Chapter Text
Brett Talbot was an absolute pain in Liam’s ass ninety percent of the time, but he was damn sure reliable. Liam hardly needed to explain what he needed help with before he agreed to do whatever Liam asked for. Then again, when Theo was involved, Brett would never say no. He may bitch about it, but he would do anything short of killing a man if Theo asked. Liam hated that—it wasn’t like Theo would take advantage of that fact, but yet it still made him unsettled.
Liam never talked about it anymore, but losing Brett and Lori during the war monumentally fucked him up. He lived with that pain, that guilt, every day. He’d never forget how it felt when Gabe shot the arrow with the green and white number seven, a macabre trophy from killing Brett, into the police station. Even recalling the memory made his fist clench involuntarily.
He remembered arguing with Theo over Brett in the back room, Theo reading him so well even back then. That whole night was charged, the life or death circumstances amping every interaction up with fear and anger. If he could go back, he’d do things differently (though he wasn’t sure if he’d punch Theo again. In retrospect, it was fun to laugh about). He wished things that night didn’t end the way they did, that those two wolves, no matter what their crimes really were, didn’t end up dead. Like Brett. Like Lori.
Liam had to stand over their dead bodies in that intersection, eyes wide with anger, hate, and misery. He also stood with wide eyes when they walked through his back door again.
Liam had no idea how on earth they were even alive, but he was positive Theo had something to do with it. No one ever explained how they were brought back. Every time went to ask, the words died in his throat. Scott never got back anyone he wanted back. Why did Liam get to have his failure saved and not him? He’d heard all the stories—Allison, Erica, Boyd, Aiden. They deserved to come back like Brett and Lori did. Scott never said anything, but Liam knew every time he saw Brett and Lori, he thought of Allison.
Liam couldn’t help but feel guilty later, but in the moment? Nothing but pure relief.
It was only three weeks after the war, and things were still a complete mess. Guns were still being seized by the sheriff’s office, and murder charges were slowly being entered into the legal system. Liam and the other supernaturals still were avoided like the plague at school once it reopened, but Scott thought it was out of shame rather than disgust. Liam wasn’t sure which he preferred.
Scott and the others still tracked down Monroe and her followers with no avail, but for the first time since the battle, Liam felt like things had come back to the middle. Regression to the mean, as Scott would put it.
That all changed with a knock on his back door. Standing behind the glass pane was two very familiar outlines.
Liam shot up from his chair, his legs threatening to give out from under him. How was this possible? Was this some sort of wolfsbane induced hallucination? The cup in his hand dropped to the floor with a loud clang.
Standing in his kitchen doorway was a healthy, smiling Brett and Lori Talbot.
Without even bothering to see if he was being tricked, Liam surged to open the door and nearly tore it off its hinges by accident. His breath came in short, uneven puffs as he waited for his eyes to betray him, for their silhouettes to disappear in the afternoon breeze.
He tried to say something, anything, but words eluded him.
Brett tried (and failed) to repress a smirk at Liam’s eagerness, but his eyes told a different story. “Looks like you’re still a dumbass, Dunbar.”
Liam only managed unintelligible sounds as Brett and Lori stepped through the door frame. Swallowing whatever doubts he may have, Liam lifted a shaky hand and reached out for Brett. His smirk softened into a sad smile as Liam felt the heat of Brett’s skin underneath his fingertips.
Air seemed intangible. They were real. They were here. “You…how…”
Lori managed a chuckle and wrapped her brother and Liam into a hug. Liam’s arms circled their waist, holding on to them for dear life. Brett’s skin was warm, radiating life. Lori’s thin blond hair, clean of blood and grime like that last time he saw her, tangled up in Liam’s hand, but he didn’t care. After imagining what he’d say to the both of them if he got the chance, he remained speechless.
Liam desperately wanted to say so many things. I’m sorry I failed you, I never forgot what happened, I’m sorry, I’m sorry for dragging the both of you into my mess, I’m sorry for everything, I wish it had happened differently. He said none of them.
