Chapter Text
If someone had told Liam that the things that occurred during his sophomore year were even a remote possibility, he would’ve scoffed in their face and rearranged their jaw, especially the latter since when the year began, his I.E.D. had still been out of control.
Now, though…The person he’d once been and the person he was today were absolute strangers, polar opposites of one another. Well…maybe not entirely. He’d always had a hair-trigger temper and probably always would but nowadays he only allowed that side of him to take over when his or the life of one of the people he cared about was in danger which, unfortunately, was terribly often.
Still…he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Liam lay on his bed staring up at the ceiling, trying his best not to think about the unthinkable.
It was hard, though. He truly believed that it was better that he didn’t remember what had happened two nights ago but his natural curiosity, and perhaps something else that he couldn’t quite put a name to, wouldn’t let him leave it alone entirely.
Sighing, he started counting the spots on his ceiling for about the tenth time.
“Liam?”
“Upstairs!” he called back.
A quick glance at his alarm clock showed that Mason was right on time. It was 4:00pm on the dot.
He’d let himself in with his key, something that had become a necessity back when Liam had transferred from Beacon Hills Middle School to Devenford Prep after the incident, aka, the fight that had made him Hayden’s mortal enemy. Devenford was further away than BHMS had been so on the days that Liam’s mom wasn’t home and Mason was coming over, he would let himself in, get a snack and wait in Liam’s room until the bus dropped him off. Mason was his bro for life and there was no one he trusted more so there’d been no doubt in his or his mom’s mind that giving him a key was the sensible thing to do.
Being reminded of the incident always soured his stomach a little. There was so much embarrassment attached to it. His I.E.D. had been undiagnosed at the time but even so, he hated having that as his legacy in middle school.
Devenford had been a second chance for him after his mom had been “advised” to remove him from the public school system. She’d assumed, hoped, that a more structured environment would do him some good. It had, to some extent. Devenford was way more competitive than public school had been, with the kids constantly trying to one-up one another, to be the best, and Liam had been able to channel his excess energies into it. It was what had made him so good at lacrosse. It had, however, also enabled him to tap into that over-flowing reservoir of anger that he’d apparently been unknowingly carrying around for years. When he’d flipped and destroyed his coach’s car, it had been a rude awakening for everyone, himself and his parents particularly. No one, not even he, had realized just how bad his disease was.
It made sense, therefore, why Stiles would assume that being bitten was the worst possible thing that could have happened to him but interestingly enough, the opposite seemed to be true. Back when he’d been a mere human, damaging things had been his way of venting, of expressing himself. He’d picked fights, knowing that he could hurt others but also knowing that he would get his fair share of licks as well, craving it almost. Now, however, he was always aware of just how much damage he could really inflict if he was of a mind to. That awareness kept him grounded, constantly reminding him that although he was capable of monstrous things, certainly had the strength to achieve it, he wasn’t in fact and didn’t want to be a monster. Beacon Hills High and Scott were his third chance. He was determined not to mess that up.
“’Sup, dude?” Mason greeted as he strode into his room.
“Hey,” Liam replied, tilting his head to look at his friend.
They’d spoken many times since the previous morning when he’d sent both Mason and Brett packing but they hadn’t seen each other until now.
“What are we doing?” Mason asked, flopping onto the bed beside him.
“Nothing,” he muttered. “Thinking.”
Mason remained quiet for a moment too long and Liam turned his head to cast a glance at him.
“What?”
“Nothing, I was just wondering… Did you remember anything else?” he asked cautiously.
“No.” That one word had a ring of finality to it. Case closed. End of discussion.
Of course Mason being Mason totally ignored Liam’s hint. “Li…I really think we should talk. Let me tell you what happened, at least.”
Liam sat up abruptly, blue eyes hardening. “No! I…it doesn’t matter, okay?”
Mason sat up too, his expression saying everything that his mouth wasn’t. “Have you spoken to Brett?”
Liam’s eyes unconsciously darted to his phone on the bedside table, thinking about the unread messages and unanswered calls it held. “No.” He frowned. “Have you?”
Mason waited a beat before answering. “Yeah. We talked when I dropped him off yesterday. And he came over for a bit last night.”
Liam’s heart clenched in his chest, an unusual feeling that he had no idea how to interpret. “Oh. I see.”
“Nothing happened if that’s what you’re wondering,” Mason added, his expression speculative.
