Archive of Our Own

Maybe it’s because it’s a permanent reminder on his body. Maybe it’s because on a body with only forever-faded, invisible scars, with only blemish-free skin that holds no lasting evidence of the disfigurement it’s faced, a tattoo is the only thing that stays.  

Maybe that’s the reason Theo finds himself staring at the closed glass door of the small parlor—the only one within an hour of Beacon Hills that takes supernatural clients—on a Thursday afternoon through the windshield of his truck. His hands tighten around the wheel for a moment, fingers whitening slightly before he exhales sharply and lets go of the steering wheel. Kills the engine before he can think about it any longer and slides out of the driver’s seat, movements smooth and practiced. Roughly shoves every thought out of his mind as he pulls the door to the tattoo parlor open. 

The person at the front desk looks up, surprise flashing through her eyes as she glances him up and down for a quick second. She pulls her long tied-up hair over one shoulder as her lips stretch into a faint smirk. “Thought you said you didn’t want one, Raeken.”

Theo loosens his body, an air of forced nonchalance coming through as he shrugs one shoulder, eyes darting to one of the many tattoos littering Divya’s arms. Permanent lines etched into skin. “Changed my mind,” he says, voice a little hollow as he moves his gaze back up to Divya’s face. “Your offer still on the table?”

“Yeah,” she answers after a couple of beats, eyes roaming over Theo’s face. Studying, maybe, but Theo stares right back without backing down, brow lifting a little. “A little saving-my-life discount,” Divya states as amusement crosses her face, and Theo lets a small smile tug at the corner of his mouth at the words. 

“Don’t think that rabid dog would’ve actually killed you,” he teases slightly as he follows Divya into the back, sitting in the chair she nods to. His eyes land on the sanitized tools on the table next to him and for one long, grueling moment, the leather seat under him turns to cold metal, his hands strapped tight to his sides, electricity buzzing in the room as the familiar copper scent of blood hangs heavy in the air. But then Theo blinks and the dim lights brighten, his chair soft leather again, and the low hum of electricity replaced by Divya’s light voice. 

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t get the chance to find out,” she voices airily as she pulls on a pair of plastic gloves and turns towards him. “You know what you want or do I have to sit here for an hour listening to you go back and forth between ideas?”

Theo snorts, only hesitates for a split-second. “Yeah,” he replies, fingers flexing unconsciously as his mind flickers back to his apartment, lying awake alone in the dead of night—heart pounding against his ribs, claws itching to sink into his palms, breath ragged and unsteady after the latest cycle of shadow-sister and bloodied chest—and letting his mind wander to what permanent reminder he thinks he’d want imprinted on his skin forever. He fishes out his phone from his jeans, pulls up the picture he’d screenshotted the night before and twists it towards Divya. “Got any sketches of this?”

Divya hums, leaning forward as she examines the picture. “You like this one?”

Theo’s eyes flit to his phone, and he lets out a short breath. “Yeah,” he says, doesn’t know what about this specific picture had caught his eye when he’d spent far too much time scouring the internet for ideas, but it did. Feels fitting, somehow, after everything. Almost like a brand, of sorts.

“Where?”

This time Theo does hesitate, and Divya seems to pick up on it, settles back into her chair as her expression turns contemplative. 

“Well, first thing is, do you want it somewhere that everyone can see it, or no?” she asks, and Theo’s shaking his head before she even fully finishes the question. Permanent reminder or not, he doesn’t want everyone asking him about it, and he knows they would. Wants it to be something for himself, though he knows that they’ll see it eventually. 

Divya’s eyes drift up from his arms. “Ches—”

“No.” His voice is curt and almost a little cold and Divya looks taken aback for a second. Theo drops his tense shoulders and leans back in his chair, voice a lot less tight when he speaks again. “Not the chest.” He forces aside all the memories creeping up rapidly in his head and lets a smirk tilt his lips slightly. “And besides, that’s a little too cheesy.”

His words have the effect he wants, Divya letting out a soft snort as the tension in the small room dissipates easily. “Maybe, but you seem like you could be the cheesy type. You know, underneath that cold, mysterious thing you got going for you.” 

Theo flips her off casually and she lets out a short laugh before her gaze suddenly snaps to his neck, and she sits up straighter. “Wait, what about the back of your neck? Low enough under your neckline that it’s not visible.”

He tenses before he can control it, but relaxes just as fast, before Divya can notice. Memories resurface, burning cold fingers of one hand curving around his neck and extending down as the other carves into his chest. One hand holding him in place—though he’d stopped trying to escape after the two hundred and fifty-ninth cycle, resigning him to the inevitable, realizing that this is an eternity sort of punishment—as the other takes back what isn’t his, dark red pooling onto the tiled hospital floor under him. Fingers on the back of his neck pressing harder into his skin for just a second before letting go. Almost like a brand.

“Yeah,” he manages to squeeze past the lump in his throat, and if Divya notices that his voice is a little hoarse, she doesn’t mention it. “That’s good.”

Time blurs a little after that, Divya telling him to take off his shirt and lay flat on his stomach as she lowers the chair into a flat bench. She puts her feet flat on the floor and rolls her chair closer to him, tools clinking together when she grabs something off the table. 

And Theo knows that the process for supernatural tattoos is a little different, knows that the Samoan origin of “open wound” is pretty literal for them when it comes to getting something this permanent on their skin. 

(He’d thought about the etymology a lot more than he wishes he did when he’d stared up at the ceiling the night before, the significance of it all cutting deep into him, reaching inside and lodging itself right next to his heart. Pressing against his ribcage as his heart thumps unsteadily, barely-extended claw tips pricking the soft skin of his palm. 

Open wound because it’s the only thing that Theo could have that’s even close to a wound on his body. Open wound because of what he’d decided to get. Open wound because on some nights he still wakes up feeling the rotting chill lingering in the air, wakes up with the feeling of blunt fingernails digging through skin and ligaments, wakes up with the feeling of a gaping open wound in his chest that he can’t heal. 

And at least now his open wound would be a physical thing, rather than something just in his head.)

