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It’s been a long year since Monroe ran out of town. Theo believes it has taken him that entire time to process those . . . events.
For a few reasons.
One, was adjusting to life without being in a constant state of fear. No one hunts him anymore. He lives in a studio apartment downtown where it gets too quiet at night. Or at least he thinks so. It took him months to get used to the sound of nothing. He has a job at the movie theater. Beacon Hills AMC on Bush Ave. He doesn’t pay any insurance on his car, so he mostly uses his paycheck for bills. Maybe new clothes if he needs it, laundry change, and food. He also had two car washes. You’d probably assume he’s bored out of his mind. But it's a nice change of pace. He gets to decide how the day ends.
He doesn’t have to die at the end of it.
He’d say for the first week after Monroe left, when he still slept in his car, was miserable. He was mentally exhausted and ready to give up.
Then Liam called.
-
“Hi,” Liam greets, somewhat happily.
“Hi…?” Theo returns, with a confused look on his face, half scared, half intrigued. You don’t see a guy for a week after he tries everything in his power to keep you safe and he gets hi? It was pretty late at that. His voice was groggy and his body felt numb.
“What’re you doing?”
“What are you doing?” Theo asks, accusingly. It was kinda pissing him off that he thinks he can just-
“You can’t just keep repeating what I say,” Liam says. And Theo can see his frown (pout) from miles away.
He sighs. “I’m trying to sleep. Is something wrong?”
“Yes.” Theo’s breath hitches up, and his heart pitter-patters in his chest, off-beat. Liam continues, “Not with me or Monroe or anything, Jesus Theo.”
“How can you hear me through the phone?” Theo grumbles, calming. “What’s wrong then?”
“You haven’t called or texted.”
“Neither have you.”
“You’re sleeping in your car in a parking lot.” It wasn’t a question.
“And?”
“Come over.”
“N-”
Liam quickly interrupts, “And before you say no, I have a made-up couch, free food, and you do not need to pay me back. I will leave you alone, I just don’t think you should be out by yourself right now.”
Theo yearns. He’s soft now, he’s not the man he was a year ago. He craves normal things, a home, a family, tender kindness. Things Liam has–things he’s offering. In a way, he’s always wanted that. This time it’s not tainted by evil. He wasn’t after power. Power meant nothing in the world he lives in now. Which is reality. Huge culture shock he’d say.
“Sure,” he says not so casually. “Why not?”
He climbs in the front seat and turns the car over.
“I’ll see you soon,” Liam says. Theo can hear the eagerness through the phone.
-
Two, he had to get used to having a friend.
You could say Liam’s more than a friend. They’re bonded differently. It’s different from Liam’s friendship with Mason.
But, they never talk about that. Theo, himself, thinks about it all the time. He tries not to. It’s hard to start taking kindness for what it was. And it’s even harder not to cling to it with all 20 of his claws. He’s so used to being in survival mode, feral. Thinking things and people can just slip away if you don’t tug tight enough. In reality, people who want to stay, do.
Unless you kill them.
His faraway obsession with power haunts him still. And still. He never had to do that. He was grasping at straws, fumbling for control. Giving into manipulation tactics he should’ve seen through. Every time he thinks of it, he cringes, verging on banging his head on the wall. He was stupid.
Liam’s presence sometimes reminds him of his power trip. But most of the time he helps him escape it. He can forget, looking into his eyes. How they look full and forgiving.
If he can stand to look at me, then it’s okay.
-
“I like you staying here, but I know you hate it,” Liam said to him, one Sunday morning. His hair was in disarray and his hand held coffee and his eyes were tired.
Theo looks away as Liam watches his reaction. He stood across from Liam, leaning on the island. He’s been up for a few hours now, already fully awake.
“I don't hate it.” He was flustered and he knew it. Liam watched, critically. “I just don't like relying on you.”
Feels weak, is what he left out.
“If you say so,” Liam says, with a hint of guilt. He sipped his coffee without another word.
-
Liam helped him land an interview at the theatre, forcing his teammate to put in a good word.
They talked about budgeting and as Theo saved money, Liam encouraged him to do something long term. Like getting his diploma and going to community college.
