Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Emotions.

Theo had wondered what kind of emotion he was feeling when he watched his sister die of hypothermia; did he even feel any? He couldn't remember. He just knew he acted with purpose, knew that with her dying, he could start to be so much more than just a feeble human. At least, that's what he was told he could be.

It was a deliberate decision, and it’s terrifying that he could do that at such a young age.

Theo knew he was not a nice person. He still wasn't, if he was being honest. His time in hell didn't suddenly make him a good guy. He was a sociopath, or whatever the doctors called it. He only did things if there was something to gain, if it somehow benefited him. He knew this.

Theo knew this.

He also knew that he wasn’t the same person since he came back.

He started feeling things.

Not a lot at first.

Theo knew what fear felt like now, what anger felt like, what sadness felt like, loneliness (he tried befriending a damn spider at one point, if only it didn't dig its way inside his skin), regret, even shame. It wasn't an instant change; it was a slow, steady tide of emotion. And for someone who didn't understand these kinds of things to suddenly know how it felt, Theo couldn't handle it well, dealt with it the worst way possible. It was rather a blessing that no matter how deep he carved into his skin, it would always heal as if it didn't bleed through the night.

And it all started because he realized he was scared to go back, to be returned down under, even though deep down he felt justified to have his heart ripped out over and over again.

Forgiveness wasn’t something he deserved.

Theo didn't like emotions, more precisely, he didn't like the feelings he’s been given, or so far, he’s got.

Maybe, probably, this was his new kind of hell since his sister couldn’t tear out his chest anymore.

It should be unfair, he should be angry and think it’s unfair, he was manipulated and tortured for the better part of his childhood. He never grew up normally, and he’ll never know what that would feel like.

But he also wasn’t dumb.

His bad upbringing didn't justify his bad and selfish choices.

It’s annoying that he can recognize that now. It was all bullshit. Sometimes, he wondered, if Liam never got him out of his underground prison, would his sister continue taking back the heart he stole from her?

Theo was snapped out from his endless thoughts when he heard a tapping sound from his window. Groaning inwardly, he started thinking of some spots within Beacon Hills that he could park without being woken every hour or so. Lately, the options are dwindling since most of the deputies started noticing his pattern.

Theo fully expected to face a random deputy once he sat up from his barely comfortable sleeping position, probably someone new since it was that time of the season, definitely not fucking Sheriff Stilinski lighting a flashlight at his face, momentarily blinding him for a minute.

They stared at each other for a second long before the Sheriff moved the end of his flashlight, probably studying the inside of Theo’s truck more, definitely seeing his poor sleeping setup while maintaining a blank expression.

“Theo,” the Sheriff finally acknowledged,

“Sheriff,” Theo greeted.

The Sheriff let out a deep exhale before turning his flashlight off and slinging it back on his belt. He looked around the Preserve before staring back at him. “The evening’s not doing well for you, I assume?”

Theo stared at him and his eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry,” he started. “Are you seriously trying to make small talk with me, at one in the morning, in the deepest part of the Preserve?”

Which was true, Theo’s evening wasn’t doing well, it hadn’t been doing well for the past few weeks no thanks to the Sheriff’s deputies shooing him away wherever he went. A full night’s sleep hasn’t been an option for him ever since he crawled his way back from hell. But to be perfectly honest, has he ever had a full night’s sleep?

“Yes,” the older man answered without a beat

“Why?” If Theo’s questions felt more like a demand, the Sheriff didn’t point it out.

“Basic human decency,” the Sheriff replied unimpressed.

That got Theo to snort. “Usually I’d correlate having a stupid big heart with McCall, not from the Sheriff.”

“You think I’m an asshole?” The older man questioned, looping both thumbs on his belt, somewhat turning this conversation into an interrogation. At least that’s what Theo felt was happening here.

“Not from the people who don’t deserve it, no,” Theo replied easily. And maybe Theo’s just really tired, that the weeks of sleepless nights being piled up one after another had ruined his brain to mouth filter because seeing that expression on the Sheriff’s face, it made Theo realize that he just basically said he didn't deserve basic human decency, not from him, not from anyone. “Look, why not just use your good heart to tell your little minions to ignore my truck, I would gladly enjoy to at least have a few hours of sleep,” Theo added, trying to get the topic moving.

“I have a guest room,” out of all the things Theo anticipated the Sheriff would say, that wasn’t part of the list.

"Are you taking pity on me?" Theo asked, offended. He might not own much, but he still had his pride.

“You need it.”

That did not make him feel better in any shape or form. There are multiple reasons why this was a bad and brainless idea. “I know the crazy gene came from your dead wife. I didn’t really expect for you to have it, no wonder Stiles turned out like that.”

The Sheriff glared at him.

Progress.

“Just start the car, Raeken.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the Sheriff, shouldn’t you be smart enough not to invite me to your home?”

“Yes,” the Sheriff said, sounding as if he was fully aware of what Theo was implying. “I'm also smart enough to know that if you were a threat, you would've accepted the offer the second I suggested it.”

Theo snapped his mouth shut after that, he couldn’t do anything but glare at the older man through his window.

“C’mon kid, even if you try to run away now, my deputies know what your car and plate number is by heart,” the Sheriff added. “You won’t be seeing this face the next time someone taps on your window.”

Theo sat in silence for a second, long enough to think of another way to decline. It was obvious that the Sheriff wasn’t taking no for an answer, and Theo wanted to prove the guy wrong, that taking him in for the night didn't just make him stupid, but also places his whole well-being in danger.

“Will it help if you let yourself think this is some form of house arrest?” the Sheriff suggested tiredly instead when Theo remained seated at the back of his truck. It must’ve been a long night for him as well.

“Would’ve been more believable if Argent were doing it.”

“Let’s put a pin on that.”

Somehow, Theo felt like he should’ve just kept his mouth shut and driven away.

---

The guest room didn't have a pillow, that’s what the Sheriff told him, so Theo was stuck standing in front of the Stilinski house while carrying his old, beaten-up pillow and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, carrying all of his measly belongings in it. He couldn’t look any more pathetic than this..

“What are you doing here? What is he doing here?" Stiles asked his dad with such bewilderment that it grated on Theo’s sleep-deprived nerves. He'd rather sleep on a sidewalk than listen to Stiles’ voice.

“He’s staying for the night,” the Sheriff answered. “Play nice,” he ordered, mostly towards his son. And just to add fuel to the fire, Theo plastered the fakest smile he could muster because he just could.

“Play ni— Play nice?” Stiles parroted, appalled. “Dad, are you crazy?”

“He was sleeping in his truck,” the Sheriff explained. Theo found himself staring at his shoes, refraining from feeling the heat climb up his face. Embarrassment wasn’t something he’d felt in a long time, usually, it would be all an act, fake enough to manipulate people. He wasn’t used to this.

“And that’s our problem, how?” Stiles asked, sounding irritated the longer the conversation continued. And for a valid reason, the sun hasn’t been up yet.

Theo adjusted his duffel bag and promptly started turning around, he knew this was a bad idea, having told the Sheriff about it multiple times.

“Nope, you’re staying here,” the Sheriff simply ordered, placing a firm hand on his shoulder before successfully dragging Theo back in. He could’ve easily dislodged it and left them, really, it was that easy. But he didn’t.

He just didn’t.

Stiles stared at his dad in comical disbelief, words failing to articulate. His mouth hanging open. “Dad, he doesn’t even wanna be here,” he said, flailing a hand towards Theo’s direction.

“He wants to be here.” the Sheriff argued.

“I don’t wanna be here,” Theo found himself muttering under his breath while staring up, as if waiting for some divine intervention.

“See?” Stiles was now pointing towards him with both arms.

The Sheriff pinched the bridge of his nose, tired and sleep-deprived, but somehow still resilient. “It’s just for the night,” he said before taking a short glance at his wrist watch. “The remainder of it at least.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we’re both found dead the next morning.”

Theo pressed his lips together and avoided tipping his head down. He knew Stiles and his habit of exaggerating things, but the reminder still felt unpleasant. He opted to glare at the hyperactive teen instead.

The Sheriff comically pondered at the thought for a second too long before turning to look at Theo, not speaking until the younger man stared right back. “Are you going to kill us?”

Theo frowned. “And gain what, exactly?” The answer wasn’t exactly what either would want to hear based on their expressions, but Theo wasn’t catering to any of their needs to accommodate them. He’ll say what he wants to say because he can do that now, and has been doing so.

The Sheriff though, took what he said and just ran with it. “That’s not a yes.”

“That’s not a no either,” Stiles argued still. “He’s a seasoned liar, Dad. We’ve talked about this.”

That got Theo narrowing his eyes. Because if there’s anything to take from what Stiles just said, it would be that Theo had become a topic of discussion before. That the mighty McCall pack had once discussed Theo’s situation here in Beacon Hills, or probably what his relationship would be to the pack. Seeing that the war had happened a few months ago and Theo had been the same homeless teenager even before the whole issue with Monroe, it was obvious what the final verdict was.

It wasn’t a hard decision, really. It shouldn’t even be.

“Well, I’m gonna take a leap of faith and say I trust this seasoned liar not to kill us while he sleeps.”

“A misplaced faith,” Theo, again, muttered. Sue him, he was tired. He didn’t know what a full night's sleep felt like anymore. His stomach’s been consuming nothing but caffeine because there’s a diner that hadn't been creeped out by him yet. He should be sleeping by now, or probably driving to park in a new place.

Stiles stared at him as he was about to make a rebuttal but stopped midway. Theo stared back, already hearing the gears inside the Stilinski’s head working in overdrive. The father and son duo then stared at each other while their eyebrows moved as if communicating. Theo knew he wasn’t stupid, he was intelligent just as much as Stiles was no matter how many times he disagreed about it. But right now, he felt so dumb standing between them.

“Alright, one night,” Stiles said, sounding as if he had finally made a conclusive decision.

Theo, for the better part of him, stared in disbelief. He hadn’t been expecting Stiles to be back in town this early during spring break, it was a relief to find the guy opening the door for them because that would mean, other than Theo himself, there was another sensible person who could make the Sheriff see sense. He didn’t expect that the son, who had verbally and countlessly pointed out his distaste for Theo’s sudden freedom from the skinwalker’s prison, would agree with his father.

It was rather a surreal experience.

He later found himself staring at the Stilinski’s guest bedroom’s ceiling, a soft mattress on his back while wearing Stiles’ old pajamas. The latter wasn’t lent to him voluntarily by the owner though.

The room was quiet, very quiet that he could hear Stiles tapping on his phone a few doors down, no doubt informing the McCall pack about this sudden situation his father had put themselves into. He could also hear the Sheriff snoring, forcing Theo to be wide awake. He could hear their heartbeats and labored breathing.

Theo listened to it for a minute before defeatedly standing up to open the window, letting the cold air enter the room and hear those subtle noises that one would only hear in the night. Theo went back to bed and closed his eyes, listening to the leaves rustling against each other while Stiles furiously typed on his mobile phone.

It shouldn’t be relaxing.

---

Theo woke up and wasted no time changing his clothes and climbing out through the window. He didn’t manage to have a full night’s sleep but he slept long enough to feel less groggy than in the past few weeks. He’s thankful for the Sheriff’s and Stiles (albeit somewhat forced) hospitality, but he wasn’t planning on staying longer than discussed.

The second Theo’s feet hit the ground, he froze and slowly stood up to turn around, already expecting the Sheriff to be leaning by the doorway, drinking a cup of coffee as he watched the scene unfold in front of him. A very amused expression was plastered on his face and it reminded Theo of his very obvious relation to Stiles.

“Sheriff,” Theo called, not even bothered to pretend that he wasn’t irritated that he’d been caught. For an ex-assassin/spy, he’s slipping.

“Theo,” the Sheriff acknowledged. “There’s breakfast inside, c’mon.” Theo would’ve left, really, he would’ve, if the Sheriff wasn’t watching him like a hawk, waiting for him to come inside. He could’ve, Theo knew this, he could’ve just left and been on his merry way.

But he didn’t, he’d like to believe that he hadn’t had real food in a while and it’s best to take advantage of free things now that he’s in no position to stay prideful. That didn't mean he has to control his irate expression.

“You know, back then, Derek was a lot quieter whenever he left my room,” Stiles commented when Theo took the free seat that paralleled him. “It helps with his habit of silently glowering at the corner.”

Theo just gave him a look, because that first part of the sentence definitely didn't sound like what he thought it sounded like. There could be an off chance that Stiles just couldn’t word his sentence right and knowing what he knew (and by knew, he meant researched) from the guy, it probably was.

“You wanna tell me more about that?” the Sheriff asked.

Theo knew the second Stiles realized his mistake, his eyes going comically wide while mid-chew on his scrambled eggs. “It’s really not what it sounds like,” Even by Theo’s standard, the defense felt a little too weak, but the beat of his heart didn't say he’s lying. Something Theo didn’t bother to look too much into.

“Just eat your eggs, Stiles,” the Sheriff ordered before miserably stabbing at his chopped carrots and broccoli.

Theo stared down at his plate, eggs, two slices of toasted bread, and a few sausages. It wasn’t a grand breakfast but it reminded Theo that he had almost forgotten what real food tasted like. It’s a depressing thought, maybe the Sheriff was right in taking pity on him.That didn't mean he should feel good about it. Theo just grabbed a fork and started feeding himself, doing his best not to inhale the food in one sitting.

“Since you’re already packed, we’ll need to meet up at Scott’s house by ten o’clock,” Stiles informed the room at large.

Theo froze and looked up. “We?” He asked.

“I know you heard me with your advanced werewolf-werecoyote hearing, dude, stop playing dumb.”

“It’s a reaction, ever heard of that, Stiles?” Theo bit back before reeling back and realizing what the other man just said. “And did you just call me ‘dude’?”

They took Stiles’ jeep.

What bothered Theo more: the Sheriff was with them.

Somewhere between the time he was asleep, decisions were already made that warranted Theo’s attendance in the McCall house, and since school’s out for the week, the majority of the pack were back in town, albeit not for long, so he’s not just dealing with a few of them, he’s going to be dealing with all of them. And somehow, he’s not allowed to say otherwise because like what Noah Stilinski said, he’s on house arrest.

“Don’t you think you’re a few months late for this?” Theo asked from the backseat.

“Couldn’t say there’s a valid reason for that, but it’s better to be late than sorry,” Stiles replied, keeping his eyes on the road. “Besides, you bolted the minute the war ended.”

“I was around,” Theo corrected. “The Sheriff can’t say I wasn’t,” he added to back up his claims. He’s still known as a manipulative liar, anything he says will always be taken with a grain of salt, be it real or not. It’s ironic how his life somehow became the Boy Who Cried Wolf.

“Yeah,” Stiles said, elongating the word. “My pops has a lot of explaining to do with that.”

“You don’t scare me, Stiles,” the Sheriff replied unimpressed.

“I’m guilt tripping you, Dad,” Stiles corrected, glancing a peek at the sheriff beside him before returning his eyes to the road. “You should feel ashamed of your act of omission, the betrayal cuts deep.”

The Sheriff let out a loaded scoff, before crossing his arms. “You sure you want to use that card on me?”

Stiles hissed in slight regret. “Believe it or not, I thought you’d at least waver even just by a tiny bit.”

Theo hadn’t done anything since the war ended, he kept low and stayed in Beacon Hills—for a reason he would rather not think about—for the better part of it. Scott had his number, meaning the whole argument Stiles laid out didn't back up his claims if he’s only one dial away. Theo’s positively sure he didn’t receive any call from McCall or anyone from their pack. He would’ve known, there aren’t a lot of people who would contact him.

They arrived at Scott’s house with only a few people from the McCall pack missing, but even with still a few people still not being there, the house already felt so full. Heads were turned when Theo had stepped foot inside, seeing Argent made him feel like his case was somehow big enough even though he hadn’t done anything as of late to warrant him here.

It rather felt jarring to have all eyes on him.

It’s different when you want those eyes on you so that you can play a certain part.

“Theo,” Scott called, standing from being seated by the sofa next to Malia.

“Scott,” Theo acknowledged.

“We’re just waiting for Liam and the others to arrive, you can take a seat over— well, somewhere,” he said, scratching his jaw as he noticed not a single empty seat was available especially when Stiles took up a lot of space by laying down on the sofa, Derek slapped him upside the head and started arguing with him while pulling at his leg.

Theo avoided making a confused reaction because that oddly sounded like he was treating him as a guest.

He decided not to dwell on that thought and leaned against the corner of the room instead. Trying to avoid glances towards him, watching his movement, as if anticipating what he’d do while waiting. Theo opted to pull out his phone and play a game instead, it’s enough to distract him from the people in the room. It wasn’t long before he heard a familiar heartbeat walking by the driveway, getting closer as the second went by, by the time Theo looked up, he saw Liam at the entrance along with Mason and Corey right behind him.

“Sorry we’re late, we had to drop Nolan at his house,” Liam informed the room at large, staring at the ground as he scraped his shoes on the welcome mat. He looked up and immediately zeroed in on Theo.

He cut his hair. That was Theo’s immediate thought reminding him of his first encounter with Liam before completely processing what the younger man said. Apparently, while Theo was busy driving around Beacon Hills, Nolan had redeemed himself enough to be friends with the ‘Puppy Pack’, albeit still not being part of the pack itself. Something ugly curled deep in Theo’s gut, something new, and he didn’t know what to call it.

There was a pinched expression on Liam’s face. “What’s he doing here?” He asked, or demanded, whatever fit the scene more.

Theo raised an eyebrow, that’s what he’s been trying to find out. It seemed like it wasn’t to everyone’s knowledge he would be here today. “It wasn’t voluntary,” he answered plainly.

“I thought he died in a ditch somewhere,” Malia said somewhere on the right.

“I thought he left Beacon Hills,” Mason added, as the three slowly filed themselves inside the room.

Theo just shrugged before pocketing his phone. “Sorry to disappoint.” He said, finishing it off with one of his annoying smiles that Theo knew unnerved the most, if not all, of them.

Scott let out an exhale, feeling the tension in the room climbing dangerously up. He turned to look at the Sheriff as if giving him the floor.

“I found Raeken at the Preserve last night,” the Sheriff simply stated.

“Great start, now how about telling us the full details and avoid the ‘lying by omission’ part,” Stiles piped up.

The Sheriff glanced unimpressed at his son before pulling out a folder from his jacket and dropping it on the coffee table with a subtle flap. “Right after the war, Agent McCall, Argent, Hale, and I had agreed on keeping an eye on a certain Blue Toyota Tundra. It wasn’t that hard,” Theo knew he left the part where his deputies had been catching sight of his truck even before the war. “Before any violent reactions, none of you kids knew about this, Scott was only informed before I made contact last night.”

“Traitor,” Stiles whispered heatedly as he whipped his head towards Derek’s direction. It was pointedly ignored by everyone in the room.

“You were tracking me?” Theo asked, head turning to look at the Sheriff.

“It is to everyone’s knowledge what you did in the war with us, Raeken, and we’re grateful for that,” Argent said, earning Theo’s immediate attention, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he fixed a steady gaze on him. His voice was unwavering, carrying an undeniable weight. “But let’s not forget what you’ve done before,” he continued, his words slicing through the tension in the room, a stark reminder of the past that would always shadow Theo’s identity. “This isn’t personal; it’s just a precaution.”

Theo forced out a smirk. “Clever.”

“Our verdict to keep an eye on you was made after a unanimous decision of the McCall pack to let you walk out as a free man,” Derek stated tiredly, pointedly ignoring Stiles’ aghast expression.

Theo scoffed, somehow feeling the opposite of free after knowing he was being watched at his every move. “Lucky me,” he drawled.

Derek leaned in, expression hard. “You should be,” he insisted, voice firm. “You were vouched—not once, but twice—by Scott’s first bitten beta. You would be in a lot more different situation if he hadn’t.”

Theo blanked out the minute those words processed inside his head, eyes immediately darting to look at the youngest werewolf in the room. He felt his own heartbeat spiking and willed his best to suppress it. It’s dangerous to leave himself open, everyone in the room would do the same thing if they could. Liam looked tired, Theo noticed, but everyone in the room probably was.

“So why finally make contact?” Lydia said, asking the important questions. “We’ve decided to leave him be while the four of you kept an eye on him, for what, the past couple of months?” Her eyes are sharp, as if expecting something, bad news that could shake them. “What changed?”

“Because as of yesterday at exactly one thirty seven p.m., Theo’s truck was found driving off from Beacon Hills, only to return less than a minute later,” The Sheriff answered, adjusting the hold on his belt. “Usually that wouldn’t be a cause for concern but before that, his truck was parked an hour long by the signage.”

“You thought I was being suspicious,” Theo merely stated. It didn't need any clarification, everyone in the room was already thinking the same thing, he just chose to voice it out.

“It was a valid conclusion,” Argent said, not denying it.

Theo didn’t argue; the truth was undeniable. He had spent a full hour fiddling with the steering wheel, his gaze fixated on the long, straight road that beckoned him out of town. He could have started fresh—everything was packed and ready to go. Leaving wouldn’t bring any change in Beacon Hills, so why stay? He drove off, he did, but he immediately turned the wheel around and didn’t look back.

He’s homeless and broke. There’s nothing for him here, leaving might’ve been the best option for him and anyone with a brain would know this. That if they were in Theo’s shoes. They would’ve bolted out of this town without a second’s thought.

Only Theo stayed.

Theo breathed, refraining himself from shaking. He felt angry somehow, why? He didn't know. Emotions come and go so suddenly that Theo couldn’t understand why he’s feeling them. And sometimes it’s just there, slowly filling him up to the point of bursting.

“What do you want to hear from me?” Theo found himself asking.

Scott took a step, eyes firm in determination. “It’s not what we want to hear, it’s what we need to hear,” he said, Theo stared, knowing full well what would come out of McCall’s mouth next. “We need you to stop masking nor manipulating your scent and heartbeat for this to work.”

“And if I don’t?” Theo challenged.

“You’re really in no position to be able to make that threat,” Scott answered, making it well known how much he is at a disadvantage here. He’s only one person in a room filled with supernatural beings. Beings that he’d worked with them just a few months ago for the same goal.

The only thing was. “It’s not a threat,” Theo corrected.

McCall might not be the brightest tool in the shed but he’s also not clueless. Whatever expression Theo had on his face, he read it carefully and believed what he saw. Theo didn't own a lot of things, there aren’t many he wants to keep close to himself, showing vulnerability was one of them. With all the spiralling emotions that came to him in bouts of suddenness, the choice to mask everything was personal.

“Scott, you serious right now?” Stiles exclaimed. “Did you already forget what happened the last time you trusted this guy?”

“I remember that he saved Liam’s ass in the hospital the last time I trusted him to come,” Scott answered.

Lydia’s gaze sharpened, her expression shifting into one of keen awareness that suggested she had picked up on a detail that others had overlooked. For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, a silent exchange, before Theo instinctively broke the connection, glancing away. But, the interruption came too late; that short exchange had already given Lydia the insight she needed to make her own conclusion.

“Alright enough, before this spirals into a different problem entirely,” the Sheriff interrupted before turning to stare at Theo. “We have questions, questions that you need to answer,” he said emphasizing the word as if drilling it hard into Theo’s skull. “And we wouldn’t know if it’s true or not if it came out of your mouth.”

Theo smiled at that, knowing he would piss a lot of people in this room. “Then you’ll just have to believe me and pray that what I say is real.”

Stiles let out an annoyed sound and stood up to pace around the room. “This would’ve been a lot easier if we had something over your head,” he groused.

“If you’re trying to make me feel guilty for breaking the sword—” Liam started.

“I am, I really am.”

“—you’re doing a piss-ass job at it.”

“Liam,” Scott called. “You’re mantra,” he reminded, noticing the subtle shift in Liam’s tone.

That startled the beta, who immediately straightened up. “No, I—” he stammered, pausing for a moment before taking a deep breath. The tension that was released from his shoulders was palpable to everyone in the room. “It’s fine; I can handle it.”

A shift occurred in the room, something Theo couldn’t quite understand. Whatever it was, that brief exchange had made the pack realize something significant—it was a clarification for them. It was also clear that it was a topic that could not be openly discussed, especially with him still being present here in the room with them.

“Oh fuck no,” Stiles all but exclaimed, staring at the beta as if he just committed a form of betrayal, acknowledging an issue that Theo has no context for.

Liam frowned. “I wasn’t lying,” he defended, voice pitching high enough to remind Theo of his age.

“Yeah, we got that covered real well right now,” Stiles exhaled manically and disappointedly.

“Stiles,” Derek warned tiredly, a hand over his face.

Stiles whipped around to stare at the older man. “This is a valid reaction, my reaction is valid,” he defended before turning around the room and noticing everyone’s expression. “That we will need to discuss right after this one first.”

“Smart,” Lydia commented.

Scott exhaled and promptly returned his attention to Theo. “After a deliberate choice to leave, why’d you come back the second you crossed the border?”

There’s nothing to gain if he lied, and there’s also nothing to gain if he said the complete truth. Theo would rather stay closed than be read like an open book. “Monroe,” he answered, nothing more, nothing less.

“Monroe?” Scott parroted

“You heard me.”

There was a pause.

“You think you’re safe here in Beacon Hills while Monroe is still out there?” Scott asked. Prompting Theo to scoff smugly being that the question was far from the real reason he stayed.

“You just pissed off an amateur hunter who knows how to use flowery words better than I do,” Theo stated with fake contentment. “She’s still out there, bitter about her loss against you. She could be plotting her revenge right now, and counting into consideration how long it’s been, she’s for sure better armed than before. You really think I stayed because Beacon Hills’ the safest place for us?” He found himself laughing bitterly. “No, this town is her target.”

Deep down, everyone knows this, it’s the only reason why Scott always comes back to town when his university is miles away from here.

“Maybe we do have something against you,” Lydia suddenly announced, her voice slightly unsure but determined. Theo’s face blanked out, all fake bravado immediately erasing across his face. “I’m sure you know what anchors are, Theodore Raeken.”

Theo stared, hoping where this was going wasn’t the one he was thinking. “I don’t have one,” he’s designed to be stripped of human connection, the laws of the supernatural don't completely apply to him, not when his whole creation was artificial. The Doctors made sure of his inability to be tethered to something or someone was successful. “I was made not to need one.”

“But you have something that’s just as close to it,” Lydia continued, her gaze hard. “Because at the end of the day, you’re just as human as the rest of us.”

Emotions.

Attachments.

Words that Theo shouldn’t know the meaning circled inside his head, knowing full well what it meant now, because sending him to hell wasn’t punishment enough. Getting his heart taken over and over again wasn’t enough for all the things he’d done. And now he’s backed up in a corner where his weakness could get known at any given moment.

Stiles, ever the bright kid he was, had immediately picked up on what Lydia had noticed and probably even more. Head going into overdrive as his thoughts spiraled, Theo saw it all happen through the expression on his face.

“Hell changed you,” Stiles stated. “Didn’t it?” It wasn’t a question. But Theo was more than okay with answering it.

“You would too if you came down there with me,” he challenged.

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. Brave enough now that there finally was something he could hold over Theo’s head. “You left Beacon Hills because there isn’t a reason to stay, but you decided to come back because Monroe is still out there, a threat to something, or someone—” Theo’s jaw hardened. “Someone who means a hell of a lot more to you than you’re willing to admit.”

Bullseye.

No matter how long he stayed living in his truck, plagued with nightmares and regret that kept him heaving and screaming alone in this god forsaken town. The decision to stay and protect was still stronger, and it terrifies him that he became human enough to have these strong feelings that could be used against him. And it’s scary that he’ll gladly let himself be used so that nothing he cares about is put into danger.

It’s pathetic.

He’s mad at himself for it.

Theo stared back, hands fisted close to his side, doing his god damn best not to let his gaze stray, not when one simple eye movement can give Stiles the leverage he needed. Theo’s jaw was tense, hard enough to break teeth. He took one deep shaky breath and let it out relaxed, smiling mischievously as he did so. “Bravo, you’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” he said, earning him a satisfying glare. “What now? You want to know the name? Use it more against me? Is that it?”

“We’re not here searching for blackmail,” the Sheriff interjected.

Theo snorted. “Could’ve fooled me,” he mocked. “because you are terrifyingly doing a horrible job at it.”

“Stiles, please sit down,” Scott ordered, before waiting for Theo to stare back at him to continue. “I know tensions are high but Noah’s right, we’re not here to blackmail you. The pack was serious when we decided to let you go even though most of us said otherwise. Still my decision stands, you’re a free man, Theo, what the Sheriff did was for precaution, something even you would know is a valid reason especially with your colorful background.

“But,” Scott took a deep breath. “I am willing to admit that we’re forcing your hand right now because we can’t find the reason to fully trust you, Theo.”

“So you needed leverage,” He answered. “Smart move, but what do you want from me, exactly?”

”We’ve deduced that your decision to come back was somehow tied to Monroe, for what reason, we don’t know,” Argent said. “But now that we do, it’s best to assume we have the same goal in mind.”

“Putting an end to Monroe,” Derek announced, standing up, how he managed to make those cheesy lines work, Theo could only wonder.

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to work for you?”

”No,” Scott immediately disagreed. “We want your cooperation,” he said, causing an eruption of complaints from the pack that Scott immediately shut down. “It’s well acknowledged that you're deceptively smart, strategic even. With Lydia and Stiles mostly out of commission, you’re likely our only help on tracking Monroe down.”

“Hey, I can still help just as fine,” Stiles exclaimed, offended, hands waving exaggeratedly.

“You led us to a dead end because of your finals,” Derek replied.

“And you haven’t replied to my text for three months now,” Malia added.

Stiles stared at her before animatedly pulling out his phone, scrolling through his list of contacts before reading what was displayed on the screen. “No, Scott’s jaw was already a birth defect,” he answered vocally to what seemed to be a long overdue text message.

It wasn’t missed by anyone when Scott consciously dragged a hand under his chin. “Dude.”

“Seriously?” Lydia exclaimed. “Can we please keep track of one issue at a time?” It wasn’t said, but the implication was obvious, Stiles needs to shut up.

“Well, Raeken,” the Sheriff said, earning the teenager’s attention. “What’s it gonna be?’

They made it sound like he had a choice. Theo made a pass around the room, noting how each and every one’s expression made it obvious that they had their own thoughts about the matter and would likely want to have a private discussion with Scott right after this.

Liam’s expression was hard, anticipating Theo’s answer as if whatever came out of his mouth was something just as important for him to hear.

But it wasn’t telling him anything.

Because that’s what Theo’s main concern wasn’t it? Liam’s well-being was the only thing keeping him tied here in Beacon Hills, all his efforts to keep him alive would have been for naught if Monroe managed to get a hold of him. Theo didn’t want to acknowledge why his priorities seemed to realign themselves once Liam Dunbar entered the list. He didn't know what it meant, and why it became that way. He chose not to delve into it; it was less confusing that way.

“Okay,” Theo finally answered, straightening up. “Just until we find Monroe,” I’ll stay until then was left unsaid.

As if on cue, the room erupted into a cacophony of divided reactions, voices rising and overlapping in a flurry of disagreement and concern.

---

Theo leaned back against the doorframe, his expression one of mild amusement as he observed Liam fumble through a clumsy explanation to his parents. Liam’s words stumbled and skated around the truth, attempting to persuade them that Theo needed to live with them for a short time—just until Derek’s apartment was ready for occupancy. Theo’s brow raised slightly, hinting at his boredom, as he watched the scene unfold, the air thick with Liam's transparent excuses and his parents’ skeptical glances. The room felt heavy with unspoken tension, while Theo's mind wandered, detached from the charade.

Liam’s a shit liar.

The best-case scenario: he’ll be sleeping by the porch yard, and Theo would rather sleep in his truck than on wet dirt.

Theo rolled his shoulders and placed on a facade of a troubled and embarrassed kid before inserting himself in the conversation. It had been a while since he last pretended for his well-being, a whole time in hell long ago.

Most of what he said couldn’t be said as a lie though, I’m a friend of Liam’s, his relationship with Liam was civil at best, I don’t have a place to stay, he lives in his truck, I don’t have anyone to run to, he’s been an orphan by choice, the closest parents he could tell were three dead doctors who had altered his biology and deemed him a failure, It- It’s just temporary, just until I can pick up for myself, just until the McCall pack deemed him trustworthy enough not to be kept an eye on.

It was easier to tell the story of poor Theodore Raeken when he could stretch the truth until it became a lie. Easier to go with the flow, as flowery yet hiddenly thorned words spat out from his mouth, slowly earning the heart of Liam’s parents. He placed timed expressions and stuttered words to better sell the story.

They successfully had the guest room lent to Theo for the foreseeable future.

“What the hell was that?” Liam hissed when Theo dropped his duffel bag on the floor of the guest room. “You’re too good a liar and you went with vulnerability?”

“And you’re shit at it,” Theo snapped, turning around as the facade dropped off completely from his demeanor. “Sad troubled kids are easier to sell, besides, we got the room, no thanks to you.”

Liam guffawed, offended. “Hey, fuck you, I was doing just fine until you butted in with your fake sob story and full-body lie,” he snapped, Theo only gave him a dried look, close on reminding him that at one point Liam stared at Theo blankly, as if the answer to a good lie was printed across his face. “Now you have to play pretend and be this sad lonely teenager in front of my parents.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed pointedly at the younger teenager in the room. “Your pack trusted me long enough so that I can kill McCall, I think I can handle your parents,” he sneered. “Besides I won’t have to pretend to your parents twenty-four seven, I’ll be at the sheriff’s station.”

Supernaturals were still a fragile topic within the town, any cases related to or mildly hinted towards it were discussed behind closed doors. It’s a poor attempt at normalcy right after the war and Anuke-Ite had ended. It’s obvious that working on a case that’s searching for Monroe wouldn’t look appealing in the eyes of Liam’s parents. A few exchanges of ideas later and it was unanimously agreed that Theo would be working at the sheriff station as a consultant.

(“Dad,” Stiles said, clearly beginning to voice out his discomfort at the idea.

“I’m the Sheriff, and I have a hellhound beside me,” the Sheriff sighed wearily. “That’s way better than your skinny ass.”

Stiles only stared at him, aghast and betrayed.)

“I just,” Liam continued, staring off at the far distance, jaw hard. “I don’t like it when we lie to them.”

Theo scoffed. “What, like what you've been doing, since when? Since Scott bit you?” Reminding the beta that they’re not really sitting on any high horse. “If you don’t want to keep lying to your parents, maybe you should start thinking of telling them what life you’ve been leading since getting kicked out of Devenford.”

He’d expected Liam’s anger to be explosive, he’d seen it firsthand. What he hadn’t expected was for the other teenager to glare at him before exhaling defeatedly, as if finding Theo’s words a form of advice and not just to spite him. Because in hindsight, it was advice, a harsh one at best.

“I just don’t think they’re ready for that yet,” was Liam’s small reply.

Who would be? The reason Noah and Melissa knew about the supernatural was because lives were at stake and neither party had control over the impending situation. Liam’s parents still live in that blissful naivety, and quite frankly, Theo can see the appeal of why Liam wanted to keep it that way.

Theo crossed his arms over his chest, a question popping up inside his head. “You should’ve thought about that before voluntarily taking in a chimera,” The statement took Liam by surprise, especially with that obvious full-body jerk back. Theo decidedly ignored the action and read it as nothing but startlement.

Not a lot of things surprise Theo, but Liam’s enthusiasm at voluntarily taking him in was a complete left field. Theo knew, out of all the members of the McCall pack, Liam’s the person he’d spent most of his time with ever since coming back from hell. He also knew that the beta had vouched for his freedom to stay on the living world. But their relationship wasn’t that deep to warrant this reaction, no matter how many times he saved his life.

"That's different," Liam exclaimed. If Theo was planning to press further on the topic, the younger teen waved a dismissive hand to stop him. “Whatever, just try not to feel at home," he added wearily before stepping out of the room.

Theo was left standing alone in the guest room, it barely looked used but it’s far better than the backseat of his truck. He decided to be productive and fix up his belongings, moving kept his mind from getting astray, it didn’t take him long considering there aren’t many that he owns, the only thing worth stealing from him was his car.

Theo laid down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, it’s off white and some corners have cracks due to time. The room feels just as empty as the ones at the Stilinski’s. Theo could hear footsteps downstairs and Liam pacing around the next room, he could hear Mrs. Geyer (Call me Jenna) puttering around the kitchen while Dr. Geyer (David’s fine)spends his time in the living room, watching television.

Theo’s tired, and he could feel it bone deep.

Simply agreeing to help wasn’t enough for the McCall pack to back off. There were a lot of what-ifs and what-shoulds that were thrown in the basket. It almost took them a whole day to reach an agreement and even then some still weren’t happy. Liam’s offer to keep an eye on him was the only thing that didn’t seem to be a problem. Granted the skepticism was blatantly there but it felt more like that if the situation were different, they wouldn’t agree to this.

There was something that Theo didn’t know. And based on the whole pack’s reaction, it should remain that way. Theo could try, it wouldn’t be that hard, but what was there to gain? It wasn’t like he was dying to know, knowing wouldn’t satisfy him. They already don’t trust him, not that he’s trying to win their favors, but given that he only laid on this bed for a few minutes, he’d like to enjoy the feeling as long as he can.

Liam was listening to music, Theo noticed. Something upbeat.

Theo spent a few hours just sensing what the other boy was doing. It wasn’t grounding, he wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t need an anchor, but the idea of just knowing felt nice. Theo fears this might be how stalkers started out.

With his colorful background, as they say, that would’ve been the least problematic thing he’d done.

It wasn’t that long before Mrs. Geyer called them for dinner. Theo wanted to pass, he’d dealt with a crowd of skeptical people for the whole day, and he was emotionally tired to even deal and fake his way through Liam’s family for the remaining hours.

Funny. Back then he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.

Chapter Text

“This isn’t about Monroe,” Theo stated, jaw hard as he barged his way inside the Sheriff’s office.

It had been a week or less since he started staying at the Geyers’. Most had already left to return to their Universities and today was Theo’s first time in the Sheriff’s Office where he was finally given a job that didn’t involve reorganizing old documents. Apparently, being in the era of digitized paper still didn't change the slow process of approving an application when the computer is older than their grandma.

“It isn’t,” the Sheriff agreed, closing the folder he was reading and sliding it aside.

“I only agreed to help find Monroe, I did not sign up for anything other than that,” Theo reminded the older man before flinging the case folder on the table. “You don’t need to test my intelligence, if you’re that unsure, why did you offer in the first place?”

“I’m not unsure,” the Sheriff said, disagreeing.

“You, gave me a case file of a missing girl,” Theo pressed, gritting his teeth from the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Don’t you have other deputies for that?”

The Sheriff only leaned back. “I’m trying to prove something,” he said under his breath, Theo’s eyes narrowed dangerously, having no mood to deal with people who wanted him to prove himself to be trustworthy enough for this job. They went to him, he was minding his own damn business and they went to him. Theo didn’t beg for their approval, he was sleeping in his fucking truck.

“Did you even look at the profile?” The Sheriff questioned.

Theo did, but couldn’t remember what the child looked like, he stormed inside the Sheriff’s office the second he realized the case didn’t have any relation to Monroe. “Does that matter?”

“Her name’s Maxine,” Theo stilled, hands falling limply at his side. “She was last seen two nights ago, playing with her dog by the front porch. Her parents tried looking for her at that playground she likes to visit when she walks her dog, but she wasn’t there.”

Theo was young when he was tasked to lure victims for the Doctors, victims that he would later watch on an operating table, hearing their screams as those dying eyes never stopped staring at him. He was great at it, luring children his age, making tricks to get their attention, and gaining their trust, before dragging them down the sewers.

After the Doctors, after the Ghost Riders, after the war, Theo met a bright-eyed kid when he was on his way to the diner he frequents. She was very loud and talkative, holding her vibrating chihuahua like a stuffed toy. Asking him where she could buy a drink because she was thirsty.

She was too trusting, too naive, if Theo was still working for the Doctors, she would be a very easy target. She said her name was Maxine when Theo held his hand as they crossed the street, he bought her a milkshake even with barely any money in his wallet.

Theo never saw her again after that.

It’s been three months since then.

“You still don’t wanna take the case?” It was a question, but it didn’t sound like one. It’s like the Sheriff already knew what Theo was going to say.

So Theo didn’t say anything, he only took the case file and walked out of the room. Small victories still count.

For the next few hours, Theo’s table was filled with scratch papers while staring at a smaller version of the Beacon Hills map he printed an hour ago. He circled areas that could be of suspicion and crossed out areas that the deputies have already checked. Theo briefly wondered if she was down in the sewers, but that was ruled out when Parrish told him they'd already searched the area and no one was there.

Worst-case scenario, she could be dead.

Theo leaned back and stared at the cracked ceiling. On paper, he’s only an acting consultant and he gets paid decently, but Theo couldn’t help but feel a phantom chain wrapped around his ankle. He’s not being treated poorly, nor was he being discriminated against, but he wasn’t stupid to feel those eyes watching his every move, as if waiting for something to happen.

Exhaling, Theo returned to his stack of papers and stretched his back. She couldn’t be gone just like that, her parents said they didn’t have anyone who hated them enough to take her, and even if that happened, shouldn’t there be a ransom by now? They aren’t rich, they’re just a simple small family getting by.

Two nights ago.

Theo tapped the marker on his table.

Two nights ago, Liam spent his time finishing his biology homework on the floor of Theo’s room. He was snappish and easily angered, which amused Theo when Liam was basically spitting out the words when he asked for the older boy’s assistance, Liam might’ve been good at History but he’s hopeless in Biology. Theo just got home from the Sheriff’s office at that point and was drained from sorting mountains of old cases, Mrs. Geyer was downstairs washing dishes while Dr. Geyer was basically half unconscious watching television after a long shift, something about the atmosphere felt serene and Theo wasn’t too keen to disrupt it by pissing Liam off.

Something was different two nights ago: the way Liam took deep breaths every now and then whenever he couldn’t answer a question. The way Liam would immediately assume the worst whenever Theo stared blankly at him when he answered a simple question wrong, irritably asking if Theo thinks he’s stupid. The way his anger seems to be only held back by a thin thread.

“How long have you been working on that?” Theo asked. Twenty minutes, Liam has been working on this one homework for twenty minutes, twenty-two since he entered Theo’s room. Why Theo’s been keeping track, he would rather not think about.

“Why, you think I’m stupid for working on this for half an hour and you could finish it in less?” Liam snapped, staring at his worksheet, pen gripping hard enough to break.

“Mental gymnastics suits Stiles more, not you,” Theo replied dryly before sitting up straight, Liam looked up and glared. “And no, that’s not what I’m implying.”

“Are you implying that other than being an unhelpful jerk to me right now, you’re being a gigantic pain in the ass?”

“Having IED sure brings out that colorful mouth of yours,” Theo mocked. “You’ve been working for twenty minutes, not thirty. Flip your worksheet and close your eyes for another twenty before continuing.”

Liam gave him a look. “You telling me to waste twenty minutes?”

“I’m telling you to take a break, Dunbar,” Theo almost rolled his eyes. “Your attitude isn’t going to help you finish quicker.”

Liam was reluctant at first, staring at his work for about a minute before grunting in defeat, adjusting his sitting position, leaning his back against Theo’s bedframe, tipping his head back, and closing his eyes before taking a deep breath. The tension that left his shoulders was immediate that even Theo was surprised at how well that worked.

It took a few hours but Liam managed to finish his homework, the tension on his shoulders growing by the minute and would only be released whenever he hit the twenty-minute mark. If Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought that Liam would rather sleep on the floor of Theo’s room if given the chance. But Theo does know better, so when Liam’s breathing had evened out and his eyes were closed for longer than twenty minutes, Theo was quick to shove his shoulder, jolting the other boy awake.

“You have your own room, go sleep in there.” Theo had said.

When Liam tried to blink his sleep away, Theo had a minute to think if he’ll likely end up dragging Liam across the hall by the foot, but the younger boy seemed to slowly notice that he wasn’t in his room before hastily picking up his things and leaving, muttering a short apology while he tripped his way out, hair sticking out at odd angles.

The room oddly felt too big after that.

Theo blinked back from reality before turning to look at Parrish. “Lend me your lunar calendar,” he asked, already extending a hand.

Parrish gave him a look before twisting to grab his calendar at the other side of his table and lending it to the younger man. “You think it’s a supernatural thing?”

Theo scoffed. “When is it not a supernatural thing?” It wasn’t a question that needed answering.

Theo stared at the date and it was proven that two nights ago, there was a full moon. Theo should give props to Liam, his control on his anger improved drastically, it’s a very impressive feat. Not a lot of werewolves could avoid shape-shifting under a full moon, previous research told him that not long ago, Liam still needed to chain himself against a tree.

“I’m heading out, don’t wait up,” Theo said, already up on his feet, not waiting for approval since he wasn’t technically asking for one.

If Parrish asked where he was going, Theo pretended not to hear it.

---

Theo’s phone had died hours ago. He stared up at the high moon, a silver coin in the black sky, and wondered if he was past midnight or just getting started on a new day. He was deep in the preserve, searching for a little girl, but the state of her body no longer mattered. Whether he found a cold, rotting corpse or something else, he was bringing a body home. Three nights had been long enough.

Something caught Theo’s eye. He turned, and there stood Tara, staring back at him with a haunted look. Theo froze, his breath catching in his throat. He swallowed hard, looked away, and counted to three. When he looked back, the spot was empty.

No one was there.

Theo continued walking.

Sometimes, Theo wondered if he died down there, and the one who came back was barely a version of him.

Deeper and deeper Theo ventured into the woods. The trees closed in, their branches weaving into a thick canopy as the wind turned to a biting chill. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath his feet was a welcome noise—the only thing that kept him from turning to face the dark figure flitting at the edge of his sight. She drew closer with every turn of the path, until he felt her presence, a cold breath on the back of his neck. He spun around, but the woods were empty.
He was still alone.

“Get a fucking grip, Theo,” he told himself. It’s been months, close to a year since the war ended, that should’ve been enough, long enough to fix whatever it was that was wrong with him.

I am not that kind of doctor, Theo. Deaton had told him once.

All those emotions he knew he had now, it wasn’t something he enjoyed the first time he encountered them. They clung to him, and no matter how many deep breaths he took, how hard he clenched his fists, or how many wounds he inflicted upon himself, they were always there, muted, but present. The feelings would come back with a vengeance whenever he let himself think too much. With no one to guide him, he'd found that physical pain was the only thing that seemed to quiet the emotional turmoil he kept falling into.

Theo didn’t know how long he’d walked, at some point he should’ve been able to see a clearing but every step he took just made him even more disconnected from the world.

She was still there. Every step he took, she followed, as if waiting for the right moment to reach out and grab. Theo gripped his hands into tight fists, taking one shaky breath after another, he knew she wasn’t here, Tara couldn’t be here, no matter how real the illusion felt.

The sharp clang of metal snapping shut on fragile bone and flesh stopped Theo in his tracks. A girl's scream tore through the air, and he was already running before it even ended. He plunged through the dense trees, ignoring the branches that clawed at his face.

He skidded to a stop, his gaze locked on the scene.

Under a dying tree, Maxine sat hunched over, her hair matted with dirt, her clothes torn and scratched. Her small hands were painted dark with grime and blood, her face thinner than he remembered. The vibrant smile he knew was gone, replaced by a mask of terror. But none of that mattered. What held his attention was the rusted metal bear trap clamped around her dainty leg, and the ragged gasps of air tearing from her throat.

"Don't come near me!" she shrieked, fumbling for a stick too heavy for her frail arms to lift. “I-I-I have a stick!”

Theo raised both hands in a gesture of surrender “Hey,” he called, voice low and soft. A grim memory surfaced of using that exact voice to lure others to the Doctors. “Remember me?” He asked, hoping to whatever god up there that Theo’s pretty face was enough to make an impression on a child.

Maxine watched him, her tear-streaked face blank, until a flicker of recognition crossed her eyes. The stick she was holding fell with a soft thud. Theo was quick to close the distance, but the moment he knelt before her, he froze. He was accustomed to just hearing the scream of the operating table. He had no idea what to do with an injured, crying child.

He wasn’t one for using soothing words.

“There-there were big dogs,” she cried, small injured hands wiping away her own tears.

Theo gently pushed her hands aside. Using the hem of his shirt, he wiped the streaks of grime and tears from her face. The fabric was dirty—a few hours in the woods had seen to that—but it was cleaner than her own bloodied hands. Theo might need to wash his own clothes after this.

“I bet it was really scary,” Theo said, gently wiping her face.

She let out a soft sob and nodded, but the small movement jostled her leg. A sharp cry of pain escaped her lips.

“It hurts,” she whimpered, voice quivering in pain. “It really hurts.” New tears started to fill her eyes.

I bet it does. Theo thought, but didn’t say. “I can help you with that,” he said instead. “But it’ll hurt more to get it off,” The sharp, panicked breaths she took in response told him he had chosen the wrong thing to say. “Hold on to me tightly," he urged, and she clung to him, her small arms a desperate vise around his neck.

Ever since Gabe, Theo hadn’t taken anyone’s pain. There was no one to take it from. With Mason’s words ringing loud in his ear, Theo didn't know if he cared enough to take Maxine’s pain away. He wanted to, but wanting didn't necessarily equate that he cares. He desperately wanted to take Mason’s pain away that day as well.

Theo braced himself, gripping both ends of the bear trap, its rusty metal glistening with blood. “Take a deep breath,” he told Maxine. She only tightened her hold. “On three,” he said, adjusting his grip as she began to shake. “One—”

Theo snapped the trap open.

Maxine screamed. Her whole body shook violently against him. Theo scrambled to find his footing, pressing his hand against her broken leg. Hoping. Wishing. He felt the pain surge up his arm and into his chest, and for a moment, the relief was so overwhelming he almost choked on it. It was painful, my god was it painful, but Theo couldn’t find it in him to care less.

“Does it still hurt?” He asked, voice muffled as he buried his nose against her dirty hair.

Her sobs slowly subsided into hiccuping breaths. “No," she whispered. “No, it doesn't."

A few hours later, Theo stood at the entrance of the hospital's emergency room, Maxine unconscious in his arms. Her head rested peacefully in the crook of his neck, and he could feel the steady beat of her heart against his chest, her small hands gripping him tightly. She's too trusting, he thought. And wasn't that a sin?

Theo had ripped the right sleeve of his shirt to make a bandage, trying to stem the blood that continued to flow from her leg. Her skin was torn and her bones were broken into pieces. He tried to be gentle, so gentle, but every small movement made her bleed more. Humans were so fragile. Children, even more so.

A long time ago, he had been more fragile than any of them.

After all these years, no matter how much he changed, he always found himself at a hospital. The form might be different, but the ending was the same. It felt like a running joke, and Theo was the punchline.

He took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The first face he saw was Melissa's.

“Theo, what are— Oh god, give her here,” she said, her arms reaching out with a practiced gentleness. She scooped Maxine away from his arms. The little girl squirmed, but remained asleep.

Beacon Hills was a small town, and the instant recognition in Melissa's eyes was followed by a look Theo couldn't read.

“Bear trap.” Theo said, providing a blunt explanation instead. “She’s in a lot of pain,” he added, remembering those countless times he had to take Maxine’s pain away, and feeling the impact of it each time.

“We’ll need to call her parents,” she said. “Do you—You can—”

You can leave.

“I need a phone charger,” Theo interrupted.

Melissa blinked. “A charger?” she repeated, a hint of confusion in her voice. Theo only stared back, his expression unreadable. “Sure,” she finally said. “I can lend you mine.”

Moments later, Theo sat huddled in the corner of the waiting room, hunched over an outlet with his phone plugged in. He was covered in dirt and dried blood, his hair a mess of dead leaves and thorns. When the phone finally booted up, the hallway filled with the oncoming pings of his notifications. Theo muted it instantly, wincing at the noise.

There were a lot of missed calls from Mrs. Geyer and Liam, a missed call from Scott and three from the Sheriff. Theo winced. There were also messages from Mrs. Geyer, asking where he was and if he’s coming home for the night, her last message was her asking if he was safe. Theo didn’t know what to answer the last one, so he just didn’t.

He promptly ignored Liam’s thirty-three messages and instead clicked on the Sheriff’s name.

I’m setting some new ground rules. The message said, nothing more, nothing less. And it was sent just a minute ago. Theo turned to stare at where Melissa had left moments ago, briefly wondering when she found the time to even send a text. Theo sent a thumbs up emoji just to be a jerk.

Maybe it was the fatigue, but Theo was too late to realize that familiar heartbeat getting closer until Dr. Geyer was standing a few feet away from him, staring at his face with this pinched off expression, lips pressed together as he took in Theo’s crouched position.

"Dr. Geyer," Theo greeted, slowly straightening up and wincing as his knees protested. He was testing the waters, trying to figure out how deep in the mess he was.

"Theo," Dr. Geyer acknowledged. The lack of a ‘call me David’ was all the confirmation Theo needed

Dr. Geyer took a few steps closer, slipping his hands into the pockets of his slacks. His eyes flickered to Theo’s charging phone before settling on the younger man. A hundred questions swam in Dr. Geyer’s eyes, but he asked only one:

“Will I be seeing you at home after this?”

‘Home’ was still a word Theo knew but didn't know what it really meant. He hadn’t had a home since he was nine. Theo looked away briefly. “I’m still waiting for her parents.”

Dr. Geyer’s eyes narrowed questioningly. “Parents?”

“Maxine’s.”

Dr. Geyer glanced back toward the surgical wing, as if remembering something, then turned to Theo again. “The missing girl?”

“Not anymore,” Theo muttered, feeling a strange sense of unease at the word ‘missing.’ She was found. Alive. It didn't feel right to label her as still.

Just then, the doors from the ER burst open. A couple rushed in, asking frantically about their little girl, demanding where she was and wanting to know if she was doing okay. Theo just stared from afar, watching as one of the nurses calmly explained about their daughter’s situation. The scene was unsettling, he didn't know why. He was relieved, yes, but something ugly was curling at the pit of his stomach and Theo didn't know what to call it.

“You can talk to them if you want,” Dr. Geyer said.

Theo turned to him, shaking his head. “No, it's fine.” He didn't want to. He knelt, pulled his phone off the charger, and handed the cord to Liam’s stepdad. “Can you give this back to Mrs. McCall?” he asked. “I'll be seeing you back at the house."

The older man stared at the offered object before hesitantly taking it. “Sure,” he said. “Drive safe.”

He left before the couple could see him, a phantom in the background of a family reunion he wanted no part of. No one called him out on it.

---

At a quarter past two, Theo's truck rolled to a stop in the Geyer-Dunbar driveway. The second the front door opened, Liam's fist was already in motion. The satisfying crunch of his nose breaking was a familiar sound, a feeling of déjà vu he couldn’t bring himself to appreciate.

“Okay,” Mrs. Geyer said a few moments later, sitting across from Theo at the dining table who was holding an ice packet to his face with Liam sitting beside him, arms crossed, a furious scowl on his face. “I’m setting some new ground rules—Liam, honey, stop making that face.”

“You should take her advice, or your pretty little face will stay stuck looking like that,” Theo taunted, voice tired and slightly muffled.

Liam glared at him, a full body swivel with his fist clenched hard at the side. “You think this is funny, Theo?”

“You broke my nose.” Theo retorted with a shrug.

“How about I break your face, see how you like it.”

“Boys,” Mrs. Geyer snapped, earning both teenagers attention back at her. She took a deep breath as if composing herself before letting it out, her gaze firm on Theo. “I understand that there are things that will keep you out of the house. I don’t know what you do at the Sheriff’s office but I assume it’s something important,” she started voice leveled, gesturing over his disheveled state. Theo assumed David had messaged her more or less about what had transpired at the hospital by now. “It would be nice if you could follow the curfew, but I won’t demand it of you if you really need to stay out late. Although I would appreciate it, if you could just inform us beforehand, because—“

Because it’s a hassle.