Liam’s gaze dropped to his bedspread. “It doesn’t matter. You’re free to do as you please. Both of you.”
“Liam…”
“What?” Liam forced himself to look at Mason, forced the words past his lips. “You like him, I know you do. And he’s clearly into you if he came home with you and did…stuff. You should be happy.”
“He didn’t just come home with me,” Mason pointed out. “Brett’s a great guy, sure, and we had fun the other night, I’m not going to deny that. But as for anything more…I’m pretty sure that I’m not his type. Friday was a one-time deal.”
Liam’s frown returned, deeper than before. “What do you mean?”
“Just because we both like guys doesn’t automatically make us compatible, Li. Chemistry works the same for us homos as it does for you straights.”
“I know that,” Liam snapped, insulted by the insinuation. “But you basically slept together so that has to mean something.”
“We were drunk and high. We had fun.” Mason shrugged. “It doesn’t mean we have to settle down and have a family now. He’s not the first guy that I’ve hooked up with and he won’t be the last.”
Liam’s jaw dropped. “What?”
A faint blush appeared in Mason’s cheeks and he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Before I say anything else, I just want you to know that I don’t make a habit of it. I have been to Sinema before and I always have a good time. I just really wanted some company this time around. Usually it’s just me and maybe I’ll get lucky and meet someone. We’ll dance, make out, and that’s it. I go home alone to my house, not theirs. I’m not looking for random sex with strangers. I’d much rather have a steady boyfriend, you know that. It’s just that sometimes…Well, when you’re lonely, sometimes you don’t see anything wrong with taking what you can get in the moment.”
“Making out isn’t exactly hooking up,” Liam pointed out.
“Well…” Mason’s blush deepened. “There was one occasion where things got pretty hot and heavy with a guy in the bathroom and…stuff happened. Of the oral variety. I really surprised myself that time and I’ve made sure it’s never happened again. Not until Friday, that is.”
“Mason…” Liam was in partial shock, so much so that it was easy to ignore Mason’s last sentence and what it implied about what had taken place. “It’s not safe out there.”
“I know, trust me. And I’ve made sure nothing’s ever gone that far since. But Friday…that was different. I knew that the chances of you guys giving me something were the same as me infecting you: nil. You can’t get safer than absolute certainty.” Mason had the audacity to grin. Cheeky bastard.
“That’s not funny,” Liam groused.
Mason sighed. “I really wish you’d just let me tell you what happened. I think you’d feel much better if you did.”
“I highly doubt it,” Liam muttered, already mentally battling the image of Brett hovering above him as it threatened to fill his thoughts again. The memory simply wouldn’t go away and stay away.
“You should talk to Brett then,” Mason reasoned. “He hasn’t done anything wrong, Li. It’s not fair to treat him like some pariah. If we can patch things up then you can do the same with him.”
“We were never friends,” Liam argued. “It’s not the same.”
“I still think you should talk to him,” Mason pressed.
“Why?” Liam snapped, irritation quickly turning to anger. “Why are you pushing this so hard?”
“Because I think you need to. I suspect that if you talk to him, you’ll probably feel…enlightened.”
Liam frowned, not sure exactly what he meant by that. Not that he cared. Not that it mattered.
“Well, I don’t want to, okay? Now just drop it, please.”
Mason gave him a long, considering look before sighing, seemingly defeated. “Fine.”
Liam nodded. He’d won this battle but he knew his friend. Mason was persistent and wouldn’t leave him be until Liam knew every sordid detail about what had happened.
“So…COD or GTA?” he asked, slipping off the bed and walking over to his game console.
Mason’s eyes narrowed. “COD. I really feel like killing you right now.”
Liam’s lips twitched in amusement.
God, he loved Mason. He was the truest of friends.
Monday came and went, as did Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.
SSDD.
For once, he was grateful for the monotony of his life. Not that it was that monotonous, to be honest.
There was school, which he was only just average at; there was lacrosse, which he was pretty badass at, in his opinion, except for when he feared or felt himself losing control. That was never a good time for anybody. He’d lost count of the number of cold showers he’d had in the locker room, pressed against the hard tiles by Scott and Stiles’ restraining hands. Thankfully, there’d been no such episodes this week. Maybe he was finally getting a handle on his I.E.D. The thought was uplifting. Then there was the fact that there were were-creatures lurking in the gloom, just waiting to pop out and maim them. They didn’t know how many nor what kinds and they’d made very little headway in finding out. Finally, there was Hayden. While she still shot daggers at him with her eyes, she hadn’t uttered a single snide or vitriolic comment in his direction the entire week. That was progress as far as he was concerned. Still, he was determined to pay back the money he’d cost her and had already saved $43 doing chores around the house and helping out his dad.
