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When Theo was woken up by something thudding against his truck, his first thought was, Oh shit, I'm in trouble. Either the cops wanted him to move, or somebody was trying to break in and rip him to shreds. Two very real possibilities that had him scrambling to sit up, bleary-eyed and messy-haired, squinting desperately in the 3AM darkness.
But Theo didn't find a cop glaring in at him, and he didn't see any potential murderers, either. No, what Theo found was a cat perched on the hood of his truck, peering through the windshield with big yellow eyes.
Just a cat. That's all.
Theo would've laughed if his heart wasn't still in his throat. The cat blinked at him, and Theo blinked back, curious. He waited for it to hop down and go on its way, but it just kept looking at him. Expectant, almost.
And Theo could've laid down and gone back to sleep. He could've, but he didn't. Because something compelled him to reach over and open the truck door. This was a stupid move, considering the last animal to visit him had quite literally burrowed under his skin. But Theo was lonely, and lonely people do stupid things all the time.
The cat disappeared from the hood of the truck and reappeared just outside the door, staring up at Theo from the ground. She was a ratty little thing, all matted fur and tattered ears, and Theo thought, Holy shit, this cat looks how I feel.
"C'mon," Theo urged, voice raspy from sleep. He expected her to run from him then, take off into the night and leave him to his frayed blanket and nightmares. Couldn't animals sense who was bad and who was good? Couldn't they smell wickedness?
The cat didn't run. She hopped into the truck and crept across the floor, crouching in the furthest, darkest corner. Her eyes bore into Theo like angry egg yolks.
She was still staring when he fell back asleep.
The next time Theo woke up, it was thanks to the sunlight seeping through the windows rather than some suspicious noise. He was surprised to find that the cat was still there, huddled on the floor of the truck, as raggedy-looking as ever.
"Thought I dreamed you," Theo mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. The cat just blinked at him, and all he really wanted was to reach out and pet her, coarse fur and fleas and all. But he figured his touch wouldn't be appreciated – wouldn't be soft enough, kind enough. So he just leaned over and opened the door.
"Go on," Theo said when the cat gave him a blank look. "I know you don't wanna be stuck in here with me."
The cat hesitated a moment longer before slipping out of the truck and disappearing like a small tabby ghost. Everything reminded Theo of ghosts these days.
He thought that would be the end of it. No more cats peering through his windshield. No more company. But lo and behold, the same visitor showed up the next night, and the next, and the next. It became a routine: the cat jumped on the hood, Theo opened the door, and they slept. They were both tired. They were both lonely.
On one night in particular, the cat curled up on the back seat next to Theo, who held his breath. He watched the gentle rise-and-fall of her silhouette, so peaceful despite everything, and wondered if she had nightmares, too.
Have you seen things? Done things?
Theo lifted a hand then, and, as if in slow motion, scratched behind one of her tattered ears.
Her fur was soft, and she purred.
A few weeks went by. Theo started buying cat food. He was broke, could barely afford to feed himself, but he had a new friend with obvious ribs, and he wouldn't stand for it. Lonely people, stupid decisions.
Then, one night, his new friend didn't show up. Theo was curled up on the back seat, too wracked with loneliness and worry to sleep. There was a pit in his stomach the size of the moon.
It's just a cat, he told himself, squeezing his eyes shut. Just a stupid cat.
Just a cat. That's all.
But it must've been more than that, because eventually Theo couldn't fucking take it anymore and climbed out of the truck. He started walking along the side of the road, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, peering into the darkness as he went. The longer he walked, the worse he felt. Like he was too late.
Then he smelled blood.
Theo started running. He chased down the scent like a shark, faster and faster, heart hammering in his chest, until he found her. Crumpled beside the road. Twisted and torn. Clogging Theo's senses with that horrible metallic smell.
"No," Theo croaked, dropping down next to her. "Nonono."
He reached out and touched her, and that's when she stirred, letting out a raspy mrrow? that sent relief slamming into Theo like the most wonderful freight train. He wasn't too late. He could still save her.
"It's okay," Theo whispered. Hot tears stung his eyes. "I'm here. It's okay."
Ripping off his hoodie, he bundled her up in it, wincing and mumbling apologies when she cried out in pain. Then Theo got to his feet and made a beeline back to his truck, climbing into the driver's seat with the swaddled cat clutched to his chest.
"It's okay," he repeated as he started the truck, the key shaking in his hand. "Just hang in there. I'm gonna take care of you."
Theo certainly didn't abide by any speed limits when he drove to Deaton's clinic, steering with one hand and holding the cat with the other. He didn't even know if Deaton would be there – it was well past midnight – but he had to try. God dammit, he had to try.
Deaton's car was still in the parking lot when Theo got there. But when he burst past the front door with the cat bundled up in his arms, it wasn't just Deaton he found. Liam was there, too – pack business, probably – and they both turned to look at him, startled.
"Theo?" Liam sputtered, but Theo looked straight at Deaton, eyes wild.
"I need your help," he pleaded, because pride wasn't important right now. "She... She's all messed up. Please."
"What happened?" Deaton asked, regaining his composure much quicker than Liam, who seemed to still be processing Theo's existence.
"I think she got hit by a car."
"She'll need an x-ray. Bring her here," Deaton instructed, moving towards the machine at the back of the room. Theo followed close behind, stomach twisted with fear that Liam could probably smell from a mile away, but he was too distracted to care.
"Lay her down," Deaton said, tapping the metal tabletop. "This shouldn't take long."
