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Theo woke up with a heavy feeling in his gut, an ominous certainty that today would spiral into something terrible.
As he and Liam trekked deeper into the heart of the sprawling forest, that sense of impending doom only intensified. They had planned to leave much earlier to meet with the rest of the pack, but Liam had been adamant about continuing the search for any clues related to the murders of several supernaturals. The thought of those deaths hung over them like a dark cloud.
“Watch your step,” Theo chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as Liam stumbled over a tree root, nearly losing his balance. He instinctively reached out, grasping Liam's elbow to steady him.
“Very funny,” Liam retorted, smirking as he swatted Theo gently on the chest, a playful spark in his eyes.
Despite the heavy atmosphere, they continued their slow progress through the forest, punctuating the silence with laughter and lighthearted jabs. The soft crunch of grass and brittle leaves beneath their feet offered a comforting rhythm against the tense backdrop.
“So, when can we throw in the towel and head back?” Theo asked, glancing back at Liam. “We’ve been wandering out here for an hour and a half, and we haven’t found anything.”
“Just a little more patience. We’ll find something, I promise. Anything,” Liam insisted cheerfully, his smile reassuring Theo, if only for a moment.
Little did they know, help—or rather trouble—was closing in on them in the form of a lurking group of hunters.
Their scents—metal, gunpowder, and a faint, sickly sweet trace of wolfsbane—didn’t register until it was too late. They were surrounded.
“SHIT!” Theo shouted, instinctively stepping in front of Liam, his heart racing.
“Crap, we’re surrounded,” Liam hissed, his voice barely above a whisper, a wave of anxiety washing over him.
“We need to break through and get back to the others, or at least find a place to hide,” Theo strategized, adrenaline coursing through him as his eyes sparked with determination. His canines lengthened, and sharp claws extended from his fingertips, ready for the fight.
“Right. Let’s do this,” Liam replied, mirroring Theo’s transformation, his eyes glowing with a predatory light.
With their backs pressed together, they charged at the encircling hunters, dodging bullets and expertly navigating the chaos of the ensuing fight. Their world transformed into a flurry of motion—cries of pain, the sharp crack of gunfire, and the metallic scent of blood mingling with the fresh forest air.
As the altercation escalated, crimson droplets splattered the lush greenery beneath their feet. Both boys were bruised and battered, but surged on with determination.
As long as they avoided the bullets, they assured themselves, they would be fine.
Theo was the more bloodied of the two; his dark jeans soaking up the life force of the hunters he had taken down, the crimson streaks a fierce reminder of the violence surrounding them. His once-grey t-shirt was now a gruesome canvas, flecked with bright red.
Sprays of blood dotted his face, remnants of a frenzied fight he’d unleashed, his instincts taking over as he allowed his primal rage to flow. He was resolute in his determination to ensure none of the hunters left alive; they would remember this confrontation as their last.
Lost in the conflict, he finally registered the agonized howl that reverberated through the air—a sound that sent chills down his spine.
“AH, SHIT!” Liam yelled from behind him, the panic in his voice cutting through the chaos.
Theo spun around, fear flooding his senses as he saw Liam clutching his side, the white fabric of his shirt rapidly saturating with a deep red stain.
“LIAM!” he bellowed, every instinct screaming as he momentarily abandoned the fray in front of him, focusing solely on the boy he loved.
His heart racing, Theo charged toward him, pushing through the remaining hunters, indifferent to the injuries he sustained in the process.
He hadn’t fully grasped how far they had drifted apart until now, when every second felt like an eternity.
As Liam continued to fight, one hand pressed tightly against his wound while the other fought valiantly against the hunter in front of him, his face twisted in pain, Theo sprinted closer.
Time seemed to stretch and compress as he ran, ignoring the bullet that lodged painfully in his left thigh, the fiery pain threatening to buckle his leg beneath him.
When he finally reached Liam, both boys were a mess of injuries and exhaustion. Liam's wounds told a brutal story—a bullet wound in his side, deep gashes across his torso, and another gunshot in his right thigh.
Theo’s resolve hardened; they had to escape while they still could.
Grabbing Liam by the waist, Theo hoisted him up, his arm draping over Theo's shoulder as they made their way through the remaining hunters, bloodied and desperate. He fought through sheer instinct, dispatching each foe that blocked their path, adrenaline masking the pain of bullets that grazed him and slashes that tore through flesh.
Exhausted from the relentless march, he refused to slow down, propelled by a singular thought: survival.
He ran and ran, not daring to stop until the scents and sounds of their pursuers faded into the distance.
