the steering wheel. As if nothing happened.
Scott takes a deep breath and rests his forehead against the window.
It’s going to be a long day.
IV - The aftermath.
Theo is staring at the ceiling. He can feel Melissa behind the door. He knows he cried out in his sleep, but he can’t bring himself to reply to her gentle knocking. This time he didn’t even make it out of the morgue drawer, Tara sliding on top of him from the darkness, pinning him down with an icy gaze. Her bony hands with long black nails, frayed and rotten, sunk in his torso, snapping bones like butter, mimicking her own hollow chest. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe: lost in his tachycardic babbling.
Take it, it’s yours, I deserve it. Take it. Take it. Take it. Take it. Takeittakeittakeittakeit. PLEASE.
Theo watched the blackened heart beat in her palm before letting himself sink back, smiling softly, ready to have it start all over again. He was awakened by a thud, followed by quick steps up the stairs. His blood had curdled for a second, panic washing over him all over again.
Can this get any worse?
His sigh is defeated, as he gets up and opens the door, appreciating how Melissa hasn’t tried to force it even though it is unlocked, and he doesn’t even have the key. He’s barely opened the door, uncertain and afraid of confronting the woman when they both feel something break. His eyes flash yellow without his consent and his claws drop, scoring the wooden jamb. The primal voice in the back of his mind goes to his alpha and he fights the need to howl. Reining back his wolf he collapses against the red door; the feeling of the pack bond dissolving leaves him nauseous. Melissa doesn’t look much better.
Swallowing down the bile, Melissa takes in the pale boy gripping the door on wobbly legs. He doesn’t look much like an assassin right now. Her son’s clothes hang around his frame, at least two sizes bigger than him. Tear tracks appear on his neck, where he forgot to wipe them. She remembers a little kid with asthma and thick glasses, but her brain is struggling to match the memory to the person in front of her. “I made breakfast; you need to eat.” Her tone is matter of fact as she gestures stiffly towards the stairs.
Theo looks at her and remembers a much softer woman. Still, ten odd years, a divorce and a war haven’t managed to kill the beauty in her dark eyes. The smell of bacon and eggs is delicious, and his stomach grumbles. He silently follows her, wondering if she plans to poison him. Would be a smart move, too. He shakes his head, shrugging internally; he’s ready to take that chance.
“What was that?” He’s on the edge of the staircase, Melissa is a few steps in front of him. She turns slightly, eyes softening, maternal. “Something long overdue. I’m sure Scott’s coming back soon; let’s eat for now.” She enters the kitchen.
Theo nods and takes a seat, mumbling a thank you when she sets a plate in front of him. They eat together, the atmosphere is oddly domestic. Melissa notices how Theo still rotates his plate instead of moving the food towards him. Suddenly the awkward eight year old boy in her memories and the man in front of her aren’t that difficult to overlap. She finds herself hiding a small smile behind her mug, mind lost in a far back memory, laughing along with three children.
Theo is lost in his own mind, intent on examining the newly formed web. The bonds still feel somewhat raw. He tries poking one and almost jumps when it pokes back. Weird. He can feel the woods, the rush of the wind under strong legs, the need to be free. Derek. He refrains from touching anything (anyone?) else. He resumes his exploration, noticing how some feel different, fainter. He wonders why. His curiosity is too strong, and he ends up approaching one of those. His senses are flooded by coffee and a long-lost smell of pancakes and gummy bears.
Melissa’s head shots up, while she’s used to the bonds being there, it’s rare that someone who isn’t Scott reaches to her. She feels curiosity, confusion and a deep searing emptiness that makes her clutch the mug tighter. She catches Theo’s eyes and for a second the air is tight around them, heavy with things left unsaid and old assumptions. The boy retracts his contact, unconsciously matching the movement with his whole body.
She grabs his hand and smiles brightly: “Do you remember that too?”
“Scott’s seventh birthday. We wanted to add gummy bears to the pancake batter...”
“...but we ended up separating them by colour after Stiles started crying about the green ones.” She finishes laughing. “Scott still fishes them out for him, sometimes.”
