Chapter Text
For as long as Liam can remember, he’s been treated differently. He’s always been different, so it figures.
At first, it’s because of his IED. Intermittent Explosive Disorder, the doctor said to Liam’s anxious mother, as Liam preoccupied himself with a car toy, he has the tendency to exhibit bouts of uncontrolled rage. His mother asked him what that meant, with wide, fearful eyes, and the doctor smiled sadly and essentially relayed to her the news that Liam wouldn’t have a normal life.
At the time, Liam didn’t realize what this meant. He didn’t realize that it meant he’d be different from all the other kids, that he’d be the kid chosen last for team projects, that mothers would warn their children to stay away.
He quickly got used to it, however. Got used to being known as the psycho, along with other names jeered under their breaths as he walks right past them. And Liam’s ashamed to admit that he made it worse, giving into the pressure in his head and letting it control his hands, his legs, his everything. Liam didn’t want to be different, even if his mom tried to assure him that different was good. Liam hated being different.
Different was bad.
Until they moved to Beacon Hills, until his mom met his step-dad and he changed their lives, Liam would always be the crazy kid. The murderer in making, as they would jibe cruelly. He took up lacrosse, and it took him to heights he never would’ve otherwise reached, and Liam was so, so incredibly grateful.
And then he was bit. Liam used to be the angry kid, but now, he’s an angry werewolf. Becoming a werewolf hasn’t ‘cured’ his IED, not like with the others where it makes them better. It’s still there, under his skin, weaving through the junctures of his bones, existing with every breath in and out. It’s in him.
And, even with this change, Liam finds himself being treated with gloves, like a bomb with a hair-trigger’s worth of control. No one means to do it, he knows, but they all look at him skittishly, choose their words carefully, like they don’t want to make him mad. Like they’re afraid.
Sometimes, Liam thinks they should be.
But Theo isn’t like the others. No, Theo’s not afraid of Liam, he never was. He spits fire, breathes it straight into Liam’s lungs and watches him ignite. He pushes and pushes, and fights back when Liam’s fists can’t hold still. And when it all comes crashing down, he’s there, never touching but always watching, protecting. And it makes Liam feel, for the first time, normal.
So, yeah, he does the tiny things. He doesn’t mind very much if Theo doesn’t hug him, or cuddle him, though at times he wishes for it. He doesn’t mind being the one to have to do it, to press tender kisses to the chimera’s cheek and hold him. Because Theo might not admit it to himself, but he needs it. Both of them do. The reassurance that they’re not broken. That there’s nothing wrong with them, that they’re not failures.
Liam needs Theo. It’s as simple as that, it’s nothing complicated, nothing mind blowing. And Theo needs Liam too, he knows.
Which is why, when he tells the older boy about the lacrosse games, he’s hoping the chimera will object. Will let himself be selfish for once and tell Liam to stay. But it’s Theo, so he shuts down, and tells him to go.
And Liam does, with a heavy heart.
They’re sitting in their hotel room, bored and a little exhausted. Bus rides can do that, Liam knows, but he isn’t expecting to be this tired.
“You know what we should do?” Alex grins at Liam. Liam and Mitch both sigh, glancing at each other with sympathetic gazes, before turning to the unruly lacrosse player. “We should totally sneak out!”
“No.” Liam deadpans, setting his bag down on the bed with a yawn. “We literally just got here, I’m tired: just no.”
“I agree with Cap.” Mitch says, smiling fakely when Liam turns to glare at him.
“What?” Alex looks like someone just ran over his cat; hazel eyes wide and disbelieving. “Dude. Imagine all the hot babes—”
“Alex.” Mitch sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He reminds Liam uncannily of Corey when he does that, “You’re gay.”
“So?”
“Let me rephrase that for you.” Liam angrily unzips his bag, pulling out his phone to text Theo because he misses him. “You have a boyfriend.”
“Jeez, you guys are no fun.” Alex falls over on his bed, spreading his arms dramatically. “Buzzkills.”
“Douchebag.” Mitch fires back, before Liam sighs.
“Guys, stop.” He says in exasperation. “Can’t we just last two minutes without someone dying?”
“Ask him.” Mitch gestures, while Alex sits up specifically to glare at him.