When Friday rolled around and Mason casually suggested returning to Sinema, Liam simply looked at him. No words were necessary beyond that and Mason didn’t press.
It was around 6:00pm, as he lay in bed counting the spots on his ceiling again, that he found himself reconsidering. It wasn’t that he wanted to go to Sinema, of course not, but he didn’t like the idea of Mason being there alone, especially after his recent confession. He trusted his friend but people made mistakes all the time. Suppose some guy caught Mason in a moment of weakness and took advantage of him? Or suppose Mason’s whatever of the night turned out to be one of the were-creatures they were looking for? Mason could probably handle himself against a regular human being but considering that the pack was having a hard enough time surviving their encounters with them thus far, there was no way that Mason would.
Besides, it would give him an opportunity to give Hayden his first installment. He could give it to her in school but he’d rather not be embarrassed in front of people he had to see every day for the rest of his high-school career. Sinema was a lot safer.
He didn’t tell Mason that he had changed his mind, simply showed up at 10:00pm when he knew that Mason would be there. He even managed to sneak in the back without being noticed, for which he was grateful. He didn’t have any $50s lying around for bribes like Mason did.
It didn’t take him long to find his friend but when he did, he stayed close. Mason didn’t say anything when he suddenly appeared beside him but there was this look in his eyes that spoke volumes, making it hard for Liam to look him in the face.
He’d been there for about a half hour before he finally spotted Hayden. He told Mason he’d be back and took off after her.
Hayden wasn’t too happy to see him at first, looking frustrated and put out as she almost always did, but she surprisingly declined his money. He didn’t know how to interpret that. She needed the money, he knew it, and yet she was saying no.
Confused, he followed her to the back when the breaker gave out, helping her to flip the switch when it became obvious that she wasn’t strong enough. For a second, with his hand on hers and their eyes locked, he could’ve sworn that they shared something. A flicker of interest? A ‘moment’? He didn’t know.
Even more confused now, he thrust the money at her and promised that more was to come as soon as he was able before making his way back to Mason. But, of course, when he got to the spot that he’d left his friend, he was nowhere to be found. Calling him would be pointless because it was impossible to hear a phone ring or even feel a vibration with the volume of the bass in the club.
He circled the club, trying to peer into every nook and cranny that he could but there were way too many people, considerably more than the week before. He’d just made up his mind to check the men’s room when he saw him.
Like the week before, he was on an elevated platform, dancing. Unlike the week before, instead of trading off partners, he was sandwiched between two muscled, oily and thong-clad guys in some kind of grind-a-thon. One of the guy’s hands were sliding up the sides of his long torso and a second later, he was as topless as they were, their skin now rubbing against his bare flesh, transferring their shiny slickness.
A strange burn started in Liam’s chest and his hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his palms, a little too pointy to be entirely human. He shouldn’t care, he didn’t, but even though he willed himself to look away, for some reason he couldn’t.
Unbeknownst to him, a low rumble emitted from his throat and the wolf across the room heard it, head snapping up quickly, eyes catching and locking onto Liam’s.
When he realized that Brett was looking right at him, whatever Liam had been feeling was quickly doused and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He turned on his feet, heading to the bathroom to resume his search for Mason, not to hide from Brett, but before he could take two steps, an unforgiving hand clamped onto his arm, spinning him around.
“What the fuck was that?” Brett demanded.
Liam ground his teeth, yellow eyes flashing as he immediately responded to the tension building between them the only way he knew how: with aggression.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You know damn well what I mean, Liam. You don’t get to do that.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
“You haven’t returned my calls or responded to my texts. You can’t just come in here and act like you have the right.”
Liam wrenched his arm away. “Dude, I have no idea what you’re talking about but let me make one thing clear: I don’t care. About you, what you do, who you do. None of that means shit to me. Okay? Okay.”
It didn’t occur to him at the time but recalling the moment later on, Liam had never seen Brett look so stunned. It was like he’d been slapped, a blotchy redness leaching into his cheeks, spreading down his neck. He was momentarily speechless.