Even then, he continued to dash through the underbrush, staying alert, fueled by the primal need to protect Liam.
As they reached a shallow river, Theo felt the world around him come crashing down. He collapsed by the water’s edge, gently lowering Liam to the ground as carefully as he could manage.
His legs shook from exertion, fueled by adrenaline and pain from the bullet wound. But he pushed aside any thought of his own injuries; all he cared about was Liam's safety.
“Liam... Liam,” Theo uttered urgently, his voice cutting through the thick air as he knelt beside the boy sprawled out on the ground. Panic etched into his features, he gripped Liam’s shoulders, willing him to stay alert. “Hey, stay with me.”
“I’m right here, Theo. I’m not going anywhere,” Liam replied, his voice shaky and unconvincing, an undercurrent of fear betraying his brave facade.
“I need to stop the bleeding, but it’s going to hurt,” Theo warned, taking a deep breath before gently prying Liam’s trembling hand away from the gaping wound in his side. He swiftly pushed aside the boy’s torn shirt, his heart racing as he assessed the damage. The sight of the jagged hole in Liam’s flesh sent a jolt of dread through his gut. Theo, frantically tearing at his own shirt, making makeshift bandages, hurriedly packing the fabric into the wound as tightly as he could. Blood oozed around his hands, warm and sticky.
“Baby, you’re bleeding,” Liam said weakly, his thumb brushing against the bullet hole in Theo’s thigh, where crimson droplets stained his jeans.
“It’s not important. I’m fine,” Theo grunted, forcing a smile through the pain as he pressed harder against the various gashes marring Liam’s body. He could feel the heat radiating from the boy’s skin, a stark reminder of the life seeping away with every heartbeat.
“Shit,” Theo cursed under his breath as he noticed the blood seeping through the makeshift bandage he had stuffed into Liam’s abdomen. Anxiety clawed at him, each moment feeling heavier than the last.
“Theo, just leave me. Call the others and get out of here,” Liam cried, his voice thick with emotion as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.
“No,” Theo snapped fiercely, fire igniting in his chest. The mere thought of abandoning Liam was unbearable. He would rather face the Grim Reaper himself than run away like a coward. “I’m not leaving you. I’d rather die trying to save you than leave you to die here alone.”
Desperation surged within him as he fished Liam’s phone out of his pocket—he had been holding both their devices after Liam handed his over to play music earlier. Scrolling through Liam’s contacts, Theo’s heart raced as he quickly found Scott’s name and pressed the call button, putting the device on speaker.
“Hey, Liam, when are you guys—” Scott’s voice rang out, only to be abruptly cut off by Theo’s frantic outburst.
“Scott! Liam’s hurt really badly! He’s bleeding a lot, and I can’t stop it! He got shot in his side, and I tried packing it with my shirt, but it’s bleeding right through! There’s so much blood, and I don’t know what to do! Please get here! Bring Deaton, Argent, and everyone else! I think the hunters are still around!” Theo’s words tumbled out in a frantic rush, the panic palpable in his tone as he pressed harder against the wound.
“Okay, yeah. We’re on our way. Just stay on the phone with me, alright? I don’t want you to be alone if anything happens,” Scott assured him, the unspoken weight of his words hanging heavy in the air: If anything happens to Liam, if Liam dies, I don’t want you to be alone.
To Theo, it felt like hours had passed as he fought to keep Liam conscious, applying pressure to the still-bleeding wound. Time seemed to stretch and warp, each moment dragging on in agonizing slow motion. How much longer could Liam withstand this?
With tears glistening in his eyes, Theo fought to hold them back, refusing to succumb to despair. If he started to cry, he feared he’d never stop. He had to stay strong for Liam, so he pushed his own feelings deep inside, trying to keep his emotions at bay.
Inside, however, he was unraveling. His heart was in tatters, the weight of impending loss crushing him. Exhaustion settled heavily on his shoulders, both physically and emotionally.
“Li, keep your eyes on me. Scott’s coming. Everyone’s coming, so just stay with me,” he whispered desperately, his voice trembling.
Liam's eyelids drooped, but he fought against the fatigue, sensing the urgency in Theo’s voice. The raw anguish etched on Theo’s face twisted Liam’s heart.
“THEO! LIAM!” A familiar voice called from a distance.
Both boys instantly recognized that voice.
“SCOTT, OVER HERE!” Theo shouted, relief surging through him.
He turned to see Scott and the pack breaking through the treeline, sprinting towards them with grim determination.
“Shit,” Scott murmured, his eyes scanning the scene and taking in the severity of their injuries as he rushed to their side.
