Chapter Text
Theo pulled into the Dunbar-Geyer’s empty driveway, recalling Liam's mention of his parents working a lengthy twelve-hour shift. A wave of relief washed over Theo; he could spare Jenna and David from witnessing their son in this sickly state.
In the passenger seat, Liam dozed peacefully, his tight grip on Theo's hand having loosened during the drive, leaving only their fingertips entwined. Theo carefully extracted his hand from Liam’s, a gesture that seemed unnecessary, given he would have to wake the other boy anyway. As Theo powered down the truck's engine and unclasped his seat belt, he found no further excuses to delay waking Liam.
The moonlight flitted across Liam's serene face, giving him an angelic glow. Theo had never been one to believe in angels. He harbored skepticism even now after meeting one. But, in that moment, if someone were to tell him Liam was an angel? He would believe them wholeheartedly.
“I can hear you thinking,” Liam mumbled drowsily, his eyes still shut.
The unexpected words jolted Theo from his thoughts. "How long have you been awake?" he asked.
"Since we pulled in the driveway," Liam replied, finally opening his eyes. "Was waiting to see if you'd carry me again."
Theo rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You were unconscious last time; I had to carry you," he teased.
Liam chuckled lightly, leaning back against the seat, letting the truck lapse into silence. Not bothering to unbuckle his seat belt, Liam showed no signs of wanting to leave the truck. Theo decided to follow Liam's lead, opting not to push him.
Eventually, Liam broke the silence, "You could stay over.” It was quiet, so quiet Theo was sure he had imagined it. Theo had only stayed at Liam's once before, and that time was more about stopping Liam's relentless pestering about his living situation.
Liam looked at him impossibly wide-eyed. His hair, still aglow with silver moonlight, fell perfectly around his face, even though it should be disheveled from sleeping. Theo was convinced: Liam was secretly an angel.
“Ok,” Theo said softly.
Theo grabbed his duffel bag from the back seat and trailed after Liam. Theo couldn’t help feeling awkward following Liam into the house. He had been there a few times in the past, but only ever to pick Liam up, and he was never inside for longer than it took to say hello to Liam’s parents. He couldn't pinpoint why the house made him uneasy. Perhaps it was an unsettling intuition, a voice at the back of his mind cautioning against getting too close. Of course, that same cautionary unease could be applied to Liam himself. But Theo knew he couldn't distance himself from Liam if he tried—it was too late; their connection had already woven itself deeply into his being.
The memory of the first night he met Liam flashed through Theo's mind: the night Stiles had dragged the young werewolf into the woods, convinced that Theo was up to no good. Stiles, as usual, had been right, and Theo should hate the memory of that night, along with all the other things he hated about himself and his past. Yet, because of Liam, it became an exception. "I love this kid," Theo had joked that night, unaware of how profoundly true those words would become.
The weight of this realization dawned on Theo, and it should have scared him or, at the very least, surprised him. Instead, Theo felt enveloped in a bittersweet embrace—content in his love for Liam but regretfully aware that he would force himself to keep his affection hidden.
When Liam stopped at his bedroom door, blindly reaching for the handle, Theo kept walking down the hall toward the guest room.
"Where are you going?" Liam's small voice echoed.
Theo was at a loss for words; even if he attempted to speak, he doubted he could string together a coherent sentence. Instead, he raised a hand and pointed towards the guest room door.
Liam shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, absentmindedly picking at the skin around his nails. Theo took a step forward, swatting the younger's hands away. "Don't do that," he said.
"Can't you just stay with me?" Liam asked, his gaze fixed on the floor. When Theo remained silent, Liam looked up, meeting his eyes. "Your heartbeat is comforting."
A flush spread across Theo's face, and he hoped his cheeks weren't as red as they felt. "Um, you can hear my heartbeat from down the hall, can't you?" Theo stuttered.
"Please," Liam sounded more tired than Theo had ever heard him. "My head is killing me, and I don't want to strain my ears."
Liam appeared on the verge of collapsing at any moment; he needed rest, and Theo felt a need to care for him. Theo nodded mutely. When he finally managed to retrieve words from his throat, he said, "Okay, I'll stay. I'm just gonna go change."
When Theo returned to Liam’s room, the door was left ajar for him, and a subtle glow was cast around the room from the small nightlight. Liam lay nestled under the covers, eyes shut and breath steady. Theo contemplated sneaking back to his truck where he could grapple with both the realization of his feelings from Liam and the revelation of Liam finding Theo’s presence comforting, in peace. Theo had no such luck.