When he caught himself, Brett reached for him again. “Liam…”
Liam slapped his hand away, eyes narrowing to a glare. “Don’t touch me. Just stay away from me, okay? And stay away from Mason,” he added, before storming off.
He held himself together until he made it to the men’s room but as soon as he was safely behind the closed door, he collapsed against the wall, heart pounding furiously.
What the hell was wrong with him? He hadn’t recognized himself just now. He was never so mean or hateful and he knew, deep down, that Brett had given him no reason to be. It was like…whenever Brett was around, he was a completely different person. Someone he wasn’t sure he liked.
A soft moan drifting out of one of the stalls broke him out of his thoughts and he tilted his head up, taking a deep sniff.
Sighing as he caught his friend’s distinct scent, and another similarly lust-filled one, Liam trudged over and grabbed the top of the stall-door, wrenching it open.
Mason was pressed up against the wall of the stall, a stocky guy with a buzz-cut devouring his face. All clothes seemed to be intact, however, and he counted four hands in his line of sight before they jumped apart at his intrusion.
“Geezus, Liam!” Mason exclaimed, a distinct rosiness filling his cheeks. “Knock, why don’t you?”
“Next time, tell me where you’re going, don’t just disappear,” Liam countered.
“Sorry,” Mason muttered.
“Is this your boyfriend?” the guy asked, eyes swinging from one to the other.
“No,” Mason assured him hastily. “He’s my wingman. My BFF, although I’m seriously having second thoughts about that right now.”
“I’ll just wait over by the door,” Liam said, pointing over his shoulder, already backing up. Now that he thought about it, knocking would have been a better bet than destroying the club’s property. At least he hadn’t torn the door off its hinges, he thought, looking for a silver lining.
He respectfully closed his ears to the low murmurings coming from the stall but he needn’t have worried because soon after, his phone began to ring. He could hear it in here, feel the vibration, the bathroom door shutting out some of the volume and bass from the club’s speakers.
“Scott?” he said upon answering.
“Liam!” Scott’s voice was frantic in his ear. “Where are you?”
“I’m at Sinema.”
“You need to get here, now. We’re at Deaton’s.”
“Scott, what’s going on? And Mason’s with me. I can’t…”
“Bring him along. We don’t have any time to waste.”
With that, Scott hung up.
Frowning at his phone, Liam was just about to turn around and call for Mason when Mason came strolling towards him, expression serious.
“What’s going on?”
“We gotta go.”
Without further questioning, Mason nodded and followed Liam quickly through the club and out the back where he’d parked his mom’s car.
It was going on 11:30 and the streets of Beacon Hills were pretty deserted. The intermittent, light drizzle of the past few hours had probably helped keep people indoors, settling in early despite it being Friday. That and the fact that there wasn’t much to do in Beacon Hills at nighttime.
They pulled up at Deaton’s about ten minutes later, clambering out and racing to the door as soon as the car was in park. The door was unlocked so they let themselves in unannounced and headed to the back where they found everyone gathered around a body on the examination table.
“What the hell is that?” Mason breathed.
The body was that of a young man, a teenager about their age Liam supposed. He was probably once attractive but in his current state, his body and face full of slashes and a harpoon sticking out of his chest, it was hard to tell. There were strange flaps of skin behind his ears and as Liam peered closer, he gasped when he realized what they were.
Gills.
His teeth were jagged and pointed, like a piranha, and his nails were long and sharp, a viscous substance dripping from them onto the table.
“Is that poison?” he asked.
“Tetrodotoxin, from what I can tell,” Deaton replied in that matter-of-fact way of his. At Liam’s confused face, he added, “Blowfish poison.”
“What the hell are they doing to these kids?” Mason muttered, the sharp smell of his anger tickling Liam’s nose.
“Too much,” Stiles retorted. “But that’s something to think about some other time. We’ve got a bigger problem.”
Scott’s eyes were grave when they met Liam’s. “There’s another one out there.”
Liam frowned in confusion. “Another one?”
“They were twins,” Lydia explained. “Identical, and from what we saw of him, he’s exactly like his brother.”
“He took off before we could do much damage,” Malia piped in, sounding almost regretful. “We barely managed to subdue this one but before we could bring him in…” She trailed off, the rest going unsaid.