Deaton and Argent followed closely behind, their arms laden with supplies as they leaped into action, rushing past Theo to take over the urgent care Liam desperately needed.
In that moment, Theo was a mere bystander, pushed to the side as the rush of trained hands worked swiftly to stop Liam from bleeding out. He felt as though he were watching through fogged glass, disconnected from the action unfolding before him.
Frozen in place, Theo glanced down at his hands, coated in fresh blood that wasn’t his own. On any other day, he would have been indifferent to blood, but the reality of being covered in Liam’s blood sent a visceral wave of nausea through him.
His chest tightened, and a lump lodged firmly in his throat, rendering him helpless against the dread washing over him.
Suddenly, a firm hand on his shoulder jolted him from his spiral of despair. He looked up, meeting Derek’s gaze. The typically stoic boy's expression was laced with concern.
Without a word, Derek enveloped Theo in a tight embrace, pulling him away from the scene as more pack members joined Argent and Deaton in their frantic attempts to save Liam.
Theo initially resisted the embrace, desperately wanting to remain close to Liam, but soon the strength drained from his body, leaving him motionless in the older boy’s firm hold. He felt trapped, his heart heavy with an unshakeable dread.
Amid the chaotic rush of frantic voices surrounding him, he noticed Derek tense up beside him—a subtle shift that drew Theo’s attention with alarming intensity.
Breaking free from the hug, he spun around, his heart racing as he followed Derek’s gaze.
Liam…
No, not Liam. Anyone but Liam. Why did it have to be him?
“Li—” the sound of Theo’s voice, shaky and broken, sliced through the noise, surprising him as it echoed in his ears.
As he advanced through the throng of pack members, a chilling sight froze him in place. There lay Liam, sprawled on the grass, which had turned a sickening shade of crimson, soaked with his blood.
Blood.
The harsh reality of it consumed Theo’s thoughts, a relentless reminder of the horror before him.
“Liam!” he called out, desperation threading through his voice as he strained to reach the unconscious boy.
Pushing through the crowd with frantic urgency, Theo’s heart sank further as he drew nearer. Liam lay there, his eyes wide open yet lifeless, devoid of any spark or vitality.
The once-familiar rhythm of Liam's heartbeat, a constant reassurance, had vanished. The silence enveloped Theo like a suffocating shroud.
“Oh god, please!” he wailed, the sounds of his anguish erupting from deep within. Unable to maintain his composure any longer, he fell to his knees beside Liam, the cold grass beneath him a stark contrast to the warmth of his grief. He cradled Liam’s head, pulling it gently to his chest, tears cascading down his cheeks like an unrelenting waterfall.
In that moment, all pretenses dropped away. He was too engulfed in sorrow to care about the pack witnessing his breakdown. Fragile and broken, he let the weight of his emotions pour out unrestrained, his body wracked with gut-wrenching sobs.
The rest of the pack stood frozen, watching helplessly as Theo—the normally stoic, courageous one—crumbled under the overwhelming burden of loss.
They couldn’t bear to watch Theo like this, turning around to give him some privacy.
Their eyes glistened with unshed tears, reflecting the shared pain of a life lost too soon, especially one as vibrant as Liam's.
Desperation clawed at Theo’s throat, his breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as if each inhale had to battle against the despair closing in on him. His cries echoed through the stillness, raw and filled with an inconsolable grief that no words could remedy.
As time wore on, a heavy silence settled in after the storm of his sorrow, and when the pack finally turned their eyes back to Theo, he was gone—vanished into the shadows of the night.
“We should go after him,” Scott proposed, his brow furrowed with concern, ready to rush after Theo.
“No, give him some space for now,” Derek replied softly, gripping Scott’s arm firmly. “I’ll check on him later. He needs to be alone for a while. Trust me, I understand what he’s going through. Right now, he wouldn’t want anyone crowding him or pitying him.”
Before anyone else could utter a single word, Deaton's urgent voice sliced through the tension hanging in the air.
“I’ve got a pulse,” he declared, the tremor in his voice underscoring the gravity of the situation. “It’s weak—really weak—but Liam’s still alive.”
As those words left his lips, the anxious eyes of the group darted to the boy sprawled on the forest floor, his body seemingly lifeless.
“We need to get him to the clinic,” Deaton instructed, swiftly packing up his medical supplies after carefully finishing the bandaging on Liam’s injured side.
Without hesitation, Scott was the first to spring into action, hoisting the frail body of his beta off the ground. He moved with purpose, urgency driving him as they raced toward the edge of the haunted woods. Derek rushed to his side, wrapping an arm around Liam to bolster his strength. The two boys worked in perfect sync, hurrying to the car, hearts pounding with the frantic hope that they might still save him.