"You're thinking too loud again," Liam mumbled.
Theo attempted to diffuse the awkwardness with a joke. "You do know werewolves can't read minds, right?"
"Yeah, but I know you well enough to sense when you're overthinking," Liam replied, and really, in his sleepy state, Liam was giving Theo far too much to overthink about.
Theo closed the door behind him, dropping his bag beside the bed. "I have to overthink; it compensates for your underthinking," he quipped.
"Ha ha," Liam responded dryly, eyes still closed, which Theo was slightly grateful for, but it also had concern racing through him. Just how bad was Liam’s headache?
Personal space was somewhat of a foreign concept to Liam, but Theo left an uncertain gap between himself and Liam as he slipped under the covers. He waited for Liam's breathing to even out again. Staring at the ceiling, Theo pondered every moment that led to this, and accepted the reality that sleep would elude him tonight.
.......
Theo's eyes snapped open, revealing the utter darkness around him. The air in the cramped mortuary freezer felt suffocating, the touch of cold, smooth steel against his skin paralyzing. Before the panic could set in, Theo kicked open the little metal door, scrambling toward freedom from the cramped metal coffin.
Everything about the morgue was familiar; the eerie blue light casting sinister shadows across the floors, and the rusting tools left haphazardly on the tables. Worst of all was the smell, the noxious stench of formaldehyde choking him. Heart pounding, Theo waited for Tara to come and take what was rightfully hers.
As the seconds ticked by, Tara failed to materialize. Theo's head swam with anxiety, every passing moment intensifying the haunting stillness of the morgue. In the unsettling quiet, not even a whisper of Tara's voice reached Theo's ears, filling him with an unknown dread.
Theo crept toward the doors as hesitantly as the first time he lived this nightmare, when he didn't know the pain that awaited him. A rattling breath passed his lips as he pushed open the doors to the morgue.
The fallen autumn leaves crunched beneath Theo's feet as he stepped onto the path of the Beacon Hills Preserve. This wasn't right. Theo pivoted to face the morgue only to realize it had vanished. In its stead, a dense forest of towering dark trees blended seamlessly with the ink-black canvas of the night sky. His breath, now reduced to short, labored huffs, barely reached his lungs. The stream and the old wooden bridge were barely visible through the darkness, but Theo knew they were there. He wanted to run, but he couldn't move. From the depths of the dimly lit woods, a figure began to materialize—a young woman, maybe a few years older than him—she was walking toward him.
As she got closer, Theo realized it was Tara. Grown-up: with no green tint to her skin, no rotting flesh barely clinging to her body, and most notably, no hole in her chest.
"Theo," she said sweetly.
Theo's breath caught in his throat, rendering him immobile. Tears welled up in his eyes, and a profound sense of helplessness consumed him.
"Theo," Tara repeated, her tone laced with accusation. "You're a murderer, Theo."
Despite the venom in her voice, Tara looked happy. Theo wondered, not for the first time, how good Tara’s life would be, how good his parents’ lives would be if he had just let the Dread Doctors kill him nine years ago.
"You're a monster," Tara declared, advancing toward him. Her body began to distort, the illusion peeling away to reveal the gruesome consequences of Theo's actions.
"Psychopath!" Tara spat, her skin taking on an unnatural hue, veins bulging grotesquely.
"You did this to me," she seethed, each step accompanied by the sickening sound of breaking ribs, blood seeping through her torn shirt as the wound in her chest reopened.
"You're right," Theo sobbed.
Tara relentlessly pressed forward, her accusatory words cutting through the air. "Monster!" she shrieked, fingers gnarled and decayed, sinking into Theo's shoulders like claws. "Murderer!" With force, she shoved him to the ground, her fury unleashed as she clawed over his chest. "Psychopath!"
“I’m sorry,” Theo whispered. He knew it meant nothing, but he had to say it; Theo needed Tara to hear it.
"You deserve this," Tara spat with disdain.
Theo braced himself for what he thought would be his last breath. Tara suddenly stood up and vanished, leaving him gasping for air, his wounds ignored in the moment. Slowly sitting up, Theo winced.
A distant shuffling sound seized Theo's attention. He looked up to find Tara reappeared, her left arm tightly wrapped around Liam's shoulders, her right hand plunging into his chest.
"No!" Theo cried desperately, but his plea fell on deaf ears.
Theo felt like the darkness was closing in on him, the trees pushing forward, creating a cell he couldn’t escape.