“I’m not dealing with this.” Liam gets up, phone in hand. “You two better not kill each other while my back’s turned.”
He slips into the bathroom, not bothering to shut the door. It doesn’t matter anyway, since they both know he’s in there, and he’s not planning to pee or send any dick pics.
He smirks at the latter thought, even as a blush brushes his cheeks. That… wouldn’t be the worst possibility, anyway.
He pulls up the messaging app, already typing out a cheesy message—It’s cold here, without you—when things go wrong. There’s the sound of shouts from outside, and Liam can hardly react when Alex barrels in, knocking hard into him.
So hard, he drops his phone. And Liam’s life can’t possibly get any more pathetic because it falls straight into the toilet.
He stares at the fallen device in shock as Alex giggles beside him, no doubt trying to instigate Mitch some more. A low growl builds in his chest that quickly has his two human teammates stiffening, backing away.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” Alex meeps, stumbling into Mitch as they slowly back away. Liam breathes heavily, trying to remind him of the Three Things. The Sun, the Moon, the Truth. On repeat.
“My phone.” He grits out, pointing at the toilet bowl. “You fucker.”
Alec’s face looks halfway between laughing and screaming in terror. Mitch just looks horrified.
“Holy fuck, get it out then!” The brunette darts in, and picks up the phone, shaking it free of water. “Why’d you leave it in so long?”
“Are you fucking with me?” Liam demands, a low, familiar pressure beginning to stir in his chest. “Why couldn’t you two just stay in the fucking room!”
“It’s not a big deal?” Alex tries; the blonde cowers back when Liam turns his menacing stare on him. “Seriously, you can just use our phones while we’re here.”
“If only.” Liam’s fists clench as he fights to keep calm. “Theo’s number isn’t saved onto your phones, is it?”
“Dude, he’s your boyfriend-husband-thing.” Alex has never been comfortable with the word mate. “How do you not know his number?”
“I used to know it.” Liam grits out, stalking out of the bathroom so that he can dive face first onto the bed and stuff his head into his pillow. “But he changed his number recently.”
“Yikes.”
“The SIM’s basically dead too.” Mitch reports tiredly from the bathroom. “Seriously, Alex, good job.”
“How is this my fault?” Alex—oh, here they go again—protests vehemently. “You were the one who decided to—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Liam says authoritatively, unable to stop the anger from bleeding into his tone. The two of them abruptly close their mouths, but he can’t even find it in him to feel happy about it, too focused on staying calm. “Either unpack, or just sit there and, for the love of God: Don’t. Talk.”
“I’ll… go check on the other guys.” Mitch says, tiptoeing to the door; idiot, he knows Liam can still hear him.
“Me too!” Alex whisper-shouts as he bolts out, door slamming shut behind him. Now that the door’s closed, Liam can appropriately stew and panic.
Theo’s probably waiting for his text. Probably sitting on his bed, staring at his phone and wondering why Liam hasn’t bothered to contact him yet. Or maybe Liam’s kidding himself and Theo doesn’t care that much; but, that’s impossible, Theo’s his mate, his anchor and they wouldn’t be made for each other if they don’t care. Still, there’s nothing Liam can do about it.
And it just makes him so angry.
He tries to repeat his mantra, claws digging deep into wrists as he tries to let out the building anger, stem it another way but it doesn’t work so he shakily gets up, stumbles his way to his open duffel. He stares at it as he trembles with barely suppressed emotion, and brings his fist down into his wall of clothes, trying to make the pressure in his chest go away. He strikes it again, and again and again, even as the table wobbles, until he’s breathing harshly, sweat collecting along his brow as he backs away slowly. Collapsing back onto his bed, he lets out a stuttering breath.
He’s been here for all of an hour, and he’s already lost it. Liam’s always been a freak, and he never seems to do anything to prove otherwise.
Briefly, he wonders what Theo could be doing right now. Curling up on the couch, watching movies? Reclining in the tub, splurging on the bubble bath that he secretly loves? Maybe he’s trying his hand in the kitchen, making himself a sandwich like he always does, or settling for takeout. Theo’s always been big on meat, maybe he’s at the market trying to get something to make later on.