It’s jarring, how normal this feels. How much familiarity can be contained in decade old gestures. Theo finds himself letting go of all his walls. “Those are still my favourites.” His voice is small, and he looks so much younger than Melissa can stand to admit.
They swore to protect those boys and somewhere along the line, it all went to hell. Quite literally, too. She’s still smiling, three children dancing in her kitchen behind her eyelids, when she looks at Theo and with shining eyes, “What happened, Theo? Where did it all go wrong?”
Theo looks lost for a moment, the t-shirt falling over his shoulder and a painful memory awakens in both their minds. “My father.” Theo says, and Melissa finally pieces it all back together. It feels like being electrocuted. Memories and little conversations, stolen moments, Theo’s general dislike of Raphael, his little hands over Scott’s chest whenever the agent would step into the room smelling like someone else’s bourbon.
The night Scott died and the cry for power. Theo’s lost expression in front of the Geyer family. His terrified look when he thought no one was watching him at the hospital. Why he chose chimeras from broken families for his pack. She feels like crying, because even now that she understands, it doesn’t make it right. However her brain supplies her with new information, wiring in all the times Theo got in the way of a bullet for one of the boys; she focuses on the way he hides his involvement in the rebuilding of the pediatric ward and on the way he looks over his shoulders when he takes pain from one of the little patients. There’s a new thing she realizes, and it is what prompts her to talk to a stunned Theo.
“What you did was not okay. It never will be. But you’ve proven, despite all of your attempts at hiding it, that you care. Time moves on, and if you don’t, you get trampled. It’s time for us to move on and start anew. Are you willing to?”
Theo looks on the verge of a panic attack, his chest feels incredibly heavy, his eyes are stinging and all he wants to do is cry. He hates himself a bit, he is supposed to be the big scary monster, not this crying wreck. His nodding seems to be enough for Melissa, given that she simply stands and pours him a cup of coffee, patting him gently on the hinge between his shoulder and neck.
That’s apparently the wrong move, because his claws pop out and he hisses at the contact. His wolf is in distress, and the coyote feels caged. Melissa cringes a bit but expertly raises a non-threatening hand, and gently shushes him. Moving the hand to the top of his head, she pets him like she would a cornered animal, and Theo crumbles. Like a castle of cards, he is falling at the gentlest touch.
Neither of them notices the sound of an engine pulling up the driveway. And that’s how Scott finds his mother gently petting a distraught Theo at the kitchen table. He’s witnessed worse, Scott thinks, and smiles a bit. His pack is safe, his newest beta is healing. He joins them at the table, reaching for the coffee pot.
V - What now?
It’s been five days since Theo moved in with the McCalls. He spent them mostly in the dark, awake, rolling cigarettes he ends up not smoking, exploring and working around the newly formed bonds. He is honestly annoyed at how exposed he feels, but can’t help feeling grateful for the occasional poke from Tracy and Corey. He is learning to distinguish between bonds, how not to let others’ feelings take hold of him. He is trying his best to block out and freeze off the warmest of them all.
Theo masters his mask by dawn on the sixth day. He heads towards the kitchen, longing for another cup of coffee before overthinking the day away. He knows that he should feel something, but since his breakthrough with Melissa, he doesn’t seem to be able to. He blocks out the persistent image of Liam, letting his hand snake down to phantom bruises on his hip. Even though he hates how it happened he can’t bring himself to hate that it happened. So, he resorts to hate himself a bit more intensely.
The smell of disinfectant stops him in his tracks midway down the steps, and he turns his head towards the front door. Melissa just came back from the night shift. He waves and follows her into the kitchen. They both wait patiently for the water to start boiling, ignoring each other’s dark circled eyes and exhausted stances. She knows better than to pry, but Theo can read the prayer in her eyes loud and clear. Abandoning his cup in the dishwasher he heads for the back door, wincing at the sudden brightness. He walks out in the yard, mindful of Melissa’s curtains, and lights his cigarette.