Being as gentle as a monster could manage, Theo laid the cat down on her side. She let out a low rumble of pain, eyes half-lidded and ears flat against her head, and Theo wanted to take it from her. All that pain, all that blood, all that carnage. So he reached out with a shaky hand and touched her shoulder. The pain crawled up his arm, sliding through his veins like oil, thick and black and nauseating. He thought of Gabe, dying under the flicker of fluorescent lights.
Please don't die. You're all I have.
Theo didn't even realize Liam was standing next to him until he finally drew back, dizzy from the effort. Liam's eyes searched his face, spellbound.
"What's her name?" he asked after a beat, voice soft. Theo swallowed.
"Tara."
Something flashed across Liam's face. If it was sympathy, Theo didn't deserve it.
"See this?" Deaton spoke up, gesturing to the scan that had appeared on the monitor. "She's got a broken rib. But it didn't puncture a lung, which is very fortunate. No internal bleeding."
"Can you fix it?" Theo asked, eyeing the scan nervously. Just looking at it made his ribcage ache.
"It'll heal on its own with time. Cats are very resilient creatures."
"She's in pain," Theo insisted, voice cracking with desperation. He couldn't help it. He felt powerless, and he hated it. He hated it so fucking much.
"I'll provide some pain medication," Deaton assured him. "It's important that she doesn't move around too much. I can keep her in one of our kennels for monitoring if you'd like."
The thought of leaving her alone just made Theo even more nervous. But he knew it was for the best, so he let out a breath and said, "Okay." And then, quieter, "How much–"
Deaton lifted a hand to silence him, eyes steady. "Free of charge."
Theo hesitated before giving a weak nod, embarrassment and relief both roiling in his gut at once. Deaton's face softened.
"Go home, Theo. Get some rest. I'll take good care of her."
And Theo could've said what home? but he wasn't thinking about himself. Not this time. He lingered beside Tara, a lump in his throat when he reached out to scratch her behind the ear.
"It's gonna be okay," Theo murmured, praying his touch provided some comfort, despite all the things his hands had done. "I promise."
He pulled away with the pained reluctance of somebody who was leaving the best part of them behind. He could feel Liam's eyes on him when he turned and left the clinic, the bell ringing like a taunt behind him.
Theo sat in his truck with his head in his hands, eyes screwed shut to hold in the tears. Tears of relief or tears of anxiety, he couldn't quite tell. He just felt like crying. He always felt like fucking crying.
A knock on the passenger side window made Theo jolt. It was Liam, peering in at him with those big, stupid, sincere eyes. Theo just stared at him as he opened the door and climbed into the truck, clumsy and a little nervous. Liam sat there a second before glancing over and asking, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Theo muttered, looking straight ahead. Liam shifted in the corner of his eye.
"I didn't know you were a cat person. I guess it makes sense."
Theo just kept looking forward, silent. Liam was quiet for a moment, too, glancing down at the hands in his lap. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. Thoughtful.
"When I was a kid I had this dog. My parents gave him to me as a reward for going to all my anger management classes and taking my meds and stuff. I named him Pickles."
And Theo almost said, Why are you telling me this? But he didn't. Mouth twitching, he looked over at Liam and said, "That's a stupid name."
Liam grinned at him. "I know."
"What happened to him?" Theo asked, and Liam shrugged, smile faltering as he looked back down at his hands. Theo wondered how scarred they would be without the supernatural healing.
"Cancer. He got all these tumors and stopped eating. I, uh... I miss him."
Theo blinked, something twisting in his chest. He wasn't used to comforting people, not in any real way, but he figured he had to try. So he just said, "I'm sorry."
Liam shrugged again. "It's okay. He was pretty old, and it was awhile ago, so... Y'know."
Theo nodded, wishing he could relate more. His short-lived childhood hadn't featured any beloved pets – his sister had been allergic to most animals. Theo remembered her begging for a dog anyway, day in and day out, crying every time their parents said no. Theo had felt so bad for her that he'd saved up to get her one of those stupid robot dogs for Christmas.
She'd hugged him.
"Can you do me a favor?" Theo asked out of nowhere, and Liam blinked at him, curious.
"Depends on the favor, I guess."
"Can you bring Tara home with you? She needs a safe place to heal, and I can't... I can't give that to her. Not right now." Theo felt like an open wound by that point, weepy and raw, but he pressed on. "She deserves better. So I'd really appreciate it if you looked after her."
Liam looked confused, eyebrows furrowing. Then he glanced back and saw the blanket and the clothes crumpled in the back seat, and Theo watched the pieces click together in his brain.
"You're living in your truck." A statement, not a question. Theo was too embarrassed to look at him.
"Yeah."
Liam took a second to process this, a million different emotions flitting across his face. Disbelief, anger, worry. And finally determination when he said, "Tell you what. I'll bring both of you home with me."
And Theo opened his mouth to argue, because that was crazy and way more than he deserved, but Liam cut him off.
"Just shut up and let me help you, dude."
So Theo shut up and looked out the windshield again, but his mind was reeling, around and around. Why help him, after everything?
Because Liam is kind. Liam is a good person. Liam is good.
"Hey Theo?"
Theo hesitated before turning his head to blink at him, one eyebrow raised.
"I don't think you're a bad person," Liam said, eyes painfully earnest. As if he'd cracked open Theo's brain and knew exactly how he saw himself.
Mongrel. Villain. Monster. Bad, bad, bad.
"Thanks," Theo murmured, breath catching in his throat, and Liam smiled at him. Good, good, good.
"No problem."