Or maybe he’s lying in bed, trying to fall asleep. Legs curled up and in, blanket draped loosely around his ankles, like Liam. Maybe he’s staring at the wall, counting the tics and imperfections and wondering how he’d look as a wall. Wondering how many flaws he’d have to show, and thinking that he’s a freak. Maybe he’s lonely and cold, like Liam, and wishing they were together.
Liam’s still shaking, and he shuts his eyes, pulling the blanket around him. He doesn’t know when the other two are gonna be back anyway, so he might as well try to get some shut eye.
Except he doesn’t.
Even when Alex and Mitch stumble back into the room, even when the sound of their soft breathing can be heard, Liam’s wide awake. Liam’s wide awake, with his hands fisting into his sheets, and the tangy taste of blood on his tongue.
Despite how much he usually protests the idea, Liam is thankful for being a werewolf sometimes. In times like these, for example, when it’s insanely helpful.
If Liam were human, he’d be stumbling around, eyes swollen shut and bags the size of mountains weighing him down. If Liam were human, he might’ve been benched, his exhaustion apparent to anyone whether they were actively looking are not.
But Liam’s not human. So, he walks to the field with his back straight, eyes carefully focused on the ground or, more specifically, on his feet.
‘just make sure not to trip over your feet when you’re on the field’ Theo’s voice whispers into his mind, and Liam instinctively thinks okay, before he feels stupid about it. He has no time to ponder it any longer, though, not when the team’s being ushered out onto the pitch, lights blinding them as the light shines in their faces.
The other team’s already there, standing almost menacingly, but Liam doesn’t let that intimidate him. Not when he’s faced things much worse than antsy young adults when he was just 15. Not when he’s a beast, with razor sharp claws, and burning fury. Not when he’s anchored, feet planted firmly to the ground.
They do their team cheer—stupid and redundant, as Theo would say with an obnoxious smirk—before the actual game starts. Liam’s body falls into a regular pattern, tense and ready, center balanced so he can react quickly, move around on nimble toes.
It’s an easy win. Which is why the strange uneasiness in Liam’s gut doesn’t do much to dampen his mood. When he starts thinking about Theo (when has he ever stopped?) he feels his chest twinge with regret. He wishes he brought something of Theo’s here, so that he’d at least have his scent around him.
Theo’s scent is everything to Liam. It’s something that’s so wholly infuriating yet grounding, so Theo that it’s almost unbelievable. Liam wishes he could pick out a word to describe the scent, but that’d be impossible. Liam likes to press his nose into the crook of Theo’s neck, loves to lay claim to his soft skin because he needs him, he can’t do it without him. And maybe that should be terrifying—and it once was—but it’s not anymore.
Liam thinks it makes perfect sense.
“Yo, cap!” Liam stares at his food, still thinking about Theo, when fingers snap merely inches away from his eyes. His first instinct is to grab that wrist, snap it and flip its owner over the table, but he quells it, breathes in and tells his wolf to cool it. He knows where he is, and it’s not a warzone. Not yet.
“What, Alex?” He sighs, eyes instinctively training behind him in search for Mitch. The two of them are usually hanging around each other anyway, so it’s odd not to see the brunette there.
Alex frowns, taking a seat beside him. Liam stiffens when he gets close, but forces himself to relax, raising an eyebrow in silent prompting.
“Are you…okay?” The blonde frowns, clearly uncomfortable with being… well, ‘not extra’ might be the best way to describe it. “You looked kind of upset?”
“I’m… okay.” Liam’s tongue feels rough as the lie scrapes off it. “It’s all good dude, don’t worry about it.”
“Is it your boyfriend?” Alex pays no mind, though the words come out hesitantly.
Liam’s reaction to that would normally be volatile, fangs bared as he’d snarl into the terrified boy’s face. But Liam doesn’t do that, shoulders slumping.
“I guess.” He admits lowly, poking at his fries with his finger and sighing when his nail sinks in, pulling away. “It’s just… he must be worried.”
“Dude.” The blonde doesn’t touch him—he’s learned not to after some extensive debriefing—but comes close. “Have you seen him? He’ll be fine.”
