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It’s not too late when Liam leaves the party, sharing backslaps and promises to hang out again soon with people he barely knows. Still, even if you’re not local, it’s easy enough to get yourself invited to parties with other college grads - someone you know always knows someone else somewhere. And honestly a little bit of a relief, considering this is his first time being truly on his own, even if only for a few months for his summer internship. No family, no friends, no pack. Just Liam. Everyone he cares about is only a phone call or a text message - or realistically, a drive - away though if he needs them.
He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows, again cursing his decision to wear a button-up in the early summer. The evening is warm, or maybe Liam is still a little buzzed, or maybe it’s a bit of both. By this point he’s got the wolfsbane cocktail down to an art; if nothing else, he learned that in college. A little bit of subtlety is required in the act of spiking your own drinks, but it’s made him a near endless list of supernatural friends.
Also, he spent a not-insignificant amount of time making out with a pretty guy he’ll probably never see again, which is always nice. Sometimes kissing can just be kissing and it doesn’t have to amount to anything else, and that’s fine. His lips still feel like they’re tingling a little and it brings a smile to his face, even if the sensation isn’t really there. Then again, it could also be the wolfsbane.
Something shifts in the air after he turns down a back alley which he’s at least sixty-two percent sure is a shortcut back to the shoebox apartment he’s renting for the summer. He sobers up fast, hearing on high alert, wary of any potential danger. Men’s voices, a cry of pain?
Around halfway down the alley there’s a split into another, darker alley, barely even lit, but Liam can see well enough to know he’s not the one in danger here.
“Hey!” he yells, and the two hooded men whip their heads round to him before making a run for it. Liam starts to give chase, but stops when he reaches the crumpled figure on the ground. “Are you okay?” he asks, which feels like a stupid question considering this person is clearly not okay. “Those guys are gone, you’re safe now,” he opts for instead, pulling his phone from his pocket. “I’m going to call you an ambulance, everything will-”
“No,” the figure grits out. “No ambulance. No hospital.”
Liam almost recoils in disbelief at the voice. He crouches down to try and get a look at their face, flaring his eyes to let him see in the near-dark of the alley even though his instincts are telling him not to, even though he knows it’s safe to do so.
Because: “Nolan?”
***
There’s no mistaking it, Liam definitely just found Nolan Holloway getting the absolute shit kicked out of him in a dark alley. Nolan, who vanished after high school. Who even managed to stay off of Argent’s radar, Theo’s radar, Monroe’s radar. Who nobody has seen or heard from since shortly after the Anuk-ite was defeated what feels like a moment ago, a lifetime ago.
And by pure chance, here he is.
Liam has so many questions. Where have you been the past four years? What have you been doing? Why did you leave? Why didn’t you say goodbye?
He settles for, “Can you stand?” which it quickly becomes clear Nolan can’t, the other man cutting off his cry with a shallow, rasping inhale when he tries to push himself up. “Jesus,” Liam mutters, crouching down to brace a hand on his bare arm, draining some of his pain away. Nolan isn’t looking at him for some reason, actually seems to be trying to inch his arm out of Liam’s reach. Even still, he can see the blood steadily dripping from Nolan’s nose. Those guys have really done a number on him, whoever they were. “Nolan, look at me.”
After a few reluctant moments, Nolan looks up. “Why are you here?”
Liam could almost laugh at that, at this whole situation, at actually finding Nolan after all this time, if he wasn’t so focused on the hostility in Nolan’s voice and his rapid, shallow inhales. Despite not being the local anatomy expert in his family, it’s pretty damn obvious Nolan is hurt, and badly.
“Summer internship,” he says, bracing his arm around Nolan’s side, trying to keep as close to his stomach as possible in case he actually does have fractured ribs. Along with hurting like hell, fractured ribs affect your breathing, he knows that much. If he’s ruptured a lung, would he still be conscious like this or would he be passed out? “Finding myself, or whatever. Decide if I’m actually going to follow through on my grad school acceptance offer or just head out into the world. On three, okay? One, two, three…”
Nolan cuts off another wounded noise, gripping hard at Liam’s shoulder to try and support himself. “Jesus fuck,” he curses, staggering a little as he clutches at his own chest. Definitely hurt. Adjusting his hold on Nolan to support him from beneath his armpit instead, Liam helps him stand a little further upright.
