Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It starts like it ended, somewhat. 

A crater, crusted with earth and worms and stone, cracking open with a sound like thunder. Hands, slick with dirt and ichor, grappling with purpose. A body, a corpse reanimated by some unholy force, pulling themself free.

But this time, the hole is not below, but above. Implausibly etched into the metal ceiling where Theo Raeken had just opened his eyes again. A cold, empty metal drawer, in a cold, empty morgue, in a cold, empty replica of the Beacon Hill’s hospital that served as Theo’s personal hell. 

And all the hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times when Theo opened his eyes in beds made for the dead, Tara always found him. No matter where Theo tried to go, she always took her heart back; no pleading, no begging, no threats stopped her.

Only once had she paused. 

Theo didn’t really know what made him say it, what made him tell his sister, the sister he’d willingly murdered, that it was okay, that she didn’t have to stop. He didn’t know if he meant it, or if it had been a ploy to stop her. All he knew was that it didn’t work, and so he let Tara do to him what he did to her; he didn’t run anymore. He let himself die. It didn’t count as being killed when all his sister did to him was what he’d done to her. 

He died over and over, in the place where, in the real world, he would likely never have ended up. It could be considered ironic. Chimeras heal, werewolves heal. But he hadn’t become a werewolf. He wasn’t even sure if he was a chimera here, in hell. All he knew was death. But that wasn’t all that much different from his life, anyway.

Until this time. The hole above him. The hole. He waited for a minute. Maybe Tara would climb down through it this time. 

But minutes passed. Tara didn’t come. He didn’t hear her whispers.

Maybe Tara felt that he’d paid his penance to her. Maybe someone else awaited him. No, not someone. A victim. His victim, patiently waiting to enact a retribution deserved. All Theo knew now was death, and as he began the climb up, he knew that was all that he would find on the other side.

So, Theo climbed.

And when he emerged into the dank, damp recesses of the sewers of Beacon Hills, when Theo saw Liam Dunbar and Hayden Romero, he knew that he’d been right.

Death was all he would find.

***

The truth is that Theo didn’t have to help the McCall pack. Whatever he did, even if he single-handedly stopped the Ghost Riders and Der Soldat without a single hair on anyone else’s head being harmed, even if he brought everyone in Beacon Hills back, he would still be sent back to hell, back to Tara.

The ending of his story had already been written. No, Theo didn’t have to help the pack. But he did. He didn’t know why, didn’t want to think about it. They told him what to do, and he did it. Under his own brand of snark and aggression, but he did it. Maybe it was familiar — he’d been used to doing what the Dread Doctors ordered for so long (until they didn’t hold up their end of the deal and he went rogue, of course) that this way was easier.

He hadn’t flinched when Liam, believing that Theo had killed the Ghost Rider they’d trapped, said they should send him back. No one had protested, not even him. Only the missing pineal gland of the rider had saved him then, and he didn’t know why. They knew he would kill. Had killed.

So, resigned to following their orders, he let them chain him up and lead him to whatever destination was next. They weren’t gentle, but they let him cradle his broken arm, shattered from when he’d urged Scott to close the gate on the rider, his arm be damned. He would follow orders. It was just an arm.

That’s what he said when Liam asked why he’d let Scott break it, quietly, almost under his breath as he yanked the chains that held Theo: “It’s just my arm.”

***

The sword had been broken. It was a pointless bargain. Inconsequential. The word rang through his head even as he stated his terms to Liam: break the sword, or Theo would withhold information.

The sword could be reforged. If it needed a kitsune, they would get Kira to send him back. Or Noshiko. Or some other kitsune. No matter what, the pack would find a way.

He didn’t know why he wanted the sword broken. Maybe he wanted to see how desperate they were. Maybe he wanted to make it harder for the pack to send him back to his inevitable end. Maybe he just needed to see it, the only remaining tangible sign of his hellish descent destroyed. No, temporarily disabled. 

Mason was right: he held no cards, he was in a jail cell. And he’d go back to the original prison when it was all over.

***

The Ghost Riders didn’t take Theo. They had taken everyone else in the station, everyone else in the holding cells, but not him. They found him, of course they did, but they’d just stood there, three of them, staring silently as he sat and waited, resigned to be taken. Wherever the riders had taken the residents of Beacon Hills, it couldn’t be as bad as his eventual hell. 

And he was right. Because he wasn’t good enough for even them.

***

He’s shaking the bars. Theo is shaking the bars and yelling at Sheriff Stilinski to let him out of the holding cell. There is desperation in his voice, in his face, in his trembling hands, but it’s not for freedom. 

And when the Sheriff asks Theo to tell him one thing about Stiles, just one thing, he doesn’t know why he chooses to tell him Stiles was smart. Maybe it’s because through all his experiences with Stiles, from their long-gone childhood, to the meticulous files Theo collected on all the pack members in his time with the Dread Doctors, and his efforts spent trying to dismantle the McCall pack, that was the thread that stayed the same. Stiles was smart. Smart in a way that sharp, observant, strategic Theo would never be.

When the Sheriff finally lets him go moments before he’s taken by the riders, when Theo and Liam make their escape to the hospital, he’s relieved. The sense of it is strong enough that he knows Liam can scent it through chemosignals that Theo makes no move to stifle, though the young werewolf makes no comment. It makes sense to Liam. To him, Theo is self-serving, would always be self-serving, and since the riders hadn’t found him in the station, and he didn’t want to be taken by them, Theo had no choice but to follow Liam to freedom, however temporary.

Liam also doesn’t comment on the rising scent of fear that Theo emanates when he directs him to the hospital, and why. The emotion makes sense too: they’re bait. Liam doesn’t know Theo’s nightmares, Theo’s literal hell.

***

It’s the fear that makes him lash out at Liam at the doors to the hospital, telling the younger werewolf he wouldn’t put himself in danger to save him. He doesn’t want to go in there, where it’s empty and cold, not when he’s already going back in eventually. Not that it isn’t true. Why would Theo choose to save Liam when he could save himself? That hadn’t been part of his orders from the pack. Sure, it’d probably been implied, but Theo was not going to willingly walk back into his hell, in any world.

He thinks reminding Liam of his willingness to abandon the young boy to the riders will set him off. Maybe he’ll get angry enough to knock him out and leave him on the road. Maybe he’ll tell Theo to leave, to get this new betrayal over and done with. Scott would find him later anyway, and send him back underground.

Theo doesn’t want to go inside the hospital. But there’s something in Liam’s face that makes him do it anyway.

***

He sees his sister the moment he walks in, hears her voice everywhere around him. It unnerves him, but doesn’t frighten him. He’s died here so many times, and he’ll die countless times more. It doesn’t matter now.

It’s why he isn’t angry when Liam tells him that he deserved everything he went through when he was in hell. There’s no point being angry when he’s going back. Just like there’s no point not helping Liam fight off the riders. Even if he dies at their hand, he’ll still end up back there.

But this doesn’t explain why Theo chooses to save Liam, chooses to shove him in the elevator, and take on the riders himself. He doesn’t think of it as he fights, taking them all down.

***

As Theo lies broken and bleeding on the floor of the hospital, he finally understands the look on Liam’s face: Liam fights because he has something worth fighting for, something Theo will never have, no matter what he does. Everything in his life worth having has been destroyed by his own hand. He’ll never get it back, never get the chance to find something new.

It’s not jealousy that drives him now, that propels Theo up off the floor, limping to wherever Liam is. This is the part he doesn’t understand. This is the part he stifles. He has no time for complex thoughts.

***

Inconsequential. It rings through his head as he fights off a rider to get Liam on a horse. 

Inconsequential. It’s all he can focus on as he fights more riders to get Scott to wherever he needs to go.

Inconsequential. There’s nothing in his head except this word as he limps away from Beacon Hills High School, suddenly filled with people who remember nothing of the riders.

The pack will come for him. They will send him back. His destination is inconsequential.

He is inconsequential.

Chapter Text

Theo doesn’t go to sleep. He falls asleep.

He fights it every time, distracts himself on a cracked phone that he charges at fast food restaurants or public libraries. Drowns himself in cheap coffee that he buys throughout the day. Most of his dwindling cache of money, pilfered from empty houses during the Ghost Riders' reign, alongside his car and a small collection of clothes and supplies, goes to cheap coffee. He even budgets for it on a little notepad he keeps in his glove compartment.

But even genetically engineered chimeras need sleep. It had been a weakness the Dread Doctors had never quite figured out how to remove, not for lack of trying.

So he falls asleep. Falls into a pit of waiting nightmares. Tara. The Dread Doctors. His parents. Tracey. Josh. Every victim slain or tortured by his willing hand. If those don’t wake him up gasping for air, curled into the corner of his car parked in the Beacon Hills Preserve or some other equally dark and empty location, then his dreams continue. 

Liam. Scott. Stiles. Lydia. Malia. Corey. Hayden. Mason. Every living victim. These are the ones he always wakes up from.

Sometimes he dreams of them coming for him, to send him back. Weeks have passed since the trial of the Ghost Riders had ended, but no one has come looking for him. It doesn’t leave him with any sense of security. The waiting is torture, probably done willingly by the pack. He knows they’ll come eventually, so these are his best dreams. It’s hard to be scared of what you know.

But sometimes, he dreams of things he’s never done to them. Things he had wanted to, once. When he wakes up, shaking uncontrollably, claws digging into his own skin, he doesn’t dare question why these frighten him the most.

***

There is a spider on his hand.

He’d been scared of spiders once, as a kid. Screaming for his father whenever he saw one, feeling an innocent sense of vindication when Tara laughed at his ‘childish’ fear, only to run screaming whenever the spider came close to her.

He’s not scared of spiders anymore.

When it burrows under his skin, and Theo resorts to breaking into the animal clinic to cut it out, only to watch it disappear in a puff of smoke, he wants to question it. Wants to think back to everything natural and supernatural he learned from the Dread Doctors that could explain it.

He doesn’t. He has no obligation to. He has no more orders from the pack, except the implicit understanding that they will come, so he might as well just wait.

That night he dreams of Liam, and all the terrible things Theo almost did to him, but never had the chance to.

He almost welcomes it when the hunters come for him, waking him from the nightmare. Killing him means hell, means an end to his waiting, means an end to every other nightmare except one. When they string him up on an electric fence, a current constantly flowing through every part of his body, he nearly laughs in relief.

He’ll never be able to sleep now.

***

The hunters have given Theo a change of heart. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, days, maybe weeks, but it’s enough time for him to realise that the McCall pack have their hands full. This isn’t your regular group of werewolf hunters, small but mighty. This is an army, an insurrection. If he gets out, he can actually leave Beacon Hills, at least for a while.

A small part of him thinks that maybe the pack won’t win, but that seems impossible. Out of all that they’ve faced so far, humans, even an army of them, won’t get the best of Scott and his friends and family.

Either way, he has a chance to leave. Once Scott wins, their attention will be back to tracking him down. If the hunters win, he’ll die anyway, as they sweep through the earth, cleansing it of all impurities. He wonders why he doesn’t just surrender to the inevitability, like he had before. But the why doesn’t matter. It’s a complex thought and emotion to untangle. He’d never wasted time on understanding himself this way before, so why do so now?

All he knows is that he wants to go. To enjoy the short-lived, borrowed freedom that he doesn’t deserve but wants.

He takes his chance, easily manipulating the sadistic Shrader to burn his plastic cuffs off. So stupid. So easy. So out of control. Theo knows all about control.

But he gives in a little, leaving the ex-Eichen House orderly on the electric fence, the dial turned up more than a little too high.

Of course, with tainted liberation right in his grasp, it all goes to shit.

***

It’s not hard to get the two young werewolves who escaped the hunters with him to confess to the murders they’ve all been locked up for. The Sheriff and Parrish are reluctant to let him go, but they have nothing to hold him on. Theo isn’t fool enough to know they don’t still hold everything he’s done against him, but they have no evidence, at least none that won’t be questioned by the mundane world.

He’s still surprised that it seems like temporary freedom is back in his grasp. Sure, they’d been too busy to look for him the past few weeks, and would continue to be too caught up for a while to figure out how to send him back again with a broken sword and no kitsune, but they could throw him into some other prison until they figured it out. Here he is, easy pickings, willing even, and he was just going to walk right out past all of them, past Scott, Malia, and Liam.

Maybe… they were letting him have his freedom, however grudgingly? Theo banishes the thought the moment it comes. Never. The pack won’t forget, the pack can forgive, but not Theo. Not the only person to have broken them apart, to have killed their Alpha. 

***

He watches the pack as they argue about what to do about the hunters outside, about the two blue-eyed werewolves locked in the cell. He’s sure they know he’d been found running from hunters with the remnants of Satomi’s pack, but they don’t ask questions. They don’t ask how long he’d been there, how long he’d been tortured.

They don’t care. He doesn’t expect them to, he knows nothing of consequence anyway.

They probably put all the pieces together. Stilinski’s deputies had been waking him up in his car for weeks, so the pack knew that was probably how he’d been found by the hunters. Besides, Monroe only asks for Jiang and Tierney, for the wolves that murdered hunters. It’s not enough for the pack to not constantly throw suspicious glances his way, but is enough for him to be deprioritised.

Inconsequential.

Theo could be quiet, letting the pack untangle this new mess, but he’s had temporary freedom in his crosshairs for a while now, and being silent and therefore suspicious, would remove that entirely. They’ll remember that they could just chain him up somewhere until everything settles down. Maybe that cage where the first Ghost Rider was killed by Der Soldat. Maybe back in the sewers, his little cosy home with the Dread Doctors.

So he gets involved. Insists the hunters won’t leave without the blood they’ve come for, and that he is not going to be collateral damage. It’s what they expect from him after all. They don’t listen to him, because it’s Theo after all.

***

Liam smells different. Anger, fear, and desperation are scents Theo is familiar with when it comes to the young werewolf. Self-loathing and guilt are not.

It doesn’t take him long to put two and two together. Back at the hunters’ stronghold, he’d heard talk of Brett and Lori’s deaths, and how Scott and his betas hadn’t been killed — a strategic decision, apparently.

Theo doesn’t know why he baits Liam. All it gets him is a punch to the face.

***

They make it out alive. All of the pack, Theo, Jiang, and Tierney, all alive. Theo doesn’t know what happens next, doesn’t care as he leaves for his stolen car, still parked where he’d left it. Dented and full of holes from the attack. He retrieves his things. He steals a truck. He drives. He parks. He tries not to sleep.

***

When Scott calls, fills Theo in that Monroe and Gerard want the pack out of Beacon Hills, including him, Theo knows that’s not the end. Scott and his friends will never run from unfinished business.

***

There’s something satisfying in baiting Liam to break his nose for the third time. He thinks it’s something to do with the scent of self-loathing and guilt that still hangs around the beta, permeating the air around them. Theo stops the complex thought before it goes any further, blaming the momentary lapse on his temporary freedom being snatched from him.

Of the two of them, only Theo walks away from the faux fight bloody.

***

Theo doesn’t like the abandoned zoo. He doesn’t know why, has vague memories of visiting the place with his family as a child. There’s not much to them, only arriving, a sense of unease, and then leaving.

But he’s impressed when Liam tells him why he chose the location, for its winding maze-like corridors evocative of the invader-prevention structure of Mykonos.

Liam likes history, is the thought that flits through his mind as he pulls Liam away from Nolan the first time, from the corner where they’d been watching and waiting. I don’t like history, is what’s on his mind when he does it the second time.

When he knocks Liam out, effectively saving Nolan, he tells himself that he’s only doing it because if Scott found out he did nothing while Liam abandoned himself to his own anger, he’d be back in the ground sooner than he wanted. Theo tells the baby hunter to run, scaring him with a sadistic glint in his eyes that’s second nature to him.

Is there even any more chance of temporary freedom? He doesn’t know.

Theo really doesn’t like the abandoned zoo.

***

Liam is having complex thoughts. Theo smells it as they drive away from the zoo. The ever-present anger, fear, and desperation still there, alongside the new acrid scents of self-loathing and guilt, but tinted with regret.

Regret grows, and so does guilt.

Theo knows that Liam brought him along not because he needed help from him specifically, just someone strong enough to stop him from doing something he’d regret. Theo had been the only option at the time.

Liam likes history, is the thought that propels Theo to tell Liam that he broke his hands trying not to kill Nolan. 

He believes it when he tells the beta that when their emotions are so strong, they can only feel one at a time. He clings to it as he banishes complex thoughts about history and cages from his own mind.

***

The pack crowds together for safety, gathering in each other's houses, sleeping on beds, sofas, and makeshift nests of blankets on floors. They’re never alone.

Theo isn’t a part of the pack. He sleeps in his truck, letting its grasp snatch him for minutes at a time while the sun is up. He stays up at night to watch for the hunters, restless from their day jobs, prowling down unlit roads and dark forests for unnatural nocturnal creatures.

He wants to laugh about it, that the hunters call them unnatural. Supernatural is a compound word. Super, by definition, could mean excellent or extra. Anything supernatural should then be used for anything extra natural, so especially natural or usual that it is typical, stands out by its extreme banality. 

Does that make sense? Probably not. Theo likes words, has always been good at wielding them to his advantage, but has no patience for the intricacies of language itself. It just seems like a hypocritical semantic joke to deem them both unnatural and supernatural.

Theo is the only unnatural one, galvanised by dark desires of students of unhallowed arts, formed from viscera and fluids in test tubes and beakers, equally split apart and stitched together by scalpels and saws. A pastiche of a body lying in the glimmer of a half-extinguished life, bright yellow eyes opening, lungs breathing hard, limbs convulsing in agitation. 

A hideous phantasm of a creature stretched out, and then, on the working of some inordinate engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half-vital motion.

***

The morning light is weak when Theo emerges from a quiet diner, carrying his fourth cup of coffee, the first three vessels of black sludge already sloshing in his stomach. He recognises Mason’s car at a stoplight, Corey sitting shotgun beside the human, Liam in the back, grimly staring unseeing out the window. There is resolve in their faces, resolve that threatens to break against the punching weight of anxiety that only shines in their eyes.

Even from across the street, Theo can scent Liam’s guilt and self-loathing, stronger than ever. The youngest of the McCall pack doesn’t see him, and he watches as they drive off, recognising exactly where they’re going as they turn right at the next junction.

Theo follows them back to Beacon Hills High School with ‘history’ on his mind.

***

Theo stays hidden in the hallways of the school as best he can, emerging only when Liam is threatening Gabe, telling the young beta that he doesn’t care if he kills the young hunter.

It’s true, Theo has enough blood on his hands, doesn’t care about that, so why would he care about blood on someone else's? But he finds himself pointing out the logistics of killing, not bothering to point out the emotional fallout. Somehow, it’s automatic, words about disposing the body and getting rid of witnesses falling easily from his lips. A force of habit, perhaps, from his own experiences, but the words come without effort because only ‘history’ echoes in his head. Even as he tells Liam that he’s making progress, to remember Scott’s ultimate goal and purpose, the words come without thought as ‘history, history, history’ remains in his mind.

He comes awake when Gabe mentions other bodies, taking over threatening him, though he’s pretty sure Liam would have done it and done it well too. Theo is the one to call Scott, to tell the Alpha what he and Liam have figured out.

***

Theo’s not sure how he ended up in the sewers of Beacon Hills again. No, that’s not actually true. He knows how, knows that the human had agreed with his idea of going after the half of the Anuk-Ite that they actually knew, instead of following what might be a dead end, which had prompted Scott to suggest they go find him together.

What he doesn’t know is how Scott could agree to letting Mason go alone with him. True, he wasn’t actively going to kill the human, they’d all know he was the murderer, but didn’t they know that Theo only cared about himself, Mason be damned if they were in danger?

Theo knew the tunnels like the back of his hand, having lived there for months. That was a much more logical reason for why Scott had sent him there, with Mason, arguably the most vulnerable member of the pack, even if he was also one of the smartest.

***

Theo wonders if he will see his sister in the tunnels. This is where it first happened, after all. The sword, the hole, the hands. He doesn’t, not at all, not even a whisper in his head.

There is no time to be scared of the inevitable.

***

Theo isn’t sure if he means it when he tells Mason he doesn’t trust his survival to Scott and the pack. But he’s sure he doesn’t mean it when he says he wants to be in the pack. Why would he waste time wanting something so impossible? It’s an illogical conclusion. Mason agrees, for different and obvious reasons: trust.

When Mason declares that what Theo is and has been capable of shakes him more than the actual, literal physical representation of fear, Theo begins to feel it. A fear, raw and undiluted, creeps over his body, like the chill from a fog that slowly crawls on the surface of your skin.

His hands shake. But he doesn’t hesitate to push Mason out of the way of the Aaron-half of the Anuk-Ite.

***

Theo can’t leave Mason, bruised and hurting on the ground. He tells him so, knowing that he’s only doing this because if he did, and Mason survived to tell the pack, he’ll be gone sooner than he wants.

It’s true, because he can’t take Mason’s pain. Because he doesn’t care about anything but himself.

But he stays by Mason as half of the Anuk-Ite gets further away from them.

***

Theo knows Mason says something as Aaron/Anuk-Ite suddenly comes barrelling back towards them, but it doesn’t register. He also knows that he can’t let Mason get hurt, but what he thinks is ‘history’, always the word ‘history’.

Only when Aaron/Anuk-Ite slams Theo’s claws up into himself does he realise he’s made a mistake, and maybe they will all be history after all.

But Mason, still hurting, offers him a hand to pull him up, both of them gasping for breath in the sewers.

Theo wonders if Mason, if he were a werewolf, would be able to take away Theo’s pain.

***

When Scott calls, ordering Theo to help the others at the hospital, he doesn’t tell the Alpha that he’s already on his way. 

If he did decide to tell Scott, he’d say that he’d figured out the hospital would likely be a target because of Melissa. He wouldn’t say that he’d been driving around for hours, looking for Mason’s car.

Two things can be true at the same time.

***

By some stroke of luck, Theo finds Liam on his first try. The luck runs out there, since the elevator doors opened to both Liam and a group of hunters opening fire. He wonders, even as he pulls Liam away into the elevator, if the beta’s eyes would turn blue if he took them down. This is a designated war zone, after all. Not like the planned ambush at the zoo or the confrontation at school. Would that make a difference?

He tells Liam that he’s not planning on dying for the beta. This is true. Theo thinks it’s true. Therefore, it has to be true. Cogito, ergo sum. Liam immediately shoots back that he isn’t planning on dying for Theo either. This is simply a truth. But something makes the younger boy pause, maybe something on Theo’s face or in his voice, the chimera doesn’t know. There’s no time to dwell on it now as they agree to fight alongside the other.

Not that Theo was planning to dwell on it later, anyway.

Of the two of them, only Theo walks away from the fight bloody.

***

Liam dives toward Gabe, wrestling him for the gun. Nolan moves. Theo hears with his unnatural hearing Monroe’s orders: Just shoot him. Shoot both of them.  

He wants to move, needs to move, starts to stand, trying to gain purchase on the smooth wall he’d been leaning on. He’s so desperate, a desperation he didn’t feel even when the hole first appeared above him in the morgue drawer. Then, he had accepted the inevitability of his continued death, climbed toward it willingly. Now, a part of him had accepted that he would probably die in the real world here with the hunters, a fitting place for his end. A hospital of death for a hospital of death.

From the very beginning, he knew with absolute certainty that all that awaited him was death.

It just wasn’t his death.

***

Gabe is having complex thoughts. Theo can smell it on him even as he finally stands, thinking it’s stupid to feel anger and fear, regret and acceptance, guilt and resolve, all when you’re dying.

In the moments before Tara dragged him down into hell, all Theo could feel was fear, deep-rooted and sharp. How would he have felt if he’d had more time, if he were the boy lying on the ground, bleeding out too fast but also too slow?

He lets Gabe’s emotions wash over him without knowing why. It hurts. Gabe echoes Theo’s thoughts — it hurts.

Still without knowing why, Theo walks towards him, kneeling down, reaching for his hand.

Confusion and regret are the last things Theo scents from him. Gabe isn’t hurting anymore. 

He doesn’t move, a temporary monument of senseless indoctrination, indiscriminate fear-mongering, an ideological sacrifice.

Condition: Terminated.

Chapter Text

Theo doesn’t know how long he’s been sitting there, holding Gabe’s hand. Dead Gabe’s hand. The world comes out of hiding around him, nurses, doctors, and other hospital staff bustling to take care of the wounded and themselves.

“We’re going to Scott’s.” Liam’s rough voice startles Theo out of his musings that aren’t even musings. If you asked, he wouldn’t be able to tell you what he’d been thinking as he’d been staring at Gabe’s body. ‘History’ had been the only word in his mind.

Theo looks around, realises that the bodies of the dead around them have been removed, and only Gabe’s remains. He turns back to the young, dead hunter, looking into watery, unseeing eyes that would never see again.

“Theo.” Liam’s voice is gentler this time, but still harsh. He looks up at the beta. “We have to go.”

“Then go.” He turns back to Gabe, not understanding why he doesn’t want to leave, only that there is a complex thought there, some unknown emotion, and logic that hasn’t settled in his head. Doesn’t he have time for complex thoughts now?

“You’re supposed to come with us.”

Oh. No time for complexities then. Theo supposed it would have been pointless anyway.

***

Theo doesn’t listen as Scott speaks, words of grief and remembrance, hope and resilience. He knows Scott’s nature not just from all he had studied with the Dread Doctors, but from all he had done and tried to do to the Alpha. He doesn’t need to listen to know what he’s saying.

Others speak, but Theo lets the words flow past his ears. It doesn’t matter. This chapter of Scott McCall and his pack’s story is over, but their book will continue to be written. Theo has had his bonus chapters, but his story is over, truly now. Dead and soon to be buried.

The only thing he focuses on, the only scent that he lets filter through is self-loathing and guilt. It’s strong in the room, coming from everywhere and everyone, but Theo only focuses on Liam’s. A little less acrid than it had been before the final battles, but still there. He wonders if it will ever go away.

Theo only comes back to the present when he recognises the unmistakable movements of leaving. People packing up, goodbyes and hugs being exchanged, bodies moving towards sofas and beds and sleep.

Scott is already watching him.

The Alpha moves toward the kitchen, and Theo follows the unspoken order. The Alpha says nothing, just looks at him carefully as he stands near a stove, while Theo finds a place by the refrigerator. 

Theo doesn’t like silence, unless it’s necessary. Before all of this, he’d been the one to decide when it was necessary. This silence is unnecessary, not when the inevitable awaits. So Theo breaks it first.

“So, have you figured it out?”

The Alpha frowns, confused. “Figured what out?”

“How to send me back. Or more accurately, how to reforge the sword to send me back.”

“Send you back? You want to go back?”

Theo laughs bitterly. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

A light of understanding dawns on Scott. “You thought we were going to send you back.”

“Hasn’t that always been the deal? I help, then you send me back. Even when I asked Liam to break the sword, I knew what my ending was going to be.” Theo pauses then, raking a hand through his already messy hair. He hates that his hands are shaking. “Fine, I get that you’ve been busy, what with the riders and the hunters. But it looks like you have time to figure out your hell sword and kitsune shit properly. I just want to know if you’re planning to put me in a jail cell to wait while you go and d—”

“Theo.” His name, gravely uttered by the Alpha, stops his soliloquy. “We’re not sending you back.”

“You’re… not?”

“I’ll admit, at first, when we first brought you back for the Ghost Riders, that was always the plan. But you had a hundred, maybe even a thousand opportunities to run, and you didn’t, so the plan changed to: if Theo runs, we put him back. But you didn’t.”

“No.” Theo looks away, focusing on a bullet hole on the wall opposite him, no doubt from the recent hunters. “I didn’t.”

“Why? When you escaped from the riders at the hospital, that was your first chance. Why didn’t you go?”

“Because you would have hunted me down.”

“True.” Theo still doesn’t look directly at Scott, but sees in his peripheral vision the Alpha tilting his head. “What about after? After the Ghost Riders?”

“The same reason.”

“It would have taken us some time to find you, especially with Monroe.”

Theo scoffs. “I know I’m pretty smart, definitely smarter than you, but sadly, the Dread Doctors did not bless me with clairvoyance. How was I supposed to predict an uprising?”

The Alpha gives an exasperated sigh. “So… you just stayed? Because you thought you were going back no matter what?”

Finally, Theo jerks his head back up to meet Scott’s gaze. “Does any of this even matter now?”

“I suppose not.”

“Were you going to send me back after the Ghost Riders?”

“We hadn’t decided.”

“And then you got busy.”

“Right.”

“And then during Monroe? During the hunters? Did you decide?”

“Not exactly. When you reappeared, we—”

“Escaped.”

“What?”

A muscle in Theo’s jaw clenches as he looks away again, back to the bullet hole. “I reappeared because I escaped from the hunters.”

“Oh. Yes. Right. When you escaped and came back on our radar, we talked about what to do with you again. But we needed your help.”

Theo laughs again, the sound a pained rasp, letting himself slump onto the floor, back against the fridge. There’s a small scratch on the wall near Scott’s feet. He focuses on that. “So I was right then. Now that you don’t need my help anymore, I’m going back.”

“Theo, no, we—”

“Or is the pack decision to keep me around, tethered on a leash like your guard dog, waiting for the next big bad to come around so I can follow your orders again?”

Scott reels back. “Orders?”

“That’s all this has been. Me, following your orders. Helping you and your pack on orders.”

“Theo… that may have been the case at the start, but you do realise we haven’t asked you to do anything for a while, right?”

“What? No, of course you’ve—”

“Since the zoo, with Liam. That was the last time we got you to help. Since then… you’ve…”

Scott’s voice trails off, and Theo realises it’s true. He’d just… stayed. He’d got involved. Hadn’t waited for them to tell him what to do.

“You stayed. You helped. Liam told me everything you did with him. I didn’t know if you actually cared beyond your own skin, but you stayed. You did more than we thought you would ever do. After you told us about the empty Anuk-Ite bodies that Aaron and Gabe had been hiding, that’s when we decided not to send you back.”

This cannot be true. They’re just dangling this in front of him, just letting him flirt with the idea of real, actual freedom, when it’s always, always been temporary. He whips his head up to glare at Scott, letting the anger and desperation guide him, letting it take control. “Have you forgotten what I did to you?”

“Theo, no, bu—”

Theo starts to push himself up. “I broke your pack apart. Manipulated each of you. Pulled all the strings so you’d all just be my personal marionettes, all dancing and singing for my own gain.”

“That’s not t—”

“Scott, I killed you! No, I murdered you. Tried to get Liam to—” Theo cuts off. He hadn’t been meaning to, still had words left inside, threatening to spill over. But he just can’t continue, can’t fight inevitability anymore. He lets himself fall to the ground. He finds the scratch on the wall again.

Scott isn’t even angry. Theo only scents a mix of confusion and sadness from him, which is confusing in itself. The Alpha walks towards him slowly, crouching down to fill Theo’s vision, but not near enough for either of them to touch.

“Scott,” Theo’s voice is a whisper, a plea. “Just send me back. Hell is all I’ve been made for, just do it. I know what I did. I know what I deserve.”

“Theo.” Scott’s voice isn’t a whisper, isn’t a plea, but it’s something. “We’re not sending you back. Really.”

“Then you’re dumber than you look.” The insult is plain, boring, without any of its usual bite.

“Probably.”

“What does the pack think?”

“When I said ‘we’, I meant ‘we’.”

Theo lets his eyes flick over to Scott’s eyes before flicking away. “Even Stiles? Even Liam?”

“Unanimous.”

“But not enthusiastic.”

“If it was, I’d start to worry about possessions.” There’s a small smile on Scott’s face as he says it, and Theo lets the side of his lips lift, just a touch.

“But why? It can’t just be because I stayed and helped.”

“Willingly. You stayed and helped, willingly. From the start, actually.” Scott’s surprised even as he says it, like he’d just realised it.

“That is definitely not true.” Theo says dryly.

“Isn’t it? If you believed right from the start we were always going to send you back, then helping us wouldn’t have changed anything. You didn’t have to, but you did.”

“Maybe I just wanted to breathe the beautiful fresh air for a while more.”

Scott is silent, but he doesn’t move, continues to watch Theo staring at the scratch in the wall.

“You’re different. I think part of our decision to let you stay is because you’re different since you came back. It’s small, no one knows what it is, if it’s even worth talking about. But you’re different. And you helped. So we’re not sending you back.”

“I’m not different. I haven’t changed. I’m still a monster, I’m sti—”

“You’re too smart not to notice, Theo. Even if you ignore it. Even if you believed you were going back into the ground, you know something’s different. You just don’t know what it is, either.”

History, Theo thinks to himself. But he doesn’t say anything, just lets the words sit there between them. He finally lets himself lock eyes with the Alpha.

Scott smiles again, small but genuine. “So, not as dumb as I look, then?”

Theo lets his head fall back against the fridge, another laugh huffing out of him, stained with relief. “So you’re really not sending me back.”

“Yes.”

He finally lets it wash over him, finally lets himself believe in it, finally lets him feel it. It’s not liberating, it doesn’t feel like a release. It feels… disorienting. Like when you stand up too fast and the blood rushes to your head, you know exactly where you are, you know you’re on stable ground, but it feels like you could tip over at any second.

“You really don’t know why you stayed and helped, do you?”

“Are you going to tell me?” It comes out sarcastic, but not sharp. Part of Theo hopes that Scott can give him the answer, be the all-knowing omniscient True Alpha and dictate the way Theo feels, or is supposed to feel.

“I was hoping you would.” Scott begins to stand, Theo watches, not moving from his spot, not quite sure if he should trust his own feet right at that moment. “But I suppose if you don’t even know that, then you don’t know how and why you did that at the hospital. When Gabe was dying, y—” Scott cuts himself off then. 

Theo doesn’t know why. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything. The only thing that had changed was ‘history’. That word again, entering his head the moment Scott had mentioned the hospital.

He can’t speak. Whatever he’s feeling now, he doesn’t know what it is. Doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t even want to think of that moment.

There’s a long pause where Scott only watches him, probably trying to untangle whatever Theo’s thinking from all the emotional chemosignals he’s giving off. Theo is trying to do the same. He feels things, doesn’t know what they are, and can only think of ‘history, history, history’.

Theo has no space, no desire for complex thoughts. Why does ‘history’ seem like the biggest complexity of them all?

Finally, Scott continues. “You can leave Beacon Hills. You can do whatever you want now. But if we get wind of you getting up to your old habits, or new bad habits, we will hunt you down. And we will definitely put you back.”

It’s the voice of the Alpha, a voice of conviction and purity, a voice with no room for doubt. Theo wouldn’t have doubted him anyway. 

Scott seems to be waiting for an acknowledgement, so Theo looks at him and nods once, resolutely.

As Scott makes to leave, he stops for a moment at the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at the chimera, still on the floor. Theo lifts his gaze, thinking this will probably be the last time he sees Scott.

“I hope you figure out the answer to all those questions.”

That’s all that the Alpha leaves him with as he walks out of the room, up the stairs, and probably out of his life.

“I don’t know if I want to.” Theo whispers to himself, too quiet for anyone to hear, even as ‘history’ echoes so loudly in his head. 

Why doesn’t matter now. Where is the important question. Where will he go?

And when Theo finally picks himself off the kitchen floor, he finds Liam waiting in the living room. Arms crossed, face hard. The beta nods at him. Theo nods back. And then he goes to his truck.

Chapter Text

Theo still doesn’t go to sleep. He falls asleep.

True, he can safely sleep at night now, more or less, but even without hell looming over him, the nightmares haven’t left. They’re all the same. He expects to dream of Ghost Riders, of the army of hunters, but they’re no different than before.

Still, it’s something he’s used to. So he lets the next few weeks pass in a manner of routine: wake up covered in cold sweat (sometimes mingled with his blood), find something to eat and drink (sometimes stolen, always coffee), find a place to charge his phone (sometimes let it go dead since no one ever calls or texts), find a sink to clean up as best he can (sometimes a shower, if he decides to break into the public swimming pool at night), find somewhere to park his truck (almost, always deep in the Beacon Hills preserve).

Sometimes, during his necessary forays to town, he sees what he has started to call the puppy pack. Mason, Corey, Liam, and even Nolan, who has latched onto the trio. Actually, not a trio anymore. Another young boy has joined them. Theo doesn’t know who he is, only that he’s a werewolf.

Sometimes, they see him too. At first, only Liam acknowledges him, always with a stiff nod that Theo returns. Later, Mason, Corey, and Nolan start to nod too. But it’s always wary. The new blood only watches the exchange with curious eyes.

One day, Theo is in a grocery store when he sees Liam enter with Nolan. Luckily, this is a time when he’d managed to obtain (see: steal) some cash, so he’s buying today. He doesn’t think the McCall pack would see stealing as one of the necessary sins that would result in them sending him back to hell, but why push it?

Today is different, though. Liam doesn’t nod at Theo when he sees him; he approaches instead. Theo watches the young beta as he comes toward him, practically stomping.

“Why are you here?” Liam demands, blue eyes flashing with a rage simmering but not yet overflowing.

Theo gestures with toothpaste in his right hand. “Haven’t paid.”

“I mean here, Beacon Hills. Why haven’t you just left?”

Theo turns and walks away to the cashier, even though he hadn’t gotten everything on his list. “Free country,” he tosses over his shoulder, letting himself grin as the beta growls under his breath.

At night, the question echoes in his mind. He’s been asking himself that for weeks. True, all he has is a truck and a measly collection of clothes, supplies, and random things, but everything that he’s doing to survive, he could do anywhere else. He never finds an answer, only the word ‘history’. So he stays.

***

Theo likes being in the preserve. It’s probably the most dangerous place for him to be; hunters still exist, whether they were part of Monroe’s army or not, but he likes it. 

He likes lying on the bed of his truck, staring up at the sun, letting it beat down indiscriminately onto his skin. He likes full-shifting into his coyote form, running deeper and deeper amongst the foliage, letting himself get lost in a maze of green. He likes the wet ground when it rains at night, the drops hitting his face as he lifts his gaze to the moon. 

Once upon a time, he’d hated the moon, hated that he’d never feel its pull and power as a chimera. Now, he just wants to be under it, be a part of nature.

It’s not hard to figure out why: he is starved for the sky. Years of being with the Dread Doctors and almost always underground have drained him of it. He never thought he could miss something he’d never even wanted so much.

***

The exploration takes him all over the preserve, all inches of it. He never finds the Nemeton again, never even thinks to search for it. All he knows is that he never sees it; he acknowledges the thought and continues to run, to explore, to be.

***

He stumbles on a small clearing one day while walking, this time in his human form. A cluster of trees, hiding a small circle where flowers and herbs flourish. They’re different from the rest of the forest, even the trees that surround the plants — he’s never seen anything like them before in all his exploration of the preserve. 

He recognises some of them from sight and smell alone. Oak and hawthorn, elder and yew, belladonna and mandrake, meadowsweet and henbane. There are many more he doesn’t recognise.

In the shade of an oak tree, he sees clusters of woodruff, tiny pointed white and blue petals. There are some sprouts near the blooming flowers, ones hidden in the darkest recesses of the tree’s shadow, fighting for life as the branches overhead smother them.

Without thinking, he scales the oak quickly. He makes to break off the largest of the branches that block the sprouts, but stops himself. It doesn’t feel right to do that much damage. Instead, he finds where the large branch forks out into smaller extensions and twigs, breaking off as little as he can to give the sprouts as much light as possible.

When he climbs down, he gathers all the broken pieces of the oak and lays them in the centre of the small clearing, where the light shines the brightest, where curiously only grass grows.

He doesn’t know why he does it, only that it seems fitting.

He doesn’t see the shadowy figure watching him from behind a tree that day, or the other days when he visits and repeats his actions with other trees and sprouts.

***

It’s been five weeks to the day since the final showdown with the hunters when Theo finds what he quickly deems his second favourite place in the preserve. Deep and hidden within the forest, not a place one would typically stumble upon unless, you know, they were practically living in the forest.

It’s a lake, still and clear and sparkling under the sun.

It should remind him of the river, but it doesn’t. The river is greed and suffering made tangible. This lake is silent, calm, pure.

He resolves to come back later, to go back to his truck and drive back here at night and park right by the lakeside. Maybe the tranquillity will ease his dreams. Maybe he will let himself fall asleep tonight.

***

Theo wakes up to a song that night, a haunting and achingly sweet melody in a language he doesn’t recognise. The song is loud, but not too loud, a perfect volume, permeating the windows of his truck, notes and motifs dancing in the moonlight.

The song makes him feel. No, not a song. A lament. The word comes from the depths of his brain, remembered from some classes of literature he’d taken in another life.

He recognises loneliness, guilt and desperation, emotions that he’d been stifling for weeks and weeks now, that he’d never wanted to name even as they came to pass in his chest. The song forces them out, so visceral and overwhelming that when he touches his eyes, he’s not the least surprised to find that he’s crying.

As suddenly as it began, the song stops. 

Theo wipes away the tears, focuses on pushing away the emotions, not wanting to turn them over in his mind, even as some part of him fights back. His heartbeat slows, and he settles back against the seat.

Before he can even think to find the source of the lament, another song starts up. Stronger, more purposeful than the last. Even more beautiful.

The melody is smooth and flowing, with a rhythmic pulse that brings to mind the ebbing and flowing of a gentle tide. The notes calm him, delivering a sense of peace. The heartbeat of the song reveals itself, a steady, hypnotic rhythm that goes on, and on, and on…

***

“You have to go!”

Theo suddenly finds himself stumbling back, barefoot at the lakeshore. Looking up, he sees the source of his disorientation, a… girl? Long straight black hair, glowing sea-green eyes.

No, a creature. Made up of dark feathers and scales, wickedly sharp teeth, and even sharper talons at the end of its arms. 

It shoves him again, and he stumbles back further from the water’s edge. “Leave! You don’t want to be here!”

Instinct takes over, and Theo whips out his claws, growls, and bares his own fangs. The creature only has time to widen her eyes before he leaps, a force of muscle and self-defense.

The creature is strong, but Theo has expected it. They wrestle back and forth, getting closer to the body of water. The lake isn’t calm anymore, but roiling and churning, waves growing with intensity as the dark song grows in strength, a song that Theo suddenly hears again and that now makes his stomach turn.

As the creature’s feet touch the water, its face flashes with determination, and with a new wave of strength, it pushes him back.

They land in a tangle at the base of a tree, fighting with talons and claws, shrieks and growls. Dark blood flows from the creature's abdomen as Theo strikes. A flash of pain blooms on Theo’s face as it swipes.

“You’re… you’re not a werewolf. No, you’re more than that.”

The song rises in volume and strength, in enchantment and hypnotism, and Theo turns, distracted. The creature punches him, and everything fades to black.

Chapter Text

“So, we’ve got three missing people?” Deputy Parrish nods at Sheriff Stilinski as the older man leans back in the chair at his desk.

“Anything er… out of the ordinary?”

“Not that we could tell.”

“Good, good. But that can’t be the only thing you came in here to tell me.”

“Right. I looked into it. It seems all three had a habit of jogging at night in the preserve.”

The Sheriff leans forward again. He knows what manner of creature wanders in the preserve. “You looked into it.” It’s not a question; Deputy Parrish is all kinds of thorough.

“Of course. We didn’t find any trace of them.”

“There’s a but in there.”

“But we found someone.”

“Not a body?”

“No, someone.”

***

“Those are some nasty cuts you have over there.” Theo looks up from where he’s seated in the holding room of the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department. He’s not chained up, but he is locked in an interrogation room, dragged in from when Deputy Parrish had found him knocked out cold at the lakeshore.

The Sheriff gestures at Theo’s face, and he lifts fingers to find the deep cuts from the night still there. He doesn’t let his shock show.

“What gave you those?” The Sheriff doesn’t sit, instead choosing to stand across from Theo, arms crossed. He recognises the pose well: intimidation.

He also recognises that the elder Stilinksi is patient, where the younger is impulsive. So he opens his mouth and says, “I don’t know. A bird?”

Stilinski levels him with a look of incredulity. “A bird?”

“It looked like a bird. A really big bird.”

“So, you’re saying Sesame Street attacked you last night?”

Theo rolls his eyes. “Yes, exactly. I expect Elmo will find me later to finish the job.”

“You don’t remember anything else? You were knocked out cold when Deputy Parrish found you by the lake. That’s extremely deep in the woods.”

“Just… talons. Really, really sharp ones, evidently.”

Stilinski gestures at the window where the aforementioned deputy had been watching. He comes into the room almost immediately.

“When exactly did you see this er… bird?” The Sheriff asks, ignoring Parrish as he double-takes at the ridiculous question.

“Last night.”

Parrish frowns and opens his mouth, but Stilinski continues before the deputy can say anything. “And what were you doing out by the lake at night? That’s pretty deep into the woods. We only found you when one of the forest rangers called it in.”

“Looking for Cookie Monster. I was hoping we could sing songs by a campfire.” Stilinski only waits. “It’s a peaceful place.”

There’s no knowing look on Stilinski’s face even as he carefully observes Theo. Enough of his deputies had found him sleeping in vehicles in weeks past, enough that there doesn’t need to be any acknowledgement between them.

“You didn’t see anyone else last night, did you? Any joggers?”

“Not at all. Not even a peep from Bert and Ernie.” Whatever he saw, it hadn’t been a person.

“Fine. You can go, but don’t leave town.”

Theo wants to laugh at that. When he could leave, he found himself inexplicably staying. Now, when he wanted to run from creepy songs and bird-women, he was stuck. Again.

“Wait, Sheriff.”

“What Parrish?” The older man is a little exasperated, clearly wanting to get Theo out of his presence as soon as possible.

“He hasn’t healed.”

“What?”

“I drove out to get him this morning, but it’s been hours since. And even longer since Theo said he was knocked out. So why hasn’t he healed?” The hellhound turns to face Theo, no sympathy in his gaze, only a question. “Why haven’t you healed?”

Theo traces the slashes on his face again, deep and throbbing. “I don’t know.”

“Wolfsbane?” The Sheriff speculates.

“No, not wolfsbane. I’m not affected by it, I’m not a werewolf, I’m a…” Theo lets his voice trail off.

“Right.” Stilinski frowns down at him, seemingly wrestling with something before he finally says, “You might want to get that looked at, then.”

***

Late evening has descended on Beacon Hills by the time Theo makes up his mind to head to the Animal Clinic. The cuts still hadn’t healed. He couldn’t go to the hospital; he had almost exactly zero money. He also doubts that Melissa would ever give him the time of day, even if he showed up on her doorstep with his intestines hanging out.

Also, he just did not like the hospital, for obvious reasons.

The door jingles as he pushes his way in, and Deaton emerges from the treatment room, “Sorry, we’re clo—”, he stops short in both sentence and step as he sees Theo.

They stare each other down for a long moment.

“Theo.”

“Deaton.”

“Why are you here?”

Theo waves a hand at his face. “A social visit, obviously.”

“Those don’t look deep enough to warrant my expertise. You’ll heal.” He begins to turn back into his treatment room. Brave. He knows the mountain ash built into the entryway wouldn’t deter Theo.

“Wait. Please.” Deaton stops, but doesn’t turn. “It’s been almost a day.”

At that, the druid turns. “A day?”

“Yes, this happened last night.”

Deaton just looks at him then, not at the cuts, but into his eyes. Theo gets the sense that if he looks away, the doctor will never help him.

“Fine.” Deaton opens the barrier at the counter. “Come in.”

***

The metal of the table is cold, seeping through Theo’s jeans, but his attention is focused on the doctor in front of him, a puzzled frown on his face as he gently prods and pokes at the cuts on Theo’s face. A deeper press has the chimera hissing sharply but softly, and Deaton flinches. A small, stifled flinch, but a flinch nonetheless.

The doctor chooses to continue as if nothing happened, and Theo follows his lead.

“Do you remember what caused these?”

“A bird.”

“A bird?”

“I don’t know. Something bird-like. But it was big, and had talons, feathers and… I think scales, too?”

“Hmm.” Deaton turns away from Theo, fiddling with something on his counters. “Where did this happen?”

“By a lake. In the Beacon Hills Preserve.” Deaton stills at Theo’s declaration for so long that he thinks the doctor hadn’t heard him. “Doc?”

“I have a theory.” He turns, and it’s Theo’s turn to flinch at the scalpel in his hand. “Will you let me? Or if you’re more comfortable, you can do it.” He gestures at Theo’s arm. “I’d like to test your healing factor to see if it's isolated to the cuts you received last night or not. It doesn’t have to be a deep cut.”

Theo weighs this in his head for a moment, then nods, lifting his exposed arm like an offering. It hits him with a sense of déjà vu for a moment that he quickly shakes off. 

He holds his breath as the doctor cuts, not deep as he promised, barely deep enough to draw blood. They both watch silently as, after a few seconds, Theo’s flesh knits itself back together.

“It’s as I suspect.” Deaton says softly, but not with his signature neutrality, with a touch of worry.

“Doc?”

“I have one more test. And if I’m right, this will jumpstart your healing on the cuts. Are you hurt anywhere else?” 

Theo shakes his head, no. He’d checked. He remembered getting some bruises and broken ribs from the tussle with the bird creature, but nothing else that had drawn blood. Everything else had healed.

“Alright, then wait here.”

The doctor leaves to go into an adjoining room, and Theo takes the opportunity to look around, at the surgical equipment that leaves him with a vague sense of unease, at the bottles labelled with words he can barely pronounce, at the jars filled with powders and leaves and tinctures.

Deaton comes back holding a large, heavy-looking wooden barrel. The doctor flinches again, bigger this time, as Theo jumps off the table suddenly, the barrel slipping from his grasp. Theo only catches it, turning it around and setting it on the table before he hops back up beside it, right where he’d been before.

Deaton frowns at him again, before finally saying, “Thank you.”

“You have my pretty face in your hands, after all.”

The doctor merely shakes his head before picking up a small plastic cup and approaching the barrel, opening it. There’s only water inside, pristine and clear.

“Water?” The chimera asks skeptically.

“Yes, but not quite. Want to try again?”

Theo leans over the open barrel and breathes in deeply. It is water but… different. Contrary to popular belief, drinking water doesn’t smell like nothing; it smells like the minerals it contains, hints of acid and salt. Only a supernatural being would be able to smell it. Or an unnatural one.

“Er, purified water?”

“Closer but not entirely correct. Here,” Deaton dips the plastic cup into the barrel, “Shut your eyes.”

Theo does and feels the water being poured over his face. It’s cold, colder than water from an old barrel in a sterile storage room should be. A soothing sensation washes over his face, oddly calming, and then he feels it, his flesh knitting back together.

Pressing tentative fingertips to his face, he finds the cuts gone. The area is still sore, though, which is normal; he’d learned long ago that you heal from the outside in.

Deaton is frowning again, at the place where his slashes had once been.

“So… holy water?”

A ghost of a smile flits across Deaton’s face before it disappears as quickly as it came. “Siren water, actually. Any injuries caused by sirens that draw blood take much longer to heal. The water helps bring the healing back to normal speed.”

“Siren? Those mermaid things from Greek mythology?”

“Technically, sirens are more mermaid-like in Roman mythology, though yes, they were originally featured in Greek myths.”

“But what I saw last night had feathers and talons.”

“Yes, that would be more of the Greek side of the stories.”

“But it also had scales. So… they’re both bird-like and fish-like?”

“I believe so, though having never encountered a siren before myself, I cannot say with certainty. But as you know, all myths, no matter their source, have some form of truth to them.”

“You know almost everything about werewolves, but not sirens?” Theo asks skeptically.

“Well, I have spent most of my life as werewolf emissary, you know.”

“Then how did you have the water? How did you know that these came from a siren?”

“You were near water. It was an educated guess.”

“That only answers my second question.”

Deaton studies Theo again, clearly weighing out how much to say. “The water came from my mentor. She knew a siren once, but not for long.”

“Oh?”

“A siren was what killed her.”

“Oh. What else do you know, then?”

“Only that there is clearly now a siren in Beacon Hills.”

Great. Yet another supernatural creature that he’d probably end up fighting. Only… he didn’t have to. Not anymore. 

From the back of Theo’s mind come some memories of sirens, all pulled from Greek and Roman myths. He ponders them as Deaton busies himself with keeping away the barrel. 

“They sing, don’t they?” He asks as Deaton emerges from the storage room.

“I’m sorry?”

“Sirens. They sing. They hypnotised men and… killed them.” Drowned them.

“That’s correct.”

“In mythology, or real life?”

“Both.” Deaton doesn’t elaborate.

“I heard a song.”

The frown is back on Deaton’s face. “You did?”

“Two, actually. I was by the lake just… walking. The first was… sad. Painful, almost. Then it stopped.”

“A Lament.” 

“The second was calming, soothing. It felt almost like a lullaby. I think I fell asleep for a second, and then I saw the Siren. It, or… she?”

Deaton nods. “Sirens are always female.”

“She was shoving at me, saying something. I don’t remember what she said.”

“Were you in the same place as when you heard the Lament?”

“No, I was closer to the water then, but I don’t know how I got there.”

“It wasn’t a lullaby. It was an Allure.”

“But she wasn’t trying to kill me. It almost felt like she was trying to get me away from the water when we were fighting. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Did you hear the song? When you were fighting?”

“Yes, I…” Theo trails off as he tries to remember. “We were fighting, but the song kept going. It wasn’t calming anymore, it was dark and… the water. The lake, it wasn’t still; waves were rising.”

“The siren that was fighting you, it wasn’t singing the song?”

Theo rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Can they sing without opening their mouths? Or while they speak?”

“I have no idea.”

Theo glares at the doctor. “You’re not very useful then, are you.”

Deaton doesn’t flinch this time. “I did heal you.” 

“But you don’t know much.”

“No, but why do you need to?” There is another question implied: is he planning to help the McCall pack investigate?

“Gotta know what I’m fighting for the best chance of survival, right?” Theo mutters. 

If Deaton is disappointed, he doesn’t show it.

“So,” Theo continues, “This could mean there’s more than one siren, right?”

“Possibly, but unlikely. Sirens are very rare, rarer even than kitsune. What you were suggesting sounds possible too, that sirens may not need their mouths to sing.”

“I do not like that.” Theo declares flatly.

“Neither do I.”

“Do you know why sirens kill?” Why they lure people to watery depths, while they watch and wait for that last desperate gasp that only signifies an end, a painful—

“Apparently, it brings them power.” Deaton’s voice interrupts Theo’s thoughts, thoughts that had been threatening to spill over before he could stifle them. “But what type of power and how much, I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

If Deaton sensed any unease from Theo, unease that Theo was desperately trying to ignore, he didn’t show it; he merely turned back to his counter to rearrange the items upon it.

Absently, Theo’s fingers find his face again. “Doc, will you—”

“No, Theo, your face will not scar. Even without the water, you would have healed fine, it would have just taken longer.”