Liam smiles at him, unconvinced. He knows how Theo looks to other people, a solid wall of muscle and steel, unbreakable and invincible. But Liam sees through those fake walls, sees that they’re really made of crumbling plaster and are hiding the remnants of a boy to afraid to take off his mask after being submerged again and again.
“I’m sorry.” Alex’s voice is soft, and Liam’s head shoots up, not expecting his rambunctious teammate to say something so absurd. “I didn’t mean for—”
“For me to drop my phone down the toilet?” Liam offers up, shaking his head tiredly, unable to muster up the energy to be properly angry. “Nah, I guess I should’ve locked the door.”
Liam can basically scent the surprise wafting off Alex in waves.
“Really?” The human doesn’t bother hiding his surprise. “You’re not mad at me?”
“No.” Liam snorts, lazily chewing a fry and regretting it; it’s soggy. “Why, d’you want me to be?”
“Uh, no?” Alex’s eyes are wide, and he looks up behind Liam, before he gets up. “Mitch is probably gonna get himself killed so I better go make sure he only takes one brownie!”
Liam’s eyebrows furrow, nose scrunching up in that expression that Theo loves bringing onto his face, the one of ‘shaken disgust’. He immediately loses the look at the thought, before sighing and getting up, plate in hand. There’s no use crying over spilt milk.
He just hopes Theo won’t be mad at him by the time he gets home.
Liam pants, cheeks flushed and forehead lined with copious amounts of sweat. He doesn’t envy anyone who can smell him, luckily not being able distinguish much in his own scent. That would be torturous.
“Wow.” Mitch appears at his side as they walk off the field, Alex hooting impressively behind them, tackling some other unfortunate player. “You didn’t get a single foul. That’s got to be a record.”
“Guess so.” Liam shrugs. Frankly, he’s not sure how it’s managed to turn out this way, since he’s so used to letting instinct guide him. Maybe instinct was being nicer to him today? “Why, is it that surprising?”
When Mitch smells of utter incredulity, Liam gives in.
“Okay, yeah, it’s rare.” He admits. “Can’t we just be happy about it?”
“I guess?” Mitch raises a shoulder in a half-shrug, before jogging ahead of Liam. “I’m gonna hit the showers!”
Liam shouts back his okay since he knows Mitch usually can’t handle public celebrations, and adjusts his grip on his lacrosse stick as he walks towards the bench. The coach isn’t there, still on field congratulating the players. Liam’s done his part anyway, shaken hands with the other captain even though the other boy was glaring at him like his life depended on it.
He sets down the stick briefly, grabbing a water bottle and chugging some of the cool liquid down. He’s not excited about this win or anything; it’s a hollow victory, given that the other team didn’t have the same kind of advantage theirs did. And Liam can confirm it by scent, so it’s pretty much undisputed.
He picks his stick up again, intending to get back on the field, only to walk straight into a hard mass of muscle. He stumbles back, tensing when he sees that it’s one of the players from the other team.
“Can I help you?” He forces the words from his lips, not letting any irritation show on his features.
“Maybe you can.” The dude crosses his arms, and Liam can’t roll his eyes hard enough. By now, Liam would be shaking with unrestrained anger, fists clenched and drops of blood sliding down his knuckles from his claws. But, for some inexplicable reason, Liam feels calmer than he ever has before. There’s no pressure in his chest, nothing urging him to let his fist fly, decorate skin with hues of purple and red.
“Are we really doing this?” Liam lets his stance shift, showing just how impressed he is (not at all, and make sure he knows that something purrs, sounding suspiciously like Theo). “Seriously, maybe try for something more original next time?”
He moves to brush past the guy, but isn’t expecting him to grab him roughly by the shoulder and shove him back.
“What the fuck?” Liam spits. Still no anger, just annoyance.
“You guys are something else.” The player spits out, glaring venom.
“Yeah, it’s called skilled.” Liam emphasizes, before his eyes narrow. “Now back the fuck off before I get angry.”
“Okay, freak,” Liam tenses at the familiar name that he hasn’t heard for years, “Come at me!”
“I don’t think so.” Liam grits his teeth, and is saved from having to say more by Alex’s sudden presence.
