Archive of Our Own ^beta

When Theo turns thirteen, he’s given the freedom of leaving without being tracked within the promise to return before midnight. He sits stock-still on the metal examination table in their current temporary home, his arm held out as The Surgeon uses tweezers to pick out the tracker-chip they’d planted the moment he’d finished heart-surgery.

It’s not that they don’t trust him — though that probably fed into their reasoning — more of a safety precaution they’d do with every patient of theirs. That’s what they told him, that’s what he believed. He’d seen past patients with their own devices, their body’s failing the moment they’d tried to escape the set barrier The Doctors had made. But Theo was better than that — better than them — he was their success. 

The Geneticist puts her hands on his shoulders, crouching slightly so her and Theo are the same height. Her voice clicks robotically as she speaks, “You are to find the school, stop by the store and pick up soup, and return before midnight. Got it? ”

Theo nods confidently, clutching the twenty dollar bill she had given him in his hand, “Yes ma’am.”

She gives a final pat to his shoulders before standing back up mechanically and using her grip to spin him around and push him towards the door. Theo does as he’s told, finding and scoping out the middle school they’re going to send him to as soon as winter break ends.

He’s used to being the new kid, moving around constantly whilst The Doctors look for new people to experiment on. He always ends up lying, making up some story about his parents being in the military and that’s why he never stays in one town longer than a few months. Kids buy it, he makes some friends, they end up with their lives ruined, and he gets a metaphorical gold star from The Surgeon.

The cashier at the store looks at Theo weirdly when he carries five cans of chicken noodle soup up to the counter, asking him if he needs help — which Theo knows was a nonchalant way of asking if he was homeless. He shakes his head and pays with the twenty dollar bill before shoving the cans in his backpack and following his path back to the abandoned house he and The Doctors are staying in.

Neither The Surgeon or The Pathologist acknowledge his return, though The Geneticist pats his back with an uncomfortably firm and cold gloved hand.

—

“Stop that, stop— stop doing that. ” Theo says, trying to keep his attention un- divided as he looks back and forth between Liam and the road.

Liam looks over at the chimera, “What am I doing?” He asks, genuine, unfortunately.

Because sometimes Theo is forced to remember how different he is from the rest of the pack. He knows more than any of them — though he thinks that’s on them for being uneducated rather than him for being told to memorize books forwards and backwards or else he’d lose dinner privileges — when it comes to supernatural short-comings. Theo knows someone should teach, at the very least, the younger members (he just wishes that person didn’t have to constantly be him).

“The neck thing.” He clears his throat, “Stop it.”

“What neck thing.”

“When you—” Theo stops, because honestly how is he meant to explain this without the younger werewolf asking several other intruding questions Theo doesn’t have half the energy to explain, “Tilting your head back like that, it bares your neck. You shouldn’t make that a habit.”

Liam sits up slightly, pulling at his seat-belt as he re-positions his body. His brows furrow, “Why not?”

Theo sighs, “It’s a sign of submission, you shouldn’t just do it willy-nilly. Not— not in front of me at least.”

It’s the most basic explanation he could give. Teaching Liam about scenting and other shit surrounding the unfortunate importance around necks and wolves were not on Theo’s to-do list tonight.

“Why not in front of you?” Liam asks quietly, leaning closer to Theo (though Theo will say it’s unconscious).

“I’m not pack, you shouldn’t trust me with that kind of stuff.” Theo answers, just as quiet if not more. He sees Liam frown out of the corner of his eye but the other wolf doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive.

—

It takes Theo two hours after being brought back to realize how filthy he is.

They stop at Liam’s house first, Hayden complaining during the drive one too many times about what a God awful mistake her and Liam had made. Theo stands awkwardly in the living room as he waits for further instruction. Liam pockets his keys and groans, running his hands down his face. Hayden stands behind him, patting his back for only a moment before he shrugs her off.

“This was so stupid. ” He mutters.

Hayden opens her mouth but nothing comes out. She presses her lips together and stares at her boyfriend, waiting for him to make a decision.

Liam turns around, “There’s a bathroom down the hall, go shower in there.” He instructs Theo, pointing him in the direction of the bathroom.

Theo nods shakily, unclasping his hands and making his way down the hall. He hears Liam mention towels under the sink and locks the door behind him. He turns around, staring at the small tiled bathroom.

It’s cold. The lights are bright and make the backs of Theo’s eyes hurt. He turns to his right, the mirror. It’s now that he realizes just how dirty he is. Covered in soot from literally crawling up from under the ground.

There’s a sound — something so miniscule there isn’t any way in hell he could’ve heard it without the advanced hearing. Something so continuously annoying it makes him want to tear himself inside out. But it keeps going over and over and it’s so close to something he swears he’s heard before.

The faucet, the one in the tub, is leaking. There’s a constant dripdripdrip coming out of it despite being turned off. And it’s like it’s taunting Theo. Begging him to find a way to shut it up though he’s now realized what it is. What it reminds him of. Why the sound makes him feel itchy all over and unkempt and like he’s suddenly bleeding from every orifice on his body despite every injury from the Skinwalker Prison now being fully healed.

And now the lights feel brighter, burning through his walls and his skin and his insides and digging through things and places people shouldn’t be allowed to touch within another person. The reflection in the mirror looks distorted and off and inconveniently overall wrong.

And that fucking dripping sound won’t fucking stop and it’s to the point where Theo now has his hands cupped over his ears — claws out without permission, almost digging into the skin beneath them. dripdripdrip.

He tries to draw his focus away, onto anything else. Liam and Hayden are down the hall (in the kitchen, Theo guesses) talking. Talking about him.

( “This was such a stupid idea,” Liam repeats again, “he doesn’t even have their abilities anymore.”

“It was a good try, Li.” Hayden sighs, putting her hand on Liam’s shoulder as she rounds the kitchen counter to stand beside him, “We had no way of knowing, we had to take the chance.”

“Will you quit saying ‘we’? ” Liam growls, pulling away from her, “This was not our idea, it was mine. And it fucking sucked. ”

Hayden frowns, crossing her arms and glaring at her boyfriend, “We’ll wait until Scott and the others get back and go from there.” She says, with much less comfort than before. )

Theo focusses back to several loud bangs on the bathroom door (and that same awful dripdripdrip ).

“Can you hurry up and shower? We gotta feed you and drive to Scott’s so we know what the hell to do with you.” Liam yells through the door despite knowing Theo could hear him whispering if he was in the house next door.

“ Sorry. ” Theo mumbles, remembering he smells like shit and moving towards the shower against every wish his body has for him not to.

—

The Pathologist tosses Theo and Collin to the floor. Theo hits the floor on his ass, hissing in mild pain before it fades immediately. Beside him, Collin quivers, breathing way too quick for any single living being. Theo backs up with his hands until his back hits the slimy wall and he’s forced to watch as The Pathologist lifts up the other chimera again, grabbing him with one hand wrapped around his neck.

