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“Scott,” Liam whispers.
Scott’s eyes flick away from where they stare—searching beyond the overhand—to meet Liam’s gaze steadily. “Shh,” he breathes, raising a hand to press a finger against his lips.
Liam nods. He understands—their way out of here is stealth. They won’t be able to fight. Not against that many. But still, his hands shake where they sink into the detritus of the forest floor. His teeth click too harshly. Each breath is muffled but all the more sudden and sharp. Liam feels like he’s made of nothing but noise. To stay silent is difficult— impossible— and he’s not sure if he’ll be able to. Pretty sure he can’t.
But Scott—Scott is different. He sits ramrod straight, eyes pinned, breathing shallow. Liam knows if Scott was alone here, hunkering down in the socket formed by a felled tree, he’d stay quiet and unnoticed, and he’d easily escape. But he isn't alone. Liam is here.
And if they get caught—if they get killed. It will be Liam’s fault.
A footfall comes above their heads. Twigs snap and the pops echo through the gentle whirl of nightlife background. Liam flinches. A second footstep comes. Then another. Liam feels something in his nerves bristle. Goosebumps crawl over his flesh. His skin feels too tight and his bones like jelly and Liam is pretty sure he’s about to melt—
A hand reaches out, grasping his shoulder.
Liam freezes, Scott’s hand pressing heat against his chilled skin. Liam looks up. Scott is looking at him, dark gaze warm. When they lock eyes Liam feels something harden in his chest.
The thing above them turns out to be slightly to their left. It crawls loose from the shadows, slipping and sliding into view. If it turns to look at them, and they’re making any movement at all, they’ll be found out.
Something seizes in Liam’s throat. An inhale catches, and his breathing is gone.
He waits for the figure to twist. For two reflective pinpoints to lock onto them, for the thing to turn, to approach.
But that doesn’t happen.
Instead, the silhouette continues to prowl, slipping forward among the wirey branches and tree trunks with the faintest, shifting whisper in its wake. It weaves a sinuous route away. The others follow, panting with hot breath that steams in the night chill. And then, they are gone.
Liam exhales slowly. Scott’s hand falls away from his shoulder.
“That was close,” he says, still hushed.
Liam finds it in himself to nod in agreement. “Too close.”
Scott shifts. “Stay here,” he orders.
“What?”
But Scott is already ducking out from beneath the alcove. He moves silently, feet finding sure purchase on the carpet of dead leaves. Liam catches a glimpse of his eyes, which shine piercingly in the watery moonlight, and thinks Scott is way too determined to leave him behind.
Liam wiggles forward after him, then stops, wincing, as a twig breaks.
Scott’s head snaps in his direction. “Liam.”
Liam scowls, “Fine.” He settles back in the underbrush.
Scott twists back around and creeps into the woods. He disappears into the murk of weak moonlight, silent.
Liam waits. Every creak and chirp of the woods sounds loudly, pricking at his ears. He feels the brush of cold crawling beneath his clothes. The air smells like the muggy scent of the beasts, and he wrinkles his nose against it.
Scott isn’t gone long. A minute, maybe two. But to Liam, the time marches on languidly. He shifts, trying not to make any noise, and peers into the gloom.
He smells Scott's return before he sees him. The sharp spice of his deodorant, sweat, and the wolf-like musk of aged rain.
“They’re gone,” Scott says, crouching down to Liam’s level.
Liam sighs in relief. The sinking dread that comes with cowering feet away from a bloodthirsty muzzle starts to leach away. He runs a hand through his hair, brushing through the sweaty strands.
“C’mon,” Scott says. He holds out a hand and Liam takes it, using it to help pull himself to his feet.
“Thanks,” he mumbles. Standing, he feels his back pop, his muscles strain then loosen. He didn’t realize how tense he was, huddled up and waiting.
“We should head back,” Scott says. “Let the others know.”
Liam nods. “I should get home before my parents notice I’m gone.”
“Oh,” Scott says. “I forgot about them.”
“You forgot about my parents.”
Scott winces. “Let’s just get you home.”
They start off in the direction of town. A couple of minutes into trekking Liam is unable to fight off a yawn. It’s late, and he should have been in bed hours ago.
“Tired?” Scott teases. “It is a school night.”
“Shut up,” Liam says, scowling. “You have school too.”
“Free period in the morning. I get to sleep in.”
Liam rolls his eyes. “How responsible of you. Planning midnight excursions to fight the supernatural around a sleep schedule. Too bad you pulled me into it.”