A sudden movement catches Theo’s eye. A crow is nesting on a branch, right outside his window. He never noticed because of his serrated blinders. He lets himself feel the smoke burn through his lungs before slowly exhaling it to the sky. His eyes are unfocused on the running clouds. Many hours later, he sits on the bed, freshly showered and feeling unusually light. As he prepares himself to sleep, the sharp scythe of the moon pours from the open blinders, casting long shadows as the crow caws one last time for the day.
---------------
Liam feels like a predator. He knows he’s dangerous, that he could kill without any effort. Yet, he’s never really felt like he should be locked up, not even when his anger boils him from the inside and threatens to burn everything he holds dear. He can’t think, he can’t feel, he can’t stop feeling. He can’t forget the way Theo looks like when he was moving inside him, the soft blush across his scars, the smell of his blood mixed with their arousal. He’s haunted by the look of betrayal in Theo’s eyes, how his eyes looked disturbingly beautiful even when aimed at him with hollowness and so much coldness. He hates the fact that Theo looks stunningly gorgeous when he is in pain, and he despises himself because desperately hating the circumstances is not enough to make him want to forget.
Liam is ashamed. He spends the next four days pacing around his room, pulling at his skin. He does his best not to caress Theo’s presence in the pack web, battling his urge to jump out of his window and run to him. To do what, he doesn’t know. Beg, cry, get his throat ripped out. It all sounds better than staying in his room, alone, to confront his own conscience. He probably would have already tried if it hadn’t been for the little guarding squad Scott arranged in his living room. Liam knows he wouldn’t make it out of the driveway before Malia would already be dragging him back by an ankle.
The fifth day brings Mason to his room. Liam begs his best friend for forgiveness, swears on all the planets he knows that he did not know. He forgets Saturn. He sobs and swears until they can talk it out.
The following morning Liam feels ready. For what he does not know, but he makes his way to the kitchen anyway. There, he finds Tracy and Lydia, deeply engrossed in frying up French toast. The way Tracy swirls around and points her tail at him makes him wish he’d just waited for a plate like usual. Grimacing at the venom dripping on this mother’s marble countertop, he sits on one of the tall stools. Malia silently slides him an empty plate and goes back to fiddling with her nails. Liam smells nail polish and his mother’s body wash on all three of them.
He thinks of what to say, staring at the teal ceramic. Has it always been teal? He opens his mouth and the words do not come. He closes it. He tries again and fails again. He sighs and chooses to do what he does best: he runs his mouth and hopes for the best.
“I fucked up.”
“No shit, Sherlock.” Malia is silenced by a quiet hiss and a levelling look from Lydia, and resumes looking at her manicure.
Liam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I fucked up, and I hurt the pack. But above all I hurt Theo, and that is something I never wanted to do. I know that it is difficult to believe me, but I really do care for Theo.”
Lydia turns off the stove and turns, setting down the plate on the marble island. “Liam, it is not our job to forgive you. It's Sunday now and Spring break ends tomorrow, all that we can do now is give Theo time.” Liam nods, swearing to himself to give Theo all the space he needs.
Liam makes it to Tuesday.
---------------
Everybody talks about time as if it holds some sort of supernatural healing power. Theo snorts at the thought. He’s sitting in his truck, on his way to the hospital. He prays that the construction crew chief will take him back, even with the unexplained days of absence. But, really, when has it ever been easy for him?
Apparently, some god out there does not completely despise him, because his arrival is met with a broad smile and a vigorous squeeze on his arm. The chief praises him on being so eager to be back with the injury he sustained and guides him to the area where the rest of the crew is having lunch. Theo is quick to catch up with what Melissa obviously set up and plays his role with an Oscar-worthy smile, caught in a whirlwind of approving “hey kid!” and rough hands over reflective jackets.
The chief instructs him on the week’s shifts and tells him he can start the following morning. With what happened to his shoulder, Theo hears him say, he should take it easy on carrying weights. Theo nods and takes the papers handed to him and a new hard hat. He laughs with the other men, and it only feels partly forced.