But Theo doesn't know. He has no idea what he’d even want to study. He’d excel in biology, anatomy, medicine, and the like, but he doesn't think he can do that. Look at death and sickness and viruses. He’s seen it all already. He doesn't know he can live through that again. At the same time, he knows he could help.
And maybe he should stop thinking about what he’s good at and think about what he enjoys. Which is a conundrum in of itself. How do you find passion after years of only focusing on success? He’s never figured out the time to know what he likes.
-
Liam is there with him when he views the apartment and when he signs the lease. He’s there when he gets the keys and when he moves in. He's there when Theo buys a mattress and a bed frame. And then when he gets a nice mustard colored loveseat with a dark wooden coffee table. It’s a studio apartment with huge windows and lots of empty space, but it makes Theo feel better.
Then the guilt sets in. And he doesn’t understand why.
-
The third and final reason why Theo has had a hard time adjusting to his new life. He’s not sure how to open up. How to talk about his old life.
But, opening up is relative. Liam knows when things are wrong: When Theo has nightmares, when he has a glaze over his eyes, when his scent is distasteful and bitter. He knows. They don’t say much to each other, but it's there. It’s laid out in the open and nothing happens because neither of them understand. They don't understand what to do with the smoke congesting the air. It’s thick and heavy and the windows are locked. It’s like there's broken glass on the floor and not a damn thing to clean it up with. There's no way to step around it--they can't just ignore it either. It’s a wound that bleeds inside and out, that clouds Theo’s vision until something or another distracts him from it again.
They both look at this problem with the same thought. It’s your turn. It’s your turn to say something.
Liam thinks he’ll say something wrong. That it’s going to hurt. So, he thinks not to say anything at all. Theo doesn’t even know the words. He can’t form them in his mind let alone his throat. It’s messy and strange and his mind is tortured and he fears it’ll come out misconstrued.
But it also begs the question. What is the problem? Is it Tracy? Josh? Or did it start with Liam and Scott? Or is it his Sisyphus-like punishment? Is it Tara? Is it the way Liam treats him? Is it the entirety of his stay with the Doctors? (There is blood on his hands and he cannot find the body. Where is the body? The source, what is the source?)
And it’s probably all of this, but Theo doesn’t know the reason why he cares now to put memory to mouth. Thought to speech.
The Grinch’s heart appears to have grown three sizes, but where does that loneliness and isolation leave him? It doesn't go away. He cares, but what's the cost?
Everything.
-
It happens one day. A late afternoon on a Saturday.
They're sitting on his couch. It’s raining and cold. Liam and Theo are looking out at the rain beating onto the window, making it sparkle. They had ordered Chinese takeout and talked about childhood. Theo talked about comics and skateboarding and Power Rangers. Liam talked about Spiderman and The History Channel and Beyblades. Theo laughed when Liam said he did Beyblade fights in the sink at school. He was alight with joy that he hasn't felt for a decade. It touched every inch of him. Warming his bones, kissing his heart. And that’s when it hits him. When he looks at Liam’s face and sees it. And it pierces his chest. Those full, forgiving eyes watching Theo with nothing short of awe. He is Theo’s light and his smile beams at him. And he can’t take it. He feels guilt. A waterfall of it.
“Liam.”
Theo’s voice quivers and he can't look at him suddenly. He turns quickly.
“Theo?” His hand touches him, fast. Theo winces and melts at the same time. He can’t, but he wants.
“I think…” Theo chokes. “I’m gonna-”
It shivers up his spine and shakes his body. He sobs and it wrecks him. His bones shake and his lungs convulse. He feels weak and pathetic for it, it's usually how people feel when they cry, but it’s a biological release. He needs this.
Theo wraps his arms around himself, his fork still in his right hand. He tries to hold himself together, like the shakes will break the glue he’s worked so hard for. Liam gingerly takes the fork away and moves it, and his cold Lo Mein, to the coffee table. He puts a warm hand on Theo’s shoulder and pushes him closer. He puts his hands right where Theo was holding himself, hugging it just right. Not too hard, not too soft. Liam places Theo’s hand on his chest, while his other is squeezed tight in his lap.