“Please,” Collin begs hoarsely, his legs kicking and his hands trying to pry away the mechanical hands around his windpipe.

Theo’s mouth opens but nothing comes out, nothing ever comes out. He used to try, to argue and fight. But now he’s learned, he knows to take it and let them scream or hit or pinch until they’ve deemed punishment over. He watches with wide eyes as Collin is once again tossed to the floor, clung hard enough to slide across the floor and land curled by Theo’s hip.

“Stop, stop!’ Theo yells as The Pathologist stalks closer. He sits up taller, tucking his knees under him as he tries to flick his claws out, “Stop, it wasn’t his fault!”

The Geneticist and The Surgeon stand under the arch-way and watch. The Surgeon's mask whirs robotically as he snaps his neck to look at Theo. One of his hands flexes into a fist and Theo realizes just how fucked he is. This is why he doesn’t fight back. This is why he doesn’t get attached. This is why he should’ve fucking said no when Collin offered to help him escape.

Theo’s throat feels dry, closing up as his own breathing finally speeds. The Surgeon moves slowly, almost casually, as he moves towards Theo. His eye-less mask stares into Theo’s eyes — almost into him as a person. He stops just in front of the chimera, bending down slightly so their faces are only inches apart.

He suddenly reaches out to grab Theo’s face in his hand harshly, “Are you fucking slow? ”

And Theo’s — Tara’s, he’s uncomfortably aware — heart fucking drops. None of The Doctors are ever inelegant with their words. They are concise and blunt and sometimes too intelligent for even Theo to understand. But they never curse at him.

There's something about the selected words. An implication of something behind them that Theo for the life of him can’t pick up. It makes him want to cry, to scream and kick. It makes him feel sick, as his throat continues to fail at swallowing and he feels bile building up that he chooses to swallow down.

The Surgeon pushes Theo’s head back as he lets go, slamming it into the concrete wall. He stands up straight again and turns to The Pathologist, nodding once. The Pathologist nods back, looking down at Theo for a moment before grabbing Collin’s body again — who had passed out the moment his body hit the floor.

Theo realizes too late what’s happening as The Pathologist gets his hands around the other chimera's head. He reaches out, crying, “ Wait—! ”

The Pathologist doesn’t listen as he twists Collins head and snaps his neck before dropping his limp body back to the floor.

—

The two of them stumble up to Liam’s bedroom tangled together, trying to shush each other as they bang their knees on corners and jam their fingers in doors knowing Jenna and David are dead asleep with shifts in a few hours. Liam manages to shut the door with his hip, holding Theos weight with an arm around his waist. He carefully leads Theo deeper into the room before letting go of his waist in favor of holding his hands.

He releases one to reach up and swipe hair out of Theo’s face, uncovering slowly healing cuts. His hand moves down gently until he’s cupping Theo’s cheek, making him look up at him rather than at his feet.

“I think it’ll be easier if we just shower.” He says softly, thumb running over the dried blood on Theo’s cheek.

Theo shakes his head quickly, eyes widening, “No— no, we can just use a washcloth, can’t we?”

Liam runs his thumb over Theo’s knuckles on the hand gripping his own, “There’s blood matted in your hair, baby. I can’t brush that out.”

Theo whines, pressing his face into Liam’s hand. His hands move shakily, coming up to loosely rest on Liam’s hips. His grip tightens, trying to keep himself from shaking — though he knows he’s failing and Liam can tell. His eyes burn and he knows that if he tried to open them they’d be teary and oh so pitiful.

“Theo—“ Liam tries, voice too tender for Theo’s liking.

“ Stop. ” He says, because he knows Liam will listen. He knows that Liam understands the word in every meaning of it. Because Liam is the only person who’s ever listened to him when he can barely form his own words, “I can’t, Li, I just can’t. ”

Liam frowns, both hands holding Theo’s face up, “It’ll be quick, I promise. I’ll be right here with you, whatever you need.” He leans Theo’s head down slightly to kiss his forehead, “I won’t let anything get you.”

Theo doesn’t have the heart to tell Liam (in every meaning of the word) that this isn’t some after-effect from fighting hunters. He’s not afraid someone with a gun is gonna pop out from behind the shower curtain and pump him full of bullets. It’s more so the damp feeling and cramped surroundings of the cold tile. The way the curtain swipes against Theo’s skin feels almost exactly like her hair and the water droplets that culminate against his back are the exact same as the ones down in the sewers.

But he can tell Liam’s trying and he doesn’t wanna ruin his little hero-alpha moment so he lets the beta hold him for a few minutes more.

—

Theo eats too much, that's what The Doctors tell him. Their shitty food supply cabinet is emptying quicker than they had prepped for. Because a man from the 1700s and his two fake humans assumed a scrawny nine year old could survive missing a few meals — should’ve been easier with coywolf features honestly, if he could do it living with his family he can do it now.

It’s a constant cycle of starving and binging, keeping himself busy with research rather than stuffing his mouth before remembering weeks later how good it feels to eat. He tries, really he does. And The Doctors are scary as shit, dark eye-less masks and concerningly robotic voices. But sometimes the way Theo’s stomach growls and claws and begs him in the middle of the night just has to win over the fear of being scalpel-ed on a metal table.

He gulps down four cans of soup before realizing what he’s doing. By the time his brain finally catches up with his stomach, he’s staring at small droplets of tomato on the floor and empty cans that he’s clawed open. Theo drops the one in his hand, — regrettably — it falling to the floor with a deafening crash, metal on slimy concrete. Suddenly, the soup in his stomach doesn’t really wanna be there anymore.

Theo can feel them behind him before he sees. He turns around slowly, shakily, holding his breath and closing his eyes before The Surgeon can make unsettling eye-contact.

The Surgeon’s mask clicks before his voice rises, “It seems you fail to understand basic instruction, Theo.”

“I’m sorry.” Theo trembles, lowering his head in submission.

“Your body must be in pristine condition in order for my tests to work.”

“I know.”

“Then why do you continue to fill yourself?” The Surgeon yells as much as he can in the monotone voice he wears, “Do you want your body to reject the transformation? All of our hard work, down the drain, and your body a useless vessel that would die in moments.”

Theo shivers at the thought, his body caving in on itself, becoming nothing but flesh and mercury like everyone else, “Sorry.” He repeats, unable to say anything else without spewing lunch all over his creators.

The Surgeon puts a heavy hand on Theo’s chest, just above the heart. He pushes Theo backwards, with little force but with Theo using every muscle to keep his stomach settled he falls to the ground anyways. He turns and leaves, suffocating Theo in anger and disappointment. Theo turns over, vomiting up the soup into a vaguely blood-like puddle.