His other hand clenched around the supple fabric of Brett’s tee shirt. Liam relished the way Brett’s lungs filled with air, no longer labored with an underlying wince like last time. They were alive. That was all that mattered.
And that was why he never asked how that happened, partly because if he asked, Liam was half afraid that whatever miracle brought them here would take them away again. Like speaking about it would rip the dream away from him. So, he didn’t. They never tried to explain themselves, and no one ever offered an explanation.
The weird part wasn’t that they were back—that was something he promised himself he’d never take advantage of ever again—the weird part was how attached to Theo they were. It could be unsettling at times. Liam had no idea how they met, but the acted like they were lifelong friends. Whenever standing in the same room, Brett would subconsciously drift until he stood at Theo’s side. The two seemed to gravitate towards the other, no matter the situation. At any group hang out, if one was there, the other wasn’t too far. Even Scott and the others noticed.
Scott pulled him aside one afternoon and asked, why are Brett and Theo attached to the hip?
Liam was dreading that question. Ever since Stiles got this specific look on his face at dinner the night before, he knew it was inevitable. Not sure. I’d ask, but do you really think that either of them would give a straight answer?
Scott shook his head. Tell me about it. Dealing with Theo’s attitude is painful enough but with Brett? Even asking a basic question is like begging to get sassed.
Didn’t Liam know it. If putting up with Theo alone was a nightmare, both him and Brett’s jackass solidarity was hellish. Like, I’m glad Theo made a friend besides me, but their friendship is gonna make me go insane. Brett and Theo are insufferable on their own, much less put together.
Stiles is going mad theorizing how they got so close, but he’s coming up empty, you wouldn’t know anything, would you?
Liam didn’t like Scott’s accusatory tone there. Just because Theo hates me the least doesn’t mean he tells me everything.
Scott raised an eyebrow. Why do you two still hang out? Brett, I get, but Theo?
Theo may be…complicated but he’s not that, that bad. At least when you, Stiles, or Malia aren’t around. He’s less of a dick when he’s alone or with Brett.
You hang out with Theo alone?
Liam despised how he was so quick to defend Theo. He should hate the guy—he was a killer. But…he also saved his life more times than he’d care to admit. Liam knew deep down, no matter how far he pushed down the memory of that night at the hospital, Theo took a bullet for him. Theo Raeken, the most self-serving bastard he knew, put Liam’s life above his own. It bothered him to no end that Theo kept finding a way to stay on his mind; it bothered him that he couldn’t see things as black and white as Scott and Stiles did.
No matter how easy Stiles made it look, it wasn’t like he could cut Theo out completely. Brett coming back meant that he and Theo were a package deal, so Theo would never be out of his life as long as he kept Brett. And after losing him and Lori the way he did, that was never going to happen.
So, Theo was a permeant fixture of his day to day life via Brett. He was still undecided how he felt about that. But having Theo around meant inviting him to game night. Mason couldn’t fathom why Liam cared about not hurting his feelings by leaving him out, but he just did. He felt like an asshole for some reason, and Liam knew he had no problem being a jerk.
Game night used to be a normal event; it was something he, Hayden, Mason and Corey did when things weren’t apeshit in the supernatural world. Game night used to be simple, easy even. A few rounds of Uno here, a round of cards there, and an hour of monopoly before Liam flipped the board over. Then Theo joined. Later in the year when Liam would get that life-altering poker set, he would understand that him joining game night was only a preface to Theo’s title of reigning card game champion. But back then? They were fools, still ignorant to Theo’s unmatchable skills.
And to think Liam tried to protect him from embarrassment. He, foolishly, thought that Theo may have never had a game night, at least not in ten years. He didn’t want a repeat of the oh so awkward ‘Theo should pick a movie’ incident. So, he thought he’d let Theo wave him off and watch them play around before he joined. In hindsight, Theo’s smirk really should have the first indicator that death was imminent.
Brett, since it was his first game night, got to choose the game. He picked Clue. Liam was thankful at the time because Clue was a pretty easy game to learn and play even for newbies like Theo. They spread out the board and different pieces—Liam loved Miss Scarlet, okay? He would not be judged for that. Professor Plum was reserved Mason and Corey (something about him being a gay icon? Liam didn’t get it but didn’t argue). Brett took Miss Peacock because “screw your preconceived gender notions” (his words, not Liam’s), while Theo, albeit dutifully, settled for Mr. Green.