“Hey!” He beams at the rival player, arm slung around the spiteful bastard’s shoulder as he leads him away with a quick wink at Liam. “My name’s Alex, what’s yours? We should totally exchange numbers, I’m thinking—”
Liam shakes his head with a fond smile as Alex distracts the other player, heading back to the field. His feet stop in their tracks when what just happened actually sinks in.
He didn’t get angry.
“Wait, so you want me to punch you?” Mitch clarifies, looking entirely doubtful. It’s Day 5 and Liam is officially freaking the fuck out.
“Yes.” He says resolutely, even as Alex lets out a disbelieving “What?!”
“Look, there’s something wrong with me!” Liam looks despairingly between the two of them. “I –I don’t know, I should’ve had at least one outburst by now, but there’s nothing!”
“What if it’s not nothing!” Alex points out. “What’re we supposed to do if you hulk out?”
Liam flinches back at that, making the blonde look guilty.
“Sorry.” Alex whispers, sincere, while Mitch picks it up. “Look, it’s incredibly risky—”
“Please.” Liam whispers, fists curling. He doesn’t know how to feel about this just yet, but he needs to know. “I have to know.”
“Fine.” Mitch sighs, and there’s no warning when his fist lashes out, striking Liam clear across the face. Pain blooms behind closed eyelids, and his nose is definitely broken.
He shakily presses his hand to the area, fingers coming away sticky with blood. His eyes water a little from the sting, but the break is already healing and, more importantly—
“I don’t feel it.”
Alex and Mitch are eyeing him warily, and Liam scents their confusion.
“You’re not mad?” Alex questions in disbelief. “Dude, something’s clearly up.”
“That’s what I was saying.” Liam frowns, concentrates. He feels his wolf there, curled protectively in the warmth of his chest, but— “Something’s missing.”
“Yeah.” Mitch says, startled. “The anger.”
“My wolf’s there.” Liam frowns, “But the pressure is all gone, it feels weird.”
“Dude, just ‘coz we know about your other life doesn’t mean we’re qualified for this.” Mitch clarifies, brow furrowed.
“Whatever, this is something you should celebrate!” Alex says, before hastening to say, “Not that you weren’t great to begin with, I’m just saying—”
“I get it dude, I really do.” Liam sighs, dropping onto the uncomfortable sofa, missing the ratty couch from home. “But everything about this just feels off, somehow.”
The feeling doesn’t go away, settling under Liam’s gut. This is something he thought he’d be celebrating, considering this is the one thing he’s been wishing for his whole life, but it seems strangely hollow. He should be leaping for joy, but there’s just this heavy weight that’s dragging him down by the ankles.
Liam resolves to talk to Deaton about this when he gets back to Beacon Hills. It’s only a matter of two days and he’ll get to see Theo again too.
Everything’s going to be fine.
Liam isn’t expecting to get ambushed by Mason the second he steps off the bus.
“Mason?!” He gasps in surprise, dropping his duffel for a hug, but frowns when he can scent anxiety rolling off his long-time friend in waves. “Wait, what’s wrong?”
“I don’t have time to explain.” Mason says urgently, “We need to go, it’s Theo.”
Liam’s heart nearly stops beating at that, and it feels like his feet are sinking into the ground. What’s wrong with Theo? Oh god, oh god, is he hurt, is he—
“Liam.” Mason’s hands ground him again. “We have to go.”
He meets understanding brown eyes, and swallows heavily, picking up his duffel and brushing past Mason to where he knows his car is parked.
He can hear Alex and Mitch behind him, and Mason’s low timbre providing an excuse, but that seems unimportant to him. No, his body is wired right now, singing for Theo, mate, where is he? Liam wonders if that’s why he’s been feeling so off for the past few days and grits his teeth.
If only he’d kept his phone safe with him, Theo might’ve been safe. Even though he knows next to nothing about the details, Liam just knows. A gut feeling, if you will.
“Get in!” Mason yells, and Liam only just realizes he’s still standing outside the car, shaking. He shakes his head, stumbling into his seat and barely remembering to put on his seatbelt as Mason pelts the car out of the lot.
“What’s going on?” He asks urgently, heart in his throat, breath rattling unsteadily in his lungs. He needs Theo to be okay, but how can he help without knowing what’s wrong? “What happened to Theo, Mason?”