He frowns and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The Geneticist stands in front of him. She crouches down slowly, crackling and buzzing as her body moves. Her hand goes to Theo’s shoulder.

“ Next time. ” She says, and nothing else. But Theo still can’t help but press up into her hand.

—

“She does this a lot.” Theo says calmly, staring at his mother, limp on the couch.

“That's— that’s not normal, T.” Stiles says, taking half a step closer to her before aborting and taking his place by Theo’s side.

Theo shrugs, “She’ll wake up soon enough.”

“It doesn’t look like she’s breathing.”

Theo swallows, ignoring the fact that he can feel Stiles staring at him without having to turn and look. Stiles takes his step forward. And then another. And a final one before he’s hovering over her body. He puts two fingers over her wrist.

He recoils just as fast, stumbling backwards hard enough for Theo to have to grab his arms and keep him steady.

“ Shit, fuck—” He covers his mouth with his hand, gagging, “Theo, she’s dead. ”

Somethings wrong, Theo knows. He’s always known. The older women at church always look down at him weirdly and the doctors always whisper things to his mother. He knows his stupid shitty heart should be beating quicker than it is now and he shouldn’t feel this calm.

Stiles shakes him out of his stupor, “My dad, Theo, we have to go get my dad.”

“ What? ” Theo blinks, shrugging Stiles hands off of his shoulders, “Why?”

“Theo, your mother is dead. My father is the sheriff. ”

So they leave. And they bring Sheriff Stilinski back to Theo’s house and show him the body. The deputies remove them from the premises swiftly, taking them down to the station and giving them hot chocolate while they wait to be questioned.

Theo gives all the information he knows though he’s sure he should be feeling something else. The deputies look at him like something tragic has happened, so why doesn’t he care?

“Where’s your dad, kid?” Sheriff asks gently, crouching in front of Theo and pressing a heavy hand to his shoulder.

“He left a few weeks ago, hasn’t returned yet.”

Stilinski frowns, looking back at one of the deputies typing on her computer. He turns back to Theo, “Your sister, she’s at practice today, right?”

Theo nods. Stilinski stands back up, turning around and signaling something to a deputy and grabbing keys off his desk. He leaves without another word. Stiles leans over, putting his arm around Theo like he’s grieving with him.

Stiles’ dad returns with Tara fifteen minutes later. She looks angry but her eyes are blood-shot and red-rimmed and Theo feels so utterly lost. She runs to her little brother, hugging him tightly like he’ll be the one in the ambulance next (though it wouldn’t be the first time).

They spend the night with the Stilinski’s, Tara in the guest bedroom and Theo on Stiles’ floor. He stares up at the ceiling with his hands crossed neatly over his stomach, listening to Stiles snore and re-running his day through his brain. Trying to figure out what went wrong.

He and his sister live with their grandfather for two weeks until their dad returns.

—

Theo grips the edge of the bathroom counter hard enough to hear it crack beneath his weight. He can feel Liam’s presence behind him and as much as he knows Liam wants to help, he just isn’t. Anchoring isn’t an exact science, Theo knows this. Though sometimes he wishes it just fucking was. He wishes that he could simply sit in the same general vicinity of Liam, taking in his scent or just staring into his eyes or some dumb shit until the stupid organ in his rib cage goes back to normal.

Instead, he feels like they’ve switched roles from the day in the locker room — when Theo stood and watched as Liam smashed Gabe’s face into the mirror above the sink. Liam’s hands flex helplessly at his sides, opening and closing over and over as Theo tries to steady his breathing. They’re standing in the dark, because by this point Liam’s figured out Theo’s aversion to the bathroom in general (and thinking about it in the moment honestly isn’t helping Theo in any way).

He wenches a hand off the counter and shakily moves to turn the tap on — warm water, only warm water. Theo cups his hands under the faucet and splashes his face a few times until he’s satisfied with how many breaths he can take without his whole upper-body rattling. He sighs, turning the water off and bending to rest his head over his crossed arms on the counter.

“Are you okay?” Liam asks quietly, almost whispering as he stares at Theo’s reflection in the mirror.

Theo lifts his head and rests his chin on his arms, staring back at Liam in the mirror, “Yeah—” He says, and then slightly less confidently, “No, I don’t know.”

Liam frowns, his fingers twitch, he takes half a step forward and then aborts the move and presses his back against the cold wall, “Can I touch you?”

Theo tenses, jaw locking as he continues to stare. He must take too long to answer because Liam re-assures quickly, “Not— Not like that… Just, like a hug or something.”

Theo pulls away from the counter slowly, rolling his shoulders back. He swallows, “Yeah.”

Liam moves forward slowly, stopping behind Theo and draping his body over him. His arms come up around Theo’s middle. He presses his cheek against Theo’s spine and keeps one hand on Theo’s belly. Theo leans back into it, tries to at least. As much as he can without wanting to simultaneously run away and melt into the floor.

—

They’re in bed, though Theo can’t quite remember how they got there. They were fighting, they were. But then somewhere between the living room downstairs and Liam’s room, Theo began crying. He’d begged Liam to hit him, hurt him, whatever he needed to do until he felt better.

He was angry, Liam’s always angry. Even when he isn’t, Theo can smell it. It sits beneath his skin, simmering in his veins until it’s allowed to be released into the world again. Until Liam starts to yell and kick and punch till he’s tired out and Theo gets to tuck him in.

But their fight went different and Liam looked almost appalled at the idea of Theo gearing himself up to have his lip split for the millionth time by someone who was meant to love him. 

That’s how love is meant to feel. It’s fists and blood and fighting, that’s what Theo wants — what he needs. Liam should get his hands around Theos throat, in any context as long as the chimera can feel bruises that’ll fade within the minute. He wants to feel the way everyone else experiences anger and pain and Liam is the closest thing that’s brought him to that point. Love is a touch that makes his skin feel like it’ll burn around the bone.

“What do you want, Theo?” He asks, staring at Theo with too much space between them. So much space that Theo feels he could never even begin to feel it with the things he ‘wanted’.

Theo doesn’t get to want. He never has. Wanting is a privilege that was taken from him the moment he was pushed out of his mothers vagina.

“ This. ” He answers, and then in the same breath because it means the same thing, “ You. ”

Liam’s eyes glance down briefly. He shakes his head minutely, “You’re lying.”

He stands up, the mattress creeks, and Theo hears the sob that claws up through his throat before he feels the hot tears that run down his face.

“Are you leaving?” He asks, pathetically.

“No, Theo, I’m not.” Liam assures, — too far away to touch, to hold, to comfort Theo in any way other than with words — looking down before bending over and picking up his shirt, “I’m gonna put my clothes on. And I’m gonna get a hot washcloth, and then we’re gonna go to bed.”