The Dread Doctors had obviously appeared and taken out their failure. Innocent kids were losing their lives yet they were nothing more than failed experiments to those psychos.
It frustrated Liam that the pack was doing its best to figure out what was going on and put an end to it yet their efforts so far had amounted to nothing but fatalities and the near-deaths of their own people. They needed a break and soon.
“My mom tracked him to the woods behind the school,” Kira said suddenly, shoving her phone into her pocket. Liam hadn’t even noticed her or heard her speaking. “She said the scent is fresh so chances are he’s still there. He might hide out there for the night.”
“Move out, troops,” Stiles commanded, already starting for the door.
“Guys, wait.” Scott’s expression was sober as he met everyone’s eyes. “Let’s try to bring this one in alive. Please. No more bodies if we can help it.”
“We’re not the ones killing them, Scott,” Kira reminded him gently.
“I know, just…let’s do what we can to save them. It could easily be one of us.”
Pep-talk over and consciences sufficiently guilted, the pack jumped into their respective vehicles and headed to the school where the Sheriff and Deputy Parrish would meet them.
When they got to the school, everyone gathered around.
“Stiles, you stay here with Lydia and Mason. The rest of you, pair up,” Scott suggested.
“Hey!” Lydia and Stiles protested simultaneously.
“Why do we have to stay behind?” Stiles demanded.
“Stiles, now isn’t the time to let your ego take over,” his father chastised.
“We’re having a hard enough time holding them off during fights, Stiles,” Theo spoke up. “I’m sorry to say this but you guys being there is a liability that we can’t afford right now.”
Liam saw Stiles’ jaw clench and he understood what he must feel perfectly. No one liked being made to feel useless. But despite whatever reservations he had about Theo and his true intentions, he couldn’t deny that he had a point. If the Weres were getting their asses kicked going up against these creatures, what chance did a mere human have? Stiles was smart but smarts meant nothing against brute strength. And poison.
“What about me?” Lydia asked hotly, hands on her hips. “I’m supernatural.”
Scott’s tone was gentle when he turned to her. “You’re still recovering from your injury. I know that you want some payback but today isn’t that day.”
Liam glanced over at Mason. He wasn’t surprised that his friend hadn’t opposed Scott’s dictate. Mason had wanted to be part of the inner circle and he was, albeit unofficially, but he knew his limitations. Not only was he human but he was also still new to the world of Weres. He had yet to come up against one personally, barring the wolf incident at the school a few weeks before. He didn’t have the skill or knowledge to survive the man-made monsters they were currently dealing with.
“And Stiles, I know that you don’t want to leave Lydia alone with the new kid on the block,” the Sheriff pointed out. “No offense, Mason,” he added quickly.
“None taken,” Mason chirped with a smile.
Sighing, Stiles fell back. “Fine.”
With three of their ten out, the numbers were uneven so it was decided that everyone would pair up except Scott: Malia and Theo, Liam and Kira, and the Sheriff and Parrish.
Before setting off into the woods, Sheriff Stilinski walked over to his son and pulled a handgun out of his waistband.
“Here,” he said, holding it out to Stiles. “Get in the jeep and do not get out for anything, you hear me? Do not use this unless absolutely necessary. And if you have to, make it count.” His gaze shifted to Lydia. “Make sure he makes it count.”
Lydia nodded solemnly.
Liam strode over to where Mason stood off to the side, slightly separated from the others. There was no anxiety or fear coming off of his friend, only a low hum of excitement. Liam, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. They had no idea what they were going to find in the woods and he hated walking into the unknown. The only thing he hated more was leaving his very human, very vulnerable friend behind to fend for himself. For the first time, he found himself regretting that Mason had ever found out about the supernatural. If he were still ignorant, he’d be safe at home or still in Sinema, dancing and having fun without a care in the world.
“Do whatever they say, okay?” he instructed, voice harsher than intended.
Mason, thankfully, took no offense, smiling at his friend with understanding. “Will do. Come back in one piece, yea?”
Liam nodded.
They did their secret handshake for the first time in he couldn’t remember how long and then he turned, trotting over to the tree-line where Kira waited patiently. Mrs. Yukimura was long gone but he could still smell her, just like he could smell the other distinct scent of a non-human creature.
It smelled wrong, though. Off.