Mason’s jaw is tense, like he’s barely holding back his anger.
“Why weren’t you picking up your phone?” His friend snaps back, eyes trained on the road.
“It broke, now tell me about Theo!” Liam demands, feeling his wolf rise slowly for the first time. Even so, it’s not right.
“I don’t know what happened exactly.” Mason shakes his head, turning the car sharply. “He was supposed to take out this Omega—”
“By himself?” Liam can’t help the affront from leaking into his tone, but doesn’t regret the iciness of it. Just because Theo’s survived things before doesn’t mean they just shove him into whatever danger pops up.
“Initially, yeah.” Mason admits reluctantly, making Liam growl softly. “But he was being really weird, so I called Derek in.”
“He’s in town?”
“Yeah, luckily.” Mason exhales shakily. “Or else, Theo would’ve been dead.”
Dead. Dead. Theo, dead.
“No.” Liam chokes out, “How is he now?”
Mason hesitates, and Liam can’t take it anymore.
“How is he now?!” He demands, and even though it’s not the usual flames pressing against his chest, it’s damn close. “For fuck’s sake, Mason—!”
“I don’t know, okay!” Mason yells back, and the car is lapsed back into a heavy, stagnant silence. “I… I don’t know. Deaton’s already visited the house, so we just need to get there, first.”
“Oh my god.” Liam breathes out shakily, slumping back into his seat. He presses a hand to his forehead, lets it rest there for a few minutes as he struggles to calm his racing heart.
“Liam, I—” Mason cuts himself off, before shaking his head and turning back to the road. “We’ll be there soon.”
And, maybe that’s supposed to console him, but all Liam can feel is staggering fear.
“Liam, wait!” Derek calls urgently as Liam makes to charge into the house. He turns, snarling; his wolf has finally come out, sensing their mate so close. “Wait, you don’t even know what’s going on—”
“I know that he’s hurt!” Liam yells out, a burst of anger finally showing after days. “That’s all that matters to me, so get out of my way.”
“Hold on.” Derek stops his with a hand pressed to his collarbone, making Liam stop in his tracks and growl threateningly at him. The older wolf just tilts his head with a pinched expression. “Just… just be careful.”
“You’re telling me that?” Liam sneers, barely holding onto to the frayed ends of his control. “I’m not going to hurt him.”
With that, he shoulders past him, letting his feet guide him to where he can scent Theo; the familiar earthy scent with… something stale?
That’s wrong.
Liam’s pace increases with his urgency, and he bursts into the main room, to find a bed and—
His breath catches in his chest.
“Theo?” He whispers into the still air, unable to trust his eyes, his nose. “Theo?”
There’s no answer, and Liam moves closer cautiously, barely holding back the troubled whine that itches to leave his lips.
There’s someone curled up under piles of blankets, silent save for the almost imperceptible chatter of teeth. Liam reaches out a hand, pulling back the layers slowly, with bated breath and—
“Oh god.”
Theo doesn’t seem to acknowledge him, just curls inwards, as through trying to make himself smaller. Liam can’t move though, mind slowly processing what he’s seeing.
This can’t be his mate. His mate has healthy tan skin, vivid green eyes, and a smirk to die for. His mate fights, vicious and strong and capable. This can’t be him, yet is.
Lips, bruised and bitten raw, trembling wetly in the dim light. Skin, pale and bruised with terrible shapes. Eyes, unfocused, glazed, unblinking. And there’s no sound, save for the occasional, hiccupping breath.
Someone did this to him. The rage that’s been simmering in Liam’s chest explodes.
Someone did this.
His wolf wars with him as he urges it to hunt, tear apart, kill and it forces him back, cares about mate, safe. Liam refutes, unable to think and wanting to let go of the pressure in his chest, no more holding back but again, his wolf reminds him, mate first.
And Liam yields, lets his wolf choose, in a moment of sheer insanity.
“Theo?” He asks softly, but there’s no answer; Theo’s still staring at something far away, far beyond what Liam can see. His wolf guides him into reaching out a hand, letting is press against Theo’s cheek. His breath nearly whooshes out when Theo’s head tilts ever-so-lightly, like he isn’t even aware of it. “Theo.”