And he leaves — not forever, Theo needs to remind himself. He can see the faint glow from the bathroom light down the hall. The way he wishes he’d held on to Liam with all his strength rather than letting him leave for two goddamn minutes makes Theo feel fucking miserable.

But he returns, just as promised, with the wet cloth he cleans Theo with so fucking gently. He pushes hair out of Theo’s face and kisses his forehead when he whines in a high-pitched, needy manner. Liam man-handles Theo until they’re both laying down, under the covers with tangled limbs.

“Do you like me?” Theo asks, because he needs to know. He needs to make sure he completely understands what he’s getting himself into and what Liam thinks and how Liam wants him to feel and how Liam—

“I love you very much, Theo.” He answers, pressing another kiss to his damp forehead.

Theo shakes his head, “I didn’t ask if you loved me. I asked if you liked me.”

Liam stares at him like he’s asked the most insane question ever — though Theo would argue he’s said way more insane things at way worse times. His mouth stays open but nothing comes out. Theo waits, he tries to at least. Because he’d wait any amount of time for Liam even if it’s continuously making him feel worse the longer the silence stretches out. But the way Liam is staring at him has him swallowing hard and wishing he understood social cues a little better.

He licks his lips, “I like every aspect about you, Theo. I think we’re doing what’s right and I think I’m sorry you think love is attached to physical pain because it shouldn’t be.”

Theo nods, he lets Liam kiss his forehead for a third time, and he lets Liam pull him closer as the two of them nod off — though he’ll keep his non-understanding to himself simply because he knows he’ll never think the way Liam does.

—

Theo watches from the couch as his mother yells at whoever she’s on the phone with. He leans over the back with hands pushing him as far as he can go without falling off. His mother paces back and forth, her free arm waving wildly as she argues with who Theo’s pretty sure is one of his doctors.

He could hear her from down the hall in his room, putting together a puzzle before the floor had shook with how hard she’d slammed the front door coming back from dropping off Tara at practice. The bottom half of his face is covered by the couch cushions, trying to make himself smaller than he is already, keeping out of his mothers angry vision. He knows what it’s like to be on the end of her fits. And he knows that the hospitals are a sensitive subject for anyone in the house — though he doesn’t quite get why when he’s the one who has to endure weekly check-ups and overnight stays. Him, not Tara, not his mother, he does.

She groans and ends the call, tossing her phone onto the table and reaching up to pull at her hair. Her eyes are clenched shut and Theo can see her chest rising and falling as she tries to calm down. Theo slides off the couch and hobbles over to her slowly, tentatively.

He tugs on her shirt, she looks down at him, “ What? ” She hisses, her arms going back down to her sides and pushing Theo away.

“Am I dying?” Theo asks, quiet as his lower lip trembles no matter how God damn hard he tries not to seem weak in front of her.

His mothers eyebrows curve into a V, like she’s appalled Theo would even think about asking her that. Like he’s a fucking idiot for being young and naive and not understanding why the God he’s supposed to put his trust into — the man who seems to do everything for a reason , have a plan for every human — has given him this shitty, failing body.

“ Obviously. ” She answers, like it was someone asking what she wanted for dinner. Like it was her saying ‘I do’ at her wedding or ‘thank you’ to a compliment.

Death is a foreign concept to Theo, he’s seven. But Tara blames him all the time for their family’s lack of wealth and says she wishes he’d die quicker. And he knows the get well cards he receives from classmates when asthma attacks send him to the emergency room are because they wait with baited breath to see if he’ll come back in a few days. The old ladies at the church sigh, ‘bless him’ under their breath as his mother asks for an extra prayer to help get her through the night.

So Theo would say he understands death on a basic level, he understands it’s bad and long-term and painful in most cases.

(He knows he doesn’t particularly want it to happen.)

“ Oh, ” He says, mostly in reaction to the lack of comfort his mother provides — because, yeah she’s in a constant bitchy state but she could at least try to have some fucking compassion for her sick child. And he tries not to cry, quickly bringing his hands up to wipe continuously at his eyes as tears continue forming over and over.

His mother scoffs and rolls her eyes before leaving the kitchen. Theo sits at the table and sniffles silently into his own arms.

—

Theo cradles his mug in his hands gingerly as Liam settles down beside him. He’d begged Theo to sit with him and watch Halloween movies with him while Jenna and David were gone. Semi-reluctantly, Theo agreed. Mostly, to Liam at least, because he got tired of arguing. Though he liked sitting with Liam on the couch, their thighs pressed closely together, Liam subconsciously reaching out for Theo at every jumpscare.

“This movie used to scare the shit out of me as a kid.” Liam laughs quietly as he starts their next movie. Coraline, Theo thinks, though he’s mostly been in and out for the last few hours. He likes the way Liam’s voice sounds when he gets passionate though. Something about it is like an adult lullaby for the chimera. Liam turns back to Theo, smiling, “What about you? Any childhood scary movies?”

Theo hums tiredly, taking a sip of his hot-chocolate, “I don’t remember watching a lot when I was a kid.”

Liam frowns, “Strict parents, huh?”

“Probably… Mom was a bitch.” Theo grumbles, “I don’t have a whole lot of whole memories though.” He says casually, taking another sip and leaning forward to put his mug down on the coffee table.

Liam’s eyebrow quirks up as he stares at Theo, like he’s trying to look inside him to figure something out. He presses forward a little as he turns his body towards Theo, trying to get closer in the least subtle way ever.

“ What? ” Theo asks, annoyed that Liam paused the movie before it even had the chance to start.

“Did you push her?” He asks, confidently like he’s asking Theo his favorite color.

Theo freezes, staring at Liam in dead silence. He feels cold again. His mouth opens and closes over and over as he tries to make a single word come out rather than broken noises that die before they reach his tongue.

“ Why—? ” He swallows, “Why would you ask that? Are you sick in the head?” Theo hisses, defense mechanisms coming right back after being slightly vulnerable for too long — his own fault.

Liam frowns again, shaking his head, “Sorry, I just— Clearly you’ve got memory issues and I know a big thing when you came back, at least with Stiles, was whether or not you pushed T— her. And you’ve never really talked about it, so I just thought—”

“Oh my God, stop.” Theo cuts off Liam’s ramble, “ Jesus, your explanation was worse than the question.”

“Sorry.” Liam mutters, leaning back into the couch.

He scoots back, away from Theo, and un-pauses the movie again. The two sit in silence for the rest of the movie and Theo misses the warmth of the beta pressed against his side. Theo doesn’t even try to pay attention to the next movie Liam starts. He keeps his peripherals trained on every movement Liam makes, jumping at scares and pressing himself deeper into the couch the scarier the film gets.