“We need to get you to a hospital.”
“No ambulance, no hospital,” Nolan snaps, trying to pull away from Liam but only succeeding in stumbling over his own feet. To stop him from falling, Liam has to catch him around the ribcage; Nolan yells.
“Shit, sorry, sorry,” he apologises, guiding Nolan - whose face has just paled considerably - out of the dark alley and back towards the street. Despite Liam’s attempts to take more of his pain, for some unfathomable reason Nolan keeps trying to shake him off.
“You really think they won’t be waiting for me?”
Which brings Liam to one of the questions he’s been dying to ask. “Who the hell are they, Nolan? What mess are you caught up in?”
Nolan attempts to laugh, however it quickly cuts off into a wince. Instead he levels Liam with a vicious smile. “They’re Rossler and Preston’s friends.”
A chill shoots through Liam, and it’s nothing to do with the rapidly-cooling evening.
“You didn’t think it was over, did you?”
“Of course not!” he says with a little more bite than intended; Nolan’s hostility and condescension is getting to him a little more than he’d like to admit. Of course he knows it isn’t truly over. The fight never is. Monroe may be long gone by this point, taken out in battle a few years back, however there are still little pockets of resistance here and there. Like cockroaches, they seem to keep coming back no matter how many of them get stamped out. Liam and the rest of the pack have been fortunate enough to be able to lead semi-normal lives again, Argent and his old caste hunter buddies leading the fight against the new resistance, but that doesn’t mean he, or anyone else, has forgotten what they’ve gone through.
He just didn’t know anyone else close to him was still so embroiled in it.
“Is this what you’ve been doing since you left?”
Nolan doesn’t answer. His face remains impassive, his heartbeat stays steady.
His face may be familiar, but Liam has his arm wrapped around a stranger.
***
“You need medical attention,” Liam says when they’re back out in the open. Maybe if he repeats it enough, Nolan will actually listen to him.
Other than his face, Nolan doesn’t seem to be visibly bleeding through his clothes, so if they meet anyone on the streets he can probably explain it away as Nolan being wasted and having fallen over. If it stops judgmental stares turning into calls to the cops, he’ll take it.
“I said I’m fine.”
“You can barely walk,” he hisses. “Want me to let go of you and see what happens?” He levels Nolan with a look; Nolan mutters something Liam pretends not to hear, something he definitely knows Liam heard, but doesn’t openly disagree with him. “Yeah, thought not.”
That only leaves the question of where the hell to go. As much as he hates to admit it, Nolan is right. They can’t go to the hospital. Who knows what sort of mess they might walk right into? And if these last years have shown him anything, Nolan doesn’t want anyone from Beacon Hills to know where he is or what he’s doing. It’s only by sheer luck - good or bad, Liam hasn’t decided yet - that he found Nolan at all.
Nolan, whose shallow breathing is still a cause for concern. While he’s keeping up with Liam, admittedly with a little help, he’s probably only still on his feet through sheer force of will. Sure, he could handle himself on the lacrosse field back in high school, occasionally faired better with Coach Finstock’s special torturous brand of training methods than Liam did, but this is a totally different type of resilience, one that isn’t possessed by your normal everyday person. It only raises more red flags and questions about the enigma Nolan Holloway has become.
“Let’s stop for a minute.” Liam supports Nolan to lean against the side of a building before unhooking his arm from around him. After a moment of awkward hovering on Liam’s part, it’s clear Nolan isn’t going to collapse or anything.
This rest stop isn’t only for Nolan’s benefit though; Liam still has no idea what the hell they’re doing or where the hell they’re going. While he desperately racks his brain for a solution, he reaches for Nolan’s hand to take some more of his pain. Nolan’s still having none of it; Liam has to bite off a noise of frustration when Nolan shifts out of his reach. However, Nolan doesn’t give him a chance to stew in it.