Theo’s lips quiver as his eyes slowly work to focus on Liam, expression screwing up as Liam notices, for the first time, salty tracks trailing down his cheeks.
“Liam.” His voice is raspy, almost unrecognizable, and Liam can’t feel anything but numb when tears begin to gather at the corner of his eyes, “M’so cold. H-hurts.”
And if he were coherent, Theo would never be talking like this. Liam realizes this with a growing sense of alarm, before his wolf forces him to quiet his thoughts. He needs to be calm. For Theo.
Liam doesn’t bother shucking off his shoes, doesn’t spare a thought for his current state of dress. He climbs onto the bed unthinkingly, as Theo shivers and painstakingly leans into him, almost as though asking for more.
And Liam’s chest hurts, because though he might’ve wished, once in a while, that Theo would do the asking…this isn’t how he wanted it to be.
He presses himself close until he’s nearly chest-to-chest with his boyfriend, their breaths intermingling. Theo’s straining to get closer, so Liam throws an arm around him tugging him closer until there’s hardly any space left. Their legs tangle as Theo tries to tuck himself under Liam’s chin, and Liam instinctively knows Theo’s trying to get warm, chase away the cold. And, Liam’s all too willing to help him do that.
He presses his lips to the crown of Theo’s head, tightening his arm as his mate shakes in his arms. He doesn’t say anything, just focuses on guiding Theo’s shaky breathing with a hand rubbing down his back.
“I’m here.” The words leave his lips effortlessly. “Fuck, Theo, I’m—”
He cuts himself off, as tears spring into his eyes. He feels stupid for it, and just focuses on holding his chimera as close as possible. He lets go for a brief moment just to get the blankets on them, but Theo latches onto his sleeve, grip weak but unyielding.
Liam’s heart breaks at the whispered ‘please’; like Theo thinks he’s going to leave him here, and he doesn’t waste a moment, before he brushes a kiss to the older man’s cheek and whispers that I’m not leaving, never will.
He doesn’t know how long they stay like this, cocooned, but he doesn’t pull back, even when his back aches and his thighs shake from the effort of keeping still. He doesn’t pull back even when Theo finally stops shaking, only pressing his lips to Theo’s hair again.
“Liam?” Theo’s voice sounds tired, and almost unaware, “What’re you—”
He freezes abruptly, and tries to push away from Liam, but the younger wolf doesn’t let him.
“No.” Liam rumbles, and Theo freezes. “I’m not letting you go.”
He lets him pull away just slightly though, so they can look each other in the eye. Theo still looks pale, but his lip has healed, and the marks around his neck are almost completely gone. But to Liam, he looks perfect.
“I missed you.” Liam whispers uncertainly, and watches as a myriad of emotions flicker uncharacteristically over Theo’s face. “I’m sorry for not calling. Or texting.”
“It’s okay.” Theo smiles at him, but it’s fake, resigned. “I don’t really care.”
And it goes to show how off kilter Theo is, because his heart skips a beat and Liam knows it.
“Stop that.” Liam insists, presses his hands into Theo’s cheeks out of instinct more than anything else. “I know what you’re doing.”
“And what’s that?” Theo licks his lips, but Liam doesn’t find it appealing as he usually does.
“You’re pushing me away.” Liam says softly. “You’re locking yourself in.”
Theo stares at him for one heart-stopping moment, before something changes in his eyes, makes him duck his head.
“You don’t want me.” Theo whispers, drawing back. “It’s fine, I don’t care, but… stop this.”
“What?”
“All of this.” Theo scoots away, but winces and grips his chest. Liam’s hand instinctively flies to cover it, and they stay like that for a moment. “Stop pretending you care.”
“But I do.” Liam insists, moving closer so he can wrap his arms around Theo’s waist, nuzzle his tense jaw. “I know I didn’t text or call, but… it has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh yeah?” Theo’s voice sounds like it’s been shattered and badly pieced back together.
“It broke.” Liam admits, and Theo stiffens. Taking this as a bad sign, Liam hurries to explain. “Two of my teammates were arguing and my phone fell in the toilet and—”
“So there was nothing…” Theo breaks through his mini rant, slowly sitting up as Liam unconsciously copies him. “There was nothing wrong with me?”