Theo feels Liam’s heart thump. He lulls himself to it. He syncs himself to Liam. Before he knows it, the stream has stopped and his hand unclenches. The fall has stopped. But he’s at the bottom of the cliff. A survivor. Liam is still hugging him, his hair tickling Theo’s red-hot cheek. He leans into it. He still doesn’t have the right words, but he can let Liam keep this up. Theo lets his swollen eyes shut, bringing a hand up to Liam’s back. He squeezes a little. Liam breathes a sigh down Theo’s neck and squeezes back.
-
The next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the early morning with Liam on top of him, sleeping. His weight is limp and completely wrapped around Theo. His forehead is rested on Theo’s cheek and he softly snores. Theo brings a slow hand up to his eyes to rub away the crust, and tries not to breathe too much. He starts to wonder if he’s making it more awkward than it is. If it can be easier than his brain is making it seem. That he can just rub Liam’s back slowly and breathe deep.
And that he does. Theo watches the sun rise and Liam's body move up and down with the rise and fall of his lungs. He lets himself relax, he lets himself feel the warmth and bear Liam’s weight. And he tries to not feel bad. It’s futile, but at least the bad always comes with something good. He’s enjoying physical intimacy. He just feels bad that he is.
It's the survivors’ guilt. (Is he really a survivor if he’s the one that killed them?) And maybe the suicidal tendencies he has yet to unpack. When he was in the Skinwalkers’ prison, he stopped fighting it. He stopped resisting the inevitable, he started to feel release. Not joy–just better. It was better to die than to suffer. And Theo doesn’t consider the two the same. Or at least not interchangeable. The regret is palpable, he feels so immensely for his sister, he starts to think that he really did kill her. He thinks that his punishment was akin to what she felt, as she reached up at him from the dark stream. He tried to explain he didn’t understand, tried to explain the Doctors manipulated him. And it’s true, but he can’t help but feel responsible when his heart isn’t even in his chest. The evidence is damning and he’s sure if there is a God, he’s going to hell.
He didn’t kill her, but she’s dead because of him. That’s something no one can refute.
Liam wakes up. A muffled sigh at first and then a froggy throat noise. He shuffles, moving his chest against Theo’s, bringing his hand from around Theo’s waist to his eye. He presses his palm into it, then blinks a few times.
“Good morning,” Liam yawns. He props himself up on his hand and for a split second he was leaning over Theo. And for that split second, his ears flushed and his heart stopped.
As Liam began to sit up, Theo did as well. Albeit way more awkward than Liam.
“Morning,” Theo responded, quietly. This pulled him out of his thoughts, back to reality. Where he realized he cuddled Liam all night, after sobbing in front of him. Profusely.
“What time is it?” Liam asked. Theo shrugged.
“Seven?”
Liam blinked at him. Nodded. Like he was starting to realize the weight of the situation. Theo picked up his phone off the table, nearly dead. It read 7:15. He showed it to Liam. Another nod. Theo put the phone down.
“So…” Liam started. “Are you okay?”
Theo’s jerk reaction was to say, I’m fine. But that was dishonest. And if you break down crying at the drop of a hat, the implied answer is no.
“I don’t know how to answer that,” Theo replies instead. Because there’s not much explanation he can give. It’s just guilt. “I just felt guilty.”
“About what?” Liam sat next to him, facing him with one leg on the floor and one folded on the couch. A breaths space between them.
“Why am I here and they’re not? I keep feeling like I shouldn’t be here. That I should be dead.” Theo’s sitting with both feet on the floor. His hands were fiddling in his lap and he was watching Liam through quick glances.
Liam flinches. It’s subtle. But it’s there. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” Theo argues.
“You don’t deserve to be dead–you shouldn’t be dead. No one deserves to die.”
“You thought I did,” Theo counters, his defensiveness flaring. He didn’t even mean to say that he deserves death; it just feels as though he still is. Still dead. It's a hard mindset to come out of.
“I changed,” Liam said, jaw tightening. “You changed too. You’re alive and you’ve got a second chance to be someone different. And you are.”
“Right,” Theo says, somewhat agreeing. “But, I…” He stops. He was saying it out loud. What he really thought. “I don’t deserve to be happy.”
“What?” Liam asked, confused–concerned.
“I shouldn’t… have friends. Or laugh or have fun. I’ve done nothing to deserve it. I’ve done nothing to actually earn a life back. I’m just here. Living like a ghost.”