“That’s not what I was going to say.” Theo mutters again.

“Oh?”

“Will you tell the pack about this? Scott, or… I guess Liam now?”

Deaton pauses for a small moment before answering. “Why not tell them yourself?”

The chimera shrugs.

“Yes, they should be informed. Can you remember anything else that I should pass on to them?”

“No. Wait, yes. When she cut me, she seemed to realise I wasn’t just a werewolf.”

“This was when you were fighting?”

“Yeah, I had my fangs and claws out, and when she cut me, she seemed surprised, like she was expecting a werewolf but found… something else.”

“Alright. I’ll pass along the message.”

Chapter Text

The next day finds Theo back at the Animal Clinic. No, literally. He’s hiding in the back alleyway, separated only by a wall from Deaton’s treatment room and the younger members of the pack gathered there. 

Everyone’s there. Liam, Mason, Corey, even Nolan, and the new blood. Theo is especially surprised to hear Parrish’s voice, though he does think it’s a smart decision to have the hellhound/deputy involved from the beginning. If Scott and Stiles had only kept the Sheriff in the loop through all their struggles, perhaps things would have played out differently for the better. Though Stiles had likely just wanted to keep his dad out of the action for as long as he could. 

Theo scowls as he listens, realising that Deaton really doesn’t know much about sirens. What he tells the puppy pack is hardly any different from what he’d told Theo. He recognises that Deaton could have told him much less than he did, though he doesn’t understand why the druid had been so forthcoming with him.

The only new thing he learns is that sirens are shifters too, that they have their monstrous form just like werewolves, and a human one, with the human side being incredibly beautiful. It’s technically not entirely new information for the chimera — he’d remembered as much from the myths. 

“You’re sure it’s not anyone we know?” He hears Liam ask, or more like demand, "The supernatural that was attacked. Do we know them?”

The doctor sighs. “Yes, Liam, for the third time, it was no one you know. And I think they would appreciate their anonymity.”

Theo recognises that Deaton also had no reason not to reveal his name.

He hears Parrish’s voice next. “And the attack, it happened two nights ago?”

“That’s right.”

“We got a report of three missing people the next morning. All joggers who frequent the paths in the preserve.”

“Okay,” Mason’s voice is next. “Did we know if they jog near water? Sirens are usually found near water in the myths.”

Oh no. 

“No, but… someone else was found near the water. Theo.”

“Theo?” Liam’s voice, as always when it comes to the chimera, is tinged with more than just a little anger. 

Theo listens as the deputy fills them in, even mentioning the deep cuts he and the Sheriff had seen on his face the next day. 

“So Theo was the one who came to you!” Theo can almost imagine the scene, Liam cutting accusatory blue eyes at the doctor. 

“No,” Deaton’s response is firm. “It wasn’t Theo. Why would Theo come to me for healing?”

“Fine.” Liam’s words are begrudging. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“So we have five victims then,” Corey speaks up. “The three missing joggers, the anonymous supernatural and… Theo.”

“Okay. Then I suppose we all know what we have to do next, right?” Mason’s question is met with silence. Theo wonders for a moment if they’re nodding or just confused. Stupid. The answer is obvious. 

“I’ll continue looking into the joggers,” Parrish says. “See if there’s any connection between them that might show if they were targeted or just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Corey and I will start looking into siren myths. See if we can find anything about why exactly they want to lure and kill people, and if it makes any difference if the people are supernatural or not.”

“You should probably see if there’s any way to block the siren songs.” Deaton adds. 

“What about Alec and me?” Nolan pipes up. Ah, the new blood’s name is Alec. 

“Uh, focus on school and lacrosse?” Corey tells them. 

“Then why are we even here if you’re not letting us help!” It’s a new voice. 

“We are keeping you in the loop,” Liam says firmly. “Letting you know what to look out for so you can tell us if you see anything weird.”

“Or hear anything weird.” Mason adds. 

“I hope no one hears anything weird.” Liam mutters, and there are some murmurs of assent. 

“Okay, then. We’re all good.” Mason says, and Theo can hear the sounds of chairs scraping the floor, the unmistakable signs of leaving. 

“Wait.” It’s Liam again. “What’s my job?”

“Theo, obviously.” Corey says with surprise.

“Theo? Why do I need to talk to Theo?”

“Well,” Mason says with exasperation, “Maybe he remembered something more from that night. Maybe he’ll tell you something he won’t tell Deaton.”

“He has no reason to tell me anything he wouldn’t tell Deaton.”

“I mean… he did help you out a lot with the hunters. More than we thought he would.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.” The familiar stubborn tone in Liam’s voice almost makes Theo grin. 

“At the very least,” Corey adds tentatively. “We should see if he’s been healing alright, since siren wounds take longer.”

“Parrish said it wasn’t life-threatening.” He sounds even more obstinate now, and Theo does grin this time, imagining the beta glaring around the room with his arms crossed. 

“The wound could get infected!”

“We have a fully functioning hospital.”

“Liam.” Mason pleads. 

“Fine. Only for information. He can die from infection for all I care.”

The meeting does end then, and Theo stays put as everyone leaves. It’s too risky to move now.

Eventually, it’s just one heartbeat left. Deaton. Theo steps out from the alley, jumping when he finds the doctor waiting by the driveway. 

“How did you know I was here?”

“I had my suspicions. I told you I didn’t know much about sirens.”

“Had to be sure, didn’t I?”

“Anything to keep yourself alive, right?”

“Right.” Theo makes to leave, then turns back to the doctor. “Thanks, I guess, for not... telling them it was me.”

Deaton nods once. “They will find out eventually. Liam is too singularly focused to let the ‘anonymous’ supernatural lead go.”

“I know.” And he does, even as he feels the phone vibrate in his pocket with his first message in weeks. 

It’s Liam. 

***

The high school lacrosse field is an interesting place for a meeting. Theo had arrived ten minutes early and was now sitting on the bleachers, arms resting on the bench behind him, leaning up to gaze at the sky through his sunglasses. It’s bright and blue, sun blazing without mercy, the type of day where anything feels possible.

He hears footsteps approaching, but doesn’t move. The footsteps stop as a shadow falls across his face.

“Theo.”

“Liam.”

The beta continues to stand silently in front of Theo.

“Are you here to watch me sunbathe? Should I take off my shirt?”

“Ugh.” Theo doesn’t have to look to know that Liam is rolling his eyes. “Just tell me about the siren.”

“I told Deaton. Pretty sure he told you everything I said.”

“Just tell me what happened!”

“I was at the lake, I heard a sad song, it stopped, I heard a second nicer song, I blacked out and found myself at the water’s edge, then a crazy bird-woman attacked while the second song became creepy.”

“Theo!”

“What? Why should I waste my breath telling you something you already know?”

“God, you are such an asshole.”

“Oh, Liam, you wound me so deeply.” Theo punctuates his statement by linking his hands behind his head, leaning back leisurely. He hears the beta take some deep breaths before speaking again.

“Why were you at the lake so late at night?”

“Like I told Stilinski and Parrish, it’s a peaceful place.”

“Exactly the kind of place you hate, isn’t it? Aren’t sewers and tunnels better places to plot your world domination or whatever?”

Theo turns towards Liam, tilting the rim of his sunglasses down with a smirk to finally look him in the eyes. “I would never be that predictable.”

Theo watches Liam as the beta runs a hand over his face, muttering things to himself that sound suspiciously like, ‘why me’ and ‘this fucking guy’. He takes the opportunity to observe him properly. He’d gotten his hair cut. It still ran long and slightly wavy, but it looked neater, more put-together than the straggly lengths he’d sported since the hunters. He wore a simple grey henley, the sleeves pushed up beyond the elbow, thrown on over an old pair of dark blue jeans.

“We heard the lake is really deep in the woods. Kinda weird to go that far just for some sightseeing.”

“So you haven’t been to the lake yet.”

“No, it didn’t seem like a good idea considering sirens can literally hypnotise and kill us with just their voice.”

“Smart.” Theo pauses. “Mason’s idea?”

“Yeah,” Liam admits with a huff. “You didn’t answer my question, though.”

Theo leans back onto the bench again with a grin, “Wasn’t aware you asked one.”

“It was implied!”

“Ooh, big word. Prepping for the SATS?”

“Theo.” The chimera’s name out of the young werewolf’s mouth is a warning.

“Alright, alright.” Theo finally sits up, removing his sunglasses to properly look at Liam. “I wasn’t lying when I said I thought it was a nice place when I found it. So I decided to drive back at night and—”

“Drive? I thought you told Stilinski you went for a walk?”

“Technically, a mode of transportation was never specified.”

“So what, you drove an hour into the forest just to see a lake?”

“It’s a very pretty lake.”

“Late at night.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Theo is practiced enough at managing his heart rate that he knows Liam would never be able to pick up on the lie.

“Fine. Then what happened?”

With a sigh, Theo resigns himself to telling Liam everything that had happened, in excruciating detail. It involves a lot of questions from the beta, many of which have Theo wanting to roll his eyes, but he holds back, knowing it would only prolong the interrogation.

“And that’s it?” Finally.

“Yeah,” Theo nods. “That’s it. That’s all I remember.”

“Alright.” But the beta just stands there, watching him. “So you’re all healed up then?”

“Aw, were you worried about my pretty face?”

“No,” Liam scoffs, “Just wondering how long it’d take to heal. Seems like something the pack should be aware of if we ever have to fight the thing.”

Oh. “Yeah, the skin stitched up together when I woke up today, but it’s still sore on the inside.”

“What does that mean?”

“Do you not pay attention in biology? Wounds heal from the outside in. That’s why whenever you get shot, you still feel sore for a while even if the bullet hole is gone.”

“That doesn’t sound like something we ever covered in biology.”

Theo starts at that, looking away from Liam, frowning in thought. “Wait, but I remember—”

A laboratory. A body on a table. Streams of tears and a small, trembling hand with a scalpel. Flaps of skin being pulled back. Organs on trays. Another body, a werewolf. Another trembling hand with forceps. Another bo—

“What?”

The images disappeared as fast as they came, leaving only a vague memory of lessons with the Dread Doctors, and a strange, completely unfamiliar sensation of trepidation. It made no sense.

“Never mind. It’s just something I know.”

The beta rolls his eyes. “Alright then. Two days for slashes from talons. Got it. Bye.”

Liam has taken exactly twelve steps from Theo before the chimera speaks again. “Wait.”

“What.” The werewolf doesn’t even turn.

Theo hesitates. “It doesn’t… it doesn’t take two days.”

Liam looks over his shoulder at Theo. 

“I… I went to Deaton. Two nights ago. The night after the attack.”

Liam fully turns around at that, stomping back to Theo. “I fucking knew it was you ! Why didn’t Deaton tell us? Did you threaten him?”

“No! I just asked him not to say anything.”

“That means you threatened him.”

“I did not! You can check with him. I asked and he agreed.”

“Why would he agree to lie to us for you?”

“I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want you and the puppy pack hanging around me!”

“Why would you— puppy pack?”

Theo shrugs. “It fits.”

Liam only shakes his head. “Why didn’t you want us to know?” Theo just looks at him. “Okay. So, how much of it healed by the time you got to Deaton?”

“Not much. It’d been almost a day, and the wounds had barely begun stitching together. By my estimation, it’d probably take about four days to fully heal, when it should usually take just a few hours. They were pretty deep cuts.”

Liam just stares at him.

“What?”

“How would you even know that?”

Theo blinks, thinking again of the Dread Doctors and biology lessons. “I just do.”

The two boys just remain there, one standing, one sitting, both staring.

“Why did you tell me? Deaton probably would have gone on lying for you. We would have found out about the healing process eventually. Why did you tell us?”

“You may not worry about my pretty face, but maybe I worry about yours.”

“Yeah, right. Fine, if you’re not going to tell me that, tell me why you’re even here.”

“Me? You’re the one who texted me, asking to m—”

“No, here! Still here, in Beacon Hills. Why haven't you just left?!”

“Stilinski told me not to leave town.”

“That was two days ago, Theo. You’ve had, like, a month to leave! Scott told you you could go. Why are you still here?!”

Theo has no answer to that, doesn’t even think he can come up with a pretty lie that would make sense enough to satisfy Liam.

“Whatever.” The werewolf leaves Theo sitting on the bench, as a cloud covers the sun, casting a long shadow on the chimera.

Chapter Text

Theo still parks in the woods at night, still wanders amongst the trees in the day. He stays away from the lake, though he’s curious about the state of the place after the night of the siren (sirens?) and how them potentially killing three people may have changed it. But where else can he go?

It’s the day after his meeting with Liam, and he’s back in the little clearing with the odd trees and plants, carrying with him a spare water bottle with a cap that he’d poked holes into. He has a few worn pieces of paper with him, photocopies from books on plants he’d found at the library (he’d also very conveniently ‘found’ a library card which he’d used to get the copies). 

The chimera takes his time, wandering from shrub to shrub, giving some a little water when he deems it necessary, unpacking the soil around others. He refers to the pages when he needs to, but mostly goes by instinct, like when he finds some clusters of overcrowding basil, taking the time to replant them with ample space for each to thrive.

“You have some skill with that.” Theo jumps at the voice behind him, falling immediately into a defensive position, though he keeps his claws sheathed.

Deaton stands at the edge of a clearing, partially shadowed by an alder tree. 

“I noticed you broke off some branches of the tree to give the lemon balm more light, but left the foxglove flowers in the shade.”

“Did you follow me?” The words come from a deep pit in his stomach, a growl.

“Since when have you had such an affinity for plants?”

“If we’re just going to answer questions with more questions, we’ll be here all day.”

Deaton gives him a small smile. “No, I’ve been taking care of this grove since before you were born. Maybe even longer.”

“This is your space? A space for druids?”

“Of course. Where else do you think I get the plants for my work?”

“Amazon Prime.”

Deaton chuckles, emerging from the shadows to pluck some yellow flowers from the ground. “Not quite. This is one of our sacred spaces. Through an ancient power harnessed through the four primal elements, we’re able to grow much of what we need, even when it’s out of season or not native to the area. I’m sure you’ve noticed many plants are unique to this grove.”

“The elements? But there’s no fire.”

Deaton merely gestures upwards with his hand. “The sun.”

“Right. If it’s your sacred space, like the Nemeton, how was I able to just find it? I’ve been wandering around this forest so much but have never been able to find the Nemeton again.”

“The Nemeton is protected by an ancient magic that makes it incredibly hard to find. The magic here just makes things grow more abundantly. Anyone can simply stumble upon it.”

“I see. Great. Have fun with your flowers.” Theo makes to leave, but is stopped by Deaton’s voice.

“Wait a moment. Come, look at this holly tree. Do you see those leaves? The ones on the lower branches?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Theo wanders toward the tree Deaton had pointed out, both of them standing near each other.

“They look like they’re wilting, they’re yellower than the rest.”

“That’s right. Any ideas what could be causing it?”

Theo could just leave, could just go and never come back, but there’s something in Deaton’s placid tone and expectant face that makes him stay, that makes him gently run his hands on the trunk of the tree, prodding for cracks and holes. He makes his way to the roots, digging into the ground until he finds what he’s looking for: a thick root, almost black, and too soft to the touch.

“This looks like root rot?”

“As I suspected. Would you like to help me prune them?”

Theo straightens and stares down at the doctor, crouched by the tree, small and so vulnerable. “Why would you ask me to do that?”

Deaton turns back to the affected root, dusting away the soil. “It seems like something you’d enjoy, given what you’ve been doing over the past few weeks here.”

“You… you’ve seen me?”

“Oh, many times.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Why would you want me in your special place?” Theo snaps at the vet, feeling oddly off-balance, “Don’t you know what I’m capable of? I could destroy or poison every single thing here, easily!”

Deaton pulls out some shears, calmly setting about pruning the affected root. “Of course you could. But would you?”

Theo doesn’t think he can answer, isn’t even sure of what he would say. Instead, he bends, and the doctor gestures toward another root, which Theo starts to gently unearth and dust off, checking for more signs of root rot.

It’s not particularly easy work, especially under the heat of the afternoon sun, but both chimera and doctor work quietly, passing the shears between them. It’s not a comfortable silence, but it’s not entirely tense either.

Finally, they’re done, and both stand, dusting off their pants and palms. Deaton turns to study Theo, who only looks back at him defiantly, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“I see you noticed the overcrowded basil plants. It was good work separating some of them. Basil grows very fast.”

A vision overtakes Theo suddenly: strong but gentle female hands guiding smaller ones repotting seedlings, a sweet voice saying, ‘We must always remember to keep an eye on our basil. Basil grows very fast…’

“Theo?”

Theo blinks, the images fading away as quickly as they came, seeing the slightly concerned face of the doctor in front of him. He’s taken a step closer, hand slightly raised, as if he’d wanted to place it on his shoulder but couldn’t quite make himself complete the movement.

“What?”

The doctor’s eyes narrow. “You looked like you were miles away.”

“Just… thinking about something.”

“I see. Well, if you’d still like to help, I was planning to take a look at the rosemary. They look about ready to harvest.”

“I… uh… alright.” He joins Deaton at the herb plant, idly plucking the little stems.

Again, they work in silence until Theo tentatively says, “You had a lot of basil plants. Doesn’t seem like the most mystical, druid-type plant.”

“You’d be surprised. But I am fond of a nice, freshly made pesto.”

Theo cracks a small smile. “I never liked the stuff. But I like it on pizza. We used to…” He trails off, a blurry image at the edge of his mind.

“You used to make pizza?” His vision clears again at the sound of Deaton’s voice.

Then, it's gone. “I eat it.”

“Ah.” 

They continue their work in silence until the vet speaks again, in a plain, matter-of-fact voice. “You know, it was a shame that Scott, as my intern at the clinic, didn’t have any interest in plants. He had a real passion for working with animals, but I’d have enjoyed showing him this other part of my work.”

“I suppose it would have been helpful for him and the pack.”

“Indeed. And I’ve been so busy lately that I haven’t been able to take care of this place as much as I’d like to, especially since I’m currently the only staff member at the clinic. But you’ve done quite good work in my absence, so I suppose I should thank you for that. Have you worked with plants much?”

Theo blinks, trying to think, trying to pull back everything that had just been in his mind. It doesn’t work. “No.”

“Well, you have good instincts.”

Soon, they’re done, and Deaton packs their harvest into a small plastic bag. 

“Thank you, Theo. I need to get back to the clinic now.” He turns, but Theo stops him.

“Deaton, I… I won’t come here anymore, don’t worry.”

“That’s alright. You’re welcome here anytime.”

“But… really? Aren’t you afraid of wh—”

“We’ve been through that already, Theo. Having the ability to do something doesn’t equal a desire to follow through.” Theo just looks at the ground, idly pushing around a pebble with his foot. “Besides, if you do try, there are many things here with which I could thoroughly disarm you, as you probably already know.”

Theo just nods numbly.

Deaton turns back again when he’s at the edge of the clearing. “I have to ask, why are you here, Theo?”

Theo knows what he’s really asking.  “Everyone’s been asking me that lately.”

“Likely because they want to know the answer.”

“I’m not… I don’t know.”

The doctor stares at him for a long moment before nodding and finally leaving.

***

After a quick, sneaky shower at a public pool, Theo heads to the public library. The puppy pack would probably decide to drag him in to help with the siren problem at some point, but in the meantime, Theo was not going to be running around Beacon Hills without at least some information on sirens to fall back on. Who knew how long it would take for them to come crying for a guard dog, anyway?

A few hours pass while Theo reads as much as he can about sirens from the works of Homer, Ovid, Apollonius, Pindar, Virgil, and more. They’re all largely the same: beautiful women who sometimes appear as monstrous creatures with feathers, wings, scales, or talons, who all lure men to watery death with their song.

The only useful bit is that Odysseus’ crew plugged their ears with wax to avoid hearing them sing, which hardly seems comfortable and effective in the long term.

He’s about to give up for the day when he spots them: Mason and Corey, looking frustrated as they poke through the shelves at the Greek and Roman mythology sections. Almost as if they can feel him watching them, they turn.

“So, you’re where all the useful books have gone.” Mason says, approaching his table.

“I am a useful sort of person, gotta keep up.”

“Right. So… found anything useful then, ‘useful person’?”

Theo cocks his head, “Have you?”

Mason and Corey exchange a look, coming to some sort of nonverbal decision in that annoying way couples do, and sit down at the table. “Only wax, but that doesn’t seem like the best idea long term.”

“Odysseus? Yeah, I found that too. I’ve been trying to pin down their origins, like who or where they came from. Thought maybe that could help, but there are… a lot of variations.”

Mason nods. “The stories about them coming from the Titans, the Furies, and all that, right? We found those too. Myths are supposed to have some truth to them, but they can’t all be true.”

Theo shrugs. “Unless there are different types of sirens? Like kitsune?”

Mason shakes his head. “No, sirens sing, so it should have something to do with song. The closest myth is that they’re daughters of Achelous, the river god, and a Muse, but the usual Muse cited in the siren creation myths are Melpomene, the Muse of Tragedy, or Terpsichore, the Muse of Dance. But Euterpe is the Muse of Music.”

Both Corey and Theo blink at Mason.

“What? I like mythology, always have. I’ve been reading as much as I can lately, especially since, you know, a lot of it tends to be real around here.”

Theo sighs, slamming the book in front of him shut. “Why are you telling me all of this?”

Corey shoots back, “Why are you?”

“The more information I get, the safer I feel.”

“Well, yeah. It’s the same for us.”

The couple stares Theo down before he finally says, “Fine, but it seems like we’ve hit a bit of a dead end.”

Corey puts a finger to his mouth, worrying his bottom lip. “It seems like whatever you’ve found is similar to what we found in the school library. But we haven’t found anything useful here.”

“Are we just stating the obvious now?”

“No, I mean… there has to be somewhere else we can get more information. Information that most of the world wouldn’t have or need to know.”

“I repeat, are we just stating the obvious now?” The couple just looks at Theo. “You mean you haven’t checked them yet?”

“What?”

“The Bestiaries! Don’t you have a copy from Argent? Or Peter?”

Mason and Cory look at each other. “We have Argent’s, but we think it’s incomplete. Like we only have part one or something.”

“Then just call him and ask for the missing pieces.”

“Well, we would, but he’s been… travelling. Said he needed a break.”

“Jesus. It’s a fucking phone call. Hell, even a text message would do.”

“We just don’t want to worry him.”

“Then don’t! Just shoot a text like ‘hey ex-hunter man, we’ve been studying up your Bestiary, just in case, don’t worry, nothing weird happening here. But we noticed it’s missing some pages. Mind sending us a copy? WeTransfer has a limit of 2GB for the free version! Smiley face smiley face.'”

“That will absolutely worry him,” Mason says.

“Then let him worry, he’s a big boy. Are you seriously weighing the pros and cons of disturbing Argent versus trying to get to the sirens?”

Corey looks at Mason. “You know I don’t like agreeing with Theo, but he has a point.”

“But when Argent left, remember, he was very, very firm about us not disturbing him on his break.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Theo interrupts, “But he’s said that many times, and every time he was off hunting down the yeti or whatever.”

Corey shrugs. “He has a bigger point.”

“God, finally. Now, what about Peter?”

“Er…” Mason says slowly, “No one wants to talk to Peter.”

“Of course, no one wants to talk to that megalomaniac, but doesn’t it seem like you need to?” The couple just looks at Theo, with eyebrows raised. “Yes, yes, I see the hypocrisy. Do you see what I’m getting at?”

“I mean,” Corey looks at Mason, “I guess if Argent doesn’t respond?”

“You are asking for information, not pledging allegiance to a demon wolf.”

“But that’s the thing about Peter, he always wants something in return.”

“Smart people always do.”

Mason side-eyes Theo. “Is this your way of saying you want something in return for you helping us?”

“Yeah. Tell me what you find out.”

“Anything to save your own skin, huh.”

“Look,” Theo stands, piling up the books he’d taken into a teetering stack, “I see this as a quid pro quo situation. You tell me everything you learn, and I’ll tell you the next time a creepy bird woman tries to kill me.”

Theo is about to gather the stack into his arms when Mason’s arm suddenly shoots out.

“Wait, is that Aphrodite?”

Theo glances down at the top book in his pile, picking it up. “Yeah, some painting about her birth.”

“I remember something about that story.” Mason snatches the book away, instigating sounds of mild protest from the chimera. He flips through the pages, saying as he goes, “I remember this poem from this guy—”

“What guy?” Corey pipes up.

Mason shoots him an exasperated look. “Some long-dead poet. Anyway, in a lot of the stories of Aphrodite, she’s born when one of the Titans, Uranus is castrated. His uh… stuff is thrown down into the sea, and she’s born from the foam that rises from it.”

“That,” Theo declares, “is the most disgusting creation story I’ve ever heard. And I was made in a test tube.”

“Right, but listen, in that poem —here it is— it’s said that her birth was heralded by song, a song so beautiful it made the gods themselves weep. Aphrodite is the goddess of beauty. And sirens, they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“Where are you going with this?”

“What if this is the thread we’re missing? This is the only story I’ve read that says that Aphrodite was born to song. What if sirens are similar? What if, when they’re born, they sing the most strong and beautiful song?”

Theo sits back down. “Are you saying that what I heard at the lake was a siren being born? That feels like a very loose connection.”

“True, but we’ve been checking missing person logs with Parrish since the night you heard the song, and no one else besides the three joggers has gone missing. Maybe they can only sing that strongly when they’re born.”

“And the more people they kill, the more power they get to sing stronger songs,” Corey adds.

“Yeah! Look, guys, I know it’s just a theory, but it’s something.”

“Is it?” Theo asks skeptically. “There’s nothing about Aphrodite singing songs to lure men to their deaths.”

“Not directly. But she’s also associated with seduction. And come on, she’s always seducing gods and other men in the stories. She almost never targets women. Tell me that’s not a siren thing!”

Theo frowns, rubbing a hand across his jaw. “Maybe. I was wondering about that, if women are affected. The myths pretty much exclusively state men.”

“Right! And,” here Mason slams the book closed, showing the painting on the cover, “Look at this. This is a depiction of Aphrodite’s birth. Look at the men in the painting. They’re clearly sailors, there’s a shipwreck behind them.”

Theo looks at the painting for a moment before looking directly at Mason. “Okay, maybe you have something. It’s better than what we currently have anyway. Which is basically nothing.”

Mason has a pleased expression on his face, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. “Great. I’ll see if I can find any more connections while we wait for Argent to reply. In the meantime, we’ll ask Liam about going to see Peter.”

Theo raises a brow. “Ask him about going or ask him to go?”

Mason shrugs sheepishly, “Probably both. He won’t like it.”

“You know,” Corey adds thoughtfully, “You should probably go with him.”

“And why on earth would I do that?”

“Think of it as part of the quid pro quo situation.”

“He’s right,” Mason nods, giving his boyfriend an impressed look. “Liam won’t be able to see through Peter’s manipulations as well as you can.”

“I am going to take that as a compliment.”

“So that’s a yes?” Mason asks eagerly.

Theo scowls. “Fine, just tell him to text me when and where.” He starts to stand and grab the stack of books again when Mason stops him.

“You know,” he looks up at the chimera pensively, “You never answered Liam when he asked why you’re still here in Beacon Hills.”

Theo drops the books with a loud slam that has everyone turning to stare at them. “You know, maybe people should take a hint and stop asking!”

“You know they’ll stop when you give them an answer.”

“I don’t know!” Theo braces his hands on the edge of the table, “Maybe I just want to—” He cuts himself off

“What, be a part of the pack?” Corey asks skeptically.

With a deep breath, Theo picks up the stack of books again, starting to walk away. “Don’t worry, I know that ship sailed so long ago, it’s probably a rotting wreck home to a whole bunch of creepy bird women.”

***

He’d planned to drive immediately back to the Beacon Hills Preserve but somehow found himself turning toward the animal clinic instead. Pulling to a stop at the doors, he sees a dim light still shining through the glass, illuminating a ‘Help Wanted’ sign that he’s sure hadn’t been there the night he’d been hiding in the alleyway.

Without thinking, he jumps out of his truck, the bell above the door announcing his arrival as he pushes through. Deaton steps out of the back room almost immediately, looking at him expectantly.

“Doc, I… if you wanted, I mean, if you’d let me, I’d like to… work with you. Be your intern. Do the plant thing, or whatever. I’ll help out with the animals too, whatever you need, just—”

“Well, I suppose you’ll have another advantage over Scott.” Theo cocks his head, a little furrow appearing between his brows. “You won’t scare the cats.”

“Does that mean I got the job?”

“There is an interview portion.”

“Oh.” He swallows, “Yes, okay. I can come back or—”

“Why did you stay in Beacon Hills?”

Theo swallows again. “Honestly, I don’t have the answer yet. All I know is… I keep thinking about history. I don’t even know what that actually means. I just feel like I need to… do something here. Like something is missing that I need to find. I just… want to do something.”

“I can only offer minimum wage.”

They shake on it. And if Theo notices that the forms he filled up had the ‘address’ section noticeably missing, he doesn’t comment on it.

Chapter Text

“Just so you know, I do not like this idea at all.”

Theo blinks as Liam wrenches open his truck door, climbing into the passenger seat with an accusatory glare. “Hello there, yes I’m doing well. How about you?”

“Just drive, dammit.”

“Oh yes, I am enjoying this lovely weather we are having. Aren’t the rain clouds and drizzle just stunning in the weak afternoon sun?”

“Theo!”

The chimera rolls his eyes, putting the car out of park and pulling out of the high school car park. “Technically, it was Corey and Mason’s idea for us to go talk to Peter together. I wanted nothing to do with it.”

“Technically, you were the one who brought up Peter’s Bestiary.”

“So,” Theo says dryly, “You don’t think it’s a good idea for us to access one of the very few sources of esoteric information available to us, to be prepared against sirens that will likely be able to hypnotise and kill all of the men in Beacon Hills?”

Liam scoffs, kicking his legs up on the dashboard. “I didn’t say it was a bad idea, I just said I don’t like it.”

Theo shoots out a hand to slap the beta’s legs off. “Keep doing that, and you will think it’s a bad idea.”

Liam merely turns to look out the passenger side window, his back pointedly facing Theo.

Five minutes into the drive, he suddenly speaks up, “You didn’t have to say yes to coming with me.”

“And have you and the puppy pack keep me out of the loop? No, thank you. Besides, you’d probably end up getting completely manipulated into giving Peter much more than we actually need to.”

“Yeah, I guess it takes one sociopath to know another, doesn’t it?”

Theo breathes, forces himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel, and drives.

***

They turn into the car park of Derek’s building. The werewolf wasn’t in town, but according to Liam’s text message, Peter would let the boys into his city condo over his dead body. Then come back to life to maim them.

After parking, Theo unclips his seatbelt and starts to open the door when he realises Liam hasn’t moved an inch, turning to look questioningly at the younger boy. 

“I really don’t like the idea of going to Peter for help,” Liam admits.

“Of course not,” Theo says, keeping his tone as light as possible as he jumps out of the truck, “So why not let another amoral monster do the talking so your conscience stays clear? I wonder, which disturbs you more: that you’re stuck with me or stuck going to Peter for help.”

He slams the door a little bit harder than he intended, stalking away to the lobby without waiting or turning back. It’s not that he was looking for gratitude. No one had ever thanked him for the things he’d done, except Scott, but that was just Scott: too damn nice for his own good.

But… shouldn’t there be something different? Something other than just hatred and disdain by now? But was it fair to even expect that?

Finally, he hears Liam climb out of the truck.

“Look, Theo… I didn’t mean… I just…”

“It’s fine, Liam. I know what I am.”

Inconsequential.

***

“Well, well, well. Look what the pack dragged in.” Peter is leaning against the table in the centre of the room, spreading his arms wide open with a toothy smile on his face. 

“You have to admit,” Theo mutters to Liam, “Peter and I may both be monsters, but I was never that cheesy and dramatic.”

“So rude,” Peter clutches his chest, “You would me so deeply.”

Liam purses his lips, as though holding back a chuckle.

Theo ignores it, walking down the steps and stopping directly in front of the former Alpha. “What do you want?”

“Business so soon? No, no, that will never do. We must be civilised and keep to our social niceties. Where are those manners of yours? Lost, perhaps, in the forest you love to run around in at all hours of the day and night?”

Liam shoots Theo a confused look.

Breathe. Control.

Theo lifts a hand, mimicking holding a cup with his pinky finger outstretched, the tip encapsulated by a single claw. “Are you offering us tea and cakes?”

“Absolutely.” Peter steps back from the table, revealing an actual spread of food and drink. Tiny finger sandwiches, little cakes, crumpets and scones, and even three porcelain teapots and a box of tea bags. “I am nothing if not the perfect host.”

“This isn't even your house,” Liam says, skeptically eying the spread.

“I am its temporary caretaker, and thus, it behooves me to play good host.” Peter tilts his head, his smile widening slightly.

Theo feels his stomach rumble as the aroma from the table hits his nose, a gorgeous mixture of sweet and savoury and nothing like the crap he’d been filling his belly with for months. Shrugging, he sits.

“Theo!”

“Now,” Peter picks up the box of tea bags, and Theo turns to look up at him, both ignoring the seething werewolf behind them, “We have Oolong, Green, and Earl Grey, but I am particularly fond of the Darjeeling. It’s lovely with the fig jam.”

“No English Breakfast?”

“At this hour? What am I, a heathen?” Theo picks a bag at random. “Good choice, the Oolong is particularly earthy.” Theo meets Peter’s eyes, but only sees a mild smile, one he is not at all fooled by.

“We do not have time for this!” Liam finally erupts, “Peter, we need to kno—”

“What you need to know can be said while enjoying food and drink.” Peter pulls out the chair next to Theo, saying in a voice that brooks no argument, though his placid smile remains, “Sit. Eat.” 

Theo looks over his shoulder to level the beta with a look. Liam relents but not without grumbling under his breath.

“For you, young man,” Peter plucks out a tea bag from the box, “Camomile. It’ll do wonders for your nerves.”

More grumbling from Liam as Peter selects a green tea for himself before pouring hot water for them all, and finally taking a seat.

“Now, feast.” Theo and Liam just look at him. “Ugh, so pedantic.” He plucks a random sandwich off the table and eats it. “Are we good? No poison.”

The younger boys each pick up a cake, tentatively biting into it.

Liam lets out a sound of surprise, which has Theo glancing over at him. “What?” He says over a mouthful of raspberry sponge cake, “It’s good!”

He’s right, the food is good, and Theo has to fight not to devour everything in minutes.

Popping a particularly delicious mini quiche lorraine in his mouth, Theo asks Peter, “Did you make all of this?”

“Please, I have better things to do with my time and money. Like trying all the various high teas in the hotels in the city. This spread is from the Marriott. Not my favourite, but good enough.”

Something clicks in Theo’s head, but he keeps his face blank as they continue to eat, while Peter extols the virtues of each item on the table, encouraging them to try them all.

“So,” Peter begins, as they drain the dregs of their tea, clasping his hands in front of him, “Sirens. Beautiful creatures aren’t they?”

“Horrifying, actually.” Theo responds dryly.

“Did she have the torso and legs of a chicken? Like the paintings?”

“No, just scales, feathers and incredibly sharp talons.”

“Ah, so you got hurt. How long did it take to heal?”

“You know about the healing thing?” Liam blurts out.

“Of course. How long?”

“About four days.” Theo says evenly. To Liam’s credit, his body and heartbeat reveal nothing.

“Interesting.” Peter leans back, rubbing his chin.

“Have you met a siren?” Liam asks.

“No, but I’ve heard stories. Very little though, sorry to have to disappoint.”

“Like what?”

“For instance,” Peter leans forward, eyes lighting up, “Did you know that the lake used to always have a siren? They aren’t just simply associated with water. They are protectors of it, guardians of water and everything that lives around and within it.”

“Does that mean that all bodies of water have sirens?” Theo asks.

“No. They only call sacred waters home, places that need extra protections from both human and supernatural beings. This is what makes them incredibly rare.”

“Sacred waters?” Liam questions, “Like a lake near a Nemeton?”

“Exactly. The lake would give life and strength to the Nemeton, giving it vigour, strength, and longevity.”

“But the Nemeton is a stump,” Theo says sceptically. “It’s not exactly teeming with branches and leaves.”

“Not yet, and it hasn’t been for decades, but I believe a certain surrogate sacrifice awakened it, which would stand to reason that it’s slowly coming back to life.”

“So, the sirens are back in Beacon Hills to take care of the lake and by extension, the Nemeton?”

“Exactly.”

“But the Nemeton, it never ran out of power. It’s always been powerful.”

“Probably because ancient things like that are hard to destroy.”

“What,” Liam interrupts, “Is even the purpose of a Nemeton? Besides being a sacred place for druids?”

“Do you know the story of the first werewolf, Lycaon?”

Theo shakes his head no, while Liam nods yes. The chimera looks at the younger boy in surprise. “I told you,” he says with a shrug, “I like history. Figured I should know more about my new history.”

Theo’s heart stumbles over a beat, which has Peter sliding his eyes over to the chimera for a quick second, a move that Liam doesn’t catch. 

Then, he simply gestures with a sweeping hand, wordlessly asking Liam to tell the story. 

“Well, Lycaon was a Greek king, and he made the mistake of challenging the gods. Zeus, king of the gods, turned him and his people into wolves for revenge. But Lycaon remembered that the ancient druids had the knowledge of shifting forms, so he went to them and they taught him how to go between his human and wolf form. In return, they protected each other, wolves and druids.”

“A succinct, if rather dull, retelling.” Peter nods, “But yes, exactly. The power of Nemetons casts a shadow across the supernatural world that helps hide us from the mundane world, up to a certain range. It’s why supernatural creatures are drawn to areas where Nemetons are located.” 

“Would have been useful if the Nemeton came back to life faster, then. Help us deal with Monroe’s Army and all that.” Liam mumbles under his breath. 

“It’s not all-powerful,” Peter scoffs. “The Anuk-Ite was an ancient spirit. Singular, and so powerful it was able to break through most of the Nemeton’s influence. But look what happened once it was destroyed. Haven’t things gone back to normal?”

“Pretty much, I guess. People seem to think it was some mass hysteria or something.” Liam muses, before asking. “So werewolves are supposed to protect the Nemeton?”

“Indirectly. Druids are keepers and purveyors of knowledge. They don’t harness the power of Nemetons, but help the tree flourish and grow so it can continue to protect the supernatural world. If they did, we could get a little something you know as the Darach.

“In exchange for little tidbits of Druidic knowledge that keep them safe and healthy, werewolves are supposed to keep the area safe from darker influences that could impact the Nemeton.”

“So,” Theo ruminates, “Sirens do that for the lake? Anything that negatively influences the lake would also affect the Nemeton.”

“Exactly. They are both, in effect, the Druids and Werewolves of their waters.”

“How do you know all this?” Liam suddenly pipes up, suspicious, “Aren’t emissaries supposed to be known only to the Alpha?”

Peter smiles at them, slowly, smoothly. “I was an Alpha.”

“Not long enough to find an emissary. Or a pack.” Liam shoots back.

Peter’s smile grows brittle. “I may not have known who our emissary was when my sister was Alpha, but she did pass on what she learned from Deaton. She also liked to remind us that it was our job to protect Beacon Hills.”

“Too bad she didn’t know it was you Beacon Hills needed protection from.”

“I haven’t done anything nefarious in a very long time, unless you count forcing you to join me for tea.” Peter suddenly stands, causing Liam to tense up, “Speaking of which, refill?”

Peter adds more water to their teapots without waiting for an answer. “Now, back to the main problem at hand: sirens, are they actually a problem?”

Liam bristles, “They’re killing people!”

“For our benefit. The stronger the siren and the lake, the more protection we’ll get from the Nemeton.”

“Killing can’t be the only way!”

“Really?” Peter idly dunks his tea bag in his pot. “Your pack killed the Anuk-Ite and the Beast of Gévaudan. You killed Ghost Riders. You even literally put our dear chimera here in the ground. Your little moral compass seems like it can malfunction when it needs to. Why not now? Why not let the siren kill a few people, just enough to power the Nemeton a little more and keep us all safe? Do you want a repeat of Monroe’s Army?”

“No! But—”

“Have the sirens killed anyone else besides the three joggers?”

“Not yet bu—”

“You don’t know if there’ll be a yet. It could be never. Maybe they’re just as foolish as you and your little Scott McCall, and will only do what they need to do.”

“If they were like Scott,” Theo says quietly, interrupting Liam’s latest outburst, “They wouldn’t kill at all.”

“Except when it suits them. When it suits Scott. Need I remind you again of the Anuk-Ite and the Ghost Riders? What happened to you?”

“We didn’t kill Theo,” Liam says hotly, “It wasn’t death.”

“Well, it certainly felt like it.” Theo mutters, trying desperately not to shake when he suddenly hears whispers of his name in his mind.

“It wasn’t! I don’t know exactly what it was, some prison or something. But we knew we weren’t killing you.”

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here, Theo thinks to himself. 

“Fine,” Peter snaps, “What about the rest of them?”

“The Anuk-Ite wasn’t human. You said yourself it was a spirit and a fucking nasty one. Even the Ghost Riders weren’t people anymore.”

“I’ve said this before to Scott, and I’m saying it to you now, Liam: One day, you won’t be so lucky. One day you’ll have to have blood on your hands, and you’ll have to do it deliberately to protect the people around you. You might as well start preparing for it now.”

“Yeah, you have said that before. You said to Scott that he won’t always be so lucky. But you know what? It’s worked so far. Because Scott cares. The pack cares. They keep trying, and they find a way. Because there’s always another way.”

“You know what you sound like? The brainwashed lackey of a cult. No wonder Scott was happy to have you running around like a ship without a captain. You’ve been completely indoctrinated.”

Liam opens his mouth, face red with anger, glowing yellow eyes flashing, but Theo stills him with a hand on his arm.

“Peter, you know you’re not planning on getting your hands dirty. You can go enjoy your tea, your travelling, and whatever new expensive trinket you need to fill the void in your life. Whatever Liam and the puppy pack plan to do with the sirens, it’s their problem. Not yours.”

Peter’s eyes flash blue, so quickly that Theo is almost sure he imagined it. But the former Alpha settles back into his seat, observing Theo for a long moment. “Puppy pack? I like it. It suits them.”

“Now, sirens. What else do you know?”

“Like I said, remarkably little. I never even bothered to look them up in the Bestiary.”

“Then how did you know that they’re protectors of sacred waters?”

“My grandfather.”

“You have a grandfather?” Liam exclaims.

“No, I emerged fully formed from a cave. Of course, I have a grandfather! He was the Alpha before Talia, back when the siren was still protecting the lake. And that’s all he told us: there was a lake, there was a siren guarding it, and not to go near the lake unless we wanted a very quick, painful death or a very slow, painful death.”

“What kind of power does the lake have?”

“Do I look like a walking Bestiary?”

“No, you look like someone who has a Bestiary.” Theo leans forward, mimicking Peter’s earlier pose with clasped, expectant hands. “So tell us what you want for it.”

Peter smiles. “The puppies were smart to have you come. Mason’s idea?”

“And Corey’s.” Liam adds.

“Ah, it seems intelligence can rub off after all. There’s hope for you yet, Liam. Alright, what do you have to offer?” 

Theo reaches out to grasp Liam’s thigh before he can open his mouth and ruin it all, while raising a pointed eyebrow at the former Alpha.

“Can’t blame me for trying. I want Malia.”

Before Theo can respond, Liam blurts out, “You can’t. She’s at uni. And you can’t.”

“After everything I did to keep Malia safe, you think I want to kill her? Let me be specific: I want Malia to call me. Once a week. And to visit when she’s in town. Also, once a week.”

“For tea?” Theo asks.

“Malia strikes me as more of a ‘run in the forest and hunt deer’ girl, don’t you think?”

Theo turns to Liam, who knows the coyote best between the two of them.

“Fine, I’ll ta—”

Alright, maybe not.

“Yes to the calls.” Theo interrupts. “No to the visits. But we will let her know of your er… wish to have a hunting party with her or whatever.”

“Lovely. I’ll plan a whole soirée.” Peter throws a small item at Theo so suddenly that it seems like it had appeared out of nowhere. When he looks in his hand, he realises it’s a USB drive. “Have fun. All the relevant pages are in Ancient Greek.”

The boys push out their chairs to stand when Peter suddenly speaks, “Wait.”

“What, are you going to whip out dinner or something?” Theo says, glancing down at the table, which still has a ton of food on it.

Peter suddenly throws a couple of takeaway boxes at them, boxes that also seemed to appear out of thin air. “Please. I have a date. Take the food, we won’t need it.”

Both boys look at each other with confused frowns, but Theo, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if it was in the form of a suspicious werewolf, helps himself. When Liam declines with a murmur about not wanting to spoil his dinner, Theo takes his box too, emptying the table completely.

When Liam eyes him, Theo simply says, “Do you know how expensive high tea is?”

They’re both almost to the door when Peter speaks up again. “One more thing.”

“I fucking knew it.” Liam mutters, turning back to glare at the older man, arms crossed.

“Derek will meet you both in Mexico in two days.”

“What?”

“We may not know much about the sirens. But the Calavera family does.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

The elevator doors closed to the sound of Peter calling out behind them. “You’re welcome!”

***

“I think Peter is secretly a magician.”

“Of course he’d use his millions to learn magic tricks.”

***

Theo doesn’t offer Liam a ride back to wherever he needs to go, which is just as well, since Mason and Corey are already downstairs waiting. A quick chat between the four of them reveals that Argent had only just responded without sounding at all worried, due to the paraphrased message Theo had suggested (the couple had looked a little put out at having to reveal that little gem of information; Theo had preened).

Unfortunately, the only copy of the Argent Bestiary was at the Argent stronghold, and Melissa had the keys, which they were now going to collect.

The couple promised to work on both the Bestiaries while Theo and Liam head to Mexico, which had Theo predictably protesting his involvement. A growl and an annoyed but embarrassed confession of ‘I can’t drive,’ from Liam has Theo snapping a quick ‘Fine. Text me,’ before he heads back to his truck.

Before he gets in, he hears Liam say one more thing. “You were right. Theo really knew how to talk to Peter.”

***

The drive back to the preserve is long and dark, the perfect atmosphere for brooding.

Theo knows the similarities between himself and Peter. The single-minded drive for power, an instinct to protect themselves first and foremost, a certain way with words and people. He’s never deluded himself about their parallels. But somehow the thing that makes him most uncomfortable with the comparison is one simple echo.

Loneliness.

Chapter Text

A night of fitful sleep leaves Theo restless and raw in the morning, his gaze continually turning to the direction of the lake, though he forces his feet to walk the other way. Something in him aches for the solace and serenity he’d found there, sensations he had little familiarity with, but longed for deeply.

Mason’s theory about a siren’s birth has gotten under his skin, an insistent whisper to make the journey, even as logic tries to intervene. Wasn’t there a chance it would be safe? After all, hadn’t the attack happened at night? If there’s truth to any of it, this could be his chance to find something — from a safe distance, of course.

Before he can convince himself otherwise —not that he’s really trying— he makes his decision. Running back to his truck, Theo shoves his earphones in as deep as they'll go, cranking the volume to a punishing level. 

Also, he hadn’t cleaned his ears in ages. Maybe ear wax would function like the wax in Odysseus’ story.

It’s just for a quick look around, he convinces himself, to see if the sirens had left any dark trace of themselves behind. 

Not to breathe in the crisp air and feel the gentle caress of sunlight as he stands motionless between twin mirrors of blue.

The Dread Doctors had built Theo for precision, every sense sharpened into a weapon. In the months since, he’s learned to shape them into tools for a new purpose: survival. Being forced to not rely on his enhanced hearing leaves him feeling exposed, more vulnerable than usual. Every small movement in the bushes has his muscles tensing, every shadow between the trees a place for something nefarious to hide.

But Theo keeps going, flashing his golden eyes to find heat signatures, even sniffing the air with an almost obsessive focus as he creeps closer to the lake. He is all tension and suspicion, though if anyone saw him now, he’d probably look like some ridiculous cartoon character chasing the scent of a pie cooling on a windowsill.

Then he sees it: an azure blue mirror, encircled protectively by verdant foliage, flanked by gentle slopes that rise like green guardians on either side of the lake, standing guard over the water. Ripples, small and slow, break the still surface of the water every few moments, reflecting little golden pinpricks made of pure sunlight.

He tilts his head up to the sky, squinting against the light, wanting to take all the wide expanse into him. An unblemished world of blue and brilliance. 

The scene is as breathtaking as he remembered — a soothing balm on a fractured soul, flaxen threads of luminescence weaving through dark and empty cracks.

The urge comes over him slowly, a need like a pressure in his chest, a desperation to hear the whispers of the trees, the rhythm of gentle lapping waters on the shore, the soft hum of tiny wings beating in earnest.

His hands are slowly rising towards his ears when he smells them.

Nolan and Alec.

Hiding behind a tree, Theo peeks out, seeing the young boys near the water’s edge, with what looked like a stick jutting out from each of their ears. He watches as they gesticulate wildly at each other, furiously mouthing words between them.

It’s not at all hard for Theo to sneak up behind them, yank out a stick from each boy, and hiss in a near-whisper, “What on earth are you doing here?!”

They jump, turning around with hands on their ears, mouths clenched in pain or a bid to stifle a cry. Hopefully both.

Theo pulls out his earphones, and the sudden rush of sound hits him like a wave, even as the forest and lake hum around them with a natural, quiet drone.

“Well?” He demands, glaring at both of them.

“You’re Theo, right?” Alec asks.

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“Neither is that,” the new werewolf responds, fixing him with a defiant but cautious look.

“We just wanted to see the lake. See if we could learn anything new.” Nolan speaks up nervously. 

Theo remembered Nolan well: the quiet, jittery boy who seemed uncomfortable in his own skin, in his own existence. There’s still a skittishness to him, a thrum along a body that can’t quite seem to sit still. But his ever-present unease was gone, like his inner turmoil had finally boiled over and found a state in which to settle.

“And put yourself at risk to the sirens?” Theo hisses again.

“You’re here,” Alec says stubbornly, and Theo turns to study him, a mess of curly dark brown hair, large brown eyes, and a firm, rigid stance. The boy shifts nervously under Theo’s scrutiny, but keeps his brave facade up.

“And you chose, what, wax as your only defence?” Theo waves the two sticks in his hand, only for his eyes to settle on the blobs of pale, purple wax, crusted over with a disgusting yellow substance and little tufts of hair.

“Gah!” He flings them away as hard as he can, and they hit a nearby tree with a soft thump, but not before a weak scent of lavender hits his nose.

He whirls back to the two boys. “Candle wax? Really?”

“The lavender helps Nolan sleep.” Alec points out helpfully, while Nolan shrugs sheepishly, pulling out the last stick with a soft yelp. “We probably didn’t think it through, though. This shit hurts.” Alec adds as he follows Nolan’s lead.

The boys are so guileless, so earnestly well-intentioned in their blundering, they remind him of another pair of friends.

“Ya think?” Theo snaps with a roll of his eyes.

“Well, the ear candling wax didn’t work! It didn’t plug up our ears at all. Just made it feel all weird and warm.”

Theo blinks. “Ear candling wax?”

“Yeah, it’s this long candle you stick in your ear and light up.” Alec explains, “We thought it was wax that’s safe for ears, but turns out it’s supposed to pull out all the gross shit in your ear.”

“Judging by the state of your scented blobs of filth, it did nothing.” 

“And it would have helped if someone had read the instructions before buying the damn thing. Or even before jamming it in our ears.” Alec glares at Nolan, who just shrugs again.

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way,” Theo crosses his arms, “Did you find anything useful?”

“Did you?”

Theo slips into his favourite intimidation look with a practiced ease — head tilted just enough to seem unimpressed, a brow raised in an imperious arc, lips pressed into a hard, unyielding line.

It works. The boys shrink slightly before him, exchanging glances.

“Not really,” Alec confesses, “It just looks like a lake in a forest.”

“A pretty one, like you told the pack,” Nolan adds, “But yeah just a normal lake.”

Theo scans the scenery in front of him, taking in the water and trees, quietly comparing the scene to the night of the attack, as the boys shift restlessly in front of him. The only difference is the occasional ripple breaking the surface of the lake, more frequent now than during the night. Probably just fish or insects stirring with the light of the sun. Nothing unusual.

But it’s far more than just pretty.

“No,” He finally tells them, “It’s exactly the same. It’s strange, I thought it would be different after the three joggers.”

“Is that why you came here?”

“Yeah.” Theo admits, “Looks like it was a waste of time though.”

“What about the house?”

“The house?”

“It’s more like a ruin, to be honest.”

At Theo’s confused look, the boys set off, leading him around a small bend to an outcropping near the lake’s edge. Perched on rickety stilts over the water were the remains of a small wooden house. It’s in a sorry state, with shattered windows, a sagging roof, more than a few planks missing from the walls, with many more consumed by dead remains of moss and ivy.

“See, it’s right there! Did you see…”

Alec's words fade to background noise as Theo flashes his eyes to catch any heat signatures. He sweeps his gaze over the space when a tendril of frost curls up his spine, prickling his skin and raising the hairs on his arms. The house is cold, too still and silent, devoid of any sign of life, the air recoiling from its gloom. Even the overgrowth that normally fights to claim any space as their own seemed to shrink away, lest they get too close and join the rotting remains of wood and plants amongst the walls.

“We should go,” Theo says quietly, stopping Alec short.

“Why? What do you see?”

“Nothing.” Therein lay the issue.

“Isn’t that… good?”

“It should be, but it doesn’t feel like it.”

Theo firmly places a hand on each of the boy’s arms as Alec opens his mouth, dragging them away to the sounds of the young werewolf’s protests. Nolan willingly lets himself be yanked further away from the lake and the empty house, though his eyes remain fixed on the horizon they leave behind.

***

“Oh, good, you have a ride!” Alec says with glee as they reach Theo’s truck. “My legs are killing me.”

Theo frowns. “How did you get so deep in the forest?”

Nolan shrugs. “We walked.”

“More like hiked. That was probably the worst three hours of my life.” Alec punctuates his words with a groan, bending down to massage his calves. 

“I’m sure the hike back will be the real worst three hours of your life. Or four.” Theo dismisses them, reaching for his keys.

“Wait! You’re not going to give us a ride?”

“Firstly, you two are the ones who came here without any thought of how you’d get back after such a long walk —excuse me— excruciatingly painful hike. Secondly, do you really want to be in an enclosed space with me?”

Alec purses his lips, surveying the chimera, a deliberate perusal from head to toe. “I think I could take you.”