Liam went to explain the rules, but Theo shrugged him off, claiming he knew. Liam arched a brow but didn’t contest while he shuffled the different decks. Liam, before Theo and Brett arrived at his house, asked Corey and Mason to go easy on Theo, given that he was probably years out of practice. This, as Liam now knew, would unceremoniously backfire on him.
By the end of the game, not even twenty minutes in because Theo was some sort of prediction god, Liam’s mouth perpetually hung wide open. Theo, who was kind of awkwardly shy post-war now that he wasn’t a part-time serial killer, suddenly oozed confidence and radiated charm as he asked a handful of pointed questions at the appropriate times. His lips—why was Liam always looking at his mouth again?—curled into a smirk that promised danger as he announced he had the answer.
They, at the time, had scoffed and laughed at the notion Theo could possibly have the answer already. Each time they entertained the idea he was right, he proved them wrong each and every time. Liam couldn’t help but be amazed. They checked to see if he was cheating like they would do later with the poker incident, but he would simply smile with ease and say why would I cheat when I’m just that good?
He was a little melodramatic, but then again, that was just Theo. Everything was a performance to him, keeping up a cool and collected front to hide how terrified he was. This was something Liam kept in the back of his mind each time they hosted game night. It was why he never pushed the poker incident so hard later down the line.
Theo didn’t always show off though. He was frustratingly less confident whenever the older ones joined in, given they were all back in town.
Liam was plenty used to curbing his desire to break things when he was paired with Theo, but not for the reasons Scott and Stiles might think. Imagine being on a trivia team with Steven Hawking and watch him purposely let someone answer before him. Theo, for all his faults, was really smart (just take the Bio situation for example. Theo could take his AP test blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back and still get a perfect score of five). He was incredible talented, but would never, ever show just how smart he really was. It was like Theo wanted the others to underestimate him. Mason, Corey, Nolan, Brett, and Lori knew better of course, but it was some unspoken rule: no one talk about how Theo was great at any task you give him unless Scott and Stiles were around.
Again, Liam had two thoughts on the matter. One: Theo should feel like he’s allowed to show off in front of the older members. There was no reason he should hold himself back for the sake of their egos. Two: why the fuck did he care so much that the rest of the pack saw how talented Theo was? Sure, Liam felt responsible for the guy, he did bring him back from the dead after all, but making sure he didn’t hurt anybody and making sure he had fun at game night were not under the same umbrella. Even Mason was starting to wonder why his thoughts seemed to solely consist of Theo, Theo, Theo.
Liam, as per usual, ignored that and tried to go about life not thinking of Theo. Liam, as per usual, failed.
Liam worried at his lower lips, desperately trying to cast out any though of Theo, which was impossible with him on the other side of board. Why Liam entertained Theo at a game of Battleship was beyond him. Liam was well aware his defeat was inevitable, but when he challenged him, like he could say no. With only one ship remaining and only three hits on Theo, Liam knew it was only a matter of rounds before he cried mercy. It wouldn’t help his odds of winning, but maybe his loss wouldn’t be so pathetic if he could concentrate on something other than Theo.
Theo this, Theo that. Why did everything in his life go back to him? And why did it bother him so much, yet he couldn’t find it in him to do anything about it? Everything about Theo Raeken should make his blood boil, but the anger that used to simmer under his skin when the chimera came up was long gone. Stiles once asked how often he punched Theo, and it struck him that the two of the hadn’t exchanged a broken nose in a while. The urge to punch something—usually the nearest wall—always seemed to dissipate when Theo was around, and he wasn’t ready to analyze that quite yet.
Liam couldn’t understand how he could hate someone that he never wanted to leave. God, the thought of Theo running far, far away from this town made his eye twitch. In his head, it would make sense for Theo to get the hell out of dodge, but Liam was ninety percent sure he’d lose it if he up and left. Why, why, why? Why did everything come back to Theo Raeken?