So he expects the heat that grazes his skin, keeps a tight grasp on his body and forcefully lets it sink into the leather chair turned bench as Divya switches off between the needle and the fire, the resulting pain just a distant thrum in Theo’s body. A hundred times less brutal than cold, unyielding scalpels pulling open his skin, than the excruciating burn of mountain ash lining his insides, than the endless breaking of his bones as he full-shifted over and over again, than the failure feral chimera’s pointed teeth sinking viciously into the back of his neck. 

He’s not sure exactly how long it takes, but then Theo’s mind suddenly tunes back into the room again to feel Divya cleaning up the skin near the tattoo and applying the bandage. 

“Your healing should fix up the area around it pretty quickly,” she notes as she pulls back and lets him sit up. “You can probably take the bandage off in a few hours.” Her expression sours for a second, a mock-scowl on her face as she turns back around to Theo. “Fucking supernaturals with your instant healing.”

Theo knows she’s talking about tattoos, knows she means the extensive process she has to go through to care for one after, a process that he won’t need to do, but the words still slash at his chest a little, a dull ache settling. The ephemerality of anything and everything on his skin—besides the one thing he has now—a heavy stone in his stomach. The scars he’ll never see, though still remembers. “S’not always all it’s cracked up to be,” he declares, ignores Divya’s bewildered expression as he twists his head around to look at his reflection in the mirror behind him. 

The small, black anatomical heart sits right under the back of his neck and a little above his upper back, just low enough that he knows a shirt would cover it. Theo swallows thickly, blinks and can almost see the ghost of pale, cold fingers resting on top of it, blinks again and can almost see puncture marks from jagged fangs, blinks one more time and sees just the tattoo. Forever marked on his otherwise bare skin, lines of black engraved that just barely start to make up for all the things that won’t stay engraved. 

“Is it what you pictured?” Divya asks and Theo catches himself right before he jumps at the sudden question, giving her a nod as his eyes drift back to the tattoo. 

“Yeah,” he nearly croaks out, clears his throat quietly. “Yeah, thanks.”

Divya studies him for a few moments, is still watching him after he finishes pulling his shirt back on. It leaves him a little unnerved, even though he knows that she doesn’t really know what he’d been thinking. What memories he’d been reliving. 

“I know I’m human and everything and don’t understand all the shit that comes with being supernatural,” she starts, her voice slightly more subdued than it had been before, “But my boyfriend isn’t. So if you’re ever in the market for more friends…”

“I have friends.” His words sound a little too rushed, even to him. Like he’s clinging onto something, desperately. Someone, maybe. 

“Never said you didn’t.” Divya’s lips thin out into a wry grin, and Theo bites the inside of his cheek to tamp down on the urge to bolt out of the parlor like a small part of his mind is telling him to. “I said more, dumbass.”

Theo exhales slowly and rolls his eyes, not responding to Divya’s unsaid question out loud, but he hopes that she understands it anyway, somehow. “Well,” he begins, standing up and making his way to the closed door, “guess I’ll see you if you’re ever being attacked by a rabid dog around Beacon Hills again.”

Divya snorts at the quip, following him out of the room and to the front of the parlor. “Guess you will,” she retorts, but she calls out his name right before Theo pushes the front door open and he pauses with his hand on the glass. “If you ever want another, door’s always open.”

Theo falters, but regains his grip on his thoughts quickly. “I’ll think about it,” he answers, a small smirk on his lips, before turning back around and stepping out. 

It’s not until he’s in his truck and already halfway back to his apartment that he shudders almost violently, one hand pulling off the wheel and reaching behind him. Over his shoulder and slipping under the neckline of his shirt to lightly graze the plastic wrap covering his tattoo, the lines that he can’t see at the moment still burned into his mind. A permanent reminder. 

A forever-staying scar. 

---

Theo jolts awake, a desperate you don’t have to stop stuck in the back of his throat. He takes a shaky inhale, trying to regain his senses, blinks a few times and focuses on the window opposite his bed, muted stream of light filtering through the closed blinds.  

His body still seems to be in between this world and the one under, shivering despite how warm his room is at the moment, heart beating furiously in his chest, a threatening thudding against his ribs. Theo thinks he still feels fingertips digging into the back of his neck and he sits up quickly, hand reaching back and pressing the small ink heart. Rubs the pads of his fingers over it a few times as he squeezes his eyes shut, an indication that he’s not there, not trapped between two relentless hands holding him in place, not seconds away from his transient, perpetual funeral. 

His next breath is at least slightly steadier than it was moments ago, and Theo finally lets his eyes open again as he reaches for his phone from next to his pillow. 

5:26 glares up at him from the too-bright screen, and Theo sighs, deciding that going back to sleep now would be pointless. Would be nothing but an inevitable invitation for another ripped-out heart. He doesn’t bother turning on any of the lights in the room, just stumbles into the bathroom with gold eyes flared, leaning heavily against the sink when he gets there as he screws his eyes shut tight and focuses in on his heartbeat. Grapples with it for a couple of long moments before finally wrestling it under control, ignoring the way it feels a little too accustomed, a little too practiced. 

(Theo’s come to realize that it’s either figure it out fast or face the drastic consequences when it comes to the Doctors, and so when they’d told—ordered—him to learn how to control his pulse two days after his eleventh birthday had passed, he’d expected the time limit hanging on the heels of their demand. Had expected the unsaid threat if he didn’t comply. 

Needless to say, when a full week has passed and Theo’s heart still treacherously stutters with every lie that leaves his lips, he’s not surprised when the Doctors strap him down. Not surprised, but he still can’t stop the quiet whimper that leaves his lips when the first scalpel touches his skin, cold metal slicing into his stomach without even a grain of mercy. 

In the end, the method is quite effective—just like every single one of the Doctors’ unorthodox techniques—every new slather of mountain ash coating the inside of his body an all-consuming burn that forces Theo to grip the reins of his control tighter. His mind overwhelmed with the searing effects that he can’t filter out, words painfully leaving his throat as the tiny part of his brain not dominated by the torment forces him to answer the Doctors’ questions with solely lies. 