They headed into the woods as a collective group before breaking off into their respective pairs. Before they separated, he could detect a strange tension between Theo and Malia, could see it in the strained lines of Malia’s face, but he forced his eyes away, focusing on his partner as they set off on their own course. Whatever was going on there was none of his business. He just hoped that Stiles didn’t get hurt. The guy might be an ass of the highest order but he was good, decent, and genuinely cared for his friends, not to mention that he had helped Liam on more than a few occasions – and dragged him into his crazy schemes just as many times.
They followed Mrs. Yukimura’s scent until it faded, trailing only the creature’s from then onward. It was still strong, which told them that he couldn’t be too far away.
Just as the thought crossed Liam’s mind, a loud crash thundered throughout the woods, quickly followed by the sound of wings beating frantically as birds fled the area.
Throwing a quick glance in Kira’s direction, the two took off towards the direction of the crash. Liam didn’t know what awaited them so he tried to brace himself, putting his inner monster on standby in case it was needed. There were times when having I.E.D. was actually beneficial. This might be one of them.
The fight was in full swing by the time they burst through the trees into a small clearing.
He’d barely caught sight of Malia charging towards the creature before she came flying in his direction. He ducked to avoid a collision, wincing when he heard her hit the ground behind him.
Sheriff Stilinski was on the ground as well, Deputy Parrish hovering over him with his gun drawn. There was a gash on his forehead, blood pouring freely from the wound.
Theo and Scott were trying to double-team the boy, coming at him from two sides, but despite the many hits they landed, nothing seemed to weaken him.
Before Liam could dive into the fray, the creature struck out abruptly, grabbing Theo by the neck. His poison-tipped nails sank into Theo’s throat and Theo cried out in agony, thrashing for a moment before going completely still. The creature threw him to the side like yesterday’s garbage, actually smiling sinisterly with his piranha teeth when Theo crashed into a tree before slumping to the ground, still as a corpse.
Growling with rage, Liam bared his claws, fangs dropping and eyes glowing bright yellow as he charged forward, Kira right behind him.
Scott had managed to get the creature into a choke-hold but he was barely hanging on since the creature had sunk its sharp teeth into his arm. Pain radiated from him and spurred Liam’s instinct to defend his alpha.
Amongst the three of them, and after taking many more hits, they barely managed to subdue the boy, Kira’s sword being the final blow that brought him down. She impaled him on the sword, the blade hitting no vital organs but sinking all the way through so that he couldn’t dislodge himself, after which Scott knocked him out with a blow to the head.
Liam looked around, a dull ache in his bloody side where the boy had taken a chomp out of him. Better that than the claws, he reasoned, glancing over at Theo who was just beginning to stir.
Both Malia and the Sheriff were sitting up as well, their injuries apparently not as serious as he’d initially thought.
“Liam,” Scott called, drawing his attention. “Help me get him up. Deaton will meet us at the parking lot in ten minutes but we need to get out of here before the Dread Doctors show up.”
“It still sounds so fricking weird calling them that,” Malia muttered from the tree she was propped up against.
Her comment drew a general chuckle, a promising sound that let them know that they had survived yet another battle.
Liam walked over to Scott, helping him heft the boy up by the shoulders, supporting his weight between the two of them.
They led the way back through the woods, the Sheriff and Deputy Parrish in the middle with Kira and Malia holding up a still-dazed Theo bringing up the rear.
They were silent all the way to the parking lot, everyone’s ears tuned in for any sound or unusual disturbance.
Thankfully, they made it back without incident.
As soon as they breached the trees, Stiles and Mason came running at them, Stiles heading immediately for his father while Mason took Theo’s weight from Malia who was clearly still weakened by the injuries she’d received.
Deaton pulled up shortly after and they all packed into their respective vehicles, Liam and Scott going in the van with Deaton in the event that the boy awoke, despite the fact that Deaton had shot him up with enough tranquilizers to put a horse out for days the minute he arrived.
Their return to the clinic was blessedly uneventful and once Deaton had the boy in the back, strapped securely to the examination table and still unconscious, Liam finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Maybe they had finally caught the break they’d been waiting for.
He trudged out of the examination room behind Scott and the others when Deaton and the Sheriff began considering the practical versus moral and legal implications of de-clawing the boy. If he shifted back to his human shape then it wouldn’t be a problem but there was no telling whether they would be able to reason with him and his claws were far more dangerous than his teeth, being poisonous and all. Theo was still shaking off the effects of the poison and he was a strong, young wolf. A human would have died within minutes of being infected.