“What you thinking about so hard over there, little wolf?”
Another thing. The nicknames. If someone besides Theo called him that, Liam knew deep down that his reaction would be none too pleasant. For some reason, it made him feel special. Even knowing that about himself made Liam want to rip out his own hair. Theo, Theo, Theo.
“Just on how to make my comeback. I would prepare yourself.”
He just snorted. “Do your worst. B3.”
B3 sat smack dab, right in the middle of his last ship.
“I hate you.”
“I know.”
His inability to think about something other than Theo only got worse from then on out. Between the game night, poker, him moving in, Theo was a constant section of his thought process. Whether it was worrying about him when he was at school, or swinging by the animal clinic to see him during his shift, Theo remained an all-consuming thought of his.
Things changed when the list started. At least then he had an excuse to think about him all the time. He was worried for the guy. Sue him for being a decent person. The only person that didn’t give him shit about his odd relationship with Theo was Brett. In fact, Brett actually thanked him for keeping Theo around.
Theo says he lives at your place now. I know he can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but…thank you. You didn’t have to, but you did. Means a lot, Dunbar.
Liam did his best to keep from gaping. Brett wasn’t one for apologies. He pretty much lived here before, but now it’s official and all. I’m just glad he’s not sleeping in his truck anymore. I’m sure all the deputies are happy about it too now that they do have to keep making him move his truck every night.
I could give less of a shit about those dicks, what I care about is Theo’s safety.
At the time, Liam didn’t get why it meant so much to Brett. Six months later, he did.
Theo was at work that fateful afternoon, and since Mason and Corey were out on a date while Nolan was MIA, probably lost in pile of homework, only Brett was able to come over for a round of GTA. It was a miracle Lori even let him out of the house—Brett had three piles of unfolded laundry and a sink full of dirty dishes, but since it was Friday, and he was finally off of work, she gave him a pass. If she wasn’t working a double shift that night, Liam had no doubt she’d come and kick both of their asses on the PlayStation. She wasn’t Theo or Nolan level good, but she used her wolf advantages far better than the two of them did.
Before they could even turn on the TV, Brett paused at the bookshelf by the basement door. He picked up the black picture frame and quarter turned to face Liam.
“Is this…?” Brett asked, pointing to the smiling photo of Liam and Theo sitting at the Dunbar dining table. Neither of them were looking at the camera, both of them mid-laugh at something silly Liam said, uneaten cake sitting on flimsy plastic plates by their hands.
Liam stuck a hand in his hair, giving a half laugh. “From the six months party? Yeah, my mom took it when we weren’t paying attention and got it framed as a way to commemorate the day. She’s been obsessed with making sure there is photos of Theo around the house ever since she realized there were none. She’ll take any opportunity to get more photos to frame.”
Theo even had a spot on his mantle, his print-out diploma from online high school right behind a photo of Theo smiling out of the corner of his mouth next to Liam’s dad, both of them covered in grease from working on Theo’s truck. Liam would never forget the look on Theo’s face when he saw the mantle. He’d never admit it, but that photo above the fireplace meant more to Theo than his truck did. Liam thought his mom was being ridiculous every time she made them pose together, but Theo’s small smile when he would pass the two of them, forever immortalized by a Pier One Imports picture frame made every awkward impromptu photoshoot worth it.
Brett went quiet, staring at picture with a small smile. After a few beats of silence, “He deserves this, you know. More than anyone.”
Brett met his eyes, some unknown emotion swimming around his irises in the low light of Liam's basement. “Thank you. For giving this to him.”
“Well, Theo’s family. Conventional family or not, everyone in the Dunbar house gets awful photos of themselves framed and obnoxiously displayed all over the house. It’s practically tradition.”
Brett tisked. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
A lump of emotion seemed to settle in the middle of Liam’s throat. “Oh. I mean, yeah. Theo’s been through more than any teenager should. He deserves a little normalcy.”