His claws are so deep in his own palms that he barely feels them anymore, the blood covering his clenched hands almost a familiar feeling as he grits his teeth until he thinks they’re about to crack and fights against the little ticks in his pulse. A sudden wave of mind-numbing anguish crashes into him, makes his body writhe and tremble as another scalpel of mountain ash lines his gut, and Theo almost fully lets go, almost gives into the scream building at the base of his throat, almost lets himself surrender to the torture. 

But then another question buzzes around him, another lie pushes past his cracked lips, another burst of pain flares in his body, another heap of mountain ash is deposited inside of him, and on and on it goes. On and on in a never-ending cycle until Theo’s seconds away from conceding to the lightheaded feeling, until the flickering lights above him start to fade out as black creeps into the corners of his vision, until the barely audible untruth that Theo manages to utter hangs heavily in the air. Until his weary, stolen heart finally doesn’t skip a beat. 

It takes Theo a full three days to recover after that, but just a week later, he finds himself strapped back down onto the cold lab table, completely awake and conscious as the black powder is once again applied inside him after Theo had somehow easily managed to cross a mountain ash barrier the Doctors had trapped him in that morning. 

Turns out that the only price Theo has to pay for immunity is one day of excruciating torture and three dawn to dusk days of just as agonizing experiments on his miracle of a body.)

It’s only a couple of hours later that Liam texts him—and Theo’s wolf perks up at that in both confusion and a little concern, at the beta being awake this early on a Saturday—asking Theo, though it’s more of a blunt statement, if he could give him a ride to the lacrosse field. 

Liam’s early text makes a little more sense when Theo pulls up to the front of his house and finds the beta sitting on the curb with his backpack next to him, a thick cloud of emotions swirling dangerously around him. Theo stays quiet as Liam tosses his backpack into the backseat—and Theo’s starting to put together why Liam had asked him for a ride when he realizes that there’s no lacrosse gear anywhere to be found—and slides into the passenger seat, knows that on the days Liam gets like this, pushing him will only make it a hundred times worse. 

They’re both silent on the way to the field, and Theo stamps down on the urge to reach behind him and touch his tattoo, knows that it would be all too obvious to the beta. Tightens his grip on the wheel instead, but even that seems to be too much of a movement when Liam’s eyes snap to his hands before pulling away. 

Liam doesn’t say anything, although his scent mellows for just a second. But then Theo loosens his body and tamps down on all his chemosignals and the beta tenses again, scent growing sharp and hot as Theo pulls into the parking lot near the lacrosse field. 

Theo knows what’s coming, hasn’t even taken more than three steps onto the dry grass of the field before he hears the whoosh of Liam’s fist, pivots on his back foot to dodge the punch. 

“No warming up, huh?” he asks with a sly smile, the first words either of them have spoken to each other today, but it only seems to aggravate Liam further when he’s this worked up—and Theo doesn’t even know why, but recognizes that talking this out isn’t gonna work at the moment—and Theo just barely avoids a jab to his left side. 

After that it’s all restrained hits and attempted tackles and circling around with tilted heads and taunting smirks and pained groans when one of them actually manages to land a blow on the other. Theo’s not even sure how long it goes on for, loses himself in the rhythm of their spar, ignores the way it feels natural and absurdly calming. Ignores the way Liam’s chemosignals aren’t as blaringly loud in their rage and simmering frustration anymore. 

But the split-second that he falters when Liam’s nails graze the skin of his hip as the beta loops around him proves to be crucial. Proves to be a fatal misstep when Liam’s arm wraps around his neck, the crook of his elbow pressing against Theo’s throat as Liam moves so quickly that Theo’s mind short-circuits for a moment. 

Liam’s other hand comes up to push the back of the arm around Theo’s neck backwards, the already tight space narrowing around Theo. And Theo inherently knows that Liam’s not actually trying to choke him out, only trying to force him to surrender, can feel that the beta isn’t using all his strength, but his hands still fly up to claw at the beta’s arm anyway. Tries to viciously shove down the memory of the last time someone had him in a chokehold like this. 

Theo’s just about to lose the battle he’s warring inside of him when Liam freezes, his hold on Theo loosening abruptly. He hears the spike in the beta’s pulse, smells the odd flare of confusion and sorrow as Liam’s breath leaves his lips in a ragged sigh, one that Theo feels on the back of his neck. 

The back of his neck.

Theo freezes this time, suddenly knows exactly what made Liam stop. 

“When did you get a tattoo?” Liam pants out from behind him, his arm still holding Theo in place even though it’s no longer cutting off his airway. Theo swallows, thinks that maybe Liam can hear it with the way the beta moves his other hand off and brings it back, one finger just barely grazing the neckline of Theo’s shirt. 

Theo’s inhale feels deafening on the vast, empty field when Liam hooks his finger under his shirt and pulls it down, just enough that a gentle breeze hits the skin that Theo knows is marked with black ink. 

“Jesus,” Liam breathes out and Theo holds back a shudder when the end of Liam’s finger brushes the top of the heart. The arm around his throat slides down a little, the beta’s palm coming to a rest on Theo’s clavicle, fingers curving down over his shoulder. The significance of the tattoo doesn’t seem to evade Liam, and Theo can’t stop the rushed breath that leaves his lips when Liam lifts his finger and uses the blunt edge of his nail to trace the ink instead. 

“Liam—”

Theo breaks off when Liam squeezes his shoulder lightly, his nail still trailing over the tattoo, and Theo thinks that he can break out of the beta’s hold now, but something in him keeps him right there in front of Liam. Keeps him motionless with Liam’s chest still a solid line against his back as Liam continues the lightweight touch. 

“It’s pretty,” Liam says, voice a little too hoarse to be normal, and Theo feels it shoot down his spine, a shiver running through his body at all the sensations hitting him. Liam’s delicate tattoo-tracing, Liam’s soft breath on his neck, Liam’s steady heartbeat thudding against his back, Liam’s palm rubbing his clavicle gently. “I like it.”