“We should tell Theo,” Corey finally chimed in, breaking his silence since their arrival.
“No,” Argent interjected firmly. “We’ll inform him when Liam isn't in critical condition.”
The drive to the clinic stretched out, filled with palpable tension as they fought through the silence, each boy lost in thoughts of what might happen next. Together, they maneuvered Liam’s fragile form into the clinic and, in a flurry of focused energy, cleared the room to allow Argent, Deaton, Scott, and Derek to work on him.
Time seemed to stretch endlessly as they finally applied the last bandage, leaving them in a nerve-wracking waiting game—now it was a matter of whether Liam would awaken from his life-threatening condition.
Days trickled by like drops of rain, each one passing without a sign of Theo. Not even Derek or Argent could track him down, their worry growing with every fruitless attempt.
Meanwhile, Theo was preoccupied with a chilling mission of his own. He had set out with fierce determination, hunting down every single hunter who had been present that day, exacting a brutal form of vengeance. The initial encounters had been challenging, chaotic battles, but he eventually discovered a hidden bunker where the hunters had taken refuge, seeking to lick their wounds after their brutal skirmish with him and Liam.
With many of the hunters incapacitated and unable to flee, Theo found himself in the perfect position to unleash his wrath.
He butchered them all, a violent symphony of chaos, but not before taking one hunter captive for interrogation.
“I already told you to kill me—I’m not telling you anything,” the hunter gasped, blood and mucus dribbling from his lips as he spoke, his defiance a flicker of hope in the grim situation.
“You’re in no position to defy me,” Theo replied, his expression devoid of any emotion, save for the sinister smile curling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes held an unsettling emptiness, reflecting the horror around him—a disturbing scene of bloodshed and destruction.
“Kill me already,” the hunter spat defiantly, blood splattering across Theo’s once-clean face.
The taunting only fueled Theo's cold fury. He stood, tired of the idle banter, and wiped the blood hastily from his cheek, smearing it further in the process. Striding across the room, he grabbed a rusted lead pipe—an instrument of fear he had used earlier against other hunters.
“You know, before I end your life, I think I’ll pay a visit to your home and deal with your family,” Theo said, circling the hunter bound to a metallic gate, savoring the fear that seeped from his prey. “I’ll start with your wife, Anne—imagine her horror as I take her life right in front of kids’ eyes. Then I’ll let your twins run wild, thinking they’ve escaped my grasp. I’ll hunt them like prey, and just when they believe they’re free, I’ll gut Joseph and decapitate Stephen.”
With a predatory smile on his face, he leaned in closer to the frightened hunter. “And when I’m finished, I’ll bring their remains back here for you to see. Perhaps I’ll even make a meal of their organs.”
“Okay… okay,” the hunter stammered, panic overtaking his defiance as terror filled his eyes. “I’ll tell you who gave us the order. Just please—spare my family!”
“Don’t mistake my willingness; I don’t have to do anything. But since you’re so eager to give me information now, I’ll consider sparing them—for now. But if you lie to me, I’ll hunt them down,” Theo said, his grip tightening relentlessly in the hunter's hair.
“Morse,” the hunter gasped, choking on his fear. “He goes by Morse. He’s been watching you all for a long time—put a hit out on you a week before we ambushed you.”
“Okay…” Theo said in a chilling calm before plunging his claws deep into the hunter’s skull, leaving him lifeless and discarded.
Theo had no further use for the hunter; he had the information he needed and would continue on his path of vengeance.
——
Days stretched into a blur as Theo relentlessly pursued leads that would reveal Morse’s hideout. With each passing hour, the number of hunters he killed grew, each life claimed adding to the dark reputation he was forging within their world.
Word of his violent rampage eventually reached Argent, who immediately alerted the pack to Theo’s descent into madness.
They understood Theo was fueled by pain, but beneath the surface, they felt the urgency to intervene. They couldn’t allow him to continue on this destructive path—revenge might provide temporal relief, but it wouldn’t mend the void left in his spirit.
Employing all their tracking skills, Argent managed to trace Theo’s bloody trail. The news of Theo’s pursuit of Morse also reached the pack. A determined plan formed; they would have to reach Morse before Theo could find him, hoping to prevent an even darker fate from unfolding.
____
It took Theo an excruciating two extra days to piece together Morse's location, finally tracking him to a decrepit house hidden away on the outskirts of a forgotten town. The building loomed ominously against the twilight sky. Theo suspected that the hunting dogs had caught wind of his pursuit; he could almost feel their eyes lurking in the shadows, eager to pounce.