“—because I worry,” she finished, her voice a gentle surprise. Theo’s eyes snapped up. He stared at her, frowning and genuinely confused. Mrs. Geyer, taken aback by his reaction, glanced at Liam, a silent question that her son wasn’t able to answer. Awkwardly, Mrs. Geyer pretended to ignore the reaction and tried to continue her line of thought. “And— and it isn’t pretty when I worry.”

It made no sense. He wasn't her child. He was a freeloader, a dropout who was only a drain on her finances. Why would she worry? He had given her no reason to like nor pity him. He was barely in the house other than to eat or sleep. Why would his absence cause her to worry? Theo couldn’t seem to make sense out of it.

“Theo,” Mrs. Geyer called when Theo’s confused expression didn't seem to change. “What did you think this talk was going to be?”

“A reprimand,” he answered easily. “I guess? Or to kick me out?” He added when Mrs. Geyer kept staring at him, as if waiting for further explanation.

That didn't seem to be the right answer, especially with the baffled look she gave towards her son’s direction. Liam only had a clasped hand over his mouth, staring back at his mother. “I did say he’s troubled,” he replied weakly, briefly reminding Theo of Liam’s past rambles back when he was still asking his parents to let Theo stay with them.

“Am I not in trouble?” Theo asked, eyes narrowing, searching for a catch somehow.

“No,” Mrs. Geyer replied hastily, then corrected herself. “Well not yet,” she added. “You will be if this continues to happen.”

And it would continue to happen. Theo looked away, back at the dining table. “Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll text you if I’m staying out late.”

The relief that washed through Liam’s mother was palpable. “That would be nice,” she said, exhaling a relieved sigh. She nodded to herself and clasped her hands together. “Alright, why don’t you two boys head upstairs and wash up, you still have school later,” she ordered, the latter being more towards Liam.

Theo was quick to leave the room, thanking Mrs. Geyer (I said Jenna is fine) as he did so. Already feeling the grime on his skin starting to bother him. He was halfway towards his room when he felt Liam’s hand yanking him to turn around and was immediately faced with a familiar scowl, one he grew accustomed to and had known to deal with perfectly.

“Be honest,” Liam demanded. “What really happened?”

Theo scoffed. “You think I’m lying, Dunbar?”

“I think you can say whatever bullshit you have to say just for my mom to back off,” Liam replied. It made sense. Theo never stopped masking his chemosignals and suppressing his heartbeat, anything his mouth says will always be taken with a grain of salt. Liam’s skepticism wasn’t misplaced.

Theo was tired, he smelled like dirt and blood mixed together with sweat. His clothes are thorned up with a missing sleeve and his nose just recently fixed itself after it bled on the front door. Being called a liar, no matter how valid the reason behind it was, was somehow enough for Theo to simply grab hold of Liam’s hand and promptly place it on his chest, right against his heart, Tara’s heart.

“Wait—what are you—?” Liam stammered.

“I was searching for the missing girl,” Theo said. “And my phone ran out of battery.”

Liam took a sharp breath, staring at the hand on Theo’s chest, hearing and feeling the steady rhythm of Theo’s heartbeat. After being hidden for so long, Theo could feel his own pulse reverberate on Liam’s palm and back to his chest. Something about it felt oddly profound, a sense of gravitas that Theo couldn’t find in him to hate, but rather crave.

It was a bizarre, unexpected feeling, something he hadn’t known yet. Something he hadn’t discovered.

Theo hastily pushed Liam’s hand away, breaking whatever atmosphere was building between them, before putting back the mask like a shield. “Do you believe me now?”

Liam faked a cough and scratched a finger on his nose, his face becoming redder than usual. “Yeah, just—“ he stopped, breathed in and stared firmly at the older boy. “Why can’t you just keep it that way, wouldn’t it be easier to believe you if you stop hiding your heartbeat?”

“Personal choice,” Theo unhelpfully reasoned, voice flat. “I don’t like being read like an open book.”

Liam’s frown deepened.

“I don’t need your pack to trust me,” Theo continued, trust was something he shouldn’t be given. Not after all what he’d done, only the stupid ones would give Theo a second chance and trust him, someone who won’t get far in life. “They don’t have to if they don’t want to. We have the same goal, that should be enough of a leeway for us.”

Liam stayed silent, expression closed off. Theo didn't know what the younger boy was trying to prove here, or what his goal with this talk was, especially since Theo seemed to be the only one to be wasting his spit by talking. He meant to turn around and head straight to his room. He didn't know what came over him even after saying the next words.

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll let you feel my heartbeat,” he told Liam, causing the younger boy to stare up at him, a young expectant look on his face that almost startled Theo into silence, almost. “Only, if it’s important.” He warned. “Abuse it and the deal’s off.”

“Okay, sure,” Liam replied quickly, too quickly that Theo wondered if he did the right thing to even offer. “Just to be sure, this only applies to me, right?”

“Way to make yourself feel special, Liam,” Theo taunted. “But yeah, whatever makes you sleep at night,” he clarified before turning around and continuing to walk back to his room, no longer wanting to keep the conversation going. Who knows how far he’ll go just to appease Liam, he would rather not know. He stayed in Beacon Hills for him, that should be enough.

---

The Sheriff’s glare was firm and unforgiving. Theo refrained from adjusting on his seat, not wanting to give the old man the satisfaction that it somehow unnerved Theo to some extent. He’s been chopped to pieces and put back together over and over again, he’d been through a version of hell and back, he killed Scott McCall of all people. Sitting through the Sheriff’s confrontation shouldn’t even pose a problem to him.

It shouldn’t.

“You honestly can’t be angry with me,” Theo finally said, a hint of genuine bafflement in his tone. “I found the girl.”

“You finding the girl and me being royally pissed are two things that aren’t related,” the Sheriff snapped, stressfully rubbing his forehead.

“What is there to be pissed about?” Theo challenged. “You gave me a case, I solved it, the girl’s fine, her parents are happy, big whoop. Why the hell am I in trouble?”

“Because there are protocols, Theo, and you’re just a consultant,” the Sheriff bit back. Theo clamped his mouth shut. “Look, I am far relieved that you found her, but there are reasons why a deputy always has a partner with them. And I don’t care if you're a chimera or what, I know what you’re capable of, but I need to be informed of what you do.”

Theo wet his lips and stared at the corner of the office. “I was going to hand you a report,” he defended, the words sounding weak even to his own ears.

“What, right after going dark for twelve hours?” The Sheriff asked, Theo wanted to reason that his phone didn’t exactly die the second he left the office, so he didn’t technically close all communication for all of twelve hours. But he did ignore Parrish’s multiple messages. “Starting now, you’re bringing Parrish with you.”

That got Theo to violently react. He might’ve worked alongside the McCall pack during the war, but working with others hadn’t always ended well for him. He was always alone on this, Liam being the only exception.

“I am not bringing Parrish with me,” Theo argued.

“You are and you will,” The Sheriff said with finality. “Now get out of my office.”

Theo glared, a litany of reasons ready to escape his lips but unable to speak after that hard dismissal. Jaw closing hard with a click, Theo slammed his hand on the Sheriff’s table as he stood, an obvious portrayal of his displeasure that the older man blatantly ignored.

Theo was almost out the door, hand on the handle when the Sheriff opened his mouth and spoke:

“Before I forget, Maxine’s parents want to meet you.”

Theo stilled and turned, the Sheriff wasn’t looking at him, too busy writing something on a sheet of paper. A fleeting memory of Maxines’ parents bawling their eyes at the ER surfaced in his memory.

“Me?” He asked dumbly.

“They wanted to meet the person who found their daughter,” The Sheriff explained, pen scribbling continuously on the sheet of paper. Theo suddenly found it grating for some reason. “Do you want to meet them? I can set up the time.”

“I don’t,” Theo replied bluntly, the words automatic.

The Sheriff hummed, as if acknowledging his answer and already expecting the response. “I’ll be sure to pass the message.”

Theo left the room without a second glance.

“Here,” Parrish said the second Theo sat down, sliding two case files across their shared table.

“This better be about Monroe,” Theo gritted, snatching the folder and flipping it open to skim through a few stapled pages.

“One of them is,” the Hellhound answered calmly. “Definitely not the one you’re holding, though.”

Theo’s fingers tightened on the folder. He slammed it shut, the quick motion creating a brief gust of wind that ruffled his hair. He leveled Parrish a hard look. “If you’re that desperate for more deputies, you should’ve gone with that right from the start, I am not doing a job I did not sign up for.”

Parrish’s expression remained neutral as he leaned back in his chair. “You signed up as a consultant. And look around you,” he said, gesturing to the whole precinct. “You’re smart. You should've known by now that we are desperate. There are more deaths than new recruits each year.”

How was that Theo’s damn problem?

“I signed up to find that bitch, Tamora,” Theo corrected, it just so happened that being a consultant would help him with that. “That’s what the pack initially discussed with me. Last I checked, I was the manipulative liar, not your self-righteous group.”

“Look, I’m just following orders,” Parrish answered with a gesture of surrender. “Any cases that strongly suggest the supernatural should be handed over to me, and by extent, to you.” He said, tapping on the table, indicating their temporary partnership.

Theo stared at the deputy, brows furrowed subtly before reopening the folder he was holding and skimming through the information written inside.

It wasn’t outrightly stated, but with the information laid in front of him, with all of his stock knowledge about the supernatural, what was reported as a haunted area was probably just a misplaced Mimic. Annoying little creatures that repeat what it hears, shape-shifting predators that disguise themselves into inanimate objects to lure victims. Its design was horribly flawed, being that a normal human would presume it as a haunted object, doing the exact opposite of luring victims.

As a hellhound, Parrish's mission was to protect the supernatural world, so handling cases with supernatural issues made perfect sense. Theo, on the other hand, couldn't care less if an omega was on a rampage. As long as Liam wasn’t sticking his head into dangerous places, Theo wouldn't touch the subject with a ten-foot pole.

“I am not your partner,” Theo deadpanned.

“On paper, you are,” Parrish corrected, before jutting a thumb towards Noah's office without looking, “And according to the Sheriff, it might just be official.”

A deep, frustrated groan escaped Theo. He leaned his elbows on the cold surface of the table, burying his face in his hands and gripping a handful of his hair. He felt completely scammed. Parrish didn't seem at all bothered, and why would he? Theo was a show, and Parrish had a front-row seat.

“Though I suggest you just make up a cover up story at this point,” Parrish informed him, something in the tone of his voice suggested that this was an inevitable outcome.

Theo looked up, his face already asking a question without actually saying it.

“Most of the reports happen within the school’s vicinity.” The deputy explained and Theo didn't need any more further information, hearing the word school was enough for him to get the whole picture.

---

Theo slammed the door to Liam’s room open, the owner of the said room—who was busy scrolling through his laptop with rapt attention—jolted from his seat with a cursed yell, his knee hitting the underside of his desk with a loud thud while a hand clutched on his chest, gripping his shirt.

“Jesus fuck!” Liam exclaimed, stumbling back. “What the hell is your problem?!”

Theo ignored the demand and zeroed in on Liam’s laptop screen. A simple glance told Theo that he was searching for facts about creatures called Mimics. Theo couldn't find it impressive, especially since Liam’s scrolling through, out of all the viable resources found online, a D&D website

“Oh Theo, hi! Thank you for knocking on my door, come in. It’s great that you’re not barging in my room like a fucking SWAT team. Jesus, Raeken, seriously?!” Liam continued to complain.

“Are you stupid?” was somehow the only question Theo managed to voice out, out of all the questions that spiraled in his head.

Liam blinked at him, completely baffled. “You just broke into my room, and that's the first thing you say?"

“Scott’s gone for college and you're taking this ‘interim-alpha’ role a little too seriously.” Theo said, his voice flat. “Shouldn’t you be thinking about school?”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Liam hissed, his hands flailing. He grabbed Theo's arm and dragged him into the room. “My mom's downstairs, you asshat!” He slammed the door and locked it with a sharp click. “And what is it to you? Shouldn't you be too busy tracking down a psycho to stick your nose in my business?”

“Apparently, anything supernatural is now my business,” Theo bit back. “So back off.”

“Why should I back off? You back off.”

Theo was almost baffled by the sheer immaturity of Liam’s retaliation. Theo might just start questioning his priorities. “I’m the one going over this case, legally,” he said, his voice dangerously leveled. “If there’s anyone that should back off, that’s you.”

“Well my pack’s the one experiencing the anomaly first hand.”

Theo made a face. “What pack? The majority of you have gone off to college, and the ones left behind are you puppies that could be counted with one hand.”

“Okay, fuck you, you’re only two years older than me,” the beta informed, clearly offended by the remaining group’s nickname.

“That’s still two years more experience than you.”

“That’s barely a difference!”

“Seven hundred and thirty days,” Theo corrected. “That's how much."

“You are not exactly seven hundred and thirty days older than me.”

“It’s the principle of it.”

“What principle?”

“The legality of things!”

“If we follow things legally, like what you’re doing, it’ll take more than a month before things get cleared.”

“You honestly did not just say that,” Theo said, voice flat with mild bafflement.

“Oh my god,” Liam groaned, his hand dragging across his face in sheer irritation. “Scott’s in college now. All of his responsibilities are handed down to me. What we do to keep the town safe is none of your business. Either you help me with it or back off!”

How does Theo say to a person that the reason he’s busting his ass off was so that Liam didn’t have to make the idiot decision of putting himself in the middle of danger head fucking first. While also keeping the fact that this was for him—the reason he stayed, the reason why he agreed, the reason why he even bothered to keep waking up to see the next day.

You’re kidding, right? I went through all this to keep you from being taken!

It’s like someone rewired his brain chemistry that night with the Ghost Riders. What was once just a night of refraining Liam from getting taken had turned into a lifetime mission by the end of the war.

It was, to put it bluntly, pathetic of him to even be this invested in Liam's situation when there’s no valid reason why he should still be. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

“God, you’re so stupid,” Theo voiced out instead.

“Okay, now you’re just being a real jackass.” Liam bit out.

“You are aware that the one covering up your mess is the Sheriff right?” Theo asked, remembering Parrish’s advice of coming up with a cover story. Indicating Theo the undeniable outcome when it comes to dealing with the supernatural especially with the McCall pack within the vicinity. A clear recognition that Beacon Hills is still Scott’s territory.

“Didn’t he just cover your ass when you ditched the office for the whole twelve hours.” Liam reminded him. “You’re not exactly sitting on any high horse right now, Theo.”

“You’re the one who can’t sit on a horse,” Theo mocked.

Liam guffawed, a disbelieving laugh. “And you’re calling me a child?”

“I was implying to your height,”

“Oh fuck off, Theo.”

Theo took in a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. The endless loop of juvenile bickering was starting to wear him down. Though I suggest you just make up a cover up story at this point. Parrish’s words rang inside his head again. Staring back at Liam’s laptop screen, Theo had a minute to decide before the beta could start pushing him out of the room, probably less than, judging from the glowering expression on Liam’s face.

Theo bit the bullet.

“First off,” Theo began, his voice flat in defeat. “If you’re researching a known mythological creature, steer clear of table-top games.”

Liam blinked back, confused. “What?”

“Mimics don’t have a solid form. They take the shape of any inanimate object and recreate the voices of a human being, typically depending on the person they encounter. If you keep on looking for a treasure chest then you’ll probably end up with nothing,” Theo explained. “Since its sighting is within the vicinity of your school, a notebook that has the voice of your dead professor is more likely its form.”

Liam stared at him, blinked, and narrowed his eyes skeptically. “Did you just…” he started. “Did you just help me right now?”

“I’m a consultant.” Theo deadpanned, as if that curt answer was enough explanation.

“For the Sheriff.” Liam added.

“On paper,” the chimera corrected. “Officially, I made a deal with Scott to help your pack.”

The beta stared at him with this startled look, completely taken aback by the sudden change of direction to their conversation. He opened his mouth and closed it before his eyes flicked down to Theo’s chest before coming back up. “How would I know you’re not lying?”

Theo blankly stared at him. “Do you have bricks for brains?” He asked, completely done. “When I said only ‘on important circumstances’, stating facts about Mimics barely even hits the relevance part.”

“I-it’s a valid question,” the beta tried to defend.

“And you’re milking it too much, now shut up and take notes before I change my mind.”

Theo entered Liam’s room with a goal to not-so-gently persuade the guy to mind his own business, which was school, but had somehow ended in the exact opposite direction. What started as a heated argument had dissolved into a strange, placid atmosphere. Theo’s mouth kept on moving, his knowledge of the supernatural spilling out while the only sound in the room was Liam's fingers making soft clicking sounds as he typed.

“You know a lot about this stuff, you know, the supernatural,” Liam stated after he saved the file. It wasn’t a question, but the tone left Theo to believe that it’s leading up to a request.

The chimera only stared at the beta with a blank look. “I’ve lived with the Doctors since I was nine, Liam.”

Liam’s mouth twitched, almost like in distaste but the beta was quick to school his expression. “Yeah, but, you’re like, a living encyclopedia.”

“I know a lot but I don’t know everything,” the chimera corrected. “It depends on the Doctors’ interest, which—”

“Dread doctors.” Liam interrupted with an irritated huff.

Theo blinked, taken aback from the cut off, completely breaking his line of thought. “What?” He asked, frowning.

“They’re not doctors, they’re the Dread Doctors,” the younger boy explained with a peeved expression. “My dad is a doctor, Deaton is a doctor. Those psychos aren’t doctors just because they picked up a scalpel.”

Theo stared, wondering where the sudden animosity was coming from before being reminded that Liam and three of his friends, one he even dated, had an unpleasant run in with Theo’s pseudo guardians. Liam’s anger wasn’t wrongfully placed.

“Right,” Theo voiced, sounding quite unsure what else to say. He briefly took a glance at Liam’s closed laptop and realized there’s no reason he should stay in his room. Standing up after being sat on the bed, on Liam’s bed, Theo patted his jeans and promptly started heading towards the door. “Since we’re done here, I’m going to—”

“Hey, why don’t you help us out like this?” Liam asked, still sitting on his computer chair, swiveling towards the older boy by the door.

“Like what?” Theo asked, despite knowing what it meant.

Liam gestured over his laptop, as if that explained it. “I’m not saying you join our stake outs or something,” he continued when Theo made a face. “It’s just that… Deaton’s so cryptic, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude,” Theo deadpanned. “And no, whatever you puppies do, leave me out of it. Scott and I had a deal. This—” Theo gestured a hand between them. “Isn’t part of it.”

“But that’s not what you said earlier,” Liam reasoned, voice suddenly sounding desperate and dangerously close to being whiny.

“I lied,” Theo replied before leaving the room.

---

Theo had basically commandeered Parrish's entire table. Papers and files littered across the wooden surface, with blurred pictures of evidence pinned against a map. The map itself was a mess of scribbled lines and notes, red circles highlighting the areas Theo had under suspicion. Clues suggested Monroe had likely fled north with the sudden influx of missing people, people that were reported as werewolves according to their pack. But Theo's gut told him something was off. The same behavior, though less drastic, had been sighted in the south and west.

He tapped his red pen against the map, considering his options. Either Monroe’s playing it safe down south and was letting her believers do most of the heavy lifting up north, or vice versa. Monroe’s an amateur with a passion, she’s either hard or very easy to read when most of her motive was driven by discrimination. Theo had to take into account that she briefly studied under Gerard Argent, it might not be that long, but who knows how much she’d managed to learn.

Theo needs more evidence.

“Get up,” the Sheriff suddenly ordered, cutting through his concentration, standing in front of the chimera with Parrish just right behind him.

Theo didn’t bother looking up. “In a minute,” he said, definitely not planning on following it through.

The Sheriff let out a tired sigh. “I said get up, we need to head to the school.”

Still Theo did no such thing and only circled another area near the mountain side down south, writing a note beside it. “Why, I dropped out to spend time in hell, remember?” He wrote ‘wolfsbane influx’. “And it wasn’t even voluntary.”

“Stop being a smart-ass and pack your shit, Raeken,” the Sheriff ordered, much firmer this time. “Liam and his little band of misfits found the Mimic, and there’s collateral damage.”

Theo stilled and took a deep, calming breath before defeatedly dropping his red pen down to look up, feeling a migraine suddenly forming behind his eyes. “Of course there is.”

Theo put his foot down, driving his truck to the school instead of climbing into one of the Sheriff's cruisers. It was a personal vendetta dating back to when he was still sleeping in his truck, a grudge he could carry to the afterlife if he had to

He got there first and with the Sheriff just a second behind. Theo got out of his car, pissed, slamming his door closed and didn’t bother waiting for the other two to catch up behind him. The school was a ghost town, with most of the students having gone home except for Scott's stupid little puppy pack ruining the goddamn locker’s room.

Finstock would not be amused.

Theo had done a great deal of informing Liam how to neutralize a Mimic. Although, if being honest, neutralizing a Mimic needs a better control on their mental and emotional capacity since those buggers harness most of their energy through that. With Liam’s explosive anger, the chances of a pacifist approach were clearly close to none.

Theo saw that coming from a mile away.

“School’s almost out for the summer and they’ll be seniors by the next school year,” the Sheriff intoned just a few feet behind him. “You’d think they’ll start thinking about their grades more.”

Theo scoffed. “Your child is Stiles,” he reminded the old man. “One of the sole founders of their group. I don’t think that needs an explanation."

The Sheriff shrugged. “At least he got into college,” he said, the sound of relief evident in his voice. “Why can’t they just let the authorities handle things more, now that the supernatural isn’t technically hidden.”

“Liam said the authorities would take a month before things could even get started,” Theo spilled, throwing the beta under the bus without a second’s thought. It’s not like he was told to keep it a secret.

The Sheriff leveled him a look. “Are you saying we’re incompetent?” He asked challengingly.

Theo shrugged. “C’mon, Noah, let’s be real here, you can’t do jack shit without paperwork first.”

The Sheriff was silent for a second. The click of their heels was the only sound in the empty hallway, broken only by Parrish’s poorly covered cough, a laugh he couldn't quite contain. “It's still the Sheriff for you,” he said instead.

They reached the area and Theo wasn't surprised by the scene. He'd actually expected worse. Small victories were still victories. Lockers were strewn across the room, cracked drywalls, and a burnt corpse of a Mimic was lying in the middle of the hole in the floor, its thin arm stretched out as if trying to crawl out from their impending death.

“On a scale of one to ten, how screwed are we?” Liam asked the second they entered the room, the three remaining McCall pack members, plus Nolan, huddled around the corpse, looking like they'd seen better days.

The Sheriff only let out a long, weary sigh, unable to find the words.

“Is that a hole on the floor?” Parrish asked, his voice low in disbelief.

“It tried to dig their way to escape,” Mason explained, flailing a hand towards the large hole, broken debris littered around the room. He looked at the corpse with a hint of disgust. “Thing was nasty.” He added, with Correy nodding along, agreeing.

Parrish scratched the back of his head. “We could rule this out as a sinkhole problem,” he suggested to the Sheriff.

“And how exactly do you want to explain the walls?” The older man countered.

“Cheap manufacturing,” the Hellhound shrugged. The Sheriff only leveled him a look. “I’m a deputy, sir, not a creative writer. There’s only a finite amount of ideas I could come up with before it gets stupid.”

“You’ve written stupider reports for the past years.”

“We were dealing with your son, Sir.”

There’s really no better argument against that.

“Okay, but what if it was an earthquake?” Liam stupidly suggested.

“The locker room being the only collateral damage?” Mason argued, immediately shutting the suggestion down.

“I’m not seeing you thinking of a better one,” Liam grumbled.

Theo slowly tuned them out, the conversation becoming a muffled, distant echo, as if he was suddenly stuck in a tunnel and he’s at the other end. Eyes trained at the corpse on the floor, staring at its thin arm, stretched out as if to give an illusion of crawling out of the floor and reaching out towards him.

Theo kept on staring.

The Skinwalkers have a message for you, Theo.

A flicker and Theo’s seeing Tara, crawling out from underground, reaching a sickly hand towards him, to drag him down, permanently this time. Because she wasn’t done, it was never done, Theo should’ve still been down there with her, forever.

Your sister wants to see you.

A flicker and he’s down at the sewers, the cold seeping into his bones. Kira’s sword, unbroken and thrust to the ground. Tara was there, crawling out, staring at Theo with her pale face and undead eyes. He couldn’t move, couldn't talk, couldn't run, couldn't look away. He kept on staring, memories and hallucinations mixing together until he couldn’t place which one was which.

Scott help me, Scott please!

Theo tried to breathe, but his face was frozen still and he could only manage short gasps of air through his nostrils, jaw locked tight as words failed him. Tara’s right there, she’s so close, so near, and Theo couldn’t find it in him to run because it’s okay, you don’t have to stop as she thrusted her hand through his chest and reclaimed what was originally hers:

The heart that was beating frantically in his chest, dying to come out.

A sudden, sharp pain exploded in his face. His nose cracked.

“Fuck!” Theo exclaimed as he fell flat against the wall behind him, a hand clutching his bleeding nose as the pain overrode his senses completely. “Jesus Christ!" He cursed again before glaring up at a wide eyed Liam, his right hand posed into a fist, ready to make another blow. “You have a problem with my nose or something, Dunbar?”

“Are you back with us now?” The beta asked instead, breathing hard and looking widely at him.

Theo blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus. He looked around, seeing every eye in the room on him. He swallowed, a wave of shame washing over him as he realized his heartbeat had been loud and unshielded. With a deep breath, he stood up, refraining from keeping his knees from giving out.

The mask went back up.

“We were calling your name and you weren’t responding,” The Sheriff said, taking one tentative step towards him after another. And Theo hates it, hates how fragile he is suddenly being treated, it’s stupid, pathetic and embarrassing. He shouldn’t have to be treated like this. “You okay, kid?”

“Just remembered something unpleasant,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand, feigning nonchalance. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure—”

“I said I’m fine,” Theo bit back.

The Sheriff only stared at him, thinking. He rubbed a hand under his chin, turning to stare at the four students in the room with them then back at Theo. “Why don’t you go home and take those four with you,” It wasn’t a question.

“I’m still on the clock,” the chimera argued.

“Then take a half day.”

Theo let out an annoyed huff. “Sheriff, I’m fine,” he gritted. “It was a minor slip up, it wouldn’t happen again.”

One of Noah’s eyebrows rose. “You telling me it happened before?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“Go home, Theo.” The Sheriff said, voice authoritative as he placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “I’m not asking.”

Theo stared at the Sheriff, willing himself not to back down. But the look on Noah’s face had him sighing defeatedly before turning to stare at the remaining members of the McCall pack. “You heard the boss, c’mon.” He said, before swiveling around and walking out the room, daring not to turn around as hesitant footsteps followed him out.

Liam took the passenger’s seat because of course he did, it wouldn’t make any sense if either of the three were to sit beside him. They do also live in the same house, it made absolute sense that Liam takes up that spot. Theo ignored him and climbed into the driver's side, the door slamming shut with a satisfying thud. The others piled into the back, and a suffocating silence settled over the car. It was the quiet that unnerved him more than any noise could have.

He had plugged his key into the ignition when he noticed that no one was talking. They were just sitting there, four stupid, unmoving ducklings waiting for something to happen. He waited a full second before looking at Nolan, who was sitting directly behind Liam. “Well?" he asked, his voice sharp with impatience.

Nolan gave him a startled but confused look, along with everyone in the car. “Sorry?”

Liam’s eyes were moving back and forth between them, a kind of frantic but clueless look painted across his face. He looked pathetic. It's almost funny.

Theo refrained from rolling his eyes. “I don’t know where you live,” he stated plainly.

“Oh,” the human exclaimed. “Right, right, uhh…” he stuttered before muttering out his address.

Theo silently plotted the directions. He turned on the ignition, adjusted the gearstick, and slowly pulled out of the parking lot. The tension was so thick he could practically drown in it. Liam was glancing at him every second, his eyes darting back and forth, making Theo’s skin crawl.

“You’re staring,” Theo stated, his voice low.

“Sorry, sorry…” Liam spluttered, his gaze snapping to the road ahead. His mouth was pressed into a hard line as if keeping his eyes on the asphalt was an impossible task.

He didn't even last a minute. As soon as Theo took a turn, Liam’s eyes were immediately trailing back at him.

“I’m gonna fucking gauge your eyes out, Dunbar,” Theo threatened, his patience snapping.

“I’m stopping, I’m stopping!” Liam spluttered, throwing his hands in mock surrender.

Theo didn't believe him. He kept his eyes on the road, but he could feel Liam fidgeting, felt the restless energy radiating off him. He could hear the soft, almost imperceptible click of Liam's jaw as he opened and closed his mouth, preparing to speak again.

“Are you—”

The road was empty, Theo pressed on the brakes without a second’s thought. “Get out.”

Liam blinked at him, the bewildered expression on his face almost comical. “Are you making me walk home?” He asked dumbly, the stare that Theo gave him was telling. “This a thirty minute drive away from my house,” he exclaimed.

“You’re a werewolf, and an athlete, I doubt you’ll break a sweat,” Theo pointed out. “Get out, Liam.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Liam exclaimed. “I'm just— I was just trying to... I was trying to— I'm— I’m concerned, alright?” He stammered, words spilling out from his mouth.

Theo stilled, processed the words and turned his head extremely slow to stare at Liam, an immensely unimpressed look painted across his face. “Concerned?” He asked, not buying the complete and total bullshit the beta just said.

Liam hissed. “It sounded way better in my head.”

Theo rubbed at his face, the gesture one of pure, irritable exhaustion. “Did it ever occured to you that I don’t fucking wanna talk about it?” He said, voice low and threatening.

“Well… now… it does. “ Liam muttered weakly, deflating in his seat. Theo kept on staring at him. “I’m shutting up, I’m shutting up.”

“Finally, something smart came out of your mouth,” Theo said, before turning on the ignition, the engine purring back to life. “Not a single word, Dunbar.”

Liam nodded and stared at the road ahead. The chimera continued on driving.

“Can you pass me the aux?” Mason awkwardly requested.

---

The sun was a wash of orange across the horizon as they reached the Geyer-Dunbar driveway. It was after six, and while it was only the beginning of April, summer felt like it was already making its entrance.

“Theo, wait!” Liam called out as the chimera promptly stepped out of the car, clearly wanting to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Back off, Liam.” Theo muttered, not even bothering to look over his shoulder. He knew the beta's advanced hearing had caught every word.

“Just—“ Liam reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him back to face him.

“I will fucking punch you in the face,” the chimera glared, hands already balled up into a fist.

Liam’s expression soured. “You can’t do that, punching you in the face is my thing,” he argued.

“Breaking my nose is your thing,” Theo corrected. “And I might just do that if you don’t back the fuck off.”

“No—wait!” Liam exclaimed, his grip on Theo’s arm tightening as the older boy tried to turn away again.

“You’re really testing my patience here,” Theo growled.

“I wanna try, okay?” Liam blurted out desperately. The wild look in his eyes wasn't giving Theo the right clues, but surely that wasn't what he meant. “I want to try and make this thing between us to work!”

Theo stared, the wild look on Liam’s face wasn’t helping alleviate the situation, because surely that’s not what the younger boy was hinting about. “You are hearing yourself, right?” He asked, just to be sure that Theo’s previous panic attack wasn’t making him hear things.

Liam's brow furrowed in confusion, and then a slow, burning realization dawned on his face. His cheeks immediately flamed bright red. “What, no! That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed, flustered and embarrassed.

Theo rubbed a tired hand on his face. “Try again, but take a deep breath first,” he said, words heavy with exasperation. “You’re as red as your lacrosse jersey.”

Liam groaned. “Fuck you, Theo, I am trying so hard here.”

Theo made a face. “Trying to what?” He asked, completely confused by this point, having no idea where this conversation was heading.

The beta, taking his advice, took a deep breath first and composed himself, as if trying again with a clean start. “Are you okay?” He said and Theo’s irritation came back with full force. “Wait, I want to listen to—” Liam added, hands stretching out towards Theo’s wrist, aiming to grab hold of his pulse.

Theo sharply backed away, pulling his arm out of Liam's grasp. “I'm fine," he bit out, a sharp, cold snap.

“How would I know you’re not lying?”

“Then you’ll just have to take my word for it,” he snarled, a desperate attempt to end the conversation.

Liam didn't seem to get the hint. “Look I just—”

“Why the hell does it fucking matter to you, Dunbar?” Theo snapped, words sharp enough to sting, Liam jolted back from the sudden outburst. “I already let you listen to it once and you’re already being an invasive motherfucker. Let it go and back off.”

He left Liam standing alone at the front porch.

---

Theo could feel Liam's presence just outside his door. The soft footfalls, a hesitant pace back and forth, would retreat for a few seconds only to return again. Theo blatantly ignored him. Dinner had already been a tense ordeal, and he wasn't planning on extending it. Liam knew that Theo knew he was outside, it wouldn’t take long before embarrassment got the better of him and would likely not come back the fifth time.

How wrong Theo was.

He lost count of how many times Liam paced outside his room. At one point, he heard a small hesitation, a pause that was so close to a knock he held his breath, before the beta stomped loudly back down the hall. Five seconds later, he was back again, a persistent shadow at Theo's door.

Theo stood on his ground and ignored the beta, and it was hard ignoring him. The idea of opening the door and letting the beta in was so appealing that Theo had to remind himself why he was ignoring the guy in the first place. It was embarrassing that he had reminded himself more than once. At a quarter past ten, the pacing stopped. At a quarter to eleven, Theo realized the silence meant the beta had finally gone to bed. Theo decided he should probably do the same.

Sleeping had been one of Theo’s hardships since coming back. No matter how heavy the fatigue was, he couldn't sleep for long. He was either woken by the Sheriff’s deputies or from a fresh batch of nightmares.

It never became easy.

But lately, listening to Liam’s heartbeat had somehow become Theo’s lullaby. Hearing the simple thump-thump, thump-thump of the beta’s heart had given Theo this false sense of serenity —a quiet assurance, enough for him to sleep peacefully without cutting up his skin just to ground himself.

It was half past one when Theo woke up with a jolt, feeling a little disoriented and a little confused as to why he was suddenly woken up this early in the morning. There was no alarm, no fire, no earthquake, no nothing. The house was quiet and dark, that was until Theo heard it—that quick and frantic beating of Liam’s heart. He knew what caused that; Theo had woken up to his own quick pulse for months back then.

He didn’t hesitate, Theo was out of his room the second he realized and was already opening the door to Liam’s. The beta’s heartbeat was loud and frantic up close, his breathing coming in hard and heavy, eyebrows furrowed and mouth curved downwards, sweat glistening on his tanned skin. Pride be damned, Theo was already shaking Liam awake.

The reaction was instantaneous; Liam jolted awake with a harsh gasp, eyes flaring yellow as he looked up at Theo, slightly disoriented.

“Oh, hey,” Liam said, acknowledging the older boy as he slowly took in his surroundings, sounding and looking tired as he tried to even out his breathing. “What uh— What are you doing here?”

“You were having a nightmare,” Theo answered, voice flat, trying too hard not to sound concerned that it became unempathic. “Your heartbeat woke me up.”

"Oh…" Liam's voice was low, almost embarrassed, as he slowly sat up. “Sorry."

Theo stared, studying him. “This isn’t new, is it?"

Liam’s head tipped down as he rubbed his neck. “No, no it isn’t,” he answered. “I’ve had it for a while, but uh… I haven’t had any, as of late, until… well, until now.”

Theo wanted to say he didn’t ask but he couldn’t find it in him to do it. Looking back and remembering the war, Brett and Lori’s death, the Ghost Riders, the Doctors, heck even his own manipulation and betrayal, Theo shouldn’t even be surprised that Liam’s been plagued with nightmares, and he didn't know what to say to that.

The silence seemed to make Liam feel more uneasy.

“I’m just gonna—,” Theo started, jutting a thumb out the door, a poor attempt at trying to appease the younger boy without outright making it look like it.

“Hey, look,” Liam interrupted. “I’m sorry if I was being invasive, you know, earlier?”

Theo stared, eyes almost bugging out of their sockets. He refrained from rubbing the inside of his ears because hearing an apology from Liam wasn’t something Theo was expecting at any time in the near future or ever. “What?” He asked, dumbfounded.

Liam, however, seemed to take the message differently. “Stop being such an asshole, dude—” he whined.

“Don’t call me, dude.”

“—Don’t make me repeat myself. You already saw me having a nightmare, we should be even by now.” The beta continued, ignoring the correction.

Theo made a face. “Are we?” He questioned. “I don’t see the rest of the puppies watching you sweat your ass.”

“Yeah, but they didn’t see you whining in your sleep,” Liam shot back before exhaling tiredly, as if the idea of arguing with Theo right now was physically draining him. “Look, we live in the same house, I really don’t want you hating me right now.”

Theo froze. The need to correct him was a sudden, urgent priority. “I don’t hate you.”

The beta scoffed. “Right.” He said, unbelieving.

“You’re annoying and your anger is a pain in the ass to tolerate,” Theo said, the words coming out in a rush. “But I don’t hate you."

Liam looked up at him, eyes searching for something, as if trying to find the lie. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Then you’ll just have to take my word for it.

Oddly, Theo felt too overwhelmed, the need to stay in Liam’s room was just as bad as the need to leave. He took a tentative step back. “Right, I’m gonna head back.”

Liam sobered and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, uhh thanks for waking me up.”

“Sure.” If Theo left a little too quickly, Liam didn’t point it out.

He laid back on his bed and listened to Liam’s heartbeat, hearing it even out as the beta slowly returned back to his slumber. Theo promptly closed his eyes and did the same, before jolting back up harshly, heart beating frantically inside his chest. He whipped around to stare at the alarm clock that said it’s ten minutes before two a.m. It hadn’t even been half an hour and Liam’s nightmare came back with such force that Theo’s—Tara’s— heart was beating just as loud.

“Jesus Christ, Liam,” Theo cursed as he got out of bed. “And here I thought I wasn’t dealing with my trauma well.”

Theo was marching towards Liam’s room and was about to push the door open when Liam’s heartbeat slowly evened out. The chimera stilled, a hand on the door handle. He stared at the wooden surface a second too long, as if to double check that Liam’s heart rate wasn’t skyrocketing. One minute, two, and Theo was taking a step back, turning around as he headed back to his room.

Liam’s heartbeat quickened.

“Are you kidding me?” Theo hissed, whipping around and marching back only for the beta’s heart to even out, again. Theo stood there, confused and pissed because—“What the hell is going on?”

Theo rubbed at his face from sheer frustration before noticing his own heartbeat and realizing he wasn’t masking it. Staring down at his chest, Theo felt something click and a hypothesis suddenly needed to be proven. Taking one tentative step back after another, the farther Theo got, the quicker Liam’s heart rate increased.

“What the hell?”

A minute later, Theo had a pillow and a blanket with him as he tried to settle comfortably against Liam’s door, having made the decision to just sleep there with his phone right beside him, an alarm set up at five fifty-five in the morning, just a few minutes before Mrs. Geyer woke up.

Chapter Text

Theo was staring at his coffee, trying to blink out the drowsiness. He’ll still need to drive to the Sheriff’s office. His back’s stiff and his hip hurts, not to mention there’s a crick on his neck that wouldn’t seem to go away. The only upside of his situation was his enhanced healing and even that was slower than a natural wolf’s. Mrs. Geyer slid a plate of grilled cheese in front of him, a small, silent peace offering that settled between them on the counter.

Theo looked up at her.

“You look like you need to eat.” She simply stated.

“Thanks, Mrs. Geyer.” Theo said, the words coming out as a tired acceptance. He was too exhausted to argue. She’ll just berate him to eat it on the way anyway.

Her nose crinkled in distaste but said nothing, only giving out a small tut as she drank her coffee. Theo had been staying at the Geyer-Dunbar household for almost a month and a half by now, and Mrs. Geyer had stopped asking Theo to call her by her name around the third week but she still blatantly shows her distaste of hearing ‘Mrs. Geyer’ from his mouth.

It’s a form of guilt tripping.

Theo had done worse in life when he was younger, her little stunt barely made his eye twitch.

Loud footsteps bounded down the stairs and Theo took a sip from his coffee.

“Morning,” Liam sang, heading straight towards the cereal boxes lined up at the shelf behind Theo. His mood was too happy, it was irritating.

“You’ve been in a lot better mood these days,” Mrs. Geyer said. “Any good news you want to tell me?”

Liam stilled and gave himself a minute to think. “Not really,” he said. “I’ve just… I've been sleeping better lately.” He said, before frowning. “Way better,” he added as if the very thought of having a great sleep was a mystery, and not even a good one.

Theo snorted. “Bet you are,” he muttered, taking another sip from his coffee. He’d been sleeping in front of Liam’s door for a couple of days now, probably even weeks. The beta’s sleep schedule was a nightmare to deal with, it was too random especially on the weekends, playing a video game up until early in the morning. Theo would likely find himself barely catching enough sleep, it was like he’s back in his truck all over again.

Liam gave him a look. “You obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

Theo let out a short bitter laugh, ‘I woke up on the wrong side of the floor’ was what he didn’t say. “You’re too cheery, it’s ruining my coffee,” he said instead before taking a huge bite from his sandwich. It’s still warm.

“Your coffee is just as bitter and dark as you are,” Liam mocked.

Theo’s coffee might be black, but it’s far from bitter. He realized just a few weeks after coming back from hell, too much sugar would never be too much for his coffee. “If you stopped drinking those stupid frappes, then you can judge me,” he said, finishing off his sandwich and coffee.

“Who says I can’t judge you right now?”

“I’m heading out,” Theo announced instead, heading straight out towards the front door.

“Theo, wait!” Liam exclaimed, bounding right after him.

“You kids have a nice day.” Mrs. Geyer called from the back.

Theo was already outside and was detouring towards his truck when Liam came up behind him and opted for the older boy to turn around and face him. One side of his hoodie was off his shoulder, trapped under the sling of his backpack. “Hey, so, school’s almost over in a week.” He informed the chimera.

“And?” Theo asked impatiently.

“Aaaand coach Finstock had this crazy lacrosse training for us for the summer since Nolan dropped off from being co-captain and Mason’s been my ride ever since he got his car, like, five months ago so—”

Theo raised a hand to interrupt him. “You’re yapping, and I’m going to be late. Why do I need to hear this?” He demanded.

Liam took a deep breath and bit the bullet. “Can you be my ride just for summer?”

Theo didn’t even hesitate to answer. “No,” before sharply turning around.

“Aw c’mon!” Liam complained before running up in front of Theo. “We’re both out the house around this early anyway, why not?”

“The school is in a different direction completely, Liam, I am not driving that long.” He informed the beta.

“It’s just a few minutes, I’ll pay for gas,” Liam suggested, almost sounding desperate.

“You have your own car,” Theo reminded him, jutting a thumb towards the SUV that never seems to be used.

“It’s a family car and I don’t have a license," Liam corrected as if pointing out the obvious.

“Then get a license."

“I don’t have the time!”

“Not my problem,” Theo said, lightly shoving Liam away from blocking his car door, getting inside as Liam flailed for a better excuse.

“It’s just for the summer, Theo,” he whined, his voice a last-ditch effort. “When have I asked you for anything?”

Theo froze. He had already slotted his key into the ignition, but he slowly turned his head toward the beta. A very obvious and telling look was plastered across his face.

“Yeah I know, I heard what I said,” Liam said dismissively, breaking the tension. “I’m just grasping at straws here.”

“My answer’s still no,” Theo said indifferently, before looking around, noticing a change from the other days when Theo and Liam leave the house in the morning. “Mason not picking you up?” He asked with a frown. Theo had made it a habit for him to watch Liam leave the house first before he did, and there was never a time Mason wasn’t picking him up.

“I told him not to,” Liam answered sheepishly. “I was thinking you’d drive me there for today, didn’t think you’d actually say no.”

Theo stared at him, unimpressed. “That’s stupid, even for you, Dunbar.”

“Well I’m realizing that now.”

“What made you think I’d agree?” Theo asked, emphasizing on the subtext that if it’s Liam asking him, then it’s an automatic default that the chimera would say no.

Liam shrugged. “I don’t know,” he answered. “I just felt good recently, I forgot you’re an ass twenty-four seven.”

Theo stared. His sacrifice for giving Liam a good night’s rest was actually at fault here. Of course this was Theo’s doing, a stupid domino effect that made another responsibility—not even a required one—for the chimera to deal with. “Of course it is,” he muttered bitterly before rubbing his face with obvious irritation.

Jesus fuck he couldn’t catch a break.

“Get in.” Theo said.

Liam’s head snapped up in surprise. “Wait, really?”

“Get in before I change my mind,” Theo snapped. The beta didn’t need to be told twice. He was already inside the passenger's seat with a blinding smile on his face. Theo tried to refrain himself from squinting.

“Just so we’re clear,” Theo said, pulling out of the driveway. “I’m only giving you a ride during the summer. I better see Mason picking you up tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Liam said, a little too happy that it’s souring Theo’s already bad mood. When Liam started playing his playlist, the chimera wasn't able to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

---

Summer rolled in without much of a problem. They'd dealt with one rogue omega, and the neighboring packs had not received any news that hinted at Monroe's doing. It was a slow, quiet period, and that's what put Theo in a slump. Patrolling had been a different ordeal lately, since he couldn't leave his station without Parrish tagging along. The Hellhound was usually busy with cases that weren't supernatural.

“I’ll keep my phone’s GPS on,” Theo had tried to compromise.

“No,” the Sheriff simply replied.

“It’s been months, Sheriff. Let. Me. Go.”

“I know right,” the Sheriff said, agreeing. “And yet you’re still at it.”

Compromising with the Sheriff had never been a fruitful outcome. That never stopped Theo from giving it a try every other day. And speaking of not giving up, Liam now had a new morning request that Theo’s still in the middle of rejecting over and over again. Apparently, Nolan stepping down as co-captain hadn’t meant quitting the team altogether, and Liam’s stupid enough to suggest that Theo can drive both of them.

“I’ll pay for gas.”

“You said that the first time and you haven’t paid me anything.”

Theo wanted to ditch Liam at one point, yet he found himself still waiting on him each and every day. It’s pathetically sad, even for his standards.

He ran a hand through his hair, popping open a red pen to highlight areas on his map with a sudden decrease of wolfsbane—an obvious indication that someone was harvesting it. It didn’t necessarily mean it was Monroe, but at this point, anything suspicious was better pinned on her.

“Didn’t Agent McCall give a call yesterday about a situation in the L.A. district?” Theo asked as soon as Parrish took his seat beside him, a seat that was cramped at the very corner of the table.

“Just a warehouse getting ransacked,” Parrish answered, his voice a low hum.

“Wolfsbane?” Theo asked. Scott’s dad wouldn’t call if it wasn’t anything supernatural related.

Parrish shook his head. “Drugs.”

“Why’d he call then?” Theo’s red marker finally died on him. He started pulling up drawers in search of a new one.

“They had a druid locked up in there along with other people,” Parrish answered. “They still don’t know if it’s just a coincidence to human trafficking or if it's something supernatural.”

Theo stilled, and looked up from the table. “Why wasn’t I informed about this?”

Parrish frowned at him, skepticism in his eyes. “You think this has something to do with Monroe?"

“Anything suspicious is a cause for concern,” Theo said, deadpan. “She’s like the Jesus Christ for the hunters, her believers are easily multiplying on different countries. Anything could be about Monroe.”

Parrish stared at him, thinking. “Sometimes I don’t know if you're just smart or paranoid.”

“This is my first time dealing with the fear of losing someone,” Theo stated flatly, returning to his work and scribbling notes with a blue marker instead. “I have no plans of knowing how to deal with myself if I ever get to lose that someone. Take my paranoia as a form of advantage, that would be the smart thing to do.”

“You know, it’s hard believing you, sometimes.”

“It’s part of my charm.”

"Parrish, Raeken," the Sheriff called from his office door. His face was a blank slate, giving Theo nothing to read. “In my office, now," he ordered, his voice flat before he sharply went back inside.

Theo turned to stare at Parrish. “If this is you swapping his fries again, I’m tapping out.”

“You’re not the one dealing with Stiles here.” Parrish reminded him, along with all the other missed calls the Stilinski kid did just because his flight got canceled.

Theo had waited for Parrish to leave first before he did. It wasn’t a matter of dreading to see the Sheriff; it’s a matter of Scott McCall being in there and Theo’s not actually keen on seeing that familiar face. The alpha came into Beacon Hills last night, according to Liam and Mason’s phone call that Theo hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on. He was waiting for Liam to fall asleep and he already looked stupid carrying a pillow and blanket while standing in the middle of the hallway, sue him if he at least wanted to know why Liam’s still up and about late into the night.

Scott was already in the Sheriff’s office when Theo clocked in, and he wasn’t alone, there was one unfamiliar heartbeat and scent that Theo had immediately noticed, it was anxious, pulse fast. He didn’t even try to question it, Theo continued his day, ignoring that weird sense of dread at the pit of his stomach.

“There’s a kid,” Theo stated flatly, his eyes scanning the room. A curly-haired teenager stood in the far corner, hands shoved deep in his pockets, hunched in on himself as if trying to shrink into the shadows. Theo's gaze landed on Scott. “Why is there a werewolf kid in here?”

“So, it’s not about the curly fries,” Parrish muttered that even someone with no supernatural abilities can hear it. The Sheriff only narrowed his eyes at the Hellhound.

Scott took a breath, his shoulders squaring as if bracing himself for the conversation. “Theo, Parrish, this is Alec,” he introduced, gesturing towards the kid. “Argent and I found him being chased down by hunters in Los Angeles. He ran away from being captured in a warehouse my dad had previously seized—”

If looks could send messages, Theo’s ‘I told you so’ look towards Parrish could be easily read by everyone in the room.

“He has no pack and is an orphan. Hunters in L.A. already know his face and are looking for him.” McCall continued, pocketing his hands. Based on past references and how much of a righteous person Scott is, Theo could see where this was heading from a mile away. “I have to take him in and bring him here, for protection,” the Alpha took in a breath before dropping the bomb. “He’s only a newly turned werewolf.”

Theo and Parrish made a face. “You might want to start with that small detail first,” Theo deadpanned.

“How new are we talking here?” Parrish asked, his voice low with concern.

Scott actually had the gall to look sheepish. “Two-three days?”

“His control’s shit,” Theo stated. It wasn’t a question nor a speculation. Theo knew what he said was the complete and unfiltered truth.

The kid—Alec—flinched.

“Just your typical control issues,” Scott corrected. “I mean, every werewolf has to start somewhere.”

Theo groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “Why am I here?” He demanded. He could be writing important stuff right now, instead he’s standing in a room with a newly turned werewolf Theo couldn’t give two shits about.

“Someone needs to help him learn control,” Scott simply answered.

Theo stared, processing the words. They sounded stupid no matter how many times he repeated them in his head. “And you’re asking me?” He finally asked in disbelief.

“Only in the mornings, real early.” Scott added. “He’ll be staying with my mom and if things pan out well, he’ll be enrolling with Liam after the summer. I was hoping he’ll be—”

“Hold on, let me stop you there, McCall,” Theo interrupted, his pointer finger up. “What made you think I’m agreeing to this? We had a deal, this isn’t part of it. I’m already dealing with Liam’s pain-in-the-ass IED. Do you know how many times he broke my nose?”

“Since you lived with him? Twice. He calls me during the weekends,” Scott answered with a shrug, seemingly oblivious to the real point. Theo knows they call, because Stiles is part of that call and he’s still great at making himself known for everyone even if he’s not physically present.

“I am not dealing with this kid,” Theo pressed on. “Give him to somebody else, not me.”

“I can’t exactly give him to Liam,” Scott stated, as if to point out the obvious. “He’s not really that great when it comes to dealing with control.”

Theo scoffed, immediately calling bullshit. “Give me a break, McCall, I’ve been living with him for months. He’s good enough to do homework on the floor of my room during a full moon."

Scott’s startled reaction had somehow caught Theo by surprise. The full genuine shock the alpha had on his face was fleeting, but it’s enough for Theo to realize that Liam being in control of his shift, and doing homework, during a full moon was a very likely thing to happen. “Look, there’s…” Scott started but couldn’t seem to find the right words immediately. “There’s a different reason for that.”

“Different?” Theo deadpanned, eyes narrowing

“Listen, if you think you know more about Liam’s control, you don’t.” Scott’s voice was final. Something ugly and painful had somehow stung Theo, a sharp twist in his chest he didn't know how to place. “He’s working on things that are helping him with it.”

Theo stared, but didn’t argue. He knew that Scott, the alpha, knew his pack better than Theo could, especially after he had so selfishly broken it. It’s somehow a blessing in disguise, that Theo’s manipulation and betrayal had made Scott protect his pack even more.

“Then, why me?” Theo asked instead. He knew trust was still a fragile topic especially if it correlates to him. Alec was a newly turned werewolf, a days-old baby in the supernatural world. There should be a valid reason why someone as fragile as that was thrusted to him.

“To be honest, you were the last person I thought of. If anything you’re not even part of the list.” Scott admitted, Theo stared, waiting for the punchline. “Noah suggested you.” The alpha exhaled.

Theo stilled and stared at the Sheriff, who was looking at them with rapt attention. Leaned back on his chair with his arms crossed over his chest, a look of finality across his face, as if daring Theo to try and even suggest otherwise.

Theo didn’t know what to react, unknown emotions circling his chest and it made him want to puke. He found himself bristling instead. “You trust me enough to deal with a new wolf but not to patrol alone?” He asked, voice snappish.

“Take it or leave it, Raeken.” The Sheriff, ending one topic with just a few words. “You kids done whining now? Great.” He asked, not really waiting for anyone’s response, before pulling the drawer and fishing out a folder. “Agent McCall sent me these files in accordance with Alec's situation, Theo, Parrish, take notes.”

Theo somehow felt like he just experienced an emotional whiplash and couldn’t deal with it properly when there’s no time for him to do so.

Theo had spaced out for most of the remainder of the day, up until he was in the school parking lot, waiting on Liam. He couldn't stop remembering the scared and anxious scent Alec had been emitting. It was jarring, realizing how young the kid looked. Theo was only four years older, but Alec seemed decades too young to be thrusted into this world. Not long ago, Scott was the same age when he turned.

The thought was a bitter reminder that for Theo, he had a choice. And it didn’t matter how old he was, he still had that chance to choose.

He blinked back into reality when the truck dipped, a tell-tale sign that more than two people had entered his vehicle. He turned around and saw three familiar faces he shouldn't have been seeing. “Why am I seeing three extra faces that aren't supposed to be in here?” Theo asked, his voice flat and unimpressed.

“You can drop them off halfway,” Liam stated from the passenger seat. “I texted you about it.”

Theo blinked at him before pulling out his phone. Liam had, in fact, texted him. “I didn't say yes,” he argued.

“You also didn’t say no,” Liam countered easily. “Next time, read your messages, or better yet, check your phone.”

“I agreed to drive you, not your merry band of misfits,” Theo snapped, but still slotted his key into the ignition, feeling all three heads in the back pointedly stare at each other. They were probably confused, which was exactly how Theo wanted them to feel.

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Liam said dismissively as Theo pulled out of the parking lot. “So what did the new pack member look like? Can we meet him? I can smell his anxiety on you.” He asked, almost sounding impatiently excited.

“None of your business,” Theo replied. “Also, no.”

Liam made a face. “It’s a hundred percent my business. When Scott’s gone, I’m—”

“You’re the interim-alpha, I get it.” Theo said cutting him off, already tired with the argument. “It’s none of your business because I said so. You’ll have your own time to meet him so stop putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Theo didn’t have to see the frown on Liam’s face. He could feel it forming. “You’re a lot more of an asshole than usual, what’s got you worked up?”

He had slept on the floor for the past few weeks, he’s on a slump on his investigation that Scott is depending on to find Monroe, there were unnecessary cases he’s been thrusted at, there’s a kid he barely knows that he’ll have to deal with, the Sheriff still didn't trust him enough to go on patrol alone, and there are students sitting at the back of his truck who either tried to kill him or he had tried to kill.