Theo has to stifle a laugh, the statement reminding him so much of Liam. Instead, he grins at the boys, letting his fangs slide out a touch, while golden yellow eyes flash meaningfully.

“You just don’t really seem all that scary.”

Theo fully bares his fangs.

“I mean, you literally just dragged us away from a boring lake and an empty house, where literally nothing was happening. You’re not going to murder us.”

Nolan interrupts before Theo can open his mouth. “Also, if you kill us, the pack will know it’s you.”

“Will they?” Theo widens his smile menacingly. “The pack obviously doesn't know you’re here. You’re at the lake. It could have been the sirens.”

“The sirens haven’t left any bodies.” Alec scoffs.

“I could throw your cold, dead bodies in the lake.”

“You won’t. You came here to see what’s going on, like us, and you would have told the pack if you found anything. We know about your weird quid pro quo thing.”

Theo sheathes his fangs, returning his eyes to their normal hazel-green. “That still doesn’t mean I’m letting you into my truck.”

“Please!” Alec whines. “We’re sooo tired!”

Theo rolls his eyes, but unlocks the truck with a press of a button. “Fine, but only because if I leave you here, I’m still going to be able to hear you moaning all the way out of the forest.”

He’d probably also never hear the end of it from Liam if he just left them here, anyway. Not that it hadn’t been tempting.

“Yay!” Alec immediately yanks open the back door, jumping in, while Nolan just gives Theo an odd look before scrambling in behind his friend.

“What am I, Uber chimera?” Theo says dryly as he climbs into the driver’s seat.

“Hey,” Alec grabs Theo’s duffle bag from the back, tossing it artlessly into the front seat, “You won’t tell the pack we came here, right?”

“Let me guess this straight,” Theo starts the engine, “You want me to be your ride and you want me to lie to your pack?”

“It’s not a lie if they don’t ask. Besides, nothing happened, so it’s not like you have anything to tell them. I don’t understand why you even dragged us away. Anyway, what kind of chimera are you? When I asked Stiles he just said you’re an asshole chimera. Like, did you really live in the sewers with the Dread Doctors? Did they talk to you at all? And what about…”

Theo turns up the radio, drowning out Alec’s incessant questions as best he can, asking himself how and why had suddenly become a goddamn babysitter.

***

“I found them by the lake.” Theo announces to Liam as the beta approaches his truck from where he’d parked outside his house, their planned meeting point for their road trip to Mexico. 

“Dude!” Alec whines, “Why!”

He turns to look at them over his shoulder. “Next time, bribe me. Get out.”

“What were you doing there?” Liam demands of the boys as they climb out, equally chastened looks on their faces.

“We wanted to do something. You guys weren’t letting us help at all!” The irony isn’t lost on Theo, Liam now having to play the role of responsible older wolf to the younger reckless boy.

“Mason and Corey asked you to help translate the Bestiaries!”

“But that’s so boring! And hard. Who even reads Greek anymore?”

“Probably the Greeks.” Theo intones wryly.

“And actually,” Nolan adds helpfully, “It’s in Ancient Greek.”

“Guys!” Liam interrupts, exasperation written on his face, “If you want to help, help. Don't go looking for a lake where you could be hypnotised and killed.”

“But nothing happened!” Alec protests.

“Well,” Nolan says quietly, “We were probably lucky nothing happened. And we had the wax.”

“You guys used ear candling wax?” Liam brightens, “I found that at the store, was wondering if it would—”

“No!” The younger boys both yell.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Hansel and Gretel,” Theo says firmly as he tosses his duffel bag into the back. “If I hadn’t been there, you would have gone into that horrible house, and been made into some sea witch's dinner or something.”

“We wouldn’t have gone in!”

“You were literally arguing with me about whether to go in or not when Theo found us.” Nolan says, unconvinced.

“Sea witch?” Liam asks suspiciously, “Is Ursula real?”

“At this point, who even knows.” Theo mutters while punching in their Mexican destination into his phone’s maps app.

“Back up, though, what horrible house? Theo, you didn’t mention a house before.”

“That’s because I didn’t see it.”

“How?” Alec accused, “It was right there.”

“Sorry, I was a bit too preoccupied with getting hypnotised and mauled by a creepy bird woman.” Theo snaps, “And then guess what? I got knocked out, also by the creepy bird woman.”

“The house?” Liam asks again before Alec can continue.

“It was more of a ruin, really.” Nolan explains, describing what they’d found, finishing off with how Theo had suddenly dragged them off.

“The house was… strange,” Theo says pensively, “It looked completely empty to me, but it felt like there was… a presence or something. Gave me the heebie jeebies.”

The three younger members of the McCall pack give him a look. “‘Heebie jeebies’?” Liam mocks.

“What? It was creepy!”

“Did you two sense anything?” The boys shake their heads, no.

“Of course not,” Theo scoffs, “One’s a human, one’s a baby werewolf barely out of diapers.”

“Hey! We were trying to help!”

“So was Theo,” Liam responds firmly, causing the chimera to look at him in surprise. “What? That’s why you went right? You got tired of waiting around for something to happen. It was a dumb idea, but you wanted to do something.”

“Well,” Theo says after an uncomfortable pause, “Why do the boys get concerned Liam and I get ‘yes, Theo, go put yourself in more danger for us’ Liam?”

“I did say it was a dumb idea.”

“Yeah, whatever, we need to get going.”

“Mexico?” Alec asks eagerly as Liam starts to load the back seat with his bag. “Can we—”

“No!” The older boys both yell.

“Fine.”

“Is there anything we can do?” Nolan asks tentatively, “I don’t really like waiting around, either.”

“Get a subscription to Rosetta Stone and help Mason and Corey with the Bestiary.”

“Wait,” Theo interrupts, rubbing a hand across his jaw thoughtfully. “Did Parrish or Stilinski find any connection between the three missing joggers?”

Liam shakes his head. “Not at all, besides that they liked to jog in the preserve. They didn’t even use the same paths. We think it might have been a random attack.”

“They could still have been targeted. Finding a pattern between the three is the best way to figure out what the sirens are planning. Has anyone checked if other people were jogging out there that night?”

“Well, Parrish said they put out a call for other joggers to come forward if they saw anything, but no one came in.” Liam reluctantly admits.

“Right, but if there were other people out there on the same paths as the three missing joggers, and they somehow survived, that would mean those three joggers were targeted. We should find out who else was there that night.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” Liam grumbles, but turns to the two youngest boys. “Go to Parrish and Stilinski, help them with what Theo suggested.”

“Yes! Okay! We can do that!” Without any more encouragement, the boys rush off, with nary a word of farewell.

“That was smart.” Liam acknowledges begrudgingly as the chimera pulls out onto the road.

“Yeah, well, I’ve been told I think like a villain.”

***

The first twenty minutes of the drive are silent, save for the occasional direction from the GPS.

Theo knows silences, knows how to wield them like weapons, but even he can’t handle a completely tense and quiet road trip.

“So, nothing to say abo—”

“Will you at least put o—”

The boys cut themselves off, letting the awkward moment hang between them, until Liam gestures. “You go.”

“I was just going to say, no complaints about this plan? The road trip?”

“No,” Liam zips up his jacket as a chill drifts through the truck, “We need information, and Derek’s going to be there as backup. And I like road trips.”

“You do?” Theo asks skeptically.

“Yeah, adventure in the great wide somewhere, and all that.”

“Are you quoting Beauty and The Beast to me right now?”

“It’s my favourite Disney movie,” Liam grumbles as Theo barks out a short laugh. “What about you?”

“Beauty and The Beast? Nah, I was always more of a Tarzan kid.”

“No,” Liam rolls his eyes, “Road trips. Do you like them?”

“Road trips are for masochists and people who feel comfortable shitting in shitty gas station toilets.” Theo states, the words come from out of nowhere, like he’s reciting something he’s heard before, a low rumble in a man’s voice. It nags at him, like a word he can’t remember but is right on the tip of his tongue.

Liam’s voice jolts him back to the present. “That’s an… opinion.”

“Tell me I’m wrong. I mean, sitting for so long your ass goes numb, going in circles because your phone connection sucks so the GPS doesn’t work properly, shitty car games that make you want to rip your ears out.”

“Sounds like you’ve taken a lot of road trips. Bad ones”

“No. Never.” Theo can’t remember ever taking a road trip, but all those thoughts… 

“Really?” Liam looks over at Theo.

“Yeah. For exactly the reasons I just stated.”

Yet, he can still almost hear that man’s voice, espousing all the faults of a road trip, and can almost imagine a long, dark road bordered by trees, just like the one they were driving on.

“So,” Theo clears his throat, “What were you gonna say?”

“Huh?”

“Before you brought up Disney movies. What were you gonna say?”

“Oh, I wanted to ask if we could play some music. It’s a long drive to the motel.”

“Yeah, sure.” Theo jabs at his phone, opening up Spotify, before queuing up a random playlist.

“I wanted to be the DJ.” The beta whines, shoving his phone onto the dashboard with a huff.

“My truck, my rules.”

The boys are quiet, Liam busying himself on his phone while Theo keeps his eyes on the road. 

Put freshness back into your life with HelloFresh! Quick and easy meals with—

“Have you heard of Spotify Premium?” Liam scoffs.

“What?” Theo tosses Liam a glare before looking back to the road. “Ads are informative. What if there’s something I need and I don’t know where to get it? Grocery deliveries could—”

Bombas socks, where there’s a foot, there’s a sock.

“Socks are useful!”

Give your boys the love they deserve, with Manscaped!! Take your balls from bush to bald with—

Theo rips out the aux cord and tosses it to Liam, as the beta erupts with laughter. “Play your rich boy shit and shut up.”

Liam, predictably, starts with the Beauty and the Beast soundtrack.

***

As the last refrain of Be Our Guest finally faded (in Theo’s opinion, arguably the most annoying Disney song out there), Liam suddenly spoke up. “Do you think the Beast was based on the Beast of Gévaudan?”

“A cartoon for children about seeing past appearances and the power of love?” Theo replies dryly, “I highly doubt so.”

“No, think about it. He’s a man who gets turned into a monster, right? And it’s set in France, and a girl is the only one who can save him!”

“Yeah, with her love. I don’t think Marie-Jeanne loved her brother anymore by the time she killed him.”

“You have to admit there are similarities.”

“No, I definitely do not.” 

“Wait,” Liam grabs his phone, typing furiously, “I’ll prove it. See, the original French fairy tale was written in 1740, while the Beast was active in— never mind.”

Theo grins. “Not everything is going to be connected to the supernatural, you know. You sound like Mason.”

“Whatever. But you know what, actua—”

Theo cuts Liam off before he can come up with another roundabout, whacky theory. “Why do you like Beauty and the Beast so much anyway? Isn’t it kinda messed up that a girl is literally kidnapped and falls in love because of Stockholm Syndrome?”

“It’s not Stockholm Syndrome, not really.” Liam protests.

“She was imprisoned. She only had him and creepy talking furniture for company. She probably went insane and clung onto the first thing that was nice to her.”

“The furniture was charming and you know it.” Liam declares hotly, so incensed by animated 2D characters that Theo wants to laugh.

“Chip the baby cup had an actual chip!” Theo says with mock, but not entirely mocking, horror, “What does that even mean? Did he only have like, half his skull or something?”

“The point,” Liam continues loudly, “Is that she was nice to him first!”

“I have no idea what you’re getting at.”

“He was turned into a monster because he was a terrible person, and before Belle, he embraced that part of him. You say that she fell in love because he was nice to her, but he had a choice to just continue being horrible. He decides to overcome his nature and grow as a person, because he was finally shown kindness from someone who had no obligation to be nice to him! Like you said, he imprisoned her, and everyone else was stuck with him ‘cause of the curse. She gave him a chance, and he realised that he can be more than he thinks he is, so he—”

Liam cuts himself off, wide eyes fixed on Theo’s white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel. 

Theo doesn’t know what it is about Liam. If it were Stiles saying the same things, he doesn’t think he would even come close to getting this agitated. 

Theo can already predict how the hypothetical conversation would play out: First, Theo would call out the contradiction, then Stiles would counter with the fact that Theo had murdered Scott and many others, which is infinitely worse than kidnapping. Theo would remind Stiles that the pack were the ones who let him go free, even after all that happened, but then Stiles would bring up that Theo had murdered his sister. At nine. The final nail in the coffin, a sociopath right from the start. It’s simply always been in Theo’s nature to be a monster.

And then Theo would laugh, and leave Stiles with a cutting remark about not relying on monsters to be their guard dogs.

But with Liam, it’s different. Something that always manages to get the best of his emotions. He knows all the blood, sweat, and tears he’s shed mean nothing to the pack, he does, he really does, but can’t Liam can’t recognise his hypocrisy?

“Theo,” Liam begins hesitantly, “I should—”

“Why are you doing this.” Theo asks flatly, taking deep breaths to slow down his racing heartbeat.

“I do—”

“We don’t have to talk. We don’t have to bond over Disney songs and shit. I couldn't care less what your favourite childhood movie was. And I know you don’t give a fuck about mine either, so let’s just sit in silence. You can take a nap. Play with your phone. Whatever you want. Just shut up so we can get this over with.”

“That’s not—”

“No! Enough!” Theo suddenly swerves them off the road, slamming the brakes, not caring where they are. “Just let me do what I’m here for: be your ride, be the bait, be the one who gets shot when the Calaveras attack so you and Derek can get away.”

“We’re not—”

“Liam! Stop! You don’t need to pretend you care about any part of me! I’ll do what you asked me to. I am doing it.”

“Fine,” Liam finally snaps, his anger rising to meet Theo’s. “You don’t wanna talk? Fine. I just thought, since we’d be together for three days, I could make things just a little less tense and awkward, but if you want me to ju—”

“Oh, of course!” Theo scoffs, “Let’s all do what Liam wants, let’s all make sure the little beta is comfortable, let’s just—”

“You know what? I was going to apologise!”

“You were not. You were patronising me. A fucking beast and kidnapper gets to be forgiven and loved, but not me. Not the real monster, not the—”

“You don’t know what goes on in my head!” snarls the beta, face flushed with rage.

“Really?” A grim snarl overtakes Theo’s face, bitter and twisted, “You weren’t thinking about punching me?”

“I’m always thinking about punching you!”

“Yeah see th—”

“Because you are a general pain in the ass! Not because you’re a monster!”

That leaves Theo speechless, both of them glaring breathlessly at each other.

Liam clutches a hand to his heart, taking deep breaths, muttering his mantra to himself: The Sun. The Moon. The Truth.

“You were.” Liam says quietly, “You were a monster.”

Theo flinches, and Liam hurries to go on before the chimera can start up again. “But you’re not now, at least not lately. And no one really knows why you’re even here, why you’re helping us, but I—”

“That’s beca—”

“It’s my turn to speak!” Liam’s eyes flash golden yellow. “I don’t know why you’re doing any of it, but even I know that it’s more than just to save yourself. If that was really your number one goal, you wouldn’t be here with me, going to meet one of the biggest hunter families in the country. You wouldn’t even be in Beacon Hills.

“I’m not saying I trust you, or that any one of the pack does either. I don’t think you’re even doing it to gain our trust; you’re smart enough to know that won’t work. But it seems like you just… want to do something. And I’m sorry if that makes you feel like we’re using you, but you should know you have a choice in this, and that you have had a choice for a while now. So if you want to do something, then… we can do it together.”

The boys watch each other warily for a long time, cars going by flashing their high beams or beeping at them, but they simply sit and breathe, their heart rates slowly dropping back to normal.

“You talked to Scott, didn’t you.”

“No, I—” Theo cuts his eyes at Liam, “Yeah, yeah, I did. He made me feel kinda stupid for not seeing all of this earlier. But it’s true, isn’t it? You’re not doing this to be in the pack. You’re doing this for some other reason.”

“Yeah.”

Liam doesn’t probe, employing some tact for once, and Theo is grateful. He doesn’t have an answer, anyway. 

“When you were talking about the Beast —I mean the cartoon one— was that your roundabout way of trying to apologise?”

“No, I swear. I was just talking about the show, and then I realised what I was saying and— I was planning to apologise before I even got in the car. I thought us, I don’t know, talking a bit would have made it easier, but I guess I was wrong. What I said about you being a sociopath the other day, it wasn’t right. And I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s true, though. We’re alike, Peter and I.” Theo says it placidly, a statement of fact.

“Yeah, maybe, in some ways. But look at him: he spends his time eating fucking mini blueberry tarts and watercress sandwiches. He could have asked us for anything, but he wants to spend time with Malia. He’s lost his edge, he’s stopped caring about all the status and power.”

“So you trust Peter now?”

“God no. But!” Liam glares as Theo opens his mouth. “We recognise the ways he’s changed, and that he deserves to move forward on his own path. Until he fucks up again.”

“You seriously sound like Scott.”

“That’s not a bad thing, I’m taking it as a compliment.”

“You do sound like Scott, but I know the apology is from you, so… thanks.”

The boys sit, awkwardly looking anywhere except at each other.

“I thought that—”

“Maybe you ca—”

“You go.” Liam nods at Theo.

“I was just going to say that you should start the music again.”

“Oh, cool, I was going to say that too. Tarzan soundtrack?”

“Sure.”

Theo starts the engine again, pulling back onto the road.

Maybe this would have been a good time for Theo to apologise. At first, when he came back, he didn’t want to. Wherever he’d been, he’d been paying his penance to Tara, and being back meant paying his penance to the pack, letting them order him around. The situation may have changed, somehow, but he still didn’t want to apologise.

They wouldn’t have believed him anyway.

Chapter Text

By the time Theo and Liam pull into the driveway of the motel where they were meant to meet Derek, it was late at night. Or rather, really early in the morning.

“This is the place, isn’t it?” Liam asks, looking around the deserted car park with trepidation.

“You’re the one who gave me the address.”

“You’re the one who said road trips make your GPS wonky!”

“My bars are full, this is the place.”

“Then where is he? Do you think he fell asleep waiti—”

“Boys.” 

They jump — Liam recoiling so hard that he smacks his head on the roof of the truck with an audible thump.

Whipping their heads to the left, they see a flash of blue eyes: Derek, motionless in the shadow of a tree, arms crossed against his chest.

“Dude,” Liam complains, rubbing the top of his head. “Do you spend all your free time practicing power stances in the dark just to scare us?”

“Natural talent.”

The younger boys climb out of the truck, grabbing their bags as they go.

“Here,” Derek tosses them a keycard. “Be ready to leave by ten.”

Liam frowns down at the card in his hand. “This is one card.”

“Yes.”

“One card, singular.”

“Yes.”

“One room, singular.”

“Yes.”

“One room, sing—”

“Go to bed, guys.”

“One bed,” Liam whispers, horrified, “Singular?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Two beds, plural. Jesus.”

“But just one roo—”

“Liam, I swear to any gods listening right now,” Theo rubs a hand over his face tiredly, the rough stubble scratchy against his palm, “I will kill you if you say singular one more time.”

“And,” Derek adds, “I don’t recall asking you to pay for the room. So, if you wanna bitch about it, get your own room.”

“I’d like to point out,” Theo cuts in, “That I didn’t complain.”

“Yes, I know how hard that is for you. See you both in the morning.”

Liam just gapes at the key in his hand, until Theo, having had enough, snatches it out of his hand and stalks off to find their room. “Liam, you slept in the car, and I didn’t kill you. I’m not going to kill you in your sleep.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep.” The beta mumbles, but follows the chimera anyway.

***

When Theo steps out of the shower, Liam is already dead to the world, mouth agape, making little wheezing noises.

Theo shakes his head, but grabs the spare keycard and slips out of the room, heading to his truck. He climbs into the backseat, tucks his blanket around him, and tries not to fall asleep.

It doesn’t work.

***

Theo jolts awake ten minutes before his alarm rings, shaking off the image of him transforming into The Beast and mauling Liam to death in front of Derek’s dismembered body. 

The sharp and too familiar morning scent of blood greets him, and he looks down to find his claws embedded in his palms.

“Fuck.” 

Jumping out, he heads to the room, scrubs the bloodstains as best as he can, cleans up, then slips back out as Liam starts to stir. By the time he’s back at the room with coffee, some dubious pastries the motel had at the front desk, and a stomach already full with two coffees, Liam is awake, packing his things.

“Oh, there you are. Is that for us?”

Theo nods, moving to pack his bag.

***

Derek turns off the radio for the third time, fixing the beta next to him with a glare. “Liam, enough.”

“You won’t let me talk, you won’t let me play music, what do you expect me to do!”

“Sit and be quiet.”

Theo grins from the backseat. 

“But it’s a road trip!”

“Road trips can be done in silence.”

“Well, they shouldn’t. Are you seriously telling me you drove up here, at night, alone, without listening to something to keep you awake?”

“Probably listens to all the angsty voices in his head.” Theo chimes in. “You should try it, Liam. I think you’ll be good at it.”

“Trust me, Liam,” Derek says, both he and the beta choosing to ignore Theo, which he thought was a little insulting considering it was pretty witty, “What I listen to, you won’t enjoy.”

“Try me.”

Derek glances over at Liam for a moment before hitting play on his phone.

Now, John Wayne Gacy was also known as the “Killer Clown”, due to his public performances as a clown. To date, only 28 of his victims have been iden—

“Serial killers?” Liam gapes, “You’re alone, driving on a dark road in the middle of the night, and you choose serial killers to keep you company?”

“The sun is up. And it’s called true crime and is a very popular genre.”

“So are sports podcasts!”

“Your choices are silence or serial killers.”

“Fine,” Liam grumbles, reaching over to click play.

“Wait,” Theo jumps in, “Can you at least pick another episode? I mean, serial killers, sure, but a clown?” He shudders.

Derek and Liam exchange bemused looks.

“If only Scott had known about you and clowns earlier,” the older werewolf remarks dryly, but obliges Theo’s request.

***

A sense of foreboding has settled amongst all three of them as they near the Calaveras stronghold. The hunters may have agreed to provide information for a yet-to-be-named price, but that doesn’t make them any less lethal or ruthless. It’s not something any of them will ever forget.

Theo takes it all in as he steps into the space: an old but sturdy-looking wooden table in the middle of the room, a set of two steel chairs at the front of the table, looking out of place as they face an intricately carved high-backed wooden chair. Dim light filtered through the grimy barred-up windows, the only artificial source of light a small, metal lamp on the table illuminating the side of a face.

Araya Calavera.

Before anyone can move or say anything, Theo is suddenly grabbed from behind, his arms yanked in a vicious grasp that forces him into a cruciform stance, a serrated dagger pinned against his neck.

“Theo!”

Two hunters appear, each brandishing a shotgun, pointed directly at both Liam and Derek.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Araya says with a deadly smile. “The bullets are laced with wolfsbane.”

Both the wolves bare their fangs and glowing eyes, snarling at the matriarch, as other hunters come into the room, all poised to attack at any moment.

“But not for your pet Lobo Hueco. Wolfsbane won’t work on a chimera, hmm? But even your little healing factor won’t save you from a slashed throat.”

“You had a deal with Argent,” Derek growls, “You’re not supposed to hur—”

“Oh, this has nothing to do with that.” Araya says, waving a hand dismissively, “He is the one who faced the siren, is he not?” 

She continues without waiting for a response. “Did you know my family has a long history with sirens? Centuries. We call them Tlanchana, they are the water spirits who protect special waters. And they sing so beautifully, don’t they, Lobo Hueco?”

Her smile widens. “We do not know much about them. They do not engage with humans and the rest of the supernatural world unless their waters are threatened, and almost no one survives the siren song. But we know this: the more powerful the siren, the more potent their song. They do not sing just to drown you in their waters, no. They can sing their way into your minds, going deeper and deeper the longer they hold them in their grasp. Their victims can walk amongst us, go about their daily lives, and no one would ever know that there is a parasite in their head.”

Araya’s eyes flick to Severo, and suddenly there is a knife stabbing into Theo's stomach, twisting as the chimera buckles and groans.

“Stop it!” Liam growls, his eyes flashing desperately.

“We have found there is only one way to tell if someone has been taken by a Tlanchana: pain. The stronger the possession, the more pain necessary to break the hold.” Severo rips the knife from Theo’s stomach, only to plunge it into his thigh.

“Who do you belong to? What master do you serve?” 

“I serve no one!” Theo growls.

Severo’s other hand comes up, wielding a stun baton. Theo roars as the hunter simultaneously shocks and stabs him, struggling to get free, to curl his body around itself, all in vain.

“Let him go, Araya!” Derek growls.

“Who is your master?”

“I have no master!”

Over the shouting matriarch, the growling werewolves, over his own screams, Theo hears her.

Theo… 

“Who do you serve, Lobo Hueco!”

“I have no master!”

“Stop it!” Liam snarls at the matriarch. “He was unconscious when we found him, he wasn’t hypnotised by the siren!”

“No?” Araya nods to Serevo, but of course it isn’t over: Serevo only turns up the dial on the stun baton to the maximum, attacking again, and Theo can only scream, can only feel his body convulsing against blades now in his arm and cutting dangerously into his neck. 

“Araya!”

“I told you, the stronger La Tlanchana, the stronger the pain necessary. Who do you belong to?”

“I have no master!”

Theo…

“Do you know why the pain is necessary, little beta? Has your Alpha taught you the lesson?”

She doesn't wait for an answer.

“Serevo.” The hunter cuts Theo across the stomach, not enough to be fatal, but enough to make the chimera lose all strength in his legs, fully held up by the emotionless hunters on either side of him.

“Let him go, Araya!”

Theo…

“Who is your master, Theo?”

Theo’s vision is starting to fade at the edges, blackness creeping in and threatening to take over.

“Do you know why, Liam?”

“Because pain makes you human!” Liam growls at Araya. “Let him go!”

Serevo stabs Theo again, he doesn’t know where. The pain is too much, overtaking all his senses. 

Theo…

“Who do you belong to, Theo Raeken?!”

“No one!” Theo screams, lifting his head weakly to look Araya in the eyes, “I belong to no one.”

Araya smiles knowingly. And Theo is suddenly on the ground, hands wrapped around himself, shivering and shaking, hand over a heart that longs to go back to its true owner, as he hears her voice one more time.

Theo…

Strong arms pull Theo up to a sitting position, two sets of them. And when he raises his head, it’s Liam’s eyes he sees. The blue of a clear, cloudless sky.

Too soon, it’s gone as Liam whips his head back around to the matriarch, growling, “You didn’t have to torture him!”

“No?” Araya scoffs, “You would have done it instead?”

“We—”

“We were not killing him. We only did what was necessary. And he will heal while he’s locked up.”

“Locked up?” Derek’s voice is quiet but laced with fire. “He proved himself, didn’t he?”

“This has nothing to do with that. Remember when I said the torture had nothing to do with our deal with Argent?” Araya tilts her head, a grim smile creeping across her face. “This does.”

That’s the moment Theo remembers the terms of Argent’s deal: no harm to the McCall pack.

“But you said th—” 

Araya cuts Liam off. “That deal was for your pack, little beta. And Lobo Hueco, he is not pack, is he not?” 

Theo thinks his heart should stutter, that he should feel betrayed that he’s been brought by the pack as a bribe, a chimera carrot dangling in front of Araya’s nose. But how can he? He has no right.

“Araya,” Derek stands, moving warningly toward the matriarch, but a hunter with wolfsbane-laced bullets stops him.

“It was your mistake to bring him in the first place.”

“We forgot,” Liam whispers, horrified, his eyes flicking to Theo’s. “I swear, I forgot. I didn’t realise. Theo, I didn—”

“—asked for the one who faced the siren—”

“—then you should have known better—”

“Theo, I swear, I’ll figure something out.” Liam’s hand tightens on Theo’s arm. “We won’t leave you here, I pro—”

Whatever Liam says is drowned out by the roaring silence in Theo’s head. He should be panicking, should be scared. But he knows prisons. Has been in so many.

“—promised not to harm—”

“—I am a woman of my—“

“Wait.” Something in Liam’s voice has everyone pausing, all turning to look at the beta.

Liam frowns at Araya, looking up at her from his place by Theo’s side on the ground. “You promised Derek that no harm would come to anyone who came here. That was part of the deal.”

Liam stands, a hand still on Theo’s shoulder, his eyes flitting back and forth between the chimera and the Calaveras. 

“You promised Derek that no harm would come to anyone who came here,” Liam repeats, his tone firm, voice steady, eyes dark with determination. “Your deal with Derek didn’t say anything about who could or couldn’t be with him.”

There’s a moment when Araya’s hard gaze falters, flickers into hesitation for just a moment. “Theo is not part of you—”

“Not just the pack. Anyone. That means Theo, too.”

Araya’s mouth twists into a harsh, bitter line.

It’s strange, Theo knows he shouldn’t feel relieved for avoiding a fate that he’d already accepted, already knew he deserved. Liam and Derek could have thrown him to the hunters willingly, and he wouldn’t even have protested. Hadn’t even said anything throughout the whole exchange to fight it.

But they didn’t let him be taken. This time.

So Theo chuckles, the sound both a rasping gasp and an emotional release. “I guess you should have known better, hmm?”

***

Theo leans against the wall, sipping from a bottle of water that Derek had managed to intimidate the hunters into giving them. Liam’s hand has left his arm, though he’s standing close enough that Theo can feel the heat emanating from him, a tenseness in his body that makes him seem like he’s ready to pounce at any moment. 

Derek stands in the middle of the room, between Araya and Serevo, and the two younger boys, arms crossed and stoic as always.

Araya begins to tell them the story they came for.

“There was a lake near here once — Lake Texcoco. Its waters were clear and rich with minerals, making the land fertile and abundant. For centuries, ancient civilisations thrived along its shores, including the Aztecs. They built their capital city there, Tenōchtitlan, along with the temple, Templo Mayor, by the lake.

“The temple was a place of worship dedicated to many gods and goddesses, including Chalchiuhtlicue, the Goddess of Water and Lakes. Because of this, Lake Texcoco was sacred even to the humans who lived there. They kept it clean and safe. They performed rites thanking the life-giving waters. 

“What the people did not know was that it was home to a Tlanchana. It is a water spirit, not just a supernatural creature, and their purpose is to protect their sacred waters. The people were devoted to the water and their gods, which kept them safe from La Tlanchana, and so she lived peacefully amongst the villages, guarding the area with her abilities. But this does not mean La Tlanchana was not dangerous. There are many records of drownings in the lake, usually of people who intended to bring harm to the waters and temple.

“As time passed, more people came to the area. The city became bigger and greater, and they neglected their duty to the lake and the temple. It became more important to build, to grow. As the waters fell, the deaths around the lake grew. In 1607, there was a great flood that caused a lot of damage, killing many people. We think it was an omen, a warning, from La Tlanchana, but the people made the decision to drain the lake, not understanding the consequences of their actions.

“The people continued to drain the lake over the years, and the arid conditions of our weather drained it even more. But even as the waters started to vanish, deaths still occurred around the temple and lake. In the 19th century, the waters had dried up completely. The people left the cursed place behind, and it is now a bone-dry desert.

“Only the foolish go there now. The people believe the deaths are caused by Chalchiuhtlicue, the goddess taking revenge on her neglected waters. We know it is La Tlanchana, the siren.”

Theo, his strength slowly returning, starts to stand, and Liam helps him forward, into one of the two steel chairs by the table.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to tell us something without actually telling us something?” Theo says as sardonically as he can for someone groaning and shifting in pain.

“That’s just the way she works.” Derek grunts.

Araya smiles. “I said I would share information. I did not say it would be easy.”

“You were a teacher in another life, weren’t you?” Theo grumbles, “One of those teachers who say ‘I don’t know, can you?’ when someone asks if they can go take a piss.”

Araya leans back, reaching for an apple on the table, skinning it with the ease of someone practised with the motion.

“You said ‘people’,” Theo realises. “So it’s not just men that sirens can target.”

“You white people and your obsession with the Greeks and Romans.” Serevo mutters from somewhere behind them. 

“Theo,” Liam says suddenly, “It’s something to do with the water, isn’t it? Like what Peter said?”

Theo looks over at Liam with a frown. “Honestly, that tea-loving maniac told us more about the Nemeton than anything else.”

“Exactly. Druids protect and nurture the Nemeton’s power. Druids are still human, but sirens are supernatural creatures and guardians. Also spirits. Maybe their power is connected to the lake?”

“Araya,” Derek speaks up suddenly. “Those people who were in thrall to the Sirens, the Tlanchana, did that still happen when the lake dried up?”

“I believe I was quite clear.”

“You’re right,” Liam says to Theo, “She really is annoying.”

“But she was specific, she said deaths. So that means sirens can only possess someone by drowning them.”

The connection isn’t lost to Theo, girls and waters and drowning. But even as he hears her voice again, hovering at the edges of his mind, the sense of urgency to figure this out enables him to push it away, to force his heartbeat to stay consistent.

“Maybe.” Derek contemplates, “But this also means something else, that they don’t need their sacred waters to live. A siren could be immortal. How else would it have survived over the centuries?”

“But not invulnerable.” Araya leans forward at the chimera’s statement, just a slight movement that Theo alone seems to notice. “I got some good hits in. I remember drawing blood.”

“Okay,” Liam says slowly, “Still not great news but better.”

“Deaton told me that sirens kill to gain power. But if the siren has still been killing people since the lake dried up, why hasn’t it done more with the power it gets from killing?”

“So the water is much more important than we think.” Derek says, “They need to drown to grow their power.”

Like drowning a little girl in a near-freezing lake to preserve her heart and become a monster. The heart that begins to stutter and pound in Theo’s chest.

Liam catches it, glancing aside to Theo, who keeps his face carefully blank.

“Good to know that you have some brains,” Araya says, leaning back with a small smirk. “Now you can use your newfound knowledge to help me. After all, Derek, I did say my help would come at a price.

“And my price is you killing the siren.”

***

“You want us to kill a siren?” Liam hisses at Araya.

“No, I want you to kill the siren that haunts Templo Mayor, at Lake Texcoco.”

“The one who has potentially been alive for centuries?” Theo says skeptically, “Maybe even millenia?”

“...milleniums?” Liam questions under his breath.

Theo cuts a glare at the beta, side-eying him, “No, I’m pretty sure it’s millenia.”

“But I rem—”

“Boys!” Derek says sharply, “Sirens. Focus.”

“If we could even kill it, what makes you think we would?” Liam asks warily. 

“Your pack killed the Anuk-Ite and the Beast of Gévaudan,” Araya says with a slow, smug smile. “You have killed Ghost Riders.”

Theo looks at Liam; the expression on his face shows they’re both thinking back to the same thing. 

“But this isn’t the same, the siren isn’t—”

“Affecting you and the people around you?” Araya cuts in. “Is that your difference between those worth protecting and those who are not? This siren caused mass destruction, killed hundreds of people over centuries, maybe even thousands with the great flood.”

“I don’t— We’re not— I just—”

“But the temple,” Theo interjects, “You said people avoid the place, that—”

“I said only the foolish go there. Those who think they know better, or worse, know nothing at all. Death still happens whether we want it or not.”

Theo watches as Liam’s arms fall helplessly to his sides.

He can only imagine the conflict in the beta’s head, trying to reconcile that the pack has killed before with the reality that he may be willing to do so in a desperate attempt to save only the people around him. He imagines it must be hard to be in Liam’s position.

Theo imagines, only because he knows that if it were him, he’d just kill the siren. Maybe even Araya while he was at it. 

Araya tilts her head, her smile turning into the smirk of someone who has backed the other into a corner. Theo knows the look well. “And let me remind you that paying our price is part of the deal. If you do not do it, I will have no obligation to leave you unharmed.” Her eyes slide to Theo with a wink, as Liam deflates even further into his chair.

Theo imagines, only because he knows that if it were him, and if it wasn't possible to kill a potentially immortal being, he’d pay the price. 

It’s not worth much, anyway.

Then the pieces fall into place in Theo’s head.

“We’ll go.”

Derek looks at him sharply, studying his face.

“What?!” Liam glares at the chimera, “We can’t just—”

“We’ll go and see what’s left of the siren.”

“You can’t ju—”

Liam is cut off by Derek stepping forward. “And will you torture us if we come back?”

Araya smiles again, so slick and slimy that Theo longs to punch her in the face. “That depends on what you leave behind, hmm?”

Chapter Text

“Why did you do that?” Liam hisses at Theo, his body twisted at an awkward angle to glare at Liam from Derek’s front seat as they drive back to the motel to let Theo heal for the night. “And you!” He turns to Derek, “How could you just agree to it? We can’t leave Theo to—”

“And we won’t,” Derek says firmly, “Much as I don’t like the idea of Theo running around Beacon Hills, we won’t leave him with the Calaveras. And if I’m right,” The werewolf meets Theo’s eyes through the rearview mirror, “We won’t have to, will we?”

Theo grins. “If I’m right, yes. And I usually am.”

Liam turns back to Theo. “What? What is it?”

“Lake Texcoco, it’s had a siren for centuries. Even after the lake drained, the siren remained. That means sirens are tied to specific waters.”

“Okay, and?”

“Remember when Mason said that the song I heard may be a siren being born?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“That means the siren that’s in Beacon Hills isn’t the same siren that was there before, the one Peter’s grandfather knew.”

Liam frowns. “Where are you going with this?”

“I think the siren that we heard is the daughter of a siren that used to be in Beacon Hills. She came back to give birth, maybe she couldn’t give birth anywhere else except the body of water she’s tied to.”

“I still don’t understand.”

Derek looks at Theo again, “You think that sirens may not be immortal after all. You think that the siren that’s at Lake Texcoco now isn’t the same siren that caused the floods.”

“Exactly,” Theo nods. “They wouldn’t need offspring to take over their roles if they didn’t die. If we can prove it, maybe we can convince Araya that there isn’t a need to kill the siren. She was very focused on the floods.”

“It’s not a very strong theory.” Derek points out. “And Araya’s terms were very specific.”

“I guess it’s all we’ve got.” Liam says doubtfully, “But what if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll kill the siren,” Theo shrugs, “No need for you to get your pretty little hands dirty, Liam.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Liam spits angrily, “Though I don’t know how I feel about killing a siren that can’t cause floods anymore, even if it did in the past.”

Theo blinks. “Then what?”

“I meant, what if we can’t convince Araya to let you go?”

Oh.

Derek firmly declares, “We are not leaving Theo with the Calaveras.”

Because Theo knows too much about the pack, is too unpredictable to be left in the hands of someone like Araya. 

A liability. 

***

“So, does anyone else feel kinda weird being here?” Liam questions apprehensively as the three climb out of Derek’s car. 

Theo gazes out at the desert, an empty expanse broken only by the presence of rocks and boulders scattered across the plain. 

“No, it looks like a lovely holiday destination.” Theo responds as he tilts his face up to the sky, letting the afternoon sun beat an unforgiving force into his eyes.

He likes doing this, likes to look up at every sky he’s under. He’s heard it said that we all live under the same sky, but Theo has never really found that to be true. 

Even on a clear day, the clouds paint a different picture every time, lying against blues that could range from desaturated shades of aqua to bright, rich ceruleans. Sometimes the canvas darkens, a heavy grey that precedes the stubborn approach of a storm, static rubbing against all it finds, the herald of lightning that strikes without discrimination.

And at night, the dusting of the stars and the planets, flickering awake as the blue of the day travels the spectrum of colours, only to settle on a darker shade from whence it began — blue, the only constant.

He loves all the different skies the days and nights bring, loves that he can exist under something that most look on as an immutable constant, that only he knows is ever changing, moment to moment.

Or maybe he just never really had the chance to truly live under it.

The thought startles Theo, who’d up to that point simply put down his love for the sky to his following the Dread Doctors from one underground lair to another. There’s still truth to that, but is this what he’s doing now, living? Or trying to?

“Guys,” Liam’s troubled voice wakes Theo from his discomfited introspection, the beta standing near what looks like a large pit. “I think I found the people who came here.”

Theo inches his way to the hole, a pit of his own forming in his stomach.

A disgusting green sludge lines the floor of the trench. Bodies, mostly skeletal remains, are stacked haphazardly on top of each other, so many that Theo can’t tell where one body starts and another begins.

A voice haunts his mind, an unnatural, distorted sound, metallic and filtered: ‘As many as it takes’. An image materialises — the Nemeton, piled with bodies, more than there had been when Theo had seen it last. They’re there. Josh, Tracey and—

The vision changes, and there’s the crater again, with bodies upon bodies, only she’s on top, inexplicably wet, eyes opening and fingers twitching, arms convul—

“I think she dragged them here.” Derek’s voice shocks him back into reality, “Do you see those?”

Derek points towards the edge of the pit, and as Theo looks, he calms the nervous heart in his chest. A series of lines leads away from the hole, etched like scars into the dry, desert floor, leading to the east.

His eyes land on the remains of a massive stone structure in the distance, sitting on the top of a barren hill. A flat-topped pyramid, the hundreds of imposing steps leading to the top now broken and crumbling. At the summit, two distinct buildings mirror the shape of the pyramid beneath them, their jagged edges casting fractured shadows that slither down the weathered stone. 

It’s almost surprising that they hadn’t seen the temple when they had gotten out of the car, but even the light of the sun seems to recede from it, as though nature itself knows the blood once spilt in this place that still waits to claim its next soul.

“We have—” Theo cuts himself off, his voice cracking against a dry throat, “We have to go there, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Derek answers, firm and steady, though the deeper-than-usual furrow between his brows betrays his unease. “And we won’t be able to drive up there, there are too many rocks and the ground is too uneven. I think we’re standing on the dried-up bed of Lake Texcoco.”

“‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more’.” Theo quotes under his breath as they start walking towards the temple, only to have Derek glance at him.

“You’re familiar with Shakespeare?”

“I like to read.”

“Really?” This comes from Liam, surprise bright in his eyes.

“It was the only entertainment mummy and daddy let me have.” Derek and Liam exchange charged looks. “I mean the Dread Doctors.”

“Oh,” Liam says quietly, his eyes darting back and forth, clearly looking for something else to say.

“What’s your favourite book?” Derek asks, breaking the awkwardness.

“The Hobbit.”

“What did you think of The Hobbit movies versus The Lord of the Rings ones?”

“I haven’t seen them.” The older werewolf opens his mouth, but Theo speaks over him. “I was too young when they came out, so my parents didn’t let me watch them. Then, you know, didn’t have the time.”

Derek merely responds with a wordless grunt that could have meant anything before speeding up as Liam falls into step beside Theo.

“Looks like you and Derek may have something in common.”

“Shakespeare?” Theo questions skeptically.

“No, reading. He has a lot of books at his place.”

“Right.”

“I’ve never really heard—” Liam is stopped mid-sentence when a block of stone at the temple suddenly crumbles and falls to the ground, landing with a sound like thunder that seems to echo forever.

“That is not a good sign.” Liam declares flatly. 

“But a sign we’re in the right place, nonetheless,” Derek says, looking over his shoulder at Theo. “Any more quotes for the mess we’re probably about to walk into?”

"You're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting,
So... get on your way!” Theo recites with an inordinate amount of false enthusiasm.

Derek gives his head a little shake, face still impassive, and they set off toward their mountain — Templo Mayor.

***

If any of the three are surprised that whatever remains of the stairs holds as they make their ascent, none of them show it, all climbing in a restless but determined state.

All three, though, do reach the upper platform panting for breath, pulling themselves over the final ledge with groans all around.

“How—” gasps Theo, “Did the Aztecs do this— without any— supernatural powers?”

“Sacrifices.” Liam wheezes in response. “Probably— the sacrifices.”

“We have—” Derek heaves, “To get up— Don’t know— what’s watching us.”

“Leave me,” the beta whines, “I can’t move— I’ll be the— sacrifice.”

But eventually the need for caution overtakes them, and they haul themselves off the stone floor, still panting.

Theo’s eyes find a large stone table set before the shrine on the right, one of the only parts of the temple left undamaged, almost pristine. Liam’s comment on sacrifices makes him wonder if this was where the rituals were held, if they only involved animals or humans, too. Maybe those offerings had imbued it with an unnatural persistence against the ravages of time and nature.

How would they have done it? Slitting the throat, severing the carotid artery and jugular vein so the offering bled to death quickly? Drowning them in the nearby lake, as an homage to the water deities the temple was built for? Or maybe they would carve into her chest, shattering the ribcage with a hammer and chisel, reach in a small, shivering hand and—

“Theo?” He turns, seeing Liam watching him carefully. “Are you okay?”

Theo finds his hand on his chest, on the heart, rapidly thumping. Derek stands at a distance, observing the chimera over Liam’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Yes, of course.” He breaks away from the beta’s side, going to stand before the two overbearing temples, identical heavy stone doors barring the way in.

Derek and Liam come to stand near Theo.

“Do any of you hear anything?” Liam asks. Both Theo and Derek shake their heads no. “Neither do I. I don’t know if I’m relieved or even more nervous.”

“Personally,” Derek responds dryly, “I’m saving my relief for if we come out of this alive.”

“We’re not going to split up, are we?” Liam gestures at the two shrines. 

“Hell no!” Theo barks out, “There might be booby traps.”

Liam scoffs unexpectedly, breaking the fear-laced tension slightly, “What, like a boulder that will come rolling towards us? Those aren’t real.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it’s Hollywood crap. Mesoamerican cultures didn’t do those things.”

“How do you know?” Derek asks skeptically.

“He likes history,” Theo explains, waving a dismissive hand. “Anyway, which one should we go into, professor?”

“I don’t know that much about Aztec history, almost nothing about their mythology!”

“Well, you probably know more than both of us combined.” Theo looks at Derek as he says it, who shrugs back.

“Okay,” Liam takes a breath, “Araya said the temple was built for multiple gods and goddesses, right? But they had quite a few main gods…”

The beta’s voice trails off as he approaches one of the shrines, eyes focused on the carvings on the archway and door.

Theo watches, the hairs on his arms rising as the beta gets even closer to the door, reaching out a hand before drawing it back quickly. Liam purses his lips, lost in thought, as the chimera looks around warily, Derek doing the same, a deep frown embedded on his face.

All around them, it’s too quiet, too still. Not even a movement on the wind. The air hangs heavy and almost cold, like a glacial shroud was laid upon them despite the sun still high in the sky.

Behind them, Liam goes to the twin shrine, repeating his inspection.

Theo grows more agitated, restless, a body of nerves poised to react at the slightest motion or sound. Only there’s nothing at all.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” Derek says quietly, “The darkness?”

“Yeah. Like… like a residue.”

“Reminds me of Jennifer.” Theo looks at him questioningly. “The Darach.”

Oh.

Finally, Liam turns to face them, a frown on his face. “I could be wrong.”

“But?” Derek asks.

“There better be a ‘but’.” Theo mutters, unable to stop himself from rubbing at the goosebumps on his arms, though he gets some gratification knowing that the others had started doing it first.

“The temple on the right, the figure on the door, it looks like it’s wearing feathers. I remember one of the gods being associated with eagles or some other bird. And look at its hand.”

Theo peers at where Liam is pointing, where the figure holds a snake. No. “A spear.”

“Right. I think that’s the god of war, though I can’t remember the name.”

“And the other one?

Their small group walks slowly to the temple on the left.

“Do you see the lightning bolts and flowers? And that looks like raindrops. I think that’s the God of rain and agriculture.”

Theo laughs, a strange sound of release that comes out of him automatically, and the werewolves look at him with an odd mixture of surprise, concern, and suspicion.

“You and your love for history, Liam,” He shakes his head, “Is either going to save us or doom us.”

Liam shrugs, steeling his shoulders as he approaches the door, arms raised, even as a nervous scent rises off him. “Well, history has a habit of repeating itself. And my plan worked last time, so.”

“So.”

And Theo and Derek join the beta, pushing open the heavy stone doors.

***

“Don’t get me wrong,” Theo drawls, “I’m glad we don’t have to fight a siren, but I think we may have made a wasted trip.”

The three of them stand in the large cavernous hall where they had first entered, stone pillars lining the perimeter walls, a few by some miracle mostly intact, while others had collapsed into the rocks that littered the expanse of the room.

All of them are glowing their eyes and sniffing the air, though there’s nothing to see and the only smell is that of decay.

“There’s nothing here.” Theo insists, tired and annoyed from the hour they’d spent exploring the abandoned temple, only to turn up with nothing, no sign of a siren, no carvings on walls depicting sirens, nothing.

Both werewolves ignore him, continuing to look around.

“We could at least go to the other temple? Maybe the siren is trying to throw us off, hide in the temple of war instead.”

They continue to ignore him. With a sigh, he rejoins the search.

“Guys.” Liam’s voice has Derek and Theo joining him at one of the walls. He points at a circle carved into the wall, though whatever symbol it bore has long faded away.

Without waiting for either of them to say anything, the beta reaches out, pushing the circle. It sinks into the wall.

A rumbling has all three of them whipping around, claws out and ready, only to see one of the many pillars shift, revealing a dark hole in the ground.

They look between each other.

“Didn’t you say there would be no booby traps?” Theo slants his eyes to the beta, an accusation in his gaze.

“Yeah,” Liam rolls his eyes, “I didn’t say there were no secret entrances.”

“So you knew there might be hidden doors this whole time?”

“No! I told you I don’t know much about the Aztecs, I just know there aren’t any tr—”

“Boys,” Derek calls to them from where half his body sticks out of the hole. “There are stairs.”

Each taking a breath, they follow him down into a small chamber.

And are rendered speechless by the sight before them.

Painted markings, clustered by colours but overlapping each other, line all the walls of the small room. Scattered across the floor, scratch marks snake across the stone, long and shallow, like the desperate marks of one reaching for something futile.

“Well, this is a type of crazy I was not prepared for,” Theo mutters, looking around.

“What do you think painted these?” Liam ponders, wandering to the closest wall, fingering the marks, Theo following him, while Derek hangs behind.

“I don’t know. But look at these ones,” Theo points to the black markings nearest the ground, “Those look the freshest.”

“There are hundreds of them. What if they each represent a siren?”

“I fucking hope not.” Theo shudders.

“See how some of them are smaller than the others?” Liam points to one set of lines in white. “They start small, then get bigger, and then go back to being small again.”

“Yeah,” Theo nods, “And look how these blue markings suddenly overlap the white and—” He cuts himself off, turning to Liam. “You said hundreds?”

“Er… yes?”

Turning back to the walls, Theo’s eyes flicker across all the different markings, a pattern forming in his head.

“Theo?”

“A hundred years.” The chimera breathes to himself.

“What?”

“The lines, each colour has a hundred marks, even when they overlap.”

“So sirens live for a hundred years?” Derek’s question has both of the younger boys jumping.

“Jesus.”

“Theo? What were you saying?”

“Theoretically, yeah, maybe each mark is for a year of their life.”

Derek looks around, counting under his breath. “There are at least 8 distinct colours here. I think that lines up with when the flood happened, when the people started abandoning the temple.”

“We’re shooting in the dark here.”

The older werewolf shrugs, “That’s pretty much modus operandi for the pack.”

They stand in silence, gazing at the marks, when Theo speaks up. “Liam, take some pictures. Send them to Mason. Out of all of us, he’s probably the one who can figure it out the quickest.”

Liam gives him a look of surprise. “Sure, but I don’t have reception here.”

“Just take some, you can send them when we leave.”

“Theo,” Derek says suddenly, “Which are the freshest marks? How many are there?”

Theo points to the black lines nearest the floor, counting as he goes. “There’s only ninety-nine of them.”

“Are you sure?” Liam’s eyes flicker back and forth across the wall. “You’re right, ninety-nine marks.”

“Then that means—”

Whatever Derek was going to say is interrupted when a dark figure leaps down from the hole in the ceiling, hissing and snarling.

She hurls herself at Derek, who’s nearest, a blur of movement. The werewolf reacts instantly, throwing her against a wall, where she crumples to the ground. 

“Fucking hell,” Derek utters, more in shock than in fear, as they get a good look at the siren.

An emaciated figure, with skin so dry and stretched over her bones that it’s cracked and peeling. Ugly scars line her body, clusters of red welts, raised and deformed. Razor-sharp talons crusted over with dirt scratch at the floor where they emerge from her fingers. Scraggly black hair, limp with grime, hangs in patches from her head, barely hiding glowing sea-green eyes like a dirty curtain. Eyes that glare with pure hatred as she lifts her head, meeting their gazes. 

The siren throws her head back, and the three of them barely react in time, slamming their hands over their ears, as she shrieks. The sound is too loud to avoid, penetrating right into their skull, shaking their eyeballs right in their sockets. But nothing else happens to them.

As suddenly as she started, the siren stopped, bringing her hands to her face, clawing at herself.

Hesitantly, Theo loosens his grip on his ears, hearing the weak cries and groans coming from the siren as she shakes, scratching, and scratching.

“She’s… oh my god.” Theo hears Liam whisper. Identical scents of confusion and pity emanate from both werewolves, fear fading as they take in the broken figure before them.

“She’s gone insane.” Derek realises, “She has no water, and it’s driven her mad.”

“What do we do?” Liam whispers, horrified by the sight before him. “We can’t just… leave her like this.”

“Yeah, we can.” Theo declares instantly. Both werewolves whip their heads around to glare at him. “No, listen, you can’t save her. The lake has dried up.”

“What about the Calaveras?”

“If we’re right, she only has a year left to live. Maybe less.”

“I don’t think that will stop them from wanting to kill her. She’s killed people, and recently too — they have a code!”

Theo rolls his eyes at the beta’s unshakeable morals, though really, what did he expect from Scott McCall’s beta? But he tries to convince them again anyway. 

“It’s not like she can get more power without drowning them in her lake, so she’s not that much of a danger. We can use that to get the hunters to leave her alone, and make sure people don’t come here.”

“Even if they do, I don’t know if she can even kill anymore.”

“She can,” Derek says, “She’s weak, very weak, but she’s still stronger than a human. And that scream, it would probably incapacitate anyone.”

They look back at the siren, still crying and scratching at herself.

“Should we do something? Stop her from hurting herself?” The beta asks, looking at the siren with a soft, concerned look on his face that Theo has never seen before.

“I don’t know if we can.” Derek tells the beta quietly, “I think the tie to her lake is like her lifeforce. Without it, she’s just a shell, operating on instinct. Even then, what can we do? Tie her up and throw her in the car? Then what?”

“Maybe,” Liam’s eyes flicker from Theo to Derek, “Maybe it’s better for her if she isn’t… alive.”

A mercy killing.

“Liam, I do—” Derek stops mid-sentence as the siren suddenly stops its cries, hands drifting down from her face to the floor, talons wet with a dark liquid scratching the stone again.

“Holy fuck.” Theo exclaims, all of them taking a step back, looking with horror at the siren’s mouth, lips ripped away, black blood dripping from the wounds.

Before their eyes, she transforms, black scales rippling down her body, feathers so matted and dry they look like sticks as they emerge.