Theo caves, scooting closer to Liam and pressing their thighs together. Liam caves second, plastering himself to Theo’s side and pressing his cheek against his upper-arm. Theo yawns when the movie ends, leaning more into Liam as he rubs his cheek against Theo’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, by the way.” Theo says quietly as the two stare at the ‘Are you still watching?’ flickering on the TV screen, “About Tara. I don’t know what happened anymore.”

He lifts a hand up to his chest, scratching faintly — three times — at his sternum. Liam turns his head up to look at Theo. He places a hand on Theo’s thigh, tapping three times with his fore-finger.

“Everything pre-transition is so fuzzy, I just… I don’t know.” Theo whispers, “I barely remember her voice, her face. She’s older in my dreams, like she’s been waiting for me.”

Liam’s hand moves from his thigh, closing around Theo’s hand, “It’s yours.” He says, like it’s nothing.

Like he’s answering a question in history, or scoring a goal on the field. He says it like ‘I love you’. Theo rests his head on Liams, ‘I love you too’ he means.

—

Las Vegas is louder and brighter than Theo was led to believe. He’s there for a mission, he has a job to do. The Doctors needed a wolf, some new experiment they wanted to try. Theo had offered, begged even, to be the subject — to prove his strength. They turned him down, The Geneticist had said it was because he was precious. Something they had almost perfected, she didn’t want something to backfire and ruin their perfect subject.

He believed her.

Neon lights, the cacophony of slot machines, and the swirling scents of food and cigarette smoke had assaulted his senses the moment he’d made it to the strip. Letting a fifteen year old out on the town, said town being Las fucking Vegas maybe was not The Doctors smartest move. But Theo had been determined to complete their project, appease them if only for a moment.

The bright lights were making his head ache, and loud noises grating on his nerves. He swears he can smell every single fucking person within the city as he tries to walk non-chalantly through crowds of drunk men that brush against his entire side and prostitutes that wink at him despite clearly being underaged. Despite the sensory onslaught, he continues on, looking for the wolf he’s supposed to bring back to the hotel.

The Doctors had told him by ‘any means’, The Pathologist using a weirdly human tone Theo’s never heard from him. Theo, unfortunately, knows what they meant. He knows Vegas and he knows horny teenagers and he knows seduction. So he makes it to the casino-theater monstrosity combination and walks in like he’s there to see a film, keeping his eyes (and nose) out for his victim.

An arm around the waist and some whispers in his ear get the wolf’s attention quick enough. Theo keeps his tone quiet and gravely, keeping his ears locked on the wolf’s heartbeat and his nose locked on his chemo-signals. He tries, really he does. But God the casino smells like shit and the wolf just keeps pressing closer as Theo tries to pull back and everything just feels like so much. He continues trying to back away from the wolf, taking one too many steps and walking into one of the women carrying trays full of drinks. She trips and drops the tray, glasses shattering and spilling alcoholic mixes all over the carpet. Theo whimpers and covers his ears.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes quickly, watching as the woman stares in anger at the puddle on the floor.

Theo turns back to the wolf who has now disappeared. 

Fuck.

Security starts barreling in from another direction and Theo decides he needs to get the fuck out now. He backtracks quickly and runs out one of the side doors, through the alley and down the street until he’s decided he’s far enough to start walking and breathing properly again. The flashing signs and loud music from clubs he passes by feel suffocating as he tries to wrack his brain for an excuse to give to The Doctors when he gets back.

Overwhelmed and defeated and utterly fucked, he retreats back to the run-down hotel room. When he enters the dimly lit space, his breathing is rapid, tears welling up in his eyes as he claws at his face to make it stop . He desperately tries to regain his composure — failure is not an option. The Dread Doctors expected results, not excuses. But God, his whole body feels like it’s on fire.

“Theo Raeken, one job." The Surgeon's voice was a harsh echo in the small room, “We gave you one job. Failure. ”

Theo takes a shuddering breath, “I’m not, I was so close, I just— Everything is too much, and I can’t…”

The Surgeon’s hand comes up, silencing him, “Enough.”

The other two doctors watch silently, their expressions obscured by their masks. Theo feels the crushing weight of shame and humiliation as he stands there, trying not to cry. It hurts in his lungs, like his body’s fighting back. Though it’s different from the feeling of his asthma attacks. It’s something sharper. They leave, one by one, leaving the room and Theo. The Geneticist shakes her head at him as she closes the door — Theo crumbles into the itchy sheets on his bed and sobs.

That night, The Geneticist cups his cheek with a cold hand in his sleep. He sees her in the void of dream, listening to her mechanical voice as she tells him how good he is, how it was a simple mistake.

—

Liam’s mom is a sweet woman. She gives Theo the tightest hug he’s maybe ever received in his life (which isn’t a battle between many but it’s enough ) the first time Liam brings him home and she tries to make his favorite meals whenever he comes over. Theo’s pretty sure she would’ve gotten on her hands and knees in the doorway to begged Theo to start calling her ‘Jenna’ rather than ‘Mrs. Geyer’ if Liam hadn’t pushed him out the front door towards his truck.

She gets excited the more Theo starts to come over, which seems stupid to Theo because it’s not like her son just made his first ever friend. He has Mason and Corey, they come over often enough and Theo knows Mason likes hearing Jenna talk about white women town gossip. But Theos never really had a proper familiar relationship so he files this under the list of things he’ll never understand because he missed it and moves on. Besides, he likes watching Jenna humming as she moves around the kitchen, combined smells of whatever she’s making and her own happiness reaching Theo’s nose no matter what room he’s in.

He’d never tell Liam how much his mom actually means to him — Liam doesn’t need to know the weird prickly feeling Theo feels when Jenna puts her hand on the small of his back, mumbling a quick ‘excuse me’ as she moves past him to grab an ingredient from the fridge.

“You make him really happy, I think.” Jenna says off-handedly as she cuts vegetables with her back turned to Theo.

Theo tenses in his seat at the island. He folds his hands in his lap and continues to stare at the back of her head, “Liam?”

“Mhm,” Jenna turns her head to smile at him before turning back to her soup, “he seems a lot more open since you’ve come around.”

Theo knows Liam told her parents about the supernatural stuff, though he’s not sure the extent of his own background she’s been informed of. He won’t burst the bubble and tell her how God awful he is and that is a genuine privilege to be sitting there in the moment.

“He makes me happy too.” He mumbles instead, looking down at his fingers. Theo continues to watch Jenna work on dinner, biting his tongue as his fingers twitch, itching to reach out. To touch, to offer help or work or service.

Jenna turns and wipes her hands on her apron, “Could you get the bread from the freezer.” She points in the general direction of the garage with a small pleading look.