“You any good at breaking and entering?”
***
“I just want to let the record show,” Liam grunts, dislodging the security grill from the window with a slight stagger, “that I still think this is a terrible idea.”
“And it’s still better than yours,” Nolan says.
“Oh yeah? Because getting you real medical attention from trained professionals just screams stupidity, doesn’t it?”
Nolan grunts something, although whether it’s words or a sound of pain, Liam can’t say. He’s too busy worrying about whether a silent alarm has already gone off inside, sending a fleet of cops on their way, and worrying about Nolan’s general wellbeing, and worrying about those guys who put him in his current state in the first place, and worrying about the ghost and apparently legacy of Tamora Freaking Monroe, and-
“Liam.”
He comes back to himself with a start, returning Nolan’s steady gaze. Despite their current situation, despite the pain he must be in right now, Nolan’s heartbeat is steady, the set of his eyes is firm.
“We’re still outside, anyone could see us. Break in first, freak out later. Okay?”
“Got it,” he nods, shimmying the window the rest of the way open and clambering inside. Flaring his eyes to see in the dark, he lets Nolan inside through the back door before leading him to a theater. Unsurprisingly, veterinary clinics don’t smell dissimilar to hospitals, but it’s not difficult for Liam to block out the familiar smells of sickness and cleaning products. He contemplates flicking the light switch, then thinks better of it. Nolan clearly has the same idea, using the flashlight on his phone to start rooting around in the drawers for medical supplies. Between them, they come up with gauze, bandages, swabs, a set of tweezers, gloves, and a roll of paper towels.
After wetting some paper towels under the sink, Nolan starts tentatively yet meticulously dabbing himself down. Without really meaning to, Liam stares. Never could he have anticipated such casual self-assuredness from the anxiety ridden boy he once knew. Even so, there’s only so much Nolan can do to clean himself up without a proper mirror and little light, not to mention the pain he must be in.
“Let me help,” Liam insists, stepping forward. Before Nolan can protest, Liam flares his eyes, reminding him, “I can see better.”
He holds Liam’s gaze for a moment before acquiescing, although he doesn’t seem happy about it, holding the roll of paper towels out for Liam with a barely concealed wince.
And so, eyes flared, Liam gets to work.
Although he’s reluctant to take his shirt off altogether, the compromise is for Nolan to hold it up so Liam can get a look at his torso and back. They look about as great as his face, which is to say, not great. Those guys really did a number on him. He skirts around Nolan’s ribs as much as possible, because something in his gut says the second Liam goes near them, Nolan will rescind his help. Instead he admires the definition of Nolan’s body and how he’s filled out a bit, no longer a skinny string bean of a teenager, a smattering of hair on his chest and around his nipples.
Once he’s done as much as he can on that front, the next thing to tidy up is Nolan’s face. So lost in his thoughts, the intensity of Nolan’s returning stare is startling enough that Liam averts his eyes for a moment, before mentally reminding himself he has a job to do. Bruises are already forming around Nolan’s eyes and Liam can tell they won't look pretty in the morning. Nolan's facial hair is a little wispy despite its good coverage, like he hasn't shaved in a couple of days rather than as if he’s intentionally trying to grow it. Liam can admit he looks good, handsome, yet simultaneously looks like absolute shit. As Liam cleans up the gashes on Nolan’s cheek and forehead, and the split bridge of his nose and the congealed trail of blood between his nostril and top lip, Nolan watches Liam unflinching, seemingly unaffected by Liam’s flared eyes. He’s a far cry from the boy who was once actively scared of Liam and his friends, who couldn’t have held steady eye contact like this with anyone, supernatural or not, if his life depended on it. Not for the first time, Liam wonders what else has happened to him over the past four years.
Once Nolan’s face is as cleaned up as they’re going to get it, around the cuts and his rapidly bruising eyes, it’s clear they can’t ignore the elephant in the room any longer.