“Liam, I think we sh—”

The siren leaps at Theo, so quickly that he doesn’t have the time to dodge far enough away, her talons embedding themselves in his shoulders as he screams.

Liam and Derek move towards him instantly, as the siren pushes her face into Theo’s, opening her mouth.

Derek changes course, whipping Liam back from the chimera, covering his ears as Liam follows suit.

Theo can only watch in pain as the siren begins to sing. Only, it’s not a song. It’s a cacophony, a garbled mess of foreign words, a tangle of tuneless notes. He feels nothing, only the pain radiating from the wounds in his shoulders.

Seeing the chimera’s reaction, the werewolves remove their hands from their ears, Derek ripping the siren from Theo’s body, where she hits a wall again, sliding to the floor, shivering violently.

“She can’t sing,” Theo gasps as Liam immediately jumps to his side to help staunch the bleeding. “She has no lake,” Theo repeats. “The loss has driven her so crazy that she can’t sing.”

“She’s not harmless,” Derek starts to say. “But I don’t think there’s any harm in just leaving her here.”

“Oh, really?” Theo asks sarcastically, gesturing wildly to his bleeding shoulders. 

Liam smacks his hand away. “Stop it, you’ll make the cuts worse.”

“It’s not that bad. It’ll take a while to heal, but I’ll survive.”

“What do you want to do, Liam?” Derek asks, looking at the beta. “It’s your call.”

The beta frowns as he stands, wiping his hands on his jeans, staining them with blood. Theo’s blood.

“We have to convince the Calavera’s not to harm her.” He finally declares. “Sirens only live for a hundred years, so she’s definitely not the cause of the flood. The lake probably dried up right after she was born.”

“What about us? Are we going to harm her?” Theo questions carefully. 

“No,” Liam’s face is firm, even if his voice is touched with pity. “She’s going to die soon. As long as the hunters make sure no one comes here, people will be safe. This area is their responsibility, not ours. There’s no more water, but she’s the last siren of Lake Texcoco. I think she deserves to live out the rest of her days here, in her home.”

The three of them are silent as Derek and Theo weigh the beta’s words.

“Okay.” Derek agrees, and both the wolves look at Theo.

“Fine.” Not like he could take both of them anyway, with his non-healing injured shoulders.

What if Liam had decided differently, though? Would Theo have had to be the one to do it, or even have wanted to? Would it feel different from all the other lives he’d taken? Would it be difficult this time?

It’s too much to think about. And right now, he doesn’t care, not when he’s bleeding from his shoulders and probably will for hours. Not when it wasn’t even his choice to make. 

All he wants now is to put this place and this siren behind him. He makes for the stairs, Derek following, but Liam hesitates.

The beta walks back to her shivering, crying form, reaching a tentative hand out, placing it on the back of hers. Black veins flow from her into him, marring the tanned skin already stained with Theo’s blood.

The siren stops shaking, transforming into her human form, deep brown eyes looking up into Liam’s face for just a moment. Then she curls up into herself, a small, feeble thing, huddled in the farthest corner of the room.

As they descend the steps of Templo Mayor, they hear a cry echo from deep within the walls, a twisted snarl of notes lying in the unmade bed of a lost melody that, if found, would have been the voice of sorrow and grief itself.

Chapter Text

“Give me one good reason.” Araya demands, arms crossed but body relaxed, as her hunters aim their wolfsbane-loaded weapons at Derek, Liam, and Theo.

“Uh, we just did?” Liam glares, arms up in an odd position, like he had been instinctively raising his arms in response to the guns, but had also been torn with wanting to get into a defensive stance.

Derek mirrored Araya’s cross-armed pose, tense and ready. Theo, however, leaned his weight onto one leg, hands in his pockets, the perfect picture of a man unbothered.

“You saying La Tlanchana cannot sing anymore does not ease my mind, when it has the power to possess.”

“But it doesn’t!” Liam insists, eyeing a hunter who starts twirling a dagger in his hand like a baton. “You said yourself that the siren hadn’t possessed anyone since the lake dried up!”

“Did I?”

“You gave us the facts.” Derek says firmly, “We drew a conclusion and verified it with our own eyes: the siren can’t sing without its water. She’s completely lost her mind without the lake.”

“Ah, but not these eyes.” Araya smiles, a glint in her eyes. “That’s what the torture is for.”

“Oh, if that’s all you needed.” Theo pulls his phone from his pocket, already queued up to an audio recording, his quick movement startling a hunter into throwing his knife. Theo deftly catches it, burying it into the ground at the feet of the hunter with a quick jab of his hand. It costs him, though, his shoulder wounds from the siren tearing slightly.

He tosses the phone to Araya, who easily grabs it mid-air from where it had been gunning right for her face, studying the chimera thoughtfully. She lifts a hand, and everyone except the supernaturals (and one unnatural) immediately cowers, covering their ears.

With a flick of her eyes over her hunters, Araya taps the phone, the screeching wail of the Templo Mayor siren a tinny noise through the speakers, but still a jarring, tuneless discord that grates on Theo’s ears, even from where he’s standing.

Liam turns to stare at him, goggle-eyed. “When did you take that?”

“When I figured it might help us not get tortured.” He smirks at the beta.

The din stops, and Araya tosses the phone back to Theo, as Derek gives him a curt nod.

Approval. The guard dog has done his job.

“That still does not explain why La Tlanchana is still alive.” The hunters around them fall back into their offensive positions.

“She’s already dying.” Liam protests.

“Ah, yes, the painted marks. Tell me, little beta, were you the one who came to that conclusion? Or, did someone with more brains do that?”

Liam bristles, and Theo opens his mouth, “He’s the pretty face of this operation.” Liam turns his glare onto the chimera. “But either way, what he said still stands: the siren only has a year left at most.”

“That Tlanchana has killed people.”

“But she hasn’t drowned them. She has barely any power.”

“And yet not harmless, hmm?” Her eyes fall to the wounds on Theo’s shoulders. “Such a sorry appearance you make. How many days will it take for those to heal? Two, maybe more?”

“Well, if I'd known about this little rendezvous, I would have made sure to clean up.” Theo looks sarcastically at the hunters gathered around them in the middle of the desert, an ambush in the dark.

“Araya,” Derek interrupts, “All you need to do is make sure no one goes there anymore. Shouldn’t be hard since you said most people avoid the space.”

“And you think it is so easy, guarding this huge desert.”

“You seem to be having no problem right now,” Theo responds, gesturing around him.

“She is going to die!” Liam bursts out, “Just leave her alone!”

“Your theory of Tlanchana living only a hundred years is just a theory. She could live for years, even decades, killing more innocent people.”

“And that’s just a theory, too, isn’t it?” Liam snaps back, fire in his eyes. “You told us you don’t know that much about sirens.” 

Theo cracks a smile, impressed.

“That’s not our problem,” Derek says firmly, “The siren was defending her home, acting on instinct. This place has always been the responsibility of the Calaveras. You have a code, your job is to keep the humans safe from the supernatural. It doesn’t mean you have to kill them, especially when they’re a broken shell of themselves.”

“That’s exactly what we were doing, Lobito. Except you failed.”

“But… did we?” Theo’s mocking tone has even the stern-faced Araya cracking, her eye twitching.

Theo temples his hands in front of his chest, ignoring the twinge of pain in his shoulders, tapping his index fingers in a way that he knew would drive Araya mad, even if she didn’t show it.

“Derek’s right. You have a code. Why didn’t you go kill the siren when it began killing? Or,” Theo brings his hands together with a loud smack. “Better question, why didn’t your ancestors kill the siren that caused the flood? Or the ones that came after it, who have been killing people all this time, hmm? ”

Araya purses her lips, glaring hard at Theo.

“I have another theory, Araya. May I call you Araya?” He tilts his head, while the matriarch remains silent, eye twitching furiously. “Anyway, it’s very easily tested.”

Theo pulls out his phone, bringing up the recording again, immediately causing all the hunters, save Araya, to again cover their ears, eyes wide as they stare at the chimera.

“You see, I think you and your hunters are scared of the sirens. You’ve been terrified for centuries. Look at where we are: you didn’t even want to get close to the temple. Look at your people: trembling like god himself is here to deal out judgement.

“Not that I believe in god, of course,” Theo turns to one of the hunters near him, gesturing in a ‘please-excuse-me’ sort of way. “I’m an atheist. But my theory has been tested and my hypothesis proven. You're too afraid to go near the sirens, that’s why you need us. And we’re not going to kill the siren.”

Everyone is silent, watching the stand-off between the glowering Araya and smirking Theo.

“That’s only because you are on a leash, Lobo Hueco.” She finally says, a weak comeback from someone cornered.

“Yeah, yeah.” Theo waves his hand dismissively, “I’m a monster, I’m a killer, I would have killed the siren. We all know it. Too bad you decided to make a deal with Scott McCall’s pack.”

“The deal is void. You did not hold up your end of the bargain. Argent’s deal will protect Liam and Derek, but not you, Theo Raeken. You will be coming with us.”

At Araya’s words, the hunters move toward Theo, Derek and Liam instantly falling into defensive stances.

“No, I won’t. Because I have a new deal for you.” Araya raises her hand, stopping them. “Like Liam pointed out, you don’t have much information about the sirens. But unlike you, Liam and the rest of his pack aren’t afraid to face the siren. And along the way, they’ll gather little tidbits of information that may just prove useful if you ever come across another one.”

Liam nods immediately, agreeing to the terms. Liability, Theo’s mind sings at him. Liability.

There’s another tense moment as Araya doesn’t speak for almost a minute. But finally, she does. “You should keep that leash tight, little beta. Your pet chimera knows how to rewrite the rules of the game.”

And with that, she turns back to her vehicle, her hunters following automatically.

As they drive off, Liam turns to Theo, mouth agape. “You were like a supervillain. And I totally mean that as a compliment. You completely destroyed her.”

“And she would have gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for us meddling kids.” Theo quips as he climbs back into Derek’s car, a grin on his face.

***

“Hey Mason, you’re on speaker,” Liam says to the phone he holds up as they drive back to the motel.

–Hey man, so did you and Derek make it out okay?–

“Yeah, we’re fine, but er… Theo got a little bit hurt.”

–Oh. But he’ll heal, right?–

“Thanks, Mason,” Theo says dryly from the back where he’d been replacing the makeshift bandages they’d made from a spare t-shirt of Derek’s, “Your concern touches me.”

–Oh!– There’s an awkward pause. –Sorry, thought you were driving in your truck.–

Right.

“I think Derek here was afraid I’d just drive off and leave them behind.” The older werewolf meets his eyes in the rearview mirror before turning back to the road.

–Anyway, what happened?–

Liam starts to explain everything that had occurred, while Theo considers what he’d just said. True, Derek’s SUV was better suited for the desert terrain, especially since Theo’s truck was pretty much falling apart. But neither werewolf had denied what Theo had said.

Not that it mattered. They didn’t trust him; that was just a fact of Theo’s life, even if he was, what did Liam say before, ‘forging his own path’? You can train the most vicious of dogs, subject them to the most gruelling punishments, but you always keep the chains on.

–Intense.– Theo comes back to the present at the sound of Mason’s voice. –I took a look at the photos you sent me.–

“And?” Liam asks.

–They are… intense.–

“Is that the only word in your vocabulary?” Theo asks testily.

–It is when my head is filled with psychotic hunters, evil sirens, and lakes.–

“And is any of that useful ?”

–Remind me why we need him again?–

Liam looks back at Theo, then shrugs. “He saved us from getting tortured.”

While he himself had gotten tortured, Theo adds with some bitterness, but keeps his mouth shut. It was par for the course.

–Fair enough. For… Well, anyway, back to the photos. I came to the same conclusion about sirens only living for a hundred years, but how the different coloured marks overlapped was interesting. The new colour starts overlapping near the halfway point, at 45 years. I think that’s when a new siren is born, maybe to the previous siren.–

“What makes you think that?”

–Well, when the marks first start, they’re smaller, right? That could indicate that they’re a child. At 45 years, when the next colour joins the first, the new marks are small too.–

“When do they get bigger?”

–18 years. But they get smaller again at 90 years.–

“18 years? Like becoming an adult?” Derek asks.

–Yeah, that’s my best guess.–

Theo frowns, Liam catching it in the rearview mirror. “Theo? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about the theory about the song of the siren’s birth. What if it’s not when they’re born, but when they turn 18? Like, they’re coming-of-age or coming into their powers.”

–That makes sense.– Mason agrees, –So we’re looking for a siren who came to the lake at 18. How long ago did the previous siren leave Beacon Hills? Maybe the new siren is the old siren’s daughter, coming back to her home?–

“Deaton’s working on that,” Theo tells them, “But it might not just be the daughter. It could be the mother, too. Remember, I heard two songs.”

“Then we need to find out why the siren left in the first place,” Derek says.

“I have a question.” Liam ventures.

–I have many.– Mason counters.

“Sirens are meant to protect their water, so what if the siren taking the three joggers, what if that’s all they plan to do? Just get enough power to protect the lake and then stop, until something threatens them. If even the Calaveras are that afraid of the sirens, if they’re not going to do anything else, maybe we should just leave them alone.”

–Right, about that…–

“Mason?”

“So, Alec and Nolan went to the Sheriff like you asked. They found some other people who were jogging on the same paths, at the same time, as the missing joggers that night.”

“So they were targeted.” Theo deduces.

–Yeah, so they dug a little deeper, called in a favour with Scott’s dad. One of the joggers is apparently ex-Delta Force, a secret unit in the army.–

“And the other two?”

–One used to be a professional MMA fighter, and the other was a Marine. That ex-Delta Force woman was working in sales; that's why we didn’t see any connection at first.–

“They were targeted because they’re fighters.” Derek concludes, “Which probably means the sirens have some sort of plan.”

“Do you think the type of person they drown makes a difference to their power?” Liam asks, “Maybe that’s why they targeted you, Theo.”

Theo gives him a wry look. “I’ve been told I’m more of a killer.”

“But you can fight. And honestly, those joggers were probably killers too. Have you seen professional MMA fighters? They can be lethal if they want to be.” Derek tells him, watching Theo in the mirror, who forces himself not to look away.

–I think Derek’s right,– Mason agrees, –If it's not random, it means they have something else planned. Why else would they come back to Beacon Hills? The daughter wouldn’t have needed to awaken her powers or whatever if they weren’t planning on doing something with them.–

“So in conclusion,” Theo announces, “we have an eighteen-year-old siren who’s just come into her powers. And her mother, who has drowned god knows how many people in her lifetime and may have a ton of power. Both of them are now running—or swimming—around Beacon Hills for who knows what.”

“I guess so,” Liam answers worriedly.

–Since we’re summarising the situation, can we also summarise what we know about sirens?– Mason asks, –It all just seems like a jumble right now.–

“Okay, so we know they are protectors and nurturers of sacred water, and they’re not supposed to use the power of the water itself.” Liam begins.

“Right, and the more people they drown, the more powerful they become. Their song gets more potent, but they may become physically stronger too.” Theo adds.

–Hate that.– Theo can hear Mason’s shudder even through the phone.

“And having no water drives them insane, which also means they can’t sing. Which doesn’t really help us ‘cause we can’t drain the lake, it’ll affect the Nemeton’s protection over Beacon Hills.” Liam finishes.

“What about the Bestiaries?” Theo asks, realising that all the information they had was from their own research, experience, hunters, and Peter.

–We’re running it now. Should have a translation in a few days.–

“Running?”

–Yeah, Corey’s been taking a computer programming class. He wrote a code to translate the text from Ancient Greek to English, or something like that. I don’t know, it was a long explanation. Still needs some tweaking, but it’s mostly done.–

Theo feels his eyebrows raise, impressed. He tells the human so. “Tell him I’m impressed.”

–He’ll be thrilled. He’s always wanted your approval.– Theo just rolls his eyes, holding in a hiss of pain as he starts to rewrap his shoulders with strips of an old t-shirt.

***

“We could see if the motel has any type of first aid kit, but somehow, I doubt it.” Derek says skeptically as they stand in the parking lot of the motel, Theo feeling woozy now due to all the blood loss.

“Uh huh.” Derek and Liam turn just in time to see him wobble, the beta immediately grabbing Theo’s arm and slinging it over his shoulder. “I don’t need—”

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Derek states, a furrow starting to form between his brows. 

“It’s the blood loss. Wounds’ not healing.” He mumbles.

“Yeah, and you lost a lot yesterday, too. Your body probably wasn’t fully replenished yet.”

“See,” Theo gestures at Liam, “Biology class.”

Liam just gives him a warning look, hefting him up higher.

“I don’t think he can drive you back tomorrow. The wounds will probably start scabbing by the time we’re ready to leave, but he’ll open them back up on the way back.” Derek tells the younger wolf.

Theo’s half-closed eyes shoot open. “I can’t afford to stay here for a few days just to heal.”

“And you shouldn’t. I don’t trust that Araya won’t come looking for you.”

“Oh, that.” He waves his hand again, causing Liam to grumble, “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything about you and the pack if they catch me.”

Derek gives him an odd look. “Right. Well, I can drive you both back to Beacon Hills, and you can come back for your tru—”

“No!” Theo jerks up, “I can’t leave my truck here!”

“It’s a truck, you can come ba—”

“No, it's my—” He pauses, stopping the words in his tracks. The blood loss was obviously affecting his ability to think clearly. “Coming back here just means exposing myself to the Calaveras again.”

Derek sighs, “I guess that’s true.”

“Actually, we can still leave in the morning like we planned,” Liam starts to say, continuing as Theo opens his mouth to protest again, “With both vehicles. I have some siren water.”

Theo and Derek blink at the beta, “You do?”

“Yeah, Mason thought it would be a good idea just in case, so we got some from Deaton. It’s not much, so it might not be enough to get the healing factor up to your normal speed, but it should be enough for us to leave in the morning.”

Theo blinks again. “I fully believe you would never have survived any of the Beacon Hill attacks without Mason.”

“You and I, both.” Liam agrees, before hefting the chimera higher up on his shoulders to get them to their room.

***

“Okay, this is going to hurt.”

“The siren water?” Theo asks from where he sits on a chair in their room. “Actually, it’s pretty soothing.”

“No, er,” Liam looks at Theo with an oddly pained look. “I meant removing your shirt and bandages so I can pour the water over your wounds.”

“Oh, right.” Theo doesn’t hesitate, simply pulls his shirt off together with the makeshift bandages, wincing and hissing through the pain.

Liam blinks at the sight.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” He finally mutters with raised brows, heading to the washroom to gather whatever he needs.

Theo’s eyelids grow heavy, only to snap open at the sound of Liam returning.

“This part will definitely hurt.”

“Just do it,” Theo tells the beta, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, as with a tentative hand, Liam dips a cloth into the bowl of water he’s brought with him, and starts on one shoulder with a surprisingly gentle hand.

“I guess one good thing is that if you have an infection from all the crap we picked up in the desert, kickstarting your healing factor will take care of that too.”

Theo opens an eye to find Liam’s face close to his, wearing a frown of concentration as he focuses on his task. So close that Theo can hear his heartbeat without needing to search for it, can smell the salt on his skin.

“I forgot to be worried about that.”

Theo watches as one side of the beta’s lips quirk up in a half-smile, eyes flicking up to meet hazel-green ones for just a moment. “Yeah, if I were bleeding out for hours, I would too.”

Theo blinks as Liam turns away, wringing out the bloodied rag.

It’s an odd sensation, this. It’s not like Theo couldn’t have cleaned them himself. Sure, Liam had helped him up a couple of times when he was hurt by the hunters or the Ghost Riders, but cleaning his wounds? This was a different animal altogether.

Usually, he was left to crawl in a corner and lick his wounds, emerging only to get knocked back down again in service of the pack.

Even with the Dread Doctors. They’d been the ones to give him the gift of supernatural healing, too full of hubris and pride in their infallible pseudoscience to check if it worked, no matter the injury he came back with.

Like when they sent him to hunt for a wendigo as a subject of their latest experiment, and he’d ended up lying in a ditch, his insides practically hanging out of his mutilated stomach. They brought him back to the lab, roughly sewed him up, and threw him in a corner. He had been thirteen. 

And days later, out he went, back to find that wendigo.

He did, of course. Theo always learned from those mistakes.

Liam’s handful of cloth lands on his skin again, the other shoulder this time, the wetness a physical jolt back into reality.

Liam glances at his face, blue eyes concerned.

“Just er, cold.”

And just like that, it’s gone.

But even as Theo parses through his memories of the Dread Doctors, something feels… strange. The feel of a cloth, wiping and dabbing gently at bloodied, broken skin in a steady, constant rhythm, tapping against his mind. Like the movements of one brushing away the dirt from a newly unearthed discovery.

It’s not déjà vu or a memory. Just a sensation that feels like it should be familiar.

But there are no memories for him to find.

“Okay, we can do the siren water now.”

Theo watches as Liam picks up a small dropper bottle, the size of a bottle of eye drops. He raises a brow at the beta.

Liam shrugs, “It’s all I have. Deaton doesn’t have much, and we thought it would be better to save as much of it as we can for now.”

“Makes sense.”

After a hesitant pause, Liam starts to squeeze droplets of siren water on his wounds, and the calming, soothing feeling washes over him, just like it did the first time.

Theo can’t help it. He closes his eyes.

***

“Hey,” Theo wakes to a hand slapping insistently on his thigh, “You should get on the bed.”

“What?” He wearily takes in the beta, freshly showered and clean, the smell of cheap floral soap wafting off his skin.

“If you fall asleep in the chair, you'll fall over and reopen the wounds.”

Theo glances down at his shoulders, seeing the dark brown crusts formed there.

“Yeah, it started scabbing over pretty quick. Kinda anticlimactic to be honest, I thought they would have glowed or something.”

Liam watches by his bed as Theo heads over to his own, gingerly trying to get into a position that wouldn’t jostle his healing shoulders too much.

“You weren’t lying about the water being relaxing, huh? You knocked out almost instantly.”

“That might be the blood loss.”

“Mm.”

Theo watches from his oddly prone position on the bed as Liam finishes getting ready for bed, drying his hair as best he can with a towel that leaves him looking like he’d stuck his hand in a socket.

“Hey, er… thanks.”

Liam looks over at him, face carefully neutral. “Not like you could have done it yourself.”

“I mean, I could have.”

“And then reopened one wound while you tended to the other? Trying to get out of giving me a ride tomorrow?”

Theo moves to shrug, but catches it just in time. “Just so you know, I’m mentally giving you a nonchalant but charmingly arrogant shrug right now.”

“And I’m reacting with an annoyed roll of my eyes.”

Liam climbs into bed, settling back against the pillow with a soft sigh, literally wriggling his body into the admittedly decent mattress, considering their location.

Theo looks down at himself. “We didn’t think this through.” He announces.

“What do you mean?”

The chimera gestures with just his hands at his body lying on top of the covers, dried blood still covering his abdomen, jeans and shoes still on. “Would have loved a shower first.”

“Oh!” Liam sits up, “Well, I can er… do you need m—”

“No, no, you’re all settled in, wouldn’t want to impose when you’re looking so comfortable.”

Liam scowls, but it’s not with his usual heat. “Just for that, I’m going to turn on the TV at the loudest volume so you won’t be able to sleep.”

Yes, please.

“If it’s Beauty & the Beast, are you gonna end up yelling at me again?”

“You yelled first.” The beta grumbles, but picks up the remote, flicking to a random channel. “And I’ll only yell at you again if you tell me about how Chip should have a caved-in skull or something as a human.”

“Couldn’t get it out of your head, huh? How about—”

“Shut up!”

Theo lets one claw slide out of a finger and carefully presses just the tip into his palm. He closes his eyes.

After a few minutes, the audio from the TV cuts off, though he can still hear the hum of static in the air from the screen.

He focuses on his breaths and heartbeat, keeping them slow, deep, steady.

The television is switched off, and Theo’s claw slips deeper into his palm. Slow, deep, steady.

And twenty minutes after Liam falls asleep, Theo slides into his truck.

***

He’s still exhausted when he wakes up, from the fatigue of being attacked and healing, and a nightmare of the temple, where this time, it’d been him left crying, clawing, and screaming alone in a corner of a dark room.

But that’s fine, the wounds on his hands will heal before Liam even wakes up.

True enough, the beta only starts to stir when Theo exits the room after a much-needed shower, now on a mission to get coffee, his shoulder wounds now just angry red marks that would heal up fully in a few hours.

There’s a voicemail on his phone from an unrecognised number, and since only Liam and Deaton had been contacting him in recent weeks, he assumes it’s the doctor from another line.

He’s wrong.

–Listen here, you fucking asshole. You may have Liam, Mason, and Corey thinking you’re oh-so graciously helping them with this siren shit, but I remember the last time you ‘helped’. When you got into all our minds, made us sick, twisted puppets in your little game. And for what? What did you get in the end? Nothing. No one.–

–We may have brought you back, may have let you stay out since you stayed in line, and somehow Scott seems to think you deserve some sort of chance, but we remember everything. You can play along, wag your tail, and pretend to be the nice little puppy and fetch us as many sticks as you want. But it won’t make a difference.–

–I don’t know why you’re here, but I know who you are, Theo. You’re that little boy who pushed me when I was winning a race when we were six. You’re that asshole who manipulated my dad into thinking I broke Scott’s toy when it was you.–

–I know what you are, Theo. The Dread Doctors may have failed at making you their Beast, but they succeeded in making you the monster you were always going to be.–

***

Derek and Liam find Theo leaning on his truck later, arms crossed, face hard, eyes on the ground.

“There you are. Healed fine? Anyway, Stilinski called. The Water Treatment Facility in Beacon Hills got broken into. Security footage is missing, and one of the workers is missing. Alec and Nolan are going to go see what they can find, and when we’re back, we can regrou—”

“We?”

Liam pauses, startled by the harsh tone in Theo’s voice. “Um… yes?”

“I think my part in this whole thing is done, don’t you?” He raises his gaze to meet Liam’s perplexed face. “I gave you the ride you needed, saved you from being tortured by the Calaveras while they tortured me, and you got a whole bunch of new information. You don’t need me anymore, just call when you need someone to spill their blood for you again.”

“Theo? What happened?” Theo senses Derek stepping away as Liam continues. “Is this about the torture? You know we didn’t know that was going to happen. And we tried to stop—”

“But you didn’t, did you? But I stopped it when it was your turn. You brought me there, knowing the Calaveras would take me an—”

“I stopped that!” Liam snaps, confusion turning to anger. “And we didn’t know. You know we didn’t know. They asked for whoever faced the siren and—”

“The first time! You stopped it the first time. The second time, I did. I saved myself, and I don’t know why I even both—”

“I told you, we wouldn’t have left you there!”

“Because I know too much! I’m a liability!” Theo roars, pushing away from the truck toward Liam, who flinches back a step, Derek in the distance frowning hard even as he avoids looking in their direction.

Theo laughs, a broken, harsh sound. “You see? You know it. You said it yourself, I’m a monster.”

Liam’s eyes flash bright yellow. “I said that—”

“You can say whatever you want. I know you’ll never trust me, I can fucking convert to catholicism and take vows of priesthood, and you and the pack will still be there, watching and waiting.”

“Is that even what you want? Trust?”

“I don’t know what I want!” Theo snarls, his own eyes flashing their false yellow. “And I’m tired of it. Tired of everything.”

“You didn’t have to help us!”

“Didn’t I? Didn’t you say the Calaveras wanted me specifically because I saw the siren? You said I had a choice to be here. Tell me that you wouldn’t have dragged me up here against my will.”

“I said, you wanted to do something—”

“Tell me you’re not reporting my every move, my every word to your pack.”

“I— We— You know we—”

“Good. Be smart. Smarter. Don’t ever forget what I did, what I am. I killed Scott. I killed Josh and Tracey. At nine fucking years old, I killed my sis—”

Theo cuts himself off, chest heaving, the beta staring at him with a mix of rage and confusion.

“Go with Derek, Liam.” He tells him dully, “Go listen to podcasts about serial killers instead of sitting next to one.”

And he leaves them there in the dust, in the car park of the isolated motel, half its sign blinking weakly in the pale morning light.

Chapter Text

“Yes, that’s right, we only need the petals of the vervain fo—”

Theo had gone straight back to the preserve once he reached Beacon Hills, the hours-long drive done in a silent haze. A drive where Theo had to constantly bury his claws in his palms to keep himself from thinking about what Stiles had said, what he had said to Liam. What the voices, his own and everyone else's, were screaming at him within the void of his mind.

It wasn't anything he hadn’t heard before, but they’d been so loud, so repetitive — there was a sick, twisted logic in the fact that only pain seemed to quiet them; pain that was supposed to keep them all human, when he was far from it.

“—gently please, the stems are very delicate.”

The next morning, he’d gone straight to work at the Animal Clinic, diving headfirst into all the tasks Deaton had lined up for him. It wasn’t his first day, so he knew exactly what was expected of him.

Feed and water the animal patients in the back at the appropriate times, keep track of appointments, sort out the plant materials alphabetically and by harvest date, help hold down the more hostile pets, mix up herbal tinctures and other concoctions.

Deaton’s instructions were clear, direct, and simple. The structured routine was order fighting off chaos. It helped him breathe, held his heartbeat steady, and kept him busy enough that it was all that he had space for in his mind.

The two of them ended up staying late in the clinic, and by the time Theo collapsed in his truck in the forest, his exhausted body thoroughly won the fight against an unquiet mind.

“—let them know that we’re running a little behind with our earlier appointment.”

The second day was exactly the same, no surprises, nothing that could penetrate the barrier he’d erected.

Deaton never spoke about the sirens, never asked about Theo’s trip to Mexico, and the chimera was certainly not going to offer any information; it would disrupt the already precarious homeostasis of his head.

Sometimes a thought crept through the wall, but brought with it no catalysts that would upset the balance, so Theo allowed it.

Besides, it had been on his mind since the first: why had Deaton given him this job? When he’d first offered, Theo had put it down to wanting to keep him close, have an eye on him just in case. It was a win-win situation on both sides: an assistant for Deaton, money for Theo. 

But Deaton’s behaviour toward Theo had gone beyond that. Every day, he ordered lunch delivered, claiming that since he was already planning to, it made sense to get something for Theo so he could hit the minimum amount. And whenever they stayed past closing, which happened frequently, he did the same with dinner.

He even let Theo use the shower in the clinic — initially, when a dog had thrown up all over him, though he’d implied Theo was welcome to use it anytime he needed, like before he left for the night.

“—you can fill up the prescription while I finish up here.”

And while he hadn’t probed into the Mexico-siren situation, was it because he’d already heard about it from Liam? Or had he noticed Theo’s uncharacteristic reticence and answered it with distance?

No, he can’t put Deaton’s motivations down to simply needing assistance or keeping him close anymore.

Oddly, he doesn’t feel more uncomfortable not having a definite answer or even just a solid guess. But the doctor hasn’t done or said anything at all for Theo to feel suspicious, so the chimera is happy to maintain the balance both in the clinic and his head. It gets him paid (and therefore fed and warm), after all.

The third day starts the same way. Until it doesn’t.

“Theo,” He looks up from where he’d just finished cleaning out some empty jars, “Come for a minute, please.”

He follows the doctor into the backroom where the dogs are kept, toward the slightly larger and spacious kennels right at the end of the room.

Deaton approaches a cage in the farthest corner of the room, housing a shabby dog with fur so matted and dirty, Theo can barely make out the colours of its fur, only the clear, light blue of its eyes. It hunches in the corner, rising on its haunches and snarling with bared fangs.

“What happened?” Theo asks, unable to take his eyes off the poor, shaking figure.

“Someone found her this morning in an abandoned lot. She bit the guy who called. Even got me too.” Deaton rolls up his sleeve to show Theo a bandage on his upper arm.

“Oh. Do you need help wrangling her out of the cage or something?”

“Or something.” He gestures for Theo to stand back, placing his hand on the latch of the kennel. “I haven’t been able to calm her down.”

Theo looks at him, bewildered. “And you think I can help with that?”

“What do you smell, Theo?” Deaton asks, ignoring his question.

“She’s obviously angry.”

“She looks angry. But what do you smell?”

Theo sighs, but does as the doctor asks. “Anger,” He says pointedly, but frowns as he makes out other emotions. “She’s scared. Also confused and lost.”

“That’s right. She was suffering when we took her from the lot, but it was the only home she knew.”

“Okay, and? I don’t understand what you want me to do.”

“Try and calm her down.”

This was where he’d probably get a little doubtful, ask more questions, get a good gauge on the situation before agreeing to anything.

But Deaton unlatches the kennel.

Theo immediately tenses, but the dog doesn’t come any closer, only growling louder, plastering herself to the back of the cage, as if trying to put as much distance between them as possible.

“What should I do?”

Deaton walks toward Theo. “What do you think you should do?”

He gives the doctor an exasperated look, but tries something he remembers Scott doing before, flashing his yellow glowing eyes at the feral dog. It does nothing.

“It’s not working. I’m not an Alpha. Or a werewolf.”

“Get closer.” Theo hesitates, but takes a few steps forward, the dog reacting immediately, snarling and snapping in his direction. “Meet her on her level.”

The chimera tilts his head. “What?”

“Get down. Let your eyes be at the same level as hers.”

He does, and flashes them again. “Still nothing.”

“Now sit and wait.”

“What? You want me to ju—” The doctor leaves the room, leaving Theo crouching near the door of the dog’s cage. Not knowing what else to do, Theo does as the doctor ordered, sits.

For a long while, she continues to growl, gnashing her fangs threateningly. But eventually, she starts to quieten down a bit, ears still flat against her head, though her bright eyes never leave him. She dares a few steps forward, and Theo takes in a sharp breath in anticipation, only to watch her retreat with a snarl.

But not long after, she quiets again, moving a few steps away from the wall.

“Here.” Theo turns at Deaton’s quiet whisper, seeing him crouching nearby behind another kennel, holding out a small dish of dog food.

“What do I—”

“I told you, sit and wait.”

So he does, placing the dish on the floor and pushing it toward her as far as he can without getting up. The bowl waits there, an offering perfectly halfway between the two of them. Her nose twitches immediately, ears pricking, eyes darting down toward the bowl then back to Theo’s face, once, twice, three times.

Maybe he shouldn’t watch her. Maybe that was threatening. Theo lets his eyes rest on the bowl, even though every twitch and movement in his periphery makes him want to look up.

So slowly, the dog begins to creep forward, withdrawing after every few steps at any perceived threat, even though Theo barely even breathes, making tiny bits of progress toward the chimera.

With bated breath, Theo watches as she finally reaches the bowl, only to be disappointed as she pulls the bowl back into the kennel, eating inside the cage. At least she’s not in the farthest corner this time. The poor girl eats so quickly, opening her jaw so wide, as if she’s afraid the offering of food would be snatched away. Her eyes remain on Theo the whole time, little growls escaping even as eats.

Theo feels almost proud that she’d taken the risk to come out of the cage. Was it the hunger, he wonders. Had it overtaken all sense of instinct and self-preservation? Had it been worth the chance?

“What happened to you, girl?” He asks as softly as he can, and though the dog tenses, she doesn’t stop eating.

Too quickly, she’s done, and back in the cage. Theo turns around slowly to look for Deaton, only to find another dish of food, along with a bowl of water where the doctor had last been.

He takes the food, putting it where the first had been. It doesn’t take as long this time, the dog emerging from the kennel to eat, only not pulling it inside. She eats the same way — cautiously.

How long has she been hungry? Left alone to fend for herself? What tragic and terrible things could have made her so angry, so afraid? Where had she been before Deaton had found her?

“Is this helping?” He finds himself asking her, only to get a growl in return.

Eventually, Theo places the bowl of fresh water in front of his screaming, folded legs. He risks looking at her this time, and a little light grows in Theo’s chest when she doesn’t press herself into the corner of the kennel as their eyes meet.

She takes the longest this time. Creep, retreat. Growl, quiet. Always watching.

Theo waits until his muscles begin to protest, pins and needles forming, but he doesn’t move.

And then, she drinks.

A small puff of air escapes Theo’s mouth, a release, relief, something, but even as she tenses at the sound, she doesn’t stop.

“I hope you feel better, girl.”

This isn’t trust, not when the dog still smells of fear, still keeps her eyes on him, still retreats more than she goes forward, but it’s progress.

When she’s done, she goes backwards quickly, half her body now back in the cage, though blue eyes never let go of their target.

With an agonising slowness, Theo lifts a hand, reaching for her. She goes even farther back, growling, and Theo drops his hand.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

She needs to make the first move.

Theo places his hands on his knees, palms up and relaxed, eyes closed. If Theo thought waiting for her to dare to get food and drink took a long time, this was even more protracted.

He wonders if his legs will even work after this. He wonders why he doesn’t just get up and leave, since she’d already been fed and watered. He wonders if what he’s asking from her is too much.

A light cold graze, a tentative sniff, then only distance.

A brush of a scared but curious nose onto aching, lonely fingers, then only air.

A touch that joins two broken souls for a fleeting moment. A shifting in an unknown universe, a change unacknowledged by the world.

Theo opens his eyes, finding her standing before him with wary blue eyes, her snout still close to his open hand.

Two infinitesimal movements that cross the largest gulf that no one else can see.

They stay like that for a long moment, Theo’s hand barely resting on the dog's face. He risks a movement, a small, gentle stroke of fingers. When she doesn’t leave, he continues, doesn’t stop, as she slowly lowers herself to the ground by his feet, while hazel-green eyes stare transfixed at the hand on a small, vulnerable head.

“What do you smell now?” Deaton’s voice asks, a whisper from somewhere behind him.

“She’s not angry anymore. But…”

“But?”

“She’s still confused and lost, but she doesn’t smell as scared anymore.”

Theo swallows against the uncomfortable lump in his throat that had appeared out of nowhere.

“She may not have recognised you as a werewolf, Theo, but she recognised you as a person.”

He hears Deaton leave as quietly as he had come.

Theo doesn’t know how long he sits there, how long the feral dog lies there just close enough for him to keep stroking her, how long until she falls asleep.

He doesn’t know how long it takes until his eyes are dry again.

***

Much later, Theo emerges from the back room. Deaton looks up from the book he’d been reading at the table with a small smile, gesturing to the brown paper bags before him. “I ordered us dinner.”

“Again?” Theo asks, but sits down anyway, starving.

“You should name her.”

Theo looks up with a mouth full of noodles. “The dog?”

“Yes, she’ll be here for some time. We have to socialise her a bit, treat her for any injuries she may have, get her vaccinated and all that. You might as well give her a name.”

“Where will she go after?”

“Well, hopefully someone will adopt her. But if not, to the pound, where someone could still give her a home. But that will all take some time, especially the socialising. After facing trials and hardships, dogs —and really, all living things— often regress, even after taking steps forward. Progress is never as simple as a straight line; it's an arduous twisting road that seems harder than it should be, but still leads onward nonetheless.”

“I see.” Theo swallows.

“So, any thoughts on a name?” Deaton reminds him.

“Max.” He says automatically.

“Max?” Deaton asks with a questioning smile.

“Well, Maxine, I guess. But Max will do too.”

“It’s a nice name. Did you choose it for anything in particular?”

He nods. “Max, from Where The Wild Things Are.”

“Ah, a classic. A favourite from childhood?”

“I…” He remembers the book clearly, the whimsical drawings, the creatures, the story of a boy who follows freedom, fun, and power to a new world, only to find himself longing for what he’d left behind. He doesn’t remember when or where he’d ever read it. “I think so? I remember it, at least.”

“I see.”

For a while, they eat in silence, enjoying noodles, stir-fried vegetables, and more.

“So, would you like to have a conversation now?”

Theo opens his mouth, immediately ready to snap a denial, only for the words to sink in. It’s a choice, not a demand.

“You can pick the topic,” Deaton adds, sensing his hesitation. “We’ve only been speaking when necessary while working these past few days, which I’m happy to continue. Only the meals have been silent too, which can get a little boring, if I’m honest.”

“Have you heard from the pack on any developments with the Water Treatment Facility worker?”

Of all the words Theo thought he’d say at this moment, he would never have predicted asking about all the shit with the sirens. The question had just fallen out the moment he opened his mouth.

“Water Treatment Facility worker? Were they killed?”

“I don’t— you don’t know? They haven’t updated you?”

Deaton picks up a wonton, “No, they typically don’t involve me until it becomes necessary.”

“You mean they only come to you when they need healing or information.”

“For the most part, yes. Not that I really blame them — I’m a veterinarian and druid, not a fighter or strategist.” Deaton tells Theo, no resentment in his voice. “And while it would probably be helpful to keep me in the loop, sometimes it can be hard to remember all the different players one has on the board. Especially for teenagers who already have so much going on: school, family, jobs, romance. Liam, Mason, and Corey also have college and the like to worry about.”

“It just seems rather short-sighted. You’re a… uh…”

“Valuable asset?” Deaton finishes for him with a small smile.

“Well, yeah,” Theo admits sheepishly. Those had been the words that had come to mind.

“Mm, I’d normally be inclined to agree with you, but in this case, I know woefully little about sirens. I daresay you probably know more, especially from your recent trip.”

Deaton doesn’t give Theo any knowing or encouraging looks, doesn’t change his conversational tone, leaving it all up to Theo.

The pack would come by eventually, when they got stuck or needed some more siren water. He doesn’t have to say anything.

But he does, before he can even think about whether he truly wants to or not. He tells Deaton all they’d found out, carefully skipping over the torture, almost being captured, and… everything else unrelated to the sirens.

“Hmm. So the prevailing theory now is two sirens, one of which used to be in Beacon Hills.”

“Yeah. Do you think that’s the one your mentor knew?”

“I cannot say with any certainty, but I’ve been looking into it.” Deaton frowns slightly, “Kya, my mentor, she left all her possessions to me upon her death, but the nature of our work requires us to be extremely careful. Some things are in code or hidden in other places. I’ve found most of them over the years, but any records about sirens are still eluding me.”

“The Calavera’s mentioned sirens tend to be very secretive, only interacting with others when they absolutely need to.”

“Yes, and I imagine that’s why Kya kept her information so well-hidden. I don’t think the sirens would have been happy if anyone simply stumbled upon her cache.”

“Right. So you’ll uh… update Liam and the pack once you find anything?”

Deaton studies Theo carefully. “I will. Would you like me to keep you in the know too?”

Theo lets his lip curl. “Nah, I’m sure Liam will come running once they need another guard dog.”

With narrowed eyes and a tilted head, Deaton asks the chimera, “Is that how you see yourself, Theo? A guard dog?”

“Isn’t that all I am to them?” There’s no lack of bitterness in his voice. The experience with Max and Deaton’s soft, encouraging manner had somehow disarmed the chimera, and he found himself too tired to resist.

“The way you see yourself, the way you think they see you, and how they actually do could all be separate, different things.”

“Is this where you tell me about whatever you were trying to teach me with Max? What, did you specially go out this morning to find a feral stray?”

Deaton quirks his lips. “I must say, it’s refreshing to have someone who picks up on metaphors rather than needing everything spelt out. But no, I truly was called out this morning — it was a happy coincidence."

Theo raises an eyebrow. “There’s a veiled insult towards Scott in that statement, I’m sure of it.”

“You know him. Good heart, good intentions, but quite a dense boy sometimes.”

It’s a light-hearted moment, a small smile exchanged between two people who aren’t just employer and employee, nor merely acquaintances.

“So, who are Max and I supposed to be in this equation?”

“You should know me well enough by now to know I’m not just going to give you a straightforward answer.”

Theo gives the doctor an unamused look before picking at the remnants of food on his plate.

“But neither side really fits the bill, does it? I’m not exactly Max, because I’m not innocent, but both of us have caused pain and are still capable of it. And the pack is fully aware of that too, and instead of being patient, they’re doing the opposite.”

“They’re actively pushing you away?”

“They can’t exactly push me away if I don’t know what I want my relationship with them to be, or if I even want one to exist.”

Deaton tilts his head, looking at the chimera, “Just because things aren’t moving towards each other, doesn’t mean the distance between them can’t get further apart.”

“I get it, you know,” Theo exhales, “I know they’re suspicious because they don't know why I’m still here, and whatever answer I give them will never satisfy them. I don’t blame them, I know what I’ve done. But I don’t have an answer — not even for myself.”

“It must be exhausting.”

Theo lets out a low, dark chuckle, voice laced with a grim edge. “Chasing after something when I don’t even know what it is, or if I even want it? Yeah.”

“Actually, I meant being on this journey of figuring out who you are, what you want, and where you’d like to be, only to have others decide that they know all those things about you already.” 

That’s exactly what it is, exactly what he’s feeling. The exhaustion of fighting battles both within and outside of himself, for some end that’s unknown in all facets of the word.

“So you’re telling me I should exercise patience?” He asks the doctor.

“It’s a worthy trait for anyone to have.” Deaton’s emphasis is clear. The doctor continues, “People are complex. Situations are complex. Sometimes we occupy more than one space at a time. Just because there were two distinct positions between you and Max doesn’t mean everything is that clear-cut with you and the pack, or even within yourself. Especially after everything you’ve all been through.”

Theo smiles almost wistfully, “‘Do I contradict myself?’” he recites, “‘Very well then I contradict myself.'”

“‘I am large, I contain multitudes.’” Deaton finishes, looking a little impressed, “You’re a reader of Walt Whitman?”

“I remember parts of Song of Myself.”

“It’s fitting. Like I said, people are complicated. And so our motivations are too.”

Theo eyes Deaton suspiciously. “Is this your way of trying to get me to talk about why I’m here, why I’m helping the pack?”

Deaton looks at Theo gently, calmly. “Only if you want to.”

Theo sighs. “Like I said, I still don’t know. Maybe I haven’t been thinking about it enough, pushing it away. Or maybe I’ve been thinking too much. All I know is that I want to do something. I don’t know what and why.”

Deaton nods thoughtfully. “Perhaps you can approach it from another perspective.”

“What do you mean?”

"Instead of focusing on what the 'something' is and why you want it, maybe think about what’s preventing you from finding the answer."

Chapter Text

“Good morning, Maxie.” Theo speaks in hushed tones as he approaches the kennel where Max is lying down. She gets up immediately, watching him cautiously, though she doesn’t start growling.

“I’ve got your breakfast, girl.” Unlatching her cage, he leaves a dish of food a few paces from the door, before taking some steps back and sitting down.

Just as the days before, it takes some time for her to emerge, though every day that gap gets smaller. Max eats carefully before laying near Theo again, letting him pet her, while he murmurs nonsensical soothing words.

Once she seems more comfortable, he starts on his next task, something Deaton and Theo had agreed that she was finally ready for: very gently wiping her down with a damp cloth, and only as much as she allows.

Turns out, she allowed quite a bit, as long as Theo didn’t move too quickly or made too much sound. It’s a gratifying moment for him to see her ease with him slowly grow. The colours of her fur emerge: black, with accents of white and brown.

Just a few days ago, he could barely do more than stroke her lightly with his fingers. It’s a beautiful thing, he thinks to himself, to see this little creature unlearn the facets of her fear, to go towards the potential of pain and darkness and see what else she can find there. Maybe it's a reminder — that sometimes it’s worth the risk, that there could be room for something else to grow.

“Max is going to be a gorgeous dog once we get her fully cleaned up.”

Theo looks up to see Deaton at the door. The chimera beams, actually beams at him, the expression overtaking his face before he could stop it, effused with a quiet kind of delight, a small peace. The doctor can’t help but return it.

“What breed is she?”

“Bernese Mountain Dog.”

“Wow,” Theo turns back to Max, her eyes clear and looking right at Theo’s face as he scratches behind her ear. “You sound like you like the outdoors too, Maxie.”

“Oh, she probably does. The breed was originally bred for work in the Swiss Alps, but they’re mostly companion dogs nowadays. They do still enjoy a nice hike or walk.”

“Mmhmm.” Theo’s barely listening, content to simply be with this creature, this beautiful girl who now looked at him with more trust than suspicion.

“They’re known to be a very loyal and affectionate breed to their owners, even protective despite the gentle temperament they usually display.”

“Uh huh.” Max flops her head, touching the side of her face to the side of Theo’s knee, and the chimera has to suppress the urge to coo.

Deaton chuckles. “Your productivity rate is going to drop terribly while she’s here, isn’t it?”

Theo throws Deaton a mischievous smirk, hand still happily stroking Max. “You’re the one who said we need to socialise her. I’m just doing my job.”

Deaton shakes his head but smiles, nonetheless. “Here,” bending down, he slides over a small plastic packet. “I brought you some treats to give her. We can use those to see if she knows any basic commands.”

“Like sit, paw, all that?” Theo asks as he opens the packet, Max immediately alert.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, girl,” He picks up a pungent yellow nugget, waving it in front of her nose. “I know you’re a smart one, I can see it in your eyes. Game recognises game, so let’s prove it, okay? Sit.”

Max looks between the treat and up at Theo’s face.

“Come on, Maxie. Sit.”

She sits. Theo offers her the treat, letting it sit on his open palm, and after a brief hesitation, she takes it.

“Oh, I knew it, Max! I knew you were a clever one.”

“Try paw.” Deaton requests from behind him.

He does, and she obeys, receiving the prize of a treat and effusive praise from a thrilled Theo.

“Good girl, Max!” Her tail starts to wag, and he rewards her with another treat. Because why not.

“She might have an owner.”

That gets Theo’s attention. “What?”

“She had to have been trained to know those tricks, even basic ones.”

Theo scowls, “So she used to have a home.”

Max seems to sense his consternation, ears flattening and eyes darting about the room, but Theo scratches her behind the ear again, calming her down with soothing words.

“Do you think she was abandoned? Or abused?” He asks Deaton, keeping his voice light.

“It’s hard to say. Dogs run away, people have to let go of their pets for various reasons.”

“It still sounds irresponsible.”

“I agree completely. But it’s no use speculating. We can only focus on her now. Though once she’s better with people, I’ll check for a microchip.”

“The only reason I’ll accept,” Theo tells the slow tail-wagging Max, “Is if your owner died and you had to go fend for yourself in the big bad world.”

“Theo, you’re going to have—”

The ring of the bell above the front door stops Deaton short, both he and Theo looking at each other.

“We didn’t have any appointments this morning, did we?”

The word ‘we’ settles warmly inside Theo, right next to the cosy little ball of light that had been housed in his chest since Max had tentatively started eating the food he’d offered that first evening.

“No,” He replies, “I checked.”

“Okay, can you please attend to them?”

“But—” It’s the first time he’s ever protested a request from the doctor.

“Max will be here when you get back, Theo,” Deaton tells him indulgently, “Besides, she should get used to other people besides you.”

“Alright.” Theo reluctantly agrees with a grumble in his voice, though he knows the doctor is right. Soon, Maxie will be happy and healthy, and going home to someone who will love her the way she deserves, someone who will understand all the things she’s gone through, and create the best environment for her to thrive in.

But hopefully, not that soon.

***

“Hello?” Theo calls as he steps out from the back. “Sorry, we were in—”

He stops himself as he sees the person waiting there.

A girl, close to his age, not someone he recognised. And ethereally beautiful.

A long, thick, dark brown braid sits over her shoulder. Her clear, creamy skin is just a touch too tan to be considered pale, with contrasting dark brown eyes set into small almond shapes that tilt up at the ends, perfectly framed by lush, dark lashes and delicately arched eyebrows. Pink lips, just shy of being too full, curve up into a hesitant smile as she catches his gaze.

Her eyes are wide, a look of surprise on her face as she takes him in.

Oh, he could work with this.

“Hi, I’m Theo.” Theo assaults her with a disarming smile that he knew always worked, lips quirked just a little higher on one side, eyes crinkled with a hint of mischief. He reaches over the counter between them, offering his hand. “And you are?”

She blinks, looking down at his hand, then back up at his face. He lets his smile widen a little, like he was charmed by her tongue-tied reaction.

“Oh. Sorry, I’m Lyra.” Her voice is melodic and lilting, warm and rich, with a huskiness to it, though her tone is tentative.

“Hello, Lyra.” He shakes her hand, holding it a touch longer than anyone normally would, not too long that his intentions would be too obvious, but just enough to have her questioning the moment. “What can I do for you today?”

“I know I don’t have an appointment, but I was just so worried about Guojiu.”

“That’s perfectly fine. Who or what is… Guojiu?” He attempts to pronounce what he assumes is a name, butchering it entirely.

“My Discus fish, Guojiu.” She bends down, picking up a small tank, setting it onto the counter. A striking blue and yellow fish swims around in the water, almost sluggishly.

Interesting.

Lyra continues, “I’m worried about all eight of them. I don’t know if it’s their water or the move, but they seem to be so tired, and they keep swimming up to the surface. I only had the one portable tank, and Guojio seemed to be doing the worst of them, so he got the ambulance ride.” She pauses. “Well, car ride.”

Theo latches on to a particular word instantly, a fuel to the flame of his already rising suspicion.

“Oh, welcome to Beacon Hills. You have eight fish?”

“Yes, I named them all after the Eight Immortals from Taoist mythology, though people usually just stare at me when I mention that.”

“Isn’t Taoism a religion?”

Lyra perks up, eyes bright with something — not excitement, exactly. “Yeah! Not that I practice, but it was always important to my grandmother to stay somewhat connected to my roots. So I have Guojiu here, and Tieguai, and Xiangzi, and—” She suddenly stops, blinking like she’s just now registering Theo’s presence. “Wait. You probably don’t care about all these weird, unpronounceable names.”

Theo lets himself chuckle, “No, no, it’s interesting. But your family named you Lyra?”

“Yeah.” She presses her lips together. “They’re very contrary. They made me name my pets after Taoist mythological figures but gave me some random white name.” A pause. “No offense.”

He lets out another strategic small laugh, grinning down at her. “None taken, I think. Anyway, let me check with the doctor. I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Sure. I’m sorry for just dropping by without an appointment. It’s been a bit hectic.” She glances around, then back at Theo. "So you’re not the doctor? I thought you looked kind of young." Another pause. “No offense.”

For some reason, he'd been expecting sirens to be mysterious, graceful, and powerful, altogether forgetting that they were also human. This one, at least, seemed more awkward than fearsome. But that didn't mean she wasn’t hiding the potential to be dangerous — Theo knows that all too well.

“No, I’m just his assistant.” He gives her another blinding smile. “Anyway, let me check with the doctor. I’ll be back in a sec.”

He doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that he’s caught her off guard. But he does anyway, her brown eyes widening as he grins at her, pretending to be a little reluctant to leave her presence.

***

“Deaton,” Theo hisses from the door of the back room, where the vet was blissfully petting Max. “There’s a girl.”

“Uh, just a girl?”

“She has one of her pet fish with her,” Theo says dismissively, “Which could be significant, but more importantly, she’s new to town. And is extremely pretty.”

