Chapter Text
Theo jolted awake with a desperate cry, his chest heaving as he fought for air. Sweat clung to his white shirt, soaking it through and plastering it to his skin. His heart pounded in his ears, a relentless drumming that matched the jagged rhythm of his breaths.
It was that nightmare again. The same one that had tormented him every night for years. No matter how many times he tried to dissect it, to unravel its meaning, it always eluded him. It made no sense, yet it left him shaken to his core.
In the dream, he watched his sister, Tara, freeze to death. Over and over, the image replayed—a terrible loop he couldn't escape. Her pale body floated in the icy river, her skin ghostly white, lips tinged blue, and her foot bent at an unnatural angle. The sight of her broken, helpless form was seared into his mind.
In his dreams, she begged him to help her, her cries piercing the cold air as she reached for him from the water. And every time, he stood frozen on the wooden bridge, paralyzed, watching her sink into the frigid depths. No matter how much he willed himself to move, no matter how loudly he screamed at his own body, he couldn’t break free from the invisible chains holding him back.
The memory made Theo shudder, his hands raking through his damp hair. Even awake, the weight of it lingered, a suffocating dread that pressed against his chest. He hated his own mind for conjuring such vivid horrors. He hated himself for his helplessness.
But this wasn’t reality. Tara was alive. She was safe. Theo clung to that fact like a lifeline. In the real world, outside of his nightmares, she was thriving. She’d moved away to college, sharing a modest apartment with her long-time boyfriend. Though his parents avoided mentioning her much these days, her well-being offered him a shred of comfort.
Still, her absence stung. Beacon Hills, his new—old—home, felt emptier without her. This was his first night back, and the weight of loneliness was already settling in.
Theo shifted, folding his arms under his pillow as he stared at the ceiling, the pale glow of moonlight filtering through the blinds. His breathing had steadied, but sleep was a distant hope. His parents had dragged the family back to Beacon Hills in the hopes that familiar surroundings might bring some semblance of peace to his restless nights. They seemed convinced that the town where he’d spent his childhood held the key to banishing his nightmares.
He wasn’t so sure.
Beacon Hills had once been a haven for mischief, a place where he’d run wild with the handful of close friends he’d managed to make. Now, the town felt foreign, a distant echo of a life he barely remembered. Would those friends still be here? Would they even recognize him?
Not that his parents cared much about his struggles. They’d stopped checking on him long ago, even when his screams pierced the silence of the night. Sometimes, Theo thought they were afraid of him, the way they avoided his eyes and kept their conversations with him clipped and superficial. Their relationship had withered to the barest threads, frayed and strained.
Now, here he was, wide awake, staring down the hours until morning. His alarm clock would buzz soon, dragging him into the first day of school at Beacon Hills High. Theo groaned softly, burying his face in his pillow. How pathetic was he? Nervous energy gnawed at his insides, and the prospect of sleep felt laughable.
Eight years had passed since he’d last lived here. He was older now—twice the age he’d been then—and carrying twice the baggage. The thought made him sigh, the sound low and bitter in the quiet room.