When he gets back to the house he is still elated, going straight to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee. His eyes skim the kitchen and he tries to decide if he should make himself a sandwich, when a paper slip with his name on it catches his attention. He quickly starts to flip through the documents and discovers it’s a medical file of his brand-new shoulder injury. He feels something inside start to swell up and he promptly scalds his tongue on the hot coffee to sedate the strange feeling.
He starts heading upstairs, eyes going back to the fridge. With his hands tightening around the cup, he declines his sandwich idea, already feeling like he’s bothered Melissa enough. He is not hungry anyway. Accurately avoiding the mirror in the hallway, he goes back to the spare room and starts reading the file thoroughly.
The following morning, he’s fast into the shower and headed back to the construction site. He is on plastering duty in the paediatric ward. Reality still burns behind his eyelids, but he plans to lose himself behind the repetitive tasks; it’s just a normal Tuesday. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.
The morning is vaguely hot, with a breeze full of promises of fiery summer days. Theo gets to work. The hours pass with few words and a lot of sweat. The hospital wanted to rebuild and expand, and the humans were quick to forget about all the things that go bump in the night. Impressive.
A delicate touch shakes Theo to his core, and he drops his trowel back in the bucket. A worker near him looks concerned, but he brushes it off as a cramp to his still tender shoulder. Images of that night flood his senses, along with the feeling of clean grass and the smell of sunlight.
He knows it’s Liam; he tried his best to ignore his presence in the pack web. He never knew that sunlight could have a smell before meeting the kid. He picks up the trowel and slaps on a fake fatigued face to mask the sad grin that made its way on his features. Still, going against his better judgement, he carefully touches back.
---------------
It’s Tuesday morning and Liam is late. Not that being late is something that Liam is unaccustomed to, but he’s eighteen and he should probably invest in a good alarm clock. Or three. He curses loudly as he runs through the fields and almost trips over his own shoelaces.
“Whoever decided that velcro straps are just for kids?” Cursing again, he finally makes it through the hallways and into the history classroom. The teacher gives him a knowingly suffering look and gestures him to his seat, effectively ignoring his panting and apologetic smile.
Both he and Mason have an empty third period that they spend in the library, cramming for whatever assignment is eating away at their will to live (Liam) or for the August SATs (Mason). Anyway, it’s hard for both of them. Liam chooses to ignore what feels like his mother’s pointed stare on the back of his head.
Liam sighs and goes back to the biology book, reading again the first two sentences of the paragraph he’s supposed to use as a reference. No words register. His eyes lose focus, and he finds himself thinking of stormy grey eyes and unfairly sharp claws dragging on his back. Before he knows, he’s caressing the bond with his mind.
One minute passes, and Liam is already panicking, until there’s a tentative corresponding touch. The pencil snaps in his hand, as he feels tired and lost, the smell of plaster and a burning desire to belong. He curses under his breath and tries to regain his composure, willing his cock to swell down. He chuckles nervously and lifts the broken pencil at Mason’s inquisitive look.
---------------
Two weeks passed in a whirlwind of plastering and cabling. Melissa forces Theo to stay in the spare room, with a pointed look and the threat of setting Scott after his sorry ass. Theo laughs and stops himself at the last second from hugging her.
Life goes on. As do the secret touches between Theo and Liam. In the morning, in between Liam’s classes, and at any moment during the day. Theo would be working, eating, even showering, and a sudden caress in the back of his mind makes him lose eye-hand coordination. One spectacularly embarrassing morning he is horrified when his dick chubs up at the thought of those hands back on his hips. He spends the rest of the day overanalyzing if the arousal was his own and then avoids Liam for three days.
Slowly, Theo learns how to convey emotions, too. How to tell which are his and how they can be shared, he definitely does not dwell on what that meant for the morning of the disastrous arousal. Eventually it almost feels like having conversations again. Meanwhile, pack nights are tense, full of things left unsaid and emotions left unfelt. People skirt around them, keeping them at each other’s arm’s length. Theo almost feels like he belongs, until he catches Stiles' seething eyes, then he’s back at being the sarcastic asshole that’s just temporarily toeing the line between pack and parasite.