Tara's chilling words hung in the air, "You took my heart; now I'll take yours." She thrust her hand through Liam's chest, seizing his heart and tearing it from his body. Liam's breath sputtered to a stop, his limp form crumpling to the ground.
.......
Theo jolted awake, a strangled gasp escaping his lips as if the nightmare's suffocating grip still held him. His hands tangled in the sheets, clutching the soft fabric like a lifeline to the waking world. The remnants of the dream lingered, casting a murky haze over Theo's consciousness. Through the dissipating fog, he could barely register the urgent sound of Liam's voice calling his name.
"Theo," Liam said desperately. "Theo, you're awake! It's okay; you're okay."
Theo felt his body trembling with every breath, caught in the residual tremors of the nightmare. "Here, breathe with me," Liam soothed gently. He placed a hand carefully over Theo's heart, feeling it beat against his palm. "Breathe in," Liam guided, and Theo instinctively followed the instruction. Liam silently counted to four, his voice barely audible as he softly urged, "Breath out."
The two boys sat there for an indeterminate amount of time, their breaths synchronized, with Liam's warm hand a comforting anchor over Theo's heart. Theo was surprised that the touch didn't repulse him; instead, Liam's touch brought an unexpected sense of solace.
"What happened?" Liam asked. He didn't expect an answer; Theo rarely shared the details of his nightmares. Typically, he'd brush it off with a casual "Don't worry, it was just a bad dream."
This dream must have been truly awful; tears streamed down Theo's cheeks as he asked, "What if it didn't work?"
"What?" Liam asked, perplexed.
"The spell. What if it didn't work? What if Tara's still out there?" Theo questioned, his voice heavy with worry.
Liam was at a loss for comforting words, but he pressed on. "Then we come up with something else," he asserted, his tone steady, even when facing uncertainty.
Theo wiped his tears away, regaining his composure. "I don't want you to get hurt," he confessed.
Liam appeared even more confused by this revelation. "I'm not the one in danger; Tara is after you. It's you we should be worried about," Liam reasoned.
Theo held back the retort, ‘I don't matter,’ aware that Liam wouldn't appreciate the sentiment. Instead, he asked, "What happens when Tara's gone? What happens when the next supernatural threat comes to town, and we have to deal with it?"
Liam looked like he had grappled with that question before; his sullen expression told Theo he never heard an answer he liked. "Whatever it is, we can handle it," Liam said.
Theo wasn't entirely convinced, but as the adrenaline from his nightmare was waning, exhaustion crept in, and he felt as if he could sleep for years. Theo nodded in acknowledgment, reaching up to cover Liam's hand on his chest with his own.
"Are you okay?" Liam's concern resonated with his question. Theo responded with another nod. He then settled back down, finding the silence soothing.
Liam settled down next to Theo, much closer than before, their arms pressed together. “Scott used to talk about this thing, 'regression to the mean,'” Liam said. "It's like this idea that life can't be all good or all bad forever; eventually, it finds a balance."
Theo, intrigued, raised an eyebrow. "Alright, where's this headed?"
"It was his way of reminding us during tough times that things would eventually go back to normal," Liam clarified, his eyes reflecting the memories.
Theo, however, didn't embrace the concept. "I'm not a fan of waiting for life to magically get good. If I did that, I'd be waiting for a really long time," he said. "You've got to make life good, find those positive moments even in the chaos."
Liam, appreciating the sentiment, teased, "Well, look who's oddly optimistic."
Theo, in return, chuckled, "You're a bad influence."
Liam enjoyed seeing this side of Theo. The softer side that let himself laugh. Liam loved seeing Theo's eyes crinkle when he smiled. Liam loved that Theo would let his guard down around him, even if only a little bit. Liam loved that Theo felt comfortable with him. Liam loved Theo, plain and simple.
Liam leaned ever so slightly closer to Theo, "I like your philosophy much more than 'regression to the mean.'"
Theo, feeling more at ease now, couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah? What's one of your good moments?" he inquired, his gaze involuntarily dropping to Liam's lips.
A radiant smile illuminated Liam's face as he shared, "Breaking your nose at the zoo." His sentence broken with giggling. "Three times," he added, completing the thought.
Theo laughed along with him, "you jerk," Theo joked.
"Well, what about you?" Liam asked. "What's one of your good moments?"
Theo, caught in the moment, held his breath before admitting softly, "This is."
The admission overwhelmed Theo, he must be delirious. A hint of panic set in. However, Liam responded with a tender smile. "Good," he murmured, leaning down to rest his head on Theo's shoulder. The connection between them felt genuine, and for a moment, everything else faded away.