“Many people have been moving to town lately because of the new country club that’s being built.”

“Deaton, you don’t understand. I have never seen someone that beautiful before. She almost made me stop in my tracks.”

Deaton looks over his shoulder, giving the chimera a slightly bemused look. “So, you think she’s the siren?”

“I’m saying I would add her to my list of suspects. Which currently stands at one.”

Deaton stands, turning around to study the chimera. “Is the fish unwell?”

“Yeah, she said all of her fish are. But—” Theo answers impatiently.

“Do they live in the same tank?”

“Why are you—” He stops, “I didn’t think to ask.”

“A lesson for next time, then.” Deaton says as he ushers Max back into her kennel.

“Are you just going to ignore that she may be the new siren?”

“Yes, until proven otherwise. Though the pack would probably want to know, despite the very circumstantial evidence.”

“I don’t—” Theo pauses, “I’m not involved in that right now.”

“And yet,” Deaton shoots Theo a pointed look, “You jumped to the siren conclusion very quickly.”

“Well, it’s good to know who to be—” Theo cuts himself off again at Deaton’s expression. “We should just be careful, that’s all.”

“I’m always careful, Theo, and I assumed the same of you.”

“Exactly, so—”

“Theo.” Deaton’s firm tone makes Theo cut himself off. “Let’s not jump to too many conclusions. You know, you remind me of— never mind. Let’s go see about a sick fish.”

Stiles. Theo knows without a doubt that that’s what Deaton had been about to say.

It’s not an unfair comparison. Stiles has always been smart, watchful, and paranoid, but his instincts were almost always spot on. Without those traits, the pack probably would never have gotten as far as they had. They need someone like that.

Still, the reminder of Stiles and all that he represents stings.

***

“Hey Lyra,” She looks up from where she’d been sitting in the waiting area. “Good news,” He gives her another charming smile. “Dr. Deaton has some time to see you and Guojiu now.”

“Oh, good. Thanks.” She moves toward the counter, heading towards the swing gate, reaching out with a hand that Theo watches carefully. If she were a siren, she wouldn’t be able to break the mountain ash barrier embedded into the building.

“Guojiu!” She turns abruptly, grabbing the small tank from a coffee table, holding it carefully with two hands. “I am a mess. Sorry, do you mind?”

Theo sighs inwardly, but opens the gate. He’d been so close.

***

“Lyra, are all of the fish in your tank exhibiting the same symptoms as Guojiu here? Gills moving rapidly, and swimming closer to the surface of the water?”

“Yes,” Theo watches from the door as Lyra stands by the examination table with Deaton nodding. “All of them, though sometimes they do swim near the filter too.”

“I see. And this water Guojiu is currently in, was it taken from your tank at home?"

“Oh. No.” Lyra places a hand on her mouth, fingers with short natural nails worrying her bottom lip. “I didn’t think to bring the tank water. Besides, I changed it just this morning. Do you think that was the cause? Or could it have been the stress from the move?”

Deaton gives the girl a small, reassuring smile, “I’m beginning to suspect it might be a bit of both. Did you give them a lot of food to tide them over during the move?”

“Yeah, the movers said they wouldn’t be able to do it, so I was worried they’d go hungry.”

“And did you change out their water immediately upon their arrival?”

“Well, no, I got really busy helping my grandmother settle in. We only got here four days ago, and I had to start school the morning after we arrived. But I did continue to feed them, and then—”

“Lyra,” Deaton interrupts her gently, “When did you first change the water?”

“This morning. But it wasn’t murky or anything like that. Just a little bit dirty.” She winces, “I should have done it earlier, right?”

Deaton nods, but keeps a soothing expression on his face. “That would have been good, yes, but I understand how demanding a move can be.”

She sighs. “I should have been more careful.”

“You know better for next time.”

“So, basically the water was dirty and didn’t have enough oxygen?”

“Exactly. Certain chemicals are released in water as natural materials decompose, and those natural materials can be found in both food and waste matter.” Deaton looks over at Theo, as if checking if he was absorbing this lesson, “The chemicals build up and cause oxygen depletion.”

“And if I had just waited a few hours after changing their water, I wouldn’t have needed to make this trip,” Lyra says with another sigh. “And I wouldn’t have run that red light.”

Theo purses his lips, fighting back a laugh. His suspicions haven’t changed, but there’s something oddly intriguing about the petite girl.

***

Theo and Lyra head back to the waiting room, where Theo again has to open the gate for the girl carefully carrying her tank.

She turns after she crosses the barrier. “Please thank Dr. Deaton again for seeing me on such short notice. Or seeing Guojiu, actually. I really appreciate it. And I guess, thank you too.”

Theo shakes his head with a small smile. “It was no trouble. Just remember to keep their tank clean.”

“Oh, a lesson I will not be forgetting anytime soon.” She heads toward the door, Theo watching her carefully, until she turns back. “I hope this isn’t a weird question but…”

The chimera raises his eyebrows in a slight, encouraging gesture.

“Do you go to Beacon Hills High?”

“I used to.”

“You graduated.”

“Not exactly.”

“Are you like taking a break or something? For work?”

“Or something.” Theo says, letting a guarded expression pass over his face.

Lyra shifts on her feet uncomfortably. “I’m being very intrusive and rude, I’m so sorry. I’ll just… go then.” She makes to push open the door with her hip, but Theo stops her.

“Why do you ask?”

She looks over her shoulder at him, at the careful, curious look that he has placed on his face. “I just thought if you went there too, I could maybe say hi or something.”

“Or something?” He gives her a small, amused look.

“Yeah. I know it takes time to make friends and stuff, and it’s only been a few days, but it’s hard being the new girl, you know?”

“I know,” He agrees in a sympathetic murmur that isn’t altogether false, “I remember what it’s like being the new kid in school. And it must be even harder since you’re starting after the semester has already begun.”

Or maybe it’s weird for her because if she is the siren, she’s returning home.

For Theo, coming back to Beacon Hills had been strange, in a way he hadn’t been expecting. At the time, he’d been so used to moving around with the Dread Doctors during their hunt for the perfect homunculus for their Beast, he thought it would be the same — just another town to infiltrate and invade.

But it hadn’t. The town had been part of a past life he’d long ago buried, only emerging because it was convenient for both the Dreads and him on their quests for power. He remembers not being rattled by the changes in the town, but instead by the things that remained the same. The old corner store where he’d used to spend his allowance on candy and soda, still run by the same old woman. The small pond in the park, inhabited by three small turtles, still there to this day.

The river. The bridge.

Theo doesn’t have a lot of memories about his former life in Beacon Hills, nothing but recognition of people and places, and sometimes, small flashes that felt more like dreams than memories, and always so fragmented that they never stay.

The only specifics that had stayed with him since he left were the river and the bridge. And now, after the voicemail from Stiles, those two incidents from their childhood friendship. They had come back to him in a rush after hearing the message — slotting perfectly in the space beside the only other solid memory he had.

Everything else remained impenetrable. And judging by what he had found so far, he didn’t want to go looking. Why remember something that is lost, gone, destroyed? Better to focus on... progress, whatever that is.

Is Lyra sifting through memories? Is she avoiding them? Or had her mother left before she was born, so this place is a fresh, clean slate for her? She couldn’t really be with her grandmother —sirens don’t live past 100 years— was it just a cover?

“Yeah,” Lyra nods, her eyebrows lifting slightly, a small, surprised smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she seemed to recognise some form of understanding on his face. “Exactly.”

Or maybe, he shouldn’t be too suspicious.

No, that makes no strategic sense.

She starts to leave again, but Theo calls out one more time, one more move up his sleeve.

“Hey, we do live in the same town.” He lets his lips curve into a smirk. “I hope I’ll see you around soon, Lyra. But hopefully under different circumstances.”

Lyra narrows her dark brown eyes, as if searching his face for something. Theo doesn’t know if she’s doing it as a siren or just a girl trying to figure out if the boy in front of her is flirting or not.

“Yeah,” she says, her voice quiet but sincere, before offering him another small smile. “Hopefully.”

And then she’s gone.

***

“You were right,” Deaton says as Theo walks back into the examining room, “She is stunning. But that doesn’t prove anything.”

“I know.”

“So what do you plan to do?”

“Go back to school, I guess,” Theo says on a groan, running a hand over his face.

“Oh?” The chimera sees Deaton’s knowing smile through his fingers, “So you’re getting involved again, are you?”

Theo gives the doctor a loaded look. “You don’t sound surprised.”

“No," Deaton replies, "Especially since the first thing you wanted to talk about yesterday was the siren issue. Something to think about, with regards to everything else we discussed previously, perhaps?”

Chapter Text

“Why did you want to meet in the cafeteria?” Mason asks as he slides into the seat opposite Theo, “It’s so loud in here.”

“That’s the point — it’s much harder to be overhead than, say, in an empty locker room or a library. Something that you and the pack should consider.” Theo answers, giving him a meaningful look.

“Yeah, we’ll take that under advisement.”

“So, what’s been happening with the sirens? Any more missing people? Did you find the water facility guy?”

Mason gives Theo a confused look. “Didn’t Liam already update you on everything?”

Theo lets out a dry chuckle, “You really think he wants to speak to me right now?”

“Did something happen?” He frowns at the chimera.

He didn’t know — how strange. But what was even stranger was the fact that Mason had expected Liam to keep Theo in the loop. Maybe even encouraged it?

Well, if Liam was going to ignore what happened in Mexico, then Theo could too. Go back to being ‘peripherally’ and ‘reluctantly’ involved, business as usual. He could just tell the pack he doesn’t trust his safety to them.

Who was he kidding — Liam would probably break his nose while telling him to back off, for good this time, and for very good reason.

“No, nothing.” Theo brushes Mason off, “Give me the update.”

Mason gives Theo one last scrutinising onceover before answering. “Nothing with the guy from the water facility. They haven’t found him, and we didn’t see anything strange at the facility either.”

Theo knits his brows as he considers this, “It’s unlikely that a missing guy is a coincidence, though.”

“That’s what we thought. Stilinski has placed 24-hour patrols at the water facility, but everything’s been quiet.”

“Too quiet.”

“Yeah. We’re worried, too.”

Theo starts to say that he isn’t worried, that this is all just to keep himself safe, but stops himself. Not because Mason wouldn’t believe him, but maybe it had all just been an excuse, maybe even right from the start. What else could explain why he kept coming back to the pack, kept getting involved?

“Anything new from the Bestiaries?”

Mason leans back, crossing his arms in a poor attempt to look intimidating. “You said you had information too.”

“You really think a whole lot of nothing about the water facility is going to make me tell you what I’ve learned?”

With a roll of his eyes, Mason starts to give Theo what he came for. “Fine. There wasn’t that much, but they did confirm the 100-year lifespan we talked about, and all the different stages — coming-into-powers, childbirth, and all that.”

“That’s it?”

“How good is your information?”

Theo smirks, leaning back in a mockery of Mason’s position, although he places his arms across the two chairs on either side of him. “It could be very good.”

The human sighs. “They told us two new things. The first is that sirens can read water.”

Theo frowns. “What does that mean?”

“We don’t know exactly, but I thought that might be how the siren by the lake figured out you weren’t human. You said it happened when she scratched you, right? Maybe she sensed something in your blood. You just confused her ‘cause you’re not a true werewolf or coyote.”

“It still confuses me. But what’s the second thing?”

“It’s not really new information, the wording was just different from everything else we’ve read before. The rest didn’t think it was important, but…”

“You think it’s something we should consider.” Theo finishes for him.

And he’s inclined to take the human seriously; he’s always recognised that Mason’s intelligence is an asset. That he’s, in a way, the Stiles to Liam’s Scott. Or rather, a diluted mix of Lydia and Stiles, with an uncanny ability to parse through information about the supernatural world, all the while still maintaining an analytical perspective.

“Yeah. All the sources we’ve heard outside the Bestiary said that sirens drown men, right?”

“Right.”

“The Bestiary said that sirens acquire souls for power, drowning them to make their abilities stronger.”

“Souls?” Theo frowns, pondering the word. “That’s specific.”

“That’s what I thought.” Mason nods, “Corey pointed out that it could mean that it’s all people, not just men, like what you figured out in Mexico.”

“That could be true too,” Theo concedes, rubbing a hand across his jaw, “Though ‘souls’ is an interesting choice of word.”

“That’s what I thought. But at this point, it doesn’t really change much.”

“Still something we shouldn’t forget, though.”

“I agree.” Mason nods, though it almost seems to pain him to acknowledge this similarity with the chimera. “So, what do you have for us?”

“I have two things too.”

Mason gives him an impatient look. “And?”

“The first is more of a suggestion, but I suspect you’ve already thought of it, since you’re the brains of your little puppy pack.”

“Wow,” Mason breathes out in mock shock, “A compliment from Theo.”

The chimera rolls his eyes. “I’m stating a fact.”

“You can call it whatever you want, I’m calling it a compliment.”

“Anyway,” He shoots the human a warning look, “I thought you might want to get a list of the 18-year-old girls who’ve just started school here.”

“Yeah, we did think of that. Liam, Nolan, and Alec have been working on it for the past couple of days.”

“Why not just ask Principal Martin for the list?”

“Liam tried that. She was reluctant, data privacy and all that, but she agreed on a compromise. If we can give her a list of names, she’ll verify if they fit the bill.”

Theo frowns at Mason. “It can’t be that long a list.”

“We’ve had quite a few new people, actually. Probably because of—”

“The new country club, I know.” Theo gestures impatiently, “But there can’t be that many new girls starting their senior year.”

“No, but it’s also not that straightforward. Some of them haven’t turned eighteen yet, some juniors could already be eighteen, and some seniors might even be nineteen."

“So have Liam and the newborns just been running around asking unfamiliar girls how old they are?”

“Pretty much.”

“How?” He asks incredulously. “Isn’t that kinda weird?”

“Yeah,” Mason agrees reluctantly, “So they’re… being a little more subtle about it.”

“How.” Theo repeats.

“They are… attempting to flirt their way to the information.”

Theo brings his knuckles to his mouth, trying to keep a straight face.

“Yes,” Mason admits in a grudging tone, “It hasn’t really been smooth sailing.”

“I would pay to see that.” Theo laughs, imagining Liam’s sure-to-be feeble attempts at flirting. The beta was earnest at best, maundering at worst.

“Anyway, we think we identified most of them already. Liam’s going to see Principal Martin after class later.”

“Can I see it?” Mason opens up the list on his phone, showing Theo four names. “You’re missing one. Lyra.”

“Who?”

“Lyra,” Theo says again, more insistently. “She came into the clinic yesterday, she said she started here a few days ago. That’s what I was going to tell you — she had a pet fish with her. And she is incredibly beautiful.”

Mason looks at Theo skeptically. “So you think she’s the siren because she’s beautiful?”

“Sirens are supposed to be beautiful!”

“Theo, look around you. For some reason, most of the people in Beacon Hills High are weirdly attractive.”

Theo glances around, realising that the human was right. “Must be something in the water.” He mutters.

“Wait, what were you doing in the clinic anyway?” Mason asks suddenly, narrowing his eyes, as if the question had only just occurred to him.

“Getting my vaccinations up to date for my coyote form.” Theo deadpans.

Theo can’t quite put his finger on why he doesn’t want the pack to know he’s now working at the clinic. He’d assumed at first that Deaton had probably told them, but Mason’s question clearly disproved that. Maybe it’s because this whole tenuous but strange relationship he has with Deaton is one of the only things he has going for him right now. And once the pack found out, that might change.

Or more likely, it would just self-destruct, broken apart by the hands of someone who has only death and pain written into his history. He might as well make it last as long as he can.

“I’ll put her on the list. What’s her last name?”

“I don’t know,” The chimera gives him a look of disbelief, “What was I supposed to do, flirt her whole life story out of her?”

Not quite — just flirt enough to pique her interest and give Theo a chance to investigate further. Definitely a more sound strategy than ‘Hey, you’re new and cute. Are you of legal age?’

“Okay, fine. I’ve texted Liam.”

“Good.” A thought occurs to Theo. “Have you not seen her around? She’s hard to miss — even her name is uncommon.”

Mason purses his lips in thought. “It’s not familiar at all. What does she look like, besides pretty?”

“Petite, kinda pale, long dark brown hair.”

“That could literally describe a third of the girls in this school.”

“She’s Asian, and I’m guessing, of Chinese ethnicity?”

“Sounds vaguely familiar.”

“Okay, come on.” Theo grabs Mason’s arm, dragging him out of the cafeteria. “We’ll find her.”

“I was hungry.” He grumbles, but lets the chimera pull him along.

***

It doesn’t take long for Theo to spot her. She’s at a corner of a quad, sitting alone at a small table, frowning at the books and papers before her.

Theo tilts his head toward the girl. “There she is.”

“Oh, her. I think I have math with her. Or chemistry? I don’t know.”

“How can you not know? Look at her, she’s gorgeous.”

As if sensing the two pairs of eyes on her, Lyra looks up, surprise passing over her face. She lifts her hand in a hesitant wave, which Theo answers with a quick but winning smile. She looks back down quickly.

“I guess she’s pretty?”

“You guess?”

“I’m gay, Theo,” Mason says dryly, “She’s not really the type of person who would get my attention. Besides, she's pretty quiet, really keeps to herself.”

Theo looks back at Lyra. She almost seemed to shrink away from the people around her, her beauty dimmed by the walls she’d put up.

“But you have eyes.”

“My eyes are not programmed to seek out pretty girls.” He retorts, but then turns thoughtful. “Though, if I weren’t gay, you know who would be my type?”

Theo isn’t sure he wants to hear the answer.

“Mara.”

“Who? Oh, the other new girl on the list?”

“Yeah. Now she’s stunning. I swear, I had to make Liam, Alec, and Nolan pick their jaws up off the floor.”

“Weren’t you immediately wary of her?”

“A little?” Theo opens his mouth to protest. “Being too suspicious isn’t always a good thing, you know. Remember what Gabe did? With Aaron, also known as the Anuk-Ite?”

He does, and Mason has a good point, though Theo being Theo would always err a little farther on the side of caution.

“And anyway,” Mason goes on, “She’s been in Beacon Hills for almost two months now. She started the semester with us, which doesn’t exactly line up with the arrival of the siren.”

“It doesn’t disprove it either.”

“We’re not not keeping an eye on her and the other new girls. Just not going to let it take over our judgement.”

“Where is she, anyway?” He asks, wanting to see this paragon of beauty for himself. Surely no one could compare to Lyra.

“Hmm,” Mason scans the quad. “Not here, come on.”

They head inside, and Theo spots her immediately, walking down the corridor towards them.

If Lyra was beautiful, then Mara was breathtaking. Tall, lean, and lithe, she moved with an effortless grace, as if gliding rather than walking. Her long, golden curls cascaded down her back, catching the light with every step, framing sun-kissed skin and amber eyes that shimmered like molten gold.

“Holy shit.” He hears himself breathe, completely unbidden.

“I told you.”

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? The Bard’s words drifted into his head, as if summoned rather than remembered. It wasn’t surprising — Mara, whoever or whatever she was, seemed to embody the sonnet itself. The warmth and gleam of an eternal summer captured in her essence.

She continues in their direction, a horde of people walking along with her, suddenly spotting Mason, favouring him with a bright smile and enthusiastic wave.

“You know her?”

“Yeah, we have History and Economics together.”

As she walks toward them, Mara’s laughter carries through the crowd. She effortlessly chats with everyone around her, moving through groups like she’s known them all her life. There’s no clique around her — just a mix of people that seem drawn to her. The flow of students part for her, not out of fear, but in the way people make room for someone whose ease with themselves makes everyone else feel a little more comfortable, too. She stops to chat with each person she meets, always exchanging a few words and a smile before continuing on her way.

It’s a stark contrast to the quiet and lonely picture Lyra had made.

“Mase! There you are!”

Mara’s voice cut through the hallway, bright and clear. Where Lyra’s voice was melodic and warm, Mara’s had a slightly higher pitch — pleasant enough, but lacking that same depth, that same resonance. It was lighter, more straightforward, almost matter-of-fact, an odd contrast to her diaphanous appearance.

She stops in front of them, a bright smile lighting up her face as she places a casual hand on Mason’s arm. “I’m so glad I saw you. I wanted to tell you — your point in class earlier? It really stuck with me. Gave me a lot to think about.”

Mason gives a small, almost embarrassed shrug. “Oh, that? I was just rambling.”

“See, that’s what I like about you,” Mara says easily, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You don’t even realise how smart you are.”

Mason shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “It was nothing.”

“Not at all.” There’s something light in her tone, like this is just how she talks to people — no effort, no agenda, though Theo gets the sense that she chooses every word with care.

Then, her gaze flicks over to him, and she offers a hand with an easy grace. “I’m Mara. I don’t think we’ve met.”

It has to be admitted that even Theo took a second to get his wits about him.

He shakes her hand, her fingers warm against his. She holds on just a fraction longer than expected — not in a way that feels odd, just… present. Attentive.

“Theo,” he replies. “You’re new to Beacon Hills High, right?”

Mara nods. “Yeah. Still getting my bearings. Mason’s been a lifesaver with that, by the way.” She nudges him playfully, and Mason huffs a laugh.

Theo notes how effortless it all is. Not forced, not calculated. She’s the kind of person you want to like, a person you want to like you back. And that makes him more wary than anything else.

“How about you?” Mara asks, no judgment in her voice, just curiosity. “Have you just started here too?”

“Actually, I might be.” Theo doesn’t miss Mason’s eyebrows shooting up his forehead in surprise.

“Nice! Well, it was really great meeting you. Sorry, I’ve got to run, but I hope I’ll see you around in class!”

And with one last twinkle of her eyes, she’s gone, floating away on some phantom wind like a regal fairy, her attendants following dutifully.

“‘You might be’?” Mason asks pointedly.

“Gotta keep an eye on the potential sirens, don’t I?” Theo replies with a grin, raising an eyebrow.

“Dammit, you’re gonna be in my classes, aren’t you.” Mason grumbles to himself before addressing the chimera. “Are you gonna flirt with all the new girls too?”

“Come on, you know I’ll do a much better job than Liam, Alec, and Nolan put together.” Though Theo does consider that Alec’s unwarranted confidence might get him a little farther than the other two. But not that far.

“I neither admit nor deny anything. But seriously, is that what you plan to do?”

“I plan to learn more about them. Flirting may or may not be a useful tool in service of the plan.”

“Well,” Mason says with visible reluctance, “It could work.”

Theo hides a smirk. “Oh really? What makes you say that?”

“You’re good with words.”

“Is that all?” Theo prods Mason.

“Ugh, you’ve seen yourself in mirrors. You know what you look like.”

Theo laughs as the human walks away from him. “I wanna hear you say it. Mason, come back! I have crippling self-doubt, tell me I’m hot!”

He’s still laughing as he heads to Principal Martin’s office, ready to plead his case. Hopefully with no flirting required.

Chapter Text

“I cannot believe I’m doing this.” Theo mutters to himself as he stands by a board pinned full of flyers and leaflets, each extolling the virtues and vacancies of the various Beacon Hills High extracurriculars — clubs, sports, culture. Honestly, theirs was a small school; did they really need this many options?

He senses more than he sees Liam approach, coming to a stop right next to him at the board, both of them facing forward, deliberately avoiding the other’s gaze.

“Joining a club?” The werewolf asks, his tone flat and face inscrutable, though Theo can smell the turmoil on him — frustration, confusion, and what seemed like disappointment.

“Oh, you know me, I’m always looking to broaden my horizons.”

Liam says nothing, which makes Theo more uncomfortable than any display of anger could. It isn’t his first day back at school. In fact, it was his third, and he’d seen Liam around the hallways, even in some of his classes, but the beta had never acknowledged him, never even looked his way. Where Mason, Corey, and even Alec and Nolan offered awkward hellos, he simply acted as if Theo didn’t exist, save for the simmering anger that was ever-present whenever the chimera was around.

“Principal Martin made it a condition when I re-enrolled.” Theo finally admits, forcing his eyes to stay on the board instead of turning to the beta.

It’d been the one condition Theo had argued vehemently against. However, Principal Martin —her expression tinged with distaste— had pointed out that it would be a waste not to strengthen Theo’s stellar academic record (half of it faked by the Dread Doctors, if he was being honest) with extracurriculars for prospective college applications.

Frankly, it was a waste of time considering that Theo needed to spend most of his free time at work (because: money) and on siren shit (because: ???). And college seemed like a ridiculously far-fetched notion for someone like him.

The other condition being that he not flick one single claw out of line, or Principal Martin would have the pack on him before he could even glow his eyes. Perfectly understandable.

But Principal Martin had threatened not to let him back into the school unless she accepted all her terms, so he begrudgingly acquiesced. She’d then kicked him out of her office with one last comment about considering Debate Club, since it seemed to come so naturally to him.

“So you’re back, then,” Liam says, a statement delivered in that same disinterested, unreadable tone. Nothing about him changes as he says it; he’s so still and expressionless, practically phlegmatic, if not for the invisible scent of his emotions.

But Theo knows what he’s really asking.

“Yes,” He says quietly, with whatever conviction someone who doesn’t truly know why they’re there can muster, “I’m back. For good.”

It's the closest Theo has ever come to admitting he wants to help. Because isn’t that what it is, what it’s always been? The hows and the whys just the outer layers of his true intentions. And for the first time, he can see the edges of it, like puzzle pieces finally starting to fit together — history, fear, and all the ashes in his wake.

A small huff escapes Liam, drawing Theo back into focus. It’s an effort not to tense up in anticipation of the verbal and physical barrage that’s sure to come from the beta. An interrogation into Theo’s motives, being bodily thrown into the lockers with accusations of being unreliable, untrustworthy, a liability. Unnecessary. Inconsequential.

It never comes.

Instead, Liam reaches a hand out toward the board, pulling down one of the fliers, before turning his body to face Theo, looking up into the chimera’s eyes with an expression as impassive as his voice.

“Good.”

He thrusts the flyer toward a dumbfounded Theo, who takes it on autopilot. Then he leaves him standing by the board, looking down at the paper advertising vacancies for the Library & Book Club.

***

“Lacrosse not enough? Thinking about joining another club?”

Lyra’s distinct husky voice interrupts Theo from his musings, although it didn’t really count as musings if he’d just been staring at the flier in his hand, the words and images blurring together. His mind keeps looping back to Liam’s voice, flat and unreadable: ‘Good.’

He shakes off the thought and puts on a practiced smile as he turns to face the girl, the charming smirk, the one that says ‘There you are, I’ve been looking for you.’

“I like to broaden my horizons. You know, try new things. Meet new and interesting people.”

As before, Lyra’s eyes widened at his words — a little bit of surprise, a little bit of doubt. But before she can speak, he continues.

“But no, actually. Principal Martin strongly suggested I join some club or something when I re-enrolled.”

“Re-enrolled? So you…” Lyra lets her voice trail off.

Theo chuckles. “Yes, Lyra, I dropped out in the middle of my senior year. Figured it was probably time to come back, especially with so many new people to meet.” He punctuates the statement with a quick raise of an eyebrow, enough that she’d again wonder if he was flirting with her.

A hint of a frown starts to form between her brows, and Theo expects her to stammer, to stutter over something that he would predictably find endearing, and allow him to respond with something teasing.

But instead, she says, “A high school diploma is a useful thing to have.”

Oh, he liked a challenge. He always overcame them. Most of them.

“Definitely handy. But let’s take a step back, you thought I was on the lacrosse team?”

“Well, yeah. You were talking to the co-captain, and I mean, you do look…” She gestures vaguely at his torso, looking as if she were regretting the words spilling from her lips. “...athletic.”

Theo grins. He’s got her right where he wants her. “I didn’t know you were looking that closely at my body. Not that I mind.”

“Oh god.” Lyra covers her face with her hand.

“I’m not really into team sports, but I do work out. In the school gym, if you wanted to get a better look.”

“This is ridiculous.” She mutters.

So predictable. She’s going to glance up at him, then away, wondering if she’s imagining his interest.

“Oh,” Theo starts, doing nothing to hide the sly smile on his face. “I wouldn’t say ridic—”

“Let me cut you off right there,” Lyra interjects, looking up at him with a determined expression, no hint of the blush that Theo had been expecting to find. “Are you flirting with me?”

That takes him by surprise. “I— yes? Was that not clear?”

“Good,” She says more to herself than him. “Thought I was reading that wrong.”

“Again, I thought I was being pretty obvious?”

“I tend not to read social cues that well.” She waves a hand dismissively. “I was homeschooled for most of my life.”

Giving more credence to the siren theory.

“But anyway, can we just not do that?”

Theo blinks. “The flirting?”

“Yeah, it’s just too much work, and I need to focus on school and my grandmother. Some friends would be nice, but I’m not looking for anything else.”

“You’re… rejecting me. Before I can even… offer?” He says dumbly, knowing how lame he sounds but not able to think of anything else. God, this is probably how Liam feels when he flirts.

Lyra tilts her head slightly, considering. “I mean… yeah? Not in a bad way, just — no thanks.”

He stares at her, caught somewhere between confusion and amusement

“Sure?” Theo finally says, only because he had no idea what else to say.

“Oh, good.” She relaxes like she’d just completed a particularly tough question on a test. “We can be friends, though. If you want. We’re in English together, and I don’t have a partner for the upcoming project yet.” A small shrug. “If you want.”

Theo exhales a laugh. “Lyra, have you not made any friends since we met at the clinic?” He sounds like a dad. Gross.

She hesitates. “Not really. I’m not great with people, and I don’t care about having a lot of friends. Just one or two is enough.” She pauses, then adds, “And you seem… nice enough.”

The words ‘nice’ and ‘Theo’ had likely never been used in the same sentence before. Except maybe ‘Theo, that guy with the nice face and body’. Or, ‘It would be so nice to punch Theo in the face.’ — direct quote from Liam, probably.

Well, if he couldn’t flirt his way into getting to know this potential siren better, friendship, however fake it may be, could work too. It’s an uncomfortable reminder of when Theo had first come back to Beacon Hills for Scott’s pack, but that had been evil for evil’s sake. This is a necessary evil. Less evil than flirting. Tactical, even. He thinks.

“Like I have a nice body?” He asks Lyra, a smirk playing on the edges of his lips.

“I said athletic.” Lyra retorts instantly. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

He laughs. “I’m just messing with you. But yeah, sure, we can do the English project together.”

“Okay, great.” She turns back to the notice board in front of them.

“So you’re looking for a club to join too?”

“Yeah,” She grimaces, “Now that I’m actually in a school, my grandmother thinks I should get the full experience, whatever that means.”

“Romantic experiences are usually a part of that.” He can’t help himself.

Lyra shoots him a look. “Is your ego wounded? Because you’re just not my type.”

“I’m everyone’s type!” He exclaims, with no little amount of indignation. Come on, even Mason had said he was hot. Somewhat.

“Not mine.”

“Then what is your type?” His ego isn’t wounded, he’s just curious. Really.

“I’m sure I’ll know it when I see it.” She brushes him off with a wave, “Anyway, is that why you were talking to the lacrosse guy? You’re gonna join the team?”

“Nah, I meant what I said. I’m not really into team sports.”

“Oh,” She pauses, reaching out a hand to finger a flier. “Then you’re friends with him? And his best friend, Mason? I saw you talking the other day.”

Theo can’t quite help the little furrow that forms between his brows. “Why? Is Liam your type? And Mason’s gay, just so you know. He’s dating Corey.”

“Yeah, I knew that.” She bends across Theo to look at another flier. “I’m just curious.”

“For someone who hasn’t really made any friends, you seem to know a lot about the people in school.”

She gives him another loaded look. “I’m quiet and reserved, not blind.”

“Touché.”

“But I’m not a stalker.” Lyra jerks her gaze back up at him, suddenly alarmed.

“Lyra,” Theo laughs again. “Relax. I didn’t even think that. I promise, if you say or do something that makes me think you’re being weird, I will tell you.”

“Okay, good.” She relaxes but sighs. “I apologise in advance, though. So what are you thinking about joining?” She gestures at the board.

“Honestly, I have no idea. The choices are kind of—”

“Overwhelming?” She finishes for him.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Why not sports though? You could do something more individual. Like cross country or something?”

“I've never been big into sports.” He shrugs. “That was always my sister.” The words spill out automatically, like those words had always been tagged to the first statement in his brain, even if he didn’t consciously remember the fact.

Flashes of what should feel like memories overtake him.

Tara, coming home with yet another trophy from a basketball match. Tara, getting a spot on the gymnastics team. Tara, trying to convince their parents to sign both her and Theo up for martial arts classes. And Theo always saying no, always wanting to just go out in the garden with his mother, always begging his father for another trip to the library. And Tara again, reaching out a hand, telling him—

“Theo?”

“Hmm?” He shakes his head, trying to focus on Lyra in front of him. What was that? “What did you say?”

“I asked what sports your sister plays.”

“Basketball. She also did gymnastics.” If that had been a memory, why can’t Theo remember any of it? Even as he tries to claw the images back into his mind, they fade away into the dark.

“Oh, cool. Does she go here?”

“No. She’s my older sister.” Who will never be older than him.

“She must be an amazing athlete.”

“Yeah.” It’s not a lie. It takes a lot of strength for someone long-dead to climb out of the ground, ready to spend an eternity clawing out her heart from a thief’s chest with her bare hands.

“So, book club then?” Theo looks back over at Lyra to find her eyes resting on the flier in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah, maybe. I like to read.”

She gives him a wry smile. “I guess that bodes well for our English project.”

Theo forces himself to give a small laugh, to return a smile with one of his own, as he tries to calm the heart in his chest. “Don’t get your hopes too high — it’s been a while. So,” He attempts to deftly change the subject. “What about you then? Any sports?”

“Nah, not for me. Never been a big sports person either.”

“No? Not swimming?”

She gives him an odd look. “Do I look like a swimmer?”

“You look like you have a tan.”

“Oh, I just like to go on walks. Drives my grandmother crazy.”

“How about,” Theo eyes the board in front of them until he finds what he’s looking for. “Choir? Or band?” He points them out to Lyra, who pulls a face.

“And perform on stage? No, thank you. But you may be on the right track.” She yanks out one of the notices on the board. “Looks like the theatre department needs crew members.”

Theo gives her a doubtful look. “You want to build sets in your free time?”

“Anything that doesn’t involve me sweating unnecessarily and/or being center stage is a win in my book.”

“I feel like you’d be doing both of those things while building sets.” He points out helpfully.

“You know what I mean.” Lyra rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but don’t y—”

“Oh, Theo!” A familiar voice rang out, clear and bright, cutting Theo off. They both turned to see Mara gliding toward them.

She didn’t hesitate. “Hey!” she greeted warmly, her smile easy and familiar, as if they’d been friends for ages. “I wanted to catch you after English yesterday, but you disappeared on me.”

“Hey, Mara.” Theo returned her smile, keeping his tone neutral. He hadn’t quite figured out his approach with this new girl. “Was there something you needed?”

“Oh, nothing important,” she assured him. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you decided to come back to school. Not that you need to hear that from me, but, you know… it’s always nice meeting new people. And Mason’s got his friend back.”

There was nothing calculated in the way she said it — just simple, open honesty.

“Yeah, figured I might as well finish up and get the diploma.”

“Good choice.” She turned then, her amber eyes flicking toward Lyra. “And you’re Lyra, right? You just started last week. We’re in English together too, I think.”

Lyra offered a tentative smile to the taller girl. “Yeah, we are.”

“Cool. I’ll make sure to say hi next time.” Her eyes register the noticeboard behind them. “Oh! Are you looking for a club to join?”

“Yeah,” Theo nods, “Might as well. What about you?”

“Nice. I’m already on the girls’ soccer team, but I’ve been thinking about trying out for the swim team too. I used to swim for my old school.”

Interesting.

Theo plucks out the relevant flier from the board, handing it to the blonde. “Here you go. Hope you get in.”

“Thanks.” Mara took it with an appreciative smile. “If either of you plans to try out, let me know. We could go together.” She flashes them another quick smile as she backs away. “See you around!”

There’s an unreadable expression on Lyra’s face as they both watch Mara leave, making a social commotion as she goes.

“You look like you have something to say.” Theo nudges the brunette.

“Nothing, really. Just that…”

“Yes?”

“I always wanted to be someone like her.”

“Someone who can reach the top shelf without a ladder?”

Lyra gives him a look of admonishment. “Is this what friendship with you is going to be like?”

He grins. “Yes. Now, what was on your mind?”

She shrugs, trying to come off blasé. “Just someone good with people like that. Making friends is easy for Mara.”

It had been easy for Theo, too.

“We all have our strengths.”

And it had been easy for him to lose them, though when it all came down to it, none of them had ever been real, and this one would be no different.

Lyra narrows her eyes at him. “If you’re gonna tell me mine is being able to reach things closer to the ground, I’m ending this friendship.”

“Oh, come on. You made a friend out of me. And I’m obviously the superior choice. Like you said, I’m nice, I have an athletic body without even trying, I’ll be such a good partner in English and—”

“I’m leaving!”

“Are you really gonna leave your new and only friend behind?”

“I’ll stick to my fish, thanks!”

***

This ‘friendship’ with Lyra is necessary, Theo tells himself as he parks in the preserve, getting ready for another restless night. She is a person on the suspect list, and short of actually stalking her, this was the best way to get close to her and figure her out.

Not that he hadn’t considered stalking as an option. Way less complicated than flirting and friendship. But with school, work, and now a goddamn book club, life is suddenly shaping up to be a lot busier than he’d anticipated. Also, stalking a siren who could hypnotise you to a watery death — not a good plan.

This ‘friendship’ is necessary.

He just wishes he could have a real one, for once.

***

A man stumbles out of bed in his cramped studio apartment, jolted awake by a violent coughing fit. He staggers toward the kitchen, wheezing with every step, fingers scraping against the wall in a desperate bid for balance. He barely manages to gulp down a mouthful of water before the tightness in his chest begins to ease.

Then, his gaze snags on something — marks gouged into the wall. His breath hitches. Slowly, he lifts his hand to eye level. Claws. Sharp, gleaming at the tips of his fingers.

***

A woman takes a slow drag from her cigarette as she drives to work, before sending the smouldering stub out the window. She reaches for the tumbler of coffee next to her when a violent cough wracks her body, so intense that she’s forced to swerve onto the shoulder, gasping for breath. Her chest burns, every inhale a battle. When it finally subsides, she slumps back against the seat, heart pounding.

Then, her eyes drop to the tumbler in her hand. Her fingers tremble as she takes it in — the metal, crushed and warped beyond recognition, her claws buried deep in the twisted steel.

***

Claws are the last thing both of them register before another brutal coughing fit rips through them.

His knees give out, and he crumples to the floor, gasping.

Her fingers grasp desperately at her throat, struggling to breathe.

Then only darkness.

Chapter Text

The sudden crash of shattering glass breaks the peaceful silence in the Animal Clinic.

Deaton whirls around from where he’d been busy putting away things, and Theo stares back at him. Wide-eyed in shock and fear, hands tipped with claws on his heaving chest, panting desperately for air in between frenzied coughs as he fights against the pressure building in his sternum.

Is this… a panic attack? It can’t be. Panic attacks are for people like Stiles and Scott and Liam and—

The edges of his vision start to darken.

“Theo!”

The last thing Theo sees is Deaton lunging toward him, too late to catch his body as he falls to the ground, eyes rolling back as darkness takes him.

***

“Theo!”

A stinging slap to the side of his face wakes him, the amount of pain radiating from his cheeks indicating that it hadn’t been the first of Deaton’s attempts to revive him.

He gasps, his breath ragged and uneven, and feels the involuntary glow of his eyes. He tries to get up, pushing himself off the floor, but his limbs fail, weak and uncooperative. Panic spikes through his chest, sharp and jarring — he needs to breathe, to get up, to make his body work.

Why isn’t it working?

Breathe. Breathe, dammit, breathe! Why can’t you get up? Move! Just take one breath, just one! Get off the floor! Why won’t you fucking move! Breathe!

It claws at his mind, move, breathe, move, move, breathe. But he can’t do it. Can’t control his own body. The simplest things. Can’t get up, can’t even breathe, can’t get up, can’t even breathe, can’t—

“Theo?” Deaton’s alarmed voice raises the chimera's eyes to meet the doctor's worried gaze.

“Can’t— breathe—” He manages to stammer out, a hoarse barely there whisper, while a hand is pressed against his chest, the other desperately scratching at his throat, his unsheathed claws drawing blood.

“Theo!” Deaton calls out again as Theo sinks further and further into his screaming mind. “Theo, your panic is making whatever is happening to you worse. You need to calm down.”

Theo only croaks, a desperate sound that does nothing.

“Try this.” Deaton urges, “Close your eyes.”

Theo feels his eyes bug out at the inane command, all the while wheezing for air, trying to get up, failing at both simple movements.

“Trust me. Please.” Deaton puts a hand on Theo’s, the one at his neck.

He closes his eyes.

“Just focus on my voice. Nothing else matters right now. I know it’s terrifying, but trust me, the only thing that’s important right now is my voice.”

Theo moves his head in a jerky approximation of a nod.

“Good.” With effort, Deaton pries Theo’s hand from around his neck, “Now, I’m going to put something in your hand. I want you to feel it, focus on it, tell me what you feel.”

Theo closes his fingers around something metallic.

“Cold.” Theo manages to grunt out.

“Good. What else?”

“Round. Smooth.”

“You’re doing great, Theo.”

By some miracle, Theo’s breathing starts to ease a tiny bit. It’s still short, still weak, but at least he can actually control some of it.

Deaton removes the object, putting another one into his hand. It’s much softer, a pliable plastic.

“Soft.”

“What else?”

“Plastic. Wet.”

“That’s right.”

Deaton repeats the process two more times, and Theo starts to come back into himself, at least partly. He can’t retract his claws, can’t stop his glowing eyes, can’t do more than take shallow breaths, but now, the breaths come when he needs them to.

He opens his eyes, the worried doctor still crouched by him on the floor, though much of his unease seems to be gone. “That’s good, Theo.” He murmurs. “You’re doing great.”

The chimera starts to push himself up, glad that it’s working this time, though he’s weak enough to need Deaton’s help to brace him against the wall.

“One more thing.” Theo obeys as the doctor leads him in a simple breathing exercise — box breathing, he’d called it, a tool to help should the panic overtake him again.

“Sirens?” He manages to ask when they’re done, Theo mentally locking the technique in his head for future reference. Just in case.

“That’s what I thought.” Deaton shows him the small empty plastic cup in his hand, his face creased with worry. “I didn’t think it would work, but I gave you some siren water when you were unconscious — nothing changed. That’s when I started to slap you.”

“Tired.” The whine in his voice disgusts him, but his eyelids are starting to droop, a burden needing to be allayed.

“I know. But you stopped breathing when you blacked out. You can’t go to sleep, Theo.”

Finally, something he’s actually good at.

Deaton watches with acute discomfort as Theo takes his hand, claws still unsheathed, and digs into his thigh. As always, the pain awakens him, and he gains a little more control, the glow fading from his eyes, though he remains breathless.

“Deaton!” Agitated voices sound from the entrance of the clinic. Mason and Nolan, Theo recognises instantly.

With one last quick worried glance at the chimera, Deaton rushes out.

“Them too?” He hears the doctor ask.

“What do you mean ‘them too’?” Mason demands, “Who else is affected?”

The doctor is saved from answering as a mass of bodies come hurtling into the room, all of them spotting Theo immediately.

“Theo?” Liam lifts his head weakly from where he’s supported by Deaton.

“Surprise.” Theo manages to wheeze out.

There’s a flash of shock across the werewolf’s face as he takes in the chimera, and even what looks like concern, though Theo puts the worry down to him being in the doctor’s presence.

Then the beta’s head lolls to the side, his own eyes glowing, claws out, chest moving in a rapid rise-and-fall. Corey and Alec look the same. Only Nolan, Mason, and Deaton are untouched. The humans.

Alec starts to fall, Nolan losing his grip on him.

“Alec!” Nolan calls out, starting to shake him.

“Don’t let him sleep,” Deaton instructs sharply, as he and Mason deposit Liam and Corey, respectively, by the wall near Theo. “They stop breathing when they’re unconscious.”

A resounding slap sounds from where Nolan and Alec are, the former clearly using the same tactic Deaton had employed.

“Exhausted.” Corey breathes, his eyes starting to close.

“Claws.” Theo grunts, lifting his hand to show them before driving them back into his thigh. Corey, Liam, and Alec, now awake, wince. “Pain. Stay awake.”

There’s a slight hesitation from the wolves before they follow suit, gasping deeply at the sting.

“Deaton,” Mason’s urgent voice sounds out, “Corey doesn’t have—”

“Here.” Theo watches, focusing on his breathing as the doctor hands a small scalpel to Mason, who in turn gives it to Corey, his fellow chimera burying it into his leg.

“Water.” Liam wheezes.

“Siren water?” The doctor asks, and Liam nods. “I used that with Theo.” All eyes flick over to him for a moment before turning back to the doctor. “It only works with open wounds from a siren’s talons. But I thought it was worth a try.”

Alec suddenly gasps, his breaths becoming quicker and shallower.

“Keep them awake.” Deaton orders, moving toward the door. “Do some breathing exercises, it helps a little.”

“Where are you—” Mason starts to ask, but the doctor is gone.

“Breathing exercises?” Nolan asks, turning to Theo. “Like the box thing?” Theo nods.

It’s a funny sight, watching Nolan and Mason lead the supernaturals in the box breathing exercise, their hands tracing the shape in the air. But Theo starts to wheeze when a chuckle threatens to escape, and ends up having to join in.

A harsh, metallic sound has all of them turning to the door, where the doctor is dragging in a small oxygen tank, with four masks.

“This should help.”

It does, but only if they keep the masks on.

“It’s the sirens, isn’t it.” Mason declares, his face and voice marked with worry, as he keeps one arm around his boyfriend, the other hand clutched onto Liam’s shoulder. Nolan, similarly, has his hand on Alec’s arm. “They did something at the water treatment facility, poisoned the water with something that only affects the supernaturals.”

“Except that not a lot of things should affect Theo and Corey.” Deaton points out. “Like wolfsbane and mountain ash.”

“Is it worse for Liam and Alec?” Nolan questions, and the humans turn to watch them for a long moment.

“No,” The doctor finally concludes. “It looks like it’s affecting them the same way: difficulty breathing, unable to control their transformations, loss of strength, and exhaustion.”

“Does that mean sirens can curse water or something?” Nolan asks.

“Maybe. Or they found something that works on chimeras, too. I guess the Dread Doctors weren’t able to rewrite all of the rules.”

Oddly enough, that seems to lift some of the phantom weight on Theo’s chest, though it doesn’t do much for his laboured breathing.

“We don’t know how long this is going to affect them,” Deaton observes. “The oxygen tank will only last for so long.”

“We can get more from the hospital.” Mason realises. “I can call Melissa and—”

He’s cut off by his ringing phone.

“It’s the Sheriff.” He taps the screen. “Hey Sheriff, you’re on speaker.”

-Can I assume you have Liam and Corey with you? What about Alec?-

“Yeah, they’re here. So are Nolan, Deaton, and Theo.”

-Theo?-

“Yeah, he was at the clinic when we got here.”

-Then I assume the same thing is happening to them.-

Mason and Deaton exchange glances, while Liam and Theo’s eyes somehow find each other, a quick flash of worry in one pair of eyes, carefully held blankness in the other, as the humans recap what had happened to each of them for the Sheriff’s benefit.

-That’s what I’ve heard from Melissa. A bunch of people have come to her with the same symptoms. All supernaturals.-

“Sheriff, you’ve probably come to the same conclusion we have.” Deaton says to the phone.

-That the sirens did something to the water to target the supernaturals? Yeah, we did.-

“What about—” Liam suddenly gasps, removing his mask for a moment. “The others?”

“Others?” Mason cocks his head.

“Supernaturals.”

-The ones at the hospital are just the ones who know about you guys and Melissa. The rest… Well, we just have to hope they can find a way to cope. They won’t come to the hospital while they can’t control their transformations. But we haven’t had any fatalities, so that’s a good sign, for now.-

“Good.” Liam breathes out before letting his head collapse back against the wall.

Theo would roll his eyes at Liam’s priorities if it didn’t feel like it’d be too much effort.

“I’ll try to work out what’s going on on my end.” Deaton tells the Sheriff.

-Great. Melissa’s working on that too from a more uh, medical perspective.-

“We still need more oxygen tanks.” Nolan suddenly pipes up. “This one won’t last them too long.”

“We should call Melissa. Or just go to the hospital to get what we need.” Mason agrees.

-Good,- The sheriff adds, -Parrish and I are headed back to the water facility to take one more look at things. Our patrols said they haven’t seen anything, but the only way the sirens could have done this is through the water supply. We must have missed something.-

“Parrish wasn’t affected?” Deaton asks sharply.

-He lost consciousness for a few seconds, but I was able to get him up.-

“Fire?” This comes from Theo.

“What?” Mason narrows his eyes at the chimera, who gestures with his hands all over his body, fingers waggling. “Oh! Did he flame up when he came to?”

-Yeah, actually. Gave me a shock.-

“He must have burnt it out of his system.” Mason speculates.

“Fire and water don’t go well together,” Deaton concludes, giving Theo a small nod.

-Good to know, but sadly, getting Parrish to do that for the rest will have the unfortunate side effect of leaving them dead.-

Theo hides a small grin. He’d been wanting to say exactly that.

“Sheriff, I’ll meet you at the treatment plant.” Mason suddenly announces, evoking sounds of protest from Corey and Liam.

-What? No, it could be dangerous!-

“It’s already dangerous,” Mason’s eyes pass over the incapacitated persons in the room, “And I have… a weird knack for this supernatural thing. I can help.”

There’s a long pause from the Sheriff before he finally sighs. -Fine, I know better than to argue with you lot. What about getting the oxygen tanks for the rest, though?-

“I can go to the hospital.” Nolan volunteers. “I mean, I technically don’t have my license yet, just a learner’s permit, but—”

-Consider this an official and temporary exemption. I’ll see you there in fifteen, Mason.-

The sheriff hangs up without waiting for a reply.

“Problem,” Mason says with a frown. “I only have one car.”

Theo digs in his pockets, throwing his keys at Nolan, who fumbles the catch. The chimera takes a long drag from the oxygen tank. “Damage it, I damage you.”

Nolan nods frantically, before running out of the room, phone to his ear.

“I have to go.” Mason looks reluctant but determined as he fishes around his pocket for his keys.

“Mason.” Corey pleads from his position on the ground.

“I’ll be fine.” The human stoops down, hugging his boyfriend tightly before whispering some words in his ear. He does the same to Liam, the beta’s eyes bright with a helpless frustration that’s reflected in his chemosignals.

Mason puts a hand on Alec’s shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before he heads toward the door.

His path takes him right by Theo. He pauses, lifting a hesitant hand, and patting it awkwardly on Theo’s head once, twice, then disappearing while the chimera flounders between bewilderment or annoyance.

Liam’s perplexed yet amused expression helps him decide: Theo scowls, taking another deep breath from the tank. “Does it again, no more hands.”

***

They’re on the last dregs of the oxygen tank when Nolan finally shows back up, two huge tanks in tow that Deaton helps to wheel in.

Nothing has changed in the time that he’s been gone — they each still lie or sit in their respective spots, gasping for air, coughing, trying not to fall asleep. Deaton bustles in the background, running whatever tests he can think of on the tap water, on their blood, but coming up empty. Melissa, similarly, had reported nothing unexpected on her tests.

No wolfsbane, mistletoe, mountain ash, or any other material that would target supernaturals. Nolan’s theory about the water being cursed was beginning to sound a lot more plausible.

At one end of the room, Corey and Alec are hooked up to one of the tanks, talking with Nolan in short sentences, conserving their oxygen and energy as they speculate and worry about Mason, the Sheriff, and Parrish. It’s been almost two hours since the human left.

Liam and Theo are connected to the other tank, where silence reigns supreme. Theo wants to break the tension. He’s usually so good at it — a quick one-liner, and a roll of the eyes, and they can go on like nothing has happened, avoiding whatever awkward conversation (or more likely, fraught argument) that’s sure to come between them. No need to talk it over, just let him help. But he can’t find any words within himself, and maybe it’s better this way. So all there is, is quiet.

“Theo,” The chimera looks up to where Deaton is standing, grabbing the almost-depleted smaller tank. “Come with me.”

The doctor hooks Theo up to the tank, putting his arm over his shoulder, and they slowly hobble from the room, four pairs of eyes, two glowing golden yellow, watching them curiously.

Deaton leads Theo to the back room where Max is pacing in her cage, whining even more as she spots them.

“I think she’s been worried about you.” Deaton tells the chimera as he lowers him to the floor and props him up against a wall, “Which isn’t surprising, considering how much you’ve bonded.”

Deaton opens the kennel, and Max leaps out, running straight for Theo. She grinds to a halt by his feet, her sweet face looking over him with worry in her eyes.

“Hey Maxie girl.” He reaches out a hand, and she licks it, before settling down next to him, her body curled up against his, head on his thigh. It’s the closest she’s ever been.

The phantom pressure on his chest begins to lift again.

Deaton smiles. “The tank should last for a few minutes. I’ll leave you both to it.”

He wonders if maybe dogs, or pets of all kinds, can bring some comfort with their presence, just like werewolves and other supernaturals do with physical pain. That would surely explain the ease that flows throughout Theo’s body, as he lies there, petting and whispering to the dog. He should be conserving his breath and strength, but Theo can’t help it — and it’s helping. He’s improving, a little more strength coming back to him.

The sound of wheels rolling on the ground has both Theo and Max looking up.

Liam comes around the corner, huffing and puffing as he pushes his tank into the entrance of the room.

“What are you doing here?”

“Deaton said you were here with a friend. Had to see for myself.”

Theo’s too tired to fight the scowl that forms on his face. “Why? Didn’t think I could have a friend?”

Liam doesn’t answer, instead coming closer to the pair, stopping a small distance away when Max starts to growl. He chooses to sit there, tossing one of the masks from the tank toward Theo, who takes it gratefully — his own has been starting to run out.

He wonders if Liam had known that, or, like he said, had just been curious.

“Was kinda stupid to bring the tank all the way here.” He finally says, the need to say something, anything to Liam, winning over the desire to stay quiet and maintain the status quo.

“Kinda stupid to leave it behind.” Liam retorts, before adding. “Anyway, we were feeling a bit better. Don’t you feel it too?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know I could miss the ability to speak in full sentences, yet here we are.” That longer sentence takes a little out of him, and he pulls a puff from the tank.

“That’s your dog?”

“No, Max is a feral stray Deaton found. I’ve just been helping to socialise her.”