“We survived,” Kira murmured, dropping onto a sofa in the clinic’s waiting room.
“Score one for us,” Stiles quipped sarcastically. There was a haunted look in his eyes, a restlessness about his body as he paced the small room, and Liam knew that it had nothing to do with his friends’ near defeat and everything to do with how close his father had come to dying. It was his greatest fear, after all. Everyone knew it. The Sheriff was all that Stiles had left.
“We won this battle,” Scott acknowledged with a small smile. “Hopefully it signals a change in the tide.”
A low murmuring of agreement rippled throughout the room.
“Has anyone heard from Brett?” Scott asked suddenly.
Despite himself, Liam’s heart skipped a beat and he immediately straightened.
“Brett?” Mason repeated, a confused look on his face as he glanced over at Liam.
“Yeah. With Peter locked up, Derek off finding himself and Mr. Argent basically indentured to the Calaveras, we’re a bit short-handed. I asked for his help on this and he told me that he’d try to get a couple others from his pack to lend a hand.”
“But…he was at Sinema when we were there,” Liam said, not quite able to wrap his head around it.
“I called him right after I hung up with you,” Scott explained. “I told him to go there directly instead of coming here, hoping that between both groups we might have the kid surrounded. He said that he’d head up to the border where the woods meet the Preserve, just in case he made it that far. But…I texted him on the way back here and he hasn’t replied.”
“Try calling,” Kira suggested, a tightness in her voice.
Scott did as she suggested, shaking his head when he got no answer. All of the Weres heard when it went to Brett’s obnoxious voicemail greeting.
“Maybe he dropped his phone,” Malia suggested. “It’s not hard when you’re traipsing around the woods in the middle of the night.”
“Maybe,” Lydia said quietly.
There was an unspoken agreement, however, an understanding borne purely from experience that there were other more tragically likely possibilities.
Before Liam even realized that he’d moved, he was pushing the door open, running out into the brisk night air.
The rain was drizzling again but it didn’t slow him down, if anything it gave him the drive to pump his legs faster, digging deeper into the pitch as he took longer strides.
He heard his name being called, Scott and Mason’s voices blending into one urgent cry, but he ignored it.
All he could think was that Brett was lying somewhere, injured and bleeding, in the woods.
I don’t care.
Shit! If Brett died, those will have been his last words to him.
It was such a fucking lie, though. He’d known that even as he’d said it. He did care. He still didn’t know why but he did. It was easier to continue pretending to hate Brett than it was to try to figure out why he no longer did. There was so much going on lately that his changing feelings towards his frenemy simply didn’t seem important in the grand scheme of things. Or so he told himself. Mason would say that he was avoiding acknowledging the truth; that he already knew what the truth was. Mason was usually right.
He hit the woods at a record pace, heart thundering in his chest. He felt absolutely in control, his anger for once at bay, too overwhelmed by fear he supposed. The others would follow, he was sure. They would eventually catch up to him but he had to be the one to find Brett. He needed it.
There were too many scents in the woods, theirs mixed with the boy they’d caught and a few others he couldn’t identify. The rain wasn’t helping either, dimming the strength of the scents the longer it fell. None of them were Brett’s, though. Liam still had a ways to go to get to the Preserve but it was obvious that Brett hadn’t passed this way to get there.
As he neared the line, he threw common sense to the wind and gave into his fear.
“Brett!” he called at the top of his lungs. “Brett! Where are you?”
He skidded to a halt on the damp leaves, listening for any sound, any rustling of leaves or trees. There was nothing.
He got his ass back into gear, charging through the overgrown brush, dodging branches and fallen trees, not caring when leaves tore at his cheeks. He barely felt it with the amount of adrenaline flowing through his veins.
He was almost at the line, crossing a small clearing as he approached the denseness of the Preserve, Brett’s name once more spilling from his lips when a soft laugh caught his ears, drawing him to an abrupt stop.
“Geezus, Liam, you’re going to wake the dead if you keep hollering like that.”
Turning on his heel, he peered in the direction that the voice had come from, using his wolf-eyes to see better in the darkness when his human eyes failed. There, leaning casually as ever against a tree stump, was Brett.
For a second, Liam’s innate anger returned and fire was about to spew forth from his tongue. How dare Brett be so chill about this when Liam had been terrified on his behalf?