And Theo thinks it’s been far too long for Liam to still be mapping out the black ink, knows that he’s circled back around and started over, but he doesn’t do anything to stop him. Closes his eyes and tries not to let his chemosignals betray how affected he is. 

“Thanks,” Theo lets out in a rough voice, feels like his throat is too closed up, doesn’t know what else to say in response. But Liam seems to get it, seems to understand the guarded hesitation of Theo’s body, and lets go of his shirt. Pulls back and away from him, the hand around Theo sliding slowly as it skims across Theo’s collarbone before finally dropping off. It’s not a sigh of relief that leaves Theo’s lips when Liam is a few steps away, but Theo doesn’t think he has it in himself to process what it actually is. Is just a little too exhausted to work through the lingering tinge of disappointment that ricochets through him as he twirls around and faces Liam. 

“You feel better?” he asks in an even tone, trying to turn the conversation away from himself and back to why they’re here in the first place. Liam snorts, seemingly taking the topic change for what it is as a small grin pulls at his lips. 

“I will when you admit that you lost,” the beta goads, and Theo levels a dry look at him.

“You didn’t win.”

“I had my arm around your neck,” Liam stresses, hand flailing to the side as they both collapse face-up onto the grass, staring at the cloudless sky. “Think that counts as a win.”

Theo disregards the way something in his stomach stirs at the beta’s statement. “I didn’t tap out.”

“You would’ve.”

“Bullshit.”

“Arm. Around. Neck.” Liam’s head slumps to the side to look at Theo as he repeats his earlier words, and this time, Theo is helpless in the way his eyes flit down to Liam’s lips for just a split-second. Knows Liam notices when his scent turns warm, and Theo pulls his gaze away in turn. The amusement in the beta’s voice is glaringly evident as he continues. “Just admit it, sweetheart. You fucking lost.”

Theo pokes Liam’s unprotected side harshly, smirk flickering on his face when the beta yelps and turns his body away from him. But his mirth is suddenly wiped clean when Liam pounces on him, both of them rolling back and forth across the field as they each try to gain the upper hand, though they’re already a little worn out from their previous sparring. 

“Admit it,” Liam demands, his voice tight as he knocks out Theo’s arm that’s holding his shoulder down, and uses the momentum to spin them around smoothly. 

“No,” Theo mock-snarls, wraps his leg around one of Liam’s ankles and tugs outward. The beta loses his balance and almost falls on top of him, would’ve if not for the way Theo twists at the last second, his body coming on top again as they turn. Theo braces his forearm against Liam’s collarbone, pressing down with just enough pressure that the beta growls. 

Theo tilts his head in amusement, brow lifting up in challenge as he pushes down harder. Squeezes his knees in against Liam’s ribs as he lets go of his grip on his chemosignals, lets his elation filter through. 

It lasts about three seconds.

“Fuck,” Theo hisses when Liam suddenly flips them over, his brute strength edging over Theo’s—just like it always does when they do this—as one of Liam’s hands comes up to lay flat on top of Theo’s sternum and presses down heavily. The tips of his fingers rest at the base of Theo’s neck as Liam’s other hand pins both his wrists above him, and Theo groans as the beta does the same thing he did, knees exerting pressure against Theo’s sides. 

The weight of Liam’s hand on his upper chest is a taunting sort of thing, specifically because of the way Liam drums his fingers on the bare skin at the bottom of Theo’s throat. A breathtaking sort of reminder of what Liam could do. 

Liam’s satisfaction is a lot less muted than Theo’s had been moments before, and though Theo tries to regain the advantage, the beta’s grip doesn’t let up. 

“Get off,” Theo protests gruffly, but Liam just smirks and digs the heel of his palm into Theo’s sternum harder, his thumb gliding to one side as the other four fingers move to the opposite. A few inches higher and Liam’s hand would be wrapped around Theo’s neck, and they both know it. 

“Nah,” Liam drawls, eyes squinting slightly in delight as his hand creeps up an inch and Theo’s breath hitches. “Think I’m pretty comfortable right here.”

Theo narrows his eyes, and decides to use Liam’s own tactic against him. His hips buck up as much as they can under the beta’s weight, and Liam’s eyes widen in surprise as his mouth opens unconsciously. His grasp on Theo doesn’t loosen, but Theo goes for it anyway, attempts to break out from under Liam.

It, conspicuously, doesn’t work. 

Liam lets out a short laugh, bright and sunny and free of the storm that had consumed him this morning, as he lets go of Theo’s wrists and curls his hand under Theo’s neck instead. His fingers notably don’t touch his tattoo, and Theo knows that it’s a conscious decision on the beta’s part, is grateful for it in the one second pause that he gets before Liam leans down.

He slots his lips over Theo’s, tugs Theo’s bottom one between his teeth and bites down gently, and Theo’s eyes flutter close as he gives in easily and tilts his head up, moving his mouth in sync with Liam’s. 

Liam pulls back just a half-inch, his words ghosting over Theo’s lips, voice inundated with a flood of fondness that wildly slams into Theo’s chest with a force that leaves him a little breathless. “You’re so fucking stupid.” The beta presses a smile against his lips before drawing back again. “Did you really think that would work?”

Theo retaliates by surging up and nipping at Liam’s bottom lip. “It did last time,” he tries to sneer when he drops his head back down, ends up being more of a grumble instead, and Liam’s face lights up again with a radiant yet somehow still smug smile. It leaves Theo a little stunned with its intensity, just like it does every time the beta directs that particular look at him, even though Corey keeps telling him that it’s Liam’s Theo smile. Reserved just for him.  

Liam drops his forearm right next to Theo’s head, cups his neck again as his entire body comes down to rest against Theo’s. The kiss is less charged with triumph and pride this time, feels strikingly sweet in the way one of Liam’s fingers strokes across Theo’s hairline before his hand slides down and cards through his hair, in the way Liam’s other hand is still curved around the back of Theo’s neck and his thumb intermittently smoothes across his skin. In the way Liam’s tongue glides across Theo’s bottom lip and demands entrance before Theo parts his mouth and lets Liam lick inside. In the way they’re still out on the open fucking field in broad daylight and yet all of Theo’s senses can only focus on the beta on top of him. On the fuzzy feeling building in his chest. 