Liam’s brow furrows. “You? Why did Deaton ask you to do it?”

Theo swallows. It's time to come clean. He tells the beta in cautious tones, “Because it’s part of my job here at the clinic.”

Liam’s eyes shoot up his forehead. “You’re working here?”

“Yes.” Max’s ears twitch in response to Theo’s careful, guarded tone.

“Why didn’t Deaton tell me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Liam snaps with narrowed eyes, only to choke on a breath, and have to turn to his oxygen mask.

The chimera shrugs. “I don’t like to mix business and pleasure.”

Liam kicks his glare up a notch.

“Take it up with the doctor. I needed a job, we don’t all have savings tucked away in a bank account.” Or any bank account at all, though he should probably look into getting one. Would they accept the space between two large bay trees as a residential address?

“You could have told me. Us.”

“Right. Like you’d have been fine with me working with the doctor. I saw your face when you saw us together.”

“That wasn’t— you need to stop putting thoughts into my head.” The beta snaps, the effort throwing him into another coughing fit.

“Then what were you thinking?”

“I was surprised. But then, not all that surprised. Mason said you were talking to Deaton the other day. It’s his own business who he works with.”

“And if he gets worried about what I might do, he can call you and you can put me in my place.” In the ground.

No, Scott said they wouldn’t do that. But whatever place Liam thought that Theo belonged in, even if he said ‘good’ back at the school, it couldn’t be here. What is ‘good’, anyway? The word had been haunting him, dogging every step. Just four letters — how can that hold so many possibilities? Possibilities without clarity; the most goddamn annoying thing in the world.

“You’re doing it again!” Liam’s eyes flash gold, and Theo knows this time it isn’t from the poisoning.

He glares his own eyes back. “I don’t know what goes on in your head! Like, what did you mean by ‘good’? Back at school? How is anything ‘good’?”

“And I don’t know what goes on in yours! Have you even figured anything out? Why you keep staying?”

Theo opens his mouth, gaping like a fish as he tries to find something to say. The truth is, he had started to understand all of it — why he kept coming back, why helping the pack was something he felt like he needed to do. But acknowledging something within yourself is very different from voicing it to someone else. Admitting something doesn’t correlate to belief. Not all catalysts provoke the desired reaction. Expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed.

As Theo grapples with what to say, the beta frowns, a mix of emotions washing over his face before he lets out a frustrated huff through his nose, clearly forcing himself to sit back against the wall and look away from Theo and Max, done with the waiting, the constant questioning.

They lapse into another silence, an even more distinctly uncomfortable one. The oxygen tank lies at the halfway point between them, like the physical manifestation of invisible battlelines drawn on the clinic floor. From his periphery, Theo can see Liam glancing over at him now and then, though the chimera keeps his attention fixed on Max.

Max, who’s cuddled so close to Theo, when less than a week ago, he couldn’t even approach without her cowering in fear and anger, who would have bit the hand that fed her.

Theo looks over at the beta again. He’s watching Theo’s hands, face alight with both curiosity and confusion. As if sensing Theo’s gaze, Liam’s blue eyes flick up to meet his.

The words come into his head unprompted: Progress is never as simple as a straight line. And maybe it also takes a little bravery, a little vulnerability to move forward. Just like Max.

Truth is the plainest thing, the simplest thing — it’s everything as it is at its core, no decorations, no masks. It should be easy. But that’s the thing, isn’t it? When you cover something up, when you avoid it for so long, it’s the tunnelling down to the heart of the matter that’s the gruelling part. Truth is easy. Revelation is not. But expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed — this always eases the path.

Theo forces himself to hold his gaze, to let Liam see everything on his face: the fear, the guilt, the doubt. Everything he’s been holding in and fighting against within himself. It’s an unfamiliar sensation, so discomfiting that it manifests in a heavy feeling in his stomach. A first step.

Liam’s eyes widen before he turns away, breaking the contact.

“I’ve been—” Theo tries to begin, interrupted by a cough and the heavy lump in his throat, “I’ve been starting to figure out why I stayed.”

The beta’s eyes flicker back to his, briefly glowing yellow before fading back to blue, a wary expression on his face as he starts to listen.

Theo’s sentences are stilted, broken frequently by the physical need to cough and take drags from the tank, as well as the emotional wall that is compelled to patch the small crack that’s only been growing despite his best efforts. But he doesn’t stop talking, doesn’t stop petting Max, and Liam doesn’t interrupt, only listens and watches carefully.

“I meant what I said to Scott at the beginning. When you brought me back, I thought going back was inevitable for me. When that changed, I stayed because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. But that wasn’t exactly true. I could have left, but it felt like something was holding me back.

“Every time I tried to think about it, there were too many thoughts and voices screaming in my head, running in all directions, and it was just too much to deal with. I didn’t want to think about it. So I ignored it.”

Liam nods, just a slight dip of his head with something unreadable flickering in his eyes. When he doesn’t speak, Theo continues.

“Deaton helped me with that, you know? He told me to think about why I couldn’t find an answer first, and maybe that would help. And I’ve been coming to the realisation that I was afraid of what I might find. I told you before: I know what I am. I know what I did. That’s all I’ve ever known, all I can remember — Death, pain, power, destruction.”

“Is that what happened?” Liam’s voice is hoarse when he speaks. “Back in Mexico? You remembered all that you did?”

Theo’s lips twist into a bitter smile. “I never forgot. I…”

He could tell Liam about Stiles’s message. Maybe the beta already knew, and even if he didn’t, he would probably agree, and be smart to do so. No matter what Liam said about him deserving to walk his own path or whatever ‘good’ means, Theo knows the history between them, and the beta knows better than most how much the past shapes the future.

But right now is about revealing this truth with Liam, and letting him do with it what he will. Expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed.

“I don’t know what to tell you about how I acted in Mexico. I can’t explain it.”

Liam looks doubtful, but he tells the chimera. “Then explain to me what you can. About why you couldn’t find the answer.”

“It all comes back to everything I’ve done, doesn’t it? All the carnage and chaos I caused.” He swallows, his hand tightening on the back of Max’s head. “I think I was scared of finding that that’s all there is to me, that staying meant I still wanted all those things.”

“And is that what you found?”

“No. But what I discovered isn’t the opposite of all those things either. I’m not built to be a hero, not like Scott.” A sad, hollow sort of smile tugs at Theo's mouth. “Do you remember the hunters, back at the abandoned zoo?”

Liam nods, another emotion flickering behind a stony gaze.

“You told me then that you liked history. And somehow, that word has stayed with me through it all. When we fought the hunters, when this whole siren thing started, it was the one thing I kept coming back to, even though it made no sense.

“It’s starting to make sense to me now, parts of it, at least. My history is filled with so much strife and darkness, and it all amounted to nothing in the end. I know I only have myself to blame for that, but I don’t want the rest of my life to be a part of that same cycle. I don’t want the future I write for myself to be just destruction and pain. I’m not expecting you to believe me. Helping you, the pack, it’s the opposite of everything that I am. So I want to stay. I want to help. Do something useful, for once.”

They fall silent, Theo keeping his eyes down and away from the beta, listening to his surprisingly steady heartbeat, his shallow breathing.

“History has a habit of repeating itself.” Liam finally ventures, careful and measured.

Theo chuckles bitterly, looking away, down to one hand placed on Max’s head, the other with claws still buried in his thigh. “I know.”

And he did, he knew it so well.

Expect nothing and you’ll never be disappointed. That’s what he told himself. But what he’d forgotten was — nothing doesn’t exist. There is no such thing as a void. The absence of light signifies the presence of darkness. Even silence is a sound. Nothing is a state of existence in itself, a state of being.

Schrödinger's Cat. Superposition. The theory that a thing isn’t real until you observe it. Nothing becomes something. But that doesn’t mean there was never anything there.

Hope had always been there. Unseen, unspoken, unacknowledged — but real. In speaking this truth, he saw it. He made it real. It had always been there. And now, it had been willed into his own being.

What do all the great writers say about hope?

Hope was a glimmering ball of light at the bottom of a jar, enduring beneath the weight of darkness. Hope was the delicate thing with feathers, perched and singing eternally upon the soul. Hope was the white star inexplicably shining through the wretched clouds of a mountain spitting ash, fire, and impenetrable shadow.

No.

Hope is a motherfucking son of a bitch.

With the strength of a beta's restrained rage — a measured but powerful force to be reckoned with. With the stubbornness of a human stuck in a world not made for them — planting their feet firmly and refusing to leave. With the will of an Alpha who doesn’t follow a path — but embodies the impetus that forges one where none had ever existed before.

Hope invades, intrudes, infects. It’s the parasite you didn’t know you were feeding.

“History is cyclical,” Liam repeats, his voice breaks through the grim haze of Theo’s thoughts, the heavy burden in his stomach, the weariness that had suffused into his very bones. His words are laced with something that Theo doesn’t recognise, “But not if we learn from it.”

Theo whips his gaze back to Liam’s face, the beta’s eyes clear and bright, Theo’s slack with disbelief. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I believe you. I’m saying you deserve a chance to prove it. To yourself, too.”

No, that can’t be right. Born monsters like Theo don’t get second chances. He opens his mouth to argue, fighting against a weight in his throat. “But you don—”

“You said you want to do something. You’ve been saying that for a while. It always sounded to me like you wanted to help, and now you know why. Now we know why. Clearly, we need all the help we can get.” Liam gestures at their prone bodies. “So help. Maybe it’ll help you figure out the rest.”

How could Liam even think of offering that to him? There’s a rushing sensation in Theo’s head, a ringing in his ears. “But I’m not—”

“I remember something else from that day, too, you know.” Liam interrupts sharply, his scowl and tone brooking no argument. “I remember you pulling me back from Nolan, more than once, when I was this close to killing him. I remember another time when you found me with Gabe, and I almost killed him, too. You stopped me all those times. And from what you just told me, I think I just understood why.”

Theo just stares at him, remembering those moments. He hadn’t really cared if Nolan and Gabe died then. Didn’t think too much of it at the time, putting it down to being part of his expected role as a guard dog for the pack.

“It wasn’t because Scott and the pack would have blamed you for it, even though that’s what you think would have happened. Maybe some of them would have, for a while, but I would have been the one to do it — it would have been on me. I think you stopped me because… you know what it’s like to have that weight on your shoulders, even if you didn’t recognise it back then. And you didn’t want me to have that without fully knowing what it means.”

Theo still can’t speak, can’t even begin to process what Liam is saying. He can only sit with the words and the memories, trying to see if they fit within him. It doesn’t feel right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either.

“And you know something else about history?” Liam asks, forcing him to look back into his eyes, “You have history here. You were born in Beacon Hills, weren’t you? Maybe that’s another reason why you stayed.”

The chimera opens his mouth, wanting to say something, knowing that he should, a need to deny something that isn’t deserved.

Then the coughing starts again, worse than before, overtaking his whole body, the pressure rising in his chest again. He gasps and pants for air, unable to stop his body from transforming, unable to fight the searing pain that suddenly assaults his head, unable to stop the scream that wrenches itself from his throat, even as he claws at a neck that doesn’t breathe.

“Theo!” Liam leaps toward him without hesitation, abandoning his own mask as he pushes Theo’s onto his face, increasing the flow from the tank.

He can feel the beta’s hand, cradling his neck, as he demands, orders him to breathe, his pupils blown wide in fright, looking fixedly into Theo’s. Dimly, he registers that Max is pawing at him, whining away. He smells worry, fear, desperation.

“Theo!” Deaton bursts into the room, followed closely by Nolan, Corey, and Alec, furiously dragging the last tank.

The doctor falls upon the chimera, almost pushing Liam off in the process.

“Theo. Theo, you need to breathe. You need to focus. Focus on what you can feel, focus on—”

Dark spots invade his vision as his lungs burn in excruciating despair. Invisible flames lick through every cell in his body, screaming desperately for air that they will never again receive.

He’s going to die right here on the cold floor of the clinic. He’s going to die without ever having the chance to finish what he’d just started, without ever having lived.

His eyes dart around madly, searching, seeking — landing on sky blue.

Without warning, without control, Theo bursts upwards with a long, loud roar, throwing both Deaton and Liam off of him. The pain in his head, the pressure in his lungs, the pinpricks of light that start to form before his eyes — it’s immense. Too much to bear. Only death can bring an end to it now.

But then his roar ends on one final gasp that has the chimera falling backwards, Liam catching him before his head hits the ground.

Hazel-green finds blue again.

And Theo breathes deeply for the first time in hours.

***

It only takes a few minutes for Theo to start to recover physically, his strength and energy slowly returning.

“It looks like it’s finally out of your system.” The chimera looks at Deaton, crouched over his prone body, relief etched into his face and in trembling hands that reach out tentatively towards him.

“I thought I was—” Theo’s voice cracks.

“I know.”

And when Deaton places a shaking hand onto Theo’s bloody palms, he lets himself fall against the doctor. There’s a hesitation, a split second where he wants to pull away, but he lets himself rest his head on a shoulder, lets himself receive this little physical contact — the first genuine comfort he can remember.

It only takes years for Theo to start to recover emotionally.

***

One by one, the supernaturals fall to the same final bane of their siren affliction. First Alec, followed by Corey, and lastly Liam. Deaton and Nolan help them through it, staying by their sides, though they’re all a little less terrified having seen Theo go through it first.

Theo finds himself automatically reaching for them as they scream, absorbing some of their pain even as Liam protests that he’s still recovering too.

When Liam is done with his episode, his head is braced against Theo’s shoulder, the chimera taking most of the beta’s weight, as Liam takes one deep inhale after another.

“Deaton,” Liam says, voice tremulous and weak as he looks up toward the doctor standing over them. “Why did you give Theo a job?”

Deaton smiles softly, turning to meet Theo’s gaze as he answers.

“Because he grows plants.”

Chapter Text

“Does anyone else think this place is creepier than it should be?” Mason whispers from where he’s standing behind Sheriff Stilinski and Deputy Parrish, all of them shining torches that light up their path within the water facility. “I mean, this is where all our fresh, clean water comes from. Isn’t it meant to be, I don’t know, more welcoming?”

“We’re in an industrial facility. What did you expect?” Stilinski mutters, keeping his voice low.

“More big pipes and steel tanks of water. Less catwalks, massive open vats, and dark pools filled with liquid that is definitely not just water.”

“There are big pipes and tanks.” Parrish points out in that helpful way of his.

“Yeah, but why so many sources of open water?”

“If it helps, the facility has been running tests on their water since their man went missing — they haven’t come up with anything.”

“That definitely does not help,” Mason says, nervous hands gripping his steel bat. “Because that either means the sirens did something that not even science or the supernatural can detect, or they did this just today and could still be here now.”

“The second is impossible,” Stilinski insists, “We’ve had patrols running all day and all night.”

“Wonderful — just your average incomprehensible siren magic then.”

It didn’t help that the water treatment facility was also incredibly massive. Their voices, even as whispers echoed against all the metal around them. They blended in with the hums and whirs of machinery, the gurgle and splash of water moving all around them.

Any sound could have been a siren, lurking in dark, watery depths, or hidden in murky shadows. Mason keeps expecting to see eyes appear in the gloom, glowing sea-green orbs blinking into existence. But everything in the facility remains as it should, if a little more creepy than he’d been anticipating.

“This part is definitely making me feel weird.” Parrish says, as they gaze down from the highest catwalk in the building, into the biggest vats they’d seen so far, what looked like steam or fumes rising from them.

“A little scared of heights there, Parrish?” Stilinski asks as his torch sweeps across the fragile, steel path.

“Maybe.”

“‘Would you die for me?’” Mason quotes, unable to help himself as he looks down at the sight before them, a crazed smile forming on his face. “‘No, would you live for me?’”

Two identical confused gazes swing over to him.

“‘Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power’?”

Stilinski and Parrish look at each other, shrugging. “Is this one of your geek things?” The Sheriff finally asks.

“Let’s just say if I fall into one of those vats and come out with multicoloured hair, please don’t let me fall in love with a psychotic clown.”

“Oh!” Parrish suddenly perks up in recognition. “The Joker and Harley Quinn scene from Suicide Squad.”

“Yes!” Mason punches the air with his bat, triumphant.

“Shush.” Stilinski frowns at them.

“It was a cool scene, but not a great movie.” Parrish says to Mason, lowering his voice to appease the older man.

“Ooh, Parrish, are you a secret comic book geek?” The glee of finding a kindred spirit almost erases Mason’s unease. Almost.

The hellhound shrugs, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, “I’ve loved The Flash since I was a kid.”

“Would’ve pegged you as a Marvel guy — you know, Ghost Rider with Hellfire and all that?”

“Ah yes,” Stilinksi gives Mason a wry look. “What a nice time to be reminded of when a Nazi possessed our hellhound. Can we focus, please?”

“Right, right, sorry. But we will be talking about this later.” Mason punctuates this by pointing his bat at Parrish, who looks as if he isn’t looking forward to it but nods anyway.

“You know,” Parrish starts, “I think there’s nothing—”

“Don’t say it!” Stilinski whirls around, waving his hands, the beam from his torch arcing across the factory wildly, “Every time someone says it, something happens.”

Mason gives the Sheriff a bemused look. “What are you talking about?”

“The point is not talking about it.”

Mason looks over at Parrish, who shrugs again. “The opposite of something happening.”

“Ah,” He nods in understanding, “Like a horror movie.”

“Christ.” The Sheriff mutters to himself, rubbing a hand across his brow.

“I had a thought.” Mason suddenly says, hurrying to continue as the frazzled Sheriff opens his mouth, “It’s useful, I think.”

“Okay, fine. What?”

“You know how werewolves have like, thermal vision when they glow their eyes?”

“I think I know what you’re talking about.” The Sheriff says with obvious doubt.

“Maybe a hellhound would have the same ability? I don’t know if you’ll be able to find anything out of the ordinary, but worth a try. Got a great view from up here.”

Parrish agrees to give it a shot, standing precariously at the edge of the platform, only thin metal wires separating him from the open air. His eyes go bright orange, the colour of flame, and the air in his vicinity noticeably gets hotter, warming up both Mason and Stilinski.

“Do you see anything?” The Sheriff asks.

“No, nothing that looks strange. Maybe we shou— Wait.” There’s a tense silence as the hellhound squints at something down below and to their left. “It looks like a scratch. From claws.”

“Or talons.” Mason realises, something like dread starting to pool in his stomach, like roiling waves of water threatening to boil over.

***

“It’s not the deepest scratch,” Stilinski says doubtfully as they look at the large grey pipe on the ground before them. It extends from a large tank of clear water to the wall of the building, leading out of the complex. “And there are only three lines. Wouldn’t sirens have five talons, like werewolves?”

“You think it’s a coincidence?” Parrish asks.

“I think it’s a trap. The sirens didn’t leave any other trace of themselves all over this place, so why this pipe? Why now?”

Mason looks up at Stilinski’s determined face. “So, we’re not going to walk into the trap, right?” He asks, though a part of him already knows the answer.

“We have to. According to the schematics, this pipe is one of the main suppliers of drinking water for the town. But we’re not going in without some extra firepower.” The Sheriff turns on his heel, heading for the exit.

“I don’t think an extra big gun is going to protect us from the siren’s song.” Mason whispers to Parrish, who sighs, world-weary.

“Neither do I.”

***

“This is definitely where they poisoned the water.” The Sheriff says firmly. They’d followed the channel to the outskirts of town, and hidden in a dense thicket was a large section of the pipeline.

A top sheet of metal had been gouged out and crumpled back, with five talon marks etched into the steel, marking the rough positioning of the fingers of a human hand. The hole in the pipe wasn’t very large, the opening was barely larger than a sheet of printer paper. But it was enough for the trio to look in and see clear running water inside.

“Do you smell anything weird in the water?” Mason asks Parrish, who bends over the opening, sniffing madly. He shakes his head, no.

“That’s not surprising,” The Sheriff points out from where he was standing watch over them, a massive shotgun in his hands, “Our werewolves didn’t smell anything strange in their drinking water — else, they wouldn’t have drank it.”

“That’s true, but maybe—” Parrish is cut off by the blur of a figure falling upon them from above, landing with a crash on the large pipe. They only have time to register glowing sea-green eyes before the siren lunges toward the Sheriff, ripping the shotgun from his grasp, crumpling it in her hands before tossing it over her shoulder.

Mason remembered Liam and Theo’s descriptions of the sirens they’d encountered. They didn’t do her justice.

This siren had a mass of wine-red hair floating wildly around her head, like live wires. Black feathers sprouted across her torso, somehow looking implausibly sharp. Black scales rippled across the rest of her body and on her face, moving in an undulating motion that raised the hairs on Mason’s arms.

It’s a disorienting image, one that provided the siren with such a distorted appearance that she could have been anyone at any age. The perfect disguise.

She bares her pointy teeth at them in a leer, raising a talon-tipped hand in a mocking wave.

“Well, well.” Her voice is harsh, grating, like nails on a chalkboard. “I was hoping to meet someone else. But I suppose you’ll do.”

There’s a mass of movement as the Sheriff goes scrambling backwards, pulling a horrified Mason with one hand, while reaching for his pistol with the other. Siren and hellhound crash together, a mess of flame and talons, screeches and roars, shimmering eyes of sea-green and orange.

Before Parrish can get a good hit in, she leaps away, faster than he is, before darting forward and slashing at his torso, withdrawing as quickly as she’d come. She starts to lunge for him again, but he’s ready for her this time. He grabs her arms with bright, glowing hands, flame alight over his whole body.

Yelping in pain, she pulls her hands away, and Mason expects her to retreat. She does, but not before she slashes again at the hellhound’s stomach.

For a moment, her eyes fall on her burned flesh, and Stilinski takes the opportunity — two shots into her shoulder that have her reeling backwards. But the thud both humans hear is not that of the siren falling to her knees.

Parrish, now on the ground, hands on the dripping wounds of his abdomen. If they had come from anything else, he wouldn’t have been left gasping on the ground; the bleeding would already be starting to clot.

“All out of firepower now, Sheriff.” The siren declares on a taunting laugh, and as Mason and Stilinski watch, her flesh starts to reform. Mason notices that it’s slower than typical supernatural healing. But she had the advantage in that domain right now.

“Yeah? I’ll bet a couple of bullets through your head won’t have you laughing anymore.” The Sheriff counters, cocking the pistol.

“Aww,” She coos, “An impasse.”

“What do you want with the supernaturals?” Mason demands, brandishing his bat at her.

She grins at him, an eerie thing. “To come out and play, of course.”

“But why them?” He persists, “You took humans first.”

She shakes her head, looking almost disappointed. “A necessary step in the right direction.”

“What have you done to them? How do we cure them?”

“Tick tock, little human. Is that all you wanted to know?”

“Tell us!”

The siren throws her head back on a laugh, clapping her dangerous hands together. “Oh, this is so fun — you’re just going to keep asking me stupid questions you already have the answer to, aren’t you?”

“Mason,” The Sheriff says in a low, urgent voice. “She’s playing with us. She could have taken us both out with Parrish down. There’s something else going on.”

Mason looks up at the Sheriff, realisation dawning. “She’s waiting for something.”

Stilinski nods once. “Or someone. The other siren.”

Mason turns back to the red-haired siren, who’s watching their exchange carefully, but with a casual boredom. Like someone waiting at a bus stop, watching buses that aren’t theirs pass by.

“What are you waiting for? You could have killed us by now.”

She frowns, shaking her head. “I have no use for you.” Her glowing eyes flicker over to Parrish, still lying weakly on the ground, though a defiant glare is carved into the lines of his face. “Him, maybe.”

Her eyes turn back to Mason and Stilinski, a smug smirk forming as she passes her eyes over both of them. “But if you insist.”

Teeth bared, talons out, she leaps.

***

“Oof!”

Theo grunts with effort as he catches the siren in a desperate dive, his hands wrapped around her wrists. They land in a heap next to the pipe, and he thrusts her as far away as he can manage, wanting to avoid being speared by talons this time.

“Theo?!” He hears the Sheriff yell out in surprise.

“Liam?” Mason cries out in shock as the beta comes crashing through the trees, going straight for the wounded hellhound.

Theo looks at the siren crouched at the base of a tree, a short distance from him. She shakes her red hair back, looking up at him with a toothy grin.

“You’re not who I was expecting.” He tells her.

She looks between him and Liam, biting her lower lip in excitement. “And you’re exactly who I was expecting.” Theo has no time to figure out whether she’s referring to him or the beta as she springs up from the ground, talons going for his throat.

It’s hard trying to avoid her reach — she’s agile, quicker than werewolves, though not as strong. Theo, usually preferring a direct, offensive approach, has to resort to evasive tactics: jumping back as she swipes at him, redirecting or parrying any attack from her talons. He’s not fast enough to avoid getting scratched, but they’re shallow wounds, and thus nothing that requires much worry. For now.

“Theo!” Theo looks up to find a steel bat flying at him, the gift of extended reach from Mason. He manages to grab it before it hurtles into his head, but loses the chance to dodge the kick she sends to his stomach. He staggers back, recovering quickly. Now is the time for some offensive manoeuvres.

While they go at it, all steel and talons, he hears the rest in the background.

Parrish groaning at Liam. “I’ll be fine. Stop her!”

Liam snapping at Mason and the Sheriff. “Get him to Deaton!”

The Sheriff demanding, “Find out what she’s done to the water!”

Liam joins the fray, and his presence and strength give them an edge: now it’s the siren on the defensive, darting and spinning quickly to avoid both their blows. They get some good hits in, drawing blood, Liam managing a deep gash on her left forearm that has her hissing in pain. She inevitably manages to scratch them a few times — still shallow, still nothing to worry about.

Soon, she’s backed against a tree, clutching her wounds, heaving for breath, with a ludicrous smile on her face. “I told your human you’d be fine after some time.”

“Yeah, thanks for that terrifying near-death experience, by the way. Shall we get started on yours?” Theo advances toward her, but Liam grabs his arm.

“We need to know about the water.”

“That still requires a near-death experience.” Theo pulls out of Liam’s grasp, seizing the siren by the neck and shoving her against the tree. “Tell us what you did to the water.”

She smirks. “I thought you were supposed to be the charming one.” Theo lets his claws slide out, piercing her skin. “It doesn’t matter, it’s over now.”

“What do you mean?” Liam demands, his eyes glowing furiously.

“You’re all better, aren’t you?”

Theo glowers at her. “So that was it? You just poisoned the supernaturals temporarily, what, to draw us all out?”

“Maybe? Who knows?” She tilts her head from side to side as she answers, a mocking gesture.

She’s playing with them, Theo realises. Together, both he and Liam outmatched her in sheer strength and numbers, for now, but sirens had more than speed, didn’t they?

“And nothing else is going to happen to the water supply?” Liam growls, taking a step closer to them. “To everyone else?”

The siren scrunches up her face, as if thinking hard. “Nah, kinda boring if everyone died.”

“Then what are you doing here?” Theo asks, pushing her harder into the tree. “We saw the scratch on the pipe back at the water facility. You wanted us here. Why?”

Her eyes slide lazily to look at him, then over to Liam, a slow smile spreading over her face. Theo, sensing something lurking beneath the surface, starts to loosen his grip, ready to back away.

“Guess.” In a seamless motion, she backhands him before doing an almost balletic spin into Liam, kicking him so hard he flies into a nearby tree. Theo, having anticipated this, fared better and is ready for her, wielding the bat.

What Theo did not anticipate, however, was the siren going in the opposite direction, towards the pipe, doing a flip like some sort of gymnast that had her landing over the hole.

With a waggle of her eyebrows at the shocked boys, she dunks a hand into the water.

“Oh, gross.” Liam mutters from somewhere behind the chimera, “We drink that water.”

“Uh,” Theo watches as her wounds start to heal faster, the siren taking a long, deep, shuddering breath as if being revitalised. “I think we have bigger problems, Liam!”

Without waiting for her injuries to heal completely, she dives back towards them, reigniting the fight. But she’s different this time, more focused and filled with intent somehow. Theo recognises it — now, she was out for blood, as though everything earlier had just been a distraction. And it had been. She’d meant for them to be weak and tired out, both from the poisoned water and the fight. Now was the optimal time for her to heal.

Now she was out for blood, and it showed.

Her first move was to grab the bat with one hand, making dents in the metal. The second was to kick Theo and have him stumble to the ground. The third was done using the bat she’d absconded from the chimera’s hands, launching it hard into Liam’s stomach, sending him careening into yet another tree.

The siren laughs again as she looks between the two boys lying prone before her. “Well, this has been fun. But I don’t need both of you.”

She looks at Theo for a split second, her face considering, before she turns for Liam, raising both talon-tipped hands with vile intent. Liam’s still on the ground, eyes widening as he sees the siren launch herself into a flying leap.

Theo doesn’t see if Liam is preparing to meet her head-on, or if he’s scrambling to avoid her reach. There is no time for seeing, for thinking — only knowing. And all he knows is that he has to move. Now.

In a movement that Theo’s body registers before his mind does, he jumps toward the siren, taking her down with her outstretched arm just inches from the beta’s throat. They go rolling off to the side, tumbling into bushes and fallen branches, spinning tangle of claws and talons, slashing and tearing into every bit of exposed flesh they can reach.

And while he managed to bury his claws into her arm and shoulder, the move also had her embedding her talons deep into his side.

Whatever advantage surprise had given him is fast slipping away. He can't match her blistering speed, the surge of strength and healing she’s drawn from the water — not when exhaustion still drags at his limbs, and blood leaves him too quickly.

Suddenly, the siren’s legs coil around his waist. With a brutal twist, she wrenches them over, pinning him beneath her. Straddling his legs, she glares down, cold and unrelenting. Moonlight catches on her raised talons, their razor-sharp points poised to strike, her eyes latched onto his throat. Theo only just has time to throw his arms over his face.

A crack. A scream.

And there’s Liam — fangs bared in a roar, his yellow-gold eyes blazing. His hands twist vindictively on her broken arm, his anger palpable in the cold, night air between them.

The echoes of her scream have barely begun to fade when the beta throws her, his unyielding, furious eyes tracking the arc of her body as she flies through the air, hitting the metal pipe with a resounding clang.

No, he’s not just furious. Theo recognises the smell: pure, unadulterated rage.

The beta starts toward her, determined fury in every purposeful step, and Theo lunges for him, grabbing the only part of him he can reach — his hand.

“Don’t.”

“Why not.” Liam hisses through gritted teeth. “We already know the water’s fine.”

“You know why.”

“Give me a better reason!” He glares down at the chimera.

“You know this isn’t what Scott would want.”

Liam’s eyes flash impossibly brighter. “I’m not Scott.”

“No, you’re not. He never had to deal with this kind of anger. But you have — many times. You’ve dealt with this your whole life. You’ve won against it your whole life. Don’t let this be the first time you lose.”

The glow of Liam’s eyes dimmed, but didn’t fade away entirely, the scent of his rage still an acidic presence between them. “She could have killed everyone.”

“Killing someone isn’t worth it. It’s not worth losing yourself.” And not for me, Theo wants to say, never for me. Because as much as Liam had been angry over what the siren had done, unfathomably, it had been her about to deliver the killing blow on him that had made Liam snap.

He doesn’t know if Liam can see it on his face, or if what he said worked, but the beta stops trying to pull out of Theo’s grasp, though his face is still hard with anger and resolve.

“Is it worth stopping her before she hurts anyone else?” The question, still tinged with rage, comes out more like a plea.

“Stopping her isn’t the same as killing her.”

That halts him completely, his eyes fading back to blue. They look at the siren, lying on the ground propped up against the pipe, cradling her broken arm. Theo’s eyes zero in on her left forearm — the wound Liam had inflicted earlier was still there, a raised, angry welt, but not entirely healed.

Noticing their gaze, she gives Theo a sly grin. “Your boyfriend’s strong when he’s angry.”

“He’s not my— we’re not even friends!” Theo sputters, indignant. Boyfriend?!

“Ooh, trouble in paradise?”

“Allies,” Liam says decisively in a low voice for only Theo, offering him a hand. “We’re allies.”

“Yes,” Theo nods frantically as he lets the beta pull him to his feet. “That I can live with.”

And still, she laughs at them, even with her bleeding wounds and shattered bones. “You people. So tedious.”

“Is this— What is the point of all this?!” The beta demands.

She only widens her grin, showing more of her sharp teeth. “Aren’t you having fun?” Her eyes flicker to the section of open pipe, a distance away from her now.

“You won’t be able to reach it before Liam gets you.” Theo informs her.

She grimaces, though he can tell it isn’t from genuine distress. “I suppose pulling that move again would be too boring.”

“Then end it.” Theo hisses through clenched teeth, a hand pressed to staunch the blood pouring from his side, as Liam starts toward the siren again, hopefully to subdue this time.

“Or I could go for the boring move. Repetitive? Yes. Will you reach me before I get to the water? Probably. But I still have one good hand.” She waggles the sharp talons of said hand in a jeering wave. “And I’ll get to the water eventually.”

“Or you could just sing.”

Liam pauses at the chimera’s words, as if sensing the intention behind what he’s saying.

Theo baits her again. “Go ahead. Do it.”

Her eyes narrowed, the first show of real emotion that they’d seen from her.

“What’s the problem?” Theo smirks at her. “Wolf got your tongue?”

She hisses at them then, an angry sound slicing through her bared, knife-like teeth.

“Oh, I see.” He cocks his head. “Can’t sing without your lake, can you? Haven’t drowned enough people to do that yet?”

He’d remembered the first part just moments earlier. The second was a test.

Her lips twist, eyes flashing in frustration, but the expression remains for only a second before she’s grinning again. “Yet.”

Then with whatever strength she had left, she vaulted herself over the pipe, running into the undergrowth and darkness.

Liam heaves out a sigh before turning around and walking over to the chimera.

“What are you doing? Go after her!”

“Like I’m gonna leave you here to bleed out.” The beta mutters as he roughly grabs the chimera, heaving his arm over his shoulder.

“This really is becoming repetitive,” Theo grumbles. “Seriously, you could have gone after her. You just wasted an opportunity.”

“Can you just let me help you and say thank you for once!”

“I’ve said thank you before! Twice actually, but who’s counting?!”

“Anyway,” The beta continues as he drags Theo along, the chimera grumbling under his breath, “This isn't a complete loss. We know the water is safe for now.”

“True, but thinking about it now in retrospect, she would have needed to drown people to increase her power anyway. Poisoning everyone wouldn’t have done much in that regard.”

Liam shoots him a dirty look. “So we shouldn’t have made sure?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I wonder which one of us she wanted, though.”

Theo lifts his weak head to look up at the beta. “Me, obviously.” He grins. “I’m a hot commodity. In fact, did you know that even Mason thinks I’m hot? He said— ow!”

In Theo’s opinion, jabbing the open wound of a heavily injured and vulnerable Theo isn’t at all acceptable behaviour from the beta of Scott McCall, True Alpha.

But pointing this out just gets him another dig in the ribs.

***

Theo rests his head on the examining table as Nolan tends to his wounds, while Deaton works on Parrish nearby. They were saving the siren water for the worst injuries — minor ones would have to heal on their own, to preserve their already small supply. The druid's barrel was still mostly full, but the siren had been formidable enough with only a few drowned souls. No one wanted to take any chances.

After Mason and Liam updated everyone on what had happened, Corey filled them in on what the rest of them had gone to the hospital to do. They’d helped Melissa with the ailing supernaturals, including hiding them from the general populace, especially since that last bit of healing from the poisoned water had been pretty loud.

“You know,” The Sheriff says thoughtfully from where he’s sitting on a chair, sipping on a bottle of thankfully poison-free water, “We may not know why the sirens are targeting Beacon Hills’ supernaturals, but the way they used the water to identify them might’ve ended up giving us an advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Corey asks.

“It means,” Theo says on a groan as he pushes himself up to sitting, still sore from all his other injuries. “That we might be able to identify the supernaturals too.”

“And what,” Alec calls out, “Protect them? There’s probably a lot of them and too few of us — this is Beacon Hills after all.” It’s a point that Theo is inclined to agree with. He may be helping now, but he’s not going to just willingly sacrifice himself. Ridiculous.

“We can at least give them a heads up.” Liam points out.

“Are you gonna go all Civil War on us?” Mason directs his question to the Sheriff, although he receives blank stares from every direction except Corey and Parrish, the latter sighing and shaking his head. “You know, Iron Man versus Captain America? The superhuman registration act?”

Stilinski shakes his bottle at Mason in warning. “Son, that’s way too many comic book references for one day.”

“Technically,” Corey puts in helpfully, “It’s also a movie reference.”

“I love you so much.” Mason says to his boyfriend.

Stilinski just rolls his eyes.

“Is that what you plan to do, though?” Deaton asks, his eyes thoughtful. “Use this event to create a database of Beacon Hills supernaturals so you can keep an eye on them?” It’s a particularly loaded statement — Theo knows keeping a watchful eye could mean many things.

The Sheriff braces his forehead against a clenched fist. “Why do I feel like I’m gonna be forced to watch this movie?”

Mason brightens. “I actually have—”

“Or,” Theo cuts in, something he’d read before stirring in his mind. “Just read up on Foucault’s take on the Panopticon.”

This time, only Mason, Deaton, Parrish, and the Sheriff look like they understand, Mason in particular fixing Theo with a peculiar look.

“I remember learning about that,” The Sheriff muses, “The whole theory that while constant surveillance is an effective means of control and enforcing safety, it doesn’t correlate to an inherent change in the individual or society itself — it becomes a psychological prison that doesn’t actually solve any underlying issues.”

Theo quirks the side of his lips. “Never thought I’d hear you wax philosophical, Sheriff. That sounds like it was straight from a textbook.”

Stilinski gives him a particularly loaded look. “It was part of the psychological training we had to go through as law enforcers. That’s what the movie was about?”

Mason nods.

“Great, now I don’t have to watch it.” Mason looks as if he’s ready to object, but the Sheriff swiftly continues.

“Anyway,” he says slowly, almost like he’s thinking it through in real time. “I never brought it up as a way for us to surveil the supernatural population. It’s not fair to act like we expect people to do bad things — supernatural or not.”

His eyes linger on Theo just a second too long, like he means it, like Theo’s supposed to believe them. Like it’s that easy.

They were saying the right things. Maybe even believing them. But they’d let him out of a prison once, only for hell to be traded for a leash. The physical tether was gone, sure, but the hold of it remained. And with every turn, every task, every chance, he’d just been reminded of all he’d done. A propensity for something equates to the continued potential for it. Evil begets evil, or whatever they said.

Was this a test, another kind of incarceration? A cleaner leash. A longer chain. A way for Liam —who’d said he believed him— and the rest of them, to watch more closely?

“Or to act like people can’t change,” Mason says, quiet but firm. His eyes move to meet Liam's for a moment —something passes between them— then turn onto Theo.

Or maybe it is what it is.

Theo remembers the message from Stiles — a truth delivered in a venomous little package, but still a truth nonetheless. But maybe the reminders of what he is haven’t all come from them. Not entirely.

Maybe they’ve been coming from him. Deaton had said that the others had been deciding who Theo was, but he’d been doing that to himself, too, holding himself back.

He will always carry it — the weight of it, the truth of his being. But perhaps, like Max, trust has to go both ways, even if it is a disconcerting and unfamiliar notion, even if it doesn’t feel real.

“So…” Alec clears his throat. “What are we gonna do with the supernaturals once we know who all of them are?”

“We warn whoever we think will be willing to listen, and keep an eye on the rest. That’s all.” The Sheriff declares firmly.

“And having that list will help us identify if any disappearances, or worse, are connected to the sirens or not.” Parrish adds.

“That’s right. I can put out a call for potential victims of a suspicious poison, see who comes in. You two,” Stilinski directs this to Nolan and Alec, “Can help by asking around, see if anyone was suddenly sick earlier today. Not everyone’s gonna trust law enforcement, especially if they’re supernaturals.”

“Great,” Alec whines. “Another admin job.”

“The rest of you,” Deaton instructs, “Heal up. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of the sirens.”

***

Later that night, when Theo hears a loud booming crash echo from a distance, reaching even him in the preserve, he thinks Deaton should have just kept his mouth shut.

Chapter Text

“Don’t you boys have to sleep? I’ve heard that helps with healing your wounds.”

Theo and Liam lock eyes from opposite ends of an open space in front of what was supposed to be the country club construction site. The beta had appeared seconds after Theo had, the Sheriff and some of his deputies already there.

Liam shrugs. “I heard a boom.”

“So did I.”

Stilinski sighs. “Should I expect the rest of your little cronies to come crashing in too?”

Liam shakes his head. “Alec heard the noise, but he seemed a little too shaken up from earlier to come. Nolan’s with him. Corey’s at Mason’s place.”

“You know, it was much easier to explain why kids keep showing up at crime scenes when my son was still around. And that wasn’t easy at all.”

“We’ll leave if it wasn’t the sirens.” Theo assures the Sheriff, Liam nodding in agreement.

The Sheriff just looks at them for a long moment before sighing again. “I don’t know yet.”

“Then we stay. What happened?”

“All we can tell so far is that a big part of the construction site has been blown up, and materials are missing.”

“Materials?” Liam frowns.

“Steel, cement, wood — whatever they use to build. We found tyre tracks from two trucks leading away from the site, but it was a dead end. My men found the trucks, but no materials, and no people.”

Theo looks around the site, noticing the lack of construction workers amongst the deputies. “Were they supposed to be building this late at night?”

Stilinski nods. “Yeah, we found their schedules and plans. But no people. There were supposed to be eight of them here tonight.”

Theo and Liam exchange glances. “Sounds like it could be sirens.” The chimera finally says, though it worries him, and Liam too, judging by the look on his face — eight more souls for the sirens.

“Or they could have just left,” The Sheriff points out. “Gone on strike, dumped their stuff somewhere.”

“Well, we’re here now,” Liam tells him. “We might as well take a look around. See if we can catch a scent.”

The Sheriff massages his temples before speaking again. “Fine.”

As Stilinski heads over to his deputies with some concocted reason for their presence, Theo and Liam head over to the actual construction site. Or what was left of it. Most of it had been reduced to rubble, dust still rising from the wreckage. The only thing left standing was a small building to the left of the plot. A guardhouse, or something.

“I would have come if you’d called, you know.” Theo tells Liam, who frowns over at him.

“You needed to rest.”

“You’re healing too.” Theo counters.

“Yeah, but you got hurt way worse than I did. And dude,” Liam passes his eyes over Theo’s body, head to toe and back up again. “You look like one of The Walking Dead. You always have bags under your eyes.”

Oh.

Theo shrugs, “Been busy. Back in school, work, and all that.” It’s true, not that he’d been sleeping much before school and work came into the mix.

Liam gives him a look. “You’ve had eye bags since before you started going back to school.”

Oh. But why would Liam have noticed that? Or cared? Or… had he thought his eye bags a sign of him plotting? No, don’t go there. Not after what happened at the clinic. Or just not yet.

In any case, Theo avoids the beta’s eyes, choosing to start picking his way through the rubble, trying to catch a scent. “Genetics.”

He feels more than sees the beta rolling his eyes, but Liam doesn’t pursue the subject further, to Theo’s relief.

“Anyway, how are you feeling? Besides tired.” Liam asks, making his way through broken concrete and glass.

“Sore. You?”

“Sore.” Theo turns, mouth open and ready to eviscerate Liam with the reminder that Theo had been the one to walk away with the deepest wounds, when the beta continues, “Not as sore as you, obviously.”

There’s silence for a while as both boys look around, sniffing the air, flashing their eyes to catch anything suspicious, while behind them, the deputies slowly leave in their cars, leaving only them and the Sheriff.

After a few more minutes, Stilinski approaches. “Anything?”

They both shake their heads no. “Too much dust.” Liam explains, “Can’t smell anything else. And I don’t see anything weird. Do you?” He directs the question to Theo.

“No.” But he’s not relieved. It could be possible that the sirens could just take people without leaving a trace. They didn’t know much about what souls did to their creepy bird-woman powers.

“Okay.” The Sheriff sighs yet again, though it’s more one of relief than anything else. “Then we go home.”

“Home?” Liam protests. “But it could be—”

“It could also be nothing.” The Sheriff cuts him off, his words ringing with finality. “I’ll be getting in touch with the construction company first thing in the morning. But for now, there’s nothing to find here, so we go home.”

Nobody moves, all three of them looking between each other.

“Go. Home.”

Theo gives Liam a look, like, ‘Well, what can you do?’.

Liam returns it with a shrug, seeming to say, ‘Yeah, okay, I guess.’

They return to where the Sheriff’s car and Theo’s truck are parked. With a sigh of his own, Theo looks at Liam. “I’m assuming since you haven’t yet acquired the ability to drive —nor a vehicle of your own— you’ll need a ride?”

Liam has the decency to look sheepish, “I mean, I ran here. I could ju—”

“Get in the truck, Liam.”

***

“Why is your duffel bag from Mexico still in the back?” Liam asks in a voice layered with suspicion as they pull away from the site.

“It has my clothes and stuff for when I go to the gym and work with Deaton.” Liam doesn’t look convinced. “Workouts get me sweaty and animals get me dirty.”

“Oh.”

“Why, did you think I was gonna run away from Beacon Hills?” He says it sarcastically, for the most part.

“No.” Liam’s heartbeat is steady, which surprises Theo. “You said you’re back for good to help, and I told you I believe you.”

Theo shakes his head as he makes a turn. “That’s the thing, I don’t understand why you believe me.”

Liam frowns at him, though more in confusion than suspicion, which is… strange. “Should I not?”

“Yes?” It comes out as a disbelieving laugh. “After everything I’ve done—”

“You said you didn’t want to do that anymore.”

“But what if I was lying? What if I’m working with the sirens, or waiting for them to pick you apart and—”

“You know,” Liam’s casual, conversational tone takes Theo by surprise. “You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me you’re up to no good.”

“I— what?”

“If you were planning to do all that, I don’t think you’d be telling me.”

“Maybe I’m trying to lure you into a false sense of security!” Though he hadn't meant to do it, Theo’s voice is pitched higher, louder, incredulity seeping from every syllable. “Maybe I’m just going to—”

“And!” Liam raises his voice over Theo’s, but the unconcerned tone remains the same, “You telling me I shouldn’t trust you isn’t very suspicious behaviour.”

Theo’s jaw hangs open.

“You could try, I don’t know, driving us into a ditch? Slashing me with your claws? Then I’ll probably be convinced.”

Theo blinks. Ten times, he counted. “You really do… believe me?”

“That you want to help us? Yeah.”

“But… why? It can’t just be because I said so.” Because it can’t be true. It can’t be this easy.

“You know how they say ‘actions speak louder than words’?”

“Did you know,” Theo puts in, unable to help himself, like the nervous energy that had been building inside him had to spill out somehow. “There’s a longer version of that quote?” Liam blinks. Three times. “It’s ‘actions speak louder than words but not nearly as often’, by Mark Twain, I think.”

Liam just stares at Theo.

“What?” Theo shifts in his seat.

“We would have been a lot less afraid of you if we had known you were a nerd.”

“I am not a—”

“And scared of clowns.”

“Everyone sane should be scared of clowns.” Theo insists.

“True,” Liam concedes. “But you are a nerd. A book nerd.”

Theo laughs a little, feeling some of the tension in him ease. “Okay, whatever. Where were you going with that?”

“Well,” Liam scrunches his eyebrows, as if trying to find the right words, like he knows how much weight they carry for the chimera, “Everything you’ve done since you came back all showed you wanted to help. Even at the beginning. For some of the pack, that seemed to be enough.”

“You mean Scott.” Theo confirms.

“Yeah. But for some of us, for me, I guess, we needed to know why. And what you told me back in the clinic, it backs up everything you’ve been doing. All of that combined makes sense, so… I believe you.”

Theo feels a smile creep over him, a realisation. “That’s one way of looking at Mark Twain’s words.”

“Please don’t nerd out on me again.” Liam groans.

“No, see,” It’s weird that he wants to spill his ‘nerdy’ knowledge onto Liam, he’s almost excited about it. A new form of torture, perhaps? A way to disperse this nervous energy? “Twain was a satirist. A lot of his work was about how people, society, institutions, and all that were hypocritical. I thought what he meant by that quote was that people always say they want to do things, but they rarely ever follow through.”

“There’s a but coming,” Liam mutters to himself, “And it’s gonna be more book nerd shit.”

Theo continues, unbothered. “But what you just said is about how the words, or more specifically, how the intention, have to come together with the words to make it meaningful. Isn’t it cool how people read the same things differently?”

“Okay, okay, keep all that for your book club! Is this making you believe that I believe you?”

Theo pauses his thoughts on Twain for a second to think about it. Does he? Does he have any reason not to?

“I… I guess so?”

Liam fixes him with an exasperated look. “What, do you need me to recite a Pledge of Allegiance or something? ‘I pledge allegiance to the Theo Raeken of Beacon Hills, and to the Truck in which he drives, one Chimera under No God—”

“Stop, stop!” He’s laughing, he’s laughing with Liam, and it feels like it could be normal.

No, not exactly normal. They’d passed by normal months and months ago. It’s a new type of equilibrium, one where neither of them has to be constantly suspicious or on guard, poised to jump on the offensive or defensive.

“It’s just hard to believe that you’re not all waiting for me to fuck up again.”

Liam shrugs. “I’m not expecting you to.”

Ah, yes.

Theo glances over at the beta with a wry look, “Stiles?”

Liam nods. “But he’s paranoid about everything. You know, he wanted Scott’s dad to run a background check on his classmates and professors?”

Theo chuckles. “Sounds like him. I assume Malia remains unconvinced, too?”

“She said to call her if we needed to kill you. She doesn’t care otherwise.”

“Okay, that does sound more like Malia. What about Lydia?”

“She said, and I quote, ‘if I have to scream in class because of one of you, I will kill you myself.’”

“Fair enough.” He pauses. “What about the rest?”

“Maybe you should talk to them and find out,” Liam says pointedly, and it makes sense. He doesn’t have to work with Scott, Malia, and the rest, even if they were, indirectly, keeping an eye on him.

But somehow, the thought of talking to Mason and Corey, and trying to convince them doesn’t seem as daunting as it should be. Or would have been, if not for… Liam, actually.

If you’d asked Theo just twenty-four hours ago, out of everything that had happened —being poisoned, fighting a crazed siren, construction workers vanishing into thin air— he would have said the least likely of all was Liam choosing to believe and trust in him. And yet, that had happened. He has someone on his side.

No, he has someone else on his side now. First Deaton, and now Liam. There’s certainly a sensation of relief —some form of solace, a gentle kind of consolation— that grows within him. But it doesn’t feel real yet. Like it hadn’t yet been woven. As if the tapestry of his fate that had long been abandoned, thought finished, had begun to quietly stir again. Like the Moirai had found a new thread to lay within the loom, but hadn’t decided if it deserved to be woven, or even what shape the fabric was meant to take.

Trust, as thin as a line of floss, as fragile as a single hair, or as strong as silk.

This is a kind of normal where Liam believes him. Trusts him, not inherently, but at the very least, to let him stand beside them against the sirens.

So Theo will have to return that trust with his own. And somehow, figure out the rest of it along the way.

“They don’t know we’ve talked, do we?”

“I told them you wanted to help, but that’s it.”

“And they didn’t question that?”

Liam shakes his head, “It’s not like they haven’t seen what I’ve seen.”

“You know, I expected all of you to put up more of a resistance to me. I expected you, specifically, to break my nose again and toss me out of Beacon Hills.”

Liam shrugs. “We’re all works in progress.”

“Are you quoting Peter right now?”

“Just because he was a megalomaniac doesn’t mean he couldn’t be right sometimes. He’s a smart guy.” There’s a bit of a disbelieving grin on Liam’s face as he says it, like he can’t believe what he’s admitting to.

“True. But…” Theo looks over to Liam again, contemplating the beta. “It must have been a lot to process. It’s like, you’re growing up or something.”

“Or maybe I just talk to Scott a lot.”

“Do you?”

“I mean, I keep them all up to date on everything that’s going on.”

“And if you didn’t,” Theo exchanges a knowing glance with Liam. “Stiles would probably call the damn army down to Beacon Hills.”

“Yeah,” Liam’s lips twist in an approximation of a smile. “But they generally seem to think I have it handled, which is, well…”

“A lot of pressure?”

“Yeah,” The beta says again, lips twisting downwards now, “But Scott, I guess he knows what it’s like to try and be a leader, so we talk a lot. He gives me different perspectives to think about, and so do Mason and Corey, of course.”

Theo generally has a good idea of what Scott would say, all likely in the vein of ‘We gave him a chance so let him try’ or ‘Everyone deserves a second chance’ and all other sorts of positive nonsense. What Mason and Corey would discuss with Liam, though, he isn’t sure about. They’d encourage him, tell him he was chosen for a reason, to trust him. That, of course, he had what it takes. All things Liam was used to hearing, but was that what he needed?

He turns his attention back to the beta. “Talking to them is just part of it. The rest of it has to come from you.”

Liam barks out a dry, humourless laugh. “I guess that comes with being a pseudo-Alpha who’s not actually an Alpha.”

Theo gives the beta a side-long glance, hiding a grin. “I wasn’t an Alpha. And I had a chimera pack.” Liam gives him a scathing glare. “Too soon? Okay, too soon.”

“I just…” Liam sighs, his brow furrowing. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, you know? How I’m supposed to live up to Scott.”

“Then don’t.”

“What? That’s not—”

“You’re not Scott,” Theo says firmly. “No one is, except him. So don’t try to become the type of leader he was, be your own leader.”

“I don’t know what that is.” The beta runs a hand over his face, exasperated, tired.

“Yet. You don’t know what kind of leader you are, yet. And I don’t think Scott was trying to get you to actually be an Alpha, whether it’s in name only or with actual red glowing eyes. If he was, then that wouldn’t be fair to you, to put that kind of pressure and expectation on you when you didn’t ask for it.”

“Neither did Scott.” Liam points out.

“Yeah, but that’s Scott. He embraced it, didn’t he? It doesn’t mean he should expect the same of you. And I don’t think he was. Because of what happened to him, he knows better.”

“Then what do you think he was trying to do?”

Theo pauses as he turns the trunk around a corner, giving him a chance to weigh his words carefully.

“I think he’s giving you the chance to discover what you can be, what you want to choose for yourself. Scott’s the leader, yes, but there are different kinds of leadership.” Theo looks over at Liam, waiting until the beta returns his gaze, wanting his words to reach him. “What you find in yourself could be very different from Scott.”

Liam is quiet and contemplative for the last few minutes of their drive, and Theo takes a minute to let everything sink in.