Theo’s out of his seat immediately, nodding and speed walking towards the door. He walks out into the cold garage and stops at the middle-class, second fridge the Dunbar-Geyer’s have, opening the freezer to grab the box of frozen garlic bread and running back inside. He puts the box down on the counter by the stove and nods to Jenna, pressing his lips together.

She smiles up at him and claps her hands together, “Thank you so much, honey.”

She leans forward and quickly wraps her arms around Theo’s neck, standing on her tiptoes. Theo freezes, his hands coming up and stopping before he can touch her — a heavy feeling burns in the pit of his gut. Yeah, she initiated the hug, but Theo needs permission. He needs—

“You can hug me back, T.” She giggles.

He tentatively puts his arms around her waist and keeps his rigid stance until she pulls away first. Jenna reaches up to ruffle his hair and give him a lop-sided smile.

“We’ll get there one day.” She says before going back to making dinner.

Theo thinks he does a good job hiding it. He doesn’t touch Jenna unless explicitly stated he’s allowed to, he speaks curtly when spoken to and keeps eye-contact. By all previous rules he’s been taught, this should be correct. 

(He was wrong ).

Liam gently closes the door behind him, turning around with his hands awkwardly pressed together in front of him as he stares at Theo on his bed. Theo looks up from his phone.

“What’s up?” He asks, eyebrow raised as he sets his phone down.

Liam’s mouth opens, and then closes. And then opens again, he takes a short breath, “Are you sexually attracted to mom?”

“ What? ” Theo chokes, deadpan with his eyes squinted.

“You— Do you wanna fuck mom or something?” Liam takes a step towards the bed, Theo straightens his posture, “It’s just, you keep staring at her n’shit and it’s kinda starting to freak her out a little.”

A shiver runs down Theo’s spine. He’d imagine if he were a dog, in the moment his ears and tail would be down. But this is real life where he has to be a real human.

He takes too long to answer because Liam is suddenly trying to backtrack as comfortingly as possible. He puts his hands up like he’s showing innocence — like Theo is a dog — and takes a few more steps forward.

“You’re not in trouble or anything, I just wanna know what’s going on so everyone feels safe. ”

Theo’s breathing speeds up and he presses the palm of his hand over his mouth. He’s shaking, he can tell, though he isn’t sure if he needs to get the fuck out or have someone hold him down — he decides the former. He pushes himself up with his other hand and wobbles on his legs.

“I— I can leave, I’m sorry.” He says, staring at Liam, hand still covering his mouth.

Liam’s eyes widen a little in panic and he frowns, “Hey wait, we’re not mad. We just wanna know what’s going on. Cause you don’t really do this sort of thing with anyone else and we just—”

“ I’m sorry. ” Theo repeats, pushing past Liam and moving towards the door, “I’ll go, for as long as you want me to be. I’m so sorry.”

“Theo, stop.” Liam gets to him before he can get to the door. He carefully — ever so fucking gently, so God damn tender — puts a hand on Theo’s hip. He squeezes slightly and Theo turns immediately, though he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the other wolf. Liam’s other hand goes up to his cheek, “Look at me, please. ”

He does, opening his eyes slowly and looking down at Liam with a clenched jaw and burning eyes, “I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“For what, T.” Liam asks quietly.

Theo shrugs, “For what I did. For being weird and freaking out Jenna and—”

Liam runs his thumb over the hill of Theo’s cheek, he quiets immediately, “You’re spiraling. I told you we aren’t mad. Mom just wanted to make sure she wasn’t like— triggering you or something.”

Theo shakes his head immediately, pulling away from Liam’s touch inadvertently which he immediately regrets, “No, that’s not— I don’t want her to blame herself.”

Liam’s hands go up again, “ Okay, that’s okay. We’ll figure it out, okay? ”

Theo nods.

—

The steps creak under Theo’s weight as he slowly enters the basement. Liam is arguing with Scott, has been for the last thirty minutes. Derek had been down here, arms crossed and face hard as he argued way less comfortingly than Scott had. He’d given up, coming to grab Theo when he couldn’t find Mason and was tired of Scott’s gentle-parenting.

Liam turns around, ignoring the same four awful comforts his alpha has been repeating under Liam’s snarls and sobs. He looks up at Theo as he stands at the bottom of the staircase, his arms crossed.

“ Theo, ” He sobs, taking two steps forwards before falling into Theo’s arms and wrapping his own around Theo’s torso.

Theo grabs Liam’s forearms to keep them steady as a unit. He looks up past Liam’s shoulders to Scott, pressing his lips together as Liam’s face presses into his chest. Scott nods and walks around them, going back to the main floor and shutting the door behind him.

“She got away,” Liam rasps, trying to get out a single coherent explanation between hiccupped breaths and deep sobs that shake his shoulders, “Monroe. They just let her— She’s still—”

“ I know. ” Theo whispers, a failed comfort as he releases one of the beta’s arms to card his clammy fingers through Liam’s knotted hair, “I know.”

He lets Liam hold on to him a little longer before deciding they’re both too tired to continue holding each other up like this. Theo tries to maneuver Liam in his arms, letting go of his other arm and pulling away slightly before Liam grasps tighter and whimpers like Theo’s abandoning him.

(He isn’t and never would. )

“Li, I gotta sit down.” He rolls his shoulder slightly, wincing at residual pain from his slower healing, “My shoulder— I can’t hold your weight like this.”

Liam huffs, presses his nose a little harder into Theo’s ribcage before pulling away and yawning. He pulls an arm away to rub at his eyes though he keeps his other hand fisted in the back of Theo’s shirt.

“Monroe’s still out there.” He says, quiet and upset and it makes Theo hurt.

“I know.” He repeats, “But we can’t just go out there, okay? We gotta plan and work together.”

Liam nods, frown still prominent though less rough. Theo moves a hand to his jaw and rubs his thumb over Liam’s cheek.

“ Sleep, yeah?”

Liam nods again, “Sleep.”

—

Argent finds Monroe’s whereabouts through poorly hushed whispers between two old white women that glare at him in the grocery store. A pack meeting (plus Peter and Theo though Liam spent the whole drive trying to convince Theo he was pack) is called immediately to Scott’s house. She’s somewhere in Vegas, hidden between strip-clubs and casinos with hunters planted in every single building. She’s there for a specific pack, Scott assumes. He and Stiles have met them a few times, a little touchy but still functioning as a whole.

“So it’s simple, yeah?” Malia says, leaning off the table where the map is rolled out and crossing her arms, “We go to Vegas, we find her, we kill her.”

“We don’t kill.” Scott corrects, “But we will track her and find her.”

Theo scoffs, “And do what with her exactly? No offense, Scotty-Boy, but locking her up won’t do much.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to agree with Theo.” Peter raises a hand, “I mean— you tried that with me, and look where we are now.”

Scott frowns, looking at Peter and then back to Theo, “We don’t kill.” He repeats.