There was no secrecy in Theo’s mission. He was an open book, fueled by a fierce need for closure. He just didn’t know that Morse wasn't alone within those walls.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows across the ground, Theo settled into a strategic position, observing the house meticulously. Hours ticked by as he witnessed the comings and goings of various figures—hunters, he presumed. The sight of so many men inside was staggering, more than he had anticipated—and yet, he thrived on the challenge.
Navigating through the dimly lit rooms, the air thick with tension, he encountered hunters one by one, slaughtering them with a ruthless efficiency that left behind a trail of bodies. The chaos of the struggle was unforgiving; he was bruised and bloodied, but even the sharp aches of various gashes across his body felt insignificant. He was fueled by a singular purpose.
“Morse, I've finally tracked you down,” he declared, his voice a feral growl as he confronted the heavily armed hunter standing defiantly before him.
“Congratulations. But unfortunately for you, this is where your story ends,” Morse retorted, a grim smirk plastered across his face, laced with arrogance.
Theo didn’t flinch. “I don’t fear death,” he replied, his resolve hardening. “In fact, I’m looking forward to it.” With that, he braced himself for the imminent fight.
___
As the battle raged on, Morse quickly found himself outmatched. Theo’s primal ferocity was something he had underestimated, the sheer power coursing through him a force of nature. Every blow exchanged only lit the flames of wrath burning within Theo, intensifying his resolve.
Both men were battered beyond recognition—Theo’s shoulder had a bullet wound, and a deep stab wound marred his thigh. A nasty gash across his forehead dripped blood into his eyes, but he would not falter. Morse, on the other hand, was worse. His lower abdomen was crisscrossed with deep claw gashes, one of his arms hung twisted and limp, and his right eye was swollen shut, his face blooded.
“Please, just let me go,” Morse uttered, desperation creeping into his tone. “In this condition, I won’t even be able to hunt. I swear, I won’t come after you again.”
Theo felt a surge of anger on hearing the words. There would be no mercy for Morse, not after what had happened to Liam.
“Fight me or die!” Theo snarled with fierce determination, driving his claws deep into Morse’s abdomen and pinning him to the cold wooden floor beneath.
Before he could tighten his grip or inflict further pain, the sudden sound of heavy footsteps echoed, approaching quickly and ominously, and interrupted him.
Just from the sound, Theo knew who to expect before they stepped into view.
“Theo, enough. Let him go,” Scott urged, entering the room cautiously, his voice laced with concern. He moved towards Theo, his demeanor gentle yet firm, treating him as he would a cornered beast. “This isn’t how Liam would want you to handle this.”
“Yeah well then he shouldn’t have died! Maybe then his opinion would be considered" Theo shouted, anger and heartbreak mingling in his voice, and with that, he plunged his claws deeper into Morse, earning a pained scream.
“Theo!”
That voice surged through him like an electric shock, so familiar that he thought he must be imagining it. It echoed again, pulling him from the brink of rage.
“Theo,” it called, clearer this time.
Turning his head slowly, Theo could hardly believe his eyes. Standing a few feet away, illuminated by the fading light, was Liam—alive, breathing, real.
“Li…?” Theo’s voice cracked, tears threatening to spill from his bloodshot eyes as disbelief washed over him.
“Li,” he whispered, heart racing as recognition flooded over him.
His Liam.
“HOW... I thought I lost you,” Theo stammered, tears cascading down his face, each one a testament to the hope he had thought extinguished.
Liam stepped closer, the confidence radiating from him causing Scott to step back and give them space.
“Just let him go, please,” Liam pleaded, his voice steady yet gentle, soothing like balm on an open wound.
With a gasp, Theo retracted his claws, feeling the weight of the world lift slightly as he released Morse, who let out a heavy grunt beneath him. Rising to face Liam, Theo became painfully aware of his disheveled appearance; blood splattered across his clothes, tears blending with the remnants of his anger.
He could scarcely retain his composure, his hands trembling as he took hesitant steps toward Liam, each movement delicate, as though fearing that this moment might shatter like glass.
If this were a dream, God was particularly cruel.
But before he was fully aware of his actions, he sprinted across the distance, throwing himself at Liam, confident that the boy would catch him without hesitation.
Theo clung tightly to Liam, his body wracked with breathless sobs, loud and unabashed, each one a release of pent-up grief and relief.
He couldn’t care less who saw. His Liam was alive. His Liam had returned.
“I missed you so much,” Theo cried out, wrapping his arms around Liam, unable to let go.
“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon,” Liam promised, encompassing Theo in a protective embrace as the chaotic world around them began to fade into the background.