They break apart only when Liam’s phone buzzes loudly in his pocket, Liam fishing it out and immediately groaning out a curse. He disentangles himself from Theo before flopping onto his back next to him, dropping his phone face-down onto the grass.

“Forgot I promised Mom I’d clean up the yard today,” Liam explains, and Theo lets out a snort as he slaps his hand down on the beta’s chest once before sitting up. He has no intentions to let Liam drag him into that, no matter how much he’d sacrifice for the beta. 

“Have fun,” he teases, but falters for a moment and angles his head back down towards Liam, brows furrowing just a little. “You good now?”

Liam’s relaxed expression spasms, but the tension that had been rooted in every inch of his body when they had first gotten here was gone. “Yeah. Just—just one of those days.”

One of those days usually means the hot, steadfast itch under his skin, usually also means a nightmare-ridden night. Theo nudges Liam’s thigh with his own, leaves it flush against his as a grounding touch that he’s learned helps the beta a lot more than words. Liam’s face softens when Theo doesn’t push him any further, and Theo drags his gaze away to tip his head back and look up at the sky instead. 

He knows it results in his shirt sliding down an inch on his back, knows that the majority of his tattoo is visible to Liam like this. Feels his lips twitch up into a hint of a half-smile when Liam returns his gesture, pressing his thigh against Theo’s.

---

It’s not until the next night that Liam brings up the tattoo again. Or, well, not so much brings it up as much as takes it upon himself to slip his thumb under the neck of Theo’s t-shirt and rub over the ink slowly. 

Theo stiffens for just a moment, his first instinct being to dart away, make his escape before the ghost of his undead sister shows up again and sends him to another one of his funerals. 

(It almost feels like a losing game at times, because Tara always ends up with her hand around the back of Theo’s neck and her fingers pushing past the skin of his chest. Even up here, even up where he’s supposed to be safe from shadow-sisters and the bloody cavity in his body that he’s felt five hundred and seventy-nine times. 

Up here where there’s a distinct line between the living and the dead, a line that had gotten blurred so viciously down there. Five hundred and seventy-nine funerals he’s lived through down there, only to wake up again after each one to a small, chilly metal box and the distant whispered wail of his name and the scent of rot pervading his senses. 

The first cycle had been over before he even entirely processed what was happening, so it hadn’t really been until the fourth that his brain jumpstarted to life, made the connections and parallels that he wishes he could forget. 

Because the halls of the hospital had almost seemed like the twists and turns of the sewers on the fifth cycle, Theo no longer an eighteen-year-old running from a pale apparition of his dead sister but a thirteen-year-old boy frantically sprinting away from the heavy footsteps creeping closer and closer with every second. 

Thirteen-year-old Theo rammed his shoulder into a wall when he’d turned back for a split-second too long while trying to spot the rabid chimera behind him, and it had been the small mistake that cost him everything. 

Cost him his life, because the chimera deemed a failure by the Doctors just that morning had shown no sign of hesitation before wrapping his claws around Theo’s ankle and yanking him back towards him, had shown no uncertainty in the way his razor-sharp fangs sank into the back of Theo’s neck ferociously. 

Theo’s guttural cry had been far past the point of holding back in that moment, his body twitching violently on the ground as the other chimera’s teeth pressed deeper and deeper into his skin, his claws plunging into Theo’s shoulder blades to pin him in place. It had been unnecessary, really, because Theo’s body had already given up, small spasms the last thing he had felt before he blacked out. 

But the Doctors hadn’t let him go that simply, of course they couldn’t let him take the easy way out, and had brought him back to life with their serum hours later. Let Theo’s body fully heal before strapping him down.

And the cold scrape of metal against his skin had almost been a welcoming feeling after the fangs in his neck a few hours before.)

But Liam’s caress is soft, nothing like the harsh, cold press of Tara’s fingers, nothing like the deadly prick of fangs, and Theo casts aside that instinct surprisingly quickly. Regains his bearings and recognizes that he’s in his apartment, not down there, and he thinks that maybe part of the reason why it happens so fast is the beta.

His second urge is to flit his eyes over to Mason and Corey on the couch, but they seem too wrapped up in both each other and the episode of Stranger Things playing on the screen to pay attention to what Liam or Theo are doing. And so Theo drops his rigid shoulders, leans back in between Liam’s legs against the armchair and breathes out softly as the beta continues stroking his bare skin gently.

It’s alarmingly soporific, Theo’s eyelids growing heavier by the minute at the feel of Liam’s comforting touch, vaguely noting in the back of his mind a while later that the couple on the couch have already long fallen asleep, judging from their slow, steady heartbeats. 

Liam seems to realize it too, because the TV turns off a second later, the hum of voices that Theo’s been too sluggish to keep up with suddenly vanishing. And Theo’s head is already resting on Liam’s thigh, well on his way to giving into his exhaustion, but the hand under his shirt suddenly pulls away, and Theo misses the touch immediately. 

“C’mon,” Liam shakes his shoulder lightly with a whisper, “You’ll be more comfortable in your bed.”

“Fuck off,” Theo hums out quietly as he mashes his cheek into Liam’s sweats and keeps his eyes closed. He hears Liam’s amused exhale, and a few beats later, his head is forced up when Liam starts to stand. A halfhearted protest leaves his lips when Liam bends down and grabs his arm, pulling him up with a force that sends Theo crashing into the beta. 

Liam staggers back a few steps but manages to regain his footing, and both of them somehow stumble up the stairs and into Theo’s room after deciding that Mason and Corey seem comfortable enough where they are. Neither of them bother to flick on the light before collapsing onto the bed, the beta tugging the covers from under Theo and pulling them up over both of them before settling down into the mattress.

Theo shifts closer and huffs out a breath against the crook of Liam’s neck, and the beta’s hand slips under the top of his shirt knowingly, a soothing heat against his skin. His eyelids drop shut pretty quickly after that, and he drifts off with the feeling of Liam’s fingers brushing his tattoo over and over again.