Liam waits for Scott to bite back with a thorny remark, but it doesn’t come. The silence stretches, until Liam is frowning and tense and hoping one of them finds anything at all to say.
But then it's Scott who breaks the silence by saying quietly, “I’m sorry." Liam immediately wishes he talked about the weather, not quite comfortable with the sudden delving into a heavier exchange. He's too tired for this.
“What—why?”
Scott shrugs. “You’re right. It is a school night, and you probably shouldn’t be running around in the woods dealing with lethal, supernatural creatures. Especially without your parents' permission. I guess I’m just…I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”
Liam’s not sure they’re talking about tonight alone anymore. He racks his brain for the right thing to say, and can’t quite find it. “Scott…I like being a werewolf. I like being part of the pack—I like running around on full moons and all the in-between.”
“Do you?” Scott says, turning to stare at him searchingly. “Even if you have to spend first-thing-in-the-morning Economics sleep deprived and trying not to let Coach see?”
"Yes!" But then Liam frowns, something occurring at that moment. “Wait—do you have my class schedule memorized?”
Scott’s silence is telling.
“Scott!”
“It was Stiles,” Scott says defensively. “When I gave you the bite we kind of…stalked you for a bit. His idea.”
“That wasn’t this semester’s classes though.”
Scott just coughs. “Anyway,” he says. “We should pick up the pace. I still have to stop and cue Derick in, and we’ve got to make sure you beat your step-dad home from his shift.”
Liam groans, but really, he's just glad they're traversing lighter subjects. “I’m too tired to run.”
“What happened to ‘I love being a werewolf. I love running through the field and forests with the wind in my hair. I love—’”
“Okay!” Liam interrupts. “Let’s just go.”
Scott laughs and starts to run, forcing Liam to rush after him. Immediately his fatigue slips away, replaced by the thrumming excitement of quick, furious sprinting. He pants, tasting the wildlife, passing streams, and mulchy forest floor. He’d never admit it, but Scott was on to something, about liking the wind. Something about the cold breeze carding through his tangled hair and tugging against his clothes is refreshing. He grins.
They only slow down when they reach the town, and by then, Liam is sweating and his exhaustion has piqued again.
He comes to a walking stop, hands clasped and resting behind his head. Scott slows beside him.
“I never get tired of that,” Scott says.
Liam nods in agreement.
Without discussion, they both head in the direction of Liam’s house, even though Derrick’s place is in the other direction, and it means Scott’ll have to double back after. They slip through the streets, avoiding lit-up houses, until they reach Liam’s. Luckily, the windows are dark.
“My mom’s asleep,” Liam says.
“Good,” Scott says. “You can sneak in.”
“There is so much wrong with that.”
Scott smacks his arm. “You didn’t have any problem sneaking out.”
Liam rubs his stinging arm and glares reproachfully. “Hey.”
“Sorry,” Scott says, not looking very apologetic. “That was a little too hard.”
Liam crosses his arms. “Whatever—it’s fine.” It’s not like it hurt him or anything.
“I'm glad you'll survive," Scott says, smile tugging at his lips.
Liam ignored this. "Y ou know,” he says, looking over, eyebrows raised . “If you…wanted to make amends. You could always get Derrick to call me out of Economics tomorrow.”
“Derrick doesn’t have the authority to call you out of Economics.”
“The school doesn’t know what my step-dad sounds like,” Liam points out.
Scott shakes his head. “He won’t listen to me anyway.”
“Ugh,” Liam sighs. “It was worth a shot.”
Scott just waves his hand in the direction of Liam’s window. “Time to head to bed,” he says.
“Yeah,” Liam agrees, starting towards the house. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you later, Liam.”
Liam slips through the window. He closes it behind himself, and in doing so, catches a final glimpse of Scott slinking away into the thin, wavery moonglow and shadows. Liam stares after him for a moment, then gets ready for bed.
He jumps into what is the quickest shower of his life, washing away the sweat and forest floor and aching tension clinging to his muscles. By the time he steps out he’s a loose, floaty version of himself. He towels off half asleep and falls into bed with a sigh.
Part of him latches onto the memories of tonight. He trawls through the fear and adrenaline soaked memories. The glimpses of unnatural beasts in the silver, night-light.
But the exhaustion is too great.
Liam slips away into a couple of hours asleep, and when he’s woken by his alarm clock the next morning, he’s ready to do it all over.