As their bond touches become more and more frequent, a new tension makes itself known between Theo and Liam. Still, neither of them makes a move, either too scared to accept the consequences or too self-despising to believe in the possibility of a future.
VI - Time moves on.
Sometimes Theo forgets that it’s barely been a moon cycle since he was let into the pack. It seems so odd catching himself referring to the spare room in Melissa's home as his room. He knows too well that they will not accept any form of repayment for what they gave him, so he sneaks in groceries and takes care of chores before Melissa can catch up with what needs to be done in-between nightshifts.
There is still a light air of distrust around pack night, but Theo can tell that most of them probably enjoy hating him. Theo plays his part with practiced charming wit and sarcasm and welcomes Tracy’s coming out as a lesbian with a “colour me shocked” joke. There’s laughter and a potato chip flung at his head. Theo trains with Josh and patrols at night, often alone. The hospital construction site will be done soon. Everything seems to be going for the best, and, of course, that is the exact moment it all goes awry again.
It’s the new moon, and a poltergeist is wreaking havoc in the public library. Typical. Mason and Liam are trying to keep it contained, while invisible Corey draws the sigil they need to banish it. Theo is running in the community garden, desperately searching for some sage. He apologizes to the fictional pig-tailed six-year old that planted this and tears up a bunch of leaves, fastening them as quickly as he can.
On his way back to the room he snags a couple of iron bolts from a shelf and makes a mental note to return them before morning. Theo cringes at the door uprooted on its hinges and tosses the bolts in Corey’s general direction. In the centre of the room, Mason and Liam are tossing back the books that are being thrown at them from a shelf.
“Really? A copy of Les Misérables? We are in the Spanish section, who the hell organised these?” Screams Mason, and then yelps when two books sharply change path and travel towards his head. He takes cover behind a desk. Liam is laughing on the other side of the room.
A copy of Where’s Waldo? makes its way to hit Liam, and he laughs harder, avoiding it. “So you have a sense of humour, eh, ghostie? Where are you?” All the floating books fall to the ground.
“Uh-oh.” Breathes Mason, just as all the books are picked up and start swirling towards Liam. “You and your big mouth, Liam, I swear to god!”, Mason yells as he scrambles to get his metal bat from the corner where it had been previously discarded. He doesn’t know what good it can do, but it feels comforting.
Theo places the burning leaves in a five point star shape on the floor, following the diagram they found. The smoke rises in perfect columns, placid and undisturbed from any air current. Theo hates magic rituals. Corey has since started reciting the incantation. The books promptly fall back to the ground, revealing a kneeling Liam. Mason lowers the bat he had been swinging at the books without purpose.
Corey keeps reading, but gasps and is interrupted when the smoke from the sage leaves starts violently swirling and converging towards the centre of the star shape. “What’s going on?” Asks Mason, panicked.
“The spirit is trying to use the ritual’s energy to take physical form!” Corey slams the book closed and tries to erase the sigil with one of the bolts. A violent swing of smoke slaps him away. “Theo, put the fires out!”
Theo curses loudly and, avoiding the smoke tendrils, tries to reach the burning leaves only to be thrown away. Mason wildly swings the bat at the leaves, until one of the fires is put out. The smoke dissipates completely. He shrugs at Theo’s stare, “What? It worked.” Theo snorts.
Then the magic circle promptly explodes in a dance of fizzling smoke, and a violent sweep of air knocks them all on their backs. Letting out a defeated breath, Theo lifts an arm and with a shaking voice goes: “New rule. We always need to have at least one bottle of holy water on us, yes?”. Mason meekly replies: “Seconded.”. Theo’s arm falls back on his face with a sigh; he truly despises magic rituals.
They shakily get to their knees and start assessing the mess. There's books everywhere and the clean up from the magic circle will be a pain in the ass, but all things considered, it could have been worse. Until...