“We need to look at your ribs.” Liam gestures to the x-ray machine. “And I don’t know how to use this.”
The implication sets in and Nolan scowls, looking away. For a moment Liam thinks he’s about to do something obscenely stupid like try to leave. Instead, on the tail-end of a shallow inhale, he says, “Do what you need to do.”
So, the nervous knot in his stomach returning, Liam calls Scott.
“Liam, hey!” he says cheerily, followed by the sounds of him quietly excusing himself from wherever he is. “What’s up?”
“Hey Scott,” he smiles, relieved it’s still evening in California and Liam hasn’t woken him up. “It’s uh, not a social call, unfortunately. I need your help.”
Nolan is shooting him a murderous glare, and it’s clear he’s going to have to be… selective, about what he tells Scott right now. Even so, Liam is mildly amused that it's been years since Nolan has looked at him like that, for entirely different reasons.
“My friend needs medical attention, but he can’t go to the hospital.” Human, Scott will realise. “I’m pretty sure he’s got some fractured ribs. Can you talk me through how to use an x-ray machine?”
There’s a brief silence as Scott processes the situation. “Where are you right now?”
“Inside a veterinary clinic. There are no uh, qualified professionals around, currently.”
“I thought not,” he chuckles. Then, more seriously, he asks, “Are you safe?”
Liam glances at Nolan, who’s still watching him. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
Thankfully Scott doesn’t pry any further, jumping right in to which buttons Liam should use to increase the collimation on the x-ray machine, so it can be used for a human rather than an animal. Then he talks Liam through adjusting the kilovoltage and milliamperage settings, and positioning the grid to reduce radiation. And, because Scott is Scott, he makes Liam parrot back a speech about the potential risks of being x-rayed this way rather than by a medical professional, and that the results may be compromised. After Liam gives Nolan’s silent consent by proxy, Nolan gingerly settles himself down, trying but not quite managing to suppress a wince, Scott talks Liam through taking x-rays of Nolan’s ribs.
When the images are finally ready, after a lot of impatient pacing and fidgeting, Liam scrutinises them. Although not a medical professional himself, he’s gleaned enough over the years from his dad, and from Scott, and from his life in general, that he easily spots the three fractured ribs in the image.
“Bad news,” he grimaces, for Nolan and for Scott, detailing what he’s found. He’s not surprised, and Nolan clearly isn’t either, but it still sucks for him.
After a sympathetic comment, Scott launches into how to care for broken ribs.
“I’m putting you on speaker,” Liam interrupts, ignoring the look Nolan shoots him. If he’s affected by actually hearing Scott’s voice again, he doesn’t show it. Still, it’s clear he’s in pain, clutching at the side he has two broken ribs on, and Liam’s not sure how well he’s actually taking in what Scott’s saying. But when Scott finishes and asks if they’ve got all that, Nolan nods though, so Liam confirms. Scott seems to be taking it in stride that Liam’s the only one responding, even though he knows Liam has someone else with him.
***
Despite wanting nothing more than to get out of here, with it being closer to dawn than it has any right to be, the party he left earlier that night nothing but a distant memory, his nerves well and truly frayed, Scott talks him through reverting the x-ray machine back to its regular settings. After eliciting a promise from Liam to call him tomorrow, Scott ends the call.
“You’re not going to tell anyone you saw me tonight,” Nolan says as soon as Liam locks his phone. “Not Scott, not Mason, not anyone else in your precious little pack.”
“Wh-”
“You’re going to want to,” Nolan speaks over him. “Tomorrow, or next week, or in a month, a year. But you’re not going to. I don’t need you ruining things for me.”
“Oh yeah, because things are clearly going so well for you right now.” Liam gestures at him loosely, and Nolan half-scoffs, half-grimaces. “What’re you gonna do? Kill me?”
Nolan’s gaze is both molten fire and frigid ice. “That’s right. I’ll kill you.” His heartbeat is steady, unwavering. He means it, Liam is shocked to realise. Then: “You won’t be the first mutt I’ve put down.”
Liam snarls, fangs and claws extending, squaring up to Nolan. “I’m starting to think you deserved this,” he spits.