---

Theo’s lounging on his bed with his back to the headboard the next day, after Mason and Corey leave with the excuse of studying for their—completely nonexistent, Liam informs him later in an exasperated voice—calc exam, when Liam finally trudges upstairs from the kitchen. Where he’s been for the last hour and a half, cleaning up the brilliant mess he’d made last night while attempting to cook dinner for the four of them. 

(Theo can tell Liam, Mason, and Corey are already in his apartment when he pulls into the parking lot, but he’d expected them to just be sprawled out in the living room watching some random show or that one Captain America movie that Liam likes so much. 

He hadn’t expected to walk into something that looks like it could be pulled straight from a scene of a shitty horror movie, air cloudy with dust—which he soon finds out is flour— red streaks everywhere from the counter to the oven door to Liam himself. 

Liam, with his hair mussed and covered in flour, with red splotches on his cheek and forehead and all over his hands, with his eyes wide and panicked as he turns to Theo standing at the front door. 

Theo turns to Mason and Corey, both sitting casually on the couch with broad smirks lighting up their faces, before twisting his head back slowly over to Liam. 

“I can explain,” Liam rushes out, runs his sauce-coated hand through his hair, and Theo bites the inside of his cheek to stop the smile that threatens to break free at the beta’s now even messier hair. “Mason said that I was a really bad cook and that’s obviously not true but he didn’t believe me so of course I had to prove him wrong and so I said that I would make us all pizza for dinner and I couldn’t find the flour at first because you put it in that top fucking cabinet but then I accidentally opened it too fast and the bag kinda exploded everywhere but I got enough into the bowl to make the dough and then I forgot to let it rise before putting the sauce on so I tried to take the sauce off but that didn’t really work and—”

Theo’s genuinely a little worried that Liam hasn’t taken a single breath so far. “Liam,” he tries, then repeats it a little louder. “Liam.” The beta’s teeth clack together, and Theo can’t keep the grin off his face anymore at his boyfriend’s expression. “One, you have nothing to prove because Mason’s right, you’re a complete disaster in the kitchen.”

Liam opens his mouth to protest, but Theo lifts a brow and sweeps his eyes over the kitchen tellingly, and the beta presses his lips together again. 

“And two, you’re cleaning all of this up by yourself.”

“But—”

“Nope,” Theo cuts him off, not even letting him try to persuade him into helping. He walks over to the beta, pulls a strand of his hair to the side and snorts at the flour and sauce that cover his fingers from the touch. “I was gonna take a shower, but I think you need it more. Idiot.”

“At least he never turned the oven on,” Corey calls out from the couch, and Liam flips the chameleon off with a sneer. “Be grateful that he didn’t get a chance to burn the whole place down.”

Mason nods in agreement and Theo smirks as Liam’s face contorts in a deeper scowl, tries to lean forward to place his forehead on Theo’s chest but Theo steps away, keeps Liam back by his shoulders.

“Absolutely not, dickhead,” he voices, ignoring Mason’s laugh. “Go fucking shower first.”

Liam’s shoulders drop in defeat and he turns towards the stairs before pausing, angling his head at Theo with a flicker of a smirk. “We could save water and shower togeth—”

Theo flicks Liam’s forehead hard. “Go.”

“Asshole.”

“I’m sorry, who was the one that turned my kitchen into a goddamn crime scene?”

Liam just holds his middle finger up as he climbs up the stairs.)

They’d ended up ordering pizza instead, much to Liam’s annoyance and the other three’s great relief. 

Theo sees Liam’s eyes roam to the still-closed blinds and then over him for a few seconds in his peripheral vision before the beta makes his way to the bed, steps up onto the mattress and swings a leg over Theo’s head, plopping down onto the headboard. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Theo asks without even moving his gaze away from his phone, liking a post with a bunch of cat videos. 

“Scoot up,” the beta says instead of an explanation, but Theo moves anyway, and Liam slides down in between him and the headboard. His legs press in on either side of Theo, and Liam slides an arm around Theo’s middle, pulling him back against his chest. 

Theo says nothing, just slumps back into Liam and continues absentmindedly scrolling on his phone as the beta hooks his chin over Theo’s shoulder and draws random shapes on his stomach. He can almost feel Liam’s fatigue, so he stays silent and just lets him wearily look at the posts on the screen from behind him.

But then Liam pulls back just a little a few minutes later and Theo almost anticipates it, isn’t even a little surprised when he feels a finger tug the neckline of his—Liam’s, if he’s actually being honest—sweatshirt down and a nail tracing the anatomical heart on his back. 

“Where’d you get it?” Liam murmurs sleepily and Theo leans into his touch when it gets slightly more insistent. 

“Remember that rabid dog I told you about? Attacked that girl in the preserve?”

“Divya?”

Theo hums in answer, though it cuts off as his breath stutters when he feels lips pressed to his tattoo. 

“She owns a tattoo parlor that caters to supernaturals,” Theo breathes out quietly, his heart tumbling over multiple beats as Liam mouths at the skin of his tattoo. Pecks the corners of the heart before sighing softly and brushing his lips against the center. Theo’s words are barely above a whisper when he continues, voice gravel. “Said to come in if I ever wanted a free tattoo as a thanks.”

Liam hums this time, in acknowledgement, the vibration of it rattling through Theo’s body from where the beta’s lips are attached to just below his neck. 

He markedly doesn’t ask Theo why he hadn’t told him when he went to go get it, and Theo feels that knowledge settle deep in his chest. Feels the way Liam just understands sometimes, even when Theo doesn’t explain. 

“Wanna get one someday,” Liam states after a couple of minutes, and Theo’s brows lift in surprise.

“Of what?”

Liam smacks his lips together, the soft noise clicking near Theo’s ear. “Dunno yet. Something cool, though.”

Theo lets out a subdued snicker, trying not to jostle Liam too much, because he knows the beta is halfway to dreamland already. 