“Uhm, guys? It’s not over yet.” Corey calls out to them. “What now?” Mason and Theo say at the same time, turning to look at him and then following his outstretched hand pointing to Liam. Who is slowly rising from his kneeling stance, fully shifted and snarling. There’s a flash of yellow that slowly fades and warps to a sickly green. Theo only has a split second to shove Mason out of the way and parry the first slash from a possessed Liam.
“Corey, any ideas?” He chokes out, his attention focused on avoiding Liam’s sharp claws aimed at his eyes. Grabbing Liam’s wrists, Theo turns on his heels and flings the other boy across the room, where he lands on a pile of books. There’s no respite, as Liam springs to his feet as if nothing happened and runs towards Mason again, only to find Theo’s fists again.
Corey is frantically searching the book, afraid that if they do not alter the possession quickly, the spirit and Liam will be permanently tied. He stumbles upon a minuscule footnote, half erased by time and a smear that looks suspiciously like blood.
“MASON! Get out of here!” Corey yells and suppresses a smile when Mason does not question him, opting to close what remains of the door on his way out.
At the squeaking of the half-destroyed hinges, Liam turns his head at an unnatural angle to focus on it, losing any attention for Theo, who leans down on his hands and swipes a leg underneath Liam’s legs, sending him to crumble in a growling heap on the floor.
Liam contorts to regain his footing, more animal than man, and starts moving towards the door, shifting on hands and feet, half crawling and half skipping, eyes frantically searching for the human boy that escaped.
Theo grabs Liam’s ankles and pulls towards him, sitting on his stomach and grabbing his clawed hands just in time not to get his face reduced to tartare. Liam is shaking and foaming at the mouth, head arching backwards, green glowing eyes rolling back and forth with each snarl. Corey quickly sits on Liam’s legs, back to back with Theo.
“Theo, the spirit is at war with his wolf; you need to bring him back. We only have a couple of minutes before...”
“Got it.” Says Theo, unexpectedly calm, and decks Liam straight in the jaw, sending him slumped on the floor, still foaming and weakly snarling at Theo.
“Come on, you stupid idiot. Stay with me.” Slap. Liam snarls. “You don’t even talk to me.” Slap. Another snarl. “And now you get yourself possessed.” Slap. Liam tries to wiggle away with a weak menacing hiss. “You are short…” slap “and annoyingly beautiful.” Slap. Liam goes still. “Don’t you dare die on me.” Slap. Liam blinks, growling softly. “I said, don’t you dare…” Sla- Liam catches Theo’s hand in mid-air, eyes glowing yellow and cheeks red. “T-Theo” he manages to rasp out. Slap.
A thin cloud of lime green smoke erupts from Liam’s mouth and nose, it drips from his ears and tear ducts, snaking up the air and towards the ceiling, only to encounter the lit-up bundle of herbs that Corey is holding parallel with Liam’s forehead. As Corey murmurs the purification spell, the smoke from the bundle and the green cloud entangle, fizzling and exploding in bright purple goop all over their faces.
Theo drags two fingers across his eyes and shakes them clean. He exhales slowly, looking down at Liam, who is out cold and softly snoring. Slap.
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The aftermath is nothing but teenage angst, and Theo is fed up. Possession incident aside, the only real damage was the upheaved door and a few books with cracked spines. When he had pointed that out, he had gotten a scalding look from the librarian, who he is pretty sure is some form of supernatural hag, and wisely decided to take a breather.
Then Scott showed up. All mother hen-like, and Theo had to resist the urge to throw up a little in his mouth. He of course did not feel warm and safe when Scott insisted on checking him over. Nope. Not at all. No way.
A couple hours later, Mason and Corey are cuddling on the couch as they wait for Liam to sleep it off. Theo keeps wandering closer to the sleeping boy and then promptly walking away as if burned. After the fifth time, Mason gives an exasperated sigh and "He is going to be okay, Theo. You can check on him. He won't bite." Theo prepares to spit out an unimpressed response, but he doesn't get to, as Liam stirs and groans. Theo is by his side in an instant, hesitantly reaching out towards his forehead. He allows himself a minuscule touch and is startled as Liam instinctively nuzzles his fingers, sighing peacefully Theo's name and inhaling his scent deeply.