It’s a massive shitshow.

And Theo fully knew why he’s stuck in this situation. He just couldn’t grasp the idea of why he chose this, but couldn’t stop himself from doing everything first and asking questions later. Only that those questions just kept on piling and piling up, and he’s terrified to know the answer if he had enough time to think.

“Gee, I don’t know why, maybe because I’m not your god damn driver but look where I’m at.” Theo snarled instead because it’s easier that way.

“Stiles said Theo’s the one helping the new werewolf with his control,” Mason announced from the back. A quick glance at the rearview mirror told Theo that the guy had his phone out, reading from his messages. Theo might be an atheist, but he found himself praying for patience, quite desperately at that.

A few collective surprised reactions erupted in the cramped room with Nolan peeking over Mason’s shoulder. “Stiles said that?” He asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Well not exactly,” Mason said with a shrug, scrolling through his phone as if to reassure himself that he read it correctly. “But he was very vocal of his disappointment on Scott that he even asked Theo. He then was very surprised that Theo even agreed, before being collectively disappointed in all of us.” The last part made Mason make a face from their sudden involvement.

“His opinion is as important as a rat's ass to me.” Theo commented, turning a corner.

“Theo’s going to help the new guy with control?” Liam asked, a strange note in his voice Theo couldn't place. “What, like being a temporary anchor?”

This time, Theo scoffed out of sheer disbelief. “Me, an anchor?” He asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wouldn’t put that poor kid in that situation.”

There was a silent exchange in the group that Theo had no context about. He could only guess it revolved around Alec since that had been the very center of the topic they were discussing. Something in the far back of his mind told him otherwise, but Theo had ignored it, because sometimes knowing wouldn’t make things better.

“I actually think it makes sense.” Corey suddenly said, right behind Theo. Three pairs of eyes suddenly stared at him causing the chameleon to fumble for further explanation. “I mean, he helped us with our control.”

Theo knew Corey wasn’t talking about the McCall pack. Corey was talking about his first pack, the one Theo had led, the one and only pack that Theo had built and destroyed out of his pure selfish gains. Sometimes, Theo would wash up and stare at his hands, the same hands that thrusted through Tracey’s body, the same hand that took Maxine’s pain away.

Somehow, finding that girl didn’t feel like an achievement.

“Yeah, well,” Theo started. “I killed half of you anyway, let’s hope that wouldn’t be the same for the new kid.”

The silence that stretched within the group was deafening.

“Dude,” Liam said. “Too soon.”

---

Theo's life was now a rigid, uncomfortable choreography. He had officially cut back his hours at the Sheriff's office, leaving him frustrated. His days were a brutal realignment of training Alec, yet he was still bound to the morning routine of driving Liam to his lacrosse practice. And every single night, he found himself on the floor at the foot of the beta’s bedroom door, a self-imposed exile driven by the cold reality that ordinary nightmares work hard, but Liam’s trauma-induced dreams work harder.

There were nights when Liam’s heart didn't skyrocket, his panic muted enough that Theo didn't have to launch himself off his bed. But it didn't sound the same, which frustrates him to some extent. He would actively search for that steady, deep thrum of the beta's heart. Without that sound, the quiet of the house felt desolate, not peaceful. And if that meant the familiar, agonizing stiffness in his back and a crick in his neck every morning, he would welcome the pain.

Theo pulled into the McCall driveway, having just dropped the human hurricane at practice. Melissa opened the door, a forced smile across her face. Her voice was too bright, her expression too tight, the scent of antiseptic clinging to her scrubs. “Theo, hi. Alec’s out back.” Theo noted the clean knot of her hair and the fresh scent of fabric softener on her scrubs—she was just about to start a long shift. He wasn't sure why he cataloged such mundane details.

The chimera gave a curt nod, waiting for Melissa to step aside before entering the house and heading straight out back.

He found Alec sitting on the cool grass, his back to Theo, aggressively yanking wild plants from the soil. The air around the kid pulsed with a sharp, anxious scent. “I broke three mugs and a plate last night,” Alec announced the moment Theo was within earshot.

“Congrats?” Theo said, not really knowing what to say to that.

“I broke three mugs and a plate because the faucet was too loud,” Alec repeated, his voice tight with humiliation, his hands digging into the earth.

“And?” Theo asked, letting the silence stretch. “What do you want me to do, take pity on you? News flash, you’re not the first werewolf to have problems with control.” He reminded the younger teen. “I shouldn’t even be wasting my time on you. The only reason I’m even bothered to deal with your sorry ass is because Scott asked.”

“And you’re still mean,” Alec snapped, twisting around to glare. His eyes flashed a raw, unsteady yellow—a sign of the control he hadn't yet grasped.

Theo narrowed his eyes, unimpressed by the attempt at intimidation. “We have two, maybe three months, if we’re lucky, to get you straightened up,” he reminded him, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s barely enough time to teach a puppy to fetch, let alone mastering your own genetics. This isn’t about being nice; it’s about being effective. Now get up, brush the dirt off your pants, and get in the damn car.”

Alec’s control wasn't just bad; it was a disaster. Where Liam’s control was a tightly wound wire prone to snapping under rage, Alec’s was a delicate machine shattered by any strong emotion. And it was probably due to immediate trauma from being locked up and chased down by hunters, exactly in that order. Anything could be a trigger for Alec, he’s a walking, shifting mood ring.

For the first week, Theo’s training was a chaotic process of sensory overload. He provoked Alec with every cheap trick he knew—sudden movements, loud noises, sharp insults—to ground his senses. The problem wasn't getting Alec to shift; the problem was getting him to shift back.

“It’s your heartbeat, the more erratic it gets, the more difficult for you to shift back,” Theo explained, the air thick with Alec’s frustrated, lingering scent. “You need to learn how to modulate your heart better.”

“You just scared the crap out of me! You expect my heart not to jump out of my chest?” Alec demanded, rubbing his temples.

“I expect you to control your shifting, not your heart, but since your panic is the trigger, you’ll have to learn the whole process.” Theo countered, his voice flat.

Alec made a truly annoyed face. “You want me to control my shift, you want me to control my heartrate—which is the goal here? Pick a damn lane!”

“I want you to control yourself despite your heartrate,” Theo snapped, stepping back. “Again.”

Alec’s young and emotional, two of the worse ingredients to mix together when making a werewolf. Anything was a trigger, and even after a few days of training, his improvements were barely there. Any minor inconvenience could make him fully shift and Theo’s not dumb to realize they might not make it until the first week of school.

Stretching his neck, Theo remembered something and pulled out his phone. He checked the calendar and realized how close it was before the full moon. Theo briefly wondered if Stiles still had his chains lying around somewhere.

At the edge of the clearing, Theo caught a familiar figure. Tara, a silent, almost spectral observer, stood a few feet away. He slowly turned to face her, waiting for the inevitable emotional pressure to drop. She was always here in the Preserve, a chilling reminder of his past, perpetually waiting for Theo to come back—waiting for her heart.

“What the hell are you looking at?” Alec exclaimed, his voice cutting through the tension. He was stuck inside a perfect circle of mountain ash. “Get me out of here, I need to pee.”

“Your ears are still protruding,” Theo pointed out, a small reminder that the beta couldn't leave the circle if he hadn’t shifted completely back to his human features. “Just pee in there.”

“I might be a werewolf now but I’m not an animal. Let me pee!” Alec complained, banging a hand against an invisible wall.

Theo faked a moment of deep consideration just to stretch the kid's agony, a small, selfish amusement. Then, deciding he'd tortured Alec long enough, he walked over and deliberately scraped his boot through the barrier. Immediately, Theo watched as Alec started running through the trees, in search of privacy.

Theo’s phone chimed with a notification. It was a text message from Liam.

Can i watch u train Alec? i dn’t wanna do my summr readin alone @ home. i knw ur new hrs now, u don't have a shift 2day @ the Sheriff’s.

Liam’s text etiquette was still atrocious.

Don’t you have lacrosse practice? Theo texted instead. It wasn't a yes, but it was far from a refusal. Theo frowned at himself when he realized his mouth smiling. He turned and saw Tara standing a few feet farther now, but she’s still there, a permanent presence in Theo’s continuing life.

“Can we not work with that sand? I don’t like banging my head on something I can’t see,” Alec requested as soon as he came back. An immature pout on his face.

Theo raised an eyebrow. “First of all, this isn't sand, it’s mountain ash.” he said, gesturing to the pouch he’s holding. “Second, no. It’s better you get exposed to countermeasures this early, especially things that could be used against you”

“How come you can pass through it?” The beta asked. “Aren’t you a werewolf?”

“I’m part coyote," Theo corrected, his voice devoid of inflection. “I’m a chimera.”

Alec made a face, arms crossing over his chest. “Still a supernatural being, so why?”

Theo’s ability wasn't granted by nature. His part-wolf side, the claws and fangs, was synthetic. This was why the full moon didn't send him spiraling, why the mountain ash could barely pose a threat. While others fought to suppress their beast, Theo had to force his out. He wasn't bitten, he wasn't turned—he was made. And no matter how many lives he had taken, his eyes would always remain the deceptive yellow; a lie.

And wasn't that what completely defined him?

“Let’s just say I’m not your typical shapeshifter and leave it as that,” Theo said, ending the dangerous self-reflection. “Now, get back in the circle, we have the entire day ahead of us.”

Alec’s nose wrinkled in a purely juvenile display of complaint. “Scott said I only train in the morning.”

Theo scoffed, amused but he’s not gullible. “With how bad you’re going? You’re already lucky I’m giving you a break.”

He was hyper-aware of the cold weight of Tara’s presence. Just a few minutes away, he knew the bridge sat silently—rotting wood and dark, indelible stains—the very structure where he had killed his sister. Theo couldn't keep himself away from the preserve. A sick sense deep inside him would always attract him back here, like a moth to a flame.

"Again, are you even trying?" Theo demanded after delivering a sharp, focused punch to Alec’s jaw. The impact jarred the beta, who immediately went into a full, snarling shift.

He could feel Tara standing directly behind him now, the temperature dropping a noticeable degree.

“I am trying! I’m trying so hard,” Alec whined, his voice thick with frustration, one huge, clawed hand clutching his throbbing face.

“Then prove it, stand up and try again.”

They went over the exercise over and over again. At first, it was amusing watching Alec slam head first against the mountain ash barrier, standing up with fully shifted features and a snarl, but it’s been almost a week and amusement easily became frustration. Maybe Theo’s doing something wrong here.

Tara still loomed, far too close.

Theo refrained himself from turning around, refrained himself from digging his nails at the palm of his hand. Not when he’s not alone, not when Alec’s still here.

“You guys have been at it since this morning, how much are you torturing the poor kid?” Liam’s voice cut through the woods, startlingly loud and cheerful. He walked towards them, his lacrosse stick resting easily on his shoulder.

Alec’s reaction was explosive and predictable. He sprang up, snarling, claws and fangs fully deployed. Startled by the sudden hostility, Liam’s features flashed out, letting loose a quick, guttural roar before he caught himself. Theo pressed his fingers hard against the bridge of his nose, physically trying to hold his patience in check.

“This is why I didn’t explicitly say you could come,” Theo reminded the older beta.

Liam's features snapped back to normal instantly, a testament to his own hard-won control, while Alec blinked rapidly, struggling to revert. “You asked me if I still had lacrosse practice, which I don't—Coach broke his knee, different story.” Liam explained, completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused. “Also, you didn’t exactly say no.”

“And I didn’t say yes,” Theo shot back, his eyes flashing with exasperation.

Liam shrugged. “Semantics,” he said before dropping his lacrosse stick and duffel bag on the ground, crouching on his bag as he fished out a book, probably for his summer reading.

“You being here is a distraction.” Theo pointed out in exasperation.

“I’ll just be reading on my small corner,” Liam said, indicating a seat under his chosen tree. “Nothing distracting about that.”

The chimera’s eyes narrowed. “Who says you’re distracting us? You can barely finish your homework without checking your phone every god damn second. What makes you think you’ll be able to sit still and read?”

“I resent that,” Liam weakly argued, but he sat down anyway, settling against the tree. “Just pretend I’m not here.” His gaze finally settled on Alec, who was still trying to subdue his features. “Hey, hi, I’m Liam.”

It wasn’t said, but Theo could read the recognition in Alec’s eyes. He recognized Liam’s name as the person with IED, the one Theo had complained about in the Sheriff’s office. “Uhh… hi, I’m— I’m Alec.”

Frowning, Theo turned, checking the space behind him. Tara’s dense, cold presence was completely gone. The air was just air, the temperature normal. The familiar crushing feeling had vanished. It was as if she wasn’t there to begin with.

Theo returned to stare at Liam, sitting under a tree, looking ludicrously out of place and slightly vulnerable as he searched for the last page he left on his summer reading.

“Hey, do you have snacks?” The beta asked.

Theo, feeling a little overwhelmed, could only muster out a flat: “No.” he turned to look at Alec who still has some of his features out. “Let’s try again.”

The preserve usually didn't have cell service, but in the area Theo was training Alec, he was sure that the spot had reception. He had to verbally promise the Sheriff that his cell number will always be available whenever they’re out here. People have worse protocols when under strict surveillance, Theo should be grateful, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to be.

So it’s massively impressive that Liam did manage to read his school summer reading when his phone was right next to him. Theo briefly wondered how many books Liam was tasked to read.

A shout then a list of colorful curses made Theo turn to look at Alec, whose hand was bleeding from gripping his fist too tight. Theo looked at the sky, then at Liam, before returning back to the youngest beta. “I think you need an anchor.”

Alec stared at him, confused, his frustration momentarily forgotten. “A what?”

“An anchor,” Theo repeated. “It’s something that helps werecreatures ground themselves.” When Alec continued to stare at him blankly, Theo elaborated. “Think of it this way: when your emotions spike be it either anger, fear, surprise—which in your case, everything—your mind is overloaded, and that makes you shift uncontrollably. The anchor is the emergency brake that prevents it.”

“Alright,” Alec breathed heavily, hope flashing in his eyes. “How do I get one?”

Theo refrained from a dramatic eye roll. “You don’t get one, you find one,” he answered. “It’s not just some random object; it’s a multi-layered tool that forces order on your wolf when you can’t. It could be a person, could be an object, could be a quote, could be a memory, it could even be an emotion. It can be anything as long as it helps you.”

Alec frowned, “How can I find that kind of anchor?”

Theo shrugged, the movement weary. “I didn’t say it would be easy,” he said. “It’s a lot of trial and error. Everyone I know has changed anchors at least once. It’s possible you can find a temporary anchor before you find a better one.”

Alec made a face, Theo had to remind himself that the beta has no knowledge of the supernatural. “It’s not permanent?”

”No,” was Theo’s flat response. “Scott’s first anchor was his dead ex-girlfriend.”

The startled and somehow scared look on Alec’s face almost made Theo feel good. “Uh…”

“You’ll get used to it,” Liam called somewhere from behind, indicating to Theo’s morbid humor. “We still don’t, sometimes, though.” He added, before flipping a page.

Theo decidedly ignored the comment. “Don’t think too hard on it. You’ll find one, and not for the lack of trying, because by tomorrow, you better have a list of possible anchors for yourself.” He said, causing immediate bafflement on Alec’s face. “Since Scott’s home for the summer, ask his advice. Just avoid the love-shit. Unless they can take care of themselves, if a person is your anchor, assume that they will be used against you.”

“So… wait, an anchor is supposed to be a secret?”

“If it can be used against you, mostly yeah,” Theo answered with a nod. “Only your pack and the people you trust should know. So if you found a real one, don’t tell me.”

The look Alec gave him was a mix of surprise and confusion, but he said nothing. Instead, his expression hardened with sudden determination. “What’s your anchor.”

Theo smirked, impressed by the bold action. He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t have one. Losing control is a problem I don’t have.”

Alec’s eyes narrowed skeptically. “You don’t have an anchor, and mountain ash doesn't work on you.” He said, as if accusing Theo of this ability. “What exactly are you?”

”Like I said, I’m not your typical shapeshifter.”

They ended Alec’s training at that, Theo had assumed there won’t be any progress for them anyway if Alec didn't have an anchor, be it at least even for temporary. Especially with the full moon coming. Liam still has a few pages left in his summer reading but he was glad enough to leave the Preserve because in his exact words ‘I’m hungry and bored’.

Liam had taken the passenger seat prompting Alec to take the seat at the back. It was very obvious that the older beta had gotten accustomed to Theo’s truck that he easily plugged his phone into the music player and started his playlist. The small moment was so jarringly domestic that Theo had to blink twice.

“What?” Liam asked, oblivious.

“You chose a stupid music.” Theo said instead.

“Pink Floyd is fine, you’re the stupid one.”

It was a little over five minutes when Alec asked a big question. Liam was in the middle of telling Alec how Theo’s taste in music was invalid since he didn't even listen to it when the beta opened his mouth. “What’s your anchor?”

Liam visibly stopped, mouth hanging open, his line of thought completely cut off. “Uhhh…” was all his mouth could stupidly manage. A thick, palpable anxiety immediately settled in the truck, pressing against the windows. Liam was staring looking ahead but staring at nothing, his knuckles white against the dashboard.

Theo took a glance at Liam’s direction and sure enough, he had a dumb look on his face. Theo frowned. Was Liam embarrassed of his little mantra? It’s a Buddhist saying, nothing about it should be embarrassing.

“It’s a mantra,” Theo interjected smoothly. “ ‘The sun, the moon and the truth.’ Three things cannot long be hidden.” Theo gave the line with the cool detachment of a historical fact. “It’s not really something that can be used against you.”

“Oh.” Alec murmured, accepting the answer as belonging to Liam.

“Can we stop talking about anchors, I’m really hungry,” Liam whined, the change in topic clumsy but desperate.

It wasn’t a lie, but Theo recognized the panicked deflection. The moment bothered him, a tiny, unsolved puzzle he filed away. “Okay.” Theo said, pulling onto the main road. “But you’re paying.”

---

Alec had somehow managed to find a temporary anchor: the memory of his simple, non-supernatural life. It was a tragically fragile foundation, but it made training dramatically easier and far less grueling. The unexpected efficiency meant Theo was clocking in at the Sheriff’s office earlier than initially expected.

The full moon was looming, only a few days away. Theo’s somehow grateful that some, if not all, of the McCall pack was back in town for the summer, meaning he won’t be the one dealing with Alec’s first full moon. Stiles’ is already a veteran by this point.

Theo's rigid new schedule—the delicate balance of training Alec, relentlessly working to find Monroe, and handling the occasional supernatural cleanup assigned to Parrish—allowed him to effectively avoid interacting with the pack. He used his work as an iron-clad excuse. He wasn't lying when he told Liam he couldn't come to the barbecue Scott was hosting a few days after the full moon; with the Sheriff and Parrish both invited, there truly was no one else to manage the active case files.

Besides, Theo genuinely preferred it that way.

“Are you sure you’re busy?” Liam asked for what felt like the tenth time. He was completely at ease, sprawled diagonally across Theo’s bed, his summer reading book laid across his belly.

“I am.” was Theo’s clipped, low reply. He was hunched over his desk chair, his focus entirely on the photocopied files spread before him—documents the Sheriff didn’t know were missing at the office.

“But Alec said his training has improved," the beta argued, pushing himself up to sit straight. “You can’t be that busy.”

Theo let out a scoff, turning to give Liam an unimpressed look. “Improvement doesn’t mean we’re doing great, and what do you think I’m doing at the Sheriff’s? Filing tax returns? I do real case work.” He paused, his attention finally landing on the breach. “Why the hell are you in my room?”

“Fine, I’ll leave,” Liam said with a theatrical huff of surrender, standing up. The lack of a drawn-out argument surprised Theo; typically, they’d spar longer, especially with the rising tension of the full moon. “You should add some posters, dude—”

“Don’t call me dude.”

“—Your room looks sad, and barren.”

“Why are you still here?” Theo asked, the soft hiss of his mounting irritation now audible.

“I’m out, I’m out.” Liam repeated, stomping out the room with the practiced immaturity of a kid denied dessert.

Theo had already solidified his decision to pass on the barbecue. He hadn't been genuinely invited—Liam's hasty, obligatory invite counted as courtesy, not a true welcome. His self-isolation was secure. That security dissolved when he looked up and found Melissa McCall standing right in front of Parrish’s desk. Her expression was a peculiar mix of nervous energy and absolute maternal determination.

“Alec’s training finished three hours ago,” Theo immediately said. “He’s with Scott; full moon and all.” he added, with a wave of his dried up marker that he was earlier smashing on the tablet, willing for the red ink to show up somehow.

“Oh, I know,” she said, giving a quick, dismissive jerk of her head. “I actually came here for you.”

Theo froze, his hand still holding the marker. He stared, blinked, and looked behind, briefly wondering if Parrish was standing behind him.

“Theo, I’m talking to you.” Melissa said, something in her voice he couldn’t put a finger on.

Theo looked up, a frown furrowing his brow. “Why?" He hadn’t meant the question to sound so accusatory, but Scott’s mom addressing him outside the context of his duties left him completely stumped.

"Barbecue night," Melissa answered, the two words dropping like heavy stones that explained everything and nothing at once. “Liam said you’re busy."

“Uhh…” Theo stared down at the utter mess covering Parrish’s wooden desk, then gestured at the chaos. “Does this not give it away?”

She stared back, then clicked her tongue against her teeth, the face of a determined mother settling across her features. “Noah had hinted that you might say that.”

“The Sheriff knows I’m busy.”

“I also know how great of a liar you are, Theo,” Melissa reminded him that caused the chimera to stare up at her, alarmed. “If you’re making yourself busy just to reject Liam’s invitation, that won’t work on me, so,” she added, gesturing at her presence, standing right in front of him.

Theo remained rigidly silent, waiting for the catch.

“How about this: I’m asking you to come to my house earlier than everyone else. I am only one person and there’s only so much I can do to feed a pack of werecreatures.” she suggested.

Theo’s eyes narrowed, processing the bait. “You’re trusting me enough to cook with you? Without anyone from the pack with us?" he asked, the absurdity of the request making his voice cold. “I killed your son, Melissa."

Melissa’s gaze hardened, meeting his stare without flinching. “I don’t trust you, Theo," she said, the honesty sharp and clean. “I don’t trust you but you don’t scare me, I’ve already dealt with a lot worse things to be scared of you,” she added.

Theo wanted to ask why then, why extend an olive branch? He knew where he stood here in Beacon Hills, his whole current relationship with the McCall pack is purely transactional. Being ignored and him keeping an arm’s length away from them was enough of a reminder that where Theo stood, he stood there alone.

Being invited to this breaks that line, the one that had started to blur the more he spent his waking nights against Liam’s door.

“I’m bringing Liam with me,” Theo finally conceded, staring intently at the littered files, establishing a condition. “He can’t drive for shit.”

“Then I’ll see you on Friday." she said, a brief flash of triumphant smugness crossing her face, Theo had half a mind to take back what he said

Theo didn’t look up when she left, simply discarding the broken, spent marker, opening a fresh one, and beginning to write over the file’s pages. He ignored the questions, choosing the soothing, blissful naivety over the truth of how odd and completely unexpected the exchange with Melissa was. No matter how ill-advised the invitation was.

Questioning it would only give him more questions.

Theo had expected Liam to be out of the house this night for once. He was rather keen to the idea of sleeping on his bed and not on the hardwood floor. Granted, sleep would be harder to come by without the beta’s heartbeat, but that doesn't mean he can’t live without it.

Expecting that Liam’s out, Theo had deliberately stayed in the Sheriff’s department a little longer than usual before packing up his things and heading home, being no less closer to knowing where Monroe was but only knowing how erratic her movements were.

It should be a cause for concern but nothing really drastic has yet to happen to make it seem that way. All proof he has was his gut.

Theo pulled into the Geyer-Dunbar driveway a little after eleven. He could’ve been later if the Sheriff hadn’t dragged him out of his chair after closing the lights (to which Theo just made his eyes glow and continued on reading through the dark). Theo was just about to slot his key into the keyhole when the front door slammed open. There stood Liam, eyes glowing and his fangs barely sheathed.

“Where,” Liam started with a low, dangerous growl that resonated in Theo's chest, “Were you?”

Theo blinked and stared at the full moon high above before returning his gaze on Liam. “I texted,” he did, he really left a text message on Mrs. Geyer’s phone. “Why are you here?” He asked, noticing a more valid problem. “Your control’s slipping, shouldn’t you be with McCall?”

“I still have summer homework I need to finish,” Liam insisted, rubbing his temples with trembling fingers and drawing a ragged, counted breath. The visible, miraculous, effort made some of the acute tension bleed out of his frame.

Huh.

Ignoring the noticeable pattern, Theo gave him a flat look. “You have a little less than two months for you to cram your school shit. I’ve seen you play your videogames until eleven before you do your pre-calc, Liam,” he accused. “Why are you here?”

“You’re so fucking annoying when you try to be a smartass—”

“I am smart.”

“—Just let me do my shit in your room.”

Theo cocked out an eyebrow. “Why?” Liam let out a punched-out groan of sheer, volatile frustration; his eyes flared brighter, his forehead creasing as he struggled against his inner wolf. Theo, despite himself, felt a wash of reluctant pity. “Alright, fine, whatever. Just don’t pee on the floor.”

“And your face is still very punchable right now.”

“I could still lock you out of my room.”

Theo’s not stupid. With all the clues glaring right in front of his face. Even Malia, with her spectacularly low IQ, would realize the glaring issue. But he ignored it, he didn’t want to acknowledge it yet, not when acknowledging the issue could just probably tip him over the edge.

When Liam eventually passed out on Theo’s desk—his cheek smooshed against the spiral of his workbook, his breathing evening out—Theo let him be. He simply wished with bitter, juvenile resentment that when morning came, the beta's back would hurt. See how that motherfucker likes it.

---

A day before the barbecue cookout, that Theo had tried not to count, the chimera had leant back on his chair and swiveled it sideways, running his fingers through his hair filled with twigs and dead leaves from Alec’s training a few hours earlier. He was staring at the map on the table, referencing a file he was holding, eyes moving back and forth as if trying to find the difference, or at least a sign.

With a defeated huff, Theo threw the paper somewhere on the side and ran a hand down his face, tired and frustrated from the lack of progress. His fingers were covering some portion of his perception making a pinhole vision, concealing some areas on the map that for some sheer dumb luck, showed Theo a pattern.

The chimera froze, his breath catching in his throat. He sat up, the squeak of the chair a loud sound in the quiet office.

He grabbed a thick black marker and violently crossed out dozens of redundant, dead-end locations. A few clean, precise lines now converged across the map. Theo snatched up a file, skimmed it, and ditched it for a specific grainy photograph: a warehouse situated up north, deep in a secluded area near the border that Parrish and he had previously dismissed. Theo reached for a pin, swapped his black marker for a vivid red one, and slammed it onto the map.

If his data from limited patrols could be trusted—and he trusted his intellect far more than himself these days— Monroe's hunters were orchestrating suspicious migration patterns along the border, and the deep preserve warehouse was the nexus.

“Great deduction on this part. I’ll update you when we get to scope the area,” the Sheriff said calmly when Theo presented the pinned findings.

The chimera stared, adrenaline draining away to confusion. “Update? What do you mean update?” he demanded. “Why can’t we go there now?”

“Firstly, we can’t just go there, there are protocols. And unless there's valid proof of immediate danger, we can’t mobilize this second.” the Sheriff explained.

“Protocols?” Theo’s voice was a low snarl of disbelief. “You’re the Sheriff, Noah.”

“I’m the Sheriff, that’s exactly why I should follow everything by the rule,” the older man snapped, the annoyance clear in his voice.

Theo grit his teeth and let out an annoyed groan,“You know why more people die in this place? It’s because of how incompetent everyone is! The only saving grace was Peter being stupid enough to bite McCall, and even his little pack had left people for dead because kids can’t do shit when the adults are too blind to see the damn problem!”

The sudden, loud rasp of Theo’s breathing was the only sound in the office. The Sheriff only stared, his expression heavy, as if Theo’s uncontrolled outburst was a sad, expected thing. Theo muttered a curse under his breath.

“I hadn’t meant to yell,” he said, the apology sounding weak and brittle even to his own ears.

The Sheriff only leaned back and inhaled. “If your deduction is correct and we are dealing with a group of hunters, you and I can’t handle them alone,” he said, voice leveled and steady. “You’re not a lone wolf anymore Theo, you agreed to work with us, so work with us and let me contact the others first.” He then pressed his lips together, as if letting Theo take a breath before he delivered the final words. “I know guilt can be a heavy burden.”

Theo took a precise, controlled step back, planting his feet firmly on the wooden floor to ensure he didn't shake. An influx of sensory memory overwhelmed the present: the metallic, thick smell of blood on his hands after the dissection; the cold, slick texture of Tracy's dead scales beneath his fingers; the high, desperate pitch of Josh's final scream; the feeling of his own claws sliding through the tissue of his own pack members; the heavy, echoing silence in the hospital corridor after his sister pulled his heart, leaving only painful emptiness. Memories of multiple people surfaced in the forefront of his mind, screams that had led him awake at night, remembering the deaths he created and lives he took long before he understood what regret meant.

“I am not feeling guilt,” he hissed, the lie scratching painfully out of his mouth.

“And right now, you’re not a great liar.”

Theo simply stormed out of the office.

He didn’t finish his shift, didn’t even log out, leaving the files scattered across the desk. He marched right towards his truck and left the Sheriff’s office, driving away as if the mere act of movement would help him breathe, but the air remained thin and cold. He gripped the steering wheel hard until his knuckles were bloodless white. Every turn he made, every post he passed through, a manifestation of Tara seemed to be standing there, staring at him, as if the mere idea of him spiralling wasn’t enough.

“She’s not here,” he told himself, voice shaky under his breath. “She’s not here.” he repeated as if willing himself to believe such nonsense. She couldn’t be here, she’s gone, dead, Theo made sure of that, had watched it happen with his own god damn eyes.

But she’s still there.

Theo drove faster. “Get a grip, Theo.” he continued to tell himself. “Get a fucking, god damn grip.” But she’s still there, creeping at the back of his mind. Her presence was more distinct and ominous than before, almost like the ground would open up under him and she would be there to greet him.

His truck screeched to a halt right in front of Liam’s house, the tires rolling violently across the pavement as he threw the gear into park and scrambled frantically out of the vehicle. He stood there, gasping for air as if he was drowning, his lungs aching with phantom water. Theo scrambled towards the door and froze. He turned and stared at Tara, not the one he met down there, but the one he maliciously let freeze to death.

She wasn’t looking at him ominously, no. This one would never hurt him. This one was the same girl who had still asked for his help as Theo stood over her, calculating the moment she would take her last breath.

Theo stopped breathing.

The door opened.

“You’re back early,” Liam said, his voice flat, gnawing at a piece of beef jerky with distracting intensity. He paused, a frown forming on his face as he took in Theo’s state. “Watcha’ looking at? Looked like you’ve seen a ghost.” he asked, completely oblivious.

Theo’s hyper-focused gaze snapped back to the spot where the memory of Tara had stood. The space was now blessedly, jarringly empty. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of everything—the panic, the terror, the instantaneous cure. Instead, he could only stare at the beta in front of him, still stupidly gnawing his beef jerky. Theo finally breathed easy, the air filling his lungs without resistance. “Thought I saw a rat.”

“Don’t joke like that in front of my mom, she’ll take it seriously.” Liam warned. “Why are you back so early anyway?”

Theo straightened his shoulders, the physical act of returning to his rigid self. “Made a great deduction. The Sheriff said to wait for an update. Decided to end it for the day,” he answered, running a hand through his hair, which felt damp with cold sweat. “Why are you back so early?” he asked back, remembering very well that he had driven Liam to practice just this morning.

The beta shrugged, the movement casual. “I found out Nolan’s planning to ditch tomorrow, so I ditched today.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “I thought Nolan dropped out of being co-captain?”

“Coach is very persuasive,” Liam answered, before turning around and marching back into the house, Jenna and David predictably out of the house, working. “Fix your parking, dude.” He called from inside.

Theo turned to stare at his truck, haphazardly angled onto the sidewalk—the only remaining remnant of his terrifying mental flight. “Don’t call me dude,” he muttered instead.

Theo wasn't stupid, and this time, the truth was too pressing to ignore. He finally had the raw nerve to acknowledge it. Technically, he couldn't have—and shouldn't need—an anchor. Anchors were fundamental tools, psychological lifelines that kept a natural werewolf tethered to sanity during the height of the full moon, something far more effective than mere metal chains. Theo’s synthetic nature meant his abilities were something he needed to force out, not contain; they were a feature, not a flood.

And yet, he still found himself needing one, in the most humane way possible. In hindsight, the Doctors really made a failure, and Theo didn’t know what to feel about that.

Dependency is a scary thought. He was so used to doing things on his own, pushing himself harder to evolve or he’ll just end up as those countless others that died on the metal table. Theo was so used to the idea that only he can save himself, to be stronger, to not be a failure the Doctors had made him to be. And even after all that, he still needed to survive on his own, without anyone and with everyone baring their teeth against him.

Liam had somehow, irrevocably, ruined that.

Theo had been doing so well on his own. He couldn’t exactly say it was the best way of living, but with his circumstances, he was doing a damn good job at it. He liked to think he was. Had the Sheriff not found him that fateful night, Theo might not be in too deep. He had been fine simply just wanting Liam to be alive, he never questioned it after the Ghost Riders, after the war. But this need, this visceral, involuntary reliance—this shouldn't have to happen.

It’s terrifying. Theo’s so fucking scared.

Yet he still found himself dragging a pillow and blanket with him down the short hall, setting up camp directly against Liam’s bedroom door. Because Theo was a weak, weak person. Just when he got a taste, he’s craving it like a desperate addict, finding ways to keep on having it, to hear that soft thump of Liam’s heart no matter how much he told himself that he shouldn’t. The more he got to have this, the more it was hard to let go.

With his head pressed against the cool wooden surface, staring blindly at the dark ceiling, Theo engaged in a fierce internal rationalization: this is temporary, this is fine, just until they’ve dealt with Monroe. He can fucking have this because it’s better to know what it felt than to not feel it at all. This is fine, he will find the will to drive off to fucking nowhere and build a god damn solitary life there, knowing that Monroe is gone and Liam can live a cliche happy life without that bitch aiming for his head.

No one will have to know.

Except maybe Lydia.

“Theo?”

The chimera jolted violently, his head snapping up. He was so deeply shrouded in his thoughts that he hadn't processed that Mrs. Geyer was awake, standing in the hallway, staring at the sight of him—a fully grown man cocooned in a blanket against her son’s door. The expression on her face was far too telling that Theo might have a hard time lying his way through this.

He could throw Liam under the bus. It was a survival instinct. If anything, the necessity of Theo sleeping on the floor was just as critical to Liam as it was for Theo, albeit the beta being not aware of it.

Then again, how exactly would you explain to a mother that their son slept better if he can audibly hear Theo’s heartbeat without making it sound unbelievably supernatural.

You couldn't.

“It’s not what it looks like,” was the first, pathetic defense Theo found himself blurting out, unable to move from the floor where he was masterfully wrapped up in his stupidly warm blanket.

Mrs. Geyer raised an eyebrow and gave him a look. “It doesn’t look like you're sleeping on the floor against my son’s bedroom door, when you have a very functioning bed of your own?”

Theo stared at her, and blinked, because that, that is exactly what it looks like. “I don’t have a good explanation for this,” he confessed instead, because there truly wasn’t one without sounding like Theo’s a desperate psycho with attachment issues. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see me tonight and leave it as that?” If he sounded like he was close to begging, no one else was here to know.

Mrs. Geyer stared at him with this calculating look before finalizing on a thought Theo knew well enough that this would be a long night for the both of them. “Can I sit with you here?” She asked, gesturing on the empty floorspace parallel to Theo.

“Can I say no?”

“No.” she replied curtly.

Well, Theo couldn't say it was with a lack of trying.

“You know, I also have a hard time sleeping when David’s not around,” she said, taking a seat on the floor, reminding Theo that Liam’s stepdad was currently an on-call doctor. “The bed feels too big,” she explained. Theo knew where she was heading with this, knew that this atmosphere and set up was exactly an opening for the two of them. And fuck Theo for even creating such an opening.

“This isn’t the same,” Theo replied, his voice strained with denial.

“Sure,” she replied, amused. Theo couldn't find the right words to say to that. “I know, you’re keeping your distance, and I know that whatever I say won’t miraculously change your mind. So, how about we just talk? You and me, no pressure.”

Theo stared at her.

He could form words. He could open his mouth and let lie after lie flow out, weaving scenarios, constructing intricate defenses, and manipulating people with practiced ease. Theo could do that, but he didn't talk—not without a purpose, not without an objective. He desperately wanted to stand up and hide inside his designated room, but Liam was still sleeping soundly, and he has practice early in the morning.

When Mrs. Geyer noticed Theo’s continuous silence, she adjusted her seating and went for a different approach. “How about, you explain, this first?” She said, gesturing to his current situation—the man-sized blanket cocoon against her son’s door. “Because, I have questions. And I am concerned, wondering if I have to move you to a different, farther room.”

The implication was clear.

“No, no,” Theo immediately denied, correcting an obvious misunderstanding. “We're not—, it’s not like that.”

“Okay, great start,” she said, sounding rather cheerful, before slightly frowning. “Although hardly believable.”

Theo suppressed a frustrated groan. “Look, we’re not—” he paused, staring at the dark ceiling as if seeking help from above, then let out an exasperated exhale. “It’s hard to explain it to you without enough context.”

There’s a look on Mrs. Geyer’s face, something that told Theo that she’s not clueless, that the sad reality of things weren’t completely hidden from them by their son. She knows. To what extent? Theo didn't know, it could be just as simple as knowing how Beacon Hills was a mystery itself, or it could be as complicated as knowing what happens every full moon.

“Context,” she muttered, as if bracing herself. “Okay, I think I know a little context,” she said.

Theo stared at her, remaining silent, not wanting to add more complications than what she might already know.

“A little over half a year ago, the beginning of Liam’s junior year,” she started, staring at the dark hallway, mentally filing through fragmented memories she’d tried to rationalize away. “There were… things. Weird, unexplainable things I saw—flashes, shadows, movements that weren't right. I was scared most of the time, of random, impossible things.” Her voice was quiet, almost a confession. “And then there were things I saw with my own eyes that were undeniably real, and it scared me so, so much.”

It scares everyone, Theo thought. That’s its whole being.

“There were, children dying, who aren’t children somehow, being chased down, because… because they aren’t.” Brett, Lori, so many supernatural creatures that had caught in the middle of the war. “And Liam was gone most of the time, I can’t even get a hold of his phone. And then it was like, as if, he wasn’t planning on coming back at one point.” Her voice broke, but Theo remained silent, not knowing what to do other than to listen. “Then he came back, wouldn’t tell me anything, but I was relieved. As if all the time of being scared was suddenly lifted up and Liam back at home was the only thing making me not lose it.”

She took a deep breath and continued. “I’ve seen things, so many things and there’s no one I could ask,” then she finally stared at Theo, determined in her eyes. “Is the context, Liam being one of those children?”

She sounded scared, not of her son, but for the well-being of his son. Naivety was such a blissful blessing to have that Liam had fought tooth and nail to keep having for his parents. Apparently, it wasn’t enough. “I’m not the one who should tell you that.” Theo answered instead.

The accepting look on her face told Theo that she gathered as much. But the fact that Theo hadn’t denied her story was all the evidence she needed. But then she stared at him with this look that somehow felt like Theo’s not off the hook. “So, was that context enough for you to explain… this?” She asked again, gesturing pointedly at his cocooned form on the floor.

Mrs. Geyer was not dropping the topic. She possessed a relentless determination, like a dog with a bone. Somehow, Theo can see where Liam got his invasive determination. He shouldn’t find the thought funny.

Theo gave it a thought, and decided to bite the bullet. “Liam has chronic nightmares, do you know that?” He asked. The immediate, pinched expression on her face confirmed that yes, she was painfully aware. “Me within close proximity helps him with it.” It’s scarily effective, a fact he didn't say.

She blinked. “How did you know about his nightmares?” The question wasn’t accusatory, but a genuine expression of a parent unsure what to ask next.

Theo shrugged. “Kinda hard not to notice,” Noting her look of overwhelmed uncertainty, he offered a small, dangerous piece of context. “I’m one of those children, just a different kind.”

Mrs. Geyer took a deep breath, an expression on her face that told Theo she’s trying to swallow the information down without tipping over the edge, trying to be understanding as much as possible. Something Theo still had a hard time to comprehend.

“So…” she started, her mind already navigating back to the previous assumption. “Your presence calms him?”

“Heartbeat.” Theo corrected, the technical term sounding horribly intimate in the quiet hall. The look she gave him—a mix of raised eyebrows and parental speculation—confirmed the answer had just made the romantic implication a thousand times worse. “It’s really not like that,” he answered tiredly. “We’re not like that.”

“Is there a different context behind it?” she asked, her voice quiet but firm, refusing to be fobbed off.

“Yes,” a context Theo had yet to even confront to himself. “And I don’t know it,” the words felt like a lie to his tongue. It shouldn’t, Theo’s willing that it shouldn’t.

Mrs. Geyer gave him a look of patient disbelief. “You don’t?”

Theo stared right back, planting his feet firmly in the lie.“There are questions I wouldn't like to know the answer to.”

“Somehow, it felt like you do,” she replied softly. Theo said nothing to that. There was nothing for him to say that would change her mind. Mrs. Geyer noticed this and leant back, bracing for another, calmer approach.

“It stopped, you know, Liam’s nightmares.”

Theo briefly remembered Liam’s words. I’ve had it for a while, but uh… I haven’t had any, as of late, until… well, until now.

“It stopped when you started living here,” she added, stating the factual observation. “Then, suddenly he started sleeping better—something he hadn’t done consistently in a long time. Apparently, you have something to do with it, and yet you still argue like cats and dogs every afternoon.”

Theo still had nothing to say. The desire to deny it, to turn a blind eye and run in the opposite direction, was overwhelming. Knowing was scary; fully facing the reality of his dependence was a different matter entirely. Naivety felt like such a blissful blessing, if only he could keep at it, if only he could pretend to be dumb for just a little longer. But sometimes, there were times he simply had to accept the reality and face it.

He still didn't fucking want to.

“Don’t tell Liam about this,” Theo said, the demand weak. Mrs. Geyer only stared at him, waiting. “Please, Mrs. Geyer.”

The sound of his desperation was enough. She gave him a look of profound, albeit unknowing, understanding. “Jenna,” she corrected gently. “I’m sitting on the floor right in front of you, having a heart-to-heart talk about god knows what right next to my son’s bedroom door. If you don’t call me Jenna, I’ll be offended.”

“Okay, Jenna.” If the name felt strangely natural as it left his mouth, he knew Jenna could see it written across his defeated expression.

Still, an important matter needs to be acknowledged. Theo plans to have a word with Scott, right after Alec’s training should do it.

Chapter Text

It was the day of the long dreaded barbecue night, and Theo’s trying to keep his mind away from that thought by putting it on his daily task. The mundane continuity of it had somehow been a helpful distraction.

“What’s your deal?” Alec asked, heaving air into his lungs as he lay sprawled on the damp ground, dead leaves and broken twigs clinging to his bushy, sweat-soaked hair. He was utterly drained from Theo’s relentless push to maintain emotional state under duress—specifically, resisting shifting during loud, annoying noise while being attacked.

Theo frowned at the beta, sending a quick text to the Sheriff notifying him that he'd be taking today off. “My what?”

“Your deal,” Alec repeated, propping himself up on an elbow. “I’ve heard stories about you, you know. Most of them aren’t nice.”

The chimera scoffed, pocketing his phone without waiting for a reply. “I bet,” he said dryly. It wouldn’t be a surprise if none of those stories were anything good. A flicker of self-consciousness, however, crept in: he wondered if Liam had told Alec stories of his own. Theo couldn’t help but feel oddly off kilter if nothing good about him came out of Liam’s mouth.

Their relationship, after all, didn't sound ideal.

Alec finally sat up fully, brushing away twigs and looking up at the chimera, “So what, are you suddenly reformed? Did you have a change of heart? Did Scott manage to change your mind?”

Theo, again, scoffed at the absurdity, “None of those,” he answered. “My relationship with your pack is purely transactional.”

“Okay…” Alec drew the word out, a pinched expression on his face signaling that his curiosity was far from quenched. “Then what do you get from this?”

Theo had been doing a lot lately, hadn't he? The realization bothered him, and it should. He stared down at his keychain, the number six ball glinting back at him as if daring Theo to flip the number upside down. The benefit wasn't material, and that was the problem, that’s what put him into this mess, and that’s why he stayed.

With a dismissive sigh, Theo pocketed his keys and gestured sharply for Alec to stand up. “That would be none of your business,” he said, the phrase clipped. “Training’s done. I have things to do. Get back in the car, or you’ll be walking.”

Alec groaned a protest but cleverly chose not to voice any further complaints.

I think you pushed her, and I think you liked it.

Theo turned to see Tara’s ominous presence still standing a few feet away from them, staring. He hadn’t gripped his hand tight enough to bleed, but he was close to doing it. Her presence was noticeably farther away this time, a spatial distance Theo tried not to think too much about.

“What are you looking at?” Alec asked, frowning in confusion, looking at where Theo was staring, seeing nothing. “You keep glancing back, it’s freaking me out.”

Theo ignored the comment. His attention had snagged on something else, a more pressing, real presence. He frowned. “Take a deep breath,” he ordered the beta sharply. “Try listening closely.”

Alec frowned, but complied, inhaling deeply. A second later, the telltale sign of recognition crossed the beta’s face. “Are those…” he started, straining to concentrate. “Are those heartbeats?” He asked, eyes widening at Theo, waiting for an answer.

“Mason and Corey’s,” Theo answered, already moving. “You should start familiarizing your pack’s heartbeats.” The suggestion earned him a low groan from the boy.

“What are they doing here?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking where they are going?” Theo corrected, turning sharply and walking towards the deeper part of the woods, toward the same secluded area where he’d found Maxine on that one night. Alec followed him right after with a clumsy, jerk-like movement. Theo rolled his eyes at the beta's lack of grace.

The McCall pack had plans later—the dreaded barbecue. Mason and Corey shouldn't be anywhere near here other than heading toward Liam’s house, as Theo was, apparently, their mandatory ride because Liam had suggested it. And Theo hadn't even been given the chance to say no, only informed after the decision was finalized. It had been an unnecessarily annoying ride this morning

“Where are they going?” Theo heard Alec parroted. At this point, his naivety should stop being amusing.

The chimera shrugged, “Do I look like I know?” He answered with a snide edge. “Why do you think we’re following them?”

“I was asking nicely,” Alec protested, before tripping on a root and barely saving himself from falling.

“Nice isn’t stupid.”

“Do you always have to be this mean?” the beta grouched, an evident pout forming on his face. The action was an unsettling reminder of Liam, and Theo instinctively shut the thought down. “It costs nothing to not be an asshole.”

“It also costs nothing to be one, so, point not proven.” Theo countered easily. The audible grumbling behind him told Theo the conversation was over, leaving the beta a sore loser.

It wasn’t that long before they reached Mason and Corey, who were busy arguing which way was which since they’ve lost cell signal. It’s a bit concerning that Liam's remaining pack was very dependent on technology. Theo decided that wasn’t his problem; they have McCall as their alpha for that.

“You kids seem to be lost,” Theo called out, his voice sharp enough to cause the other two to startle.

His attempt at a menacing entrance was immediately spoiled when Alec, following closely behind him, tripped on a branch and pitched forward onto the preserve’s floor. The new beta scrambled up, his eyes briefly flaring yellow from the shock and embarrassment. Theo stared up at the sky, asking for patience he wouldn't receive.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Alec exclaimed that was pointedly ignored by everyone.

“The hell are you doing here, Reaken?” Mason demanded instead.

“Shouldn’t I be asking the same thing?” Theo asked, pocketing his hands. When Mason only glared, Theo let out a tired sigh and rolled his eyes. “I was training Alec,” he said, jutting a thumb toward the pathetic mess of a beta behind him. “I was just about to leave when I heard you two not far away.” He finished, dropping his hand with a soft thump on his side. “Now, why are you two here? Shouldn’t you be at Liam’s?”

The couple—Mason and Corey—shared a terse, knowing look before staring back at Theo, their silent agreement settling on a decision Theo instinctively knew would be problematic. “We’ll go later,” Mason answered stiffly.

Theo’s eyes narrowed. It wasn't a lie, but it completely avoided the first question, an obvious deflection. “Okay, now answer the first question.”

“That’s none of your business,” Mason snapped defensively.

“Okay then, I’ll just call the Sheriff once I have a signal.” Theo taunted, waving his phone at them like a weapon.

Mason’s glare hardened, while Corey stared frantically at his boyfriend before looking back at Theo. The frantic look told the chimera that one more push would make everything spill. Theo allowed himself a winning smirk and pocketed his phone. “Alright, see you later at the Sheriff’s office.” He faked a move to turn and walk away.

“Mason!” Corey hissed desperately.

”Alright, fuck, wait!” Mason yelled, defeated. Theo stilled and faced them, making sure to let an annoying, victorious smirk settle on his features. “Liam doesn’t know about this so you better shut up.”

That sentence immediately wiped the smirk from Theo’s face. He frowned, and he frowned hard. Liam’s little puppy pack had been notoriously closed-knit since Scott left for college. Anything one knew, the others—now four—did too. It seemed completely far-fetched that Mason and Corey suddenly had a secretive agenda that deliberately excluded Liam.

Unless.

That agenda was about Liam. A sharp, cold spike of dread hit the pit of Theo’s gut. He found himself taking one heavy, terrifying step forward. “What is this about Liam?” he asked, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register.

“We didn’t say anything about Liam,” Mason defended.

“No, but him not knowing and you wanting him uninformed tells me that this little agenda you have is about him, or at least involves him.” Theo surmised. The immediate, pinched expression that painted the couple’s faces confirmed he had hit the bullseye, yet the accuracy of his guess did not make him feel any better. Theo muttered a harsh curse that was audible by everyone.

“Look, it’s not just about Liam,” Mason countered.

“It’s also about Nolan, well mainly it’s Nolan.” Corey continued, trying to clarify the focus.

Theo was a hair close to snapping that he gave zero fucks about Noaln when Alec’s face lit up in recognition, “Is this about those creepy text messages?” He asked, a little too cheerfully.

All pairs of eyes—Theo’s included—landed on Alec.

“You were listening on us?” Mason accused.

Alec raised his hands up in surrender, alarmed by the sudden hostile atmosphere, “I didn’t mean to, I swear. You guys were just loud; I can’t control it yet.”

Corey made a face and turned to stare at Theo, "Aren't you training him?”

“Believe it or not, he actually improved.” Theo commented before sobering up and returning to the more pressing matter. “What does he mean by ‘creepy text message’?”

Mason stared at him, his jaw hard, as if the mere thought of letting Theo in on this secret was an act of personal betrayal. The defiance only lasted a moment. With a tight, defeated huff, Mason fished a phone from his pocket, unlocked it, and quickly scrolled to a screen before thrusting the illuminated display towards Theo.

Theo didn't hesitate, taking less than a second to swipe the phone away and bring the LED screen closer, his eyes scanning the block of recent messages. The words were terse, calculated threats: bring Liam to the abandoned warehouse in the preserve, or videos of Nolan's time with the hunters would be sent to his family. The same warehouse Theo was eyeing.

The chimera stared at the phone, at Nolan’s phone, the grim information already processed.

Blackmail.

These messages were explicit, dangerous blackmail.

“What did they want with Liam?” Theo asked, forcing his voice to be level and nonchalant before throwing the phone back at Mason.

“We don’t know, that’s what we’re trying to find out.” Mason said, rubbing a finger over his forehead, the chore of informing Theo clearly exhausting and irritating him.

“And you didn’t think of telling me first about this?” Theo demanded, his voice hardening.

“We didn’t tell Liam, what makes you think we’ll tell you?” Mason argued, his frustration boiling over.

“Because unlike Liam’s short temper, I work with the Sheriff.”

“Last I checked you’re working with the Sheriff under close inspection, which is a nicer way to say that nobody trusts you. How sure are we that you wouldn’t wrap Liam up in a nice pretty box and ship him to the hunters?”

Theo’s jaw hardened, his composure cracking. “I already did a lot of shit saving his ass—”

“Oh yeah? Because it benefited you,” Mason spat the words back, recalling the past with bitter accuracy. “Liam had told me the whole thing when you two were stuck together against the Ghost Riders.”

Theo’s jaw snapped shut, because that’s true. He said those things; he’ll throw Liam under the bus, run the other way if he got caught, leave him for dead, use him as fucking bait, because wouldn’t that be what Theo Raeken would do? That’s what he would do but hadn’t done, lying had always been his great asset.

Theo swallowed down a lump in his throat and pretended that the words didn’t bother him. It shouldn’t because it’s real. “And now what?” He challenged, refocusing. “You think your human self and your disappearing boyfriend will somehow solve the problem?”

”We had a plan,” Corey defended, sounding less determined than his boyfriend.

“Is getting lost part of it?” The chimera mocked.

“If you don’t plan on being helpful, just shut up. I don’t understand how Liam tolerates you.” Mason sniped, shaking his head.

“I tolerate Liam; he’s been the thorn in my side since I came back from hell.” Theo corrected. “Keep your facts straight, Hewit, I thought you’re smart?”

“You died?” Alec asked stupidly beside him. It was to this second Theo remembered he brought the guy.

“Unfortunately, no, but at least I know where I’ll go once I tip the bucket,” he replied dryly, keenly aware of Tara’s presence still lingering, blurry, at the corner of his vision.

“Can we not discuss this right now?” Mason interrupted irritably, hands flailing for emphasis before glaring at Theo. “You’ve been on the opposing side before—”

“I was great at it,” Theo smirked just to piss him off.

“—any idea why they want Liam? Best friend or not, I don’t think Liam has any skill that could benefit the hunters.” Mason continued, his face pinched, making the act of asking Theo for advice look like a profound, painful degradation.

Theo pocketed his hands and pondered the data, taking one reference after another. It didn't take long for an assumption to solidify. He couldn't claim certainty, but if there was anything he trusted, it was his brain—even if he was still seeing his dead sister a few feet behind him. “Liam’s for leverage,” Theo announced, informing the whole group.

Mason stared at him, not fully buying the idea, “Oh yeah? And you came up with that conclusion, why?” He challenged.

“Just an assumption,” Theo corrected smoothly, “If McCall dies, who do you think will be next in line?” He asked the whole group at large. No one answered because the reality was obvious. “Scott’s already experienced; he fought the Anuk-Ite blind. Liam on the other hand, still can’t drive his family’s SUV and faints from the sight of a big needle.”

Mason rolled his eyes, but his rigid body language betrayed no disagreement. “Okay, but why Liam? It could be anyone of us.”

“Because, if you haven’t noticed it yet, Liam’s Scott’s only real bitten beta right now. Hayden had fuck off to nowhere before the war even started, which was honestly a smart choice. And let’s be real: if Liam’s taken and held for ransom where Scott is asked to leave Beacon Hills, what do you think your golden boy would do?”

The silence that stretched between them was telling.

”Exactly,” Theo said, rubbing his eyes hard. Frustration was coming in full force, the idea of Liam being the centerpiece of this massive problem giving him a crushing migraine. It’s like all he’s doing was barely chipping off the edge with how colossal this shit was. “I did not fucking signed up for this.” He muttered irritably.

”Okay, listen,” Mason interrupted, clearly offended, “No one’s asking you to—”

A twig snapped.

“Shh, shut up,” Theo ordered, raising a hand and turning sideways, his gaze instantly fixed far off, concentrating on his hearing. Tara was still there, blurry at the edges, but the sound he heard couldn’t be her. It was real. Another batch of twigs snapped, followed by the heavy crush of dead leaves under compacted boots. “Get behind me,” he commanded. “NOW!” he yelled when all three teenagers just froze and stared.