Brett hummed lowly, setting the picture frame back in its original place. “You can’t ever repeat this, but living in a real home, sleeping in a bed, being able to have adults who support you in life and do things like harass you for photos to put above the fireplace, this is the kinda shit that matters. After the fire, having a safe place to sleep was the dream. Lori and I got lucky, real lucky. At least we were old enough to take care of ourselves. Theo was eight when they came for him. After spending a decade going to sleep thinking it could be his last…he deserves this. Don’t give up on him, okay? Even if he gives up on himself, you can’t. Can you promise me that?”
The intensity in his voice made Liam stand up a little straighter. Theo was failed by life. Liam wouldn’t fail him too. “I promise.”
Brett would never give up on Theo, not ever. Whatever bonded them, it was stronger than any steel. That was why Liam could always count of him for help when it came to him.
Brett agreed to join Liam's little crusade to de-vilify Theo from the older pack's mind. Brett, once he dropped the sarcasm, suggested that the bomb in the liver incident go after the poker incident for his list for his power point. And, yeah that made sense. The reason why Theo was so good at poker wasn’t that depressing, but the next bullet point, thanks to Brett, would hit harder if their expectations on the sympathy meter started low. At least, Liam thought it would.
The story in itself wasn’t that sad. Theo wasn’t even mad about how he got so good at poker—that early morning making pancakes with him while he calmly explained his poker expertise was a good memory of Liam’s. One he cherished, but wasn’t sure he was ready to share it with the others.
I actually had to train in card games. The sunlight peeking through the windows made Theo's hair seem lighter, giving it a sun-kissed glow. A stray curl hung down his forehead as he leaved over the kitchen counter, a traitor to his ridiculous amount of hair gel.
That surprised Liam. Oh, really?
He dipped is head in acknowledgement, stirring his pancake batter again. I was expected to learn strategy and how to read body language. I was fourteen, I think. My years blur together a little bit, but I must have watched hundreds of hours of poker tournaments. I learned how to lie when I was younger, but analyzing strategy was much harder. I was handed a board game and expected to pick the game apart, figuring out the most efficient way to win without cheating.
Huh. Not what I would have guessed.
It was almost enjoyable at times. Card games, even card tricks, helped me get better at reading people and how to make them see what you wanna see. You can be the best liar out there, but if you can’t tell if someone’s pulling a trick on you, it’s worthless.
Theo tensed, suddenly quiet, now stirring with his spatula almost absentmindedly. You would think after all that training, I would’ve realized…
Liam could fill in the blanks. Deucalion’s double cross. Theo was supposed to be the ultimate strategist, but his downfall was not other’s blindness, but his own inability to see the truth. His failure still haunted him, even after almost year. Liam wished the past would let him go.
You should’ve seen the look on my face though, Theo changed the subject, not even attempting subtlety. When the Geneticist called me in from the examination room, I thought I was in serious trouble that time. l had definitely forgotten to clean the lab after working on some chemical compounds, and I was sure I was gonna get electrocuted again.
Theo laughed like it was funny or something, and it made Liam uncharacteristically want to give him a hug. I’m totally ready to get chewed out when they drop a bunch of board games I haven’t seen since I was eight on the lab table. It took all of my self-preservation not to die of laughter when they demanded I train with them. I even got an old iPod to watch poker analysis videos on, so that was a plus.
Funny how he thought that was a plus side. So, that’s what you did in your free time?
Theo snorted. Like I had free time. No, that was one of my assignments to complete or else. At least it wasn’t fucking Art of War or anything like that again. If I see that book, I’m burning it. The games and cards were a welcome reprieve. Sure, it was used for nefarious purposes, but hey. I could’ve learned in worse ways.
Liam did not have the brain power to put half of that in context. So that’s why you slaughter us at poker? Because you trained to read people in the most backwards way possible?
Theo managed a small smile, like they weren’t talking about his horrid childhood. It comes in handy more than you’d think. Maybe you should try it sometimes. Maybe then you’d last a few extra rounds rather than folding all the time.
There was no heat in his words, just his usual play-fighting, almost teasing tone. Liam flicked pancake batter at him, a little speck landing on his forehead and cheek.
I hate you.
I know.