Liam wraps both his arms around Theo tighter after that and doesn’t say anything else, keeping him close as his lips stay pressed against the black ink. Theo’s mouth quirks up when Liam mumbles against his skin, makes out a fucking tired and stupid dinner and m’hungry through the jumble of words. 

“There’s leftovers in the fridge, go eat if you’re hungry,” Theo replies, but Liam doesn’t budge, even when Theo jabs his elbow lightly into Liam’s gut to get a response. 

Liam lets out a groan but then just pulls Theo with him as he sags back against the headboard, the back of Theo’s head landing on his chest. “G’night,” the beta mutters, head bowing down as he rests his cheek on Theo’s hair. 

“It’s one in the afternoon.”

Liam blindly reaches up with one hand, grabs Theo’s phone and tosses it to the side before placing his palm back on Theo’s abs. 

“G’night,” Liam repeats resolutely, and Theo really has no other option but to snort and nuzzle back into the beta. 

---

Liam’s finger moves in a familiar pattern along the back of his neck, even though both of their eyes are on the TV in front of them, and Theo’s lips twitch up slightly.

“You memorized it?”

The beta doesn’t stop his tracing, doesn’t even turn his head to the side to look at Theo. “I like it,” he says in lieu of an actual answer, voice lower than the ones coming from the TV. “Fun to trace.”

Theo hears the slew of implications behind that statement, but doesn’t comment on it for now, instead just slumping back into the couch and dropping the subject. 

(Because it’s also soothing for him in a way that he thinks shouldn’t be possible, not when he can still feel every second of Tara’s lifeless eyes boring into him as her icy hand curves around his neck, not when he still sometimes feels the way utter helplessness of being trapped under the rabid chimera’s body, fangs plunging deeper and deeper. 

It feels nonsensical, that despite all of that, Liam tracing the black ink heart is almost comforting. And he knows that Liam is fully aware of the meaning of the tattoo, remembers the hushed conversation they had in the early hours of the morning months ago after Theo woke up from a nightmare with his heart pounding so loud that it dragged Liam out of sleep too. Remembers the way Liam clasped his hand tight under the covers, thumb stroking the back of his hand as Theo, for the first time in a decade, opened up. Remembers the beta shuffling towards him and holding him close after, even though it had been before they actually got together, hand in Theo’s hair as he promised that he’s not there anymore, and that he’d never go back. 

Remembers waking up the next morning still curled up in Liam’s arms and realizing that the rest of his sleep had been surprisingly nightmare-free. Hadn’t known if it was the fact that he let go of some of the things weighing down on his chest by talking about them or if it was the fact that Liam had held him tight the entire night after his nightmare. And deep down, he thinks that he’d known what the answer was, even if he didn’t admit it out loud, didn’t admit it to himself yet. 

And Liam’s never brought up the significance of the heart in any of their conversations, somehow intrinsically understanding that it’s not something Theo thinks he can put into words. But every time the beta trails his finger or nail over it, Theo can almost feel the unsaid assurance, feel the implicit promise encompassed within it.)

Theo’s not sure how much time really passes as episode after episode of Hell’s Kitchen queues up and plays endlessly, but sometime later, he turns his head slightly to see that Liam’s passed out, head tilted back against the sofa as his chest rises up and down steadily. 

And he can’t really stop himself from staring, doesn’t get to map out Liam like this that often. So he can’t really stop his eyes from flitting over the sharp cut of Liam’s jaw and his eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks and the curve of his parted lips and the strand of hair resting over one of his eyes and—

The front door of his apartment opens and Theo almost jolts but holds it back in time, is grateful that Mason and Corey are relatively quiet as they enter, both of them noticing Liam on the couch almost immediately. 

“You’re kidding,” Mason says in a low, miffed tone, and Theo’s lips pull up at the corners. “How the fuck are we supposed to do this movie marathon if he’s already asleep?”

“I’m awake,” a voice mumbles, and Theo twists his head to the side to see Liam blink groggily, eyes squinting at the kitchen light that Corey had flicked on when they’d entered, but the chameleon turns it off again as he makes his way to the living room. “Put Winter Soldier first.”

Corey plops down on the beanbag that he’s colonized ever since Theo got it as Mason narrows his eyes at his best friend. “We’re supposed to be watching them in order, for Theo, remember?” the human states more than asks, and Liam waves him off, his head leaning into Theo’s shoulder.

“The only way I won’t fall asleep again is if I get two hours of Bucky first,” the beta declares, and Theo lets out a soft snort at that. Liam’s love for the dude isn’t a secret to anyone in the pack anymore, and thus the only Marvel movies that Theo’s watched so far are the Captain America trilogy. With a substantial emphasis on Winter Soldier, considering that this would be the fourth time he’s watching it in five months. Not that he’s really complaining, though, because well. It’s a good movie for numerous reasons. “And plus, Theo’s okay with it, so it’s fine.”

Mason throws his hands in the air exasperatedly, apparently deciding that he isn’t gonna win this one, and honestly, it’s the smart choice. Theo’s not sure he has the energy to sit through the argument Liam would put up if Mason didn’t give in. 

The movie starts and Liam’s suddenly wide awake now, eyes glued to the screen and Theo shakes his head in amusement as he brings his legs up and nestles deeper into the couch. The beta’s gaze snaps to him for a split-second, his hand sliding behind his waist slowly and then slipping under the bottom of his shirt. 

Theo doesn’t curb the shiver that runs through him at the touch, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip unconsciously as Liam slithers his hand up until his fingers rest on the tattoo once again. Bucky makes his first appearance on the TV as Liam pushes at his back a little, and Theo picks up on the suggestion, shifts sideways on the couch and then lies down until his head rests on Liam’s lap. 

He’s barely paying attention to the movie if he’s being honest, almost has it memorized anyway, and so when he feels Liam’s other hand come up to run through his hair, he doesn’t feel too bad about letting his eyes flutter closed. 

“Every fucking time, I swear,” Theo hears Mason whisper a couple minutes later, and a smile spreads on his lips even though his eyes stay shut. “We’re never trying to do the Marvel marathon at night again, god.”