Mason and Corey immediately scrambled up to stand directly behind his back. Theo hadn’t consciously registered the threat, but he found he had already moved to cover Alec.

“How long can you stay invisible?” Theo asked Corey, his eyes locked on the direction of the approaching footsteps.

Corey, still frantic, answered honestly. “Long enough, but not impressive.” The vague answer did not put Theo at ease.

“Have you ever tried to turn a whole group invisible?” Theo asked again. Corey gave him a pointed look that told Theo he had never, in fact, attempted to extend his power that far. “Today just might be your lucky day at trying that out.”

“I can’t do that.” Corey frantically hissed.

Theo counted: Two, three... no, four armed men were closing in on them. Running would only make them easy targets, especially since Theo was still unaware if any of the hunters were a sharpshooter. Mason was human, Alec was a barely functional beta at best; Theo’s only strategic asset was Corey’s ability, and even that came with a devastating disadvantage.

If Corey’s ability had been pushed over the line, well, Theo didn’t want to remember the smell of mercury, not now, not ever.

“Wait for my signal,” Theo said instead, ignoring Corey’s fearful exclamation. He turned towards Alec, whose eyes were already glowing yellow and whose breath was coming in short, panicked gasps. “Stay behind me. Do not get in the way; you are only a liability.”

A deep, familiar, grating voice cut through the woods as the four figures reached their small clearing. “Look what we have here,” the de facto leader exclaimed, sounding cheerful until his eyes swept over the group and the smirk was immediately wiped off his face. “You’re not Nolan.”

“Nor Liam,” another one stated, disappointed.

Theo smiled, a cold, predatory curve of his lips. “Just Theo,” he answered, staring at the familiar faces. “Elliot, Parker, nice to see you again. With two other expendables, I presume?”

“Theo,” Elliot greeted with a snide inflection, raising his weapon. His gun glinting under the afternoon sun was no doubt riddled with wolfsbane bullets. “The werewolf-coyote chimera. I remember you.”

Theo faked a surprised, impressed look. “Ah, so you’ve done your research? I feel flattered.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Mason hissed from behind him.

“Shut up, Hewit,” Theo muttered without looking back. They were outnumbered. Theo could perhaps have dealt with them on his own, but not easily, and not with three teenagers who could be immediate collateral damage. Mason was a smart guy; Theo would start judging him if he didn’t understand how utterly screwed their situation was. Mason was human—what was he going to do? Yell and try to climb a damn tree?

“Don’t feel too special; we just had a lot of time recently,” Elliot sneered, taking another slow step forward.

Theo clicked his tongue. “Bummer. You wouldn’t believe how much of an asset I can be,” he said, letting a hint of his old, dangerous bravado slip. He could feel a spike of fear from Mason and Corey, but Alec remained confused, staring at the hunters with wide eyes. Theo ignored it all.

Based on the slack way the other two hunters held their guns, they were amateurs—likely feeling godly just holding a rifle but didn't know how to use it other than to aim and shoot. Parker and Elliot, however, were seasoned veterans, two of the few surviving hunters from the war.

Parker took a decisive step forward. “You know,” he started, his voice lowered with a knowing look. “That could still be arranged. I know what you did with Schrader. And even before that.”

Theo recalled the man who tortured him with electricity down in the sewers, it wasn’t a pleasant memory. “Not really one of my finest works, but I was down in the sewers. Who am I if I’m not resourceful?” he said remembering how he killed the guy with his own torture device, it didn’t make him feel good, but it didn’t make him feel bad either. “Sadly, I don’t do double bookings. You see I made this deal with McCall recently, and I’m not really good at being a double agent.”

“You’re not officially part of the McCall pack,” Parker reminded him, pushing the advantage. “We could give you full immunity.”

Theo tapped his chin, feigning serious consideration. “Now that’s actually a nice offer.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Mason hissed in disbelief.

“Theo?” Alec asked, his voice wavering.

Theo ignored them both. “I know what you’re doing here,” he said, pocketing his hands to fake ease. “Your research sure paid off.”

It was a decent move at best—trying to win over the willing murderer who betrayed the McCall pack for self-gain. The offer was genuinely appealing; his old self would have accepted in a matter of a second right before ditching them.

“It’s just not enough.”

Switching sides now? That would be a universal joke.

“I’ve had enough,” Elliot snapped, his patience finally broken by the prolonged verbal sparring. “Tamora said to bring that beta alive. She didn’t say anything about you four.” Then he raised his gun and aimed.

“Corey!” Theo yelled and a hand wrapped around his chest as they disappeared from view.

“Fuck!” Elliot screamed, his voice strained and raw. “Search around! Find those motherfuckers! They can’t be that far off!” he ordered harshly as the hunters dispersed in a frantic, confused circle.

“I can’t hold much long,” Corey hissed directly beside Theo’s ear, his voice strained from immediate, group-wide exertion.

Theo maneuvered the group behind a thick, sheltering oak tree. The chameleon was quick to let go, gasping and swaying, but he remained standing. Theo counted that small effort as a massive win.

“Okay, listen closely,” Theo ordered, his tone cold steel, ignoring the four heartbeats circling the area. “You and you—” he pointed at Mason and Alec. “Are nothing but dead weight. Either find yourself useful or stay completely out of the way if you want to keep your head. You—” he pointed at Corey. “Get a grip. You’re shit at the front lines, so you better be great at not just hiding your ass, but everyone’s. I’m going to need your help both for attacking and defending.”

“You’re going to kill them,” Mason stated, his eyes wide. It wasn't a question, but a terrified realization. Alec stared up at the older chimera, dread filling his face.

Theo smiled, a flash of pure menace. “You better cover his eyes when I do,” he told Mason, referring to Alec.

Theo didn't wait for anyone’s reply. The adrenaline in his veins was already mixing with the cold dread of Tara's lingering presence. Theo shoved the chameleon hard toward Mason and Alec. “You're the eyes. Get them out of the sightline. Now!" He didn't need to check if they obeyed; his ears were fixed solely on the frantic rhythm of a pair of boots closing in.

He moved first, charging from the shelter of the tree with a raw, guttural snarl. He stayed low and fast, an intentional blur designed to draw the immediate attention and the first shots.

Elliot was ready. A blinding flash of muzzle fire ripped through the air, followed by a deafening CRACK! Theo felt the sharp, immediate hit of a bullet searing across his right bicep. It wasn't a takedown, he was lucky enough for that, but the wolfsbane was instantaneous, a wave of icy metallic cold that promised to numb him from the inside out.

Just a scratch, he lied to himself.

Theo roared, already a blur as he crashed into one of the unnamed amateurs. He was pure, focused destruction. Claws, still stained from the Preserve's damp earth, raked across the hunter's Kevlar vest, the synthetic fibers tearing like tissue paper. Before the man could even grunt, Theo's elbow pistoned, a brutal hammer blow into the hunter's jaw. The sickening CRUNCH of bone silenced the man's surprised yelp, sending him spinning to the ground, dead.

“COREY!” he yelled, stretching his hand out.

The air around Theo warped, distorting, shimmering, and then—poof—he was gone. A phantom.

“Where is he?! Where’s the son of a bitch!” Parker's voice was a wild, frantic yell, echoing through the trees, gun pointing frantically everywhere.

Theo reappeared five feet away, a ghost in the peripheral vision, slamming into the concussed amateur. He drove the back of the hunter's head against a sharp, exposed tree root. The sickening thud was final. Two dead, two more.

He didn't pause for a breath; his eyes snapped to Corey, who was swaying like a reed, clutching his temples, a faint silver sheen coating his straining skin.

“Take a deep breath and keep your head,” Theo hissed, his own strength wavering. “We’re not yet done, get your shit together, Bryant.” Theo looked up and saw Elliot, who was calmly, deliberately, calculating his next shot.

Instinctually, Theo pulled the chameleon out of the way.

BANG!

The second bullet struck Theo squarely in the left shoulder. The impact slamming his body sideways, sending him skidding into the rough bark of a dead tree. This time, the pain was a searing, white-hot fire that consumed his entire upper body. His strength evaporated. His vision tunneled into a red-and-black haze, the Preserve blurring into a meaningless smear of greens and browns, but his mind, a cold, diamond-hard shard, locked onto his target: Parker.

He dropped to one knee, a shaky hand clutching the wound, the pain making his teeth grind. Parker saw his opening, a flash of predatory glee in his eyes as he charged, a hunting knife glinting wickedly.

“You really think a knife's going to work, Parker? I'm insulted!” Theo spat, the words a strained rasp. He pushed off the tree, the effort sending spears of agony through his chest, barely dodging the blade meant for his head. He drove the last vestiges of his power into his right hand, thrusting his claws straight and deep into Parker's throat. The older hunter gurgled, a hideous, wet sound, and crumpled to the ground, blood bubbling from his mouth.

Three dead, one left.

Elliot, seeing his entire team obliterated in a few brutal seconds, didn't break. He didn't panic. He raised his gun, calmly, steadily, toward the barely visible cluster of teenagers.

"Corey! One more time—" Theo's words dissolved into a choked gasp of pain. “ONE MORE!”

Corey, driven by sheer, desperate terror and Mason's silent, frantic energy, focused his final, explosive effort. The world flickered violently, colors streaking like a bad TV reception. Theo vanished, reappearing directly in front of Elliot, his body an immobile shield, a living puppet against the hunter's raised weapon.

BANG!

The third wolfsbane bullet tore through Theo’s abdomen. The shock was paralyzing, ripping a silent, agonizing gasp from his lungs. He could only cling to Elliot, his hands locking around the hunter's neck, his claws burying deep into the man’s cartilage, seeking the spine.

“You came here for the Alpha’s explosive beta, but only had four guys?” Theo forced out, the words ragged but colder than ice, his face inches from Elliot’s, his breath a foul, coppery mix of blood and wolfsbane. “Monroe cutting corners, Elliot? Or is your little headquarters up north too much for your budget?”

Elliot thrashed, but Theo's grip was unbreakable, fueled by a primal fury. “Who said anything about headquarters?” the hunter gasped, clawing desperately at Theo's arm.

Theo stared at the hunter, mind going a mile per second. If the Warehouse up north wasn’t their headquarters then it must be of a different sort of important use. Either a form of storage or a crucial line to the main headquarters. Skimming through his knowledge of files, it wouldn’t be far off that it’s both. It wasn't the main brain; it was just an ear, a mouth. It’s basically a fucking phoneline.

And Liam was the leverage they needed to operate within the territory.

Theo's grip finally failed, not from his will, but from the systemic failure of his poisoned body. Elliot took this chance to smash his head against the chimera, causing Theo to fall backwards, body burning in pain with a heavy thud on the ground.

Elliot scrambled for his gun for his gun but Mason had already gotten hold of it. There was a stand off in the middle of the preserve, three dead bodies littered on the ground as the only living lone hunter weighed out his chances, battered and bruised, barely standing on his two feet.

“Run,” Mason said. Elliot didn’t need to be told twice.

Theo hadn't found Monroe's fortress, but the warehouse was indeed the crucial staging point and communication link for the local operation. They weren't fighting the main army, but cutting the head off the local cell was still necessary.

He needed to destroy that whole place.

“Oh my god, Corey!” Mason yelled, dropping the gun and scrambling towards his boyfriend, who had finally collapsed. If Theo wasn't brimming in pain, he might have told the guy how stupid he was to drop the only working weapon.

“Okay, what now? Are we safe? Are—are we okay?” Alec stammered, dropping beside Theo and immediately noticing the black veins forming on his skin, the beta gagged. “Oh my god what is that?” He screeched.

“Wolfsbane, haven’t really reached that part of the lesson yet,” Theo said, clutching at his side.

“Why aren’t you healing? WHY ISN’T HE HEALING?!” Alec, yet again, screeched at the top of his lungs. Theo can’t help but wince at the noise.

“Because I’m in pain you ass, yelling won’t—won’t do a damn thing,” Theo snapped, before another wave of pain ran through his body. He bit back a shout and dug his nails deeper into his skin. He could see Tara looming at the corner of his vision.

“What can I do?” Alec asked, frantic.

You can’t. “Haven’t taught you how to take away pain yet,” Theo said instead.

“Take away pain,” Alec parroted. “Okay, I can do that, I can do that,” he repeated, willing himself. Grabbing Theo’s wrist, he stared at the black-lined skin. “How do I do that?” He asked immediately, turning to Mason and Corey.

“Y-you need to care.” Mason answered, staring at Theo with a manic look, arms wrapped around Corey who was fortunately still awake, just majorly exhausted, taking in one deep breath after another.

“I care. I care, okay? I care!” Alec exclaimed, repeating the words over and over again as if that would change a thing.

Theo had half a mind of just wanting to pass out. He made plans with McCall today. It wouldn’t take long before the Sheriff would track him because of his absent presence. Although the question if he’ll still be alive by then was something he doesn’t know.

Just then, the numbing pain in his body slowly, shockingly lessened. Surprised, Theo stared down at his wrist to see black veins warping onto Alec’s own arm as the kid continued to repeat that he cared.

Theo couldn’t help but stare.

Breathing hard, Alec looked up and stared at him, “Did that work?”

Theo managed a genuine, albeit strained, smile. “Impressive. You seem to work better under duress.” He said. Still flat on his back, Theo managed to point his good arm towards the direction of his car. “I can’t walk, you’ll have to carry me,” Theo ordered.

Alec, overwhelmed but resolute, looped Theo's heavy, toxified arm over his own shoulder, grunting with the effort as he began to drag the chimera through the trees. Mason followed, supporting the heavy weight of Corey.

The drag was pure agony, each bump and root sending fresh waves of fire through Theo's body, but he refused to pass out. Alec siphoning his pain, albeit a little clumsy about it, had helped him drastically, grounding Theo enough to move but aware that his body was not at its best condition. When they finally reached his truck, Alec fumbled frantically with the keys.

Theo groaned out in pain and frustration. “Trunk," Theo forced out, his teeth clenched against a rising wave of nausea. "On the right side. There's a lighter and wolfsbane."

Mason looked up, his face pale with incomprehension. "Why do you have wolfsbane in your car?" He asked, sounding almost accusatory.

“Planning to use it on Alec when he pissed me off,” he joked that earned an alarmed look from everyone. “You guys really should stop being this gullible, it’s getting stupid.”

“I could still leave you for dead, Theo.” Mason threatened, his voice shaking as he placed his boyfriend on the passenger’s seat.

Alec guffawed, “Dude, he saved our lives,” he exclaimed.

Theo stared at the beta, a warm feeling blooming on his chest. It was confusing if that was his own blood or if it was something else emotional. “Naivety is such a bliss sometimes. I’ll keep you,” he commented. Alec made a face in complete confusion.

“We need to burn the wolfsbane, he’s starting to talk nonsense,” Mason muttered, yanking out Theo’s wolfsbane supply and eyeing the sparse contents, “These aren’t enough.” He said, a tone of dread in his voice.

“Burn it out of me,” Theo said, deadpanned. “Give me something to bite on.”

“Holy fuck,” was Alec’s last, horrified word before everything turned into chaos.

---

It was quiet.

Theo was driving, but the atmosphere in the truck was heavier than the silence. In the passenger seat, Corey was working on a large burger and a bright red slurpee, a desperate, high-calorie attempt to return some energy. It was working; some color had returned to his face, though he still moved with a tired fragility.

The car ride was still suffocatingly quiet.

Theo’s body was a tight, throbbing pain; the wolfsbane was (almost?) gone, but his wounds hadn't fully closed. His skin and clothes were heavily matted with Preserve dirt and dried blood, leaving sticky, crimson fingerprints on the steering wheel. The sun was close to setting, casting long, bruised shadows through the trees, and the persistent, unacknowledged silence was driving Theo up the wall.

“You know, I can drive.” Mason offered the fifth time since the car started.

“No one’s driving my truck,” Theo snapped, the command sharp and instant. “No one’s driving my truck,” he repeated, lower this time, the words sounding more like a desperate attempt to stabilize himself.

It’s too fucking quiet again.

A sudden ding startled almost everyone, except Theo who had been asking for a noise. Mason quickly snatched his phone, unlocked the screen, and read the contents. “Liam’s wondering where we are,” he announced. “He’s at Scott’s now, and he’s still pissed that Theo ditched him.”

“I didn’t ditch him,” Theo corrected.

“He used the word ditch,” Mason argued.

“I used the word busy, slap a dictionary on him, will you?”

Mason, Corey, and Alec’s appearance were somewhat decent—a little dirt here and there that could be easily covered by a story of staying too long in the preserve. Theo, on the other hand, was a liability; his blood-soaked clothes and unhealed wounds were an immediate cause for concern. He can’t pick Liam up and not give a decent lie once the beta sees his state, especially when their heartbeat deal was very much applicable for this scenario.

Lying wasn’t an option when it comes to his appearance. He could, however, avoid the confrontation entirely.

Theo had masterfully manipulated the group to shut the hell up about the earlier events and let him handle it with Scott after the stupid barbecue cook out. He’d been working on this case for months, if there’s anyone who has the right to drop the news on the pack, it’s him. And he rather preferred it to happen when everyone had finished enjoying the night.

The plan was simple: pretend Alec had trouble with today’s training— validated by Theo’s earlier text to the Sheriff asking for the day off. Mason and Corey’s sudden visitation on the new beta’s training was out of simple curiosity since they had been vocal of wanting to see the new pack member. Then he’ll drop all three at the McCall’s and drive back to the house to clean himself up before returning.

If Theo played his cards right, he didn’t have to ruin the damn barbecue. He would just need to pick up something on the way, perhaps dessert, since he’d broken his promise to help Melissa cook.

“Remember, you tell—” Theo started, his voice flat.

“No one,” Corey finished instantly, before taking a loud slurp on his drink.

“If asked about where you—” Theo continued.

“We visited the preserve, exact words,” Mason answered, reciting the line.

“Then you—” Theo prompted.

“Avoid the topic and just eat, we get it, we knoooow,” Alec groaned from the back, his voice thick with annoyance.

Theo’s eyes narrowed, glaring at the beta through the rearview mirror. “I don’t think you understand that when I said you can’t lie to a room full of supernaturals, you can’t lie. Don’t risk it.”

“We’ll avoid it, so shut up,” Mason snapped, before eyeing the chimera with newfound scrutiny. “Why can’t we just tell them what happened? Three dead hunters, we can’t hold this.”

Theo pressed his lips together, the sudden honesty surprising him. “Liam’s been a bitch about this barbecue thing ever since I told him I’d be going,” he admitted, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t want to ruin the night. I’ll do that right after.”

Mason gave him a calculating look, a look that told Theo he was trying to get a read on him, wanting to know whether that was a lie or something genuine. Three hunters were dead, Elliot was badly bruised, they can have this night before laying the bad news. Even at least for a few hours, he still planned on having that talk with McCall, after everything’s been over and done, but just, give him a few hours. It might be an awkward and suffocating few hours, but that’s better than an immediate bad news. Besides, Theo wasn't planning on prolonging to hide the issue.

“I’m dropping you kids a block away from Scott’s,” Theo announced. “I’m not risking it when I look like this. Wouldn’t want Malia beating the shit out of me.”

“You’re nineteen, you’re just as barely a kid as the rest of us,” Mason snapped, annoyed by the nickname. “And she wouldn’t have to punch you if she knew what happened.”

“Why are you so fucking dead set on bitching about it, Hewit? You barely know anything,” the chimera snapped, reminding the human that his knowledge of what had transpired a few hours ago were only bits and pieces.

“Exactly, I barely know anything, and you’re withholding the whole context,” Mason argued, his frustration aimed at Theo's ingrained secrecy.

“I’ve withheld bigger things to your pack, this is barely a sweat for me,” Theo said, somehow feeling the latter being a blatant lie. He was used to the deception. But this time, as he stared out the windshield, he had a dark, quiet realization: this was the first time that his elaborate, dangerous secrecy had nothing to benefit him.

“That’s not my point and you know it!”

“And I’m ignoring it because I already told you mine, and we’re going with that.” Theo exclaimed, voice loud and final. “So shut up and eat your fucking burger.” Theo had the courtesy to buy the three something to eat—Corey getting the most for obvious reasons. It was an awful drive thru experience.

He could feel Mason glaring daggers at him from the backseat. Alec, sensing the renewed hostility, hesitantly offered the wrapped burger that was supposedly for Mason. It was like watching a frail boy giving a sacrifice to the beast. The irony would have made Theo scoff if the situation was any different.

Theo stopped the car and dropped them off a little farther away than what was originally discussed. Corey might not be a werewolf, but he had a healing factor; a little walk won't hurt any of them. “If Liam asks,”—which the Beta would, no doubt—“Tell him I decided to clean up at the house.”

“He’ll think you’re ditching. Ever thought about that?” Mason deadpanned.

“Then let him think that. I don’t give a fuck,” Theo answered, and he drove away, leaving all three teenagers standing on the curb like lost ducklings.

It was a few minutes down the road when Theo felt his phone ringing. He let it reach voicemail twice before the text messages came, and it came in hard. Theo’s a nasty person, a killer, an ex-sociopath (debatable), but he’s not a lousy driver. He avoided looking at his phone because the more the messages came, the more it was harder to ignore it. Pissed, he threw the device into the back seat and let it ding for all eternity.

Liam can be pissed until his battery runs dry; Theo’s not showing up like this.

When Theo reached the Geyer-Dunbar house, he took in a deep breath first. He probed his wounds; the bullets were still lodged deep inside his flesh, a constant, dull throb while he drove. There were no signs of wolfsbane poisoning—Mason had terrifyingly burned the toxins out, Theo had a small feeling the guy somehow enjoyed making him feel pain—but the wounds were refusing to close, which was strategically a good thing. It would be a pain to reopen them just to dig out the nasty bullets.

Theo got off his truck and was about to slot his key in the front door when it opened on its own, which wouldn’t make any sense because no matter how real Tara looked, ghosts aren’t real. He looked up to see Dr. Geyer standing right in front of him, an expression of shocked disbelief frozen on his face as he slowly took in Theo’s blood-soaked appearance.

“Hi,” Theo said weakly, his hand still hovering midair, keys dangling. His brain was blanking; his knowledge base told him both of Liam’s parents should still be out at work at this hour.

“Hospital,” the older man said, his voice clipped, firm, and entirely professional. “Now.”

Theo immediately raised both hands in a universal gesture of surrender, preventing Liam’s stepfather from advancing. “No, wait, I’m fine,” he insisted, a statement immediately rendered unbelievable by Dr. Geyer’s pointed stare. “No, really, I’m fine.” he pressed on.

“Are you telling me those aren’t your blood?” He questioned, eyes fixed on the chimera’s abdomen.

Theo hesitated, surprised by the question. He’d never dealt with anyone questioning his physical state before. He could look like he lost a lung and no one would ask if he was missing one, only ask what he’d done.

”We’re going to the hospital,” Dr. Geyer ordered with finality causing the chimera to groan in frustration.

Theo, honest to god, for the first time, flailed, “Okay listen. Yes, it’s my blood, yes I am wounded,” he confirmed, “But I don’t need to be in a hospital, believe me. If you really want to help me, we can do this in the kitchen with a pair of tweezers.”

Dr. Geyer only stared at him, a deep look of concern and shock directly pointing at him.

“Bullet wounds,” Theo explained. “It’s still there.”

“How…” Dr. Geyer started, his professional calm struggling against the sight before him. “How many are we looking at here?”

“Three,” Theo answered, “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

It looked exactly as bad as it sounds.

Theo was now shirtless, sitting heavily in a chair at the dining table, leaning his head against the backrest and staring at the ceiling. Dr. Geyer, having quickly retrieved his medical bag, was digging through Theo's left shoulder with focused, practiced ease. The bullet from Theo’s right bicep—a tiny, bloodied piece of warped metal—shone tauntingly on the table next to a bowl of disinfectant. It hurt, of course it did, but Theo had been cut open and stitched back together more times than he could count. Pain was a familiar feeling, a constant companion.

“That’s the second one,” Dr. Geyer announced, meeting Theo’s eyes as he placed the bullet alongside the first. His face held a library of unasked questions, but he decided against them for now. “Push your hips out; the bullet in your abdomen seems to be deeper.”

“Great,” Theo replied dryly, forcing a breath. He immediately felt the cold metal instrument push into the jagged wound. He swallowed down a raw groan and clamped his jaw shut to refrain from biting his arm. His stomach spasmed violently as the older man dug deeper and deeper. Theo could feel a fresh wave of warm blood dripping down his skin.

“I did suggest you down a shot first,” Dr. Geyer reminded him quietly when the chimera let out an uncontrolled, choked gasp, his hands balling into fists tight enough to break skin.

“Wouldn’t work,” Theo breathed out, the words strained and sharp.

Dr. Geyer didn’t ask for an elaboration.

The cold metal scraped against bone once more. Mr. Geyer ignored Theo’s tight gasp, his concentration absolute. There was a sound—a soft, wet pop—and the pressure deep in Theo’s abdomen immediately ceased.

“Got it,” Dr. Geyer muttered, his voice tense but relieved. He pulled the instrument back, and the final, deepest bullet slid free, slick with blood. He dropped it with a metallic clink onto the dining table, where it lay beside the other two—a gruesome, metallic trinity. “We’ll still need to stitch those up.”

”I’m good,” Theo replied, trying to push the words past his lips.

Theo didn't move. He lay limp against the chair back, every muscle in his body twitching with residual pain. The relief was immediate but quickly overshadowed by the sudden, massive systemic drain as his body finally, belatedly, registered the trauma. He felt the cold pressure of the wolfsbane's absence, and the full, crushing weight of exhaustion.

Dr. Geyer only sat there, quietly, and Theo braced himself from the impending question.

“I’m a Doctor, Theo,” Dr. Geyer said, his voice quiet but commanding, finally breaking the professional silence. “I know what a gunshot wound looks like. I also know that what I just pulled out of you should have killed a person, and you were sitting up talking about tweezers.”

Theo turned his head to stare at the man before him, but said nothing. It wasn’t a question; it was a simple, factual observation.

Dr. Geyer only inspected Theo’s abdomen shortly before letting out a hum of approval, “Your healing’s kicking in. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

The chimera stared.

This time, Theo didn’t bother to lie, “You know.” It wasn’t a question nor was it an accusation, it was a statement.

“I’m not dumb, I have a doctorate for a reason,” Mr. Geyer replied, grabbing his medical bag and rummaging through it. “Since you don’t want to be stitched up, at least cover it. Wouldn’t want you bleeding out.”

Theo didn’t stop the older man; he had been planning on burning his wounds closed, so the offer of proper bandaging was very much appreciated. The silence that followed while Dr. Geyer worked was dreadful. Theo knew it was the kind of charged stillness that precedes a necessary confrontation later on. He already had this talk with Jenna last night, he wasn’t looking forward to another one just the day after.

The quiet was mildly suffocating. But it oddly didn’t feel like it was the crushing kind. It was odd, Theo doesn’t know what to call it.

“I was actually waiting to talk to you tonight,” Dr. Geyer started, his voice casual as he applied the gauze on Theo’s abdomen. “While you sleep on the door of my son’s room. Didn’t expect you’d serve yourself on a silver platter, although littered with bullets.”

Theo closed his eyes and exhaled defeatedly, somehow expecting this outcome already, “Jenna told you.” It still wasn’t a question.

“I’m her husband,” the older man simply stated, the short response serving as enough explanation. “She didn’t tell me everything though.”

“I barely told her anything, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then she told me even less,” Dr. Geyer pressed. “I was surprised you called her ‘Jenna’ this morning while Liam was honking your car,” he explained, reminding Theo of the mundane event this morning. Liam impatiently already inside Theo’s truck while the chimera thanks Jenna for the breakfast. He didn’t know Dr. Geyer was listening. “You might want to explain something to me?”

Theo groaned, this time not from pain. Of course Jenna told Dr. Geyer that; she hadn’t dropped the subject even though Theo had told her multiple times that there was absolutely nothing between him and Liam. “Liam and I aren’t like that,” Theo insisted.

When Dr. Geyer paused, sat up and gave Theo a pointed look, the chimera realized he might’ve been the one to jump on the wrong conclusion this time. “That’s not what I was asking… Should I be concerned?”

Theo cursed internally, “No, no, I just… Jenna got this idea where Liam and I… Well, we’re not. But she won’t drop it, so I thought you—… Anyway, It’s because—”

“You were sleeping against Liam's bedroom door. I know.” Dr. Geyer interrupted calmly, resuming his work on Theo’s abdomen. “I would’ve jumped to the same conclusion if I didn’t already know stuff.”

Theo stared at the ceiling and swallowed, “How much do you know?”

“I’d say not much,” Dr. Geyer answered with a hum, finishing the dressing before moving onto Theo’s shoulder. “I just know last year, at the hospital, nurse McCall tried to tell me something, but… there was a lot of work to be done. I just know there are people with guns, and there are people who are being shot at with those guns.” He then eyed Theo, his gaze firm and hard. “Which one are you?”

Theo stared back, remembering his messy attempt at shooting Malia, “I don’t even know how to hold a gun.” He knew it was literal, but it held implications that resonated with his life. Theo doesn’t know how to hold a weapon because he was the weapon, the Doctors being his wielder. But now, he was just a discarded killing device that doesn’t know how to stop being one.

It’s somehow a funny joke, how he had this whole plan of killing Liam as a step on his way, built it for years just to gain power. But now, even thinking about putting a graze on his skin was an idea he would never touch. Funny how time can change a monster, but never make it human enough.

“Give me your arm,” David ordered, indicating Theo's last unwrapped injury. The chimera complied, rotating his body to give the older man better access. “I’m going to ask again. You might want to explain something to me?”

“Look, Dr. Geyer—”

“David,” Dr. Geyer—David—interrupted, his tone even but leaving no room for argument. “I’m currently dressing your bullet wounds. Jenna sat with you in a hallway and you’re still not calling me by my first name.”

Theo suppressed a humorless laugh at the ridiculous comparison. “Well Jenna was very adamant for months.”

“Just call me David,” David said, almost already tired. “Or I’ll call the Sheriff and inform him about this.” he threatened, indicating Theo's multiple wounds.

The threat landed, wiping the smirk right off Theo's face. “Don’t, please. He’ll somehow find some dumb excuse to tighten my already ridiculously strict work routine.”

“Maybe it’s for a good reason.”

“David,” the name finally came out, flat and deadpan, yet imbued with a sharp, involuntary plea.

David offered a slight, triumphant smile and patted Theo’s final covered wound, leaning back to survey his handiwork before meeting the chimera's gaze, waiting.

“Look, whatever you want to know, I can’t tell you,” Theo said, a wave of unfamiliar guilt washing over him. It felt stupid to feel bad after the man had just finished helping him. “I’m not the one who should.” Theo stared down at his hands, where the dark, dried blood still clung to the edge of his nails, a visceral reminder of what transpired earlier. “I’m also not a nice person. Not because I’m troubled or whatever bullshit story Liam came up with.”

He finally looked up, his eyes hard and challenging. “If you knew what I’ve done, what I could still do, you wouldn’t want me living here.”

David stared back, but his face was perfectly controlled. His heartbeat was loud, steady, and showed no indication of fear. “Liam did tell me you’re a bit of a huge martyr.”

Theo scoffed. “Your son should really start minding his own business,” he said, without heat, but the underlying resentment toward Liam’s misplaced faith was clear.

“My son took a long time before he started calling me dad,” David said, his voice soft, almost reminiscent. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the dining table, the bloody bullets a mute testament between them. “He is loyal to a fault, but it’s a hard and long journey to earn that. Whatever you’ve done, or still could do, unless Liam tells me otherwise, my home is open for you.”

It was stupid. It was so fucking goddamn stupid. Liam’s reason for taking Theo into his home was purely out of transactional necessity; trust had nothing to do with it. Theo couldn't voice this without throwing Liam under the bus. “I just came into your house with literal blood on my hands,” he argues instead, gesturing towards their situation. The older man's refusal to acknowledge the danger felt like deliberate, terrifying ignorance.

David didn't flinch. He simply met Theo's gaze, his expression unreadable beneath the exhaustion. “Is that your goal here?” he asked, the question sharp and unexpected. “To be thrown away?”

Theo’s mouth clicked shut. Goal? His goal wasn’t to be thrown away; that wouldn’t help him or Liam in any form. But David’s reaction wasn’t right. He shouldn't be this calm, understanding adult who was still willing to take Theo in after seeing the undeniable evidence of violence. This wasn’t the expected reaction from a sane human, and that’s what’s jarring to him.

David took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, sensing that Theo had reached his limit for introspection. “You should take a shower. I’ll clean this up,” he said, placing a hand on the dining table to push himself up. He then paused, his eyes widening slightly as a mundane realization struck him. “Shouldn’t you be at Melissa’s?”

I’m not, for obvious reasons Theo swallowed hard. “I should be,” he answered instead, standing up and grabbing his discarded, bloodied shirt. “Was planning on bringing desserts as an apology.”

The conversation was far from over, and Theo knew it. The heavy silence in the kitchen promised a reckoning, but for now, a short breather seemed necessary.

Chapter Text

Theo was freshly bathed, the tight bandages beneath his clean clothes providing a constant reminder of his early actions. Carrying multiple tubs of ice cream he bought from a convenience store as he stood in front of the McCall house, wondering how in the hell he could ring the doorbell without looking stupid.

The noise from inside was loud, a warm, shifting wave of laughter and undecipherable voices. It was so soft and warm and completely unfamiliar that Theo was on the verge of turning around and leaving. Liam had already assumed he was ditching; it wouldn’t be a bad idea to make that assumption a reality. He’d been lying since the Doctors took him in; making a ghost of himself now was barely a big deal.

But the front door suddenly opened when Theo was mid-turn, the ice cream tubs clutched to his chest.

“I knew I smelled something nasty. Still not dead?” Malia said with mild disappointment, her eyes running over him before she sniffed the air sharply. Her bored expression vanished, replaced by a sudden, humored surprise. “Holy shit, you were close to it though.”

“Glad to know you still want me buried six feet under.” Theo commented dryly, shifting his weight against the constant throb beneath his shirt. Somehow feeling oddly off footed that his injuries were very easily detected.

Malia snorted, “God no, Liam’s already a bitch to deal with.” Theo said nothing to that. She eyed the tubs of ice cream on his hands, peaking at the labels. “What flavor?”

“Whatever’s available,” Theo answered, briefly remembering himself standing at the convenient store freezer—the cold air reminding Theo of his time in the sewers, the morgue, the hospital. He was quick to just take what he could see and bag them. “Is dinner over?”

Malia just shrugged, “Barely finished,” she answered, moving aside and tipping her chin as if to tell the chimera to get a move on. “Better get inside, before your boyfriend gets more annoying than he already is.”

Theo, who was already taking a step inside, froze completely. The tubs of ice cream were pressed into his chest. The word was one he had never used, nor had he ever mentally applied it to his connection with Liam. He turned slowly, giving Malia a stare that was more confused than irritated. “My what?”

The coyote shrugged, entirely oblivious to the immediate shock she caused the chimera, “It’s a matter of inevi-something. Whatever Lydia said.” She answered with a wave of a dismissive hand.

“Inevitability,” Theo corrected absentmindedly, his brain still processing the previous message uncharacteristically slow, but somehow managing to help the coyote find the right word.

Malia snapped her fingers at his face, as if Theo just answered the problem of the day, “Right, that one.” She said, before frowning. “Good thing you’re smart; it’s the only nice thing you have other than your face.”

Theo could only stare at her, his jaw slack. He willed himself to close his mouth, to form a scathing retort, but his brain refused to engage. The concept of ‘inevitability’ applied to his relationship with Liam, had rendered him completely, embarrassingly speechless.

“Theo,” someone called from inside—Melissa— before soft footsteps bounded towards the front door. That typical mother’s smile already plastered on her face, it was slowly wiped off after noticing Theo’s frozen expression. She pointedly stared at Malia. “What did you tell him?”

To her credit, Malia was genuinely clueless. “We were just talking.”

Melissa’s mouth clicked, “Honey, we’ve talked about this—”

“Oh Jesus Christ," Malia exclaimed, sounding miffed, “Even if I did say something inappropriate, this is Theo.”

Finally sobering up, Theo physically shook off the confusion. He straightened his spine and readjusted his hold on the layered tubs of ice cream, the chilling cold quickly numbing his fingers. “It’s nothing,” he immediately interfered, earning both women’s attention. “I brought ice cream, for being unable to help you with the cooking. Hopefully, there’s space in your freezer.”

“God, you're so fake,” Malia commented before turning around to leave with a huff of irritation.

Melissa, used to her antics, ignored the comment, “We have a cooler out back,” she suggested, pointing a thumb behind her. “We can use the extra space there.” She continued as she let Theo in. No one was in the living room, but the lights were on and there were random bags and things littered around the room, an obvious indication of the vast number of visitors. “Everyone’s out back, hopefully there’s still food left.”

“It’s fine, I’m not hungry,” Theo replied, an obvious lie. His body was consuming energy at a frantic rate to knit his tissues back together. But Melissa doesn't know that, he cleaned himself pretty well before heading here.

“Sure,” she replied as they headed towards the kitchen, agreeing but the tone of her voice said otherwise. Piles and piles of dishes were on the sink, yet the scenery didn't look messy, it oddly looked homey, something lived-in. Very different from the house he lived in with his fake parents and fake backstory.

“Put the tubs on the counter and let’s see how many we can fit here,” she ordered. Theo complied, setting the cold containers down. Melissa opened her fridge and started adjusting space in the freezer. “Which flavor is your favorite? So that we can hide it here first while you eat.” She asked without looking.

Despite Theo’s denial, she was clearly adamant about feeding him. He tried not to go against it. “I don’t have a preference,” Theo answered, seeing a tub of Rocky Road and grabbing it instinctively before handing it to Melissa. This was Liam’s favorite based on multiple observations. “You should hide this for Liam, though. Malia said he’s been annoying.”

“Anyone’s annoying to her,” she replied, grabbing the tub Theo offered. “Are you sure you don’t have anything you want hidden from everyone?”

“No, I’m fine. Never ate one to have a favorite; anything’s fine.” He replied off-handedly, rummaging through his bag and pulling out a ‘pistachio’ flavor. Theo frowned slightly at the odd, pale green hue before handing it to Melissa.

Who somehow didn’t take it from him.

Confused, Theo looked up to see her staring at him with a blank, assessing expression. “Melissa?”

“How old were you when you were taken again?” Melissa asked instead, a fake air of nonchalance hanging on her voice.

Theo frowned, shouldn’t she be already made aware of this? Scott’s mother was the most integrated parent in the McCall pack. It’s highly unlikely she didn’t know the most basic thing to know about Theo Raeken, the past antagonist. “Nine,” he found himself answering. “Why are you asking?”

Melissa ignored the question, her eyes fixed on the pistachio tub he was still holding before looking back up at the chimera. “And you never ate one even before that?”

Theo's frown deepened, the question confusing him entirely. What was her end goal here? “No,” he replied, “I was a sick kid, there’s a lot of things I can’t eat.” Or do, why do you think it was that easy for the Doctors to make me kill my sister? The dark thought was left unsaid, pushed back down where it belonged. Because nobody asked, and it doesn’t matter.

Melissa only kept on staring at him, her lips pressed together worryingly. She let out a small, quiet huff of realization, finally turning back to stare at the freezer. She reached out her hand, and Theo easily offered the pistachio-flavored tub.

Suddenly feeling off-kilter, Theo rocked back on his heels and waited for Melissa to ask for another tub. She meticulously adjusted and readjusted some frozen goods in the freezer before letting out a quiet huff. She turned to face Theo. “Did you buy cookies and cream?”

“I bought anything that’s available,” Theo replied, already reaching into the plastic bag. He located the requested flavor, pulled it out, and handed it over.

Melissa accepted it and gently nudged it into the remaining space in her freezer. “You might enjoy this,” she mumbled, the words easily audible in the quiet kitchen.

Theo frowned. It’s just frozen milk, what’s there to enjoy about it? He thought but hadn’t voiced out, her chemosignals told him there was a hint of sadness she was somehow feeling. Something that had Theo reeling in confusion, unable to understand where that suddenly came from. He wasn’t trying to make her feel bad, wasn’t lying through his mouth to warrant this reaction.

“I need to use the bathroom,” he said abruptly, suddenly feeling somehow irritable.

Theo didn’t wait for her reply, pivoting sharply and marching towards the bathroom, locking himself in and sitting on the toilet, backtracking their interaction. When Melissa had first invited him to the barbecue, it was a polite gesture, civil at best. Honest, but distanced.

This interaction wasn’t civil. This was pity, and it was directed towards him.

Theo leaned back and stared at the ceiling, feeling unusually out of sorts. It’s not everyday he felt off-footed in a situation he knew he would have dealt with easily if he was aiming for that reaction. But he wasn’t. And lately, things had been so overwhelming for him that even putting on a mask was exhausting. It was stupid, he’s a killer, a murderer, a manipulator, real emotions should be a walk in-the-park for him.

But it wasn’t.

It’s confusing. Everything had been so much easier when he felt no remorse, when every action was aimed solely at his goal. Right now, the goal had changed, and he was brimming with unwanted, unasked-for emotions he didn't know how to label.

Theo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pinching the sensitive skin on his wrist. He used that sharp sting to ground himself, a desperate, familiar tactic. It wasn’t an instant relief, but it did enough to quiet the noise. Theo tried not to think how someone could completely erase the uneasiness in him.

With a heavy huff, Theo sat up straight and checked his wounds, raising his shirt and carefully peeling at the edges of the dressing. The deep abdominal injury was already closed—his skin looked taut and pink. It was still sensitive, but if the deepest wound was already knitting, the ones on his arm and shoulder should be completely well by now.

Theo smoothed the dressing back down. He kept the bandages on even with all of his wounds healed; he couldn't just throw the bloodied gauze away in Melissa's trash. He stood up and froze, his senses locking onto a familiar, anxious rhythm: the unmistakable, fast heartbeat of Liam Dunbar.

He took a heavy breath and opened the door, Liam was right there, arms crossed over his chest, his jaw set in a furious line.

“You ditched me,” the beta stated, the accusation sharp.

“I said I was busy,” Theo replied dryly. “There’s a huge difference between the two.”

“You managed to give the other three a ride, but not me?” Liam continued to complain, voice pitching high with annoyance. “Me, who actually lives under the same roof as you.”

“And that suddenly makes you special?” Theo asked, pinching the bridge of his nose at Liam’s relentless whining. “It’s not like I decided to live with you because I wanted to.”

The beta gave him a flat look, “You’re telling me you like Mason more than me?”

”What makes you think I like anyone?” Theo challenged before letting out an irritated huff. It was unexpected that the itch to grab Liam’s hand and place it on his heart was suddenly at the back of his mind, Theo tried to push it deep down, wanting to ignore the pull. “Something just came up.” He added before sidestepping around the beta and marching towards the backdoor.

”That’s such a half-ass excuse,” Liam berated following closely.

“Look, just back off,” Theo snapped, whipping around and pushing Liam lightly on the chest. The younger boy stilled and gave him a stunned look, somehow unexpecting the sudden outlash. Theo gripped his fist, and exhaled slowly, “I know I said I’ll drive you, and I was planning on it. Something really just came up.”

Liam, sobering up instantly, narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the chimera. The questions piled up one after another behind his gaze, but wouldn’t ask. Theo could see the restraint, the blatant display of Liam refraining from being invasive again. And he didn’t know what to do with that knowledge, it has always been that way with the beta.

It’s frightening.

“Before you continue your bitch-fest,” Theo said with a tired sigh. “I really want to eat first.”

Liam blinked, the anxiety melting away as he remembered the mundane reality of the party. “Oh, right,” he said, his face softening. “C’mon, I saved you some brisket. We should hurry up; Malia’s been eyeing it for hours.”

“Any food’s fine,” Theo muttered.

”Yeah, but I helped make it.” Liam proudly informed him. Theo paused and eyed the beta, knowing full well how disastrous the boy was in the kitchen. “I watched it cook, I didn’t season it.” Liam quickly reassured, sounding slightly offended. Liam then grabbed Theo’s wrist—the same spot Theo had just pinched between his fingers to ground himself—and began dragging him out back.

Theo let him. He didn’t know why, he just knew he let it happen.

---

The brisket was surprisingly nice. Malia’s eyes, fixed intently on his plate from across the yard, made the experience somehow weirdly tense.

The house was packed, even Peter, who Theo knew had a reluctant, cynical alliance to the McCall pack, was somehow invited. The knowledge finally made sense why the invitation was extended to Theo; if Liam had started with ‘Even Peter’s there’, he would’ve at least thought twice before saying no.

It’s the thought that counts.

Nolan was huddled in a shaded corner, talking quietly to Alec, Mason and Corey. The other three had cleaned up and changed, wearing faded mismatched clothes from Scott’s old wardrobe. Feeling slightly anxious, Theo reflexively tuned in on their conversation and found out that Nolan’s phone had broken, probably from what happened earlier; the others were planning on pitching to buy a new one.

“I think Theo’s listening on us,” Mason commented a second later.

“Yep,” Theo replied shamelessly, just under his breath, sure that Corey and Alec could hear him perfectly. He took another bite of his brisket.

“He is,” Corey answered his boyfriend.

“Dude,” Mason said with obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Who you talking to?” Liam asked beside Theo, eating a rocky road ice cream out of a plastic cup in complete obliviousness. Reminding the chimera that he wasn’t alone.

Theo removed his attention from the huddled group, focusing on the explosive Beta sitting beside him. He felt confusedly torn between feeling glad that Liam was still so bad at managing his senses, or disappointed that it had been a year and the kid was still this oblivious. “Why are you still here?”

Liam gave him an utterly flat look, sucking on his spoon before chewing on the nuts and chocolate. “I’m keeping you company.”

Theo frowned, “I think I can find my own company that I actually prefer.”

The beta scoffed, a quick dismissive sound. “Please, you only tolerate me on a good day. And I’ve been living with you for a few months. I don’t think there’s anyone who you tolerate better than me.”

Theo chewed on his food slowly, suddenly not in a hurry to give a response. The beta took this hesitation as a win and smiled smugly at him. Theo only raised an eyebrow challengingly and swallowed. “I like Alec, cute kid.”

The reply was instantly followed by a loud, sputtering sound of water being spat out. Alec, who had been drinking something white—vanilla ice cream, from the looks of the spray—hunched over his knees, furiously coughing to normalize his breathing while Nolan quickly wiped melted ice cream from his own face.

Theo had only taught Alec to use his hearing senses once, and the kid was clearly already using it to invade people’s privacy. Theo didn’t know if he should be proud or not; at least the kid could use his skills when motivated.

“Alec?” Liam asked in disbelief, ignoring the commotion from behind. “The new beta, Alec?”

“Is there any other Alec we know?” Theo asked.

Liam frowned, “You said you hated your training sessions with him.”

“I said I don’t like that my time in the office had been cut short; I didn’t say anything about hating the training itself,” Theo corrected, the lie rolling off his tongue with practiced ease. He really had hated that additional responsibility; his goal was securing Liam’s safety, not teaching a stranger how to play fetch.

Theo had treated his time with Alec as something he just had to do, his interest being completely not in it.

Nothing had changed even after their little run in with the hunters, he’ll still curse and grumble while teaching Alec how to be a proper wolf (that Theo oddly can never be), but the kid doesn’t seem to be as annoying anymore.

Liam’s jaw hardened, “You’re lying,” he said, sounding pissed. Theo just gave him a challenging ‘try me’ look, which only fueled Liam's anger. “I spent months trying to be your friend and Alec managed to do that in a week? Are you shitting me?”

“Who says we’re friends?” Theo asked with a cold, snide remark.

When Liam flinched, Theo heard it—a painful, sudden skip of a heartbeat—and caught the quick, foul spike in his chemosignal. The Beta stared at him with a blank, stunned look, but his emotions were an open book that Theo could perfectly read. The smirk on the Chimera’s face was instantly wiped off.

Did Liam honestly think they were? Theo had a short, sharp moment of clarity, remembering Liam’s consistent, irritating attempts at connection: staying in his room, always trying to invade his personal bubble, crashing his training sessions. All those actions that Theo had simply let happen because he was a weak, weak man that couldn’t just say no.

“I’m kidding,” Theo immediately found himself correcting, as if the mere idea of telling Liam that he’s too fucking gullible to even think they’re friends had suddenly became something he would never hoped on saying, “Stop making that face, it’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid,” Liam grumbled, still sounding pissed. He leant back on his chair and scooped more of his ice cream, the tight frown never leaving his forehead.

Theo didn’t know how to deal with that, he hadn’t really thought that their relationship had somehow changed without him knowing. Hands suddenly clammy, Theo stood up, “I’ll go grab an ice cream,” he told the beta, a clear, poor attempt at an escape. He didn’t wait for a response and just headed straight towards the back door.

The muted noise from the backyard felt blissfully distant as he went inside. Theo silently stood by the door for a moment, letting the coolness of the kitchen wash over him. He turned and went straight for the fridge, pulling out the cookies and cream flavored ice cream—the one Melissa said he would like.

He silently scooped a tiny portion into a plastic cup, finishing it with just a few rapid bites. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, he focused entirely on the frozen dairy sliding down his throat, a dull, physical sensation to keep him from his racing thoughts.

Theo stared at the empty cup for a second too long, before promptly grabbing a bigger bowl and scooping more of its contents. He was about to eat the contents out from the tub itself when he realized he had left Liam on his own for an indecent enough of time, so he opted for scooping as much as he could when he heard two familiar heartbeats standing just outside the door.

“You planning to pee? Because Nolan’s using the restroom, he’s cleaning himself,” Mason informed Liam.

Theo stilled, holding his breath and half a tub of ice cream.

“No, Theo ditched me alone back there, was wondering if he really dipped out without any say-so,” Liam answered, the tired irritation evidently heard in his voice. “He’s still masking his chemosignals and all that shit, it’s hard keeping tabs on him. I already suck at reading people, he’s just being a jerk at this point.”

There was a sound of feet shuffling, as if Mason was adjusting his standing position, preparing to say something loaded. “You’re really giving this Theo thing a try.”

“Mason—” Liam started, the name drawn out, sounding as if the topic had been an issue of their discussion a little too much.

“Hey, man.” Mason interjected, backtracking, “This time I’m not asking you to switch an—”

“And I’m not gonna, this already works way better than any—”

“Lemme stop you there,” Mason interrupted, putting an immediate stop to Liam’s likely long tirade. “That’s not my intention this time, okay? Relax.”

A tense silence followed, where Theo knew Liam was leveling his best friend with a skeptical look. “Then what is it?” the Beta asked impatiently.

Mason took his time to reply, constructing his words better and hesitating about what he should and shouldn’t say, “You said people like Theo can change. How were you so sure back then?”

“I’m still sure.”

“That’s not the question, dude.”

“I…” A pause, then a heavy exhale, “He talks big, okay? He can say a lot of mean things and end up doing the exact opposite,” Liam said animatedly, almost similar when he’s talking about something he’s weirdly passionate about. “I already told you guys this.” He finished with a tired huff.

“You did,” Mason agreed sheepishly.

A beat of tense silence, “Why?” Liam asked, sounding almost aggressive. “You said you came across Theo training Alec, did something else happen?”

Mason’s heartrate picked up instantly, a sudden, frantic staccato rhythm. “Why are you suddenly being suspicious?"

“Why are you tense?” Liam asked again, his tone sharp. There was a short pause. “You’re hiding something aren’t you? I can read heartbeats better now, you know.”

“That’s not what Stiles said,” Mason deflected weakly. “You’re just being paranoid.”

“And you’re being secretive, dude,” Liam accused.

This was the part Theo finally cued himself in, opening the back door with a sharp thump, surprising the two teenagers. “What’s this, trouble in friendship paradise?”

Liam scowled, opening his mouth for a retort before noticing Theo holding the tub of ice cream, a spoon sticking out of it. The chimera only raised an eyebrow, as if daring him to make a comment about it, “What were you doing?” I thought you ditched me again, it wasn’t asked but Theo could read the question on his face clearly.

“I said I was going to grab ice cream,” Theo answered flatly, raising the tub for emphasis.

“For ten minutes?” Liam asked, incredulously.

Theo’s eyes narrowed, hitting back with a familiar weapon. “Are you my mother now? And here I thought we’re friends?”

Liam’s face went scarlet red from embarrassment. “Okay, fuck you,” he spat, pivoting sharply and marching toward the commotion where Stiles and Derek seemed to be having a heated argument about Scott’s angled jawline.

“You’re such a sneaky bastard, you know that?” Mason said the second he knew Liam was too preoccupied to listen in on their conversation.

“One of us should be,” Theo answered, staring at Liam’s far away figure before turning to stare at Mason, a frown already painted across his face. “I said to keep it to yourself, didn’t I?”

Mason scoffed and rolled his eyes, a familiar teenage gesture of annoyance. “We did,” he answered, gesturing loosely toward the loud backyard. “Look around you, nobody knows. Even Alec managed to keep his mouth shut.”

“Then what the hell was that about?” Theo hissed, irritated, the volume of the party suddenly too loud for his tense nerves.

Mason leveled him a stare, almost defiantly. As if the very idea of his current thoughts were something that was making him hesitate on something he had long made sure of. “How much did you hear?” He asked.

“Enough,” Theo replied shortly.

Mason bit his inner cheek, hesitation painting his face but he took a deep breath and powered through anyway. “What if Liam’s baseless faith in you wasn’t really baseless.” The boy said and it’s like a rug was pulled under Theo’s feet. Cold dread flowing through his veins. “Maybe we’re all stuck on the things you’ve done before but not the after.”

After hell, after being dragged down by his dead sister and getting his heart pulled out over and over and over—

“What, you think just because I saved you means I’m suddenly a changed person? I’ve done that before Mason,” Theo sneered, shutting Mason up instantly, “There’s three people dead. You didn’t think about that?” Theo asked, hand gripping the container tighter, reminding the younger boy of how much a weapon will always stay a weapon.

“Hunters,” Mason corrected, defiant. “There’s three hunters dead.”

Theo almost guffawed with the stupidity of his argument, “Don’t let your little righteous alpha hear that, or he’ll be sad,” The chimera mocked, watching Mason glare. “I get it if I’m talking to Liam, but you? Really? I thought you’re the smart one.”

“I am,” Mason replied, chin tilted high, refusing to back down.

Theo almost lost his line of thought, stunned by the confidence in Mason’s words; his heart beat was perfectly rhythmic, no lie was heard. Almost. “Stupidity isn’t supposed to be contagious," Theo spat, leaning in close. “Don’t forget that all I do is out of my own benefit. The three of you dying because of me won’t help me and my situation.”

“And you being dead would?” Mason argued, his voice a steady challenge.

“I wasn’t going to die,” Theo snapped, because he wasn’t—not when she’s still out there, not when there’s a target over Liam’s head. “A word of advice from someone who actually tried to kill your best friend once: The second you start to trust someone like me, that’s where you lose, that’s where everyone dies.”

They were lucky that Scott was basically god’s child, that even after Theo managed to kill him, his luck won over and survived everything. But not every win will forever be on luck, sooner or later one wrong decision and their pack could tip over.

Mason said nothing, but his pride made him retain his head held high, refusing to break eye contact. The air between them hummed with the force of their unspoken disagreement. “You know why it’s easier to think that you might’ve changed?” he asked, his voice low, almost sad.

Theo didn’t say anything; he just stared back, his eyes narrowed, silently egging the other boy on to complete the thought.

“Because for once,” Mason said, and the words landed with devastating finality, “you’re doing something that isn’t just for yourself.”

Theo’s jaw snapped shut. The cold dread flowed faster than before, reminding Theo full well that everyone in this damn house knew the reason why he stayed, why he agreed to strike a deal with Scott. All they needed was a name, a name that had Theo sleep peacefully at night even with the hard floor digging on his back.