He feels… off-kilter. Has since his conversation with Liam back at the Animal Clinic, and all through this exchange, too. Like drifting detritus and debris, shifting with the ocean’s current, searching for a place to settle, though the ebb and flow of the waves is milder than it had been before. But there’s something else — something lighter within him. And it’s not just because Liam is on his side.

It takes a moment for Theo to place it. For once, all the skills he’d honed, everything in him that had been crafted for manipulation and destruction, had been used for something good. His ability to read people, to unravel who they were at their core — now wielded like a torch, illuminating a path of understanding for someone else.

Luckily, they’ve just pulled into Liam’s driveway because Theo would have probably driven them into a lamppost from the shock.

Maybe this is what he's meant to do to deserve the chance that he’s been given?

“You know, you should think about that too.” Liam’s words remove Theo from his quiet contemplations.

The chimera turns to give him a look of barely concealed disgust. “Me as Scott? No, thank you.”

“No, think of you coming back as your chance to discover what you can be. Wanting to help us is just one thing. What else is there to you?”

***

Theo wakes up the next morning to find himself added into a group chat with all the members of the Puppy Pack. It’s called ‘Theo is in this one’.

He changes it to ‘Puppy Pack + One Grown Up’.

Liam changes it to ‘Shut Up Theo’.

***

“Here.” Theo blinks down at the sheaf of papers on his desk, dropped there by Lyra who’d made a beeline for him as soon as she saw him sitting in the classroom. “It’s all the homework you missed while you were sick.”

Technically, he hadn’t been sick. He’d been healing out in the preserve for the last couple of days, not wanting to go to classes whilst still bruised and cut up. Deaton had given him the days off to recover, not taking no for an answer, and he’d spent them wandering amongst the greenery, gardening in the grove, wishing Maxie could have been out there with him. Nights were spent actually sleeping for once. Exhaustion from the poison, fights, and healing had won over, and his nightmares hadn’t been as debilitating, as smothering.

Maybe it was the fatigue, or the conversations he’d had with Liam, but either way, Theo had taken advantage, sleeping as much as he could as soon as it went dark. But not before getting his fill of the night sky, the dark layer of blue dressed up with pinpricks of light, as always, a comforting respite.

“How did you know I was sick?”

“I heard that lacrosse guy tell the teacher,” Lyra answers as she settles in at the desk next to Theo, her permanent place now in the classes they shared. “I think he wanted to collect your homework for you, but I volunteered.”

Way to be strategic, Liam, Theo thinks to himself, feeling proud of the beta. He’d told him about his doubts about Lyra, and though Liam agreed with Mason about not letting their suspicions get the best of them, he also agreed with Theo about keeping an eye on her.

Theo shuffles through the pile on his desk — Lyra had even gone out of her way to collect homework from classes they didn’t have together. But…

“You didn’t take any notes for me?” He gapes at her in mock consternation.

She gives him a dry look over her new glasses, “We’re not that good friends.”

“Yet.” Theo tells her with a grin.

The petite girl purses her lips as she flips open her textbook. “Too much speculation. We’ll get there if we get there.”

Theo laughs at that. It’s just like Lyra — pragmatic to a fault, blunt and unfiltered to the edge of offensiveness. But she’s so guileless in the way she delivers it, Theo can’t help but enjoy their exchanges.

“What happened to you anyway?”

He shrugs. “The flu.”

She swings her gaze over to him, aghast. “And you’re back already? Are you still contagious?”

Theo rolls his eyes. “Do I look sick?”

Lyra takes the opportunity to run her eyes over him, studying his face carefully before perusing the rest of his body. It’s almost clinical, the way she does it, like she’s considering the best way to tackle a particularly complex math problem before actually diving in.

“I suppose you look fine.”

“Just fine? Not… athletic?”

“You know, this is exactly one of the reasons why I don’t have high hopes for our friendship.” She turns back to her textbook.

Theo laughs again. “And yet, you’re still here.”

“I have yet to find another friendship candidate who’s willing.”

“Maybe because you call us ‘candidates.’”

“And yet,” Her eyes slide over to Theo’s, alight with a little mischief, “You’re still here.”

He grins. She smiles back. And Theo wishes that he didn’t have to wish it were real.

“Anyway,” She starts again, “I didn’t mean to be so unfeeling about it. I’m glad you’re feeling better, I just have to be careful around sickness because my grandmother is pretty old.”

He chooses his words carefully. “And it’s just the two of you?”

“Yes,” She looks frankly at him. “I never knew my father, and my mother died when I was young.”

“Oh. Do you mind if I ask how?”

“She drowned.” Lyra goes back to her book at that statement, delivered like a simple fact, no emotion or nuance behind it. Like it just was.

The flash of memory comes again, just as Theo expected it would: a girl, a sister, a daughter thrashing desperately in the water. But with some effort, a deep breath, and a clenched fist, Theo pushes it away, needing to use the opportunity to learn more about Lyra.

She hadn’t been lying when she said it, or at the very least, not entirely. Theo had heard her heartbeat, steady, if a little fast, and she smelled of true grief and pain. She had lost someone. But one could be exceptionally good at lying, as he well knew — it might not have been a mother.

Or, maybe it was all true. Maybe Theo was just being too suspicious of everyone around him, like Mason had said he was.

“I’m sorry.” He says quietly to her, and he is.

She turns back to him, her gaze a little softer now, some small emotion hidden deep behind her eyes. “It’s okay. I was young, and I still have my grandmother. She’s taken care of me ever since.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

This time, he can’t stop the images that come washing over him. The river, the bridge, and now it’s Lyra in the water, Lyra pleading for help, Lyra begging for him to save her, to not leave her alone, to not let her die. But he can’t help, because he didn’t help Tara, he chose to let his sister die, chose to send her to a watery grave, all for a heart that shouldn’t even work for him. And if he did that to Tara, then he would do this to Lyra. He would leave her and—

“Theo?” The chimera is physically jolted out of the vision by a finger poking at his hand. It’s Lyra, a frown on her face..

“Yeah?” The word comes out as a whisper.

Lyra’s frown deepens for a second, before it’s wiped off, as though she’d decided that it wasn’t important right now. She jerks her head to the side, toward the door. “Someone’s looking for you.”

***

“What’s up?” Theo asks Mason and Corey, his voice now back to normal — easy, breezy, chimera-may-care-y.

“We haven’t seen you in a few days.” Mason observes.

Theo gives them a weird, questioning look. “Didn’t want to scare people while I still had cuts and bruises from the siren fight.”

“But…” Corey hesitates, looking back at his boyfriend, who nods. “You’ve healed up okay?”

Theo opens his mouth, then closes it, not entirely sure what to say. They hadn’t actually come to check on him just because he’d been the most injured from the attack, right? Parrish had been pretty badly hurt, too.

Corey starts to shift on his feet while they wait for Theo to answer, and the chimera finally finds his words. “Um, yes. Thanks?”

Corey nods, Mason following along, the pair of them looking like a strange two-headed bobble toy. When they don’t immediately make to leave, Theo speaks again.

“Was… that all you wanted?”

“Well,” Mason hesitates this time, and Theo hopes to a god he doesn’t believe in that he isn’t going to enquire about his general health because one awkward experience is all he can tolerate right now. “We were wondering about what happened with the siren. When it was just you and Liam, I mean.”

“Didn’t we already go through all that at the clinic?”

“Yeah, but Liam said that the siren wanted one of you, right?”

“We weren’t sure who she wanted.”

“But she attacked Liam?”

Ah, now this makes more sense.

“Yes, and she was going in for the kill, too.”

“So, she might have wanted to kill Liam. Maybe because he’s Scott’s beta? Do they even know about Scott?” Corey ponders.

“It’s probably safer to assume the sirens know more than we think.” Mason points out before continuing. “But it’s also possible that she wanted to kill Liam to get to you, Theo.”

“As much as I love being reminded of yet another horrifying experience with a creepy bird woman,” Theo interrupts dryly, “I’m guessing what you’re thinking is that the supernatural water poisoning may have been a distraction — that they did it specifically to get to either Liam or me.”

“Yes.”

“Liam is the more likely of us to be the target.” Theo reminds them, “Like you said, he is the beta of a True Alpha.” And therefore, extremely valuable, as he well knew.

Corey and Mason don’t make any move to protest, and really, it should sting, except that it’s simple fact.

“I just wish we could find out for sure.” Mason finally says, rubbing his forehead.

Theo glances back at Lyra, the girl utterly immersed in her book. He turns to Mason and Corey, an idea stirring in his mind.

“I have a plan. Will you help me?”

The couple share a brief look, a silent exchange passing between them. Then Corey nods. “What do you have in mind?”

Chapter Text

“Remind me again why we’re not involving Liam in this?” Mason asks apprehensively, as he drives toward the Beacon Hills Preserve, Corey and Theo in tow.

Theo had protested at first, arguing there was no need to pile into one vehicle when he had his own set of wheels. But Corey had pointed out that where they were headed, it was best to stay inconspicuous. And for that purpose, one vehicle was better than two, and a car was better than a truck.

“He’s the most likely target. And he won’t like it.” Theo answers.

“What about Nolan and Alec? We could have called them for help.”

“I won’t like it if they’re here.”

“They grow on you.” Corey says, turning to look at Theo in the backseat.

“Yeah, like a fungus.” Theo mutters, the couple exchanging bemused looks, like they wanted to laugh but knew they probably shouldn’t.

“I know we agreed that to do this,” Mason continues, “But it still feels weird not telling Liam.”

“I said I didn’t want to involve him.” Theo points out, nodding his head toward Mason’s phone. “You’re very welcome to call him yourself.”

“So,” He says loudly and deliberately, his eyes meeting the chimera’s in the rearview mirror for a beat. “Why did you ask us to come with you instead of Liam?”

Theo gives him a sarcastic look. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he wouldn’t agree to do it? And you were the ones there with me when I came up with it? And if that isn’t enough, invisibility is integral to the plan, which sadly, neither Liam nor I can manage.”

“I agree, though,” Corey adds, “It’s kind of weird you chose us.”

“Did you not listen to a word I just said?” Theo exclaims, exasperated. Seriously, if these had been Scott’s two other choices, no wonder Liam ended up de facto leader of the Puppy Pack.

“It’s just that you two always end up doing a lot of things together, just you and him.”

“You make it sound like we go shopping and to the movies.” The chimera gestures sarcastically. “Need I remind you that most of those situations have been out of necessity, and usually in times of peril?”

Mason shrugs. “I think you work well together.”

“Yeah,” Corey agrees, before Theo can blurt out whatever protest had been forming in his throat. “I don’t know what it is, but it works.”

“It works because I’m good at being the bait.” Theo responds dryly, though he’s not entirely sure if that was true anymore. That had been the foundation of whatever he had with the beta at the beginning, but now, things seemed to be following a different path. He thinks.

“Not really,” Mason says thoughtfully, and for a moment, Theo wishes he had scars he could point to as evidence: Ghost Riders, Hunters, Sirens. “It’s like... you bring out something different in each other. Something that’s harder for anyone else to do.”

“Like I stop him from doing things he’ll regret when he’s in rage mode, and he makes me less murder-y?”

“There’s more to it than just that. I don’t know exactly. But I’ll figure it out eventually.”

“Don’t bother,” Theo scoffs, brushing off whatever Mason was getting at. The saying if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it was a saying for a reason. “As long as it gets us through this whole siren thing, who cares how it works?”

Neither Mason nor Corey says anything else for the rest of the drive, though the silence between them all is contemplative. Theo doesn’t know what to make of it.

***

“So what exactly are we looking for?” Corey asks as they climb out of the car, parked at what they hope is a safe enough distance from the lake.

“A few things.”

“Go on.”

“Firstly, since we’re here,” The chimera pulls out a bag of empty bottles, “We can collect some extra siren water, just in case.”

“Why do I feel like you’re doing the whole ‘good news first, bad news later’ thing?” Corey eyes him suspiciously.

“Secondly, we need to go to the house.”

“The house?” Mason looks appalled as he says it, while Corey is wide-eyed.

Theo nods.

“The old abandoned house that you said gave you the creeps?”

“Technically,” The chimera waves an imperious finger in the air, “I said it gave me the heebie jeebies.”

“That just means ‘creeps’ that also gives you goosebumps!” Corey whines before cradling his head in his hands.

“Hey, you were the ones who agreed that investigating the lake was a good idea!”

“Technically,” Mason pronounces, “I distinctly said it was a bad idea, but the only one we had. Now that I know it’s the house you want to see, I am upgrading this plan from threat level ‘bad’ to threat level ‘horrific’.”

Theo just gives him a look. “But?”

“But it is the only chance we have of learning what the sirens want with the supernaturals. And maybe even finding out who they are.”

Corey groans.

“Babe, you know we’re right.”

“Yes. But I don’t have to like it.”

Theo badly stifles a snort, causing the two younger boys to look questioningly at him. “You sound almost like Liam.”

The chameleon narrows his eyes. “Why do I feel like there’s an insult in there, somewhere.”

“Do you want to waste time finding the insult, or do you want to go find the lake?”

Mason sighs. “Want is a strong word, but yeah, fine.”

Corey threads his arm through Mason’s, turning to meet Theo’s gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, he offers his hand. “Let’s go.”

Theo takes it, and together, the three of them disappear into Corey’s dimension.

***

“This feels… wrong.”

The lake looked the same — still, calm, bright azure blue, but it didn’t feel as peaceful as before, as benevolent. It wasn’t an obvious form of discomfort, not like back at Templo Mayor. The air around them was still warm from the sun hanging high in the sky, and Theo didn’t feel the hairs on his arms rising, didn’t feel like he was in the presence of something malefic or sinister. But it wasn’t right. It wasn’t the same.

Corey, to Theo’s right, frowns at the seemingly picturesque scene. “It just looks like a lake.”

“You don’t feel weird?”

His fellow chimera frowns harder as he stares out at the lake and hills, Mason doing the same. “What is it supposed to feel like?” He finally asks.

“Soothing. Tranquil. Like… anyone can just exist here as they are.” The couple only looks more confused. “I don’t have the words.”

“You, of all people, don’t have the words?” Mason asks skeptically.

“It’s like…” Theo furrows his brows, searching for the best way to explain everything that the lake had originally made him feel, finding that he’d have to use the words of another. “Do you know Tintern Abbey?”

“I think you mean Downton Abbey.” Mason declares, almost vibrating with excitement, clearly longing to be asked ‘what is Downton Abbey?’.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Do you not read? It’s a poem.”

“You,” Corey remarks skeptically, “Theo Raeken, the great and powerful first chimera, reads poetry?”

“Is that why you joined the book club?” Mason asks curiously.

“Is that what’s important right now?” The chimera snaps back.

“Maybe.” There’s a strange look in the human’s eyes.

“Ugh, just… look, the poem is basically about this guy who once found this really beautiful landscape, and he’s reflecting about how the natural world brings him a sense of calm and peace.”

They continue to look perturbed.

Theo closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to recall the words.

“‘To recognise
In nature and the language of the sense
The anchor of my purest thoughts, the nurse,
The guide, the guardian of my heart, and soul.’”

When Theo opens his eyes, both Mason and Corey are looking at him with their mouths slightly agape, surprise in their eyes, a slow dawning of comprehension in Mason’s.

He shifts on his feet, uncomfortable under their scrutiny. “What?” His voice comes out a little gruff, a little defensive. “You asked what it’s supposed to feel like. That’s what it felt like to me when I first saw it.”

“I get it.” Mason says quietly.

“I kind of get it?” Corey says doubtfully, “It’s just supposed to be a lake that makes you feel at peace?”

Theo bobs his head around, not quite a nod, not quite a shake. “Well, yes, but… more.”

“Liam warned us you might do that. Please don’t go all book nerd on us again — I think we get it.” The invisible chameleon begs.

“I get it.” Mason repeats, more conviction in his voice this time, a realisation in his gaze that hints at an understanding that goes deeper than merely the lake.

Theo looks away from the human’s eyes, swallowing. “Great, then let’s go.”

They approach the lakeshore, arm-in-arm, forming a strange sort of human factory line. Mason at one end, holding empty bottles across Corey’s body for Theo to uncap, before placing the empty vessels down by his feet.

“This feels very Human Centipede.” Mason mutters on a grunt as he bends down.

“That sounds like something I don’t want to know about.”

Mason whips his head around. “How have you not seen it?! It’s like, a cult favourite!”

“Not much time for watching television with the Dread Doctors.” Theo remarks wryly.

Mason shrugs. “That just means you can watch everything at once, no need to wait for all the new episodes and sequels! Like Human Centipede, which is just the first sequence. There’s also the second and third, though personally, I thought that the first was…”

Corey catches Theo’s gaze, shaking his head frantically. Theo’s eyes widen as he gets the message.

“I’ll uh, get right on that once all the siren stuff is over.” He says, interrupting Mason’s spiel, that frankly, sounded disgusting. “If we’re still alive.”

“Oh, we are for sure going to still be alive, because I am going to make a whole list of things for you to watch, and you are going to watch them all. In the order I give you.”

“Well, I don’t really—”

Mason narrows his eyes at the chimera, looking suddenly and unexpectedly dangerous. “I may not be able to make anyone else watch things, but I can force you.”

“Uh, I have claws.” Theo flicks them out for emphasis. The human didn’t even have the decency to flinch.

“You owe us.”

“Thought that’s what I was already doing.” Theo waves his free arm across their bodies at the lake.

“This is how you make it up to me.” Mason turns back to the bottles, leaving Theo and Corey to look at each other in mutual bewilderment.

It’s funny how mundane this all feels, no suspicious glances, no threats, no interrogations. It’s all so normal, it makes Theo feel abnormal. Again, like this type of interaction hadn’t been earned. And while Mason had sounded and smelled sincere, Theo doesn’t think that catching up on a decade of pop culture will earn Mason’s trust, and by extension, Corey’s.

But it’s something.

With all the bottles finally uncapped, the three of them shift their positions, making it so that they’re still connected and invisible, but Mason now has use of both his hands to fill their bottles up with water, with Theo and Corey taking lookout duty.

“Okay,” The human mutters, “Here goes.”

He picks up a bottle, bending down toward the water, dipping first the tip, then the middle, ready to fill the bottle up to the brim by plunging it beneath the surface. Along with his hand.

Oh shit.

“Wait!” Theo yelps, yanking backwards at Corey, effectively pulling them all back from the water’s edge. They end up in a tangled heap on the gravel, thankfully, still connected and invisible, the chameleon determinedly tethering them.

Mason’s head turns to glare at Theo from his position under Corey’s ankles. “Why did you do that? This was your idea!”

“It’s a bad idea.”

The human huffs in exasperation. “We already agreed that it’s a bad idea.”

“No, listen.” Theo clambers off Corey, using the hand that still held him to pull him up. “If the lake is different, it’s probably because it’s darker, and the sirens have been doing something to it. Like at Templo Mayor, when they flooded the region. I don’t think we should be putting our hands in there.”

Corey nods contemplatively as he pulls his boyfriend to stand. “That makes sense. We probably shouldn’t try to use any of the water for healing either.”

“So, now we’re foregoing the ‘bad’ part of the plan and just going straight to the ‘horrific’ portion?” Mason groans.

“Do you really want to put your hands in water that could be cursed or something?”

“No, I just wish we had decided this before we spent fifteen minutes unscrewing bottle caps like an even weirder version of those conjoined twins from that Matt Damon movie.”

“Me too, could have avoided all that Human Centipede nonsense.” Theo says under his breath as they start to gather the wasted water bottles, putting them back into the bag.

“So, the house now?” Corey asks.

“The house now.” Mason sighs.

***

The house is different, too.

The wooden stilts on which the house stood over the water had been reinforced with steel, creating a more solid and permanent foundation. Dead moss and ivy had been cleared from the broken walls, replaced by scaffolding. The shards of broken glass at the windows had been removed, though the frames remained empty, waiting to be filled again. A variety of tools littered the area haphazardly, giving the impression that work had been suddenly paused, as if whoever had been there had simply disappeared.

“That doesn’t look abandoned.” Corey’s voice comes out in a whisper, filled with apprehension.

“I guess we know why they took the construction workers and materials.” Mason adds, also sounding worried. “Do we think they possessed them, or just coerced them to work by being terrifying?”

“I think,” Theo says slowly, “That I’m a little more worried about where they are.”

“That’s… too many questions.”

“I know.”

“I knew this was threat level ‘horrific’.”

“Maybe we should leave,” Corey suggests, though the tone of his voice indicates that he knew it was wishful thinking.

“No,” Theo says firmly, as the chameleon deflates, “We’re invisible. I doubt they know you can do that. Coming here was always going to be a risk, and this is the best case scenario — we’re alone.”

“Are you sure?”

Theo flashes his eyes, sniffing the air again, though he’d already done that earlier. “I only smell fumes from whatever they were using to restore the house. I don’t sense any others at all.”

“At all?” Mason questions sharply, his tone more worried than the situation warranted.

Theo frowns at the human. “I may not be a real werewolf or whatever, but I have similar abilities, you know.”

Mason shakes his head, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. The furrows between his brows deepened. “You don’t smell any like, sweat from the workers or the emotions they were feeling, anything like that?”

Oh. Theo sniffs the air again, even harder this time, and when nothing except fumes and fresh air fills his nasal cavities, he starts to feel the goosebumps forming on his arms. “No. And I see your point.”

“Okay, okay.” Mason breathes in, then out. “We can freak out about this later. Now, we focus on the house.”

***

“Well, at least we know no one is living here.” Corey says, his voice hushed, though relieved.

Where the exterior was being repaired, the interior was still a wreck. Floorboards were missing, exposing the water below them, the soft ebb and flow making them all uneasy. Some of the walls were broken, and decaying remains of furniture and other household items were strewn about the place.

“That makes me feel worse, somehow.” Mason replies.

“Do you think they… live in the water?”

Theo shoots his fellow chimera a look of disbelief. “They may be spirits, but sirens are human too.”

“So are kitsune.”

“And wasn’t Kira born in New York? What, did you think she lived in a foxhole or something?”

“Actually, they’re called dens.” Mason adds helpfully.

Theo rolls his eyes. “We can Google and find out who’s right later. For now, can we focus on the house, please?”

It’s a weird way to explore, the three of them wandering around with their arms still linked to remain invisible.

They roam about the place, coming across more clutter — a wooden chair with its backrest broken off, a table with only three legs, a cracked bed frame that sits precariously at the edge of a particularly large hole. The unmistakable signs of someone, or something, having once lived there long ago.

At the end of what was once a master bedroom, they find a wardrobe, one of its doors hanging limply, detached from all but one of its hinges.

“You know,” Corey whispers, “It just occurred to me that if I were a siren, I wouldn’t hide my top secret plans in an obvious place, like my old house.”

“It could be a red herring,” Mason whispers back, “Like hiding things in plain sight.”

“If I were the siren,” Theo jumps in, “I would keep my plans where no one could get to them.”

The couple look to him expectantly.

“In my head.” Obviously.

“Anyway,” Mason ignores the chimera, turning to say placatingly to his boyfriend, “We’re just here to see what we can find. Like a reason for why they left and why they’re back.”

Theo nods in agreement, then narrows his eyes as something on the edge of a wardrobe door catches his attention. He tugs them over toward it, all of them gingerly picking their way across the rotten, splintered floorboards.

A loud creak snaps through the air as Theo slowly pushes the doors open, all of them tensing up at the sound that carves through the hush they’d been trying to maintain.

Papers line the inside of the wardrobe doors — handwritten notes and old newspaper articles. Some are clipped straight from the paper, others look like printed copies. Theo recognises many of them — he’d kept a similar collection once, carefully assembled during his time with the Dread Doctors.

One door held papers that were torn, water-stained, or yellowed with age. Only fragments of words and images remain, leaving just enough to hint at what they once said. Headlines cut off mid-sentence. Faces half-missing. The other door’s contents looked fresher, like they’d been placed there recently. But it’s enough for all three observers to know exactly the story the sirens had been following.

There’s a section following the closure of an internment camp near Beacon Hills during World War II. It’s innocuous, just stating that the detainees had been released or moved to other facilities, but it’s attached to a drawing of a large tree, with scribblings all over it: ‘explosion???’, ‘disease = massacre?’, and ‘fox’.

Another covered a series of murders and missing persons across 2002 to 2003. Some were licensed arms dealers and private security consultants, others were ordinary citizens or travellers. Attached was another sketch of a tree, now a stump, tacked next to an article about a missing teenage girl named Paige. The words ‘drained but revived?’ had been written there.

Others covered a host of familiar occurrences. A 2005 house fire that killed most of the inhabitants - The Hale house; mysterious wild animal killings throughout 2011 - Peter and the Kanima; murders taking the form of sacrificial rituals - the Darach; the escape of William Barrow - the Nogitsune; a string of deaths carried out by professional hitmen - the Deadpool. It went on and on, covering the victims of the Dread Doctors and the Beast of Gévaudan, even the Ghost Riders and the Hunter Army, blamed in the news as mass hysteria.

What was most unsettling were all too familiar words scribbled across all these pieces — the names of the McCall pack, past and present, and even everyone peripherally involved with them. Melissa, Argent, Deaton, Parrish, Stilinski, Derek, Peter, Deucalion. Theo.

“They know about everything,” Corey breathes, his eyes wide with dread, “And everyone.”

“These words,” Mason leaned forward, pointing out three distinct words written in red ink across three particular incidents. “I recognise them. It’s Greek — I’ve seen them referenced in some mythology studies.”

The human leans closer, brows drawn as he reads the articles, mouthing the words to himself, clearly trying to decipher the meaning behind it all, with Theo leaning in close behind him to do the same.

“Do you recognise the Greek words?” Mason asks.

“No. Why would I?”

“You like books and stories, don’t you? These words signify the critical points in mythic arcs.”

“I like reading. I’m not a mythologist.”

Corey pulls out his phone, snapping as many pictures of the doors as he can. “Can we save the nerd stuff for later — I think them knowing our names and what we’ve done is our sign to get out of here.”

Once they’re all satisfied with the pictures, they start to leave. Theo expects the floorboards to give out below them — it’s hard to believe they could have enough good luck to simply leave this chilling place without incident. But they manage it.

Only, when they near Mason’s car and finally drop their invisibility shield, their luck runs out.

A siren steps out from behind a tree, the one with black hair, dark green scales and feathers. The same one who’d attacked Theo all those weeks ago. She hisses at them, baring her dangerously sharp teeth.

“Ah, fuck.” Theo mutters under his breath, the couple beside him echoing his sentiment.

"You think you can just disturb our sanctum and leave?" Her voice cuts through the air, abrasive and jagged, unrecognisable as any human voice.

“We were just, uh...” Corey stammers, his voice trembling. “Out for a walk.”

“How did you know?” Theo demands, his voice sharp and challenging.

“We know when our waters are disturbed.”

Theo nods curtly, his eyes narrowing. “Good to know.” In one swift motion, he flicks out his claws, his fangs descending as he steps forward, placing himself in front of the couple. “Shall we?”

For a split second, the siren hesitates — just a flash of doubt before her resolve hardens, then she plants her feet, ready to strike.

“Run,” Theo growls, his eyes never leaving the siren.

“What—no—” Mason starts to protest, but Theo doesn’t hear what he says.

He knows exactly what’s coming: the siren will come for him. He’s the biggest threat, the one who’s armed and ready, the one she’d want to neutralise first. Every muscle in his body tightens, preparing for the impact.

Then he catches the flicker of her eyes.

In a desperate move, his muscles protesting the sudden strain, Theo hurls himself into Mason and Corey, sending them sprawling just as the siren’s talons come down. He’s left wide open, and in an instant, sharp talons rake down his chest. A howl of pain rips from his throat as he reels backwards, the metallic scent of blood filling the air, the dark liquid already soaking into his clothes.

Sirens may have speed on werewolves, or pseudo werewolf-coyotes, but Theo is prepared for it this time — he spins as she comes at him again, and then he’s on her, slashing with his claws across her face. The shriek that bursts from her is raw, a deafening, jagged sound that gnaws at his eardrums, but he keeps going, hoping that Mason and Corey are finally making good on his order for them to run.

In the melee, Theo realises something: this siren isn’t like the red-haired one. She’s not relishing the fight, not revelling in the chaos — this clash feels more like a necessity, not a fun diversion to pass the time. But she wasn’t lacking in her abilities, as evidenced by the well-placed roundhouse kick she lands on his face that sends him stumbling.

The chimera forces himself away a few more steps, knowing that the extra moment he needs to shake off the blow is prime opportunity for her to lash out with her especially damaging talons. Any additional distance he puts between them could give him some advantage. But his head is reeling.

A sickening thud rips through the air. Theo blinks, snapping back into focus just in time to see the siren crumple to the ground. Mason stands behind her, holding his metal bat, his wide eyes showing a mix of disbelief and pride. His expression says it all: he didn’t think it would work.

Theo’s heart pounds, but there’s no time for relief. “I should get one of those,” he grunts, trying to steady himself as Corey pulls him up by the arm, dragging him toward the car. Mason follows close behind. “Wait, we can take her!”

“Not this close to the lake.” Corey urges in a low and urgent voice. “She might still be able to sing from here.”

“No,” Theo says, shaking his head, pulling against the chameleon’s grasp. “I mean, we can take her. She’s knocked out cold.”

As if on cue, the siren’s fingers twitch, and she begins to stir.

“Never mind!” Theo yelps, his voice cracking with panic as he begins to scramble toward the car of his own accord. “You’re right! Let’s go!”

They jump into the car, the engine roaring to life before all the doors are closed. The last thing they see as they speed away is the siren pulling herself up on her feet, her sea-green eyes a bright, portentous glare in the rearview mirror.

***

“Just once,” Theo groans from where he’s lying in the backseat, Corey on top of him, trying to staunch the blood flow with whatever he could find in the car, “I want to walk away from a siren without bleeding. Just once.”

“You could have,” Mason says, eyes crinkled with worry, looking over at him through the rearview mirror, “You pushed us away.”

“Was I supposed to just leave you to it? What were you gonna do, throw ancient Greek words at her?”

“I can heal, too.” Corey protests, ripping strips from Theo’s tattered t-shirt to use as bandages.

“But you can’t protect Mason.” He points out. The chameleon deflates, his eyes drifting away from Theo’s face. “Not like I can. And you played your part. We got through undetected.” He’s not sure why he feels the need to tell his fellow chimera that.

“You are literally bleeding in front of me.”

“That wasn’t your fault — we disturbed the water. That was my idea.”

“It’s not your fault either,” Mason speaks up, “None of us could have known that.”

“I’m supposed to be the strategic one, aren’t I?”

“Didn’t you say I’m the brains of the group? I missed that detail too.”

“If we’re all going to blame ourselves,” Corey snaps, “Then I’m going to blame myself for not holding the invisibility till we got in the car.”

“Babe, that was a unanimous group decision.”

“Then let’s all stop blaming ourselves and focus on what’s next.”

“He’s right,” Theo says reluctantly, turning gingerly so the chameleon could wrap the bandages around his back, “Your part is coming up, Mason.”

“We can all Google those words, you know. It wouldn’t be hard to figure out.”

“True, but you’re best at the whole mythology thing, aren’t you? You’ll see something we won’t.”

The couple are silent for a long moment.

“What?”

“It’s still so weird being complimented by you.” Corey says quietly.

Theo rolls his eyes. “I am simply pointing out facts that are also assets.”

Mason’s silence is different, his eyes looking so penetratingly into Theo’s that it’s almost disarming. Finally, he speaks.

“So, what was your role, then? To be the bait, like you do for Liam?”

“Besides strategy, yeah. Obviously, I failed at the first part today.”

“No, you didn’t.” Theo looks back at Corey. “Those documents at the house might give us an idea of what the sirens are planning, and why. And based on what we know of the red-haired siren, it seems like we can assume the one we saw today is the younger one. We wouldn’t have found all that out if it weren’t for you.”

Theo blinks up at his fellow chimera, not sure what to say or think. Corey was right. Theo knew his strengths, knew his contributions weren’t insignificant, knew he saw openings and connections that didn’t come naturally to the rest. But why would Corey feel the need to point that out to him?

“You also made it so we got out without a scratch,” adds Mason

Theo cocks his head to the side, letting a smug smile come over his lips, though it’s not entirely genuine. “Well, who am I to say no to all this praise? You’re welcome.”

“But who made that your role?” Mason presses.

“Being the one who deserves praise? I was born that way.”

The human rolls his eyes. “No, being the bait.”

That wipes the expression from Theo’s face. He looks away. “What else is there for me?”

***

Liam’s waiting for them at the Animal Clinic when they get there, furious, his arms crossed and stance wide, like he’d been taking intimidation lessons from Derek. It was working.

“I think Liam figured out we skipped school.” Corey whispers to Mason and Theo.

Deaton steps out from the treatment room, eyes going wide at the bloody sight before him.

“Hey doc,” Theo groans out, “Sorry I’m late — got a little tied up.”

Deaton and Corey help the chimera onto the table while Mason and Liam follow behind.

“I cannot believe you three.”

“Liam, wai—” Mason tries to say.

“I cannot believe I had to ask Lyra where you were,” Liam slants his eyes over to Theo, who can only wonder why he’d been looking for him. “And she told me you skipped class.”

“Did she help me collect my homework again?” The chimera asks before he can help himself. Liam narrows his eyes into tiny slits. Theo is tempted to hold up a hand and ask if he could see how many fingers he was holding up.

“This is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had.”

“We just wanted to—” Mason tries again, his voice as placating as he could make it. Of course, he’s cut off.

“And I’m counting that time you wanted to go as a Na’vi for Comic Con but ended up buying the wrong paint so you were stained blue for three days.”

“Please tell me there are pictures?” Theo requests, Corey’s mouth twitching from his position near his chest. It was an important question, well worth the glare that Liam spears him with. He needed to see. For science.

“Corey used his new computer science powers to erase them all from existence.” Mason tells him.

“Damn.”

“Mason!” The beta’s growl has the formerly blue human snapping his gaze back towards him, a forlorn, hangdog expression on his face.

Theo flicks his eyes over to the chameleon, a silly, inane grin on his face. He mouths the words ‘I kept them’, and Theo grins back. Yay, a win for science.

“And you!” Theo blinks up at the beta, suddenly hovering over him, eyes running down all over Theo’s form, pausing at his torn-up chest. “Is it on your bucket list to be killed by a siren or something?”

“I think a bucket list is a series of things to do before kicking the bucket. Not, uh, ways to actually kick the bucket.”

“Stupidest. Idea. Ever.” Liam bites out, before pausing. “Did it work?”

Mason walks Liam through what had happened while Deaton and Corey dutifully pour siren water over Theo’s wounds. By the time they get to the papers and Greek words, Theo’s feeling better enough to sit up on the table.

Mason leans against a table, as if settling in for a long, drawn-out discussion. “Like I mentioned, these three words are used in mythology studies to indicate certain narrative elements that we see in mythic arcs. And these ones are especially specific, because they are all about critical turning points in stories.”

Theo frowns in thought. “So, if all those documents tell almost a century of Beacon Hill’s supernatural story, we should be able to identify what stood out most to the sirens. And what’s made them decide to take action now.”

Mason nods, while Liam and Corey just look between the two of them, as if happy to let them take the lead. Deaton watches them all with interest.

The human points to the first word, tagged to the article about Paige — Sēmeion. “It means a divine omen. Like a sign from god. The omen could foretell good or bad things. It depends on the story, depends on the person divining it.”

Memories stir in Theo’s head — stories from classic Greek literature he’d adored. “Like in The Iliad,” He chimes in, “When a Trojan warrior saw an eagle and interpreted it as foretelling the downfall of Hector in the Trojan War.”

“So the sirens think that Paige being killed by Derek is a sign of what?” Liam asks, brows furrowed.

“It was a significant point in time for the Nemeton,” Deaton muses, “That happened after it was cut down. The inadvertent virginal sacrifice fed the Nemeton some power.”

“But the question then is whether the sirens saw this as a good or bad sign,” Theo wonders. “The more powerful the Nemeton, the more protection for Beacon Hills. But it would also draw more supernatural creatures, which could also pose a threat to the lake.”

“Which is where the second word comes in.” Mason turns to the picture with the second word, written on a piece about ritual sacrifices — Katabasis. “It means a descent into darkness, like Orpheus going into the Underworld in search of Eurydice.”

The human meets Theo’s eyes as he says it, his own gleaming, like he was trying to prove that he, too, knew his Greek stories. Theo could play that game too. And he always played to win.

“Descents are common in Greek mythology, but it isn’t always literal. It could also mean a descent into chaos or madness, like Oedipus losing his sense of self and purpose when he realises the truth of what he’s done.” Theo shoots the human a triumphant look.

The human just huffs, turning away to look pointedly at Deaton. “This was during the time of the Darach, wasn’t it? And when Scott, Stiles, and Allison did their surrogate sacrifice ritual.”

The doctor nods.

“Anabasis is the opposite of Katabasis. So the choice of the latter word is important. This is when they decided things were going badly for Beacon Hills.”

Without waiting for them to respond, Mason turns to the last word, a bright splash of red on a piece about the deaths during the tyranny of the Beast of Gévaudan — Kairos. “The critical moment when action must be taken to tip the scales in one direction or the other.”

Mason moves to continue, and Theo opens his mouth, but Corey beats them to it. “Like when Patroclus dies in the Trojan War, and Achilles decides to fight after all!”

They gape at him. He grins back. “I remember the movie, we watched it together, Mase.”

“As I recall, you spent most of the time commenting on shirtless Eric Bana and Brad Pitt.”

“Is this a mythology contest?” Liam suddenly interrupts, “Because I have a lot of real facts about Troy, you know.”

“As diverting as that sounds,” Theo cuts in, “Maybe let’s focus on the sirens first?”

“When is it my turn to be a nerd?” Liam mutters irritably, Corey patting him on the back placatingly. Theo has to bite back a grin as he turns back to Mason.

“So,” Mason looks over the pictures again, “If we go back to the Texcoco sirens, maybe the lake being drained was their Kairos moment, hence the big flood. Like all of these three specific points lead to a situation where the sirens may feel the need to harness the lake's power instead of just protecting it.”

“It’s when they cross over to being dark sirens. A nexus point.” Theo realises.

“Yeah. To them, Beacon Hills is covered by a darkness that will affect the lake. That’s why they came back. And…” Mason hesitates, but everyone there knows what he’s about to say. “Now, they’ll stop at nothing to protect their lake.”

Everyone is still, silent, letting it all sink in. Sirens were already formidable with their natural abilities. What more would the power of the lake do?

“‘Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.’” Theo finds himself quoting, remembering the last time he’d thought that phrase had been when Liam had mentioned the hell they’d sent him to. Oh, how things had changed — now they were all pawns within this hellish game created by the sirens.

Liam and Mason frown at him, Corey heaving a world-weary sigh at the appearance of book nerd Theo.

“Isn’t that an achievement in Genshin Impact?” Mason questions.

“What? No!” Theo snaps, “That’s from The Divine Comedy by Dante, inscribed at the gates to hell! Can you please get some culture in you?”

“Can you both stop being nerds?!” Liam snaps at them, both human and chimera immediately giving the beta a sheepish look. “We haven’t even discussed the most worrying thing: our names are all over those papers.”

“They blame us,” Corey realises, a stricken expression coming over his face. “The Hale pack were the first protectors of Beacon Hills, and now it’s us. They think it’s our fault — we caused everything that has happened, haven’t guarded the town well enough, and that puts the lake in danger. Maybe they want to get rid of us, take over the job.”

Silently, Theo thinks they’re welcome to it. It’d been barely a year since he came back to Beacon Hills, and the pack had faced horrible things in all that time. One being him, of course, but, well, he was here to help now. The only problem was that the sirens wanted to kill in their bid to take over, maybe inflict even worse things on them all, even him, who wasn’t even pack.

“Then why didn’t both the sirens attack us at the pipe?” Liam points out. “With two of them, they could have killed most of us then.”

“Maybe they need to collect more souls first. It’ll be hard to take us all down at once, especially since they couldn’t sing there.” Corey adds.

“I think,” Mason says slowly, “That we may have figured out why they’re back, and what they want, but not how.”

Liam sighs. “Better than nothing, I guess.”

“Worth me getting mauled, then.” Theo quips, though all heads turn to glare at him. “What? It’s true — we learned something.”

Liam sighs again. “I hate that we can’t really do anything with this information. We know so much more, but what does it give us in the end?”

“‘Patience, young padawan’.” Mason puts a hand on Liam’s shoulder as he says it, though the beta shakes it off, scowling.

“Don’t you start your Star Trek shit with me now!”

“It’s Star Wars!” Mason hisses at him, and as Liam opens his mouth to no doubt lash out at his best friend’s, as always, ill-timed nerdiness, Theo stops him.

“He’s right.” Liam whips his glare over to the chimera, “Scott and the rest of the pack didn’t have all the answers whenever they fought the, I don’t know, Nogitsune or whatever. It took time. But they got there. We’ll get there too.” Theo looks steadily into Liam’s eyes. “You’ll get there.”

It feels like something passes between them, though for the life of him, Theo can’t tell what it is. Maybe Mason could, judging by the way his eyes keep darting back and forth between both beta and chimera.

And then something occurs to Theo.

“Deaton,” He says, leaning forward, “The lake had been abandoned for a long time, right?”

“That’s right.”

“But everything with the Beast happened almost a year ago. That means they could have been here since then, way before the first attack. We may have more siren suspects than we thought.”

The slow dawning realisation comes over everyone in the room, everyone thinking about all that they could have missed, that they might have to go even further back in one of the most important questions of all — who are the sirens?

A crashing sound from the front room has everyone jumping.

Alec and Nolan come barrelling through the door, the baby werewolf at such a speed that he slams into the frame.

“What did we miss?” He asks breathlessly.

Theo, Liam, Mason and Corey exchange looks. A slow, conspiratorial smile spreads on the chimera’s face, one that Liam returns.

The beta turns to the newbies. “We’ve got a job for you.”

Chapter Text

The early morning sun gently filters through the trees of the grove, shining down in patches and specks along the ground. Tiny spotlights shining down on green Angelica standing proud; clusters of Wormwood like small, tender hands reaching toward the light; pink and blue Cornflowers a sparkling starburst amongst the vegetation.

Life, all around Theo as he wanders in the grove, all uplifted to the sun that cradles them in its embrace, their roots stretching unseen through the dampened ground below. Theo himself, his face rising to feel the warmth, his feet firmly planted like he has no intention of moving, the beguiling mix of earthy, herbaceous, and floral scents in the air like a comforting caress.

He wants to lie down in the middle of the grove, to stare unblinking into the sky, basking in this delicate peace.

Instead, he bends toward the ground, collecting bunches of purple, flowering Hyssop, taking a moment to take in its camphorous scent, sharp but cool. He lays them down near the butter yellow Rue he’d gathered earlier — that was one smell he would prefer to avoid.

“Is this all we need?” He turns to the doctor, brushing the dirt off his hands as he does. Deaton is in the centre of the grove, arranging sticks and branches into what he’d told Theo was a pyre, some of the sticks ones the chimera himself had broken off during his earlier forays to the grove. It’s set in the centre of a circle of rocks.

Deaton glances behind him, toward the small pile of flowers, then nods. “Yes, that’s all we’ll need for now. We already have the Vervain back at the clinic.”

“Great.” Theo joins the doctor at the woodpile, trying his best to help, though he suspects any actual assistance would cause the entire structure to collapse. So, he satisfies himself with hovering behind Deaton, passing him sticks as needed.

After a few moments, the doctor steps back to survey his work. “That looks good. I think we’re ready.” With a match, he sets the pyre aflame.

They stand there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, gazing into the flame. Deaton reaches for a large bunch of wheat, separating it into two bundles and handing one to Theo.

“For Lughnasadh, we give thanks for our bounty, for that which brings us both life and death, concepts bound by existence, the thing that ties us all, whither we come, for all eternity.”

Deaton lays his bunch on the flame, then gestures for the chimera to follow suit. Theo reaches out, but hesitates, turning to look back at the doctor. “Do I need to say anything?”

Deaton smiles. “Lughnasadh is the Festival of First Fruits, but it has always meant gratitude to me. You don’t have to say anything, but if you’d like to, you can share what you’re grateful for.”

Theo nods, placing the wheat onto the pile, watching it as it burns. “Then I’m grateful for you taking a chance on me.”

Deaton’s smile brightens as he claps a hand on the chimera’s back. “It’s me who should be thankful — Scott would never have come out here to the grove with me, much less at this early hour. I gave him the responsibility of looking after the cactus we had in the clinic, and even that was a trial.”

“There is no cactus in the clinic.” Theo points out, knowing this from his role in watering the clinic plants.

Deaton’s smile turns mischievous. “Exactly.”

They look back into the flame, the easy silence between them stretching into minutes that pass comfortably.

There’s a crackle from the fire, and it brings out an urge in Theo to add something. “I also appreciate you taking me along today, letting me be a part of this. I’m no druid, and really, I’m much more interested in the plants than anything, but it’s always nice to be out here.”

“Well, if you’re going to be so forthcoming about all the things you’re grateful for, dare I ask if you’d like to add more to the list?”

Theo thinks for a second. “I’m grateful to Liam for deciding to believe in me. And Mason and Corey too, I suppose, even if they didn’t say it in so many words.”

Deaton tilts his head. “Interesting.”

“That I’m grateful?”

“That you said they decided to believe in you, not that they simply did. Like it was a choice they actively made, not something that naturally followed after you told Liam your truth.”

The chimera shrugs, not seeing the difference. “It’s a choice, either way, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but the word ‘decided’ almost seems to imply that you’re already prepared to lose what you’ve only just gained.”

“That’s always a possibility. Trust is conditional, as most things are.”

“And does that mean you’ll always be on tenterhooks? Waiting for the moment you lose their trust?”

Theo swallows. Vulnerability still isn’t easy for him, even though he knew it was necessary. Easier now, after everything he’d been through with Deaton. And Liam. But still a hard wall to breach.

“I haven’t had the best track record after all.”

The doctor is silent for a while, reaching forward to stoke the fire, leaving the chimera to shift nervously on his feet, wondering what the doctor is thinking. It’s a fact of his history, but Deaton had been the first to give him a chance — he wouldn’t hold that against him.

“I think what you’re feeling is an acute discomfort. Not so much because you’re waiting for the catch, but simply because this is a change of state. You’re off balance. This is all new to you. And it’s natural for us to want to revert to what we already know. It’s easier to believe you deserve hate than it is to believe that you might deserve a chance.

“Change takes time, effort. You’ve been climbing a mountain all this while, and now you’re faced with one of the steepest parts of your journey, where everything ahead of you is clouded from your sight.”

“This is where you tell me that I can choose to go back down to what is easy and familiar, or see what I can find on the other side, isn’t it?”

The corners of Deaton’s lips tug upwards as he answers. “It’s not the deepest metaphor, but an effective one. But people scale mountains in groups for a reason, you know. The pack is part of your climb, but they’re also on your side now.”

“Allies.” Theo breathes out, repeating what Liam had said to him before.

“Exactly.” The doctor nods, a little pride coming into his face. “And if I may add one more thing: yes, Liam chose to trust you. But that is his choice. Only he can change it.”

***

-Don’t think I’m forgiving you for bailing on breakfast today just because you sent me a few cute pictures of Maxie.- The mildly threatening, husky tones of Lyra come out tinny through the speaker of Theo’s phone, perched against a cup on the table where he was currently working on filing.

He grins. “Does that mean you’ll forgive me if I send you videos instead?”

-Maybe.- She pauses, -You can test that hypothesis with an experiment.-

“I’ll keep that in mind. So, how was breakfast anyway? Did you find that bread thing you’ve been looking for?”

-It’s not a bread thing!- She exclaims, appalled. -It’s a Shio Pan!-

“And it’s made of bread, isn’t it?”

-That doesn’t mean you can call it ‘a bread thing’, like it’s one of those heavily processed, machine-made, disgustingly bland concoctions you get at the store. It’s a Shio Pan, the oeuvre of all bread.-

“I’ll keep my expectations high then, for when I finally get to taste one.”

-If I can find a passable facsimile of it in this bread-forsaken town.- She mutters, censure dripping from every word.

“So, the mission wasn’t successful then.”

-I found a place claiming to make them.- Theo glances down at the girl, she’s lying on what looks like a sofa, her phone held towards her face, though her sulky gaze is turned up at the ceiling. -They should be sued for false advertising.-

“Please elaborate. What was it like?”

-In this particular case, ‘bread thing’ is probably accurate. It was hard — can you believe that?! A bread roll, hard?!-

“This is why I told you to just get croissants. They’re soft, buttery, and fluffy, like your shio whatever you keep going on about.”

-Croissants are the imbecile’s Shio Pan.- She scoffs, -And they’re flaky, not fluffy.-

“It might be the closest thing you can find in this, what did you call it, bread-forsaken town?”

She sighs. -You might be right. Not only was it hard, but it barely had any butter in it. And they used fine sea salt on top, instead of flaky salt. How does a bakery not have any flaky sea salt in their pantry?!-

Theo bites back a laugh. “Why do I feel like I’m going to see you on the news tomorrow, charged with arson, being dragged away from the fire, yelling ‘They didn’t have flaky sea salt! It is a crime against baking!’?”

-The thought crossed my mind,- She says so darkly and bluntly that for a second, Theo has a hard time figuring out if she’s serious or not. As if she sensed the direction of his thoughts, she glanced toward the screen. -Don’t worry, they made a nice chocolate muffin. Apparently, they’re known for their muffins.-

“And you went there for bread?”

-They were the only place I could find that sold Shio Pan!-

“Well, thank god for chocolate muffins, then,” Theo says in mock relief. “I don’t think I could afford to bail you out of jail.”

-That would give you a leg up in my friendship standing.-

“Ah, yes." He deadpans. "The battle for your friendship, where I am currently the only participant. How will I ever beat such insurmountable odds?”

-There you go, losing yet another point. Anyway, it wasn’t all that big a loss. I bumped into Mara. She told me she heard of a bakery near the outskirts of town that sells Shio Pan.-

“And what do they specialise in — cupcakes?”

-I Googled.- She glares at him through the screen. -They’re an artisan bread place, so there’s hope yet.-

“Lovely. I wish you good tidings on your quest.”

-Oh, you’re coming with me. You owe me breakfast.-

“This is just another of your sad ploys to get me to admit to the superiority of Shio Pan over croissants.

-It’s not a ploy because you will capitulate.-

“I’m not that easily sold over bread things, and croissants, I’ll have you know are the—”

“Theo?” Deaton pops his head into the small office.

“Sorry, Ly. Duty calls.”

-And superior bread will call for you soon. Bye!-

“Oh, I didn’t mean that you had to end your call.”

“It’s fine,” Theo waves a hand in the air. “What do you need?”

“I was just going to tell you that your shift is up.”

Theo glances at the clock on the wall. “No, I still have another three hours.”

“But you started much earlier today. Ergo, your shift is up.”

Theo doesn’t stop his filing. “I don’t mind staying.”

Deaton shakes his head with a smile. “Go get some rest, Theo. Or maybe some bread. What I overheard of your conversation has gotten even me craving some.”

Okay, bread did sound good. Theo stands, packing away the documents for his next shift, the doctor not making a move to leave the doorway. Theo looks up at him questioningly.

The doctor tosses something at him, and Theo catches it before it hits the table. “Your keys.”

Theo looks down at the shiny set in his hand. “Keys?”

“To the clinic.” They feel heavy in his hand, heavier than they should. “I meant to give that to you earlier, but couldn’t find the spare set. Turns out, Scott accidentally took both his and the spare set with him when he left town, and I haven’t had time until recently to get a new set made.”

“Oh.”

It’s just keys. And it made sense for Theo to have a set, for his job. But it doesn’t feel like just keys. It feels like something’s been unlocked, like they’re a physical representation of everything he’d been building with the doctor. Tangible, concrete, real. Not merely an invisible thread between them anymore.

It shouldn’t mean this much. It’s just keys. And the doctor probably meant it as just keys. But when Theo looks up, Deaton is watching him carefully.

There’s a frog in his throat as he says, “Thank you.”

The doctor nods, turning to leave, but Theo stops him, something even better than bread on his mind.

“Actually, Doc, can I take Maxie out again? Maybe to the park nearby this time instead of just around the block?”

The doctor narrows his eyes at the chimera good-naturedly, “You can, but I won’t be paying you for those extra hours.”

Theo agrees, eager for the extra time with Max. He heads out to get her ready, the dog clamouring excitedly at the sight of Theo with a leash in hand.

“Alright, my best girl,” He tells her as they head towards the front door. “Here’s our game plan: we’re going to have a little fun in the park, and you’re going to be so cute for the videos I take for Lyra. Extra cute, so she’ll forgive me when I tell her that croissants are the pinnacle of pastry. And then, we’ll go get an actual croissant! Maybe one for the good doctor, too. Sound good?”

She barks happily, tongue lolling out. Theo grins. “Of course you agree, because you’re not just the best girl but also the smartest. Let’s go!”

The tinkling sound of the bell over the door has Theo looking up, only to see Liam. For some reason, the beta looks almost surprised to find himself in the clinic. Nearly as surprised as the chimera is to see him.

They stare at each other.

“What’s wrong?” Theo demands when he finally finds his voice. “Did something happen? Is it the sirens?”

“No, no.” Liam shakes his head. “I was just uh… in the area.”

Theo looks at him skeptically. “Of the animal clinic?”

Liam shrugs, shifting on his feet. Almost… nervous? “My mum had an appointment in town and I was feeling restless, so I followed her. But turns out, it’s a manicure and I couldn’t sit there and do nothing. It’s the same thing as staying home.”

“You could get your claws painted. Maybe some extra sparkly glitter will distract the next thing that attacks us.”

Liam scowls, though there’s no real heat behind it. “Won’t change how it feels when I cut you with them.”

“Depends on the colour, perhaps. So what, you just came here to find me cause you were bored?”

Liam opens his mouth, only to close it again. Theo’s lips twitch as he waits for the beta to answer, though he feels strange himself. He’s not sure what he wants Liam to say.

“I came to see Maxie.” He finally says.

“Maxie? You mean the dog you’ve only met once before?" Theo raises an eyebrow.

“I like animals!”

“Do they remind you of yourself?” Theo inquires mildly, keeping his face placid.

The beta glares at him. “People like you are why we have two middle fingers.”

Theo laughs then. “I’m actually about to take her for a walk.”

“Oh. Okay.” Liam looks down at the floor for a second, his brows furrowing. “I’ll just… go then.”

Theo isn’t sure what makes him say it. They’re not friends, they’re allies. But… “Want to come with?”

“Oh! I, uh, sure?”

“Are you? You don’t sound sure.”

“Ugh, let’s just go.” The beta storms away, muttering to himself, while Theo and his laughter follow, Max happily bounding about before them.