“You’re not a ghost,” Liam says quickly, swatting his hand in the air. “And I think you’ve redeemed yourself.”
Theo looked up from his fidgeting hands. “How?” He asks. He needed someone to give him something. For Liam to give him something tangible.
“You care, Theo. You’ve helped people. You helped Gabe, you helped me. You’re a loyal ally to the pack. You’ve proved there’s still humanity in you; you’ve made space for empathy. You proved you’re sorry. You've done enough.”
Theo went quiet. It’s simple. Yet he’s done mental gymnastics around it. “I don’t… need more?”
It sounded stupid, but his forehead was scrunched and he was seriously trying to grasp it. It wasn’t easy to believe that he’s proved himself. Proved himself worthy of his body and air in his lungs. It’s a hard thing to prove and a difficult thing to strain your mind over.
Liam scooted closer. He put a hand on Theo’s arm. Theo looks at it, then Liam. They’re close enough where he can count his eyelashes and he can see where his sleepy flush is fading. Theo thinks maybe Liam doesn’t know what else to say. That he knows he’s struggling. He wishes Liam would say something, anything. But this was better than leaving him bleeding on the floor. There’s pressure on this open wound now. The smoke was clearing–broken glass was getting swept. They could do this.
Whatever this was. Friendship or…
“Did uh, you tell your parents where you were?” Theo asked, changing the topic. He stopped blinking–not looking away from Liam.
“I told them I was at a friend’s house,” He answered, automatically. Seemingly confused by his shift in conversation.
Theo squinted at that. He was confused. But, also, not? He started picking his hands up to gesture between them and then thought better of it–dropped them in his lap. Friend?
“We are friends,” Liam said, as if the problem was that Theo didn’t understand that.
“Yeah…” Theo struggles to get the words out. Wrestling with his tongue. “Are we… just friends?”
Liam froze. “Um…”
“I haven’t really had a real friend, but I didn’t imagine that they would sleep together,” Theo said, bluntly, catching Liam off guard.
Liam looks away from Theo, sheepishly rubbing his hands against his thigh, hand falling away from Theo’s arm. “Do… you think we’re just friends?”
The question makes Theo want to scream, I asked first.
They stare at each other, defiantly. Neither wanting to be vulnerable. So, Theo relents with a sigh.
And they don’t talk about it.
-
The question was left unanswered for a long time. They continued to ignore it, like they continued to ignore Theo’s obvious problem.
Ignore. Ignore. Ignore.
It gets to be a bit exhausting, doesn't it?
So, the next time Theo cries, he’s alone. It’s 11pm and he feels awful. He’s plugging his eyes in his sheets, but it’s not working. He fits his hands around himself like Liam did. To try to breathe in his presence and far away scent. Liam isn’t here and he needs him to be. That admittance makes him cry harder. Quiet, pitiful sobs, even though there's no one to see. He still feels like this is worth nothing at all–his tears are burdening in some cosmic way. He needs to make it stop.
In a blur, Theo grabs his phone from the dresser and quickly calls the only number he ever calls. While it rings, all the things he wants to say ring too.
I need you. I like you. I’m sorry. Please. Make me feel better.
His fragmented brain gives him simple sentences for his complex emotions. Which is a long way of saying he can’t think of anything else. It’s just Liam, Liam, Liam.
The call picks up.
“Hello?” Liam asks, his voice ringing throughout Theo’s bedroom.
Everything he had to say fell from his mind. His tongue went numb.
“Hi,” he shakes. His heart lurches and sprints in his chest. He grabs it.
“What’s wrong?” Liam says, rustling. He probably was asleep. His voice was low and concerned.
“I-” Theo tries. I can’t do it, I can’t do it, I can’t.
I need you. I really wish I didn’t. I’m sorry for everything and I’m more sorry for falling for you. You’re too good for me. I corrupt everything I touch; you should stay away. But I need you to stay.
“Theo?” Liam calls, more urgently. “Are you in trouble?”
Theo wants to say yes. But that’s not really true. He’s not in trouble, he is troubled.
“Come over,” Theo says, finding his voice. “Please.”
“Oh,” Liam breathes, surprised. “I-I can do that.”