“Enjoy your ice cream, Reaken,” Mason added with soft, stinging dismissiveness, turning and marching inside the house.

Theo was left alone, standing in the doorway, the large container of rapidly melting cookies and cream feeling heavy and meaningless in his hands

Not a second later, the back door opened again, and Nolan stepped out, wearing a fresh new batch of clothes from Scott’s mismatched old ones. He was staring forlornly at his phone, which sported a nasty spiderweb crack across the screen.

Theo didn't know if the kid was finally part of the McCall pack or just close friends with the remaining ones in high school. They stared at each other for a second too long, the silence awkward, yet completely devoid of the tension that had just radiated from the chimera.

“I’m not pitching in on that,” Theo stated flatly, gesturing toward the broken phone.

Nolan’s eyebrow furrowed, confused. His innocence was jarringly obvious; he hadn't heard the earlier conversation, and was just as clueless about Theo's state and what had transpired earlier in the Preserve just as the rest of the pack and their allies were supposed to be.

“—how many bodies?”

Theo’s head snapped up, the sound cutting through the party's noise like a razor wire. His attention immediately zeroed in on Sheriff Stilinski, who stood distant from the main crowd, holding a walkie-talkie to his face with a deep frown.

“—three.” The crackle of the response was low, but amplified enough by Theo's senses.

The Sheriff cursed tiredly under his breath, the sound heavy with resignation, before looking up. Instantly, their eyes locked across the crowded yard. Theo didn’t look away; he wasn’t planning to.

He couldn’t.

The Sheriff's expression remained closed off—the mask of professional duty—but it was enough for Theo to know that the long night had finally started. Oddly, he felt a flicker of weird relief.

Staring down at his tub of cookies and cream, now slightly melted along the sides, Theo deliberately sat down on a discarded foldable chair and took a slow, deliberate spoonful just as the Sheriff quietly ordered Parrish to head toward the Preserve. Nolan watched him, still confused as he stood awkwardly beside him.

That’s when everything started to spiral.

Stiles, the nosy bastard he always was, had heard the tail-end of his dad’s hushed conversation and was already firing rapid-fire questions. Questions that weren’t answered, but were definitely heard by everyone nearby—supernatural or human. The ambient noise of the party suddenly dimmed, replaced by a nervous, collective silence.

Theo could feel eyes landing on him from every direction. He ignored the weight of their scrutiny and just continued to eat, taking one spoonful after another of the melting ice cream as the attention intensified. With Malia’s stark revelation—that he smelled of injuries when he arrived at the house—the pieces of the puzzle clicked audibly into place for the rest of the pack.

Theo said nothing.

Hushed voices. Exchanged glances. Tentative footsteps closing in.

Theo took another, slow spoonful.

“Raeken,” The sheriff called, voice firm and authoritative. Theo looked up to see everyone staring at him, circling around his cornered area, informing the chimera how distant he really was and always will be at arms reach to the McCall pack. That his avoidance might just be his doing, but the distance of where he stood will always be far away from them.

The reminder was the clarity he needed.

“Do you know anything about the dead bodies in the Preserve?” The Sheriff finally asked, his eyes sharp and steady.

Theo took his sweet time sucking on his spoon before swallowing down, staring at the metallic utensil for a brief moment for staring back at the sheriff, Now this, he thought, this is familiar.

“Yeah,” he answered, leaning back slightly on the cheap foldable chair as if completely relaxed. “It took a while to wash their blood off my fingers.”

The silence that stretched within the vicinity amplified the amused cough Peter made, nobody paid him any attention.

When Theo didn’t try to elaborate, that’s when things went off script, if there was even a script to begin with. The second he noticed Alec’s eyes darting between him and the Sheriff, confusion warring with a new anger, Theo knew.

“That’s it?” The newest beta exclaimed, the outburst earning all eyes on him, “That’s your explanation?"

Theo shrugged, returning to his cold, practiced indifference. “I’m not explaining anything. I just answered the question.”

“What the hell are you doing?” Alec continued, voice bordering on raw disbelief and irritation. “I saw you— I saw—” he stammered, voice stuttering from relieving the memories from earlier. “You covered our asses and you almost— And now you’re painting yourself as this asshole? Why?!”

The practiced, indifferent expression slowly slipped off Theo’s face. He felt an unwelcome migraine bloom sharply at the back of his skull, the sound of the party, the heartbeats, and Alec’s voice suddenly overwhelming. “Alec, shut up.”

He made the kill, that was the issue, not his self sacrificing bullshit act.

”Wait, wait— Hold on,” Stiles exclaimed, flailing his hands around, trying to earn everyone’s attention before looking at Alec. “Do you know about this?”

The heated question made the beta shut up and look around the room, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the intense collective attention he’s suddenly getting. “I— uh…” he stammered, his heart rate kicking up violently as his eyes glowed a terrified, pulsating yellow.

“Because he was there,” Mason supplied, his voice cutting through Alec’s panic. He gave Theo a cold, heated glare, signaling that he was thoroughly fed up with keeping his mouth shut. “So was I, and so was Corey.” Mason paused, letting the information sink into the collective silence. “And before anyone says anything, they weren’t just simple civilians. They were hunters.”

“Wait, hunters?” Scott exclaimed, stepping forward, his voice heavy with immediate concern. “Why wasn’t I told about this?”

“Because Theo made us shut up about it,” Mason replied.

Theo’s eyebrows snapped up, “I made you shut up about it?” He parroted, pissed, “Should I remind you of your stupid stealth mission that you told no one about? Or are you all just blaming me for what happened after?”

“Hold on— Hold on,” Stiles interjected yet again, throwing his hands out in a commanding gesture to contain the immediate chaos. He looked directly at Mason. “Start from the very beginning.

And Mason did. His voice, strained but determined, recounted the recent events: the texts, the blackmails, the incessant messages directed at Nolan's phone, and the moment where Corey and Mason decided to go to the rendezvous point where Nolan was told to bring Liam. There was obvious resentment from Scott’s first bitten beta, pissed for being uninformed about the events, and was immediately reminded of his tendencies of recklessness especially if there’s a target on his head.

“What the hell did they want from me?” Liam demanded, an evident frown across his face. He was standing several feet away from Theo, too far, the distance feeling confusingly jarring, he didn’t know why.

Corey and Mason exchanged glances, “We don’t know,” the chameleon replied, “But Theo said it’s for leverage.”

Argent, standing near the Sheriff, crossed his arms over his chest, his expression skeptical. “Leverage?” he asked, the single word dripping with disbelief, a silent judgment on Theo’s reliability.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose and finally spoke up, dropping the empty tub of ice cream with a soft clunk onto the ground before standing. “I can feel your skepticism over here, Argent,” he snapped, earning himself a rightful glare from the older hunter. “Yes, leverage.”

He addressed everyone in the room, “I’ve been tracking Monroe’s activities for the past few months, based on what we all agreed. A few days ago, I pinpointed one of their headquarters but apparently the law states that if I don’t have enough valid proof, getting a warrant to ransack a private area will take a while.”

“So you went there on your own, again?” The Sheriff accused, his disappointment and frustration audible. It was a familiar expression that Theo knew the Sheriff had perfected on Stiles years ago.

“I didn’t,” Theo deadpanned. “I was going to, just so happened I came across those two first before I could.” He added, jutting a thumb towards the couple.

The Sheriff gave him a flat unimpressed look, an indication that he’s clearly questioning the unbelievable timing.

“You can track my phone on whatever fancy device you have,” Theo challenged. “My GPS was on. I was training Alec when it happened.”

“Okay, but what did they want from Liam?” Argent pressed, his gaze cold and analytical. “I get he’s for leverage, but there are other people who could fit the position better.” The statement was harsh but logical, implying targets like Melissa or even Stiles himself.

Theo’s eyes narrowed at the absurdity of the suggestion. “Because they’re basing this on Nolan’s capabilities. He’s still in school, and pretty much glued himself to the group. It's the easiest and most logical target.” He answered. “And besides, didn’t I use Liam to get to Scott once? Last I checked, it worked pretty well.”

The cruel, tactical reminder caused the entire group to exchange furtive, unsettling glances, somehow being able to see the sense in Theo’s deduction.

Stiles stared at him, the cogs of his brain working overtime before he tilted his head back, a flicker of grudging respect in his eyes. “I believe him,” he said, as if stating a factual answer. The declaration earned a few nervous, surprised glances toward him—even Theo was mildly shocked, his eyebrow slightly tilting upwards. Stiles would logically be the last person to say such a thing. “What?” He asked with a shrug, noticing the number of eyes on him. “How else would you know your enemy?”

“You have to think exactly like them,” Argent commented, agreeing.

The Sheriff made a tired exhale, rubbing his forehead in exasperation, “And now there’s three dead bodies at the Preserve, how do you think this will sound?

“If it’s any consolation, I wasn’t the one who went head-first towards enemy territory,” Theo defended himself, slipping his hands into his pockets in a deliberately carefree manner. “If anything, you all should be thanking me for keeping their little annoying asses alive.”

“And you would like that wouldn’t you?” Malia snarled, her voice tight with irritation.

“Hey, all I’m asking is a little recognition, your little puppy pack is a tough crowd to handle.” Theo mocked, before getting impatient himself and wiped the smirk off his own face, wanting to get to the core issue. “Dead bodies aside, my little run in with the hunters had given me enough information how their station up north is mostly a communication line.”

“Dead bodies aside?” Scott asked, his voice incredulous, strained by his Alpha morality. “You think lives like theirs are just expendable?”

Theo almost rolled his eyes, “Monroe definitely does,” he answered, irritated, “And you didn’t kill them, I did. Nothing in our deal said I need to reform myself from that.”

“That’s still a life.”

“Maybe you care, but I don’t,” Theo snapped, his composure thinning rapidly. “Are you really more pressed on the fact that I killed someone, and not the issue that your little angry beta has a god damn target on his head? I think this is the part where you need to set your priorities right.”

“Okay back it up,” Argent snapped, his voice successfully shutting the two teenagers up, before giving Theo a look that demanded focus. “You said something about a communication line, start there.”

Still gritting his teeth, Theo straightened up from leaning menacingly towards the true Alpha’s direction. “I have a map at the Sheriff’s office. There’s a pattern there that shows imports and exports along certain areas. Now, I know that doesn’t mean anything, but I’ve done cross-references, and most of these activities were done under a private company with manufacturers all having different shell names. One of their truck’s plate numbers had been part of Alec’s human trafficking case.”

If Alec stiffened, Theo paid no mind to him.

“Most activities were done at a private property up north, I thought it was their main headquarters but it’s more of a starting point. A brain.” Theo continued, making sure to make his delivery precise. “They wanted Liam to have more ease in operating within the area. The second Monroe has him, that’s when their chances of expanding their bases back in Beacon Hills starts.”

“And you’re sure about this, how?” Derek asked before Stiles could speak.

“Elliot, one of the hunters I’m quite acquainted with from when they still had me hostage, had given me enough clues to put it together,” Theo answered, his tone flat. “He’s mostly leading the operation on taking Liam.”

“And which of the dead bodies was him?” Stiles finally managed to ask, his brain latching onto the legal opening. “There might be something we can loot on his corpse to have valid proof for a warrant.”

Theo suddenly felt hot—that familiar feeling of deep regret when he can’t do what the Doctors expected him to do. When he can’t shift because it’s too painful, when he’s showing unnecessary empathy for wanting to bury the dead bodies, when he just can’t be the creature they expected him to be.

Theo gritted his teeth. “None, he got away.”

The immediate, frustrated disappointment on Stiles’s face was palpable. “Wow, that’s just great,” he started pacing rapidly. Fully aware that Theo’s words alone couldn’t help their case if they worked on this legally. “You prided yourself so much on being such a ruthless killer but couldn’t kill the guy that mattered.”

“What the fuck, Stiles?” Scott exclaimed, horrified.

“Hey, if the guy was already killing people, might as well use it as an advantage.” Stiles defended, “But guess not.”

“I think you’re missing the point that I’m covering three asses while taking intel,” Theo snapped, offended for disregarding his skills, the skills he had trained himself on since before he hit puberty. “What the hell have you been doing?”

“What have I been doing? For your—” Stiles started, anger flaring in his eyes.

“Stop arguing,” Derek’s voice was low, laced with the rough authority of someone who’d seen too many good arguments turn into bad fights. “The hunters are targeting one of us and we keep on circling back to childish banter. We’re wasting time arguing about moral high ground when there’s a literal threat on Liam’s head.”

Stiles immediately snapped his mouth shut, though his eyes remained fixed on Theo, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. Scott, chastened by Derek's intervention, let his shoulders drop. Theo, for once, almost made an exaggerated gesture of gratitude for finally hearing someone speak with sense.

Almost.

“You’re making this look like I can’t handle myself,” Liam said, sounding almost offended. “I’ve fought a literal hellhound.”

“You almost died to a hellhound,” Mason corrected.

“I’m not dead, aren’t I?” The beta argued.

“And right now, we’re trying to avoid that.” Derek intervened at the same time Lydia said, “Let’s not get to that part, please.”

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, the sound heavy with the burdens of law and supernatural chaos. He looked less like a lawman and more like a weary father. “The intel on the trafficking case and the private company is useful. Potentially very useful. But if these bodies are fresh, and we don’t have a name tied to the scene, and no confirmed victims to link to the warehous…” he trailed off.

“We can’t get a warrant fast enough,” Argent finished for him, his expression grim. “Not for a secluded private property this far north. They would’ve done something by the time the paperwork is signed.”

“Also, Theo’s words alone can’t be valid proof since Nolan’s phone’s broken. Especially if his blood and fingerprints are littered across the scene of the crime,” Stiles supplied, though his reasoning was factual, the inherent dig at Theo was present. “Instead of arresting Monroe, we might end up arresting you. Wouldn’t that be a sight to see.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned.

Stiles raised his hands up as if surrendering, “I’m joking. Well, mostly,” he added, earning a handful of sharp glares from the collective group. Stiles rubbed his tired eyes, his fingers leaving faint smudges on his eyelids. “We need to get eyes on that northern location, but legally. Dad, if the headquarters is handling illegal cross-state freight under shell companies, can you fast-track a federal investigation or a search warrant?”

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, running a weary hand through his hair. “Not on Theo’s word alone. Even with the old human trafficking case connection, a simple GPS ping and a description of activity isn’t enough for probable cause, especially against a private property barely under my jurisdiction.

“You’d need to confirm the presence of something illegal on the property itself,” Lydia summarized, tapping her finger on her chin. “We need visual confirmation or undeniable electronic proof of illegal activity at that location.”

“Which means scouting the site,” Peter Hale interjected with a sigh of theatrical boredom, leaning against a tree. “Or, you know, we could go the fun way and tear the place apart. That usually solves things faster.”

“Dude,” Stiles started, his attention snapping to Peter. “If you’re going to suggest something stupid, keep it to yourself. Put a leash on him, will you?” he demanded of Derek.

Derek’s response was only a flat, unimpressed stare.

“We have to go by the book,” Scott affirmed, his gaze resolute. “If we destroy the site without proof, we become the aggressors and give Monroe exactly what she wants—the legal justification to rally support against us.”

Theo’s jaw tightened. He shifted his weight, the internal frustration a silent roar. More proof means more time. More time means Liam stays a target longer, and they get closer to securing a beachhead. “That’s your decision?” Theo questioned, voice close to seething. “I busted my ass for months and the final verdict is to sit and wait?”

“Look, as much as I don’t like the idea myself, there aren’t any available options for us laid on the table if we’re to do this right,” Scott replied exasperatedly.

“The law,” Peter Hale drawled, adjusting his stance, looking bored. “Because that always works for us, doesn't it.”

“Oh shut up,” Malia snapped, turning her frustration on Peter. “Since when did you start going by the rules?”

“Exactly,” Peter agreed, pointing at his estranged daughter as if she had just validated his entire philosophy. He turned to the room at large and leveled everyone with a knowing look. “At this point everyone should know where I’m getting at.” He said before laying his eyes on Theo, a knowing smirk on his face, as if egging him.

Theo’s fingers twitched.

“We have Scott’s dad surveilling us,” Lydia reminded them, shooting a glare towards Peter’s direction. “One wrong move and we won’t be only dealing with Beacon’s Hill’s discrimination.”

“God, everything's been boring now ever since Agent McCall started digging into our business.” Peter bemoaned.

“It’s a valid precaution,” The sheriff replied, unimpressed.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m actually seeing Peter’s point.” Stiles commented with a slight shrug. The statement earned him immediate negative reaction from most. “What? It made sense, we’ve been able to move around Beacon Hills without the legal stuff for years. Wouldn’t really make a difference if we disregard the rules again.”

“The difference would be other than the county, we’ll be dealing with the government,” Derek deadpanned, trying to shut the thought down.

“Big words from someone who was on the FBI’s watch list.”

“You’re an FBI intern, Stiles.”

“Not right now, I’m on break,” Stiles rebutted.

“Stiles,” Scott intervened, pinching the bridge of his nose, “We’ve already discussed this. Us working outside the law didn’t exactly end well on our side, the whole town basically had us by the neck not that long ago.”

“Well, I’m not talking about us,” Stiles corrected, his eyes gleaming with a tactical solution. “I’m not the one doing the killing here. Theo had already got that area covered. Worst scenario for us, we’ll just be an accessory to murder.”

“Stiles!” Lydia exclaimed, hissing at him with immense exasperation. “Can we please table the murder-accomplice career path for a moment,” she said, her tone dry enough to start a fire. “Our problem is access and justification, nothing along the lines of murder.” She intoned, “Scott’s right; if we go in guns blazing, we’re the monsters they claim we are. We lose any remaining public sympathy and hand Monroe a propaganda victory.”

“So we get proof,” Argent stated, his arms crossed. He looked at the Sheriff. “Noah, you said you can’t get a warrant. But can you get a patrol car to do a ‘welfare check’? A noise complaint? Anything to get a deputy close enough to see something?”

The Sheriff shook his head, frustration etched on his face. “The property is barely under my jurisdiction. It’ll be a low priority even if I raise it for concern. We won’t be able to send in a cruiser.”

“Why does it have to be a cruiser?” Malia interjected, confused by the legal limitations. “Why can’t we just send someone in that they won’t see coming?”

“And if we get caught, then what?” Lydia challenged.

“They don’t know I can fully shift,” Malia argued back.

“No, they know.” Theo intervened, injecting another cold detail he’d extracted during his brawl with the hunters. “They’ve done enough research on me. It wouldn’t be far off if they did the same to all of you.”

Stiles stared at him, a question brimming at the back of his mind, “They looked you up?”

Theo smirked, though the expression was brittle. “What can I say, I guess you’re not the only group who thought I could be a great asset.” The comment made Mason and Corey exchange uneasy glances that Theo didn’t fail to notice, the realization that his words sounded a hint of self-sabotaging slicing through his defense. Alec’s heavy frown backed up this unspoken concern

Fortunately, they remained closed-mouthed.

“If Theo’s right,” Argent interjected, putting an immediate pause on a probable argument. “Then a direct, physical incursion is too risky without knowing the security measures.”

“So we’re back to square one, great,” Stiles supplied, voicing out the obvious problem. “Might as well sit like ducks and wait for them to make a move on Liam.”

“Wouldn’t be a new thing,” Liam muttered, sounding deeply pissed and defensive. “Everyone’s always been after me.”

“Story of Scott and Derek’s life kiddo, don’t feel too special about it,” Stiles replied, patting the beta on the back.

“You’re taking this a little too lightly,” Theo stated, eyes narrowing at the brunette’s flippancy.

Stiles paused and looked up, a calculative expression on his face as he stared down Theo. “And you’re taking this way too seriously for someone who we only struck a deal with to find Monroe.”

Theo’s mouth snapped shut and his gaze hardened. “Maybe because now that I found a viable lead to find her, everyone seems to decide that taking a step back was the better choice of action. How am I not pissed about that?”

Theo almost let it slip, almost let them know. The idea that they’re more cautious about the legality of things than the concern of Liam’s well-being had been putting Theo on edge, making him a little loose lipped. He knew McCall would always do the right thing, and that’s the flaw Theo cannot tolerate, not when he agreed to work with them to avoid this very problem.

“It’s not about sitting and waiting,” Scott said, trying to sound calming, though his own frustration was evident. “It’s about being smart. We find a legal way in. We watch the place. We track their movements. We find a weak link.”

Scott cares deeply for his pack, Theo painfully knew this, but right now he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about his moral code. “And how long will that take?” Theo demanded, his voice was low, a dangerous rumble that cut through Scott’s placating tone, his gaze locked on the Alpha. “A week? A month? Didn’t know we’re waiting ‘till christmas.”

“Exactly what choice do we have?” Scott’s patience finally snapped. “What’s your brilliant solution? You want to go up there alone? Kill everyone inside? Add more bodies to your count? How does that help us in the long run?”

“It gets the fucking threat away,” Theo snarled, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “Or should I remind you why I agreed to work with your pack in the first place? The second this place gets over thrown I’m blaming you. I stayed here for a reason and your damn moral compass won’t change how I operate!”

For a brief moment, Theo could feel Liam’s sudden eyes on him. His reaction was miniscule but it was enough for Theo to understand that Liam forgot about that little important detail, and the reminder was something of an almost unwelcome surprise to him.

Huh.

“Everyone calm down!” The Sheriff boomed, intervening before the fight could turn physical. He leveled Theo a hard look. “We know, we didn’t forget. Our goals are aligned and it still is. All of us are working together for the same reason, pointing fingers at each other won’t solve anything.”

“Not to take sides,” Peter started with an annoying chirp. “Scott’s right,” he said, surprising everyone again. “But also very wrong, personally. The legal route is the right route, but it’s also the slow route. You guys want a shortcut? We got a shortcut.” He stopped and pointed a dismissive finger at Theo. “He’s the shortcut. He’s not one of you guys, no offense.” The comment was directed at Liam to which the beta only made a face. “His reputation is already garbage. If he gets caught, it’s on him. We can disavow him.”

A ripple of discomfort went through the pack.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Liam exclaimed, horrified by the suggestion.

“I honestly stopped asking,” Peter replied with a shrug.

“We are not using Theo as a sacrificial lamb,” Lydia stated, her voice leaving no room for argument. Tired from Peter’s antics.

“Aside from the fact that it’s morally reprehensible, he has more intelligence on their operations right now than anyone. He’s an asset, not a disposable tool.” Scott admitted. “And it’s not just right, Peter.” The testament almost threw Theo off guard, they had been at each other’s throat about the moral high ground, he wasn’t aware that Scott’s not willing to sacrifice even his life.

A knowledge that Theo still couldn’t comprehend well.

“Your big heart really is such a huge flaw of yours, Scott.” Peter mocked.

Derek took a firm threatening grip on his uncle’s arm and leveled him a stare. “Alright that’s enough from you,” he growled. “Either you zip it or leave.”

Peter’s response was to only mime zipping his mouth shut and raising his hand as if surrendering, as if the whole discussion was only a game to him. A mild entertainment. It ticked Theo off—a sick form of tasting his very own medicine.

Scott rubbed his temples, looking every one of his years and then some. “Here is what is going to happen. Noah will formally request a county welfare check on the property, citing anonymous tips about suspicious activity. It will be slow, and it will likely end in nothing, but it’s the first legal step. Simultaneously, me and Argent will use our contacts to dig deeper into this shell company. Find a financial crime, an environmental violation, anything we can use to get a federal agency involved.”

He turned his stern gaze to the rest of the pack. “The rest of you will stand down. No unauthorized scouting missions. No vigilante justice. Is that understood?” His eyes lingered particularly on Stiles, Malia, and finally, Theo.

Stiles muttered a reluctant “Yeah, fine.”

Theo didn’t respond. He just held Scott’s gaze, his own flat and unreadable. He didn’t agree.

The meeting dissolved into smaller, tense conversations. Scott was already on the phone with his father. Argent and Derek were huddled over a map. Theo stood alone, a silent island in the sea of pack activity. He watched them, these people with their bonds and their morals and their slow, careful plans. He had given them everything—the location, the motive, the immediate threat. And their final decision was to fucking wait.

A muscle in his jaw twitched. He had already made his decision hours ago, back in the Preserve with the scent of blood and wolfsbane thick in the air. To wait wasn’t a risk he’s willing to gamble.

The pack could play by their rules.

Theo Raeken had never been very good at following rules.

---

Theo can’t sleep.

The barbecue night had ended with a heavy, unresolved atmosphere.

Liam was now under strict, visible surveillance, much to the Beta’s intense displeasure that he never failed to vocalize in frustrated tones.

“I’m stronger than most of you, I don't need a babysitter,” Liam had complained.

“You’re only stronger when you're angry and irrational,” Lydia deadpanned, an instant rebuttal to Liam’s poor argument. “Just bear with it will you?”

Nolan was pulled aside by Scott a little after the Alpha finished a few of his rushed phone calls, advising the human to come clean to his parents so that the blackmail won’t work anymore. Being part of Liam’s close circle would drastically help his situation as a changed man.

Theo didn’t try listening further into that clusterfuck of a conversation, not when Nolan was close to tears every time he blinked.

Adjusting his stiff, uncomfortable position against Liam’s bedroom door, Theo remembered the frustration, the anger, and the cold spike of fear that had consumed him during the confrontation at the McCall house. But amidst the chaos, he hadn't missed Stiles. The pinched, calculating expression across the Sheriff's son's face told Theo he wasn't fully on board with Scott’s slow, legalistic plan.

Their short, loaded eye contact before leaving the party had been enough to send Theo a clear message.

Theo didn’t opt to sleep that night, his brain working overtime as he stared at the ceiling. He stayed there until the hue of the night sky started to lighten, only leaving once his alarm went off.

Liam was neither chatty nor in a good mood when they ate breakfast that morning. If it weren’t for the suspicious lack of dark circles under his eyes, Theo would’ve thought the guy’s nightmares were back and that Theo’s heartbeat alone wasn’t working anymore.

Theo tried to ignore Jenna’s questioning stare by inspecting the boring details of her dining table. It worked to some extent, at least that’s what Theo would like to believe. He felt relieved when it was time to head out, mainly because Liam didn’t feel like finishing his food.

Since Theo was already driving and picking Liam up and dropping him off for his lacrosse practice, Mason, Corey, and—in addition—Nolan were tasked to watch him during his training. This meant Theo had to make an extra detour to pick up the remaining puppies, dropping them off at school, before he picked up Alec.

More responsibilities that Theo couldn’t find in himself to decline.

“Are we there yet?” Liam suddenly asked from the passenger seat.

Theo frowned, his eyes still fixed on the road as he made a turn toward Mason’s humble abode. “I’ve barely driven for a minute, Liam. Use your brain.” he answered, the irritation already creeping into his tone.

Theo didn't need to see Liam’s eye-roll; he could feel the shift in the Beta's posture. “I know where Mason lives,” Liam retorted. “I’m not talking about that.”

Well, how the hell was Theo supposed to know that? “Then what are you talking about?” Theo asked, slightly irritated. If he wanted cryptic messages, he should’ve just spent his time with Deaton.

“You and me,” Liam repeated, his voice dropping, becoming sudden and serious. “Are we there yet, our relationship?” The question was delivered with far less fluster and a lot more intent than Theo was prepared for, making the Chimera almost press his foot hard on the brakes.

Almost.

There’s been a lot of ‘Almost’s’ in Theo’s life recently. It’s a bit concerning.

“Do you typically not think first before you talk?” Theo asked, voice tight while trying not to grip his steering wheel a little too hard that it might break. “Or is Stiles your preferred role model now?”

Theo’s well aware of Liam’s weekly calls with Scott, and in extent, to the pack. So maybe, Lydia’s ‘inevitable’ comment and Malia’s ‘boyfriend’ statement could be a cause of Liam’s poor choice of words whenever he reports back to his alpha. The theory doesn’t seem far off, especially when there's valid proof.

“What?” Liam asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. It took him a second before realization hit, and Liam’s face turned an immediate, scorching scarlet. “Tha-that’s—! That is not!—- THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT! JESUS FUCK!” The explosive denial vibrated in the small space of the truck cab.

“Once is a mistake, twice is a choice,” Theo mocked, “You sure you don’t have the hots for me, Dunbar?”

“Get over yourself, Raeken,” Liam growled, but the heat in his cheeks was undeniable. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Fine, whatever. What exactly did you mean?” Theo asked instead, trying to level out Liam’s acute embarrassment. He already had a target over his head; Theo could grant him this small reprieve of dignity.

“I just…” Liam muttered, the embarrassment quickly dissolving and replaced by a sharp spike of anxiousness. Theo couldn’t help but throw a short, worried glance toward the beta, a brief flicker of concern that went unnoticed.

“You just what?” Theo egged on.

Liam let out a heavy huff and leaned back. “It’s been a while, so I forgot about your whole reason for staying, thing. You never really said anything about it,” he mumbled. Theo could easily debunk that statement; he was openly telling people about there being a certain person he wants alive no matter what that remains unnamed. He just never says it around Liam. “A-and I don’t know. I just feel like… well, I mean, we’re friends, right?” He asked, and the sound of uncertainty in his voice had oddly bothered Theo. “Are we not there yet, for you to tell me, you know, who it is?”

Theo remained his eyes on the road, his teeth grinding against each other as he fought desperately for his chemosignals and heartbeat to stay hidden. Liam’s heart rate was fast, and he smelled of nervousness and anxiety mixed together, a clammy, almost foul scent.

He stayed silent. Wanting to say something but couldn’t find the right words to say.

Theo must have stayed silent far too long because Liam let out a slow, sad sigh and thunked his head against the back seat. “Right,” he said, resignation heavy in his voice. “Okay, whatever. Forget I said anything.”

The fact that Liam wasn’t pressuring him, wasn’t persuading Theo to talk was jarring. And Theo shouldn’t even feel that way, not when Theo practically begged the guy to not be an invasive fucker.

But Theo can’t give Liam the answer he wanted, not when the stakes are currently high, not when there’s no relevance why he should, not when the very knowledge can be used against him, and Theo would never find the reason to say no. Theo knew exactly how he would react to that threat: with immediate, devastating compliance.

Unless…

We’re friends, right?

Jesus fucking Christ, Theo’s getting soft. It’s not even funny.

Taking a deep breath deciding to just fuck it, he took Liam’s nearest hand, near the gear shift, and promptly let it wrap around his right wrist—his pulse, leaving his left hand to drive the wheel. Theo, slowly let his masks drop down.

“I can’t tell you,” he finally said, voice clipped as he forced himself to adjust his grip on the steering wheel. Feeling his own pulse reverberate against Liam’s palm. “It’s not a ‘won’t’, so take what you can get from that.”

Liam’s eyes were wide, staring adamantly at Theo’s, feeling the subtle, powerful rhythm of the Chimera’s unmasked pulse. His face was so open and easily read—shock, confusion, and a flicker of deep satisfaction—that Theo had a hard time keeping his focus on the road, urgently reminding himself to make the turn or he’d miss Mason’s house.

Theo flexed his fingers, skin suddenly feeling hot under Liam’s touch. “You can let go now.” He said, slowly pulling all of his masks back up.

Suddenly unable to smell or hear anything from Theo other than the normal, muffled sounds, Liam blinked and sobered up immediately, letting go of Theo’s wrist with an awkward flail, “Right, right,” he stammered. “Sorry, uhhh. My bad.”

One of Theo’s eyebrows raised up as his right hand returned on the wheel, “Deal’s a deal. Why act surprised?”

“Well, I just,” Liam faked a cough and fidgeted on his seat. “I wasn’t expecting you’d still… continue it.”

Brief memories of Liam trying to reach out and Theo simply blocking his attempts resurfaced. He tried not to wince at the memory. Theo decided not to comment.

“Must be some person, huh?” Liam continued, trying to awkwardly continue the conversation, wanting to fill the sudden silence.

Theo frowned, confused. “What?”

“Well, I mean, when I met you, you only cared about yourself,” the beta explained, shrugging slightly, laying out his unfiltered thoughts on the subject. “You’re a lot softer now. Still an asshole at times, but, well, more likable. I should thank them, you know?”

Theo refrained from swallowing, the dryness in his throat sudden and absolute. If he was planning to formulate a reply, the sight of Mason’s brightly colored house was the sudden, necessary relief he didn’t know he needed. The horrific, intimate conversation with Liam had finally ended. It was relieving and horrifying at the exact same time.

After picking up the remaining puppies and having them fight over whose turn it was to use the aux—with Liam winning since he was in the passenger seat—Theo was finally able to drop them off at the school. The instant, enveloping silence that fell over his truck was something he never thought would bother him. He stared at the four retreating figures as they headed inside the building, their noise becoming a distant buzz before vanishing completely.

Theo stared at his steering wheel, tapping rhythmically at the leather curve with one finger.

Contemplating.

With a decided, sharp huff through his nose, Theo unparked his truck, shifted gears, and drove off. He deliberately missed the turn toward the McCall house, instead taking the familiar, secluded route toward the Stilinski residence. He made sure that his phone was left charging in his room at the Dunbar-Geyer house—a clear break from surveillance. If Theo could guess, he only had a few precious hours before the Sheriff would start looking for him.

“I thought you’d be earlier,” Stiles said the second he opened his door to see Theo standing behind it, a fist raised mid-air as he attempted to knock. There was no surprise in Stiles’s voice, only mild impatience.

Theo’s hand fell limply at his sides. “I had to drive the puppies to lacrosse practice,” Theo answered, unimpressed. Feeling that the conversation had already been settled, he turned and started marching back toward his truck.

“Hey, hey! Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah!” Stiles exclaimed, following quickly behind him. “What made you think we’ll use your truck?”

Theo stilled and turned, an eyebrow raised as he pointedly stared at the human. “Your jeep’s trash, Stiles.” he answered, as if that singular, factual statement held enough explanation for his choice.

“You’re truck’s littered with bullet holes,” Stiles argued, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly offended on behalf of the vehicle.

“The engine of your jeep is being held together by duct tape,” Theo countered smoothly. “You left it in Beacon Hills while you study. I’ve been doing maintenance on my own truck every month on the dot. Also, the last time I rode your jeep, it was making noise.”

Stiles stared at him, his mouth pressed into a thin line as he narrowed his eyes, running a quick cost-benefit analysis. It didn’t take long before the man conceded. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbled, marching towards Theo’s truck and leaving the Chimera behind him. “You better have my bat. I gave it to Liam before I left.”

“It’s at the back,” Theo answered, somehow already regretting his choice of ally.

“How much time do we have before my dear old daddy-o start to realize you’ve gone rogue again?” Stiles asked the second Theo got to buckle his seatbelt. He was sprawling slightly in the passenger seat, already looking and acting way too comfortable for someone who’d never been in Theo’s truck before.

Theo turned the engine over—a smooth, clean rumble—and adjusted his gear. “I have until lunch if Alec assumes I ditched today’s training out of pettiness.”

“And if he didn’t?”

Theo shrugged, pulling the truck onto the road. “Probably less than an hour.”

Stiles let out a slow, whistled hiss of impressed tension. “That tight?” he asked. Theo silently nodded once, eyes scanning the familiar route. “How does it feel to have people watch you like a hawk twenty-four seven?” he teased, sounding a little too delighted with the high-stakes situation.

“Not much different from when I was with the Doctors,” Theo answered flatly, the memory cold and immediate. “Just with different consequences.” He briefly remembered the threat of being deemed a failure and having his body lumped along with all the other rejected creatures, before and after him.

Stiles scoffed but didn’t immediately respond. He stared at Theo, his gaze lingering, as if trying to get a quick, accurate read on the Chimera before letting out a huff, a look of sudden, clear realization dawning on his face. “Holy shit, Liam’s not lying. It’s like your charisma went from a hundred to zero; you’re just this grumpy asshole now.”

Theo had a second to process the statement. He remembered that Stiles was basically out of commission the entire time Theo got back from hell, and they hadn't seen each other since the war, when Theo had declined the offer to regroup at Scott’s place after staring at Gabe’s dead body for far too long.

For all Stiles knew, Theo was still the fake, nice person trying to win people’s trust for self-gain, since whenever Theo was in a group gathering, he never seemed to let his fake bravado slip. Now, sitting next to him, Stiles was seeing the unvarnished, perpetually annoyed version Liam had described.

The thought was personally insulting.

“I could still be charismatic, if that’s what you prefer,” Theo offered, voice flat in irritation.

“Spare me,” was Stiles’ immediate, disgusted response. “I’d rather eat a bullet,” he added, before mockingly miming a gun and pretending to shoot himself. Theo pointedly offered no comment, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. The second Stiles’ eyes landed back on him, the Chimera didn’t have to see the glint—he could feel the heavy question building up. “Soooo, Liam… What’s your deal with him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Theo replied curtly, flexing his fingers on the steering wheel, his internal masks tightening.

“Ohhh, you don’t. My bad,” Stiles replied, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. Theo could give him some serious lessons in theatrical lying. “It’s just that, you suddenly became way too invested when there’s a target on Liam’s head.”

“I’m not that invested.” Theo gritted, the lie tasting like ash.

“Oh yeah? Look what we’re doing right now,” Stiles deadpanned, indicating their current illicit situation with a sweeping hand gesture. “Try again.”

Theo knew he could deflect, simply ignore the question and not answer at all. But his silence would already be enough of an answer for Stiles. So why the incessant questioning? “Don’t you already know the answer to that?” he challenged, turning his head just slightly.

And Stiles.

Stiles smiled—a small, knowing, triumphant smile—acknowledging that he did, in fact, know. That Theo’s well-kept secret was now an available piece of knowledge to the human investigator. He knew, and just wanted the confirmation, and Theo had given it to him, easily and defeatedly.

The human leaned back, looking proud and perfectly at ease by the sudden, soft revelation, a fact that irritated Theo to the point of his eye twitching. “I had a hunch, just wanted to be sure. Subtlety isn’t your best trait when emotions are involved.”

Theo’s knuckles whitened from the tight grip he had on his steering wheel, the memory of his minor slips during last night’s barbecue fueling his resentment. He was starkly reminded of how observantly smart Stiles could be; it was horrifyingly annoying. “What now? You’re gonna shout it from the rooftop? Use it against me so that I can’t say no? Make it—”

“Whoa, pump the brakes there, Raeken. The only evil person here is you,” Stiles mockingly assured him, holding up his hands. The assurance was ironic, given Stiles's tendency to mess with people for entertainment, sometimes unintentionally. “Besides, Lydia’ll have my head if I told the whole pack.”

Theo’s brain halted, surprised. “Lydia said that?”

“Not exactly. Just told me not to dig too much into it,” Stiles replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Something about you being too confused after hell and all that.”

Theo made another turn, eyes narrowing from the statement. “Confused in what?”

Stiles shrugged, “Hell if I know.” he answered honestly, having no interest in the subject. “So are we picking up anyone else or just you and me?” he finally asked after noticing that the chimera doesn’t seem to be making any other extra detours.

“Just you and me,” Theo answered, making a crisp right turn onto the highway ramp.

The look Stiles gave him was a mixture of concern and comical disbelief, almost funny in its extremity. “Hey, if you have suicidal tendencies, I won’t stop you—we’re not that close yet for me to have that type of responsibility over you. But my kink does not involve double suicide. I still have a diploma waiting for me.”

Theo’s eye rolled so hard it almost strained the muscle. “Open the glovebox,” he ordered. He only continued talking after Stiles reluctantly obeyed and pulled out Theo’s condensed months of research, neatly compiled together with a paper clip. “Monroe’s activities have a strict schedule; it’s not randomized. For today, in thirty minutes, most of the hunters working for her are out making exports. Now, I know my little skirmish with Elliot might cause for a change, but their area is secluded enough that communication is barely available. I’ve checked and rechecked; they send their reports along with the exports.”

“We have an opening,” Stiles said, summarizing everything Theo had presented while scanning quickly through the density of the files in his hand. He wore a triumphant, almost manic grin, as if Christmas had come early. In a sudden, jerky movement, Stiles pulled a crumpled but carefully folded piece of paper from the inside of his flannel pocket and started unravelling it.

“What the hell are you doing, Stilinski?” Theo demanded, torn between watching Stiles and keeping his eyes safely on the road.

“When Derek was under the FBI’s watch list, Beacon Hills was under their radar and they had copies of most abandoned warehouses' internal structures. A few minutes with the photocopy machine and I got a bunch of these stocked up in my room,” Stiles explained, smoothing the wrinkled paper. “Found out last night where Parrish went to inspect the dead bodies. A simple geographic cross-reference and I pinpointed the warehouse you’re talking about.”

“Did you even sleep?” Theo asked, surprising himself from the genuine question. The chimera quietly filed the fact that Stiles had made the effort of doing this much work originally because of Derek.

Stiles’ head snapped up, and he glared at the Chimera. “You have bags under your eyes,” he deadpanned, pointing put the hypocrisy of Theo’s question. “Besides, didn’t you choose me to help you with this little suicidal adventure because of my brain?”

“Your brain is just a welcomed bonus,” Theo corrected, but the concession was still a clear acknowledgment of the advantage.

“Oh yeah? How far off was I on the list?” Stiles challenged, childishly needing to know his rank.

Theo didn’t even hesitate, “Third.”

“I was fucking dead last?” Stiles complained in disbelief, already calculating the number of people willing to attack the warehouse based on last night’s chaotic conversation.

Theo shrugged, offering the brutal logic of his rating system. “Peter’s detached enough to not put effort; he could leave me way before anything happens. Malia’s attached enough to put in an effort but stupid enough to put her head in the line of fire.” He paused, then finished. “You care enough for Liam to put in an effort but is smart enough to know when to leave me when necessary.”

The short silence between them was sudden and heavy. Theo couldn't read the emotion in the air, but he knew for certain that Stiles had caught the implication.

“Leave in what way?” Stiles asked, his voice sounding too flat to consider a joke, and too serious for anything but the darkest of implications.

Theo almost scoffed at the feigned innocence. “Oh, c’mon, Stiles, don’t pretend to go soft on me now,” he said, his voice grating. “I know you agreed wholeheartedly when Peter said I should be the sacrificial lamb.”

“I didn’t say I agree to that idea,” Stiles countered, his face hardening.

“You didn’t have to.” Theo finished, the truth hanging between them: sometimes, silence was the loudest tactical agreement. “You’re human, Stiles, you’re not a fighter. That reason alone puts you at the very bottom of the list.” Theo continued, cutting the heavy atmosphere.

Stiles, sobering up, scoffed, “Please, with me along, this would just be a walk in the park. I got all the exit routes jotted down. How do you think I managed to keep Scott alive for this long?”

“Because Peter liked you and was stupid enough to not kill you at the field and instead offered you the bite.” Theo muttered, earning him a very unimpressed look from the brunette. If you squint, Stiles oddly looked like his father. The similarity was uncanny.

“I have a plan, alright,” Stiles snapped, “I am forty percent sure it’ll work. Way better than all the times we were winging it on the spot.”

“And you’re jinxing us already.” Theo replied flatly before taking a peak on Stiles’ blueprint, eyebrows furrowing before returning his eyes on the road. “Why don’t we enter by the northern entrance, wouldn’t that be the closest route for internal damage?”

“Eyes on the road buddy,” Stiles reminded him condescendingly, “And no, unless you’re really serious about going down kamikaze style, that’s a one way ticket are you kidding me? Are you that excited to go back to hell?”

“I’m not planning to die, Stiles.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” Stiles replied with a tut, pulling out a red pen and started circling words on Theo’s research.

“Woah, hey.” Theo exclaimed, “What the hell are you doing?”

Stiles didn’t even bother to pause, just flipped another page and circled another one, Theo’s eye twitched. “Hey, we’re already going there with all the blazing glory, might as well destroy any evidence that could link back to the supernatural. Your concern is Liam, my concern is his reputation in school." He explained, which, okay, that stupidly made sense. “We need to run over these once we reach the rendezvous point.”

Theo remained silent.

“Dude, relax. We got this in the bag.”

---

They, unfortunately, did not have it in the bag.

The plan, according to Stiles, was beautifully simple: a surgical, covert strike. According to Theo, it was a house of cards built on Stiles’s inflated sense of cinematic cleverness.

Stiles, already unfolding his pilfered, crinkled blueprint on the dashboard, didn't look up. “Phase one: Sneak in. Southside loading dock. Less traffic—if you’re correct, no vehicles on site—and fewer hunters guarding the back gate.” He tapped the paper sharply. “Phase two: Locate and destroy. Primary targets: server room if they have one, any paper files, their wolfsbane stockpile. Secondary: any communications equipment. We cripple their brain and their bite.”

“Forty percent sure, my ass,” Theo muttered, cutting the engine a quarter-mile from the target. The truck was concealed deep within a thick copse of pine. He pushed his door open. Stiles seemed to think they were Batman and Robin with how ambitious the plan was, especially with only the two of them.

“It’s a solid forty,” Stiles insisted, already unbuckling and grabbing his familiar metal bat from the back. “My forty is better than most people’s ninety.”

“And the other sixty percent of uncertainty?” Theo asked, leaning against the truck’s cool metal, his arms crossed, watching Stiles round the vehicle.

"The other sixty percent is the part where we don't know how many guys Elliot didn't take on the export run, if they have any surprises, OR if my dad has already put out an APB on your truck," Stiles said with a manic gleam. “But hey, optimism.”

Theo snorted. “Your optimism is what got Scott almost killed multiple times.”

“Correlation, not causation. Now, phase three: Exfiltrate. We go out the way we came, or through the eastern gate if things get hot. We do not engage unless absolutely necessary. This is smash-and-dash, not smash-and-murder.” He fixed Theo with a pointed look. “You got the ‘not murder’ part, right? We're making a point, not adding to your body count.”

“Scott’s life motto starting to rub on you?” Theo inquired, a dry lift to his lip.

“More like Lydia made a good point, and I learned the hard way that Lydia always makes good points.” Stiles answered in a matter-of-fact tone, almost as if he didn’t know it was a rhetorical question. “We’re already under hot water, more deaths will make it close to boiling.”

“Your moral pivot is not a tactical upgrade.” Theo deadpanned, pushing off the truck with a sigh. “Let's go.”

They parked Theo’s truck two miles out, hidden in a thicket of scrub oak. The late morning sun was harsh, baking the dry earth. Their approach was a low, careful crawl through the underbrush, Stiles complaining every time a twig snapped or a thorn caught his flannel.

“Remind me why we didn’t just drive up to the front door?” Stiles hissed, swatting at a fly.

“Because the plan, which you wrote, said ‘covert approach’,” Theo muttered, scanning ahead. His senses were stretched thin, filtering the forest’s noise from any mechanical or human sound. “And my truck’s engine is quieter than your mouth, but not quiet enough to avoid a scene.”

They moved through the trees with a practiced silence that was more a product of mutual tension than skill. Tara’s presence was a sizable distance away from them this time, easy to ignore. The warehouse loomed ahead—a long, low, corrugated metal building that looked like it had been abandoned years before Monroe’s people moved in. It was perfect. No windows, minimal external features.

The plan lasted approximately ninety seconds

The rusted latch on the loading dock door wasn’t just rusted; it was welded shut from the inside, a fact they discovered only after five frantic, silent minutes of Theo trying to force it with his claws, the screech of metal on metal sounding like a damn alarm in the quiet woods.

“Great. Fantastic. Off to a stellar start,” Stiles hissed, pacing a tight circle. “There’s a ventilation grate on the south wall. It’s small.”

“Do I look like a ferret to you?” Theo retorted, wiping the dust from his claws.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’ve weaselled your way out of hell.” Stiles shrugged.

“I think you’re forgetting that Liam got me out.” Theo corrected sharply.

“Semantic,” Stiles replied dismissively before gesturing for Theo to get a move on, “Well c’mon.”

The grate was, indeed, small. And set eight feet off the ground. And bolted with shiny, new hardware that stood out starkly against the rusted frame.

“It’s newly reinforced,” Theo whispered. “They know about this entrance.

“No, they’re just really into home security.” Stiles shot back, voice a strangled whisper-yell. “Of course they know! If your files aren’t bullshit, either the patrol schedules don’t change for another twenty minutes and we have time, or they really need more people to man all exits. Help me up.”

“You’re forty should be a ten,” Theo mumbled under his breath, but squatted down and interlocked his fingers to create a secure foothold for Stiles.

“How about I hit you with my bat ten times?” Stiles countered, stepping into Theo’s hands.

Theo boosted him. Stiles grunting as he went to work with a compact multi-tool. The bolts came off with soft clicks. Stiles slid the grate aside and wriggled through with a disgusting amount of ease. Theo followed, the metal frame scraping against his shoulders. He landed in a crouch in a dim, dusty maintenance corridor, the air thick with the smell of damp concrete and ozone.

Stiles was already consulting his blueprint, eyes wide in the gloom. “Okay. Wolfsbane storage is this way. Servers are on the upper level, accessed through that stairwell.” He pointed. “We split up. Efficiency, boom.”

“We do not split up,” Theo growled, immediately disagreeing, grabbing the human by the arm before he could move. “Are you crazy? Or did you just forget your very human status?”

Before Theo could realize the extra heartbeat close to their vicinity, a man—young, with a patchy beard—turned a corner and came face to face with a hunter taking a smoke break. He froze, cigarette dangling from his lip. His eyes widened, darting from Theo’s clearly supernatural glare to Stiles’s “oh crap” expression.

Theo moved.

He didn’t kill. He remembered Stiles’s hissed priority, much to his displeasure. He crossed the distance in a blur, his fist connecting with the hunter’s jaw in a crack that echoed. The man crumpled, unconscious before he hit the ground.

“Tell me you did not just kill him?” Stiles asked exasperatedly, staring at the fallen hunter.

“Just heavily concussed,” Theo said flatly, crouching down dragging the body behind a crate. “He could still die.”

”Eh, just let nature run its course,”

“Big words for someone who said ‘no murder’ just a few minutes ago,” Theo countered, pulling himself back to his feet, the adrenaline already fading.

The argument was cut short by a shout from the mezzanine. “Hey! Jenkins? You down there?”

Theo shoved Stiles behind a support column. “I think he heard us.” He pointed out.

Stiles gave him a deadass look, “You think?” He hissed. “Okay, Plan B,” he whispered, his voice high and panicked. “What’s Plan B?”

“There is no Plan B. There was barely a Plan A.” Theo peered cautiously around the column. A hunter, wearing a heavy tactical vest, leaned over the mezzanine railing, peering into the gloom of the maintenance corridor. He was reaching for the radio clipped to his shoulder. “I make the distraction, you go to the server room.”

“You said not to split up,” Stiles hissed, clutching his bat tighter.

“That was before we blew our position. Read the fucking room, Stiles!” Theo snapped back, the necessity overriding the strategy.

Theo looked at Stiles, then at a stack of empty metal drums ten feet away. A stupid, reckless idea formed. He met Stiles’s eyes and pointed at the drums, then made a throwing motion. Stiles’s face went through stages of disbelief, horror, and reluctant understanding. He gave a tiny, no-choice nod.

Theo took a deep breath, focused, and shoved the stack with all his chimera strength. Not to topple it, but to send the top drum flying like a giant, clumsy discus. It crashed into a shelving unit twenty yards away with a deafening, clattering roar.

“What the—” The hunter on the mezzanine spun, training his rifle on the noise. “Jenkins? Matthews? Check that out!”

Two heartbeats—the generator guards—started moving toward the sound.

“Go,” Theo silently mouthed to Stiles, pointing toward the now-unguarded stairs leading up to the mezzanine level.

“You better not fucking die before we get out of this place.” Stiles hissed before scrambling up the metal steps like a startled raccoon. Theo melted into the deeper shadows, a ghost tracking the two hunters now investigating his diversion. If stealth wasn’t Stiles’ strong suit, it might actually never be. Theo needed to remind himself why he chose him for this particular agenda.

He could hear Stiles above, the soft snick of a lock being picked, the creak of a door.

Theo’s job was to keep the playground clear. He stalked the two hunters, using the maze of shelves as his territory. He disarmed the first with a sharp kick to the wrist, sending the rifle skittering, and delivered a precise chop to the neck. The second got a face-full of shelving unit when Theo tipped it over, burying him in a cascade of empty cardboard boxes with a yelp.

See that, McCall? No killing. Just… forceful napping.

Jesus fuck, a few minutes with Stiles, he’s already mentally making shit comments.

A sudden, sharp zap and a curse from the mezzanine. Then the beautiful, destructive sound of shattering glass and splintering plastic.

“Stiles?” Theo hissed, speeding toward the stairs.

He arrived to find the small office looking like a tornado had hit a RadioShack. Monitors were smashed, hard drives were yanked from their bays and stomped on, and wires were pulled from the walls. Stiles stood in the middle, wielding his bat like a conductor’s baton, breathing heavily. A sparking, fried server tower smoked at his feet.

“Data? Annihilated,” Stiles panted, a wild, victorious grin stretching across his face. “Also, their security system ran on Windows 95. I almost felt bad for it.”

“The wolfsbane,” Theo reminded him, though he was grudgingly impressed.

“Right. Storage, ground floor, climate-controlled. Let’s go.” Stiles pointed toward the far end of the warehouse.

They made it three steps out of the office before the lights—harsh, industrial fluorescents—blazed to life overhead.

“INTRUDERS! ON THE MEZZANINE!” a voice boomed over a crackling PA system. The front guard. He’d found his way to an office, probably the main one.

So much for stealth.

“New plan!” Stiles exclaimed.

“Just fucking run, Stilinski!” Theo yelled, instinctively manhandling Stiles toward the staircase.

They pelted down the stairs as the first gunshots rang out. Crack! Crack! Wolfsbane-tipped bullets sparked off the metal steps near Theo’s feet. He grabbed Stiles by the back of his flannel and yanked him behind a forklift as another volley whined past.

“Okay, okay!” Stiles yelled over the gunfire. “Wolfsbane storage is that rolling door! See it? We blow it!”

“With what, genius?! We don’t have explosives!”

“We have a forklift and a whole lot of flammable industrial cleaners!” Stiles pointed to a cluster of yellow hazard drums. “Can you drive a forklift?”

“Can you?”

“I watched a video on youtube once.”

It was the single stupidest idea Theo had ever heard. Forty percent his fucking god damn ass. With how they were basically winging everything, he was actually surprised the McCall pack was still alive and thriving if their group’s foundation was Stiles’ on-the-spot planning. Still, Theo couldn’t help but give credit; so far, they weren't dead with barely enough planning under their belts.

“Cover me!” he barked, and burst from behind the forklift. He didn’t run toward the shooter; he ran past him, a zigzagging blur, drawing fire away from Stiles’s position.

Stiles, meanwhile, was doing something inexplicable with wires under the forklift’s dashboard. Theo heard a chunk-whirr and the machine lurched to life. “And she’s alive! Ha ha!” Stiles screamed, maniacally.

The shooter, confused by Theo’s movement, swung his rifle back toward the suddenly moving vehicle. It gave Theo the opening he needed. He scaled a shelving unit in two leaps and dropped down behind the hunter, disarming him with a brutal twist. This time, the man stayed down with a pained groan.

“Dude! Three o’clock!” Stiles’s scream with a manic yell.

Theo turned. The two hunters he’d buried in boxes had dug themselves out. And the one he’d punched first—Jenkins—was back up, looking furious. All three were advancing, weapons raised. And Stiles, in the forklift, was desperately trying to steer it toward the cluster of hazard drums.

“The door, Stiles! Just ram the fucking door!” Theo roared, putting himself between the hunters and the forklift.

What followed was ninety seconds of pure, unadulterated chaos. Theo became a whirlwind of non-lethal violence. He used shelves as shields, crates as projectiles, and his own body as a battering ram. He took a graze to his thigh—the icy burn of wolfsbane, immediate—but didn’t stop. He’s not letting them get a clear shot at Stiles.

The forklift, with Stiles screaming a battle cry that was mostly swear words, slammed into the rolling metal door of the storage area. It buckled but didn’t break.