Mason and Corey leave soon after, citing needing to rest up and study. As if it isn't a Saturday and they aren't eyeing each other like starved animals. Theo chuckles to himself and sits by the bed, looking over Liam.
Liam doesn't remember being hit by a truck. Clearly, he is also concussed, because that is the only explanation for the ache in his body when he wakes up. The soft mid-morning light is too bright, and with a startle, he realizes he is not alone in his room. Right next to his hip lies a sleeping Theo, sitting cross-legged on the floor, their hands barely apart.
Liam gasps softly and sits up on instinct, dragging the blanket from under Theo's head. "W-what?" says an exhausted sounding Theo before regaining focus and boring into him with a sharp gaze. "Did you hit me with your truck?" Liam asks before he can help himself. He snaps his mouth shut for about 0.3 seconds and then immediately starts making it worse. "Not that I don't deserve it, I mean. And I am not saying that your first resolve would be vehicular manslaughter but you know you sort of have a history of violence and..." he pauses, looking at a stunned Theo. "I think I will shut up now."
Theo can't do anything other than laugh. Full on, deep in the belly laugh until he struggles to stand up and has to lie his head on the bed because he cannot keep it up without help. Liam blushes furiously, wondering how much farther he can shove his own foot in his mouth, but then stops mid-breath, rapt by how free Theo looks while laughing. "Gorgeous..." he exhales and feels hot all over, his blush quickly expanding to his chest.
Theo gives a startled cough and sits up straight, electing to look anywhere but at Liam's face. "No, actually. The spirit in the library took your body for a spin." Liam blinks at him. "Oh. That explains it." There's an awkward silence that fills the room, thickening the air between them as they both look away. Theo finds that counting the threads on the carpet is his top priority right about now. After a few unbearably long seconds, Liam sighs. "Theo, I am so sorry. I swear I did not know, I wouldn't have done anything if-" "If you had known I was a virgin? Sorry for the disappointment." Theo snaps back defensively.
"No! I mean that I would have wanted to give you exactly what you deserve and show you what it really means to be loved!" They both stagger to an alt at Liam's words. Theo swallows thickly and stammers out a pathetic "wh-what?" which is lost in Liam's screech of embarrassment. Theo jumps up and tries to leave, but Liam is faster. He corners him at the door, putting a hand on the knob and the other on Theo's hip. "Please. Listen to me." Theo is absolutely not staring at his lips. He gives a minuscule nod.
Liam lets his head fall and sighs deeply, "I am so sorry. I know what I did is horrible. I cannot give back what I took, but if you will allow me, I will give everything I have to show you how much better I can be."
"Time moves on." Liam lifts his head and finds Theo with his eyes shut, head leaning back on the door frame. "What?" He asks, letting his hands fall to his sides. "Time moves on." Theo opens his eyes, staring at him intensely. "It's what Melissa told me the night I joined the pack." Liam still looks confused, but Theo doesn't slow down. "What you did was not okay, but neither is most of what I've ever done. Time moves on, and if we don't, we get trampled." Liam looked clearly on the verge of interrupting him, but Theo did not give him time to. "I want to try and rebuild my trust in you, in this pack. I want to move on."
Liam smiles and instinctively steps closer, smelling of clean grass and sunshine, tentative hand back on Theo's hip, until a hand stops him. "Little Wolf, I can't yet." Liam feels his face getting hotter, and can't help but smile wider. "You called me Little Wolf". It is now Theo's turn to blush. Liam steps back once more and outstretches his hand; "Friends?" Theo takes it and briefly laces their fingers together. "Pack."
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Two hours, two fat sandwiches, and most of a Mario Kart cup later, Mason and Corey are back and they are all hanging out on the couch, racing against each other in teams. Suddenly, Liam shouts: "HEY! You called me short!". Theo shoots a green shell at him, ignoring his indignant shouts, as Mason cackles in the background and Corey gains first place.