The thing is, this Nolan seems much more capable of following through on that threat than the one Liam used to know. There’s conviction behind his words rather than fear. Suddenly his steady, disaffected gaze is infuriating.
“What x-ray settings do werewolves use?”
Liam blinks. His fangs and claws retract. “What?”
“There’s different x-ray settings for animals and for humans. What settings do werewolves use?”
Liam is stumped, both by the whiplash of the question but also by what Nolan’s actually asking. He doesn't know of any werewolves who have had an x-ray – their accelerated healing should kick in before it would be necessary.
“Human settings,” Liam says with less conviction than he feels, because despite the number of times he or other pack members have ended up in Deaton’s back room for various reasons over the years, their bodies are human first.
“Well, now that we’ve solved that little mystery, I’m leaving. Don’t follow me.”
“What the hell,” Liam says, intercepting Nolan at the door. “Those guys nearly killed you tonight, you’re not going anywhere alone. What if they’re still hanging around somewhere waiting for you?”
“Then I’ll return the favor,” Nolan says.
“Not with three broken ribs, you won’t,” Liam says. “You’re staying with me. It’s not optional.”
“Oh, it isn’t? And who’s going to stop me if I say no? You?” Nolan seems amused by this somehow, as if he’s forgotten what Liam himself is capable of, the strength he possesses.
“That’s right.” Liam stands up even straighter, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks Nolan right in the eyes. “Me.”
They’ve reached an impasse, and Nolan knows it. There’s no way he’s getting past Liam without trying to physically move him from the doorway. Even then, Liam’s tracking skills are better than they were when he was a teenager, which Nolan must assume. And if Nolan actually does try to get physical? Liam will be gentle if he can, but if it takes a little force, a little added persuasion, to make Nolan see sense and stay where he is, then Liam will apply it.
Which is why it’s a relief when Nolan backs down and glances away.
“One night. That’s it.”
Trying not to make his relief too obvious, Liam moves out of the doorway. When he starts gathering up the various medical supplies they scrounged together to tidy them away, Nolan joins him by unspoken agreement, putting the dirtied and bloodied paper towels in the trash. Once everything is as fixed as they’re going to get it and Liam has made sure the window and door they used to break in are secure, they leave.
***
The walk back is tense, to say the least, with Liam on high alert for any signs of danger. Although reluctant to give him any information, Nolan eventually concedes and leads Liam to the veritable health hazard of a motel he’s booked into so he can get his stuff. It’s the dictionary definition of seedy, Liam’s enhanced sense of smell battering him with all sorts of scents he wishes he could unsmell, and Liam is vindicated by the fact there’s no way in hell Nolan would be able to keep his wounds clean here and avoid an infection.
Even with Liam carrying his bag, Nolan is walking slowly enough that Liam has to keep waiting for him to catch up, stopping every few paces when Nolan isn’t by his side anymore. But he refused to let them get a cab, and even more frustratingly, he keeps pulling away when Liam tries to stealthily take his pain. He doesn’t understand why Nolan insists on being so damn difficult.
They make it to Liam’s place without a hitch, however, and he breathes a sigh of relief once he’s locked the apartment door behind him.
“Couch, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom,” Liam says, pointing at the four main areas in quick succession; the place is hardly big enough for a tour. “You’re taking the bed.”
“Fuck off, I’m not taking your bed.”
“You can’t even stand up straight anymore. You’re taking the bed.”
“… Fine,” Nolan acquiesces again with a scowl, dragging his feet towards the bedroom. At this point Liam thinks he’s being contrary on purpose.
“Don’t lay flat on your back, pile up the pillows behind you,” Liam reminds him. Nolan grunts, but Liam hears him shifting the pillows and each creaking spring of the mattress as he slowly lowers himself down onto it.
Liam slumps down on the couch, dragging his hands down his face. Even though he’s exhausted, he knows sleep won’t come easy, if it comes at all. Knowing he’s keeping Nolan safe, at least for one night, will make it worth it.