“AGAIN!” Theo yelled, ducking a swipe from a rifle butt.

Stiles reversed, gears grinding, and slammed forward again. This time, the door gave way with a metallic shriek. Inside, stacked to the ceiling, were barrels and crates stamped with wolfsbane symbols.

“Stiles! Now!” Theo, with a final, sweeping kick that took the legs out from under the last standing hunter, sprinted toward the forklift.

Stiles had already nudged one of the large hazard drums into the doorway. He fumbled in his pocket, pulled out a lighter, and looked at Theo with manic, wide eyes, the cogs in his head working as he took in the chimera’s form. “I’m starting to think this might be a terrible idea!”

”JUST FUCKING DO IT!”

Stiles lit a rag stuffed into the drum’s cap and shoved the whole thing into the wolfsbane storage with the forklift’s prongs.

“GO GO GO GO!”

They ran. Behind them, a whump of ignition, then a roar as flames met dried wolfsbane. The effect wasn’t explosive, but it was voracious. Green-tinged fire began to devour the storage room, thick, toxic smoke billowing out.

They were almost to the jagged opening of the south loading bay door. Freedom was a gray rectangle of daylight. A support beam, weakened by the fire or the earlier impacts, gave way with a terrifying, screeching groan. Theo’s instinct was to bodily shove Stiles forward through the opening into the daylight.

“FUCK— THEO!”

The massive, falling support beam didn’t hit him. But the sheer section of collapsing ceiling and debris it brought down did. A rain of heavy cinder blocks and sharp metal caught his shoulder and side, knocking the breath from his lungs and slamming him hard to the concrete floor. Dust and toxic smoke instantly choked the air. Pain, hot and deep, radiated agonizingly from his ribs. The wolfsbane graze on his thigh pulsed with cold, sickening fire.

He heard Stiles yelling his name, the sound muffled by the roar of the fire and the ringing in his ears.

Then, through the swirling dust, she’s there, standing beside him, staring at him with her dead eyes and emotionless expression. She’s no longer at the edge of his vision, she stood despite the falling ash. Clear as day.

Theo stared.

It felt like time had either sped up violently or slowed to an agonizing crawl. Theo didn’t know how long he laid there, staring at his personal ghost. The thick, acrid smell of burning wolfsbane burned his lungs. His world swam violently as the spreading heat of the fire became intense, engulfing him in what felt like the real version of his hell.

“THEO, MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASS!” Stiles’ voice cut through the air as he went through Tara’s apparition.

The chimera blinked, there was Stiles, not running through the trees, but stumbling back into the burning, collapsing warehouse, bat in hand, face covered in soot and sheer, stubborn terror. “What the hell are you doing?” Theo croaked.

“What does it look like? Saving your sorry ass!” Stiles hooked his hands under Theo’s arms and heaved. He groaned and almost toppled over if it weren’t for pure adrenaline, “You weigh a fuck ton! Help me out here!”

With a grunt of agony, Theo forced his feet beneath him. They staggered toward the light. Shots rang out behind them—the hunters, recovering, firing blindly through the smoke. They burst out of the warehouse and into the cool air of the woods. Theo’s leg buckled, the combined poison and injury too much. Stiles barely kept him upright, slinging Theo’s arm over his shoulders.

“Truck… that way…” Theo gasped, pointing.

“I know where the truck is!” Stiles grunted, half-dragging, half-carrying him over the rough ground. “Did you get shot?”

Theo groaned again, the wolfsbane-laced bullet that had grazed his thigh making its presence known with an icy, spreading paralysis. He tried to pull his own weight, but it was more of a lurching stumble. With a wrong heave and a poorly placed tree stump, they were sprawling down onto the dry earth. Behind them, shouts and the aggressive crackle of the fully engaged fire grew louder, consuming the building.

Theo can still see Tara’s face, a little too close, a little too real.

Stiles, determined, scrambled up and started pulling.

”Just go,” Theo gritted out, defeat heavy in his voice.

“Shut up!” Stiles snapped, his voice raw with effort. “Just shut up and try being less of a baggage!”

“I’m slowing us down.” Each word dragged like a knife through his side. The poison was slowly crawling up his system, amplified by the lungful of wolfsbane-infused smoke he had just breathed. He could feel the painful pulse of every injury he had.

Stiles stopped and turned, his eyes rapidly studying Theo’s catastrophic situation and then sweeping across their surroundings. He should know by now that leaving Theo and running away was the only logical choice; the odds of them both getting out weren’t in their favor. If not dying, the worst thing that would happen to Theo was to be captured, tortured, or even used as leverage (hah, imagine).

But instead of letting go, Stiles’ grip hardened. He started dragging them with a sudden, desperate strength toward a massive fallen trunk, large enough to conceal the two of them behind it for a few minutes, maybe seconds.

“Are you…” Theo gritted, the words tasting of metal and smoke. “Crazy or just stupid?”

“You’ve done your research on me; you should know well by now that I can be both.” Stiles couldn’t help but retort, even while his breath hitched with exertion. He harshly yanked Theo’s pant leg, causing a painful, bitten-off groan from the Chimera. “Or maybe I’m way past that, because why in the hell am I not just leaving your sorry ass?” He continued, furiously wrapping his flannel tightly around Theo’s wounded thigh, securing it as a makeshift pressure bandage. “But no, I just have to prove you wrong. You hear that, Raeken? I’m proving you wrong.”

Theo stared, confused, the pain and wolfsbane fogging his brain. “What?”

“You said I’d leave you when necessary. Naturally, I take full offense on that.” Stiles panted, resuming his desperate, clumsy, barely-first-aid work on Theo’s leg. A harsh press made Theo see black blood seeping out from his minor wound. “So you better eat my shit, Raeken, because to hell am I leaving you right now.”

Furious, Theo took a fistfull of Stiles’ shirt and yanked him close, teeth bared and snarled. “We did this to avoid Liam being the leverage. You planning to take his place?”

Stiles, completely unimpressed by the supernatural threat, deliberately pressed hard on Theo’s wound. The Chimera immediately let go and grounded out a fresh sound of agony. “There’s plenty more where that came from,” Stiles threatened with an annoying, closed-mouth smile before yanking Theo, forcing him to stand up and move. “One foot after the other, Raeken.”

Theo’s world spun, his insides burning, but he chose to feel offended. “I’m in pain, not drunk. I know how to god damn walk.”

“Could’ve fooled me with how invalid you are right now.”

“If you’re just going to bitch about my dead weight, you could’ve just left me at the warehouse.” Theo snapped, almost tumbling down after a mild spasm ripped through his leg.

Stiles grunted and gripped Theo tightly, catching their collective balance at the last minute. “Trying not to think why I didn’t.” He panted due to too much exertion, sweat rolling down the side of his soot smudged face.

A bullet whizz passed them causing Stiles to duck out of reflex. It hit a tree a few meters away from them, throwing splinters to the air. “Over there!” A voice yelled from behind.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” Stiles panicked, doubling his efforts. Theo could hear Stiles’ heartbeat, running erratically, almost dangerously fast.

“You need to let go.” Theo gasped.

“Shut up.”

Another bullet whizzed past them, dangerously close to Stiles’ head this time.

“Let go, you’re—” A choked gasp tore from Theo’s throat. “You’re not proving, any… Anything to anyone. Let. Go.”

“And I told you to eat my— FUCK!”

Theo had pushed Stiles hard off course, sending him tumbling down a steep incline. Three catastrophic things happened all at once: Stiles fell, rolling away; Theo got shot in the back shoulder—a searing new wave of pain—and Stiles, in his desperate descent, snagged Theo’s already compromised wolfsbane leg, dragging them both violently down the steep slope in a tangled mess of limbs and dirt.

When he reached the bottom, Theo stayed on the ground, his body convulsing. Pain shot through his system—from the ribs, the poisoned thigh, and the new bullet wound—once, twice, three times before he could feel Stiles’ hand hauling him into a sitting position. Stiles was equally battered: his forehead was bleeding, and raw scratches lined his freckled face.

“Not dead yet?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide and frantic, scanning Theo for damage.

Tara was standing behind him, a silent grim reminder to Theo. “Unfortunately, no.” He replied instead, his voice a ragged whisper.

“They fell through there!” A voice cut through the air.

Theo was just tired now—so profoundly, devastatingly tired of Stiles’ hardheadedness, tired of everyone suddenly going after Liam, tired of fear and paranoia mixing together until he felt nauseous. “You need to go,” Theo threatened, pulling out his claws and grabbing Stiles’ neck, putting just enough pressure to scar, enough to scare. “This time, I’m not asking.”

Stiles only stared at him, surprised at first, before determination slowly painting his face, “Then do it,” he challenged his voice steady despite the claw tips digging into his skin. “I dare you.”

They stared at each other, two battered forms, one supernatural and one desperately human, waiting to see which would break first. The stench of smoke wafted through the air as distant, echoing voices yelled, closing in, searching for them.

That was until Theo heard it. Extra heartbeats. Multiple, heavy, running pulses, one of which was too familiar to Theo, that the apparition of Tara instantly vanished. His grip unconsciously loosened on Stiles’ neck as his brain slowly began to realize what was happening.

“Stiles?! Theo?!” The Sheriff’s voice boomed nearby, authoritative and laced with alarm. His weapon was held up in both hands.

“Dad?” Stiles yelled, his head snapping toward the voice. His face broke open with such profound relief when he saw his father’s familiar figure. His shoulder dropped instantly, shedding away all tension. “Oh god, am I so glad to see you!”

Before the Sheriff could even start running toward them, Liam had bounded past everyone and darted his way through the trees. He dropped right in front of Theo’s shocked, pain-racked face, a folded handkerchief tightly wrapped over his nose, his mind still having a hard time grasping the surreal chaos.

Words were exchanged between the Sheriff and Stiles—information transferred, messages via the two-way radio passed on, and orders barked out—before Theo, despite the searing pain, finally had the capacity to get caught up. The immediate realization of Liam’s presence spiked his anger and anxiety to levels he did not know could reach.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Theo hissed at Liam’s face.

”What am I? What are you doing here?!” Liam countered back just as mad, voice slightly muffled by the thin cloth covering his nose and mouth. “Tell me why my mom had called me in the middle of lacrosse practice, asking why the Sheriff was calling your phone that you left back at the house?”

Theo ignored the question altogether, his focus narrowing on the immediate threat. “Do you have a death wish?” he demanded, trying to hammer home the dire situation—that Liam was now standing exactly where the hunters wanted him.

“Do you?” Liam asked, rounding the question right back at him.

Before Theo could reply, his body convulsed again, a full-body spasm that made his head snap back. He bit his lip hard as he waited for the pain to run its brutal course. Distantly, Theo thought that this couldn’t just be wolfsbane; the chemical must have been tampered with, improved. It was as if Monroe wasn't just stocking up; she was fucking improving it.

“What the hell’s happening?” Liam asked, frantic, heartbeat beating erratically in Theo’s ears.

“What else, Sherlock? I’m in pain” Theo gritted.

“Either shut up or convulse in silence.” Stiles deadpanned before looking at Liam. “Shot twice; one grazed his leg, the other hit him on his back. The warehouse fell over him as well. Inhaled a shit ton of wolfsbane.” He rambled, counting off one finger after another.

“And you?” The sheriff asked, eyeing his son sharply.

“Uhh, I crashed a forklift.” Stiles answered, trying for casualness. “Deliberately.”

A static noise was heard on the Sheriff’s two-way radio. Theo was too hazy in pain to listen in on the whole conversation, only bits and pieces, something about Scott and Parrish reaching the warehouse and detaining some of the hunters.

He felt a hand pull up his sleeves and wrap around his wrist. Theo blinked and looked down to see Liam glaring at Theo’s hand, his brows furrowed in concentration. But nothing happened; Theo remained paralyzed by pain as the whole world spun around him.

“Dude, c’mon,” Stiles said in disappointment. “I thought you already got it?”

”I do, I do!” Liam replied, frantic. “Just gimmie a minute!” He yelled, his frustration mounting.

You have to care.

Oh.

It was as if the world dropped out from under him, and nothing was there to catch him. Emotions were such a nuisance. Theo didn't know what to feel first: the searing pain emotionally, or physically. Both were seizing him up from head to toe.

“You really need to get a hang with your skills, dude.” Stiles, again, unhelpfully commented.

“Shut up! You’re stressing me out.” Liam snapped, his voice tight, before cursing under his breath. He let go of Theo’s hand before yanking him forcefully by the collar, yanking the handkerchief down to his chin. “Don’t punch me for this,” was all he said to prepare Theo for what the Beta was about to do next.

He crashed both of their lips together.

Stiles winced dramatically. “I’m gonna turn around.” He said before promptly turning around and falling sideways due to exhaustion. “Never mind, this is better.”

For a second, Theo’s brain short-circuited entirely. He felt the sudden, shocking pressure of Liam’s mouth, then the tentative foray of Liam’s tongue. His own mouth became pliant against the Beta’s clumsy ministrations, but what truly registered was the pain slowly, miraculously, ebbing away through his mouth. A distant memory of Liam kissing Hayden’s pain away resurfaced at the back of his mind, clarifying the inexplicable act.

With sudden, powerful vigor, Theo pushed up and kissed back, opening his mouth fully as he tangled his tongue against Liam’s. The Beta made a surprised, soft noise in the back of his throat, about to pull back, when Theo’s arms shot up from his sides to grab a desperate hold of Liam’s waist, locking him there.

Theo didn’t just kiss back; he took over. His tongue swept past Liam’s lips, making the beta shiver, not just seeking the pain but tasting him—the faint sweetness of breakfast, the sharp tang of adrenaline, the uniquely warm, earthy scent that was purely Liam. It was demanding, possessive, a raw claim that left no room for hesitation. One of Theo’s hands came up to cradle the back of Liam’s head, fingers tangling in his hair to hold him in place, while the other pressed firmly against the base of his spine, arching him closer, pressing their bodies closer.

The pain was a distant memory, replaced by a rising, urgent heat. Theo could feel Liam’s heartbeat hammering against his own, a frantic rhythm that matched the pulse he could feel pounding elsewhere. Liam’s initial stiffness melted into a shaky, responsive pliancy. His own hands, which had been hovering awkwardly, had taken a firm grip on Theo’s shirt, pulling at the hem. The kiss grew wetter, messier, a shared breath that was more gasp than sigh. It was less about healing and more about a word Theo doesn’t know what to name, a sudden, dizzying plunge into a feeling too long restrained.

He could do this forever.

“Ahem.”

The sound—a single, sharp, clearing of the throat—was instantly recognizable. It was the sound Sheriff Stilinski made when he was processing something wildly inappropriate in his vicinity.

Liam frantically pulled back, cutting their liplock with a wet pop as he snapped his head toward the Sheriff’s direction. “It’s not what it looks like.” Liam defended instantly, his voice high.

The Sheriff only gave an unimpressed stare.

“You just gonna kiss anyone who’s in pain, Dunbar?” Theo asked. Reality—the smell of smoke, the damp forest floor, the sight of Stiles sprawled on the ground, and the very immediate, very judgmental presence of the Sheriff—slammed into him. He tried his best to achieve an impossible air of nonchalance, but the breathless edge betrayed him.

“I-I’m working on it!” Liam exclaimed, blushing furiously down to his neck. “It works fine when I’m not pressured!”

“Please, as if you didn’t enjoy it.” Stiles commented, still on the ground, still mercifully not facing them, looking oddly relaxed as the noise from the burning warehouse faded into a distant hum.

“Shut up, Stiles!” Liam hissed mortified.

Theo, on his side, tried not to let out an embarrassed groan, a groan that had nothing to do with pain and everything to do with mortification. He released Liam’s waist, his arms suddenly heavy and weak now that the pain was gone. Instead, he simply collapsed forward, face planting on the crook of Liam’s shoulder.

Liam froze, his heart still racing wildly, though this time he wasn't sure if it was adrenaline or something else entirely. “Theo?”

Theo inhaled a slow, deep breath, relishing the clean, pain-free air filling his lungs for the first time in what felt like hours. “Just five seconds,” he mumbled into Liam’s shoulder, his voice thick with relief and bone-deep fatigue.

“Five seconds for what?” Liam asked.

Just five seconds to let me be this close to you. Just five seconds to let me rest against you. Just five seconds to let me breathe. Just five seconds to let me feel your heartbeat without the distance.

Just five seconds before I have to pretend.

Theo said none of those.

Instead, he said; “Before I pass out.”

Theo felt Liam tense up just as the Chimera's vision dissolved into black.

Chapter Text

Theo’s consciousness came and went, a turbulent cycle of pain and disorientation.

Sometimes the waking was gentle, sometimes it was agonizingly forceful, once almost involving Stiles’ bat if it weren’t for Deaton requesting for his bleeding head to get out of here.

Theo wondered if he hallucinated a specific detail from the sheer intensity of the pain, but he was certain of a fact that had bothered him through every brief period of lucidity: all the times he woke up, Tara was absent. And a very specific heartbeat he knew by heart was always faintly heard nearby, seemingly keeping the apparition at bay.

When Theo finally woke up for good, he realized he wasn’t wearing his shirt, and the left leg of his jeans had been cleanly ripped away right up to his thigh injury. The injury that didn't seem to exist anymore, with his skin looking entirely unscathed.

He was in Deaton’s surgery room, lying on top of the metal gurney, completely alone as he stared at the familiar space. The silence, although something he had grown accustomed to in recent months, was suddenly jarring compared to the ear splitting noise he woke up a couple of times to. Theo briefly wondered if some of that noise was from his own screaming.

Sitting up, he was quick to notice that he hadn't fully recovered; his body felt leaden and heavy, and a brutal wave of nausea hit his head with such force that Theo had to grip the sides of the gurney to balance himself. Taking a measured breath, Theo carefully felt for his wounds, needing to know how his external injuries had healed seeing how anything internal was still in the process of it.

He was in the middle of feeling his back shoulder when he sensed Deaton's arrival—not heard, but sensed—as the veterinarian walked through the door, carrying what seemed to be freshly folded clothes and a pair of new inexpensive, loose fitting pants.

“Raeken,” The vet greeted, his voice calm and levelled. “I see you’ve finally decided to join the land of the living.”

“How long was I out?” Theo asked instead, staring at the druid.

“A little over eighteen hours,” Deaton simply replied, handing the clothes to Theo. The Chimera silently accepted it, pulling on the t-shirt without any prompt from the older man. “How are things with your sister going?”

Theo was in the middle of pulling up his new pants when the question was asked, making him freeze instantly. He stared at the vet, the fabric bunched at his hips. “What?”

“It hasn’t been that long since you’ve last been here, asking if I can see your sister standing right behind you,” Deaton answered, his tone factual, immediately reminding Theo of those frantic months ago when Tara’s apparitions started, a week, probably days, after the war ended.

“Do you see her?” Theo asked, gripping his hand into tight fists as he asked the question, staring desperately at the Druid. “My sister, do you see her?”

Deaton briefly stared past the Chimera before returning his gaze, his expression neutral. “I see no such person, most definitely not your long-dead sister.”

Theo shook his head, his voice strained with panic due to long sleepless nights, feeling her gaze on him each time he closed his eyes. “No, no,” he insisted. “She’s older, the one—The one down under.”

Deaton only stared at him, face blank and unreadable. “I don’t see anyone, Theo.”

Theo grit his teeth in frustration, the lack of control driving him. “Then what is this? A curse? How do I fix this? I need not to fucking see her.” He can’t deal with this, not yet, not when he couldn’t understand himself lately.

“I am a veterinarian,” Deaton simply answered, his gaze unwavering. “I am not that kind of doctor, Theo.”

Theo’s eyebrows furrowed, confused. “Why the hell do I need a doctor for? My healing factor works just fine.”

Deaton only stared at him with a look that Theo interpreted as pity, and it instantly irritated the Chimera. What he needed wasn't pity; what he needed was for his sister to not look at him, to not show up behind him, to fucking stop following him.

“You need to talk to someone.” Deaton answered.

Theo stared at him as if a sledgehammer had just slapped him across the face, immediately understanding what the Druid was implying. His initial shock was quickly replaced by misplaced irritation. “Well, this is just a fucking waste of time,” he spat before marching out of the clinic, slamming the door hard as he left.

Theo blinked and leaned his hip against the gurney, hearing the wheels stop against the stopper’s friction with a small, metallic squeak. Wondering if putting up a mask was still worth the effort, or if he should just finally let his mouth talk without the fear of being judged or pitied scaring him. Theo didn’t feel like he needed to prove anything to Deaton.

It had been a long, long time since he felt like he didn’t have to prove anything to anyone.

“She doesn’t…” Theo started, staring at the aggressively clean, polished floors of Deaton’s clinic. “—Bother me as much as before. Found a temporary solution.”

“A temporary solution isn’t a solution,” Deaton told him, his tone flat with certainty. And Theo knew that, he knew fully well. “Anything temporary can lead to obsession. And obsessions aren’t something that should be a driving force for you to live, to function.”

Theo rubbed a frustrated hand over his face, “I bet you get off from being this all knowing person while being very vague about the main point,” he said, but the jibe didn’t faze Deaton even by an inch. Something that Theo already expected.

“I know you’re not a dumb boy, nor a stupid stupid man,” Deaton continued, ignoring the bait. “You know what I mean, and you know full well what I am implying.”

Theo exhaled heavily and placed both hands behind him on the gurney, letting his full weight be carried by the cold metal surface. “I know,” he answered before staring up at the acoustic tiles of the ceiling, as if expecting the truth to be written there. “I just… I’ve never slept so well.” His back hurt every time he woke up, and he still felt heavy, but to sleep without the choking nightmares, without the crushing guilt, without seeing the chilling memory of the morgue and his sister’s hand thrusted in his chest... A sore back was better than waking up with his heart racing, a silent scream trapped in his throat.

“And handing someone the responsibility of your sanity is an advice that should not be tolerated, Theo,” Deaton countered, his voice losing none of its calm weight. “It is a hard endeavor to learn what it is to become a person at the age of nineteen, after having most of your life stripped away of humanity. While carrying a decade’s worth of baggage from a person with no remorse.”

Deaton stepped closer, his hands resting on the stainless steel counter. “It is confusing, suffocating, and frustrating to try and find an identity after everything. I wouldn’t fault you for unconsciously latching onto something just to ground yourself, trying to avoid from slipping away—.”

“What the hell are you trying to prove here?” Theo snapped, getting pissed off from Deaton’s excessive words. Words that hit him far too close to home.

Deaton squared up and stared at the Chimera, “I’m not demanding you to change your approach on living, I’m merely trying to remind you that I’ve suggested a safer option before.”

You need to talk to someone.

Theo scoffed, his anger cooling into cynical defiance. “Oh yeah? How should I do that?” he challenged. He knew the obvious problem was staring at them: there wasn't a person capable or even closely qualified enough to talk to Theo—not with his past, not with his choices, not with the murders he committed and the laws he’d broken. The silence from Deaton confirmed his isolation.

Slowly, the vet pocketed his hands into his lab coat. “Start off easy then. Learning isn’t something that’s meant to be done alone.”

Theo frowned, the advice feeling both useless and impossibly profound. “Right,” he said, pushing himself fully off the gurney, his new pants swishing faintly. “Thanks for keeping me alive, but I’m done here.”

The Chimera already had his hand by the door when the Druid called him one last time, making him stop on his tracks, the door handle already turned, ready to be pushed open.

“For what it's worth, there are people who now think your life isn't expendable.” Deaton stated, his voice quiet but carrying. “You should too.”

Theo left the clinic without looking back, the slam of the door signaling his departure.

Unsurprisingly, Deaton did not follow him. Theo stepped out into the humid air feeling too big for his own skin, a restlessness vibrating in his bones that he couldn't shake. He turned to find his truck parked haphazardly at the curb. It took him exactly five seconds to decide, he climbed in and drove toward the one place he usually avoided: the McCall residence.

He still didn’t have his phone, but he was gambling on the hope that Scott was home and—more importantly—available.

When Theo reached the porch and knocked, it wasn't Scott who opened the door. It was Stiles.

“Hey, look at that. You’re vertical,” He greeted, leaning against the door frame as he closed his arms over his chest. “You know, for a guy with hyper-healing, you spent an awfully long time not waking up.”

Theo had a dozen retorts lined up: that his Chimera healing wasn’t as good as a natural werewolf’s, that the wolfsbane that poisoned him was different, that eighteen hours was a perfectly reasonable recovery time for a synthetic supernatural werecreature like him.

But the words died in his throat.

He looked at the gauze taped messily on Stiles’ forehead. He saw the network of angry red scratches and yellowing bruises across his face. Most of all, his eyes locked onto Stiles’s neck—the skin was bruised and marred by small, crescent-shaped nicks where Theo’s own claws had dug in.

Theo just stared.

Stiles’s brow furrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his face. “What?” he snapped. “You’ve literally beaten the consciousness out of me before. Are you actually starting to feel bad about it now?”

“That was deliberate,” Theo replied, forcing his voice to remain flat and devoid of emotion, even as his skin felt inexplicably too tight. Before his thoughts could spiral, he subtly shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets, jerking his chin toward the side of Stiles’ neck.

“I don’t remember making that one, though,” he pointed out. He indicated a specific patch of dark discoloration tucked under the curve of Stiles’s jaw, poorly concealed by the high collar of his flannel.

The reaction was instantaneous. A deep, vivid crimson crept up the brunette’s neck, flooding his face in seconds.

“Fuck,” Stiles cursed under his breath, yanking the heavy fabric higher.

“Does Lydia know about that?” Theo questioned, finally managing to plaster a familiar, smug smile onto his face. “Or did she finally clue you in about Derek?”

Stiles glared at him with an intensity that could bore through his head. “I’m going to put a pin in that, Raeken. A very large, very permanent pin.” He took a breath, trying to reclaim some shred of dignity. “Why the hell are you even here?”

“We’re at Scott’s house. Obviously, I’m here for McCall,” Theo replied dryly, as if talking to a dumb five year old.

Stiles rolled his eyes with enough force to look painful, but he stepped back, creating just enough space for Theo to cross the entrance. “Should’ve left you at the warehouse to burn.” Stiles muttered, his voice low as he shut the door behind them, Theo brushing past him.

Theo didn't stop walking, but he tossed a smirk over his shoulder. “But how would you have proven me wrong then?”

Stiles let out an indignant hiss, “Walked straight into that one, didn’t I?”

Alec wasn’t anywhere in the house, Theo can’t help but notice. His expression must’ve shown enough because Stiles was quick to tell him that since he was out of commission, Derek took on the temporary role for the meantime. The knowledge briefly bothered Theo, he knew Derek had mellowed down over the years and had a rather nicer approach on things, but then remembered how Derek had a much better hand on handling emotions than Theo could ever have.

“Theo,” Scott called from the dining table. The surface was buried under a landslide of files—some from Theo’s own research while some weren’t, probably from Scott’s dad. Scott’s face morphed into genuine surprise as he looked up. “Hey, hi, you’re up, how are you feeling?”

Theo frowned, genuinely confused by the inquiry. “You don’t have to play nice, McCall. I’m not dead, obviously,” he replied, pulling out the opposite chair and taking a seat. Stiles made a silent beeline for the fridge in the background.

Scott’s expression shifted, looking almost offended by the deflection. Behind them, Stiles let out a subtle, wheezing laugh as he cracked open an energy drink. “What? No,” Scott insisted. “Deaton told me the wolfsbane that hit your leg and shoulder was a little different. More, well… dangerous.”

“I’ll tell you if I start growing a second head or if I feel anything worth telling,” Theo replied flatly.

Scott’s frown deepened, his gaze lingering on Theo to the point it somewhat almost became physically uncomfortable. “That’s not what I— Theo, I’m asking if you are okay.”

“And I just told you I’m not dead,” Theo replied, gesturing wholly to himself as if to make a point. “I already deal small talks with Liam’s parents on a daily. Don’t add yourself to the list.”

Scott threw Stiles a look to which the other teen only made a jerk-ish guesture, as if to say ‘Hey, don’t look at me’. Scott blinked a few times, physically trying to shake off his frown, before taking a steadying breath and finally acknowledging the mountain of paperwork cluttering his dining table.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Scott began, pivoting to a safer topic. “Stiles and I have been cross-referencing your research with some of data he pulled from the warehouse. It’s… it’s actually impressive, Theo. We’ve narrowed down several of Monroe's staging grounds outside Beacon Hills. My dad is already coordinating with Argent to scout them.”

Theo threw Stiles a look when the teen took the seat beside his best friend. Realizing why Stiles took his sweet time with the computer before smashing the servers into scrap metal.

“What?” The human asked challengingly, “They had files on all of us. I had to make a copy.”

“Look, Theo, I know we didn’t see eye-to-eye about the warehouse, or about—” Scott started up again, and Theo felt the sudden, suffocating urge to kill the sentiment before it could breathe.

“I honestly don't really care if you're mad about what I did. I didn’t come here for that,” Theo said, earning him an almost baffled look from the Alpha after being cut off mid-sentence.

Eighteen hours might not be that long but it’s enough for a discussion, either about their reckless rogue mission or about Monroe. If they prioritized the more significant problem, Theo had more or less assumed they'd already discussed their progress about Monroe while he was out, rather than be pressed about his and Stiles’ impromptu operation.

Theo didn’t need this talk with Scott. Consequences can be dealt later.

“Oh,” Scott blinked, casting a brief, confused glance at Stiles, who just raised his eyebrows and took a long, loud sip from his energy drink. “What is it, then?”

There’s no easy way to start the conversation. It didn’t matter how much he tried to phrase it differently. The topic was just too weighted and imposing to find a nicer approach. Theo leaned forward, planting his elbows on the table and intertwining his fingers. He stared at the scattered papers, his eyes tracing the lines of text without actually seeing them.

“I’m Liam’s anchor, aren’t I?” Theo finally said, acknowledging the very thought he tried to ignore.

It’s not a Buddhist mantra, or an ex-girlfriend anymore. At some point since Theo came back from hell, he became Liam’s unknowing anchor.

Him. Theo goddamn Raeken, had become Liam’s anchor.

Stiles choked on his drink, a violent coughing fit erupting from the chair beside Scott. He was, without a doubt, completely ignored by the other two.

Scott’s face went still, his expression carefully schooled. The question had clearly caught him off guard, but he didn’t look shocked. As if Theo asking that question wasn’t a surprise, but a dreaded inevitability instead.

“How long have you known?” Scott asked quietly.

Theo shrugged, “I was too busy denying it.”

It’s why Stiles reacted that way to Liam’s sudden control of his anger when Theo was first being interrogated here. It’s why Liam can suddenly do his biology homework on the floor of Theo’s room in the middle of a full moon. Why Liam preferred to stay in his room than join Scott and Alec on a lunar cycle. Why the pack was all too willing to let Liam take Theo in his home. And why the nightmares seem to disappear when Theo’s near.

It’s like a colossal joke, but nothing about it was funny.

Theo leant back, acting with faux nonchalance as he did so, finally returning Scott’s stare. “Since when have I been his anchor?”

“For a while now,” Scott replied, his voice soft but resonant. “He managed to pin it down during the war. When you influenced to stop him from killing Gabe at the locker’s room.”

Theo stilled, remembering that very certain event like it happened not long ago. Killing had never been a problem for Theo; he knew the weight of a life ending, and had felt it under his own claws over and over again.

But Liam didn’t.

That simple knowledge was what had driven Theo to knock Liam unconscious at the zoo to save Nolan, and it was what had made him step between Liam and a definitive, soul-crushing mistake with Gabe.

Theo, somehow, didn’t want Liam to feel that kind of burden.

The irony was devastatingly funny.

Theo let out a dry, jagged scoff, but there was no humor in it. “That has got to be the single most stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “And I killed my own sister because three immortal lunatics told me it would make me special.”

“Liam didn’t really choose it to happen consciously.” Scott supplied, his tone calm, almost steadying.

“I manipulated him into trying to murder you so that I could kill him,” Theo reminded the Alpha, the memory surfacing like a jagged piece of glass. He wanted Scott to flinch. He wanted him to remember exactly who he was talking to. “I kill people, Scott.” He’s by far the most unfit person to handle someone’s humanity together, most importantly someone with an explosive anger disorder.

“Oh, believe us, we are fully aware of the irony of it.” Stiles interjected comically. “Why did you think we never told you?” Theo got nothing to say to that. “None of us were exactly throwing a party when we realized it. But against all logic, and believe me, I’ve checked the math—you’re the only thing that works. You’re the best anchor he’s got by far.”

“Stiles,” Scott warned, a subtle attempt to keep his best friend from showing their hand too early.

“What?” Stiles gestured with fake innocence, though his eyes remained sharp. “He’s not gonna be able to use it against us, Scott. Not when he’ll just be throwing himself under the same bus if he does.”

A different kind of dread ran through Theo’s spine. This was it, an exchange. Theo had acknowledged the fragile subject of him being Liam’s anchor, a knowledge that is too loaded, if known by the wrong people, will end up horrifying for them. And frankly, trust and Theo were two words that don’t correlate.

Trust was a foreign language, and every piece of information was a currency.

Theo can’t just have this knowledge and not exchange it for something with an equal weight. And it just so happens that he does.

It’s weird though, seeing Scott’s clueless reaction and looking back on the whole conversation, Stiles hadn't jumped the gun to inform his best friend about Theo’s vulnerability. It’s as if he’s giving him the floor to let him say it himself.

The idea somewhat bothered him, he just didn’t know if it’s a good or a bad thing. He didn't know if Stiles was showing him mercy or setting a trap, the uncertainty was terrifying.

“What?” Scott questioned, looking between the two of them, knowing that something was going on but was unable to understand the point Stiles was implying.

Stiles gave Theo an expectant look. “An eye for an eye, dude.” He said, before adding; “Or would you rather I say it?” As if challenging the Chimera.

“Don’t call me dude.” Theo replied with a slight bite, giving the human a heated glare, the nickname somehow more grating to his ears.

Theo leaned back, his chair creaking under the weight. He licked his lips, suddenly finding his throat dry and his tongue heavy. It was a foreign feeling, one he still didn’t know yet what to call. “Whatever I say here stays between us.” He requested, deliberately boring his eyes toward Stiles’ direction.

The chimera waited for the other two to acknowledge the request, with Scott nodding and Stiles miming to zip his mouth shut.

“A target on Liam’s head is against every reason why I stayed here,” Theo finally said, his gaze fixed on the sterile lines of print on the files covering the table.

Scott blinked—once, twice—before the realization finally slammed home. The second he processed the implication, the Alpha surged to his feet, his chair scraping harshly against the floor. His mouth hung slightly ajar, eyes wide and boring into the Chimera. The sudden spike of his heartbeat was like a loud drum grating Theo’s ears.

“Liam,” Scott said, his voice hard. It wasn't accusatory, but it carried a weight Theo wasn't prepared for. “You stayed for Liam.”

It wasn’t a question, but the silence Theo offered was a definitive answer. Scott began to pace the small radius of the dining room, a hand pressed over his mouth. His eyes darted around as if he were sifting through years of memories, connecting one dot after another.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” Scott whipped his head toward Stiles.

Stiles raised his hand in a gesture of mock surrender. “Hey, for the longest time, I just had a hunch,” He defended, “Until yesterday. Theo and I had a forceful heart to heart, you see.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, remembering that conversation being very far less sentimental than that.

“I said forceful," Stiles added, seeing Theo’s reaction.

“How? Why?” Scott asked, his voice manic, as if unable to see it. “If… well, you don’t mind me asking.”

“Dude, don’t add that.” Stiles bemoaned, “You’re a true Alpha, act like it. Your politeness bothers me so much, man.”

Theo did mind, because those two questions were something he didn't know what to answer. How did it become Liam? And why was it Liam? Theo doesn’t know, he doesn’t have the answer to that. He knew exactly when the shift happened, but the internal logic of it remained a black box.

“I don’t know.” Theo answered flatly.

“What?” Stiles exclaimed the same time Scott face twisted in confusion, “What do you mean you don’t know?”

“It’s exactly what I said. I don’t know.” Theo snapped, oddly feeling backed up in a corner. He’s never discussed this out in the open. “I kept him away from being taken by the Ghost Riders, and somehow it just… stuck that way alright?”

Stiles and Scott exchanged glasses, eyes darting and pointing, eyebrows moving as if talking in a language Theo can’t understand. After finding out a bomb of a news and confessing his vulnerability in one conversation, Theo’s feeling rather conflicted when the two were acting like this.

It was a rather surreal experience.

Stiles suddenly leveled Theo a stare. “Do you… you know, on Liam?”

Theo’s eyes narrowed. “I what?”

“Because if it is, there’s like a whole mountain range of issues we need to unpack here. More importantly you and your emotionally stunted self, and this is coming from a person who's dealt with an emotionally depressed werewolf for the better part of high school.” Stiles rambled. “And I’m not judging, but you’re not technically the model for mental stability here, not after I’ve seen you run head first into the crossfire, like c’mon dude—”

“Stiles,” Scott hissed, making the human stop on his unstoppable tirade. It was then that they noticed the genuine blank look on Theo’s face.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Theo asked. The absolute, unvarnished cluelessness in his voice was so palpable it actually stalled the air in the room.

Stiles and Scott shared a quick, silent look before the Alpha gave a miniscule shake of his head—a clear signal: not the time yet.

“Okay, let’s...” Scott started, reclaiming his seat and trying to pull the conversation back into some semblance of order. “Let's back-pedal a bit.” He placed both hands flat on the table, centering himself before meeting Theo’s eyes. “Is Liam an anchor to you?”

“I don’t need anchors.” Theo answered flatly, a statement of biological fact.

“But…?” Stiles asked, elongating the word, as if expecting that there was more of it.

“But nothing.” Theo replied unimpressed, “The Doctors made—”

“Dread Doctors.” Stiles interjected.

“—me to not need…” Theo paused, his brain finally registering the interruption. He shot Stiles a sharp, annoyed look. “What?”

“Dread Doctors.” Stiles repeated with a shrug. “Liam told us you might need to be corrected sometimes. Anyway, continue.” He added with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Theo stared at him for a second long, taking the message by surprise. He blinked twice to remove the initial shock and return to his topic. “Like I said, I don’t need an anchor. I’m made not to need one.”

Stiles stared at him calculatingly, as if knowing that there was something else that Theo hadn't yet disclosed to them. But he didn’t push, didn’t press on the topic, somehow showing uncharasteristic, almost unnerving patience towards the person who hadn’t earned it.

“Why are you telling us this now?” Scott asked. His voice was gentle but the underlying Alpha authority was present. “I don't believe this is just a sudden leap of trust.”

Originally, Theo plans to talk to Scott and confront him just about Liam’s anchor. But the issue with the hunters and Deaton’s confrontation happened and his original plan had evolved into an exchange of intel. All because… well.

“Someone told me I should start talking,” Theo admitted, the words feeling like grit in his throat.

The two friends shared another loaded look.

“Look. Right now. My priority is… Liam.” Theo forced the words out, his tongue clumsy with a name it wasn't used to speaking in this context. “And I don’t know what's been going on in my head lately. In the future I might do something drastic just to keep him alive.”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed, immediately decoding the subtext. “You’re willing to put him over everyone.” He said, voice devoid of emotion.

It wasn’t said, but the message was there, Theo can, and is willing to sacrifice anyone if needed just to keep that one person alive.

“Is that how you feel?” Scott asked.

Theo took a deep breath, glancing a brief look on Stiles’ injured neck. “No.”

The word felt strange on his tongue. It was almost funny, because in this exact moment, he couldn’t actually see himself following through on that dark promise. He couldn’t imagine trading a life that doesn’t deserve it, just to balance the scales for Liam. There was a new, stubborn resistance in his chest that hadn't been there a year ago—a weight he didn't have a name for yet.

But he’s still Theo Raeken.

“But eventually?” he added, his voice regaining an edge as he looked back at Scott. “Maybe I would.”

Scott didn't look angry—he didn't even look surprised— and Theo didn’t know why that pissed him off. “You’re warning us about a version of yourself that doesn't exist yet,” Scott said softly.

“Don’t bet on that, McCall,” Theo retorted, standing up from the table. The movement was a bit too fast, a bit too eager to end the conversation. “I’m just telling you where the line is. If it comes down to Liam or the world... don’t expect me to choose the world.”

Stiles let out a long, slow whistle, tapping his energy drink against his chin. “Great. So we’ve gone from ‘I’m going to kill you all for power’ to ‘I might kill you all because I have a favorite.’ Progress? I guess?”

Theo ignored the jab, though it landed with more precision than he cared to admit. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, his posture stiffening as he headed for the door.

“Don’t forget,” he said, pausing at the threshold without turning around. “This stays between us.”

---

Theo still felt a little lightheaded, his body until now was healing everything internally, a slow grinding process that briefly made him wonder what in the hell Monroe was doing with those wolfbanes. He felt a dark, jagged sense of relief that he and Stiles had reduced that storage facility to ash.

He had just pulled into the Dunbar-Geyer driveway and killed the engine when a car—Mason’s— screeched to a halt at the curb. Before the tires had even stopped spinning, the passenger door flew open and a visibly furious Liam Dunbar got out from the passenger seat.

Theo climbed out of his truck, keys clutched in his palm, his brain still malfunctioning from exhaustion as he watched the Beta march across the pavement with predatory intent.

He didn't even have time to raise a hand before Liam’s fist collided with his face.

The force snapped Theo’s head back, his spine slamming into the side of the truck with a hollow metallic thud. The world tilted; the lightheadedness returned with a vengeance as his legs gave out, leaving him to slide down the side of the vehicle until he hit the concrete of the driveway.

Theo groaned in pain as he felt blood slowly drip down his nose, “Jesus fuck, Dunbar!” He wheezed, clutching his face. “The hell did I do to you?!”

“What did you do to me!?” Liam roared, parroting Theo’s words with a manic edge. He dropped into a crouch, forcing himself down to eye Theo’s level, “Are you that much of an asshole?” He added, Theo noted Mason had got out of the car as well and no one else, hovering at a distance with a look of stressed resignation. He wasn't interfering; he was just watching the explosion.

“You’re calling me an asshole when my nose’s bleeding from your fucking fist?” Theo bit back, his voice muffled by his hand.

Liam’s laugh was harsh and jagged, stripped of any actual humor. “Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you jerk,” he snapped. He reached out, fist bunching into the fabric of Theo’s borrowed shirt and yanking him forward, shaking him as if he could physically jostle some sense into Theo’s brain. “Did you seriously ask Stiles to leave you? Are you a fucking martyr?!” He roared, fist shaking in anger.

Friends.

In some distant, analytical part of his mind, Theo knew what that word meant. He knew—no matter how fleeting—how it felt to have one. A warm, foreign ache spread across his chest, the realization that his well-being actually mattered to Liam, even if that concern was currently manifesting as physical assault.

It was annoying.

It was also, quite literally, nauseating.

“Stop… shaking me.” Theo managed to wheeze. The order lacked its usual bite, sounding more like a desperate plea for air.

“The last time I saw you, you were screaming and fighting for your god damn life and suddenly your driving your truck like a fucking lunatic!” Liam continued to berate him. He yanked Theo’s collar back and forth with the raw, unchecked strength of a Beta with IED. “Do you even fucking know what you’re doing to me you ASSHOLE!”

The words began to blur, entering one ear and going out the other as Theo’s equilibrium finally shattered. His senses were tipping over into the red. “Liam, don’t—” he tried to warn him. He really did try.

But his limit had been reached and Theo found himself tipping forward as bile surged up his throat and before he could turn away, he was retching, the contents of his stomach raining down directly onto the front of Liam’s shirt.

“HOLY FUCK!” Liam yelped. The shock broke his rage instantly. He jerked back in disgust but didn't let go, catching Theo’s shoulders as the Chimera began to tilt sideways toward the pavement.

“Dude,” Mason unhelpfully commented, the disgust heard evidently in his voice.

Just then, the front door swung open. Jenna stepped out, still dressed in her work clothes, looking weary from her shift. “What is going on? What are you kids yelling about—” She froze the second she took in the scene: her son covered in vomit, a bleeding Chimera collapsing in the driveway, and Mason standing by like a stunned witness.

“Oh, god,” she breathed, her maternal instincts finally winning out over her shock.

Twenty minutes later, the chaos had been scrubbed away. Theo found himself freshly showered and changed, lying on the familiar softness of his bed. A cold compress was pressed firmly against his throbbing forehead, and though his eyes were closed, he was painfully awake. From the hallway, the rhythmic, muffled thumping of footsteps reached his ears

Liam was pacing. Again.

Theo mentally counted down from three, when he reached zero, right on cue, there was a hesitant, weak knock on the door.

“Go,” Theo started, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Away.”

“I brought chicken soup,” Liam said. His voice sounded uncharacteristically small, muffled by the wood of the door and thick with lingering guilt.

“Not hungry.” Theo replied curtly. His stomach gave a treacherous lurch at the mere mention of food; he knew well enough that his body was still too busy repairing internal damage, but his nausea can’t handle digestion.

“Mom said I can’t leave until I get to give you this.” Liam reasoned, his tone shifting into a familiar, frustrated whine.

“Not my problem.”

The silence lasted for all of five seconds before the door handle turned. Liam didn’t wait for an invitation; he nudged the door open with his hip, balancing a steaming ceramic bowl in his hands. The scent of salt and broth flooded the small room, making Theo’s stomach tighten in a short, defensive protest.

Theo cracked one eye open, watching the Beta shuffle toward the bedside table. Liam’s hair was still damp from his own shower, and he’d changed into a clean, oversized hoodie. Seeing Liam like that somehow made something in his chest tightened so suddenly he found it difficult to look away.

Theo kept the cold compress over his eyes, refusing to give Liam the satisfaction of a greeting. "I should’ve locked the door," he muttered.

“I’d have just kicked it in.” Liam unhelpfully answered, his voice closer now.

Theo adjusted the cold compress, staring at the ceiling. “You should be concerned that violence is your universal answer to everything, Liam.”

Liam didn’t snap back. He set the bowl down with a dull clink and sat heavily in the desk chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked less like a fierce Beta and more like a kid who had just realized he’d broken a window.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating, before Liam finally spoke. “Look... I’m sorry. For the punch. I just—when Deaton told me you left on your own, a-and when I saw you driving that truck into the driveway like nothing happened… after everything.” He trailed off, his breath hitching. “I just, I don’t know, I got angry and I... I just lost it.”

Theo tried to remain silent not because he was trying to stay stubborn, but because he didn’t know what to say to that. But then he could feel Liam was looking at him expectantly, as if waiting for the same two words he muttered at the beginning of his apology.

Theo decided he needed to inform the Beta that he’s not sorry for something he doesn't regret doing. “The sentiment is appreciated, but I’m not apologizing, Liam.”

The response caught the younger teen off guard. “You’re not? But you just— ” he stammered, breath sharpening as he took a calculated one, “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone—”

Theo stubbornly remained to keep his eyes closed as he cut the Beta off, “I'm not proving anyone anything.” He sniped back. “I don’t care what McCall thinks or what Noah, or Malia or Derek or even fucking Lydia thinks. I did what I did because I wanted to, and I’m not going to feel sorry for it.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Theo bit out, “I work with your pack, not for. I can go against McCall’s orders and not give a damn about the consequence if it can give me some peace of mind that I am not fucking up the only reason I even bothered to stay here.”

Liam’s jaw hardened, eyes flashing— a clear indication that he wasn’t happy hearing Theo’s response. “But I give a damn about the consequences,” he snapped back. “Contrary to popular belief, Theo, I don’t want you dead anymore.”

Like I give a fuck, was what Theo should say but couldn’t. Something lodged in his throat and he couldn’t get the words out of his mouth. So he decided not to say anything all together, waiting for Liam to just get the hint and leave his room.

The leaden silence was suffocating, thick with the things neither of them was brave enough to name. Liam’s admission—that he didn’t want Theo dead—hung in the air like a challenge Theo wasn't equipped to meet.

Finally, Liam shifted in the desk chair, the plastic frame groaning under his weight. He cleared his throat, the sound rough and awkward. “Can I sleep here later tonight?”

The question caught Theo so off guard that he sat up, the cold compress sliding into his lap. He leveled the younger teen with a long, piercing look. His heart gave a traitorous, erratic skip against his ribs, but he managed to mask it just before Liam could catch the scent of his surprise. “Why?”

Liam’s brow furrowed in stubborn defiance. “I’m not answering that,” he snapped. His voice was defensive, colored by a sharp flush of embarrassment that Theo could practically smell from across the room.

Theo squinted against the soft afternoon light. Liam was staring intently at his own sneakers, his shoulders squared as if preparing for a physical fight, yet his ears were tinged a deep, tell-tale red.

“You have a perfectly good bed back in your room, Liam,” Theo pointed out dryly. “One that isn't currently occupied by anyone but yourself.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Liam countered, his voice rising in that specific, competitive way it did when he refused to retreat. “I have a sleeping bag. I’ll just put it on the floor.” He finally looked up, his blue eyes fierce and determined, staring Theo down with the same intensity he used against hunters.

Theo searched his face for a punchline, a joke, or even a hint of the pity he so despised. He found none of it. Instead, he saw a reflection of the same restless energy that had been buzzing under his own skin whenever he knew Liam couldn't sleep from a nightmare.

Theo let out a long, weary sigh and dropped the cold compress back over his eyes before lying back down on his bed. The darkness was a welcome relief. “Fine,” Theo muttered, his voice barely audible. “But if you start snoring in your sleep, I’m kicking you out into the hallway.”

“I don’t snore,” Liam grumbled, though the tension in his voice had notably eased.

“Whatever. Just... shut up and leave.” Theo groaned out tiredly.

Liam didn’t move. Theo peaked out from under the compress to see the Beta glancing pointedly at the bowl of soup and then back to Theo. The message was loud and annoying.

The Chimera groaned in protest, “I’ll eat the soup later. Get out.”

“Okay but—”

“Get. Out.”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving!” Liam finally relented. Theo heard the floorboards creak as Liam finally stood up. He listened to the retreating footsteps, followed by the soft, definitive click of the door latching shut.

Theo shifted on his mattress, trying to find a comfortable position but he couldn’t shake the restless feeling. The room felt oddly too big for him again.

---

It was an odd day altogether.

Theo, for the first time since ever, was currently home alone.

And it wasn’t even by choice.

Like usual, Theo started his morning shortly after he heard Jenna wake up. The only difference was he got to wake up in his own room for once. He almost forgot how it felt to wake up in a bed and not the hardwood floor. On the floor beside his bed, Liam was sprawled half-out of his sleeping bag, his mouth ajar as he let out a steady, rhythmic snore.

Either Liam’s getting better at lying, or he genuinely doesn’t know he sound like a fucking car horn in his sleep.

Theo could be charitable for once, give him the benefit of doubt and assume that the stress was mostly to blame here. Suddenly losing an anchor can lead to a psychological catastrophe, and Liam thought he almost lost his.

He rubbed a tired hand across his face, still struggling to the concept that he, of all people, was being used as an anchor. Ignoring the idea was easy, it’s accepting it was what bothered him.

Before his thoughts got the better of him, he reached out and kicked Liam’s foot. The teen needed to get moving if he wanted to make it to lacrosse practice.

During Theo’s eighteen hour absence, Liam had managed to bullshit a lie about Theo working overtime and his truck breaking down so he needed to stay at the McCall for the night. Jenna and David accepted the bold faced lie and just went with it. Not at all questioning the huge hole in his story where the Sheriff was calling Theo’s cellphone, looking for him.

At this point, it was obvious they were just humoring Liam’s secrets.

Jenna was painstakingly gentle with him this morning and it had bothered Theo to an extent he found himself yanking Liam out the house a little earlier than intended. On the drive to school, the Beta had to text Mason that he didn’t need a ride, but only after asking Theo if he was actually ‘fine enough’ to drive.

Theo, in his defense, was rightfully offended. “You don’t even know how bad it was, you weren’t there.”

“I didn’t have to,” Liam grumbled, “I could hear you.”

The last time I saw you, you were screaming and fighting for your god damn life.

Theo found himself unable to answer that.

After dropping Liam off, he drove back to the McCall’s house to pick Alec up for today’s training.

“You’re awake!” Alec exclaimed the moment he swung the front door open. His face broke into a blinding, relieved smile before he lunged forward, catching Theo in a quick, tight hug around the midriff.

The Chimera froze, both arms hovering awkwardly in the air, having no idea where to place them. The action caught him completely off guard, leaving his expression startled and stiff. He almost missed the amused, slightly odd look Melissa gave them from further down the hallway.

Oblivious from Theo’s reaction, Alec leaned back and let go. “They wouldn’t tell me anything other than you got yourself and Stiles in trouble and that Deaton’s fixing you up.”

Stifly, Theo took a step back and coughed, feeling his skin buzzing from the unexpected contact. “Right. Well. I’m here now,” he said, the words feeling clumsy in his mouth. He offered Melissa a brief, awkward nod just to acknowledge her. Turning back to Alec, he gestured toward the truck. “C’mon, let’s get going.”

An awkward look crossed Alec’s face, “I uhh…” he muttered, briefly glancing back at Melissa as if silently pleading for backup, but she remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Theo’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What?”

“Well,” Alec started, hesitating. “Derek told me I’ll be training with him for a week, just until you recover.”

It’s currently Monday. “I’ve recovered.” Theo stated dryly.

“He also told me you’d say that and that I should still say no.”

Theo stared down at Alec, “Are you telling me Derek benched me? Into training you? The very thing your pack requested me to do?” He asked, disbelief coloring his voice.

Alec shrugged weakly, “I-I don’t know what to say to that.” He said. “I’m just following orders?”

“You sound pretty unsure.” Theo deadpanned, his voice dropping an octave.

Before Alec could fumble out a response, Melissa joined them at the door. She moved with practiced ease, wearing a maternal smile that didn't quite hide her firm stance. “It’s great to see you on your feet, Theo,” she greeted. “But Derek has it covered for the week. No arguments.”

“Did McCall say anything about this?” Theo demanded.

“Goodbye, Theo.” was Melissa’s definitive answer before she shut the door, the click of the lock echoing in the morning air.

Theo stood on the porch for a beat too long, staring at the painted wood of the McCall’s front door. He blinked once, then twice, before pivoting on his heel and marching back to his truck.

What just happened? He thought to himself.

Before he could think too much about it and realize how odd the day had been going, Theo decided to head for the Sheriff’s station. If he couldn't train Alec, he’d clock in early and bury himself in Monroe's case. The sight of Parrish standing like a sentry by the front entrance should’ve clued him in.

“You’re on paid sick leave until Wednesday.” Parrish informed him after blocking Theo’s attempt at going inside.

Theo leveled him with a glare. “I didn’t file for sick leave.”

“I filed it for you, and the Sheriff approved it,” Parrish replied with a nonchalant shrug.

Theo gave the Hellhound a flat, unimpressed look. “There has to be a law against this,” he snapped, the anger beginning to prickle under his skin. “You can’t just bench me without a reason. I still have work to do.”

“Your research was pulled for reference as per Agent McCall’s request. Even if you made it inside, you have no files to work with,” Parrish told him.

The news hit Theo like a physical blow, his irritation spiking into genuine fury. It was one thing for Scott to look at his notes, but for a federal fucking agent to butt in his business ticked him off on an entirely different scale.

“They took my research?”

“More like borrowed,” Parrish reassured him, arms crossing against his chest. “Take the hint, Theo, and just go home.”

That’s when it clicked. Like a bolt finally being placed into the right cogs of his brain, the jagged pieces of the morning slotting into a frustratingly clear picture. It was a conspiracy. He was being forcefully benched for a recovery he hadn’t asked for and a break he didn't want.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Theo hissed, stepping into Parrish’s personal space. “I’m a grown ass adult, I know when I can and can’t handle my own recovery.”

Parrish wasn’t fazed, he didn't even budge. He just looked at Theo with that calm, immovable patience that only an immortal entity could possess. “You’re not getting inside the building, Theo.”