Then he smelled the blood. From the thickness of the smell, there was a lot of it.
Ire quickly dashed, Liam raced over, dropping to his knees beside him.
“I thought Lydia was the only banshee in your pack,” Brett joked.
“Shut up!” Liam snapped. “Where are you hurt? How bad is it?”
From his spot against the tree, Brett was protected from the rain by the intercrossing thicket of branches over his head. He was clutching his stomach, though, and Liam could see that his entire torso was soaked with blood.
“How are you still alive?” Liam whispered, a heavy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach as he gently moved Brett’s arm away so that he could see the damage for himself.
“I don’t think it’s as bad as it looks,” Brett assured him, still managing to smile. His words were belied by the sudden coughing fit that racked him…and the blood seeping out the corners of his lips.
“Oh, God,” Liam breathed. Brett was dying before his very eyes and there was nothing he could do. “Where are your people? Scott said you were going to bring others with you.”
Brett laid a bloody hand over Liam’s. “Don’t blame them. My pack…we aren’t like you guys. Sure, we’re wolves and aggression is in our nature but it’s different for us. We’ve worked hard not to be violent so when it comes time to tap into that aggression, it’s hard for some.”
Taking a deep inhale, Liam caught the scent of two others…and the fear.
“They abandoned you,” he spat, disgust dripping from his words like venom.
“It was a father and his daughter,” Brett explained. “They were the only ones willing to come with me. Everything was fine, quiet. I got Scott’s text and we were getting ready to head back home when that…thing appeared.”
Liam’s breath caught in his throat. “What did it look like?”
“Human but…not. He had spikes everywhere. One minute he was normal, like you and me, the next he had quills sticking out of every inch of his skin. I told them to leave, that I’d cover them. They only have each other. I couldn’t let them risk their lives because of me.”
As Brett spoke, Liam worked at staunching the bleeding. He shed his jacket and tore his shirt off, using his nails to rip it into strips that he tied around Brett’s middle. There was so much blood. The scent clogged his nostrils, making him nauseous. The wolf side of him wanted to leave. It smelled death and wanted to be nowhere near the boy when it happened. Even now, Liam could hear his heartbeat slowing down.
The others were on their way, though. He could hear them off in the distance.
“It was fine when he was in human form,” Brett continued, eyes gazing off into the darkness. “I was holding my own. But he seemed to realize that he couldn’t beat me that easily. That’s when the quills came out.”
“Quills?” Liam repeated in disbelief, the word finally registering.
Mustering what little strength he had, Brett reached beside him and picked up a handful of long, thin, blood-streaked needles. “Like a porcupine.”
“Oh, my God.”
“I know. These Doctor dudes are some sick bastards. They’re projectiles too. And look at the tips.”
Liam inspected them closely, seeing a purplish coating on each one. “Poison?” he asked.
“Look closer.”
So he did, bringing the needles to his nose and taking a whiff. When he identified the smell, his eyes flew sharply to Brett’s.
“Wolfsbane.”
“I never stood a chance,” Brett sighed, a grim acceptance in his voice.
Dropping the needles onto the ground, Liam took Brett’s hand in his. “You’ll be fine. You’re tough. You’ll get through this.”
When Brett’s eyes met his this time, they were clear. Speculative. “I thought you didn’t care.”
Heat tinged Liam’s cheeks and he took a deep breath, swallowing thickly. “I lied.”
A smile twitched at the corner of Brett’s bloody lips. “I know. You’re not very good at it.”
“Shut up,” Liam groaned.
When Brett burst into another coughing fit, Liam was immediately chastised, guilt deepening the colour in his cheeks.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Brett couldn’t seem to stop coughing, though. More blood came out, trailing down his chin and Liam’s eyes widened with horror.
No, his mind screamed. No, no, no!
“Hold on,” he pleaded, wrapping his arm around Brett’s shivering frame. “Please. Just hold on.”
“Liam!”
“Liam, where are you?”
“Brett? Brett, they’re here. Brett? Brett!”
As Brett’s body went completely limp in his arms, Liam went into full panic mode.
He shook him, screaming his name, which had his friends charging into the clearing expecting the worst.
And when that didn’t work, when Brett’s eyelashes didn’t so much as flicker, he threw his head back, agonized yellow eyes raised to the moon and howled.