Theo rolls his eyes and presses his lips together but he gives up arguing. Judging by the way Liam’s hand is clasped around his wrist in a loose grip, the beta isn’t really looking to break up a fight between Theo and his alpha right now.

Three vehicles are driven to Vegas despite Argent’s insistence that they need to stay on the low. Theo, Liam, Corey, and Mason take the truck. Scott, Stiles, and Malia take the Jeep. And Argent takes his SUV with Lydia and Peter. The streets are just as loud and right as Theo had been expecting — as is the throbbing headache he ends up with.

Five motel rooms are booked, two to each one. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Theo and Liam are roomed together. The first night, everyone sleeps (or at least tries to in Theo’s case). Second night consists of Corey and Mason undercover back up on the dance floor while Theo and Stiles are put on interrogation duty. The hunters set up in the club they’re at don’t know anything other than wolves, not having enough time to be trained before Monroe fled California. Why Theo was grouped in, he has no idea, though he assumes it has something to do with the death wish Stiles has cast upon him.

They get little to no information, continuing this plan for at least two more nights and coming home each time with very little. At the end of each night, all Theo’s left with is a blanketed smell from uncomfortably touchy drunk men and intense feelings of nausea. He goes back to his room the fourth night, ready to shower and possibly sit on the grimey tiled floor to cry. Instead, Liam is home — earlier than expected because he’d been so excited to go on the High Roller with Mason and Corey.

Theo freezes as he closes the door slowly behind him. He means to say hi, greet his temporary roommate, ask how his night was, literally anything else. Instead, he breathes out like he’s been punched in the gut, “You’re wearing my hoodie.”

Liam looks down at himself, and then back at Theo, “Damn.” He points behind him with his thumb, “Our bags kinda got mixed, sorry.”

Theo response is a very eloquent, “ Uh..”

“I can wash it before I give it back.”

“ Don’t. ” Theo says, quicker than he means to and more pathetic than he’d planned.

“Don’t what?” Liam asks.

“Don’t…” Theo swallows, finishing his sentence quieter, “ wash it. ”

Liam’s eyebrows raise, only slightly and just for a moment before he fixes his expression. He nods slowly, smiling softly, “ Okay. ”

He pulls the sleeves of the hoodie over his hands and rubs the fabric against his wrists — against his pulse points. Theo watches intently, a whine breaking in the back of his throat before he excuses himself to the bathroom and locks himself in until he hears Liam go to bed.

The plan changes after three nights of nothing moving any quicker. Lydia and Malia go on seduction duty (against both of their wills) while Argent and Scott sneak through the back to talk to the owner of the club. Liam and Theo are set out front of watch.

Theo groans, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes and rubbing intensely.

“You okay?” Liam asks, looking up at Theo with a gross sense of concern.

“ Hurts. ” Theo grunts, not a full sentence — mildly embarrassing for someone who should be turning nineteen soon. But he can’t manage to form anything close to a full sentence in his head, let alone out-loud, “S’too loud here.”

Liam takes the few steps between them to put a hand on Theo’s shoulder, “The music?”

“ Everything. ” Theo growls, though he doesn’t mean to. The music, the lights, the smells. Vegas is like if someone asked Theo what he least likes about public spaces and then threw his answer into a blender and dumped it into a physical manifestation of overwhelming. Which honestly makes it worse, because Theo Raeken is strong and cunning and independent and should not be whimpering and whining over a migraine. Everything feels too much all at once and honestly all he wants is to be curled up in Liam’s bed, Liam’s scent, Liam’s home.

—

“Why don’t you eat more?” His mother asks one night, sitting across from her children at the dinner table.

They’re eating rice and microwaved potatoes, both cold for a number of reasons though mostly from the fact that their microwave left the middle of the potatoes still frozen and they’ve been sitting at the table in uncomfortable silence for well over an hour. Theo looks over to see Tara’s reaction out of the corner of his eye. Her fists are clenched in the ratty table-cloth their grandmother knitted before she’d died. He wants to move, reach out and help her or get up and run — neither happens, he stays in place out of fear for what their mother will do or say next.

“Speak when spoken to, Tara.” She drops her fork loudly against her empty ceramic plate, “I told you we weren’t leaving until you finished your dinner.”

“I’m not eating this shit.” Tara mutters, looking down at her lap as she forces her hands to let go of the cloth and drop down against her thighs.

“ What did you just say?”

Shit.

Theo knows this tone, he’s been on the other side of it many times. He sort of hates Tara in the moment, hating the way she fights back instead of just taking what their mother says. It’s so easy to sit and nod with bullshit hums and a measly ‘yes ma'am’. Because at least eventually you’ll get excused and you can go hide somewhere else while mommy drowns her sorrows sorting through the medicine cabinet.

But Tara doesn’t like losing. She isn’t happy when Theo beats her at jacks and she isn’t happy when their mother manages to convince her teacher the bruise on her wrist was from volley-ball rather than an iron-tight grip she’d used in broad daylight at the grocery store.

“Finish your rice or starve. ” She says, voice tight and strained as she licks her red lipstick-stained lips.

Tara’s chair screeches loudly as she stands up, “Then I guess I’ll starve.”

She turns around without another word and goes back to her room, slamming the door shut. Their mother scoffs as she stands up and takes Tara’s plate as well as her own, turning around to scrape the food into the garbage and drop the dishes in the sink.

“ Bitchy pre-teens. ” She mutters under her breath, shaking her head.

Theo bites his lip as he feels a cough coming, not wanting to anger his mother anymore. Though watching her and Tara fight and hearing them yell tends to raise anxiety and anxiety almost always starts asthma attacks — not being able to breath with the knot that forms in his throat.

It happens anyways, despite his best efforts. He quickly covers his mouth with his elbow as the coughing fit begins. His mother turns around and frowns at him, at his full plate.

She sighs, “You’re dismissed. Go find your inhaler.”

Theo runs to his room immediately, passing by Tara’s door and hearing her carving into her wall (he hears it better when he gets to his room, from where their closets are connected).

—

Tara hates Theo, he knows. She’s very open about it. And of course his parents do nothing about it because in all honesty none of them like each other. It’s a vicious cycle of family hate Theo wishes every night he could break out of.

But she just happens to hate their mother a little more, there’s too much of her DNA within Tara. Theo can tell she sees it when she gets angry, or in the mornings when she brushes her hair and she stares in the mirror for a little too long. She’s always told she’s their mother’s mini-me, and she growls every time.

Sometimes, she tries to let Theo in. They sit on her bed with the lights off and the blue lava lamp on her side-table turned on. Tara tries to strike conversations, talking about how middle-school is different from elementary and when Theo gets there it’ll be way harder for him — because no matter what, she can’t stop herself from making digs at Theo’s learning (like mother, like daughter). She talks about her stupid girl gossip Theo doesn’t care about and when she tries to ask him about Stiles and Scott she immediately remembers she hated them and shuts down the talk soon after.