Theo’s jaw tightened until his teeth ached. He threw a final, murderous look at the station, then back at the Hellhound, who didn't even have the decency to look intimidated. With a low, feral growl of pure frustration, Theo turned back toward his truck. He slammed the door hard enough to rattle the windows and peeled out of the parking lot, his tires screaming against the asphalt in a way he couldn't.

He was beyond pissed, but with no station to go to and no beta to train, his world had suddenly shrunk. Having nowhere else to be, he found himself aimlessly navigating the streets until he ended up back in the driveway of the Dunbar-Geyer house.

His phone pingged right beside him just as he was driving. It was a short text message from Stiles.

Dude, my grown ass had just gotten grounded by my dad. Hope your morning’s doing just as great as mine.

Theo left him on read.

By the afternoon, the Chimera was pacing the living room like a caged animal. He had already gone for a run around the neighborhood, but it had barely made him sweat. He’d tried the television, but the mindless flickering of daytime soaps couldn’t pique his interest. The dishes were done, the laundry was folded, and the house was unnervingly silent. He checked his phone, but he had no social media to scroll through and zero interest in starting one.

He eventually found himself drifting toward David’s study. He skimmed the spines of the heavy medical texts and academic journals until one title made him pause: The Selfish Gene by Richard Dawkins.

The title resonated with a cold, familiar logic. He pulled it from the shelf and retreated to his room.

He spent the next few hours buried in the text, leaning back in his desk chair and subtly swiveling from left to right as he turned page after page. In the middle of a chapter on evolutionary strategies, his phone buzzed.

It was a text from Liam.

masons givn me a ride. gnna hang 4 a bit aftr practice.

Theo sent a thumb-up emoji and returned to the book.

He became unexpectedly invested in the gene-centered view of evolution to which one's good behaviour wasn't only a sign of ‘goodness’ but merely a biological imperative to protect their own interest. He lost track of the hours, the daylight fading into a soft twilight, until the sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke his focus.

He recognized the engine immediately. Two familiar heartbeats stepped out of the vehicle and marched toward the front door.

Theo, decidedly flipped another page and continued his reading.

The front door slammed with a force that rattled the frames on the wall, followed by the heavy-footed, chaotic energy of two teenagers who clearly assumed the house was empty.

“I’m telling you, Coach is going through menopause.” Liam’s voice echoed up the stairs, loud and unfiltered. He sounded beyond irritated.

“Or maybe you just really sucked today. Accept the facts, dude,” Mason shot back.

Theo sat perfectly still in the confines of his room, his hearing being strong enough to hear the fridge open and close, the clatter of soda cans, and the frantic scramble as they raced each other up the stairs. They blew past his door without a second glance, the air in the hallway swirling in their wake, before disappearing into Liam’s room.

A moment later, the muffled, rhythmic bass of one of Liam’s console games booting up hummed through the wall. Theo didn't move, he simply adjusted the angle of his page to catch the light from the window and settled deeper into his chair.

As the frantic clicks of controllers and competitive shouting began to bleed through the drywall, Theo turned the next page.

A few rounds later, the frenetic energy in the next room mellowed into a tired hum. The excitement had finally burned itself out. After the latest match ended with a definitive silence, the atmosphere shifted. Theo heard the bedsprings groan as someone shifted their weight.

“Hey, dude?” Liam started, his voice dropping into an uncharacteristically serious sound. “Can I ask you something weird?”

Mason paused. “How weird? Because my scale’s broken after you turned into a werewolf.” He said, but there’s a slight curious edge to his voice.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer if it gets... uncomfortable,” Liam hedged.

“Liam, dude,” Mason deadpanned. “I do not like you that way. And I have a boyfriend.”

A tense silence followed, long enough for Theo to pick up the sudden, frantic spike in Liam’s heartbeat. “What? NO!” Liam barked, his voice cracking with indignity. “That’s not even what I was going to ask!”

“I’m just messing with you,” Mason said, his voice light with humor. “What is it?”

“Okay,” Liam started, his voice bracing for impact. “You know how I have issues with... you know, my skills?”

“What type of skills? Because you do realize you’re an absolute unit in a fight, right?” Mason reminded him, quick to reassure his best friend.

“I’m not talking about that,” Liam said with a slight groan. In the other room, Theo could practically picture him rolling his eyes. “I’m talking about, you know, my control, my chemosignal reading skill, my dumb hearing and senses, and… well.” He stammered, his words losing their momentum.. “You know how I suck at taking pain away? Like, there’s only one sure way for me to do it?”

Theo stilled, his eyes frozen on a word he just read. His complete attention suddenly fully focused on the two’s conversation.

“Where are you going with this?” Mason asked, his tone wary.

“I just…” Liam let out a frustrated huff, the sound of him restlessly scratching his head echoing through the wall. “When does it stop being ‘taking away pain’ and start being… you know… a full blown make out session?" he continued, the embarrassment in his voice palpable, making him immediately finish the thought in one panicked rush: “Because I don’t know if I’m just reading too much into something that isn’t really there.”

Theo sat up and closed the book he was holding. “Liam,” he called, the conversation in the next room died instantly. He could feel Liam’s heartbeat stutter and then stall. “You do realize I’m in the house with you, right?”

The distinct clatter of a game controller hitting the floor followed, accompanied by a sudden, frantic spike in the Beta’s pulse that sounded like a racing engine. “No,” Liam whispered, his voice trembling with pure, unadulterated dread. “No, no, no, no, no, no.”

“Liam what—” Mason started, but he was interrupted by the sound of Liam’s heavy footsteps charging toward the door.

Theo’s bedroom door flew open with a violent thud as it slammed against the stopper. Liam stood in the threshold, looking frantic and half-manic, his face flushed a deep, embarrassed red. “What the hell are you doing here?!” he roared, his chest heaving.

“I…” Theo started, elongating the vowel for maximum effect “...live here?”

Liam pointed an accusatory finger at him, his hand actually shaking. “No, no! I know your work hours, you should still be at the Sheriff’s!”

Theo shrugged, his expression a mask of cool indifference. “Apparently, I’m on paid sick leave.”

Liam’s face went through an entire spectrum of colors before finally settling on a ghostly, horrified pale. His accusatory finger dropped, hanging limp as the weight of the situation crashed down on him. “You... what?” he asked, his voice barely an airy squeak.

“Sick leave,” Theo enunciated slowly, leaning back. “Paid.”

Liam let out a sound that wasn't quite a scream and wasn't quite a sob. He spun in a frantic, tight circle, his hands flying to his hair and tugging at the blonde locks. “Oh god. Oh my god. Just—no. No.”

Mason leaned against the doorframe, his gaze darting between Liam’s total meltdown and Theo’s unnervingly calm expression. He looked at the closed book in Theo’s lap, then back to his best friend. The gears shifted visibly behind Mason's eyes until the context finally clicked into place.

“Oh,” Mason said, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “Oh, wow.”

“Don't 'oh wow' me!” Liam shrieked, whirling on Mason. He looked like a cornered kitten—claws out but eyes watery and wide with pure, unmitigated shame. “You didn't hear anything! Theo didn't hear anything! The walls are soundproof! We live in a bunker!”

Theo raised his hand in mocked surrender, “Alright, I didn’t hear anything.”

“I’m going to go live in the woods now,” Liam whispered, hands on face, horrified yet sounding determinedly stupid. “I’ll be a hermit. I'm moving into a cave.”

“You’re already a werewolf.” Mason reminded him, his voice dry and entirely unhelpful. “The cave is a bit on the nose, don't you think?”

The Beta shot him a look that was meant to be murderous but mostly just looked desperate.

Downstairs, the front door groaned open. Theo’s ears picked up the familiar rhythm of Jenna’s heartbeat as she crossed the threshold. “Theo? Are you back already?” she called out, her voice echoing up the stairs. “I saw your truck in the driveway. Come help me with the groceries!”

Theo stood up, smoothing out his shirt and setting the book carefully on the desk. He took a step toward the door, pausing just long enough to give Liam a pointed, lingering look.

“Spatial awareness,” Theo said, his voice dropping into that low, lecturing tone. “Could save you a lifetime of regret.”

Theo left without looking back as he headed downstairs, ignoring Liam’s continuous head thuds against the wall and the sudden tingling feeling on his mouth.

Chapter Text

Theo spent his remaining—two days—sick leave going through David’s books, somehow finding the act of reading a rather pleasant moment for him, to the point Theo had actually considered signing up for a library card, but decided against it since he’ll be back on doing his duties the next day.

It was rather odd though, the few moments Jenna or David caught him reading out of his room, even when they’re about to tell Theo to do something; a chore, probably, they held the words back. And when Theo would signal them to continue talking, they’ll simply dismiss it and tell him to continue what he was doing.

Theo was only reading, he could simply put a bookmark over his page and continue later.

Although the moment David found out Theo had borrowed his book was even more odd. While Theo was reading in his room, with Liam playing video games in his, and hearing him ruffle his own hair in frustration every now and then, probably still out of sheer embarrassment. David had knocked on his door frame because Theo had left his door open to hear Liam better, just when to know if the beta had decided to sleep.

Theo looked up from the page he was reading, closed the book and turned around from his desk table, “Oh hey,” he greeted dumbly before remembering who exactly owns the book he was reading, “I hope you don’t mind. I’m on leave and I didn’t have anything else to do.”

David entered the room and waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t mind at all.” he replied before eyeing the title. A subtle press of his lips told Theo the doctor had thoughts on ‘The Selfish Gene’, but he chose to keep them to himself. Instead, he leaned against the dresser. “So… your car broke down?”

Theo refrained from rubbing his nape, but instead leaned back as if to pose a relaxed position, tipping his chin out the hallway as if pointing. “Liam has great hearing when he tries. Are you sure you want to talk about this now?”

David only raised a challenging brow, “Can he hear us right now?” He asked.

Theo tilted his head, filtering out the hum of the house to focus on the room across the hall. He heard the beta furiously button-smashing his controller followed by the heavy whump of Liam face-planting into his mattress.

“You’re so fucking stupid, Dunbar,” came a muffled, miserable groan.

“No,” Theo replied, turning back to David. “He’s a little preoccupied.”

David nodded and sat on Theo’s bed, “I figured,” he said with a knowing shrug, “He texted me to drive him to practice tomorrow. Begged”

Theo’s eyebrows furrowed, “I can still drive,” he countered, his voice carrying a defensive, almost complained edge. “I’m not invalid. I drove him to practice just this morning.”

“I don’t think that’s the reason why he’s asking me.”

Theo stayed silent for a minute, realizing a second later that this was probably Liam’s poor attempt at retreat after his embarrassing slip up this afternoon. Theo had remained indifferent with the matter to avoid this outcome exactly. It’s funny how he forgot how emotional the beta could get.

Theo exhaled a sharp, exasperated breath through his nose. “What did you say?”

“I said no,” David replied easily. He shifted his weight, his gaze becoming more focused. “You want to fill me in on what happened?”

“Him and his big mouth happened,” Theo answered truthfully, unable to resist a small jibe.

“I know my son’s tendencies,” David supplied, “It’s why I’m not asking about that.”

Theo let his face melt into an unreadable blank, wanting not to show anything real or fake on his face. Breaking eye contact, Theo stared at the book cover he was reading, subtly biting his inner cheek as he searched for a better way of approaching the topic without saying too much.

“My stay here is conditional. And I’m not talking about your house.” Theo said, looking back up. “What I do—and whatever happens to me in the process—is the outcome of why I’m here.” Theo continued, choosing to be vague as much as possible but enough to understand his situation. “If I don’t do what I should do, then I don’t know why I should even be here.”

David stared at him, a hint of an unsatisfied expression barely painted across his face. “Were you forced to do this?”

“Asked,” Theo corrected. “But even if I hadn't been, I’d be doing the same thing. Just with less paperwork.”

David gave him a silent, but calculated stare, before finally nodding to himself and standing up. Pocketing his hands deep in the process. “Feel free to go through my books. I haven’t touched those in a long time.” He told the chimera instead, choosing not to push for answers Theo wasn’t willing to give. “Have a good night, Theo.”

Before David left, the older man promptly turned around and gave the chimera a look, “Say, you find yourself needing stitches. Come find me.” He said before pivoting around and leaving, giving Theo no room for response.

His room felt oddly quiet, he just didn’t know if it was a good or a bad kind. Only Liam’s frustrated whining was still audible in the background. At this point, the Beta’s lack of composure was more embarassing than his earlier slip up.

If Liam spent the next few days in a state of awkward, wide-eyed silence whenever Theo drove him to practice, Theo simply let him be. Poking a cornered animal rarely improved a situation.

It had continued that way day after day, and each day Theo could read the dread on Liam’s face whenever they had to leave the house. It was amusing, really, considering he had nothing to do for the rest of the day other than going through David’s book collection since the man said he could.

By Thursday morning, the day Theo was finally cleared to return to the Sheriff’s station, the tension reached its breaking point. Theo had his bag packed, including ‘The Body Keeps the Score’—a book David had silently slid across the breakfast table to him that morning.

Liam had this determined expression just when he got in the passenger’s seat, almost as if bracing for an impact he will most likely cause.

Theo gave him a few minutes and waited until Liam slammed his phone face-down on his thigh as if to begin the dreaded idea he had in his head. He leveled the chimera with a determined look. “Okay, we have to talk about it.” he finally announced. “I know you can keep this up for I don’t know how long, but I can’t.”

Theo kept his eyes on the road, his expression flat. “Talk about what?” he asked flatly. “Keep up what?” He added, just for the amusement of it.

Liam pointed an accusatory finger at him, his jaw set. “Don’t— Don’t do that! You know exactly what! The… the thing! In the woods!”

Theo allowed one eyebrow to lift a fraction of an inch. “You’ll have to be more specific. A lot of things happened in the woods. The fire? The collapse? You screaming like a—”

“Stop being a fucking jerk, Theo!” Liam snapped, his voice cracking with exasperation. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Theo caught a glimpse of the Beta’s face; it was a deep, furious crimson. “Oh, that. You mean when you grabbed me and shoved your tongue down my throat?”

Liam spluttered, “I—That’s not—I was taking your pain! It’s a thing that works for me!” he almost screeched, hands fisted so hard Theo was a bit concerned his nails might draw blood. “I did not—I wasn’t—!”

“It’s a method. Your only sure method.” Theo countered easily, navigating a turn. “I’m aware.”

Albeit Theo already agreed on his argument, Liam seemed to still have the need to prove himself, “I was taking your pain! That’s what it was supposed to be! I was helping you!”

Theo gave a casual, infuriatingly calm shrug. “And you did. Pain’s gone. Topic over.”

Liam made a face, surprised by the dismissal before anger took over his expression. Without warning, he reached over and yanked the truck’s handbrake. The rear wheels locked instantly, the vehicle jolting into a violent, screeching skid. Theo reacted with predator-quick reflexes, killing the engine and fighting the steering wheel as the truck fishtailed across the dry asphalt before slamming to a halt.

Theo whipped around, his heart hammering against his ribs in a mix of adrenaline and pure rage. “What the hell, Liam?!” he roared. “Are you trying to get us both killed?!”

“No!” Liam answered, lurching forward in his seat, just as passionately pissed. “But the topic is NOT over because YOU—!”

He’s vibrating with frustration, finger jabbing in Theo’s direction. “You grabbed me! And, and, and, held my—” his hand hovered along his waistline as if remembering where Theo’s hand was placed to pull Liam in, “And— and grabbed my—” he added, his other hand hovering over the back of his head, reminding Theo of how his fingers ran through the beta’s hair.

And something just snapped in Theo, because he just can’t.

“Okay, enough! I did not need a visual presentation.” Theo almost groaned, rubbing his forefinger and thumb over his eyes. Trying to rub the image away but his closed eyes only managed to burn it in his brain.

Liam froze, realizing he was literally reenacting the moment, and his face turned an even darker shade of red. But even with the embarrassment flooding his neck, he doubled down. “You grabbed me! You… you opened your mouth! And you kissed me. You kissed me. You. Kissed. Me.”

“You stuck your tongue down my throat first.” Theo reminded him, refraining his voice from rising to match Liam's.

“I did that to take your pain, as ESTABLISHED!” Liam bellowed, his voice bouncing off the windshield. “You just kissed me! I shouldn’t be the only one feeling embarrassed because you kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me—!” The beta repeated over and over again as if trying to prove a point no matter how childish the method was. “You kissed me! You kissed me! You kissed me! You—!”

“Alright, I did!” Theo finally relented with a snap.

The silence that followed was instantaneous and deafening. Liam froze, his mouth half-open, looking genuinely stunned that the broken record method had actually worked.

“I kissed you,” Theo stated, his voice tight and final. “There. I said it. Are we done now?”

Liam’s expression remained caught in a loop of surprise. “Yeah...” he replied weakly, his posture finally deflating.

Theo took this as a sign to start up the car and continue driving while muttering about how stupid and childish all this was. Theo was just about to turn his engine on when he heard Liam speak again.

“Wait, no I’m not.”

Theo barely managed to stop himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, silently praying for a level of patience he didn't possess. “Jesus fucking christ, what now, Liam?”

“Why?” Liam asked.

The question hit Theo with the force of a physical blow. His stomach dropped, and the word began to echo horrifically inside his head like a ghostly taunt. “What?”

“Why did you kiss me?” Liam asked again, his brows frowning now.

Theo had no answer for that.

He hadn’t really stopped and thought about it ever since he woke up from Deaton’s clinic. It wasn't that he was blatantly ignoring the memory—he could acknowledge that it had happened, that it wasn’t some fever dream or a figment of his imagination. He kissed Liam, that happened, that was real, real enough to put the beta in an overwhelming storm of embarrassing reactions.

He had processed the what. He had processed the where.

But Theo just never asked the question why.

“I don’t know.” Theo finally answered, the words feeling thin and hollow.

Liam’s frown deepened, finding the answer unacceptable, “What do you mean you don’t know? You don't just 'don't know' something like that.”

Theo looked back at the road, but he wasn't seeing the asphalt. He remembered the exact moment the pain had begun to recede, leaving a vacuum that was instantly filled by the heat of Liam’s body. Even with the pain still ghosting through his nerves, the feel of Liam being that close—that reachable—had triggered an urge to just continue.

Once the pain was gone, the feeling had shifted from something necessary to something addictive. The feel of Liam’s breath, the frantic rhythm of his heart, the slick friction of the kiss. If the Sheriff hadn’t made a noise, Theo wasn't sure he would have stopped, even if his consciousness threatened to flicker out.

Theo didn’t know why he did that, and he didn’t know why he had the urge to make it last.

“It means exactly what it meant.” Theo deadpanned, “I don’t know.”

Liam wasn’t letting it go. He leaned back against the passenger door, staring at Theo with a look of intense scrutiny. “That is such a load of crap,” Liam said, his voice dropping to a low, frustrated murmur. “You always have a reason.”

Theo had a reason to attack the northern base, had a reason why he stayed in Beacon Hills, had a reason why he always slept on the floor. He just doesn’t know the reason why, and why he kissed that reason. Theo could feel an incoming migraine tick at the back of his head just by thinking about it. He doesn't have the time to sit here and psychoanalyze himself.

He checked the dashboard clock and shifted the truck into gear, the engine roaring back to life as a convenient shield against further questions.

“You’re already ten minutes late for practice,” Theo snapped, his eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead. “Unless you want Coach to make you run laps until you puke, I’d suggest you drop it.”

Liam opened his mouth to retort, but the sudden, aggressive jerk of the truck as Theo pulled back onto the road silenced him. The Beta settled back into his seat, huffing a breath of unsatisfied frustration, but he didn't push again.

The rest of the drive was spent in a thick, vibrating silence. Theo didn't look at him, but he could feel the weight of the question still hanging in the air between them—unanswered and unexamined.

---

Theo stared at the wooden surface of the Sheriff’s desk, tracing the grain as if it were the most fascinating thing in the room. It was better than looking up; he could feel the Sheriff’s gaze burning into him, cold and hard enough to be a physical weight. Noah sat with his arms crossed and his jaw locked, looking like he was one word away from losing his legendary patience.

Theo was leant back on the visitor’s chair, his elbows resting on the arms and his fingers intertwined. His thumbs tapped against each other in a rhythmic, restless motion, and he kept his lips pursed. He wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was avoiding eye contact.

Because Theo, for the first time since he came back from hell, could admit he’d crossed a line purposefully. Scott had devised a plan, and Theo had simply ignored it. Worse, he hadn’t gone alone; he’d dragged Stiles with him—the Sheriff’s only son, a boy Noah had already lost once from the Ghost Riders, the very same creatures that he fought tooth and nail from taking Liam.

Theo could feel the guilt of that, heavy and sharp in his gut. But he refused to feel bad about defying Scott McCall, not when he successfully eliminated the immediate target on Liam’s head, not when he’d done the very reason why he’s helping the pack in the first place.

“I can do this all day, Raeken.” The Sheriff finally said, his voice level but stern. “Your research was returned yesterday, along with some new references from outside Beacon Hills that might help you track Monroe,” he added.

That additional statement got Theo’s head to snap up, his interest piqued. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and then hissed a breath through his teeth. He was at a loss for words that would appease Noah without being a blatant lie.

Lying and Theo had a complicated relationship lately. The skill was still there, but it felt situational now—a rusted tool he wasn't quite sure how to use on people like Noah Stilinski.

“What do you want me to say?” Theo asked, his voice dropping in defeat.

“You’re smart, you should know.”

Theo stared up at the ceiling, finding it incredibly annoying that he was being treated like a toddler in a timeout when he could be doing actual work at Parrish’s desk.

“I won’t take Stiles next time.” Theo tried.

“Try again.”

“I won’t take anyone next time,” he offered, trying to make it sound like a firm statement rather than a desperate guess.

The Sheriff’s eyes narrowed dangerously at him, “Are you playing dumb right now?”

Theo’s arms flew up in frustration before flopping back down at his sides. “Jesus, Stilinski, I don't know what you want from me.” he exclaimed exasperatedly. “I can’t promise you that this won’t happen again.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” The Sheriff countered, leaning forward. “And you even had the audacity to tell me, to my face, that you’d do it again”

Theo gave him a flat look, “Would you prefer I lie?” he asked challengingly. “I’m being generous enough to be honest with you, alright? I’ve spent months hunting that woman, doing exactly what you asked. I’m even training Alec out of the goodness of my dead sister’s forced heart,” Theo ranted, the words spilling out with a sharp edge. “I do things on my own once and you’re treating me as if I’ve been going against your back since the start.”

The Sheriff just stared at him, his expression a wall of stone. He took a deep, steadying breath through his mouth and exhaled slowly through his nose. “I don’t know if your lying skills are just that good, or if you genuinely believe this is the first time you’ve done something this reckless.”

Theo’s brows furrowed, “If this is about that Maxine case, I didn’t know about your stupid rules—”

“It’s not about the Maxine case, Raeken,” the Sheriff snapped, cutting him off so sharply that Theo physically recoiled. “I’m talking about those three dead hunters found in the preserve.”

Theo’s confusion vanished, replaced instantly by irritation. He slumped back into his chair and groaned at the ceiling. “Are you seriously lecturing me about killing? Police officers kill civilians every day, and I took out three murderers who were actively hunting people close to you, even your very human son,” Theo defended himself, his voice rising. “You think anything you say right now is going to change my mind about taking lives? I exploded a warehouse, Sheriff. I think we’re past the moral high ground.”

The charged silence that followed was something that unsettled Theo, something about the way the Sheriff looked at him told the chimera that they weren’t seeing eye to eye, and the very fact of it was what made the Sheriff pity him.

It was irritating.

“I had a talk with Alec, Corey, and Mason about what happened in the woods.” The Sheriff told him, Theo’s eyebrows furrowed in silent confusion, having no idea what the older man was trying to prove here. “They told me everything. Even the minor things.”

“Where are you going with this?” Theo asked impatiently.

“Theo, we have protocols not just to avoid power tripping,” the Sheriff explained, leaning over his desk to slightly bridge the gap between them. “We have protocols so my deputies don't end up in harm's way. The work we do is already dangerous enough. Communication isn't just about following orders; it’s about making sure everyone gets to go home at the end of the shift.”

He held Theo’s gaze, his voice softening but remaining firm. “When you go off-grid, you aren't just a 'loose cannon.' You’re a blind spot. And blind spots are where people get killed.” he continued, voice softening in a lower hum. “I’m not keeping you here because I don’t trust you. I’m keeping you here because I don’t trust you from yourself.”

Something hard and solid lodged in Theo’s throat. A sharp heat burned behind his eyes, and his—Tara’s—heart felt suddenly, suffocatingly tight. He hated this. He didn't even have a name for what this feeling was, but it felt like a trap.

“Don’t do that.” Theo forced out, his voice sounding thin and strained.

“Do what?” The Sheriff asked, fakingly dumb.

Theo stood up abruptly and began to pace the small office, feeling as if staying seated would cause him to combust. “Don’t. Do that.” he repeated, his gestures sharp and jagged. “Stop saying shit like that.”

“Theo—” The Sheriff tried to intervene, but the softness in his tone only made Theo’s skin crawl.

“I almost got Stiles killed multiple times, Stilinski. Most of them without remorse," Theo spat, the reminder vibrating with a violence he hadn't felt in weeks. He needed the Sheriff to remember; he needed someone to keep the walls up if he couldn't. “Did you forget I deliberately injured his throat? Or do I need to remind you that I literally killed Scott?”

Theo stopped pacing and glared at him. “Not that long ago, you were ready to shoot me in the face. Now, suddenly, you what? You care? Are you fucking kidding me?”

The Sheriff said nothing, he only stared at and watched as Theo paced around the office, vibrating of too much emotion Theo can’t seem to pin point which is which.

“You’re not supposed to trust me, much less care about what happens to me,” Theo said, his mind flashing to Melissa’s quiet olive branch and Mason’s fading doubts. To him, they all looked dangerously, stupidly gullible. “This whole thing is a transaction. That’s it. The second the lines start to blur on your side, you need to ask yourself if you’ve lost your judgment or if you’re just plain damn stupid.”

David and Jenna, Theo understands where they take their blind trust, if only they knew what Theo had done. But the Sheriff? He had personally done unforgivable damage to him, be it emotional or physical. He shouldn’t be showing Theo an ounce of care.

He shouldn’t, because it’s the dumb thing, and the Sheriff wasn’t supposed to be stupid.

“Why are you so hell bent on keeping yourself painted as a villain?” the Sheriff asked, his voice steady as he ignored every valid reason Theo had just listed.

Theo froze.

Keeping? The word felt like a physical strike. He hadn’t been painted as a villain; he had built the identity with his own hands. He had killed his sister at nine years old—she was only the first of many. He had executed Tracy and Josh for the sake of power. He’d manipulated Stiles into taking a life, goaded Liam into attempted murder, and left Lydia to rot in Eichen House.

The list was a mile long.

If he’s not a villain, then what the hell was he?

“It’s not a matter of baselessly caring for your well-being Theo.” the Sheriff continued, unperturbed by the horrified, stunned look on the Chimera’s face. “It’s a matter of you baselessly starting to care for people.”

Theo stayed silent, but the air in the room suddenly felt too thin to breathe.

His throat constricted and his knees felt dangerously weak. He felt a wave of nausea, a desperate urge to heave, but nothing came. It was an internal collapse—a visceral, sickening rejection of the truth being forced upon him. He wanted to flick a switch, to find the wiring in his head and pull it out until the feeling stopped. He wanted to vanish along with the gnawing guilt that followed him like a shadow, growing longer with every good deed he accidentally performed.

Noticing the silence stretching too thin, the Sheriff exhaled and leaned back, his posture shifting into something jarringly casual. “Where do you usually take your lunch break?”

Theo blinked, the sheer mundanity of the question forcing him to sober up. “My what?” If Theo had his way, he wouldn’t eat at all—not when there was work to be done. But Parrish was persistent, and the Hellhound could still lift him away from the table.

“Lunch.” The Sheriff replied curtly and casually.

“Uh…” Theo cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice. “There’s a diner. A few minutes' walk from here.”

The Sheriff hummed, “Are there healthy options?”

“I suppose so,” Theo answered, his brain still trying to catch up. “If you ask for them?”

“Great. Parrish and I will join you there at noon,” the older man said, as casually as if they were discussing a filing system. “I can't stand the ‘health food’ Stiles has been packing for me lately. It’s obviously a retaliation for grounding him, but I’m not eating another kale wrap.”

Theo just stood there, his mouth slightly agape. “I—what?”

“You’re dismissed, Raeken,” the Sheriff said, waving a hand as if shooting a persistent fly.

Theo turned and walked out of the office, his legs feeling like lead. He walked past the holding cells and the bustling deputies, the sound of his own pulse loud in his ears. He had walked into that room expecting a cage or a fight; he hadn't expected to be invited to lunch by the man.

When Theo reached his shared desk with Parrish, stacks of folders and paper waiting to be looked through were placed on the surface. The hellhound himself was reading the borrowed book Theo brought from David.

“I’m slightly concerned about your book preferences.”

“Stop touching my stuff.” Theo spit back instead, snatching the book away.

---

The Sheriff was a man of his word. From that day on, Theo found himself eating lunch with Noah and Parrish every single day without fail. They developed a routine: instead of the cruiser, they took Theo’s truck. The Chimera remained staunchly against riding in a police car; his vendetta against was still very strong.

Stiles eventually caught wind of the arrangement. One Saturday, Theo opened the Geyer-Dunbar front door to find the human standing on the porch, brandishing a handwritten list of every food Noah Stilinski was strictly forbidden from touching.

The urge to simply slam the door in his face was almost overwhelming.

“Aren’t you supposed to be grounded?” Theo asked instead, leaning against the doorframe just to spite him.

Stiles scoffed, as if the very idea of grounding him was absurd. “When did that ever stop me?” He then fixed Theo with a look so unnervingly serious it almost felt like a caricature. “Just don’t tell anyone you saw me here today.”.

“And I’ll do that because... why, exactly?” The Chimera crossed his arms, unimpressed.

“Because I almost died for you, and you almost died for me. There should be some kind of sick, reluctant camaraderie between us by now,” Stiles argued, waving the list for emphasis.

Theo’s eyes narrowed, “You weren’t supposed to almost die,” he corrected sharply. “The warehouse was collapsing and you had a clear opening for an exit. You just decided to stop using your head for five minutes.”

Stiles stared at him blankly and blinked, “Is Liam in here?” he asked, the sudden upbeat shift in his voice grating on Theo’s nerves.

It was becoming a well-known fact that Liam’s anxiety spiked whenever Theo did anything mundane that required leaving the house. The Beta had started asking to tag along for everything, even if Theo was just mowing the lawn. Scott had advised Theo to just go along with it until the initial fear left Liam's system. However, since Theo had made it abundantly clear that he would do something rash again if he deemed it necessary, he had successfully—if accidentally—prolonged Liam’s panic.

Even discussing the warehouse could sour Liam's mood in an instant.

It’s almost like the Beta wasn’t hiding the fact that Theo’s his anchor anymore. At what point does Liam remember that the chimera wasn’t stupid nor blind?

Being consciously aware that he’s Liam’s anchor was still an idea Theo’s trying to get around to. The knowledge that he could manage Liam’s emotions came with a sense of fragile importance that Theo was terrified to break. Discussing the decision to be left behind while Liam was within earshot was basically asking for a migraine in a gift box.

“You could have just texted me, Stilinski.” Theo deadpanned, a frown forming on his forehead from the stupid threat.

“You keep leaving me on read.”

“The last message you sent me was a gif of a cat getting its head stuck in a traffic cone,” Theo answered, unimpressed. “You’re lucky I didn’t block you.”

“Theo? Who’s at the door?” Jenna called from the kitchen.

“No one important,” Theo replied over his shoulder.

Without waiting for a rebuttal, he closed the door with a solid, final thud. He caught a fleeting glimpse of Stiles’s expression—a look of exaggerated disbelief—right as the latch clicked into place. For a brief second, Theo felt a genuine sense of victory.

Stiles, being Stiles, didn't just give up. A moment later, a long, folded strip of paper slid through the gap beneath the door. Simultaneously, Theo’s phone buzzed in his pocket with a digital copy of the list—a failsafe in case the physical version ‘accidentally’ ended up in the trash.

Theo didn’t throw it away. Reluctantly, he brought it with him to lunch on Monday. He waited until the exact moment the Sheriff opened his menu to pull the crumpled list from his pocket and smooth it out on the table.

The instant, deep-seated frown that transformed the Sheriff’s face was almost worth the effort.

“Wow,” Parrish said, leaning over to peek at the paper. He reached into his own breast pocket and pulled out an identical slip. “I have the exact same copy.”

“I’m starting to think Stiles hands these out like flyers at the precinct,” Theo commented with a dry tut.

“He tried,” the Sheriff grumbled, closing his menu with a sigh of defeat. “He tried.”

The days that followed settled into a rhythmic, almost domestic grind: driving Liam to practice, training Alec in the early mornings, and joining the Sheriff for lunch the moment Theo returned to the station. He spent his afternoons buried in research before picking Liam up and heading home.

Occasionally, updates trickled in from Agent McCall regarding the hunt for Monroe. According to him, her group was reeling. Stiles hadn't just walked away with a copy of their files; he had decimated their local network and fed a virus that ate through anything linked to their servers.

If Monroe was planning another attempt at infiltrating Beacon Hills, she would need significant time to rebuild from the massive losses she’d taken.

Admittedly, Theo had not killed anyone when he and Stiles infiltrated the warehouse, but he had been the one visibly doing the physical attacks. And it wasn’t like Theo had been hiding while he tracked her down; he had been open, methodical, and visible. It wouldn't be long before she started doing the same to him.

Theo knew the way people like Monroe thought—he hadn’t just escaped her; he had humiliated her. It was no longer just a tactical war; it was becoming a personal one, and Theo was well aware that he had just moved to the top of her list.

You need to talk to someone.

The thought was a persistent itch at the back of his mind. It was a reality he couldn't discuss with Liam in the vicinity, but he knew he needed to inform McCall about it or the Sheriff. He just hadn't done it yet. It didn't feel like an immediate problem. Monroe had been temporarily backed up to a corner, her resources decreased by an astounding degree, and Agent McCall wasn’t making it easy for her to bounce back.

It felt stupid, he knew it did, but the decision to keep his mouth shut for the time being was what he finalized on. And it oddly felt selfish, he didn’t know why.

By the time July rolled in, the summer heat arrived with a vengeance that prompted Theo to finally trade his layers and long sleeves for t-shirts since he was mostly outdoors. Liam, meanwhile, had taken to lounging around in oversized shirts and cut-off shorts even with the AC running, muttering some nonsense about how werewolves ran hotter and Theo ‘wouldn’t get it’ because he was a different synthetic species.

The heatwave effectively ground Beacon Hills to a halt. Lacrosse practice was suspended, Alec’s training sessions were relocated to the cavernous (and cooler) shadows of Derek’s loft, and the ancient AC unit at the Sheriff’s office finally breathed its last. Theo had spent the morning complaining about the humidity until the Sheriff finally snapped, offering to buy a new unit only if the cost came out of Theo’s paycheck.

Taking that as his cue, Theo gathered his research. If he was going to sweat, he was going to do it in the comfort of his own room where the air was at least breathable. The Sheriff was not at all impressed and had demanded Theo to return all of the classified case documents early tomorrow morning.

Theo shot a sarcastic thumbs-up over his shoulder and kept walking.

That was how he found himself at three in the afternoon, hunched over his desk, attempting to work while Liam lounged across his bed as if he owned the place. The Beta was mindlessly tossing a lacrosse ball into the air and catching it, the steady thwack-thwack of the ball against his palm providing a rhythmic backdrop to Theo's mounting frustration.

Liam had been kicked out multiple times already, but he kept drifting back in with the persistence of a stray cat. Not even a direct threat to a pen thrown at his face five minutes ago had managed to keep him away for long.

Theo should’ve found it annoying, but he can’t. Liam’s presence wasn’t the problem, it was the get up. The combination of the frayed cut-off shorts and the oversized tank top had emphasized more on his slightly compacted height and lean frame. And Theo, for some inexplicable reason, seemed to entirely like the view a little too much, and it was doing absolutely nothing for his concentration.

Then Liam missed a catch. The ball bonked off his forehead. He made a tiny, frustrated noise—a hrrmph—and scrunched his nose, blonde hair flopping into his eyes as he scrambled for it. There was an awful melting feeling that Theo felt on his chest which somehow bothered him to an extent he couldn’t understand.

“You throw that ball one more time and I’ll throw you out the window.” Theo bit out instead, spinning his chair around to glare. Lacking any healthy way to deal with his confusion, he retreated into his default setting: irritation.

Liam caught the ball and froze, tilting his head to look at the Chimera. “Is the heat bothering you that much?”

One of Theo’s eyebrows raised, “You’re blaming the heat?” he asked, “Didn’t you probably think that, I don’t know, maybe it’s your recurring presence that I've been trying to lock out was what’s bothering me?”

Liam shrugged, completely unbothered. “You left your door open.”

“And you immediately assumed it’s an open invitation?”

“It is for a vampire.”

Theo’s eyebrows furrowed down. “First of all, that’s not even how the lore works. And second, you are the literal opposite of a vampire.”

Liam rolled onto his back, tossing the ball a mere inch into the air this time. “Whatever. Maybe I’m just trying to liven this place up. This room is depressing, Theo. It’s like living in a high-end prison cell.” he stated, somehow managing to change the topic. “Not even a single band poster in sight.”

Theo glanced around. His desk was organized, his bed was made, and his shelves almost held nothing but a few of David’s books. “It’s called being organized. A word you probably don’t know, seeing the state of your room.”

“It’s called ‘barren’,” Liam countered easily, gesturing vaguely at the cream-colored walls. “You’ve been living here for months and you haven’t added a single thing. Don’t you at least want to paint them?”

Theo returned to his files, his pen scratching notes along the margins. “And change it to what?”

Liam shrugged, “I don’t know,” he said before sitting back up with sudden renewed interest. “If you could pick any color, what would it be?”

Theo’s pen paused mid-sentence. He opened his mouth to give a dry, sarcastic answer, but the words didn't come. He realized, with a sudden and uncomfortable jolt, that he didn't actually have an answer.

Placing his pen down, the chimera swiveled around to stare at the beta’s face, “We’re not painting the walls, Liam.” he answered flatly instead. “I’m only taking temporary residence anyway. I shouldn’t even be doing permanent damage to this room.”

Liam’s expression soured, a flash of distaste crossing his face as if there was something that Theo said that had physically stung him. Still, he didn't voice his concern. “Big deal, we can always just paint over. It’s not 'permanent damage,' Theo.”

“I’m not wasting my precious time on home improvement,” Theo deadpanned.

“Then I’ll paint it while you grouch in one corner.” Liam huffed, annoyed with the chimera’s stubbornness. “Just tell me the color you want.”

Theo went silent. He thought back to the Doctors, to the years spent playing the role of the perfect, charming transfer student, and then the repentant ally. When he was with Scott, his favorite was probably something honest and grounded, like forest green. For a girl he was manipulating, it might have been whatever color her eyes were. He had spent so long being a mirror for other people's expectations that the concept of a personal preference felt alien.

Theo refrained from staring down on the floor, making him look pathetic. He took a deep breath, and reluctantly replied, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Liam asked, sounding genuinely offended on behalf of the entire color wheel. “Everyone has one. It’s like, the first thing you learn in kindergarten.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t.” Theo replied, fixing Liam with a dry look. “And I didn’t really have the time to actually find one. So just paint whatever you think is good and leave me out of it.”

Liam’s frown deepened even more, his mouth almost forming into a permanent downward fixature. “This is your room, not mine. Can’t you at least try and think of something you might like?”

Theo gripped the arms of his chair a little tight. The question felt like a test he hadn't studied for. He leant back as Deaton’s words echoed back in his head like an annoying reminder. Theo looked back at a decade’s worth of gray, sterile memories. He thought of the flickering lights of the operating rooms, the blood on his hands, the humid, suffocating view of Tara’s hand thrusted into his chest and realized one thing.

“I don’t like red.” Theo said, voice flat and devoid of emotion.

“Okay, great start. But you’re not helping me here.” Liam said, voice almost trying to sound impossibly patient but his flailing hands told Theo otherwise.

Theo looked at the blank wall, then back at Liam. He watched the way the afternoon sun filtered through the window, catching the gold in the Beta's hair and the specific, shifting hue of his eyes. A mix of slate and sky, a cool contrast to the stifling heat of the room. It was the only thing in the room that felt like it had any life in it.

Theo shrugged, “I think…” he started, voice sounding a little tight but he managed to smooth it over. “I might like blue.”

---

Theo had unwillingly stopped by a hardware store the next day after his lunch with Sheriff, standing in front of the paint aisle only because Liam’s pestering had become more exhausting than the chore itself. Apparently, informing the beta that he would prefer blue as his room’s wall color had opened a floodgate of exactly what type of blue because there's apparently an infinite number of them.

He hadn’t anticipated how difficult it would be to find the right one. He stood there, staring blankly at a wall of swatches, feeling a strange, mounting frustration. Nothing on the rack seemed to match the color he had in mind—mostly because none of the printed cards possessed the living, shifting depth of a person's iris. The fact that he was irritated because a piece of cardboard wouldn't glow made him feel remarkably stupid.

Theo eventually left the store with a paint swatch of Benjamin Moore’s "Winter Lake". It was a muted, moody shade—not quite not on par with the original color Theo had in mind but it was the closest thing the store had to offer.

He gave it to Liam as soon as he got back, barely made it through the front door before the beta was there, hand outstretched and eyes bright with anticipation, as if the idea of handing out what might be Theo’s probable room color in the future excites him.

The situation honestly felt immaturely stupid.

And slightly offensive basing from the instantaneous frown Liam plastered on his face once he had the paint swatch on his hand, staring at it with immediate disappointment.

“This?” Liam asked, holding the swatch like it was a piece of junk mail. “This is barely a shade away from what’s already on your wall.”

Theo gave him a dry look, “It is remarkably hard to please you, Dunbar,” he deadpanned. “I just walked in. Lay off.”

He pushed past the Beta and headed into the house, intent on washing off the day's humid office air before Jenna called them for dinner.

By the time they sat down at the table, the house was quiet. David was pulling a double shift at the hospital, leaving just the three of them. The atmosphere was casual, the air thick with the smell of Jenna’s cooking and the low hum of the refrigerator.

“So,” Liam started, breaking the silence with a mouth full of pasta. He coughed and swallowed down with visible effort before forging ahead. “Theo and I had an idea—”

“It was your idea,” Theo corrected without looking up. “You just pestered me long enough to go with it.”

Liam threw him a sharp, unimpressed glare before turning back to his mother, “As I was saying,” he continued, pulling out the swatch Theo handed him earlier and sliding it across the table like a peace treaty. “I was thinking—since he’s been staying with us for a while now anyway—we should at least paint his room. He already got the color picked out and all”

Jenna, seemingly finding the idea both surprising and elated, looked at Theo before picking up the card to inspect the color. Her mouth pursed into a thoughtful line. “Well, it’s definitely a change from the off-white,” she said. Her tone suggested she shared Liam’s ‘underwhelmed’ reaction, though she was doing a much better job of hiding it.

“So you’re okay with it? Painting the room?” Liam asked, his eyes widening in that persuasive, puppy-like manner that usually bypassed his mother's defenses.

“I think it would be a fun experience for the family.” She told Liam with a subtle nod before noticing something, eyes coming back to the held up swatch card. Her face froze, a look of quiet realization washing over her features. “I think David would like the activity…” she added but her whole attention was busy staring at the card and back at Liam’s face, an action she did multiple times.

“It’s just a paint swatch, Jenna.” Theo commented, his fork rhythmically twirling his pasta.

“And it’s a very lovely paint swatch.” She replied slowly, placing the card down on the table. “Very…” She trailed off, staring at her son as if the answer was written across his forehead. A strange, tight expression crossed her face—one so noticeable that even Liam stopped chewing to look at her. “Calm.” she finally said, managing to find the most ironic word so far.

Liam frowned, “I think it’s boring.”

The comment seemed to snap Jenna out of her daze. She gave Liam a pointed, knowing look. “It’s his room, honey.” She said before adjusting to her seat with sudden defiance. “And I actually really quite like the color. You might too.”

“I really don’t.”

“Just eat your food, Liam.”

Theo kept his head down, suddenly finding the texture of his fettuccine fascinating. He didn't need to be a werewolf to feel the shift in the room's temperature. Jenna had seen exactly what he had seen in that hardware store aisle, and now the ‘Winter Lake’ blue felt significantly less like a paint color.

He should’ve just grabbed the first blue he saw and walked out.

“So, I was thinking.” Liam said, a few minutes later after dinner.

They were elbow-deep in suds, drafted into washing the dishes because the dishwasher had chosen this specific evening to malfunction. It was a rhythmic assembly line: Theo scrubbed the plates, and Liam dried them.

Theo let out an internal groan. “If this was the outcome whenever I said to use your head, I would’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

Liam, rightfully ignored the comment. “You’re basically a grey robotic void in a tight Henley—” Theo’s face twisted into a spasmic, offended frown at the mention of his wardrobe, but he didn't interrupt. “You didn’t even have a favorite color. So it got me thinking... Maybe you don’t have a lot of favorites? You know, things you actually like for yourself?”

“I like peace and quiet,” Theo deadpanned, glaring at a persistent smudge on a ceramic plate. “Both of which are currently being threatened.”

“You chose Stiles as your partner on that stupid suicide mission.” Liam shot back, unimpressed.

Theo sighed heavily, the sound echoing against the damp tile of the kitchen. “Where are you going with this?” he asked, avoiding the warehouse topic with practiced ease.

“I just want to know more about you, you know?” Liam finally declared with a sheepish shrug. “How would I do that if you don’t even have a favorite color? It’s like your personality inventory is just… this and nothing more.” He added, gesturing wholly at Theo’s entire existence as if it were something disappointing.

Theo rinsed a bowl and glared at Liam, “This,” he started, gesturing a dripping wet hand at himself. “Is the reason you have someone driving you to lacrosse practice. Have some respect, Dunbar.”

Liam frowned, “That is a routine, which is the only thing you do every day. The only activity I’ve ever seen you do in your free time is read a boring book.” Liam countered, stepping into Theo’s space to grab another wet plate. “Do you even have a favorite food? And you can’t say ‘whatever’s in the fridge’.”

“Whatever’s in the fridge.” Theo replied, purely to be difficult.

Liam groaned, the sound vibrating with genuine frustration. “Do you like tacos? Pizza? Sushi? If you were on death row, what would your last meal be?”

Theo turned his head slowly, fixed him with a flat look, and said, “Probably a file with a saw inside.”

“See? You can’t even name one,” Liam pointed out, indicating one finger towards Theo. “Don’t you think that's a problem?”

“You’re starting to become a problem.” Theo muttered, turning back to the sink.

Liam gave him a flat look, “I’ve been your problem since I pulled you out of the Skinwalkers prison,” he deadpanned, “And I will continue being your problem if it’s the only thing I get to find out if you’re a dog person or a cat person.”

“I would like to finish washing the dishes, Liam. In silence.” Theo stated instead, putting emphasis on the word ‘like’.

Liam ignored him with blatant dismissal, “We should make a list. We’re going to find things you like. We should start small, like what film genre you like. Wait, do you even like any film at all?

Theo shut off the faucet with a sharp clack and leveled Liam with a look that suggested his patience was hanging by a microscopic thread. “Why do you care so much?”

The question was meant to be a wall—a sharp, jagged barrier to stop the conversation dead.

He was irritated not because of Liam’s incessant questions, but because by some miracle, Theo can’t help but see Liam’s point. He had been nothing but a person who’s either ‘surviving’ or ‘working’, the thought painfully reminded Theo of when he was forcibly placed on leave for work, having nothing to do for a whole day that led to realizing he rather liked reading a book he can relate. A late discovery for himself because for once he got nothing to do.

Theo had spent so much of his time surviving, the idea of living felt like a foreign idea in his head.

“Why not?” Liam questioned back.

The answer was simple—annoyingly so. He said it with a shrug, his tone light and maddeningly casual, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. But Theo felt like those two words were a physical weight settling in his gut. Liam wasn't asking out of a sense of duty or a pack requirement; he was asking because the idea of not knowing seemed to bother him.

And the idea shouldn’t even bother Theo. He was Liam’s anchor, after all; it made biological sense for the Beta to be this hyper-fixated on his state of mind.

At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself as he looked away, focusing on a stray soap bubble as it popped against the porcelain. He kept his jaw shut tight, the silence stretching just long enough to turn the air in the kitchen heavy and uncomfortable. Finally, Theo let out a long, defeated breath.

“Fine,” he bit out, his voice tight as he reached for the hand towel. “I’ll play your stupid game. But if you mention ‘personality-inventory’ one more time, I’m going to start listing people I dislike, and you’ll be at the top in bold, underlined font.”

“I can live with that,” Liam chirped, completely unfazed by the threat.

“Just finish the damn dishes, Liam.”

Chapter Text

Theo was writing something on his case file notes and the overwhelming music blaring in his eardrum was grating his nerves. He tried to last all of five seconds before he yanked out the offending earphone and glared at his barely readable hand writing.

Letting out a sharp, irritated huff, he pulled out his phone to turn off the music. It was a new Spotify account Liam had set up for him—nestled comfortably under the Geyer-Dunbar family plan—and Theo was currently weighing the pros and cons of uninstalling the fucker entirely.

“Are you in a slump or something?” Parrish asked from the opposite side of the table.

Theo looked up, his expression a volatile mix of confusion and annoyance. “What?”

“You look pissed,” the Deputy stated simply, as if merely pointing out that the sky was blue.

“I’m always pissed.” Theo answered dryly.

“No, you’re always grumpy,” Parrish corrected. “Right now, you look like you’re about to flip this table and everything attached to it. What were you even listening to anyway?”

“Bad music,” Theo replied curtly, and with total conviction.

Parrish’s forehead crinkled with genuine confusion. “And you think listening to bad music makes you more productive?” He glanced down at Theo’s erratic, jagged handwriting before looking back up. “Because I don’t.”

Theo’s instinct was to deflect—to snap a sharp remark and bury his nose back in the case files. But he found himself leaning back and letting out a tired exhale. He contemplated for a while, wondering if it made a difference if he told Parrish or not. Theo decided, who the fuck cares anyway.

“I’m doing some… self-discovery bullshit,” he finally admitted, trying his best to sound indifferent.

One of Parrish’s eyebrows arched up. “Self discovery?”

Theo's head tilted slightly to the right, wincing at himself, somehow finding the conversation a little embarrassing when there’s exactly no reason to feel that way. “Yeah…” he said, wanting to end the conversation right there before remembering Deaton’s annoying advice about needing to talk. “Last week Liam wanted to paint my room. He asked me what color I liked… and I got nothing.”

Parrish’s face was immediately morphed into subtle bewilderment, eyebrows hiking up to his hairline. It’s as if the idea of not having a favourite color was of some rare occurrence. “Oh…” he said, processing the statement far slower than he normally would. “And how did ‘bad music’ come into that equation?”

“Personality Inventory." Theo answered shortly.

Parrish eyes narrowed down on him, “Are you sure you're feeling okay? Because lately, you aren’t making a lick of sense. I’m starting to think it's those weird books you've been reading.”

“The books that I read are fine, Parrish.” Theo snapped, his patience evaporating. “Liam just had this stupid idea of filling up my ‘Personality Inventory’ or whatever he calls it. So I’m stuck listening to…” he trailed off as he opened his phone to check on the song title, squinting “Missery Business by Paramore.”

Parrish blinked. “That’s actually a nice song.”

Theo levelled him a flat and dry look.

“It’s upbeat and loud. I can see why it’s not up to your taste.” Parrish immediately added, back tracking a bit but mostly unfazed by the glare.

“Liam fixed me twelve playlists to listen to while I work.” Theo deadpanned, “And right now I wish I was deaf.”

“Could’ve been worse.” the Deputy said, attempting to inject some forced optimism into the conversation.

“It is worse.” Theo replied, and thunked his head back on the chair’s backrest, “Alec found out and wants in on it. He already sent me three playlists.”

It wasn’t like he was hiding his personal activity in the first place. When he had picked Alec up from Scott’s house three days ago, the kid had been immediately suspicious of the earphones—a gadget Theo never used until now. One thing led to another and the kid was adamant on making his own playlist for Theo with such determination it’s almost funny.

Theo didn’t want to say it, but jealousy does not make Alec a better person.

“Was his list any different?”

“Haven’t had the time to listen to make an opinion.”

“It’s just music, Raeken. You can listen to it in your sleep.” Parrish informed him, leaning forward. “You’re treating this as if it’s like homework. Did Liam give you a deadline?”

“No.” Theo replied, remembering Liam’s words back when he was setting up Theo’s account on his phone. “He said to just take reference.”

“Then he’s probably just giving you a bunch of his playlist so that you can frankenstein your way through them to find what you actually like.”

Theo paused. “Well, he didn’t say that.”

“He didn’t have to. It’s your account, if you don’t like the song. Skip it.” Parrish said, gesturing to the phone. He paused for a minute before frowning. “And you haven’t found anything that you liked so far?”

Theo refrained himself from rolling his eyes, just remembering his experience with music so far made him tired. The fact that the words being sung would take his attention more than the words he was reading was annoying. It’s a wonder how people manage to study while listening to people screaming against their ear.

“No.” Theo answered shortly, “It’s like people talking incessantly but with an annoying rhythm.” he paused and stared at his phone. Maybe that’s exactly the problem. “I think I’ll try listening to something instrumental.”

The look Parrish gave him was almost telling.

“What?” Theo asked anyway, his frown deepening

“Nothing, just…” he paused, pondered over and pulled out his phone. “I think I have a track you might not actually hate.” His fingers tapped away at the screen as he searched. “I usually listen to environmental or ambient stuff when the rain is hitting the roof and the bed feels a little too comfortable to leave.”

“Sounds depressing.” Theo muttered.

“It’s called ‘cozy,’ Theo. Try it sometime,” Parrish replied easily, ignoring the chimera’s minor jab, still pressing through his phone before his eyes lit up. “Here, it’s called Awake by Tycho.”

Theo leveled him with a skeptical look. He was already drowning in bad suggestions from Liam and Alec; he wasn't sure he wanted to risk his eardrums on Parrish’s ‘bedtime’ music, not when he barely saw the guy listening to one anyway.

Parrish met his gaze with a flat, unimpressed stare. “Just give it a try, Raeken,” he urged. “It’s barely five minutes long. It won't kill you.”

“The stupid Paramore song is three and a half minutes long, and I’m pretty sure it shaved a year off my life.”

“I’m not suggesting a twelve-part epic. It’s one song,” the Hellhound deadpanned. “You’re not usually this difficult.”

“You don’t know me well enough, then,” Theo muttered. Despite the protest, he opened the app and searched for the track. He slid his earbud back in and hit play, bracing himself for another rhythmic assault.

It wasn't loud. In fact, it felt oddly warm. It lacked the aggressive, ‘in-your-face’ quality of the pop-punk Liam had forced on him. Instead, the sound was atmospheric and layered—the kind of music that felt like a long drive home at dusk. There were no lyrics to pull at his focus, just a steady, synthetic pulse that felt clean and organized.

It was… stupidly nice.

“Well?” Parrish asked expectantly, watching Theo’s expression for any sign of a crack.

Theo adjusted his grip on his pen, looking back down at his files. He gave a noncommittal shrug, though the tension in his shoulders had visibly eased. “It’s not awful.”

---

Liam had stupidly assumed Theo just liked music without people singing in it. In result, the chimera had found himself listening to a bunch of classical and old instrumental music that grated his ears. Some were dull enough to serve as white noise, but most were loud, brassy, and obnoxious—listening to them felt like being trapped in a dated, over-dramatic film.