Liam rustles around and Theo listens. He feels calmer, but still pathetic. Waiting around for someone to tell him it's alright. That the monsters aren't in the closet.
“I’ll be there in a flash,” Liam says, goofily. Theo inhales, twinging a smile.
“Okay, see you.”
When Liam showed up, Theo greeted him at the door. Bloodshot eyes, flushed cheeks. The crying stopped; the feeling stayed.
Liam heartstrings twang, heart beating to a crescendo as Theo just stands there, holding open the door, but not letting him in.
“Hi,” Liam greets, lamely.
“Hi.”
Theo’s hand is on the door and he keeps looking down at his socks.
“What…do you need?” Liam asks. Not understanding there's depth to that question. It wasn’t just about basic, emotional necessity. It’s about his physical craving for touch.
Theo looks up from the floor. You. He doesn’t say that. He just stares, hoping Liam will catch his meaning. Pouring himself into it, but…he doesn’t get it. Liam just waits, as if Theo isn’t begging with every ounce of him.
Theo sniffed, dismissively. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have called.” He starts to close the door, irritated with Liam and himself. It was stupid-
Liam stops it with his foot and steps right up to Theo. He looks him in the eye, suddenly angry. Positively furious.
“Look at me. Tell me.”
His blue eyes twinge gold, freckling here and there. The fight for control is mesmerizing, fascinating. Pulling him in and out. Ebb and flow of the shift, tugging Liam’s willpower. Theo didn’t know he had that kind of power over him. A darker version of Theo would be smiling now, at the leverage he has for the situation. Now Theo cowers. Because all of that was fake, and all of this is real.
“I need… you,” he confesses.
Liam grabs him by his shirt, curling his fingers into the white fabric, twisting it just so. He pulls him close and hesitates. Lips just right over Theo’s. He’s waiting. Theo hates it. He crashes himself against Liam, clumsily and desperate. Liam fixes their lips right, letting his tight grip loosen, while Theo holds tight to his face.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. He exhales from his nose, still pressed to Liam. He’s on fire now, flushed head to toe with raw passion. It was both embarrassing and exhilarating. To want someone’s touch so much. To love it so much. To need.
Liam’s leaning up on his toes and Theo pushes the door closed. Liam leans against the wall, trailing under Theo’s shirt, touching bare skin. Theo’s skin feels like live wire, lighting up with sparks and jolts. He pulls away fast, catching his breath.
“What-? Did I-?” Liam questions, hurriedly.
“No! No,” Theo assured, holding his mouth. His lips are buzzing. “I just never–”
“Ooh,” Liam says, quickly. He understood now. Theo is inexperienced, he's thinking. But, more likely than not, he still didn’t understand how starved he is for it. Theo's kissed before, but not at all like this. Not anything real. “That’s okay.”
Theo lets his hand drop. “We can keep… going. If–”
“Yes,” Liam answers his unfinished question. “Slow.”
Theo nods to that. Liam carefully slides his hands back up to Theo's waist. He shivers. Theo looks at Liam's lips. Softly swollen and kissed. Now, when Liam kisses him, it’s more meaningful. Slow and purposeful. He hums and grasps. Theo’s thumbs rub circles into Liam's neck.
This time, the kiss ends with a hug, Liam scratching nails into his back. He still doesn't say anything. But Theo doesn’t need him to anymore. He looks at Liam with tired eyes and he understands. They walk to the bed and Liam climbs in after Theo. They face each other, holding hands, breathing deep. Soaking in the moment and each other.
-
This time when Theo wakes up, tangled with Liam, he’s not as surprised. (Still a tad surprised how he got him in his bed in the first place.)
This time he finds it easier passing a hand over Liam’s back, watching his breath rise and fall. And he finds it easier to not think about the bad things in his head. Liam snores softly. Theo thinks about how he’ll miss this moment when it’s gone. How he feels content. At peace.
He still doesn’t fully understand himself and this situation. He doesn't understand Liam and what they have. He doesn’t understand what’s wrong with him.
But he’s safe. He’s free. He’s cared for… if he likes it or not. And Theo is going to stay. These simple things matter in the long run. He can focus on himself. He can be happy. Whatever that looks like.
He falls asleep and wakes up again, anew.