Liam’s mirth rolls off of him in waves, and even Corey’s giggle is audible over the gunshots coming from the movie. “Just enjoy how hot Chris Evans is for tonight, babe,” the chameleon placates, and Mason grumbles for a few seconds before he finally seems to settle into the beanbag and goes quiet. 

In spite of the hands in his hair and on his back, Theo doesn’t actually drift off, the noises of the movie filling his ears as he blinks his eyes open every once in a while to peek at the screen before closing them again. 

Which is why he can’t stop the way his mind brutally latches onto Bucky’s tortured screams when it comes to the mind-wiping scene. And despite the fact that he’s watched it multiple times before—though the last two times they’d watched the movie, he’d fallen asleep by this part—it still sends him spiraling a little into all the memories he tries not to think about every time he hears it.

(Being kept awake during the surgeries is almost the worst part of it all, second only to the lack of anesthetics given to him. Though they’re almost two parts of the same consequence, Theo being forced to feel every sting of metal, being forced to watch as the Doctors open him up like he’s just another body—which, he comes to realize, is the fucking truth—being forced to learn things he’d never wanted to know through their extensive experiments. 

Learn things like how deep he has to cut into his skin in order to get to what he needs to reach while not causing too much blood loss. Things like how long he can manage to stay awake before passing out from the pain of wolfsbane being directly injected into his insides. Things like how to perform surgery on himself, because the Doctors’ operations were anatomy lessons as much as they were experiments for their own ambitions, because his chimera healing doesn’t take care of everything sometimes and the Doctors stopped fixing him up when he got old enough to do it himself in their eyes. 

But if there’s one thing that the Doctors don’t tolerate most of all, it’s Theo showing his pain. Whether it’s through screaming or pleading or clenching his hands so much that blood gets everywhere—gets in their way—they’d punish him twice as hard for it. 

He eventually learns to control it, to separate the things happening to his body from his mind enough that he slips into a cold, numb state, but even after that, there’s still times when the pain gets too much, gets too loud, gets too severe to hold back. Times when Theo grinds his teeth together hard yet still feels the cry in the back of his throat build and build and build until it’s pushing past his lips. 

And it echoes through the sewers—a hollow, haunting sort of sound that rings in Theo’s ears long after it’s gone—until Theo forces himself to cut it off, before it gets too long, before he makes it even worse. It almost feels like he has a constant lump residing in his throat, creeping up every once in a while before Theo harshly shoves it down. Almost feels like an ever-present scream ready to escape his lips.)

Liam notices almost instantly, of course he notices, digs his nails into Theo’s scalp a little harder to help bring him back. Lifts the finger on his tattoo so that the edge of his nail is scraping against it instead, and Theo slowly starts to relax again. Slowly starts to release the tension stored in the deep crevices of his body that’s been built up for years. 

Theo takes a shaky breath, scrunching up his hand in Liam’s sweatpants loosely as a grounding source, and Liam continues with his own form of comfort. His way of reassuring Theo that he’s right there, providing an almost overwhelming sense of solace that Theo can’t describe, hadn’t even thought possible until the beta had become his anchor and showed him all the things that Theo never got a chance to experience before. 

There’s a different scene on the TV now, and though Liam doesn’t speak up, the hand in Theo’s hair slides to the side and taps twice at the side of Theo’s neck lightly. A silent question, one that the beta’s used before when he’d known that Theo didn’t want to talk. Theo swallows and nods almost imperceptibly in response, and Liam’s hand moves back into his hair in turn.

The movie passes quickly after that, Theo focusing more on Liam’s hand running over his tattoo over and over again more than the bright screen, although a small snicker still escapes him when Sam lands in the helicopter and yells forty-first floor.  

And as much as he wants to stay awake till the end, Theo loses the battle startlingly fast when Liam leans down, presses a single, gentle kiss to his tattoo, and whispers: “Go to sleep,” before draping the blanket that Theo keeps on the couch for occasions like this over both of them. 

Theo makes it to I’m with you ‘til the end of the line before sleep overtakes him completely.

---

“Raeken,” Divya greets with a bright grin, all her tattoos covered by the long-sleeved sweater she has on today, “You’re back.”

“S’not for me,” Theo says quickly before she can ask what he’s here for, and catches the way her eyes light up when she sees Liam. “Divya—”

“So is this one of the friends you said you had?” she interjects, leaning forward on the counter and placing her chin in her palm as she looks Liam up and down. “Not the kind of crowd I would’ve pictured you with, Raeken.”

Liam looks a little offended, and Theo smirks for a moment before schooling his expression when the beta turns to him with narrowed eyes and a challenging tilt of his head. 

“I’m a little more than a friend,” Liam stresses when he turns back to Divya, though Theo can tell that the beta recognizes that she’s just joking around. “Considering that a few hours ago, I was f—”

Theo smacks the back of Liam’s head roughly, shoving him towards Divya to stop him from continuing what he had been about to say. Divya, for her part, looks like she’s struggling to hold back a laugh, although her eyes convey her amusement well enough. 

“C’mon back,” she says to Liam before angling her head towards Theo, “And on second thought, I think he’s exactly the kind of crowd you need.”

“Fuck off,” Theo mutters as he follows both of them into the back room, flipping Liam off when the beta aims a smug smirk in his direction. 

Liam settles into the leather chair in the center of the room as Divya rolls closer to him in her own chair. “So, what were you thinking of getting?”

Theo’s lips tilt up in a small grin when Liam’s eyes widen and he winces slightly. “I...don’t really know. Maybe something—something cool?” His voice lilts up a little on the last word and Divya stills, her hand frozen on the edge of the tray containing all her tools. 

“Something cool?”

“Yeah.”

Theo is powerless, can’t hold back the bark of laughter that worms its way out of his throat, and both Liam and Divya turn to him, the former with a knowing glare on his face and the latter in barely restrained, confounded horror. 

“Great,” Divya mutters under her breath after a long second, and Theo’s grin only grows wider at her resignation, “Let’s find something cool to tattoo on your boyfriend, Raeken.”