“What the fuck is this, Liam?” Theo asked, barging into the beta’s room, his phone raised as if to indicate to the new atrocious playlist Liam had just synced to his account.

Liam paused his game, blinking up from the screen with a look of genuine confusion. “Music?”

“Do you even know who half of these composers are?” Theo demanded.

Liam made a face that told Theo that he, in fact, did not know. “I know Beethoven,” he answered but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

“Oh yeah, tell me the difference between Symphony number five and Symphony number nine,” Theo challenged, crossing his arms over his chest, leveling the Beta with a look that was as expectant as it was condescending. “Since you included it here and since you know Beethoven, you should clearly know the difference.”

Liam’s expression soured as he realized he was being baited into a losing argument. “Okay, why are you being such a massive asshole right now?”

“Because I just listened to a twelve minute sound track of Star Wars: The Last Battle.” Theo deadpanned, ultimately removing the fact that he had to look up where the music was used because he knew the film enough to pass for a functional human in a conversation, but never really watched all films. “Do you even know who John Williams is?”

“Okay, clearly you’re not happy with the new playlist,” Liam snapped, his frown deepening into something sharper. “You could’ve just said that instead of being a condescending asshole about it.”

“It’s a music suggestion, Liam. How can you fuck it up not once, but thirteen times?” It was meant to be a rhetorical question but Theo found himself petty enough to wait for a response. When he got nothing but a deepening frown, he continued. “Did you just type in ‘famous musical’ and went with the first thing you saw?”

“I get it. You hate it. Stop rubbing it in.” Liam grumbled before promptly turning back to his game.

Theo stood there, momentarily stunned by the sudden, blatant dismissal. As he straightened up, he began to notice the warning signs: the rigid line of Liam’s shoulder blades, the rhythmic clenching of his jaw, and a sudden, sharp spike in his scent. The air in the small room grew heavy with the smell of bruised pride and mounting frustration.

Liam wasn't just annoyed; he was genuinely offended. He was clearly vibrating with the urge to snap, holding it back only because Theo’s presence as his anchor was forcing an unnatural lid on his temper.

“Okay, what is it now?” Theo asked. He was ignored. The only response was the frantic, aggressive clicking of the controller as Liam mowed down enemies on the screen. “Liam,” he called again, his voice dropping into a more authoritative tone.

Nothing.

Theo felt like an unpaid babysitter who had been thrust into the job without so much as a ‘please.’ In hindsight, that was exactly what he was—only the toddler in this scenario could flip a car when he got cranky.

He mentally checked the date. The full moon was still weeks away, so he couldn't blame the lunar cycle for this particular flare-up. Liam had been perfectly relaxed and enjoying his game until Theo walked in. That would conclude that Theo, the anchor, was the one that soured Liam’s mood. The irony in it was devastatingly funny that nothing about it was laughable.

Theo turned and saw Liam’s laptop opened on his desktable, on the screen was a spreadsheet—not a random list, but a meticulous catalog of instrumental music. It was organized by what looked like popularity stats and historical notes in the margins.

The chimera internally groaned. Liam hadn't just dumped a search result into a playlist; he’d actually tried to study for this and failed spectacularly.

Stepping forward, Theo moved directly into Liam’s line of sight, blocking the TV screen. Predictably, that was the final straw.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem?” Liam snapped, slamming the game into pause. He glared up at Theo, his eyes flashing with a spark of gold that had nothing to do with the monitor. “Are you that desperate for an argument, or do you just like being a dick for the sake of it?”

Theo didn’t budge. He stayed rooted in place, a human roadblock between Liam and his mindless digital violence.

“Move,” Liam barked, trying to lean around Theo to see the monitor. “I’m in the middle of a match.”

He glanced back at the spreadsheet on the laptop—the sheer, earnest effort of it made him want to itch— before turning his focus back to the agitated Beta.

“Contrary to everyone’s belief. I am not that desperate for an argument,” Theo said, his voice level despite the cynical curl of his thoughts. “I’m just saying that sending me an entire history of music via Spotify is a bit much. It’s overwhelming.”

“I was trying to give you options,” Liam snapped, dropping the controller onto his lap with a frustrated plastic clack. “I got you instrumentals. I spent hours looking up what ‘high-brow’ people listen to so you wouldn't think it was stupid.”

Theo felt that annoying, constipated tightness in his chest again. He wasn't going to apologize—mostly because he didn't know how to do it without sounding like he’d suffered a traumatic brain injury—but he also knew that if he kept being a prick, Liam might actually stop trying. An unlikely scenario but the possibility wasn't zero.

“Look,” Theo started, his tone clipped. “I don't know what I like. That's the whole point of this whole stupid project you started. But throwing twelve playlists and then one new one at me all at once is just... it’s noise. It’s a chore.”

Liam scoffed, looking away. “Fine. Delete them. I don't care.”

This time, Theo’s groan wasn’t internal anymore, “I didn't say delete them,” he countered, his voice bordering on becoming a tone higher. “I spent the whole week listening to your dumb playlist before Parrish said I could just skip it if I hate it.”

Liam blinked up, his eyes flickering into skeptical curiosity. “Wait—you’re actually listening to all of them?”

“I tried to, okay?” Theo said, somehow wanting to point out that he really was putting on the effort, “I’m just saying we need a baseline. I already told you I didn’t hate Tycho’s ‘Awake’ music, why not start there?”

Liam blinked, his anger cooling into a thoughtful frown. “Like... synthetic ambient post-rock stuff?” He said, “I just figured instrumental meant 'old stuff.'”

“How old do you think I am?” Theo deadpanned.

Liam shrugged, his previous irritation finally gone. “I dunno. You grew up with the Dread Doctors, they looked like they would like classical music.”

“My relationship with them is atrocious at best, Liam.” Theo deadpanned, leveling the beta a look that could only be translated as ‘you should know this by now’. “I grew up being picked apart every other week. If they like classical music, that would be the first thing I would list under dislikes.”

“Well,” Liam said, a small, triumphant spark returning to his eyes. “At least we have that down.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, “What? Classical music?”

Liam shook his head. “No,” Liam answered, pulling his phone from his pocket and tapping the screen. “That you hate the Dread Doctors.”

Theo’s mouth snapped shut. He watched, momentarily speechless, as Liam officially logged 'The Dread Doctors' under the Dislikes column of his notes app. It was such a simple, blunt entry, yet his brain felt suddenly devoid of a comeback.

Theo’s relationship with the Doctors was complicated at best. Did he enjoy their company? To absolute hell he didn’t. But he had chosen them—or at least, the version of a child he was had. He had walked out of his own home to be taken by them, opting to be stripped apart and stitched back together over and over again for the sake of power, of living a little longer.

There was a dark, nauseating corner of his mind that whispered he wouldn't have reached the age of nineteen without them. In some sick, twisted way, they were the architects of his survival. And he acknowledges that.

But their whole relationship was abusive, manipulative, transactional, dehumanizing. He was never a person to them; he was a prototype that could be scrapped and replaced the moment he showed a flaw. He had learned that lesson in the most agonizing way possible.

Theo, will forever, resent them.

“Yeah,” the chimera finally answered, agreeing. For the first time, he felt the weight of the word settle properly, pinning down a feeling he’d never dared to name because it felt too dangerous to admit. “Yeah. I really do.”

---

Turns out, Theo didn’t specifically hate people singing, it just depends on how the singer sang. Liam eventually badgered him into trying Teardrop by Massive Attack—an old track that Theo met with his trademark skepticism. To his surprise, he didn't hate it. It wasn't life-changing enough to be a ‘favorite,’ but it was tolerable. The beta was quick to remove ‘People Singing’ under his dislikes and victoriously added ‘Atmospheric/Environmental/Introspective Music’ under his likes.

“See, you’re not that weird.” Liam reassured him, but it felt more like he was reassuring himself if anything were to take from his tone of voice.

Theo rightfully decided not to comment on that.

Surprisingly, the person who clocked in that Theo had found appeal in reading was Alec. The youngest Beta was in the middle of a grueling reflex-training session when he noticed the Chimera perched on one of Derek’s industrial stools, buried in a copy of ‘Never Let Me Go’ by Kazuo Ishiguro. A book that David had gone lengths on preventing Theo to borrow but had relented anyway because Theo may be seeing his dead sister when stressed, but he can still manipulate his way into—or out of—any situation.

“Kind of a weird choice for you, don’t you think?” Alec asked.

Theo paused, his eyes lifting from the page to find Alec staring at him from his seat on the cool loft floor. “Oh yeah? How so?”

Alec’s face scrunched up. “It’s a bit… on the nose.” he said with a shrug, pushing himself up and brushing nonexistent dust from his jeans. The icy stare Theo leveled at him made the Beta immediately backtrack. “I’m not being nosy, okay? I told you, I just hear stuff.”

Theo’s eyes narrowed, “And somehow that gave you the impression that you can tell me what and what not to read?”

Alec raised his hands up as if surrendering, “I didn’t say that.” he defended quickly, “I just think it’s weird, given... well, how weird your situation is.”

Theo slammed the book shut with a definitive thwack, the sound echoing in the high ceilings of the loft. “I know the premise of the story, Alec.” It was the only reason he’d picked it up in the first place. “I know exactly what I’m reading. Why don't you worry about your shit reflexes instead of my library?”

The jab worked for exactly sixty seconds. Then, Theo found Alec standing right in front of him again, his expression set in a look of stubborn determination.

“I have a book you can borrow,” Alec said. “One with a better ending.”

Theo wasn't sure what to feel first: irritation that Alec had just spoiled the ending (though the story’s trajectory made a happy conclusion seem statistically impossible), or genuine shock that a book recommendation was coming from this kid of all people.

“If it's a fantasy trilogy, I would rather shoot myself.” Theo deadpanned instead, somehow shooting a bullseye with how Alec’s expression crumbled.

“Just try the first book.” Alec persuaded with an audible wine.

That was how Theo found himself later, draped across the sofa in the Geyer-Dunbar living room, wearing a frown that looked like it had been carved into his face. He was halfway through ‘The Maze Runner’. On one hand, it was a solid enough start; the puzzles were logical, and the oppressive, confined setting felt familiar in a way that kept him turning pages. But the constant action and fear within the story made Theo want to put it down.

He lived the better part of his childhood being in constant fear and anxiety of being replaced. The book wasn’t a reflection of himself, it’s a reminder, and that minor detail had soured Theo’s mood from continuing. It’s the idea that he already started reading it made him want to finish the book, then never trust Alec on whatever future book recommendation the kid has.

“Oh cool, did you know they turned that into a film?” Liam asked, wandering into the room. He was mid-chew on a granola bar as he flopped onto the sofa, sitting a little too close. Theo didn't move away.

Theo paused on his reading and looked up, “No, no I didn’t.” he replied dryly before closing the book and placing it on the coffee table.

“Okayyyy.” Liam elongated the word, sensing the shift in the air. He tucked the granola bar into the corner of his mouth to free up his hands and pulled out his phone. His thumbs flew across the screen as he opened the notes app. “Action-fantasy novels,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the bar. “That’s a no.”

Theo watched as the beta finished typing and closing his phone before pocketing it in his shorts, grabbing his granola bar back into his hand before biting off a huge chunk. Something about the whole thing felt strangely calm; it almost made Theo itch.

“We should do movies next,” Liam announced through a mouthful of oats.

“Close your mouth when you’re eating, Liam.” Theo said instead that was left ignored.

“We should start with genre’s,” the beta continued with a thoughtful hum, “Or we should start with the book you’re reading.”

“No.” The Chimera’s response was as flat as a dial tone.

“Yeah, okay, valid. But books and movies are different. You might actually enjoy it once it’s on a screen,” Liam argued, his enthusiasm undeterred. “Plus, they changed a lot of the plot for the film.” He added before slightly perking up, as if realizing something before fishing his phone out yet again.

“What are you doing?” Theo asked, almost dreading the answer.

“Listing pop-culture films that you should know.” Liam replied, his words almost indecipherable with the granola bar hanging off between his teeth. He stopped and stared when he managed to list three titles before promptly switching to his messaging app. He scrolled with purpose until he hit Stiles’ contact name and started texting, asking what films to list.

Theo decidedly stood up and left the beta on his own in the living room, taking the book with him.

“What do you think about Harry Potter?” Liam called as the chimera blatantly ignored him, climbing up the stairs to create as much distance as he could.

The following day, Theo returned the favor by throwing the book at Alec’s head. It connected with a satisfying thud. He made it very clear that he was officially rejecting any future recommendations the kid had to offer—even if they involved a magical closet with a lion inside. The rejection prompted a comment from Alec that stuck to Theo that he actually did something he never did: he texted Liam a sentence that wasn't just a ‘thumbs up’ for once.

“You weirdly don’t like books specifically written for our age.” Alec had muttered with a pout, rubbing the sore spot on the back of his head.

It wasn’t that Theo hated Young Adult fiction books; it was that he couldn’t find a way into it. He can appreciate the creativity and world building if written well, but the approach of exploring universal adolescent experiences in a naive sort of way couldn’t appeal to him.

im satrting 2 thnk ur jst boring.

Liam texted a second later, making Theo wonder if the teen was lounging lazily in the living room. Then frowned at himself for even wondering.

He considered leaving the message on read—he should leave it on read—but five minutes later, his thumbs were moving across the keypad: I just have standards that your basic brain doesn't have.

Liam’s response was instantaneous: i hve stndards

Theo replied a few minutes later after yelling at Alec for still being unable to shift on command when school was about to start in a few weeks. The missing punctuation suggests otherwise.

He received a middle finger emoji a second later, followed by a screenshot of his ‘Personality Inventory.’ There, at the bottom of the ‘Dislikes column’, was a fresh entry: Bad texting etiquette.

Theo had half a mind to reply that the bad texting didn’t actually bother him when it came from the Beta himself. He decided against it, however; because it felt a little too telling.

The week progressed with Theo learning to create his own playlist for work, for driving and even for reading. He still found vocals a distraction when he was concentrating on case files, but he welcomed them during his solo drives—mostly because Liam still commandeered the car’s audio system every morning like a hostile take-over.

The Sheriff once saw Theo bopping his head to a rhythm he was listening to, humming a synthetic tune under his breath while hunching over a research outline with a red pen. They stared at each other uncomfortably for under ten seconds before the Sheriff slowly turned around and continued on walking. Theo refrained himself from humming the rest of the day.

Thankfully, the incident was never mentioned again.

When the weekend finally rolled around, Theo had just collapsed onto his bed after a long night of sleeping against Liam’s bedroom door when the Beta arrived to drag him back out. Today was the day: the repainting. Theo briefly considered asking Jenna to install a bolt lock on his door, then realized Liam would probably just smash his way through the wood anyway.

“There’s barely a difference. It’s just... slightly less white,” Liam complained the nth time that morning, his paint roller in one hand while showcasing Theo’s ‘boring’ color choice to David.

“It’s clean and calm,” David replied with a thoughtful hum, testing the pigment. “I can see the appeal.”

“Of course you would,” Liam muttered with a dry frown.

Theo took Liam up on his word a little too seriously when the beta said he could grouch in one corner while he painted his room. Sitting on Liam’s plastic covered bean bag, after a solid argument of getting paint on the surface, Theo wasn’t grouching but he was reading ‘The Lucifer Effect’ while Liam and David painted his walls.

Since his room barely had stuff in it, it was easy cleaning out the room to prepare for recoloration, placing all furniture in the very middle.

Jenna had prior commitments with her work friends that she completely forgot until she received a text this morning. Theo was somehow relieved that she wasn’t participating, the idea that she knew the origin why Theo chose this specific color was a little concerning. She can keep a secret, that wasn’t his problem. The context of the color had sent a different message to Jenna and Theo had no patience in dealing with that.

Not when he himself wasn’t sure what it really was.

“You asked what color I liked, Liam.” Theo reminded the beta before flipping another page.

“And your past is a lot more colorful than this,” Liam shot back without looking at the chimera. Then he paused before turning around, his expression suddenly curious. “Is that why? Because you had a messy childhood?”

“Whatever makes you sleep at night.” Theo replied dismissively, ignoring Liam’s poor attempt at trying to be a therapist. If Deaton failed spectacularly in that department, Liam doesn’t stand a chance.

The comment made David let out a subtle, knowing huff of a laugh, somehow finding a hidden joke within the statement. Theo immediately clocked in on that and had thrown David a warning glare, to which the doctor decidedly ignored. Liam, for his part, didn’t notice the exchange.

After hours of recoating and waiting for the paint to dry—a process that involved Liam managing to splatter more paint on his forehead than the wall—Theo was later carrying the furniture back to its original place. David, who was helping him while Liam scrub the paint helplessly off himself in the bathroom, paused and looked around the room.

“Don’t you want to re-position some of these?” He suggested.

“To where?” Theo asked, frowning.

“Your choice,” David replied with a shrug. “You know, I agree with Liam when he said you seriously need to redecorate your room.”

“I barely use this room even for sleeping, I don’t think changing up the furniture would make a difference.” Theo replied, making sure that the beta wasn’t listening in on them.

David raised his hand with mock surrender and unbelievable patience, “Just a suggestion,” he said before walking towards Theo’s desk and placing a hand on the wooden surface, “Where do you want to place this?”

Theo went silent, his fingers tapping a rhythmic pulse against his thigh. He looked at the Winterlake walls, then at the window. “Under the light,” he finally said. “By the window.” He moved to the other side of the desk to help David lift it. He could feel the pleasant, satisfied smile on the older man’s face without even looking. “Don’t make it a big deal.”

David didn’t make it a big deal.

Liam did, so he locked him out of his room for the remainder of the night.

---

Theo was currently re-reading ‘Never Let Me Go’ in the driver’s seat of his truck, which was parked in the crumbling lot of a DVD rental store. He was purely killing time; Alec and Liam were taking so long inside that the cab of the truck had begun to feel unexpectedly stifling.

Theo originally planned his weekend involving a solo trip to a movie theatre. Since he had no idea what he liked, he figured the most efficient strategy was to find out what he hated first. After all, it seemed like approaching this project with the process of elimination had been working well so far.

Theo was already browsing the local showtimes on his phone, picking three movies across three different genres with the intent of watching them back-to-back. He planned to work his way through every category little by little every week. That was, until Liam barged in his room with Mason in tow, complaining to his best friend about how barren the chimera’s room still looked, because apparently complaining to his parents wasn’t enough.

At this point, the beta should be tired by now.

Cue Liam’s inability to mind his own business even though Theo saw how hard he tried not to. One thing led to another, and Theo found himself staring at the massive spreadsheet Stiles had curated for Liam, categorized by ‘Genre,’ ‘Cultural Necessity,’ and ‘Required Viewing.’ Apparently, some films had such a massive impact on the human psyche that they were mandatory for entry into civilization. Stiles’ words.

Alec had heard about it from his awful inability to keep his nose in his business and was asking Theo two days later if he could join in on the movie marathon.

“It’s not a movie marathon,” Theo immediately corrected.

“Then what do you call it?”

The chimera didn’t want to explain to Alec that he’s humoring Liam by letting the beta discover more about Theo since the absence of his childhood prevented him from knowing. He certainly didn't want to admit that a minuscule, hidden part of himself wanted to know the answers, too.

So he didn’t.

“A movie marathon.” Theo answered, sounding annoyingly exasperated.

So, instead of sitting in a quiet cinema chair, Theo was stuck waiting in his truck. His phone pinged from a message notification, it was from Mason, asking what else to buy, and Nolan asking additionally if there’s skittles available in the group chat, that Theo had long been ignoring since he was added yesterday.

“I would really prefer it, Liam, if your personality project is just between the two of us.” Theo had complained the previous evening. He’d watched in silent dread as the beta practically handed out invitations to Nolan, Mason, and Corey the second he found out Alec was tagged to join.

Liam’s excuse was that Theo had ‘invited’ Alec. Theo hadn't, but he was far too exhausted by the circular logic of teenage pack dynamics to argue the point.

“Hey for all they know we’re just having a movie night,” Liam replied, not looking up from his phone and his thumb flying across the screen. “The more the merrier.”

Theo really hated that saying.

When the Chimera heard two familiar heartbeats approaching, he promptly closed his book and reached for the ignition. He didn't even get the chance to turn the key before a loud, heavy thud rattled the passenger door. He turned to see Liam and Alec wrestling for the handle like a pair of pathetic, territorial toddlers.

“What are you idiots doing?” Theo asked. He rolled the passenger window down just a smidge, already feeling the sharp prickle of a migraine blooming at the base of his skull.

“Liam’s being an unfair asshole.” Alec snapped, his voice strained as the older Beta caught him in a clumsy headlock.

“You’re an unfair asshole.” Liam shot back with a complete lack of creativity.

Theo stared at the two for a solid second before immediately clocking in on the problem. He merely rolled the window back up and pinched the bridge of his nose with a tired exhale, letting the two teens elbow each other out because Theo’s not willing to deal with that yet.

He wasn’t blind. Emotionally illiterate? Perhaps. But he wasn't stupid. He had systematically dismantled a pack and killed a True Alpha; he understood the mechanics of devotion and jealousy perfectly.

Alec was impressionable. He didn't know the full history of Theo’s atrocities. To Alec, Theo was the reluctant mentor who had saved his life—the man who had killed three hunters while taking three wolfsbane bullets, biting down on his own scream as they burned the poison out of his system, and whatever else he knew about what went down the warehouse albeit limited. That filtered view had created a person very far from Theo.

Theo knew full well what kind of impression he had on the guy, and why Alec had this attachment on him that the chimera dreads because the possibility of it evolving into something more was a problem he wouldn’t want to deal with. Alec’s poor attempt at being under Theo’s good graces and his awful jealous action told the chimera otherwise.

Theo couldn't find Alec’s admiration flattering. Not one bit. He was already barely managing being Liam’s anchor, give him a fucking break.

“If you’re still brawling like spoiled toddlers after ten seconds, I’m driving away without the two of you in it.” Theo found himself saying a minute later when he noticed that none of the two was backing down.

“That is MY spot!” Liam groaned, his hand shoved unceremoniously into Alec’s face to push him away from the handle.

“I called shotgun!” Alec argued, like that word somehow defies all laws of logic.

Liam twisted him around, and their combined weight slammed into the side of the truck with a heavy, metallic thud.

“If I find a single dent on this door, you’re both paying for the bodywork.” Theo threatened. He was blatantly ignored.

“I had dibs on this seat before you even moved to Beacon Hills!” Liam shouted back, refusing to let go of the door frame.

“That means you’ve had plenty of time to enjoy it! It’s my turn!” Alec bit out. He yanked his head back, but in the struggle, his shoulder slammed into the window. Between Alec’s raw, uncontrolled strength and the hair-trigger spike in Liam’s temper, the glass couldn't take the pressure. A spiderweb crack blossomed across the window with a sharp, sickening snap.

Both teenagers froze instantly.

Theo stared at the fractured glass. Without blinking, he reached over and clicked the manual lock on the passenger door, ensuring neither of them would be sitting there. “Both of you. In the back,” he said. His voice was dangerously flat, devoid of any heat. “And you’re both splitting the bill to fix this.”

Liam looked like he was about to mount a defense, but Theo leveled him with a look that promised a very long, very silent walk home. The two of them scrambled into the back seat, still elbowing each other out of sheer unresolved argument.

Theo gripped the steering wheel, seriously considering leaving them both at the curb and telling Jenna he’d lost her son in the preserve. She was a reasonable woman; she’d understand.

Out of the novel’s worth in Stiles’ film list, Alec and Liam found four films under four different genres. Apparently, the two had trouble choosing which film to pick depending on its availability, wanting not to rent a film under the same category. It felt thoughtful, but the effort seemed unnecessary for two working brains that were supposedly high school students. And to think Liam’s a senior who’s planning on taking AP World History.

“Four films?” Mason asked the moment they hauled the haul into the living room. He hiked up his sleeve to check his watch, his eyebrows shooting up. “It’s past six p.m., dude. We’re looking at an all-nighter”

“Three of which are two hours long or over,” Corey commented, scrolling through his phone, already looking up the film length. “Do you think Mrs. Geyer wouldn’t mind if we crash here?”

“She wouldn’t.” Liam answered easily.

“I would.” Theo interjected dryly.

“Not your house. Opinion invalid,” Mason quipped back without a second thought, already rifling through the rented DVDs. A pensive expression washed over his face, lips pursed as he let out a low hum of executive deliberation. “Okay, pack vote,” he announced, spinning around to face the group. “What’s the watch order?”

Theo leveled Liam with a flat, unimpressed look. The Beta offered nothing but a non-committal, one-shouldered shrug before sinking into the sofa and pulling out his phone—likely to order the pizza Alec had been whining about for the last three minutes.

They ended up choosing a romcom film titled 10 Things I Hate About You as the opener, mainly because ‘the gays won,’ as Mason triumphantly put it, and Theo can’t vote since he hadn’t seen any of the movies and judging a film by its cover was just as bad as the books.

The pack scrambled into their designated spots with practiced ease. Liam claimed the cushion directly beside Theo, sitting just close enough for their shoulders to occasionally ghost against one another. Nolan claimed the armchair on Theo’s other side, while Mason and Corey sprawled across the remaining sofa space.

“Okay, fuck all of you.” Alec complained, staring at the hardwood floor—his only remaining option. He eventually slumped onto the rug, leaning back against the sofa by Theo’s knees with a disgruntled huff.

A few minutes into the film, Theo was already mentally checking out. Watching a group of teenagers navigate the social hierarchy of a high school felt less like entertainment and more like a fever dream of human stupidity. The grand gestures, the choreographed angst, and the idea that a poem could resolve a conflict were, in his professional opinion, statistically impossible and borderline offensive.

Theo had practically volunteered on receiving the pizza when the delivery man came, just to avoid looking at the screen even just for a short time.

Despite not liking the film right off the bat, he remained seated throughout the runtime, a stoic shadow on the edge of the sofa while the others laughed or groaned at the screen, determined to finish the film until the end. If romantic comedy was always built from these foundations, then it’s a genre of unrealistic expectation and idiotic pacing.

“So?” Liam asked the second the credits rolled, turning to Theo with an expectant, slightly nervous energy. His eyes searched Theo’s face as if expecting something. “Thoughts?”

Theo rolled his shoulders, the tension of sitting still for two hours finally snapping. “Unrealistic and stupid,” he deadpanned, his voice flat and clinical. “It’s a collection of people making irrational decisions based on feelings. Are all romantic comedies like this?” he added, somehow feeling a small sense of hypocrisy but couldn’t understand why.

Mason let out a whistle, “Way to kill the mood, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

"Right," Liam muttered, looking back at his phone to update the list. "Irrational. Got it."

Theo shot the beta a look, wondering if what he felt was a flicker of disappointment because it went just as fast as it came. A little too quick for Theo to understand why it was there in the first place.

The next film was The Shining, a very famous psychological horror film that Nolan had chosen because it was already getting late and he had announced—quite defiantly—that he had no plans on watching a horror movie at midnight.

Alec coughed out the word ‘wimp’ under his breath so seamlessly that Theo briefly wondered if his own abrasive attitude was starting to bleed into the kid’s personality. Theo decided that wasn’t his problem, McCall made the choice and whatever consequences happened should be blamed on the Alpha.

By the time the eerie opening notes of the film filled the room, the pizza boxes were nothing but greasy cardboard skeletons. Theo shifted his attention to the bag of Skittles Nolan had brought, popping a handful of red and purple ones into his mouth. The artificial sweetness was a sharp, jarring contrast to the atmospheric dread on screen. Anticipating the inevitable teenage vacuum that was werewolf’s appetite, Theo grabbed a second bag and tucked it firmly under his thigh for later.

An hour in, Theo was fighting the urge to zone out. On screen, the isolation of the Overlook Hotel was meant to be suffocating, but to Theo, it just felt... slow.

He watched Jack Torrance’s descent into madness with a detachment, and thought clinically, in spite of himself, that he was weak. While the rest of the pack flinched with a forced sense of bravery at the twin girls or the blood pouring from the elevators, Theo just felt a profound sense of indifference. The overwhelming surge of fear and quick heartbeat he felt within the room seemed stupid given what they encountered in reality was worse.

They've been hunted by supernatural entities that could rewrite physics; a haunted hotel and a man with an axe felt like a vacation in comparison. Theo leaned back, the realization settling over him like a shroud: a decade of torture and a literal trip to hell had left him entirely desensitized.

His childhood ruined horror films for him. And Theo can’t help but feel a sense of bitterness at the idea that something as trivial as being scared of horror films was taken away from him.

When the credits rolled, the room was thick with a silence that Liam eventually broke. He shifted on the couch, his knee knocking against Theo’s, his heart fluttering with a nervous rhythm he was trying desperately to mask.

“So?” Liam asked, his voice low and searching. “Verdict?”

Theo gave a feigned, thoughtful hum. “The practical effects were decent.”

Liam’s brow furrowed immediately. “You got bored.”

“The story was good, I guess?” the Chimera added with a non-committal shrug.

“Fucking liar,” Liam bit out, though there was more frustration than heat in it. “This is one of the greatest films in the history under the horror genre and you got bored?”

“I’m not lying; the story was fine,” Theo argued, his own frown deepening. “It’s slow-paced for a reason, I get that. But if the goal is to induce fear, I’m clearly not the target audience. It’s just not that scary, Liam.”

“It’s not supposed to be ‘scary’ in a cheap way. It’s haunting, which makes it scary.”

“You’re really not selling me on the distinction,” Theo replied dryly. “I don’t think I can appreciate a horror film if it’s only mind numbing jumpscares with barely reasonable plot just for the sake of being scary. This? I can appreciate this film plot-wise, but as a horror movie? It didn’t do anything for me.”

“So you prefer story-driven films?”

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, isn’t it?” Theo said as if to point out the obvious.

“Ten Things I Hate About You is a story-driven film and you hated it.” Mason interjected, drawing the group's attention.

The chimera gave the human a flat look. “You think a bunch of teenagers orchestrating a moronic plan involving poorly executed manipulation just to secure a date to a dance is ‘story-driven’?”

“It’s called romance, and you’re officially ruining the magic for me,” Mason deadpanned.

Theo let out a heavy, weary sigh and stood up. Wanting to stretch his legs after long hours of sitting down. “I’m going to go pee. You kids pick out the third film while I’m gone.”

“Can I come?” Alec requested standing up quickly and a little too enthusiastic. He blinked around when he realized everyone’s attention was on him. “I… I can’t pee alone. After watching that.”

Theo tried his best to keep the pure disappointment off his face. “You’ve been human trafficked by hunters,” he reminded the youngest Beta. “Are you actually a child?”

“You called me a kid literally ten seconds ago. Also, I’m fifteen. It checks out,” Alec replied. He sounded far too proud of his own logic, which Theo found deeply bothersome.

Theo exhaled sharply and jerked his head toward the door, signaling for the teen to follow. “And yet you bitch every time I call you a baby.”

“You were deliberately provoking me then! How was I not supposed to bitch?” Alec defended himself, nearly tripping over the edge of the rug as he scrambled to keep pace with Theo’s exit.

Theo and Alec returned from the hallway just as the opening credits of the third film began to roll. Mason had insisted on Superbad, claiming it was the quintessential ‘coming-of-age. comedy that every teenager needed to see to understand the true meaning of friendship and fake IDs.

And also an obvious palette cleanse from the previous film.

“Stiles said this is the holy grail of coming-of-age comedies,” Liam informed the chimera, leaning back into the cushions.

Somehow that statement didn’t feel reassuring.

Theo returned to his spot and made himself comfortable as the film started. He lasted exactly eighteen minutes.

He sat through the frantic, high-pitched bickering and the agonizingly awkward attempts to buy alcohol, his brow furrowing deeper with every passing second. By the time the characters reached the liquor store, Theo’s patience had snapped. He didn’t just huff; he reached for the remote on the coffee table and pressed the stop button with a finality that echoed through the room.

The reaction of the room was instantaneous.

“Hey! We were getting to the good part!” Liam protested, sitting up so abruptly his shoulder knocked into Theo’s.

“What good part? There is no good part,” Theo stated, his voice tight with genuine irritation.

“It just started,” Liam argued, gesturing wildly at the frozen screen. “It’s a classic, Theo. It’s literally on the Must-Watch list for a reason.”

“I don't care if it's the cinematic equivalent of the Bible,” Theo snapped, not letting go of the remote. “This whole film is about three idiots who lack even the most basic logic. It’s painful, it’s loud, it’s annoying and I’m done with it.”

“It's a coming-of-age comedy.” Mason argued, throwing his hands up. "It’s about the bond of friendship. The struggle of the everyman!"

“It’s stupid,” Theo deadpanned. “It isn't even funny.”

“I think it’s funny?” Nolan offered quietly from the armchair, his shoulders hiking up to his ears as Theo’s gaze flickered toward him.

“Sure you do, Van Helsing.” Theo retorted dryly.

“Ha! Van Helsing is a vampire slayer,” Liam announced proudly, pointing a finger at the Chimera as if he’d finally caught him in a mistake.

“He’s a monster slayer in general, Liam,” Mason whispered, leaning over to his best friend. “Including werewolves.”

“We should watch that next.” Corey commented with a thoughtful hum.

“Fuck no.” Alec complained shortly from the floor.

“We’re digressing so badly right now.” Nolan commented, looking back and forth between the bickering werecreatures.

Remembering why the movie had been cut short in the first place, Liam sobered up. He reached out, aiming to snag the remote back. “We’re barely into the movie, Theo. It gets better, I promise.”

Theo was faster. He pulled the remote out of reach and tucked it firmly under his thigh. “I am not spending another hour watching this bullshit. Play the last film.”

“You can’t just quit a movie twenty minutes in,” Alec muttered from the floor, though he shrank back when Theo’s gaze landed on him.

“Actually, I can,” Theo said, as if reminding everyone in the room why they’re even here in the first place. “This entire marathon was because Liam wouldn’t let me watch in the cinema alone. Which means I shouldn't be forced to watch this shit for the sake of your nostalgia. I’ve had enough ‘coming-of-age’ nonsense to last me three lifetimes. If the next one involves a high school, a dance, or a group of boys who can’t talk to girls, I’m kicking everyone out.”

“Not your house.” Mason muttered under his breath causing Corey to elbow him lightly on the ribs, lips pursed as he forced himself not to laugh at the comment.

Liam stared at Theo, his mouth slightly agape. He looked at the discarded Superbad case, then back at Theo, whose jaw was set in a line of absolute, immovable resolve. The Beta groaned in frustration, finally slumping back.

“Fine,” Liam said quietly, reaching for his phone to add an entry. “Superbad is a DNF. Did Not Finish. Juvenile comedy is an immediate rejection.”

“Now wasn’t that so hard?” Theo muttered, finally leaning back.

“What’s the fourth one?” Corey asked, trying to bridge the tension.

“If you end up not liking this one, we should probably just give up and try to teach you how to knit instead.” Liam muttered and looked at the last DVD on the table, face freezing up. “The Pianist,” he announced.

A collective silent exchange happened in the room. Liam didn't move for a long moment; then, very slowly, he turned a flat, accusatory look toward Alec.

The youngest Beta raised his hands in mock surrender, shrinking back. “What? You said anything on Stiles’ list was fair game!”

The silence that followed the opening of The Pianist was different from the others. There was no rustling of snack bags or whispered jokes. As the story of a jewish man began to unfold, the air in the Geyer-Dunbar living room grew heavy, settling over them like a thick, woolen blanket.

Theo didn’t fidget. He didn't reach for the remote. He simply watched.

There was no high school drama or haunting twins. There was only the systematic stripping away of a man’s humanity, the cold efficiency of loss. Theo watched as the protagonist hid in the ruins of a city that had turned into a graveyard. He wasn't looking for flaws in the logic or mocking the pacing. He was absorbing the sheer, grueling resilience of the human spirit when it is reduced to nothing but breath and shadow.

As the hours ticked past midnight, the physical toll of the marathon began to claim the others. Alec was the first to go, slumped awkwardly against the base of Theo’s leg. Corey quietly disappeared into sleep while Nolan followed soon after once the film settles into long survival stretches, their breathing syncing up into the rhythmic hum of deep sleep.

Beside him, Liam’s head began to bob. The Beta fought it for a while, his eyelids fluttering as he tried to keep his promise to finish the list, but eventually, gravity won. He tilted sideways, his head coming to rest firmly on Theo’s shoulder.

Theo stiffened for a fraction of a second, and gave the beta glance, only to see Liam’s unconscious face knocked out cold with his mouth hanging open. A second later, he snored. Theo frowned and tipped his mouth close with his finger before adjusting his shoulder so Liam could perch against it comfortably.

Theo sat through the film until the credits finally rolled in.

He didn't enjoy the film—the word felt too shallow, too cheap for what he was witnessing. He wouldn't call it a favorite, and he certainly wouldn't watch it for comfort. But as the final notes played and the credits began to roll in the dark, silent room, he didn't reach for the remote to stop them.

“Maybe you’re really boring,” Mason said within the darkened quiet room, his voice heavy as if he was close to nodding off. “And the only thing exciting about you is because of the Dread Doctors’ fault.”

It’s exactly the Doctors’ fault why he can’t enjoy such trivial films like Superbad. But that doesn’t need mentioning.

“I respect the film, but I don’t think it’s worth a rewatch.” Theo replied, not saying how he didn’t like what he felt at the conclusion of the film. “I like it enough not to hate it.”

It was the first time a screen had shown him something that didn't feel like a lie.

Mason stared at him and stared at Liam, his expression confirming nothing for Theo to read. The human said nothing before settling himself better beside his boyfriend and closing his eyes to sleep.

Theo didn’t know how long he sat alone in the blue light of the television. Slowly, he turned the television off with the remote.

---

Four days later, Theo found himself standing in front of a pastry shop, glaring at a strawberry cupcake as if it were a personal insult. He huffed and turned to walk away, only to spin back around five seconds later with a look of grim determination. He marched into the bakery and bought the damn thing—mostly because he had the money, and he had a sudden, annoying lack of self-control.

Two days ago, Theo had made the unfortunate discovery that he possessed a massive sweet tooth.

After a grueling morning training session with Alec and a quick lunch shared with Parrish and the Sheriff, Theo clocked in for his shift. He headed straight for his and Parrish’s shared table, only to stop short when he noticed a glass bowl overflowing with colorful candies resting right on top of his research files. He leveled the Hellhound with a furrowed stare, a silent question written across his face.

Parrish explained that he’d found a lost Pomeranian while on his way to work—one of the dozens of missing pets currently cluttering the bulletin board. When he returned the dog to the address on its collar, the owner, a woman in her mid-forties who had been stress-eating her way through her dog’s absence, insisted on giving him a massive bag of sweets as compensation. It was all she had to offer.

Theo rolled his eyes at the story and immediately got to work. Parrish, who wasn't a fan of sugar, spent the next hour making his way around the office, handing the candy out to everyone—including Theo.

Theo had initially declined. He wasn't in the mood to clutter his workspace with sticky wrappers, and his upbringing hadn't exactly fostered a love for dessert. His life before the Doctors had been restricted by a sickly body, and the Doctors themselves didn't exactly hand out gold stars—or lollipops—when he successfully shifted into a four-legged wolf.

Realizing another missing experience in his childhood, he tried one.

Then came back for another because he finished the first one.

The next thing Theo knew, he was sitting with a lollipop stick protruding from the corner of his mouth, blindly reaching for a fresh treat only to find his fingers hitting the bottom of an empty bowl. He blinked once before slowly checking the trash can beside him only to find it filled with used candy wrappers.

He stared.

“Woah,” Parrish said, returning from a meeting with the Sheriff. He stopped at the desk, his eyebrows shooting toward his hairline. “Did you finish the whole thing?”

Theo said nothing. If he didn't acknowledge it, perhaps it hadn't happened.

“Didn’t know you had such a sweet tooth on you.” Parrish added, his tone far too amused for Theo’s liking.

Looking back, it made sense how he finished a fucking tub of ice cream all alone in one seating without being fed up with the sugary taste.

That’s how Theo ended up eating a strawberry cupcake at the diner as for his dessert. He took one massive bite after another, pointedly ignoring the Sheriff’s stare from across the booth. Fortunately, the old man decided not to comment on it, but instead asked everyone if they’re ready to go once Theo finished his treat.

Their micro reaction was enough for Theo to rightfully assume that Liam’s reaction to his knack for sweets might be monumental for the beta. He’ll deal with that on the weekend along with the continuation of watching four different movies again.

“Agent McCall finally sent over the rest of the documents Stiles retrieved from the warehouse. It’s on your desk,” the Sheriff informed him as they pushed through the precinct doors, the air of the station thick with the smell of stale coffee and paperwork.

“About time,” Theo grumbled, checking his watch. “I’ve been requesting those copies for weeks.”

The Sheriff let out a weary, overworked huff. “Just be grateful McCall even let you see them.”

Theo paused and stared, a frown already formed across his forehead. “You want me to be grateful?” he asked, his voice dripping with a fake, thoughtful hum. “Grateful that Agent McCall took away my research without my notice—the very same research that helped them on their own research and investigation? The files they are only 'lending' back to me because—let’s admit it—I’m better at this than they are?”

Theo didn’t wait for an answer. “Not to mention if I didn’t initiate on attacking Monroe’s base up north, he wouldn’t even have her files to begin with. Tell me again why should I be grateful and not pissed that I can’t even have a copy?”

The Sheriff offered nothing but a blank, unimpressed stare. Beside them, Parrish silently excused himself out of the conversation, marching straight to their shared desk.

“We get it, Raeken. You’re a smartass,” the Sheriff sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Just get to work.”

Theo didn’t wait to be told twice. He retreated to his desk and slid on his headphones, the first track of his work playlist immediately drowning out the precinct hum. He pulled open his second drawer—the one now dedicated to his sugar stash—and fished out a lollipop. He’d picked up a bag of assorted flavors at a convenience store on a whim, and he was currently working his way through the variety to determine which were tolerable and which were garbage.

So far, everything’s on par for his taste.

He adjusted his stack of papers, his eyes landing on the unfamiliar folder. He grabbed his pen and flipped it open, skimming the first few lines for a quick rundown. He turned the page, ready to make a notation, but his hand froze in mid-air.

Theo stared at the document.

He blinked once, then twice, before slowly setting his pen down. “This is the file Stilinski retrieved at the warehouse?” he asked Parrish without making eye contact, his gaze fixated on the printed words.

“Yeah,” Parrish replied easily, not looking up from his own screen. “Came in just this morning.”

Theo snapped the folder shut and stood up. He ignored the Hellhound’s confused call as he marched toward the Sheriff’s office, pushing the door open without a second thought for the concept of knocking.

“The hunters are going through the Doctors’ old bases outside Beacon Hills.” he immediately announced, door clicking shut behind him.

The Sheriff looked up, unsurprised while leveling him with a skeptical, pointed look. “And you’re certain of this because...?”

“Because,” Theo said, throwing the folder onto the desk with a heavy thud, “I wrote these.”

The confusion on the older man’s face was instantaneous. “What?”

“I wrote them,” Theo repeated, his voice tight. “I studied McCall’s pack for months before I ever set foot back in this town. I mapped their weaknesses, their histories—I treated it like a laboratory experiment. I compiled these files, Stilinski. And I left them at a fallback base in California, nowhere near the warehouse.”

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Agent McCall didn’t want me to see these because they contain detailed research on his own son. He must have been desperate to finally let me see them.”

“And that’s why you think Monroe is hitting the old labs,” The sheriff answered, immediately getting to the main point.

“I don’t just think it, I know it,” Theo corrected. “Look, the Doctors’ here in Beacon Hills have more dangerous research, artifacts, you don’t know the half of it. If they get their hands on this—”

“I get it,” the Sheriff cut in. He stood up and reached for his landline, his expression shifting into something grim and decisive.

Theo blinked in surprise, “That’s it? You’re not telling me to stay in my lane? To wait?”

The Sheriff let out a heavy huff, “The last time I told you to wait, you almost got yourself killed,” he said, almost in a matter of fact tone. “But if we do end up having to wait over the weekend and you go against orders again? I’m pulling you out. I don’t care how indispensable you think you are; you’ll be off the case for good.”

Theo frowned, “I—”

“Hey, Scott? It’s Noah…” the Sheriff said into the receiver, raising a sharp hand to Theo’s face to silence him. “I’m calling about the search for Monroe. Raeken found something about…”

Theo slowly tuned out the conversation.

Wait.

The Sheriff had given him an ultimatum: wait, or lose his place at the table permanently. He and Noah Stilinski weren't close, but Theo knew enough about the man to know it wasn't an empty threat. Through the glass window of the office, Theo stared at the piles of research on his desk.

Monroe was a threat, but she was currently at a distance. This wasn't as dire as having an active target at Liam’s head. Not yet.

Theo can wait.

Theo can fucking wait this time, just enough not to get himself from being pulled out the case.

---

After discussing scheduling conflicts—and Theo’s blatant grumbling from the sidelines—a pack meeting was officially set at the end of the week at Deaton’s clinic. Theo had tried to push for an immediate Friday morning briefing, only for the Sheriff to level him with a look that served as a silent, stern reminder of their earlier ultimatum.

The venue and date were deliberately held at a place that weren’t Scott’s, mainly because the Alpha had requested not to include Alec due to his still ongoing training and hair trigger reactions, that Theo argued had improved somehow just for the sake of being defensive.

The delay meant Theo clocked out hours later than usual. He opted for a drive-thru dinner, shooting Jenna a text to let her know he’d be late and was eating out. A minute later, his phone buzzed; Liam was demanding a greasy takeout of his own, claiming a sudden craving.

The sun had been down for hours, but the humid summer air still clung to Theo’s skin like a second layer of clothing. He stepped into the Geyer-Dunbar kitchen, his mind heavy with the recent case file and the smell of precinct coffee. He expected silence assuming both Jenna and David are resting in their shared room if the doctor wasn’t at the hospital.

He instead got Liam, immediately taking Theo’s take out from him and grabbing the newly free hand to drag the chimera towards the kitchen.

“Sit,” Liam commanded, pointing to a bar stool. He tossed a handkerchief across the counter before unwrapping his burger and taking a massive bite.

Theo stared at it, then at the array of small ramekins and spoons laid out like a chemical lab. "I just spent hours looking at case files, Dunbar. What the hell am I looking at?” he asked exasperatedly.

“For your ‘Personality Inventory’.” Liam said, his voice brimming with that annoying, earnest energy. “Blindfold on. Now. No cheating.”

“I’m not wearing a blindfold.” Theo argued dryly. “Who knows what you’ll end up feeding me.”

“Will you just humor me?” Liam groaned. “You’re such a judgmental nightmare. If I let you look at them first, you’ll talk yourself out of half of them before you even take a bite.”

Theo gave the beta a flat look. Being a picky eater was far from being one of Theo’s attributes; when you’ve spent years in survival mode, hunger makes even a sewer rat look like a viable option. He can heal, after all.

“I’ve been humoring your spoiled ass since the minute I crawled out of the ground, Liam,” he sighed, a sound of pure, practiced suffering. But he sat. He folded the handkerchief over his eyes and tied it. The world went black, leaving him with only his heightened senses—the hum of the refrigerator, the scent of Liam’s laundry detergent, and the frantic, rhythmic thump-thump of Liam’s heart.

Theo felt the subtle shift in the air as Liam moved closer. Hands gripped the base of Theo’s chair, swiveling him around until they were facing each other, the kitchen island at their side. The sharp click of a bottle cap opening echoed in the quiet.

"This is ridiculous," Theo muttered.

"Just tell me what you taste," Liam commanded.

A plastic spoon clicked against Theo’s teeth. He took the offering, his nose wrinkling almost instantly. The vinegar was low-quality and the salt content was so aggressive it drowned out any hint of actual spice. “What is this?”

“Hot sauce.” Liam answered easily. “You don’t like spicy stuff?”

“It tastes cheap, Liam. It’s a salt lick with an identity crisis,” Theo deadpanned.

“So hard to please. And you’re calling me spoiled?”

“If it tastes bad, it tastes bad.” Theo argued dryly. “That’s called having a palate, not a pedigree.”

“Cynic,” Liam grunted, though there was a smile in his voice. The scrape of a chair followed. “Try this.”

The second taste hit his tongue with a searing, clean heat. Theo’s eyes tracked instinctively under the cloth. This one had the sharp bite of cayenne and the depth of garlic. It was balanced, clearing the chemical aftertaste of the first sample.

“You like this one?” Liam asked.

Theo licked his lips, an act of self cleaning. “I don’t hate it.” Liam’s heartrate spiked up causing the chimera to frown, an indication of excitement doesn’t usually bode well. “I swear to god, Liam, if you make me eat shit—”

“What? No!” Liam defended, sounding genuinely aghast. He shifted in his seat, his knees brushing Theo’s. “Okay, so you prefer things spicey.” The immediate pause told Theo the beta just realized the innuendo of what he said. “Shut up, I heard it.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face said it for you,” Liam deadpanned. Theo heard the crinkle of a wrapper, followed by the soft, clean snap of something breaking. “Here, eat this,” Liam ordered. He thrust a small block of something toward Theo’s face. It hit his lips a little too hard, leaving a thick, warm smear against his skin.

Theo jerked back, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb. “What is this?” he asked, irritation flaring at the mess. The sticky sensation was a nuisance, but when he sucked his thumb to clean it, he tasted a rich bitterness followed by a wave of dark sweetness. “Is this choco—?”

Suddenly, Liam shoved the rest of the block into Theo’s mouth, his knuckles nearly barking against Theo’s teeth.

“Just eat it and tell me if you like it. Jesus!” Liam snapped. His voice was suddenly tight, a strange mix of frustration and heat bleeding into his scent.

Behind the blindfold, Theo blinked from the beta’s sudden outburst and checked his chemosignals. He didn’t feel angry, just more on simmering frustration tensing his whole body. As if he’s trying, and failing spectacularly, from ignoring something that’s obviously bothering him.

“You’re tense.” Theo stated simply. “I might be blind right now, but you smell foul.”

The spike of irritation immediately washed away Liam’s uneasiness. “Stop reading my chemosignal, jerk.” the beta hissed, kicking the side of the barstool Theo was sitting on. “It’s creepy.”

“You’re just saying that because you can’t read chemosignals for shit.” Theo retorted. He leaned back slightly, feeling a surge of irritating relief that he’d managed to snap Liam out of his mood. The fact that he was even monitoring Liam’s emotional state—and successfully regulating it—felt surreal enough to mess with his head.

“Whatever,” Liam grumbled before huffing. “So? The chocolate?”

“I don’t hate it.” Theo answered with a shrug, “But I would prefer not to taste the bitter part.” the silence that followed told the chimera that the beta blinked at him. “Apparently I have a massive sweet tooth—Stop looking so shocked; I can hear your eyebrows hitting your hairline.”

“You like sweets?” Liam’s shock was palpable, vibrating in the air between them. “You? The guy who’s been drinking black coffee for breakfast likes sugar?”

“If you’re observant enough, I use five spoonfuls of sugar just to even out the taste.” Theo answered, as if pointing out the obvious.

“I just... I didn't peg you for a dessert person,” Liam stated sheepishly.

“It’s a hell of a lot better than that bargain-bin hot sauce you just tried to poison me with.”

“Okay, you’re pushing it.” Liam retorted dryly before shuffling in his seat. “You might like this one, though you already said you like sweet stuff so this is barely a discovery.”

Theo opened his mouth anticipating the spoonful of whatever sugary sweetness Liam has to offer. It was salty, which threw him off but the sweetness was grounding. Almost as if the salt was an added flavour that enhances the taste better.

“Salted caramel?” Theo asked. He licked the corner of his mouth where a bit of the excess paste had smeared, his tongue catching the lingering heat of the sugar.

Theo expected an answer, probably a bitter retort about Theo asking the flavour when he probably already knew. He does, he had caramel flavoured candy at the Sheriff Station but the salt was a new one for him. The mix of flavor was surprisingly good.

But he heard nothing.

Instead, he felt the soft pressure of Liam’s lips against his own.

It was brief—a frantic, clumsy ghost of a kiss—but it hit Theo like a physical concussion, a surge of grounding electricity rushing from his chest to the tips of his claws. It was soft and warm, but not hesitant, almost impulsive. For one agonizing, beautiful second, the darkness behind the handkerchief didn’t feel like a void.

Before the Chimera could even breathe, the warmth vanished.

Theo ripped the handkerchief from his eyes, the kitchen lights blinding him for a fraction of a second. His vision snapped into focus on Liam, who had recoiled three feet, his face a violent, bruised shade of crimson, his chest heaving.

“I don't know why I did that,” Liam blurted out, his voice cracking.

Theo didn't speak. He couldn't. His heart was a wild, trapped animal slamming against his ribs. He stood up, the chair screeching a jagged protest against the tile, and began to march toward Liam.

Liam’s pupils were blown wide with terror. He started backtracking, his heels hitting the linoleum in a frantic rhythm. “I—I seriously don't know why I did that! I think it was the—the humidity! Fuck, say something!”

Theo didn't stop, didn’t say anything. He kept coming, his expression a mask of stony, unreadable intensity, his eyes locked on the frantic pulse jumping in Liam’s throat.

“I don't know why I did that!” Liam’s voice climbed into a higher, hysterical register as his back slammed into the stainless steel of the refrigerator. He was trapped. “It was an accident! A reflex! A—a biological glitch! My brain short-circuited!” he nearly screeched. “Look, I really don’t know why I did that!”

“You don't just 'don't know' something like that.” Theo finally rasped, the words vibrating with a dangerous, low-frequency, throwing the same damn words Liam used against him.

Based on the look of pure, mortified recognition on the Beta’s face, the blow landed. “That’s— I-I–”

Theo stopped mere inches away, his shadow looming over Liam, pinning him in place. He didn't growl. He didn't shift. He just leaned into Liam’s personal space, his wide, dark eyes searching every inch of Liam’s panicked face for the truth.

“Theo?” Jenna’s voice suddenly drifted down from upstairs, cutting through the tension like a blade. Both of them froze instantly. “Are you down there?”

Theo flexed his jaw, his gaze never leaving Liam’s blown-out eyes. He took a single, stabilizing breath, before finally turning his head toward the stairs. “Yeah?”

“Can you grab an extra light bulb from the pantry? The one in the upstairs bathroom just died on me!” she called back.

“Sure,” Theo answered, his voice remarkably steady despite the electricity still humming under his skin. He didn't move immediately; he kept his eyes bored into Liam for one last, weighted second, watching the Beta’s chest heave.

The moment Theo finally straightened and turned away, the silence was shattered by a frantic scuffle of sneakers on linoleum. Liam didn't just walk away—the fucker bolted. The heavy, thundering rhythm of his footsteps echoed through the hallway and up the stairs, followed by the distant, decisive thud of a bedroom door slamming shut.

Theo stood alone in the kitchen, the taste of salt and caramel still lingering on his tongue, now overshadowed by the ghost of a sensation. He looked at the array of ramekins on the counter and frowned after realizing he has to clean that up.

With a sharp, jagged exhale, Theo dragged both hands over his face, his fingers catching on the bridge of his nose. He stayed like that for a short moment, grounded in the hum of the empty kitchen, trying to figure out how the hell did he not notice the signs.

Was he slowly slipping?

---

Theo had finally drifted into a heavy, dreamless sleep, the rhythmic thrum of Liam’s heartbeat acting as a low-frequency lullaby through the wood. He was leaning his full weight against the door, the cool surface a familiar feeling against his back.

Without warning, the support vanished. The door swung inward with a sharp creak, and gravity claimed him. The back of his skull met the hardwood floor with a sickening thud that vibrated through his teeth and sent a jarring shock up his spine.

“Jesus— fuck,” Theo wheezed down on the floor.

He blinked his vision back into focus, only to find himself staring straight up into a pair of wide, startled blue eyes. Liam was looming over him, his silhouette framed by the dim light of his bedroom. His face was a messy map of bewilderment and burgeoning horror.

“What the hell were you doing sleeping against my bedroom door?” Liam asked, his voice low but sharp.