“What?” Liam wishes he could take back the past week, just so he could’ve stopped this from happening. “No, never.”
“Oh.” Theo looks conflicted, and Liam can’t bear it.
“I love you.” He blurts out and it’s not the first time they’ve said it, but it’s still rare enough that Theo looks at him in shock. “Fuck, Theo, I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Theo shakes his head, and his eyes are blank again and no, he’s doing it again. “I was just being stupid.”
Liam growls at that, surprising them both with the ferocity of it.
“No.” He snaps. “You’re never stupid.”
A slow, hesitant smile blooms on Theo’s lips, and Liam doesn’t think, swooping down to peck them lightly, as though chasing away those thoughts.
“What happened to you, though?” He needs to know, needs to know who to tear apart. “Who hurt you?”
Theo looks like he wants to refute, but eventually seems to give up the idea, shoulders slumping.
“An Omega.” Theo admits, playing uncertainly with his fingers. “Wasn’t even that strong, but I—” His voice cracks here, and Liam takes his hand. “Something was wrong with me, I think.”
“I just told you—” Liam starts getting angry again, but Theo squeezes his hand tightly, cutting off his retort.
“No, literally, with my body.” Theo rasps, eyes drooping slightly as he speaks. Liam finds himself leaning slightly to support his weight. “I just… it was always cold. And everything always hurt. It felt like before I became supernatural, except with added…. benefits.”
Liam rolls his eyes at Theo’s wording, but it’s weak and they both know it.
“And they sent you after that Omega, by yourself.”
“He was supposed to be rogue, easy.” Theo confides. “But he was talking, functioning. Deceiving. I don’t know what happened—”
“Mason called me.” Derek’s voice suddenly sounds, and both Liam and Theo start. “He was near choking you to death by the time I got there.”
Theo looks around him, confused, like he’s just realized he’s in someone else’s bed. Liam decides to save him the effort, so asks, “What did you do to him?”
Liam hopes he crushed his windpipe or something.
“Took him out.” Derek says simply and, gesturing at Theo, adds, “And he passed out, so I brought him back here.”
“Do you know what was wrong with me?” Theo asks, eyes hard and jaw tense; Liam knows what he looks like when he’s putting up his final defenses and this is exactly it.
“You guys mated recently, right?” Derek asks, and with a hesitant look at his boyfriend, Liam nods tightly. “Yeah, thought so. It looks like withdrawal. Happens when a recently mated pair are apart.”
“Oh.” Theo says flatly. “Were you…?” He directs this at Liam, who shakes his head. He didn’t feel like that, but—
“I wasn’t angry, the entire week.” He confesses. “It was driving me crazy.”
“That happens.” Derek nods. “For a little while after the whole mating process, Weres generally fixate heavily on touch. It’s something to do with attachments, bonds—I don’t completely understand it, myself. But one always feels this chill, while another loses an integral part of themselves. It doesn’t sound pretty but—”
“It doesn’t matter.” Liam says firmly.
“I guess.” Theo mutters in agreement, and Liam doesn’t say anything when he covertly grips his hand tighter.
“Just make sure to stay near each other for the next few days.” Derek instructs, crossing his arms. “Unless you want this to happen again.”
“Trust me, we don’t.” Liam answers for the both of them.
“Good.” Derek surveys them briefly, before he turns. “You can leave whenever you’re ready.”
Liam doesn’t bother answering, knowing Derek’s aware that they’ve understood, and turns back to Theo.
“Ready to go home?” He asks, and Theo shrugs. Liam rolls off the bed, like he usually does, and waits for Theo to clamber off too. Theo’s eyes widen when he tries to stand, though, a low gasp of pain pulling from his lips as his knees buckle.
Liam doesn’t think, catching him on instinct and holding him close.
“Careful.” He whispers, and gets an annoyed fine in response.
“I hate this.” Theo adds, voice tight as they take careful steps outside, where Mason’s waiting for them.
“It’s okay.” Liam locks eyes with Theo’s vivid green, and smiles as reassuringly as possible. “You have me.”
And Theo just shakes his head with a tired, fond sigh, and presses minutely closer.
“I guess so.” He mumbles into Liam’s shoulder and, for now, this is enough.