Theo wishes she’d stop trying, because she could run away a million times and no matter how much she tries to remind herself she’s supposed to be an older sister, she’d never take Theo with her. He’s learned to accept it, Tara deserves the freedom more than him anyway.

She breaks his nose one night. It’s a complete accident, Theo knows. He knows because technically, it was his fault. He’d walked in without knocking. Her fight or flight kicked in — Tara hits hard (like mother, like daughter). Her knuckles made contact the moment Theo stopped through the door.

Of course, she immediately realizes what she’s done, her hands flying up to her mouth in shock.

“ Crap, Theo—” Her hands fumble between her own face and his, trying to figure out what to do to fix it, “ Fuck, okay, we can fix this. I’m sorry, okay? Hey, I’m sorry. You’re okay.”

She continues spewing panicked assurances Theo assumes are more for her than him. He stands frozen as he watches his sister try to stop the bleeding. Her hands come up with a towel she grabs from the ground, trying to keep anymore blood from dripping on the hardwood floors of their shitty rented home.

“ God, don’t tell mom. Please, don’t tell mom.” She begs. And it’s the first time Theo thinks he’s ever heard Tara refer to her as that — mom. It sounds too foreign to his ears, too soft.

She isn’t mom. Mom tucks her kids into bed and shows up to their volleyball games. Mom doesn’t try to cry at you when you’re upset, switching the victim in the situation. Their mother is barely a mother. She is the womb that held them for nine months while still smoking. She is skin that became half of them. Her bad parts are their bad parts.

And suddenly, Theo remembers what she's like. What it’s like to get in trouble, to be punished. And he tries to remember the last time his sister had to experience that. The last time she was berated for pouring too much milk into her cereal or told she was being too annoying while having a coughing fit.

He grins, beneath Tara's shaking hands trying to help her baby brother, he grins. His teeth are covered in blood and he watches the color drain from Tara’s face. Her hands pull away from Theo’s face.

“ Theo—”

He runs down the hall, quicker than he’s ever run in his life. He runs down the hall and to the kitchen, his lungs burning as his feet hit the floor over and over and over until he's standing by the table. He coughs, hacking up blood and saliva and forces himself to cry a little harder. He sobs, repeating ‘mom’ like it’s a mantra.

His mother panics as she sees the blood running down her son's face. She stands up out of her chair quickly, moving to grab Theo’s face between her two hands with a cigarette still held in her fingers.

Tara gets to the kitchen too late.

“Tara Elizabeth Raeken.” Their mother yells, looking past Theo to her own reflection, standing in fear in her Little Mermaid pjs and her unbrushed, Saturday morning hair.

“I didn’t—”

“You are in so much trouble, young lady.” She takes a drag of her cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray on the table and points to the landline phone in the living room, “You call your father, I am driving your poor baby brother to the hospital.”

Tara’s voice breaks in defeat, “Yes ma’am.”

—

Melissa moves around frantically as she rips open the packaging for plastic gloves. Liam puts a hand on Theo’s forehead, the other on his chest to keep him semi-still as he writhes in pain. He pushes the hair back from Theo’s sweaty forehead and leans forward to press his lips against his temple.

He takes Theo’s pain for half a second before Theo jerks his head away, “ Stop, you can’t—”

“Theo, please. ” Liam begs, “You’re in so much pain, you’re not gonna be able to heal.”

The chimera shakes his head erratically, adamantly “I’m fine. Melissa, hurry up.”

Scott’s mother turns with the tweezers she just held over a flame in her hand, “Theo, honey, this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“ See? ” Liam says desperately, “Either you let me take your pain or we have to give you painkillers.”

Theo’s body stills, a shiver shooting down his spine at the mention of the pills. His hands shake as he grabs Liam’s hands, squeezing tightly as he chokes on his own memories.

“ No! ” He resists immediately, his vision blurring from combined blood-loss and tears, “No, no painkillers, you can’t— I can’t—”

Liam soothes him quickly, shushing him as he brushes his fingers through Theo’s curls, “Okay baby, then I need to take your pain.”

Theo nods slowly, reluctantly, as Liam moves a hand up to cup his cheek. He assumes it’s so Theo will keep his eyes trained on him rather than Melissa digging into his stomach. But he’ll pretend it’s so Liam’s got an easier angle as he presses their foreheads together.

Liam presses a kiss to the tip of Theo’s nose before moving up to leech pain from his forehead.

—

Theo’s birthday party is less than perfect in Liam’s eyes. He vomits up the cake after a several minute long panic attack, followed by Scott insisting they look at childhood photos (triggering a second, slightly shorter episode). And to top it all off, it rains.

Everyone filed out into their cars and back to their homes after Liam all but begged them. Stiles however, Stiles stayed — for reasons unknown to both Theo and Liam though it’s the only time he’s ever sat in the same room as the chimera without dicking around. Theo sits on the window sill of the living room, staring out at the rain pouring down onto the streets as if he’s been banished from leaving the house.

Some days, that’s what it feels like. Like society has shunned him (more than already done). Not as if the public hates him for the numerous crimes he's committed before even becoming a legal adult. He’s always felt this way, even before The Doctors or Scott. Society wasn’t made for someone like Theo, someone whose social values differ from most others. Someone who couldn’t tell you how to preheat an oven but is fully capable of listing every bone in the body in alphabetical order in under a minute.

Rain traps him. The water, too cold and wet to feel anywhere close to safety and home. It’s all the same, freezing, soggy surroundings and bright lights send him down the same spiral every time. So he sits and watches Liam’s neighbors, a brother and sister who can’t be older than nine splash in puddles in their yard while their father watches.

“The hell is he doing?” Stiles loudly whispers to Liam, crossing his arms and leaning over the couch, “He looks like a kid grounded on Christmas. Like we’re holding him hostage or something.”

Liam shrugs, “He doesn’t like the rain. Says it makes his skin hurt.”

Stiles’ face scrunches up, “What? Like— fibromyalgia? My mom used to complain about it a lot.”

Theo doesn’t need to turn around to know the face Liam is directing towards Stiles, the same one he makes every time Theo suggests something even mildly out of character. The one where his eyes crinkle a little in the corners and his mouth hangs open slightly like he feels whoever he’s speaking to just dropped several IQ levels. Liam just presses his lips together and shakes his head.

The two watch Theo as he watches the rain and Theo feels kinda bad. Because as far as Liam thinks, he’s just absolutely ruined Theo’s birthday simply by feeding him sugar. But as far as Theo’s concerned, Liam’s just given him the best birthday he’s had since he turned six. Just because he was there.