***

The regular walks Theo and Deaton had been taking Max on had done wonders for her socialisation. The doctor had said it was possible she’d always be nervous around strangers, that there are some hurts you never fully recover from. But Theo chose to focus instead on the fact that she was happier now, healthier too, and that was all that mattered.

It had been the same with Liam, Max hiding behind Theo’s legs, eyeing him with equal suspicion and curiosity. But as always, the beta had been stubborn, never giving up. He’d instinctively known how to act around her, getting down on her level, putting a treat on the floor for her to take when she was ready. She’d get closer each time, eventually letting him pet her before darting back to Theo.

But Liam was also patient. He spoke to Max in a low and calm voice, gentle and encouraging. It was fascinating for Theo to watch, having never seen this side of the beta before. The layer of anger wrapped around him that wasn’t his fault, that he’d worked hard all his life to leash, giving way to a tenderness that was as much a part of him as the other. The glow of it shining behind his blue eyes as he softly told her it was okay to be scared, to not want to take the treat from his hand.

It took the entire walk to the park, but Max warmed up to him completely, like she couldn’t resist matching his rapturous energy. The short journey had taken much longer than it should have, what with all the Max interaction stops that Liam insisted on, and Theo had remarked that they’d probably only end up getting to the park the next day. Both beta and dog had ignored him in favour of treats and pets.

When Max willingly pushed her head under Liam’s hand, the smile on the beta’s face was blinding, one that Theo couldn’t help but return. It was probably the first smile they’d exchanged that didn't have the weight of their history behind it.

Upon reaching the park, Theo took out an old frisbee he’d found, he and the beta playing fetch with Max, the dog joyously bounding between them. They laughed when she missed, they cheered when she caught it. It made him feel lighter. It made him feel unsteady. It made him want to get out of his head for once, to appreciate this moment for what it was: this beautiful girl learning to trust again, and this person, this ally, looking at him like he was just a boy playing with a dog.

“I’m gonna take a break,” Theo says, as he tosses the frisbee to Liam, moving to the bench to take a seat.

“Tired already, old man?” Liam’s voice calls after him, though his eyes never leave Max as she runs the disc back to him.

“I’m like, a year older than you, dude.”

“Practically ancient.”

Theo rolls his eyes, but when Liam starts to walk towards him, he stops him. “No, you can continue playing with her if you want. It’s good for her to socialise.”

Liam agrees, going back to Max, who returns his excitement with a series of yips.

Theo watches as they play, unable to decide who he wants to pay more attention to, the happy dog or the happy beta. He’s never seen Liam like this before — completely carefree, head thrown back with jubilant laughter, the afternoon sun striking his hair in a way that made it seem lighter than it was.

It suits him.

He wonders if this was how Liam would have been, had Scott not had to bite him. Is this the person he would have become without all that he’d been through? Someone normal with regular worries: Getting into college, winning the next lacrosse game, girls. Well, one extra worry: his IED. But without everything else, maybe that would have been more manageable. No extreme situations to set him off, no grief and guilt and self-loathing from outcomes he could never have prevented.

Yet, perhaps it had been all that Liam had been through with that granted him the control he had now. Sure, he was still quick to anger, still more likely to react with fury than anything else when distressed, but that disproportionate anger didn’t come out anymore in everyday situations. Theo had caught one of the beta’s recent lacrosse games. The team had lost, and Liam had been upset, more with himself as co-captain than anything else, but he’d taken it in his stride, tamping the emotion with a well-honed control. The boy who’d once destroyed cars in fits of rage — gone.

The pack talked about how Liam’s anger made him strong. And that was true, but they only seemed to think of it in one dimension, like it was a type of firepower. But it was also resilience. He’d meant what he said to the beta when he told him that he’d been winning against his anger all his life. Learning to deal with his anger, managing, and harnessing it — that was a strength in itself.

And as Theo watches Liam laugh, falling to the ground as Max jumps on him in an overeager bid to return the frisbee, he can’t help but feel an admiration for all that Liam had accomplished despite all the odds stacked against him, both externally and internally. Was still accomplishing. That strength to be able to move through it all and come out on the other side, all the better. To keep going. Sometimes angry or scared, even reluctant, yet never backing down. Who he is now is more important than who he could have been.

Soon, both beta and dog tire out, Max cantering over to Theo, panting as she tries, unsuccessfully, to jump onto his lap. She contents herself with lying on the ground, placing her head on his foot. Liam joins them a second later, the frisbee clattering on the bench between them as he takes his seat with an audible groan.

“Who’s the old man now, huh?” Theo asks him with a smirk.

“Don’t start — I was playing with her much longer than you were.”

“Mmhmm.” The silence between them is the most comfortable it’s ever been. Theo doesn’t want to break it.

Eventually, though, Liam says something. “You know, I was never really much of a dog person until I became a werewolf.”

“Really? You’re so good with Max.”

“I always liked cats more. I had one, raised her since she was a kitten. But when I turned… well, you know how werewolves and cats don’t mix.”

“What happened to her?”

“My neighbours took her. So, I still get to see her from windows and stuff, but she is totally terrified of me now.” There’s no regret or sadness in the beta’s tone, like this was something he’d accepted and had learned to be content with.

“What’s her name?”

“Luna. Though her full government name is Lunatic May Dunbar.”

“Lunatic?” Theo asks, trying not to laugh.

“Oh yeah, she was a terror as a kitten. Got into everything and anything. We once came home to her completely black, sitting in this bag of charcoal we kept around for barbecues, which is an achievement considering she’s a cream Siamese cat. And the bag was in a cupboard.”

He laughs then, picturing a young Liam opening the front door only to find a soot sprite staring at him with innocent eyes. “So, why’d you never get a dog? You seem to enjoy playing with Max.”

“I would if I could, but my dad’s allergic. So I just visited Scott at work sometimes, and he and Deaton let me play with the dogs there.”

Perhaps that’s why he’d been surprised earlier, being used to seeing his Alpha at the clinic, and not Theo.

What Liam had said didn’t require a response, so instead, Theo tilts his head up, watching as the early evening sky becomes a theatre of colour — a cast of soft blues, pinks, and oranges.

“You do that a lot, you know?” Theo turns to look at the beta, who’s already watching him, nothing but curiosity in his eyes. “Look up at the sky.”

The chimera turns his gaze back upwards as he answers, enjoying the fading warmth of the day as it seeps away, the herald of the incoming cool of the night that can’t quite wait its turn. He feels an involuntary smile pull at his lips as he tells the beta, “I like the sky.”

Liam is silent for a long moment. And then all he says is, “It’s beautiful.”

They head back soon after, making a stop at a Starbucks for water and a couple of sad, flat croissants that do nothing to stave off the craving Lyra had forced onto him with their earlier conversation. Theo picks up an extra pastry, given to the grateful doctor who shoos them back out into the evening.

***

Now, it’s awkward.

Theo had taken one step towards his truck automatically once the door had closed behind them, only to remember that he wasn’t alone. He turns back to find the beta looking just as uncomfortable as he felt. There was no more Max to act as a buffer between them. Should he… offer him a ride? Or maybe he was going to go find his mum?

“Do you want to grab dinner?” Liam suddenly blurts out, his eyes widening like he hadn’t expected to say that.

Theo feels his eyebrows shoot up high. “You want to have dinner? With me?”

“We both have to eat.” Liam’s hand rubs the back of his neck while he looks markedly away from the chimera. Suddenly, his eyes shot back up to Theo’s face. “And you have a truck!”

“Is this a thing now? Like, I’m Uber chimera or something?”

“What?”

“Never mind. What about your mum, won’t she be waiting for you?”

“She went home when I didn’t answer her earlier.”

“She just left you behind?”

Liam scowls. “I’m not some helpless child.”

Theo hides a grin. “And yet, you require an adult, me, to bring you somewhere to eat.”

“Do you wanna eat or not!” The beta snaps.

Theo chuckles, and though he isn’t sure, again, why he does, he agrees. “Yeah, okay. I know a place.” He’d taken to ordering proper food at the diner he frequented, wanting to make up in some way for abusing their free coffee refills. “They’ll have baby chairs for you.”

Liam grits his teeth and storms over to the truck, letting out a growl as he realises Theo hadn’t even unlocked it yet. The chimera is still laughing as he climbs in.

***

They have to park a block away from the diner, but the air isn’t too cold for a walk. Along the way, Theo spots the store he’d always wanted to walk into, but couldn’t justify doing so while he had to be careful with money. He still has to be, but can now afford to loosen his purse strings a little. But only a little.

“I’m gonna head in here for a bit.” He doesn’t wait for Liam’s reply, just pushes the door open and walks in.

“Ugh, of course you wanna go into a bookstore. I’m starving!”

“You had a croissant.”

“It was gone in two bites!”

“There’s a games section.” Theo points out.

“Ooh.” And Liam moves so quickly, Theo’s surprised that he hasn’t left a trail of smoke behind him.

Even though he hadn’t planned on it, the chimera wanders through the shelves, unable to resist the pull of the books, letting his fingers trail over their spines. Some he’s familiar with, many more he’s not. He’s not here to buy a book, as much as he would love to. Books are expensive, and he still had that stolen library card. And the school library.

But oh, how he wants to hear that familiar creak of a fresh, new book being opened, to bury his nose in the pages and inhale the scent of paper and ink before it fades away.

With great reluctance, he turns to what had caught his attention in the first place: keychains, inscribed with famous quotes from great works of literature.

The Tolkien ones call to him, the author having been one of his favourites, but his eyes keep being pulled back to another keychain, a quote he doesn’t recognise: ‘These are the days that must happen to you’. Looking at the tag, he finds that it’s from a poem by Walt Whitman he hadn’t yet read, Song of the Open Road.

Fitting then, since he’d planned to use the keychain with his keys from the Animal Clinic.

Making a mental note to find the poem in the library, he heads over to the cashier, Liam joining him as he’s collecting his purchase.

“So what book did you get this time, nerd?”

Theo thrusts the little brown bag in front of the beta’s nose. “Do you seriously think a book can fit in this?”

“Is it a snack?”

Theo just stares at him, stupefied. Then Liam’s stomach growls. “We’re going, we’re going!”

***

“This is… a lot of options,” Liam observes as he stares down at the diner’s, admittedly humongous, menu.

Theo had been eating his way through it for a couple of weeks now as a way to make up for abusing their free coffee refills, and he was still only on page four of their all-day breakfast options. And there were five in total. He’s through to the pancakes now, and today is banana pancake day.

Theo shrugs. “It’s cheap.”

“What’s good here?”

“I like their club sandwich.”

“A sandwich is not a meal.”

“I know. Which is why I’m having banana pancakes with a side of fried tomatoes, sausages, and hashbrowns.” Oh, the untold joys of actually being able to afford a full meal.

“Breakfast? For dinner?”

“Protein, vegetables, fruits, and carbs. What else do you need?”

The waitress comes over then, sending Liam into a frazzled mess as he scrambles to find something to order, eventually picking something at random.

The beta watches with mild interest as Theo takes out his shiny new keychain, attempting to wrestle his keys onto the metal ring. So far, the ring was winning. Theo is about to give up and use the tines of a fork when Liam suddenly plucks it from his fingers. He twists his body to the side as he flicks out a claw, using it to pry open the ring.

Catching Theo’s gaze as he easily slides the keys in, Liam just says, “One of the perks of having claws.” He tosses them back to Theo. “So, are you gonna nerd out on me now? Tell me where this quote is from, and all the different things it could mean?”

“Actually, I haven’t read the poem it came from yet.”

“Then why’d you pick it?”

“I dunno. I like the words. I’ll find the poem at school or something.” He pauses, a sly smile spreading across his face. “But I can tell you about another poem from the same guy.”

“Oh god. Please don’t.”

“His most famous one is called Song of Myself. And you might ask, why song? Interestingly, the quote on this chain is from another poem that also has ‘Song of’ in its title.” Liam’s head drops to the table with an audible thunk. “But does he literally mean a song? One with a melody? We may have to ask ourselves, ‘What exactly is a song?’. Perhaps, it is—”

Liam is saved by the waitress coming over with their drinks.

***

Dinner is… okay?

It hadn’t been entirely smooth sailing. Theo had stolen one of the beta’s fries, Liam had flicked ketchup onto his face, and they may or may not have spilt a salt shaker, which had Liam tossing the salt over his shoulder, citing a desire to avoid tempting fate by ignoring superstition.

But it also hadn’t been completely silent. They talk of Max and Deaton, of school and the sirens, of how Alec and Nolan had been driving Parrish and the Sheriff up the wall in their investigation into potential supernaturals and sirens.

But there were awkward silences, made more awkward by the fact that they didn’t seem as awkward as they should be.

They’re almost done with the meal when Liam suddenly announces. “Mason and Corey are coming over.”

Theo blinks. “Did they also get left in town by their parents or something?”

“No, they wanna get dessert.”

He blinks again. “Dessert.”

“Yeah, at an ice cream place or something.”

“So, they’re picking you up?”

Liam looks up from his phone at the chimera, something that looks almost like a frown on his face. “You don’t wanna come with us?”

Dinner was one thing. Dinner was a convenience. This is… something else. Or was the beta just being polite? “You want me to go with you guys?”

Liam gives him a strange look. “Yeah, why not?”

Why not? Theo wants to say allies aren’t friends — allies work together, they don’t spend time playing with dogs, having dinner, and then dessert too.

However, what comes out of his mouth is, “I, uh, sure?”

“Are you?” Whatever expression Liam had been making disappears as he smirks. “You don’t sound sure.”

Theo rolls his eyes. “You are buying me ice cream.”

“And then I’m smashing it into your face. I’ll call them, see if we should meet them somewhere instead of them coming here.”

Corey picks up almost immediately.

-Hello?-

“Where are we going? Theo and I can just meet you there.”

-Mason and I haven’t decided yet. I wanna go to that place with those huge sundaes they make with like, candy floss and pretzels and stuff. And Mason wants to go to that parlour that does those superhero waffles.-

“Superhero waffles,” Liam says on a groan in unison with the chameleon.

“Both options sound equally unnecessary and disgustingly expensive,” Theo declares. Whatever happened to a simple scoop of ice cream on a waffle cone?

Liam rolls his eyes. “Do you have a better suggestion, then?”

-Yeah, we’re all ears at this point. Mason threatened to break up with me if I made him eat another candy floss milkshake, and I don’t want to listen to the whole story of Miles Morales again.-

-Because you don’t get it! Miles is the best Spider-Man because—

There’s a sound of a scuffle on the line that has Liam and Theo exchanging amused glances, though Theo is a little preoccupied with the fact that Mason and Corey hadn’t sounded upset that he was joining them. Or worried.

“So, do you?” Liam asks again, interrupting whatever spiral the chimera had been about to embark on.

“What?”

“Have a better suggestion?”

“I always do.”

***

“I have to admit,” Mason says through a mouthful of ice cream, “This is the first of your ideas I am absolutely on board with and will one hundred percent steal, Theo.”

Theo grins at the human. “I am known for my strategic thinking, after all.”

“I concede entirely. It was genius for us to get pints from the store and eat them here in the back of your truck. We get extra ice cream, and it’s cheaper? Genius!”

“And I can have a whole pint.” Corey declares happily, busy making a massive dent in his own tub. The chameleon had clearly been harbouring a stupendous sweet tooth. Mason, Liam, and Theo had opted to share two between themselves. Not that much better than Corey, but still.

“Mint chocolate chip is a crime against humanity. I refuse to touch your pint.” Liam tells the chameleon, shaking a precariously dripping spoon at him.

Theo grabs his hand, stilling it. “I will make you lick this whole truck clean if you spill any ice cream.”

In the moment before Liam snatches his hand back, Theo is struck by the sight of their hands together. It’s strange, somehow. Maybe because it’s the first time they’ve touched without a reason grounded in violence or survival — no fight to recover from, no one to stop, no need to throw punches. Just... contact.

“But then it wouldn’t be clean.” Liam points out. “It would be even dirtier. With my saliva.”

“Is this your way of trying to prove I wouldn’t make you do it? Because I will. You drip, you lick.”

“I’m just saying it’s a toxi-moron.”

Everyone stares at Liam, even Corey, who halts with his spoon halfway to his mouth.

“Do you… do you mean oxymoron?” Mason asks in a gentle voice.

“I think he means he’s a moron, because strictly speaking, that was a contradiction,” Theo answers for the beta, not bothering to hide the smirk on his face.

“Does having Theo work with us mean you're all teaming up against me? Because then I’m out. Have fun being drowned by sirens. Goodbye. I’m going as far away as I can from you and water.”

“But then who’s gonna drive you home?” Mason questions, exchanging a grin with Theo.

“I’ll be on your team.” Corey volunteers, an affable smile on his face.

“Traitor!” Mason gasps in faux horror.

“Hey, back up is necessary when we’re up againt you smart asses.”

“All I'm hearing from that is that we're smart.” Theo declares, Mason nodding in agreement.

“One of you is smart,” Liam says before sliding his eyes over to the chimera, “The other is an ass.”

“This ass is going to make good on his threat of you licking the truck if you don’t stop flinging that spoon around!” Theo reaches for Liam’s hand again, determined to steal the spoon for the sanctity of his truck, of course, but the beta yanks his hand back.

“Then the rest of the strawberry cheesecake is mine. Your little smartass team can share the butter pecan ice cream.” Liam pulls the pint to himself triumphantly, only to let out a little sound of dismay when he finds that it’s mostly gone.

“You made your bed,” Mason tells him, as he digs out a particularly large chunk of butter pecan, “Lie in it.”

It’s all so normal. This whole day has been so normal. Which means it was an entirely bizarre day for Theo. They’re all acting like he’s not the guy who tore up the whole pack, who killed their Alpha. Like it didn’t matter anymore. But that was never going to be true. It was always going to be there: unseen, unsaid, but known. Still, Theo can’t find it in himself to pull away, though he knows he should. An ally is only useful when there’s conflict. Once everything with the sirens was over, he’d just disappear into the aether where the pack was concerned.

But right now, he doesn’t want the moment to end.

A thought occurs to Theo. “Do you guys know of any bakeries or cafés that sell Shio Pan?”

“What’s that?”

“It’s this Japanese crescent-shaped bread roll thing. They wrap the dough around a stick of butter so it becomes extra fluffy and buttery.”

“That sounds like a croissant.” Mason points out.

“That’s what I said! But according to Lyra, the supreme authority on all things bread, croissants are flaky, not fluffy.”

“'Baked in a buttery flaky crust!'" Three bamboozled heads turn to Corey, who’s still happily digging into his ice cream, giggling at whatever he just said.

“Is this a sugar high?” Liam questions.

“Have you not seen the video?” Their equally confused expressions remain on their faces. “Ya’ll need to stop being such nerds and watch memes and shit.”

“Anyway,” Mason turns back to Theo after giving his boyfriend another ‘what on earth are you on’ type of look. “Why do you ask?”

“Lyra’s been looking for a place that sells them. Her favourite type of bread or something.”

“Is this how you plan to get in her head? With bread?”

Theo shrugs. “Leave a baguette out long enough, it becomes hard enough to use as a bat.” Now it’s his turn to get stared at. “What? I was kidding! Mostly.”

“How is that going, anyway? Is she still a suspect?”

“All the new eighteen-year-old girls are suspects until we actually see one of them transform into a siren.”

“But nothing unusual from her?”

“Well, she did tell me—” Theo cuts himself off, not sure if he should share this with them. It probably wasn’t something Lyra wanted anyone else to know. He wouldn’t, if it were him. But it could be relevant. It almost definitely was relevant.

“What?” Corey asks, the euphoria from the ice cream now replaced with urgency.

For some reason, Theo finds himself glancing to the left, where Liam sits. The beta meets his gaze with an open yet expectant expression — like he knew this might be important, but wasn’t going to push him. Like it was up to Theo to make the decision. And somehow, that made it easier for Theo to speak, even if the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“Her mother drowned when she was a kid.” He tells them in a low voice, looking down at the slowly melting ice cream pint in his hands as he does.

“Oh.”

He can smell the mix of emotions from them, a complex amalgamation of sympathy, sorrow, and suspicion. The same things he was feeling, except that his had a side of guilt.

“But… the sirens are here as a pair, aren’t they? Mother and daughter?” Corey asks.

“She wasn’t lying,” Theo says softly. “I could tell. I think she did lose someone close to her. But maybe it wasn’t her mother. Just like her moving here with her grandmother could be a lie, too.”

“All of this doesn’t mean she is the younger siren. Only that she might be.” Liam tells them firmly, Theo looking up to find the beta watching him with what seemed like… understanding? “And we won’t do anything until we’re sure.”

It doesn’t make Theo feel better. But at least, he doesn’t feel so alone tonight.

***

Theo has a nightmare later that night in the preserve. Lyra drowning in the river, Theo refusing to help her until she proved she wasn’t the siren. Lyra at the edge of death, pleading that she couldn’t be a siren, she wouldn’t be able to drown if she was and — she was his friend. Wasn’t she?

The sound of his ringing phone cuts through the night, and Theo comes awake with a gasp.

It’s Liam.

“Yeah?”

-The sirens… something happened.-

“I’m on my way.”

Chapter Text

Theo, with Liam sitting shotgun, pulls to a stop outside a house, the Sheriff already there. And…

“Is that Deaton?” Liam questions.

“Yeah, I called him. You said the Sheriff hadn’t figured out if these victims are supernatural — Deaton may have a way.”

They exit the vehicle, tension locked into all their limbs, worry carved into their faces. The two older men turn to meet them at the driveway, similar expressions on their faces.

“Boys.” Stilinski looks at them grimly. “It isn’t a pretty sight in there.”

“I’ll be fine,” Theo says, keeping his face placid, though there’s a niggling anxiety in his gut that he chooses to ignore. Instead, he glances over to Liam, who already looks a little green from the smell of the blood alone, reaching even them as they gather a distance from the house. “You?”

“Yeah.” The beta swallows, but he looks determined, always needing to push through.

The Sheriff looks sceptical, but leads them toward the door anyway. “So, doc, you said you knew how to check if the victims are supernatural?”

“Yes. Actually, Theo came up with the concept, I just built on it.” Deaton holds up a small jar full of a greyish lavender liquid, with strips of paper. “A kind of litmus test for supernatural blood.”

Liam looks at Theo, impressed. “And it works?”

Theo shrugs, not wanting to make it a big deal. “It was just a theory. Simple biology and chemistry. Really, it was all the doctor. And yeah, it did. Just not on me, obviously.”

“So, we dip those papers in blood and…?”

“If it remains pale, it’s human. If it turns dark, it’s supernatural.”

Their group stops at the door, halted by Stilinski’s hand. “It looks like the people here were having some sort of meal together. Some of them live here, but not all of them do. We have three victims inside, all dead, but the evidence of a struggle also shows that four other people were taken. There’s blood from the missing victims, too.”

Everyone nods at the Sheriff, and he finally lets them in.

Struggle had been an understatement. Tables and chairs are overturned, cabinets and plateware smashed to bits, deep scratches marring the walls, sofa, and more. And blood. So much of it, some in pools, some staining the furniture or the walls.

Between the shattered plates and glasses, there are signs of a meal interrupted — a pie, partially smashed under a foot; a bottle of wine in an ice bucket that bears a bloody handprint; a knife, still covered with food debris, now embedded deep in a wall.

It's the perfect setup for an ambush, whether the victims had been supernaturals or not. And it had clearly been a success for the sirens. It’s the exact type of attack Theo himself would have engineered. And had. Being enrolled in schools meant having an address. And while the Dread Doctors would doctor the paperwork, obtaining a house —and suitable parental figures— had been left to Theo.

There had been lots of blood then, too. The same kind of destruction. Death.

Had the sirens revelled in it too? Had they enjoyed their roles as harbingers of chaos, all in a quest for power?

Theo knows that Liam blanches from the signs of brutality before them — the unequivocal reminder of all that the sirens are capable of and will enact. But Theo’s stomach turns from the echo it reverberates through him.

Three victims lie on the floor in different areas of the house, two in the living room, one in the kitchen. Their bodies are in strange positions, as if they’d been running before they were killed, or splayed about in unnatural poses with broken limbs. Scratches riddle their bodies. And all are glassy-eyed, staring at nothing, blood still seeping from their ripped throats.

Deaton bends down toward one body in particular, frowning. “This victim, he looks different from the others. There are more marks on his neck, but they seem shallower.”

Stilinski nods. “We call those hesitation marks. Whoever killed this man, it might have been their first kill, or they might not have wanted to do it at all.”

Liam and Theo look at each other. “The younger siren, the black-haired one.” The chimera states, the beta agreeing with a nod.

Deaton dips a paper into the blood near the body, the Sheriff and Theo doing the same for the other victims. “Human,” each of them declares.

Liam, however, was near one of the broken windows, where there was a trail of bloody handprints that seemed to show the journey of someone who’d run into the wall, then pushed off in a desperate attempt to get away. He turns to them with a black paper in his hand.

“Supernatural.”

The Sheriff directs them to other blood trails made by the missing victims. All supernatural.

“This means they’re not just after the pack,” Deaton states sombrely. “They’re after supernatural souls, too.”

“It makes sense.” Theo muses, “The water pipe poisoning was too elaborate a scheme to get to just the pack.”

“What about the joggers, though?” Stilinski asks, clearly frustrated. “As far as we can tell, they were human.”

“Maybe there were no other supernaturals in the preserve that night,” Liam points out. “Aside from Theo.”

The chimera shakes his head. “I’m technically not supernatural.”

“But you’re not entirely human either,” The Sheriff says. “So they start with you and the joggers, then the water pipe poisoning to draw out supernaturals, while at the same time setting a trap for the pack. And tonight, they took only the supernaturals. Something isn’t adding up.”

“Maybe the joggers were a mistake,” Deaton ponders. “The sirens only seem to know if one is supernatural if they draw your blood; ‘reading the water’, as the Bestiaries said, which is why they needed to poison the water supply. They couldn’t exactly roam around Beacon Hills, scratching everyone in sight. Everything besides the joggers points to their ultimate goal of acquiring supernatural souls, including the pack.”

Theo wants to point out that he isn’t pack, yet he may still be a target. But instead, he says, “Based on what happened at the pipe and how they seemed to want either Liam or I specifically, they may have something more… creative in mind for the pack. And they might need supernatural souls for that.”

“That first song that Theo heard, it could have been the younger siren.” Liam adds. “We think she’s the one hesitating to kill, right? Maybe that was it — she could have hesitated with her song too, which is why Theo didn’t get drowned. So, her mother took over and killed whatever souls were in the preserve, which were the joggers.”

The Sheriff shakes his head. “Except the joggers were targeted. There were other people out there that night. Everything they’ve been doing has been very specific, but it’s just not following any type of pattern.”

Theo tries to focus on what they’re saying, but he hears something in the background, something soft.

Liam let’s out a groan, “We keep getting answers, and then only more questions.”

He hears… a song.

“We’re thinking about this in a way that’s supposed to make sense to us, forgetting that we are not sirens.” Deaton says firmly, “We still don’t know a lot about their powers. Maybe some of these things were done out of necessity for their abilities, and not as a matter of furthering their cause.”

A song with no words, just a melody.

The Sheriff nods, “You’re right, Doc. There’s more than just one thing going on here.”

Deaton gives him a wry smile. “Unfortunately, we don’t seem to be making much progress on either side.”

“I’d say figuring out two different motives is progress,” Stilinski says, nodding at the doctor.

By… an orchestra?

“Theo?” Liam questions, catching sight of Theo’s face. “Do you hear something?”

“A song.” Everyone tenses up, “No, it’s like a symphony, by an orchestra or something. It’s not a voice.”

“Oh,” Stilinski relaxes, and everyone follows suit, “One of the victims was—”

Why is it familiar? Without listening to what the Sheriff has to say, Theo stalks away to find the source of it.

It’s a phone, plugged into earbuds, the sound soft and muted, but leaking from the tiny speakers. Tchaikovsky. The Swan Theme, from Swan Lake.

Why is it familiar? Theo looks up when he hears footsteps behind him, finally taking in the room around him — he’d been so focused on the source of the sound.

There are posters on the walls, images from famous ballets, and prima ballerinas in beautiful poses. A few trophies from dance competitions. Picture of a ballet troupe, children. Young girls.

Then it comes.

“Theo! You should come to the ballet class try-outs with me! They’re always looking for more boys, and if you get in, they won’t be able to say no to me!”

“No, Tara, I told you I don’t wanna dance.”

“But we could have fun together!”

“I can’t do it anyway, I have asthma.”

“You can try! You’re always reading, you need to go outside and do more things.”

“I help Mama in the garden.”

“But that’s still at home.”

“Dance class will be indoors too.”

“You need more friends!”

“No, I don’t!”

“Yes, you do!”

“I have Stiles and Scott.”

“They’re so boring!”

“They are not boring! You’re boring. And you’re already doing the flippy gym thing, why do you need ballet? They’re like, the same.”

“They are so not! I’m going to be the Black Swan!”

“You’re going to be the ugly swan.”

“You’re ugly!”

And then Tara, falling, because he’d pushed her. Only she keeps falling. Down, and down, and down, landing in—

“Theo!” It’s Liam, a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, his blue eyes worried. He can’t hold on to the images. They don’t feel real, like they’re rooted in some reality that can’t quite exist. They can’t be memories. Can they?

And as he looks into the beta’s face, the vision, the voices, they fade away. Lost.

“Theo?” Liam’s eyes flicker all over his face, searching. “What happened? We were calling your name for ages.”

“Nothing.” Neither the beta nor the doctor and Sheriff behind him look convinced, just concerned. “I just… the song sounded familiar. I was trying to remember it, see if it had anything to do with the sirens.”

“But it’s an orchestra.”

“It’s music.”

Liam frowns, not understanding the logic behind his words. Which is appropriate since there hadn’t been any logic to it. Theo chooses to instead turn his gaze to the doctor, uncomfortable under the beta’s continued, worried scrutiny.

The doctor is also frowning at Theo, and though the chimera nods as calmly as he can to reassure him, it doesn’t smooth the worry from Deaton’s forehead.

“I hate to interrupt whatever is happening here,” The Sheriff says, “But this is a child’s bedroom. If the sirens have taken a child, whether supernatural or not…”

The tension and unease in the room increase.

“We have to find her,” Liam says, determined but still nervous. “We have to. No matter what.”

Theo waits for himself to protest, not out loud, but in his mind, at least. Because if the sirens took her, they were going to the lake. Going there was the biggest risk with the sirens — he’d been lucky with Mason and Corey, but you don’t play games with strategy. You weigh the pros and cons, then make an informed decision. Luck is the thing you don’t control but hope for. Invisibility had given them an advantage that day, and the sirens had four more souls tonight. Maybe even five.

They could be drowning them right now. But Theo’s expected objection never comes, not even in his head. This is worth the risk, regardless of any strategy or safety. And this surprises him.

“That window,” Stilinski points to the wall behind them, “It’s not fully closed.”

Liam and Theo rush toward it, pushing up the frame. They see scratches on the windowsill. Talons.

“Those look like they came from the inside.” The Sheriff says from over their shoulders.

Liam pushes up the frame further, and they both stick their heads out. The window is so small it forces them so close together that if Theo turned, he’d almost be chest-to-chest with the beta. So close that Theo can hear the stuttering of Liam’s nervous heart even without searching for it.

Both their eyes settle on what they find on the soft, wet ground below them: A set of small footprints. Deeply embedded, like whoever made them had jumped out.

The chimera and beta turn to look at each other, Liam’s hair brushing softly over Theo’s cheek so quickly, he thinks he might have imagined it.

Their eyes meet. And they both know what they have to do. Theo pulls back into the room, grabbing a small soft toy on the bed, a penguin, while Liam jumps out the window.

“Theo, what are you—”

“We’ll find her.”

And then he’s gone out the window, too.

***

They don’t have to go far. The girl's scent and fear were strong, leading them a few houses away to a small shed in a quiet and dark backyard.

“We should have gotten her name from the house,” Liam whispers as they creep towards the door. “We’ll scare her just walking in.”

“Who were we supposed to ask?” Theo whispers back, “The corpses?”

“Kids' rooms always have their name somewhere. It’s like parents think we’ll forget our own names or something. Didn’t yours?”

Theo is spared from answering as Liam’s hand on the door handle twists, making a creaking sound. A whimper echoes from inside.

“Hey, little girl?” Theo says tentatively, voice shaky.

Liam gives him a look of disbelief, which the chimera returns with a look like ‘what? I’m trying’.

“We’re um… we’re with the police. They’re looking for you.”

Another whimper sounds from the shed, even more scared this time.

“We um… we’re here to help you.”

Liam hisses at him, keeping his voice low, “Have you never spoken to kids before?”

“I don’t know! Kids are weird.”

“She’s scared! You sound like those kidnappers on those crime re-enactment shows.”

“I don’t see you doing anything!”

Liam snatches the penguin toy from Theo’s hand, turning back to the ajar door. “You um… you must be really scared. And I know we must be scaring you, too. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t answer, but there’s no whimper or cry of fear, though the air still reeks of it.

“We really are with the police. We just want to help you, get you safe. What’s your name?”

There’s a long silence, until… “My Momma said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”

“That’s good!” Liam says enthusiastically, yet keeping his voice soft and measured, “She’s right, it’s not good to talk with strangers. But did she say anything about the police?”

“She said I can go to the police if I’m lost and I need help.”

“That’s right! And we’re helping the police.”

“I want to see your uniforms.”

Theo and Liam exchanged panicked glances. “We um, we’re not the police, we’re just helping them.” The chimera tries to explain. She doesn’t answer, so he adds, “But we, um, we brought your friend.”

Liam reaches down, placing the little penguin inside the doorway.

“Mr. Frosty?”

“Like, the snowman?” Theo asks.

“Mr. Frosty is a penguin.” Even through a voice shaky with fear, the childish disdain is unmistakable.

Liam glares at Theo again, the chimera making an exasperated ‘well, go on then’ gesture.

“Mr. Frosty’s your friend, right?” The beta asks.

“My favourite friend.”

“We saw him on your bed. We thought you might be lonely and want to have a friend with you, so we brought him.”

She’s silent for a moment. “It was really scary.” She finally whispers.

“I know, it sounds like it was terrifying. But you were so brave to come here by yourself.”

“That’s what Momma told me to do.”

“To come here?” Theo asks, feeling a pit start to form in his stomach.

“Sometimes, there are bad people who come looking for us. Momma says they think we’re scary. But I think they’re scarier.”

“Sometimes…” Liam starts to say, brows furrowing as he tries to find the right words. “Sometimes, people are scared of what they don’t understand. Being scared is easier than trying to understand.”

The beta looks up at Theo as he says it, and he wonders if he’s talking about him, or maybe even himself when he’d first been turned, when he’d seen the wendigo and Scott. Or maybe he was simply trying to comfort a small child.

“That lady was scary.”

“What lady?”

“She pushed me.”

“The scary lady?”

“Yeah. She pushed me out the window.”

“What did she look like?” Theo asks, nudging Liam to keep quiet for a second.

“Is she there?”

The girl is silent for a long while. Liam mouths at Theo – What are you doing?

Trying to find out who saved her — the mother or daughter siren.

You’re scaring her even more!

She’s already scared!

“If you tell us what she looks like,” Theo tells the girl, “We can check and make sure she’s not here.”

Liam opens his mouth again, but the girl answers. “She had glowing eyes, but not like my Momma and Uncle. Her eyes were green.”

“That does sound weird.” Theo murmurs. “Was anything else weird about her?”

“Her skin was weird.”

“In what way?”

“It was just weird. It made me want to itch myself.”

The boys blink at each other. Theo turns back to the doorway. “Was her… hair weird?”

“I don’t know. I just saw her skin and eyes. Then I fell out the window and she told me to run.”

Theo looks to Liam, who nods back at him. They’re on the same page — the daughter, it had to be.

“And you came all the way here, like your Momma told you to. You’ve done so well.” Liam repeats. “Will you let us help you now? Mr. Frosty will be with you all the way, you never have to be without him again.”

“Is the scary lady still there?”

“No, she’s not.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s just us. Two boys. You can hear our voices, right?”

“I’m a man, actually,” Theo can’t help adding. Liam smacks him on the shoulder.

“Okay.”

“Okay? I’m going to open the door, alright?” When she doesn’t protest, Liam pushes open the door slowly, the moonlight slanting in, falling on a little girl with light brown hair, probably no more than eight, huddled in a corner. She’s holding Mr. Frosty tightly, face streaked with tears and shallow cuts all over her arms and legs.

Theo feels his heart twist, hearing the beta’s own react the same way.

Liam opens his mouth to say something, but she beats him to it. “You’re both boys.” She says accusingly.

Liam tries to hide a smirk while Theo openly grins at her, trying to keep it as soft and gentle as he can. “Well, I’m a big boy.”

She looks him up and down, more of her fear fading as she considers him. “Okay.”

“What’s your name?” Liam asks.

“Adora.”

“We’re gonna get you safe, okay, Adora? I’m gonna call my friend. He’s the Sheriff, and he’ll come and bring you to the doctor so they can help you with those cuts, make you feel better.”

She nods, then hugs the penguin even tighter, still scared, though not as much as before.

“We should get Stilinski to bring her to the clinic,” Theo says quietly to the beta.

“Well… we don’t know that she’s supernatural, and I’m not going to ask. And the cuts aren’t deep. If the doctors clean them up, she’ll be okay.”

“She’s just a little girl,” Theo says, low but firmly, knowing as he says it that this isn’t a strategic decision at all.

Like Liam said, her wounds are shallow; she’ll heal perfectly fine, even if it takes longer than usual. There’s no need to waste their supply of siren water, especially when the sirens seemed to have it out for the pack. But this… he needs to do this. Something deep within him needs to see it through.

“Whether she’s supernatural or not, that has to hurt.”

Liam is nodding before Theo can even finish his sentence. “You’re right.”

The beta steps away to call the Sheriff, and Theo realises the biggest error of his decision: he’s alone with the girl now. Not being good with kids is an understatement when it comes to Theo. Just look at what had happened when he’d last been alone with a child.

His lips twitch. Not from holding back a laugh or frown, but from the plain absurdity of the thought. Was it a joke? Was he making a joke inside his own head about his past? It didn’t feel like a joke. Why would he ever joke about it when he still has nightmares and visions about that day? But it is… what is this? It is absurd, is what it is. Ridiculous. Asinine.

Where is he going with this?

“Do you need to do a poo?” A small voice interrupts his thoughts. He’s almost thankful for it because if he’d kept going, he’d probably have ended up asking Adora if she could swim or something.

“What?”

“You look like when my tummy feels funny and I need to poo but nothing is coming out.”

He blinks down at the girl sitting in a pool of moonlight before him, wide, guileless eyes looking up at him. She still smells scared, her cuts still shining red, but here she is, accusing him of needing to poo. How were young children so resilient?

“Er, no.” He finally says. She doesn’t look like she believes him, but continues to watch him as he stands there, trying to decide if he should sit down beside her. Maybe he should. Get on her level, just like he’d done with Maxie. Who was a dog. And not a child. Jesus.

“Um, can I sit?” He finally asks, and she just looks at him like he’s mad. God, how is he this hapless? This is a child, not a dog. Where is Liam? Why is the phone call taking so long? Why couldn’t they have been looking for a missing dog? Or cat? Or penguin?

“The floor hurts my bum.” Adora finally says.

“Oh.” After a moment, Theo shrugs off his hoodie, handing it to the girl gingerly. “You can… sit on it. Or wear it, if you’re cold.”

She chooses to wrap it around herself, and with the clumsy movements of a child, jostles around until her bottom is flopped on the hem of the hoodie. It’s… quite adorable, actually.

When she’s done, she looks back up at him expectantly. Oh, good lord. What now? He’d never invoked the name of god so many times before. Didn’t even believe in a god, but he would say the goddamn rosary if it would mean Liam would come back and save him from this awkwardness. But the beta is still a distance away, talking on the phone. As if he can feel Theo’s discomfort, or more likely smell it, he turns to give the chimera a wide-eyed look that says: ‘what is wrong with you?’

A lot is wrong with him.

Theo sits. A small distance away from Adora, but at least it gives him something to do. For all of one second. He shifts in his seat.

“I told you it hurts.”

He smiles, the expression not coming easily to his face. “I’m a man. I can deal with it.”

“You’re a boy.” She says, judgment clear in her tone.

“I can be both a man and a boy.”

“No. You have no hair on your face.”

“I shave.”

“So does my dad, but he still has hair. He’s a man.”

“I shave all my hair off.” He says almost indignantly, wondering at the same time what kind of insanity had overtaken him. “See,” He tilts his head upward, jutting his jaw and chin toward her. “You can see the hair growing back.”

He hears a shuffling noise. Before he can figure out what it is, a small hand lands on his cheek. It takes all of his willpower not to jerk back in shock. A child. Touching him.

Yeah, Theo, remember the last time you were with a child?

Her hand is small, so small and soft against his cheek. Innocent. It doesn’t belong.

Before Theo can make up his mind about pulling away, Adora finally says, “You’re right,” before removing her hand and sitting back down, nearer him this time. “There is hair.”

He looks down at her, waiting for… something. She just continues to look back up at him, waiting for something, too.

I was a child, too.

It was the first time he’d thought that, without the other part of the sentence: but that doesn’t excuse what I did.

It was still true. Nothing would ever excuse what he’d done, even if he had been nine years old. That had always seemed to make it worse. But he could talk to this child.

“I also have hair here.” He eventually makes himself say, pointing to his eyebrows.

She gives him a look of scorn. “So do I. And I’m a girl.”

“You’re right. You are a girl.” She nods once at him, looking almost regal and patronising as she does it. Were all children like this? “You’re pretty sharp, you know that?”

“Do you mean smart?”

He chuckles, feeling himself start to relax a little more around her. “Yes. That was another way of saying you’re smart.”

“Oh.” Adora considers it. “My Uncle says I’m so smart, it’s annoying. He says I know too much.”

Theo grins at her. “Is that right?”

“If they don’t want me to know things, they shouldn’t say it where I can hear them.”

“Where do they say things?”

“In my dad’s office. But there’s a hole under the door. It’s not my fault I can hear them there.”

He chuckles again. “Yes, that’s true. They should be more careful about where they say things if they don’t want you to know.”

“That’s what I said!” Adora’s eyes light up with something that looks like vindication.

“And what did your Uncle say when you told him that?”

“That I was supposed to be in my room.”

“Ah,” Theo looks at her gravely, “Then you probably should have stayed there. But you know, I’ve always found that having information is very useful.”

“Me too,” Adora nods, “Like when my dad told my Uncle that he didn’t enjoy Momma’s pot roast. Momma wanted to know, and she promised me ice cream if I told her.”

“And did you get your ice cream?”

“I got two scoops! I promised Dad I wouldn’t tell Momma if he gave me ice cream.”

Theo laughs, “Very smart, Adora. I would have done the same. You deserve ice cream.”

“Can we get some now?”

Theo opens his mouth to tell her ‘maybe.’ Honestly, he wouldn’t have denied her if he could help it — she was inexplicably adorable and had somehow managed to disarm him. Not to mention that with how smart she was, she’d probably find some way to coerce him into it. But Liam returns just then.

“Ice cream?” The beta chirps, keeping his voice light and jovial, “Are we getting ice cream?”

“Can we?”

“Can we?”

The beta purses his lips as he looks between both the chimera and child on the floor, something like amusement bright in his eyes.

“Maybe,” He tells them as he sits down on Adora’s other side. “We’ll have to see what the sheriff says.”

“Okay.” She shrugs.

“You know,” Liam says in a bright voice, “All the ice cream shops are closed, but I have a better idea. We could go to the store and buy a whole carton! And eat that! What do you think about that idea?”

Theo feels his jaw drop open at Liam’s shameless intellectual theft. Seriously, that was the last time he’d share his genius with him. Unfortunately, any protest he’s about to offer is drowned out by Adora’s cry of excitement. How could he take this moment away from her?

The look he gives Liam over her head promises swift retribution. Liam ignores it, though there’s a small smirk on his face as he asks Adora about her favourite flavour. She has five. As she and Liam get into a lengthy debate about their favourite ice creams, Theo falls silent, content to watch them.

The beta is a natural with her, especially now that she’s a little more relaxed. He teases her, takes her ribbing good-naturedly. Theo isn’t surprised by it. There had always been a lightness to Liam, an easy-going sense to him, even if it had been sometimes clouded by his anger and awkwardness. It’s… adorable. They are adorable. Together. Because she is adorable.

Soon, the Sheriff comes, and they bundle her into the car, the girl making no move to return Theo’s hoodie that hangs like a robe all around her. It’s okay, though. She can have it. Even if it was the only hoodie he had. He had a jacket, and it would have to do.

As they close the door to the car, she looks out at them from the rolled-down window, her expression nervous again, eyes settling on Liam. “Aren’t you coming?”

Theo and Liam exchange glances. “Um,” Liam starts, “You want me to come with you?”

“Both of you.” She says pleadingly, moving her eyes to Theo.

“The Sheriff will take care of you, trust us,” Liam tells her gently, but she only shakes her head a little, clutching Mr. Frosty even closer.

“Please?” comes her plaintive voice.

Judging by the look on Liam’s face, he wouldn’t deny this little girl anything she asked. And though it is four in the morning, and Theo is tired and cold, he doesn’t want to say no, either.

“Of course, we’ll come,” Theo tells her. “But we need to go get your ice cream first, don’t we?”

She beams then, and allows the Sheriff to drive them off, his bewildered face still looking at the boys through his side mirror, looking as if he were mouthing ‘ice cream’ to himself.

Left alone, Theo and Liam make their trek back to the house, intending to get the truck and then, of course, ice cream.

“She didn’t ask for her mother,” Theo says quietly. “Or her dad. And she knew exactly where to go to hide.”

Liam looks over at him, his face now drawn and weary, reflecting everything the chimera was feeling, too. Adora had been surprisingly calm through it all, and while it had made it easier for them to handle her despair and fear, it was also unsettling.

“Her family were supernatural. You heard her; they had a plan for this. Must have prepared her since she was a toddler.”

Theo wonders how long the family had been in Beacon Hills, if they had been there during the hunters, if that was what had prompted her family to make sure she was ready for anything. A child. One of a supernatural family, but still a child. Ready to run at a moment’s notice, ready to face the unknown. It’s a haunting thought.

As they reach the truck, hands on the doors, Liam looks over at Theo. “You know… I don’t know that the person you were before would have cared about a scared child like that.”

Theo frowns. “You were the one who calmed her down enough to trust us.”

“Yeah, you’re terrible with kids. Amazing with angry animals, but terrible with kids. It’s weird.”

“Dogs don’t talk back.”

“Seems like that would make it harder. But she seemed to like you enough by the time I got back after the phone call. She wanted you to come along, too.”

Theo shrugs, getting into the truck and starting the engine. “We talked about poop. Something like that bonds you.”

Liam gives him a bemused look before continuing, “You were the one who insisted on getting her healed up. That’s what I meant.”

The chimera feels a bitter smile twist around his lips. “Making sure a kid isn’t in pain? That’s a pretty low bar to clear.”

“I’m not—” Liam sighs, “I’m doing this all wrong. I’m saying that it shows. I can see it so much more now, in so many things you do.”

“What shows?”

“That you care. A lot.”

Theo looks at him blankly, trying to process what it all means. Would he have cared before if a crying, bleeding child had been before him? He doesn’t know if he would, but he also can’t say for sure that he wouldn’t have. Most people would. It was basic human instinct, wasn’t it? But is he ‘most’ people? Could he have been?

Finally, he just says, “She’s a kid.”

“Yeah.” Liam nods, “And it’s not like I thought you would, I don’t know, kick her like a football if she didn’t stop crying or something like that.”

“That’s— I feel like I should be both insulted by the implication, but also alarmed that you think someone would try to score a touchdown with a literal child.”

The beta ignores him, continuing with his line of thought. “It’s just, I’ve never seen you with a kid before. Never had to wonder whether you’d actually hurt them if they got in your way.”

Theo swallows, uncomfortable with how Liam’s words echo his own thoughts.

“But I guess that doesn’t really matter, because who you are now is someone who cares. And who you are now is more important than who you were. Besides, you did more than just make sure she’s okay.”

Out of his peripheral vision, Theo can see the beta watching him carefully. “You’re the one who wanted to give her the siren water,” Liam repeats, the words laced with both earnestness and conviction.

“I don’t know who I am now,” Theo admits softly, stiffly.

“But you’re figuring it out,” Something in Liam’s voice urges Theo to look over at him, the beta giving him a small smile, “And I think that’s good. Don’t you?”

Good. The word haunts Theo as they wander through a supermarket, buying multiple tiny cups of ice cream, way more than a kid and them could reasonably consume.

Good. It stays with him as they go back to the clinic, Adora greeting them with cries of delight, all her cuts now clean and washed with siren water.

Good. It lingers as they eat the ice cream, Theo contributing a few words whenever Liam or Adora direct anything at him, though he largely keeps silent.

Good. He can’t let go of it even as the Sheriff assures them that Parrish had found some of Adora’s family who were going to meet them at the hospital.

Good. He hears it in Liam’s voice as they leave, the beta just naturally assuming that Theo would drop him off. Their new normal that has only just begun to start to feel like it could be normal.

Is it good? He’s making progress, yes. Liam trusts him. Mason and Corey seemed to have accepted that, too. It’s all progress. But can he be good? Can one forged by those who had only wanted to recreate a source of chaos, who made him in the image of death, ever truly be good?

Probably not.

But he can help the pack. He is helping the pack. And while good will never be an option, at least being better is.

As Theo crawls into the back of his truck, he hopes that will be enough to keep the nightmares of hurting little girls away.

It doesn’t.

***

Theo dreams of Tara. He’s almost thankful for it. He’d been expecting to see Adora, and somehow, he feels like that would have been worse. Tara was dead. Long gone and dead, by his hand, yes, but still gone. Adora was alive. And maybe that’s why Theo had wanted to help heal her, not just because she was a child and had been in pain, but because he just… wanted her to live. The healing wouldn’t have added very much to that; she would have been fine, but it’s as if he needed to do something that would help him internalise that she would live.

Like it was a way to make up for Tara?

No, it can’t be. Nothing ever would. And it hadn’t made him feel better about what he’d done when he saw Adora somewhat happy and healing. But he had felt lighter. He wants to feel that again, wants to hold it against himself, even as he knows it will fade away. There are darknesses of unfathomable depths that no light can ever hope to conquer.

Theo watches the wounds in his hand heal, accepting this new facet of himself. Absolution had never passed through his mind. He’s too far gone for that, maybe even since he was born, fated to walk this path — the Dread Doctors had merely lit the way.

But there could be moments he could hold onto that would make this easier to bear. Like helping the pack, being a part of the good they create. Even those stolen moments with Maxie, meals with Deaton, hours spent lying in the grove doing nothing but staring at the sky — all little things that added up to a small, temporary brightness.

This is his price to pay for all that his past has wrought, the rock he will roll up the hill forever, over and over again.

What was that quote by Terry Pratchett? ‘No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.’

But there are ways to bear it. There are ways to make it meaningful. And he’s been finding them without realising over these past few weeks.

Good is impossible, but he can be better. And he can finally deserve all that Liam and the pack have given him: a little brightness, like a satellite that brings with it artificial light in the night sky. Never real, always ephemeral, but something that passes by from time to time.

There’s also one more thing he needs to do.

***

The last time he’d been here, it hadn’t been sincere.

He’d known he was being followed, that Liam and Stiles had tracked him to this very river, to this very bridge. It had all been by design, a way to make Stiles feel terrible about going after him, to make Liam and Scott doubt Stiles’ judgement, to ingratiate himself to them.

There had been a part of him that wanted to come back, ever since he’d climbed out of that hole and back into Beacon Hills. But what would he have found? What could he have done?

Maybe a part of him had expected that of all places, this would be the one where Tara would come climbing back after him again. And he was a coward. He didn’t want to face it yet, even if it was what he ultimately deserved.

He knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that returning his sister’s heart will always be what awaits him at his end. You cannot live on a heart that is stolen and expect to be happy.

But it’s not happiness that he wants. He wants existence. He wants moments to hold on to in the darkness. He wants to do better with the chance that he’s been given. He knows this now, in his very soul. In her heart.

But he could face this part of it. And so, he came back to where it all began. There are no flowers this time, no tears, no sadness. Only guilt and regret.

“I promise you will have it back.” He whispers as he stares into the water. “I promise I won’t keep it forever. I just… want to do something better with it. Maybe even something good.”

The water only answers with the gentle sounds of a slow-moving current. The river doesn’t stop to listen, the world doesn’t pause in acknowledgement.

“I want to say I’m sorry for taking your heart. But how can you accept any apology? How can I say sorry for something I really wanted and expect you to believe it? How can I possibly mean and believe it?”

The sounds of even the forest disappear from around him as he gazes into the clear stream that never stops its path, looking right down to the dirt at the bottom.

“But I am… sorry you’re not here.”

It’s not quite the same thing. Theo isn’t sure if he can be sorry for taking her heart, especially when he had not just agreed to it but had wanted it. Besides, there was no chance of forgiveness for him. This was more than a fact, more than a truth — it was the point at which all things within him orbited. An absolute. Theo’s Axiom.

But he can be sorry that his sister is gone. Even if it doesn’t give him forgiveness, acceptance, or even acknowledgement in any form, he can be sorry for this. Because this is true.

Theo isn’t sure how long he stays there, staring and repeating the words in his head: I’m sorry you’re not here. He hears nothing around him, just the echo of his name in Tara’s voice, that he now replies with the same words: I’m sorry you’re not here.

I’m sorry it’s not you who gets to exist. To live.

***

“Theo?” A hand on his shoulder shocks him so badly he scrambles backwards, losing his balance and falling to the ground with a grunt.

He looks up. “Lyra?”

Instantly, he’s on guard. Why is she here, of all places? But he has to be careful.

“What are you doing here? And did you have to scare me like that?” He keeps his expression carefully annoyed.

She frowns at him. “Why are you on the ground?”

He huffs in exasperation. “Because you scared me?”

She turns, pointing to the left of the bridge. “I’ve been calling your name ever since I saw you from back over there.”

“Oh.”

The girl offers him a hand, pulling him up. “You looked like you had a lot on your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess I was lost in thought.”

“About what?”

“The river.”

She glances around them sceptically. “Water, plants, rocks. What’s so special about it?”

He wonders if Lyra knows. She would, if she were the siren. His name had been all over their papers, after all. This is as good a time as any to try to figure it out.

“Do you know the story of what happened here?”

“When?”

“Almost ten years ago.”

“Then, of course not.” Her blunt and almost condescending tone makes him frown at her. “I’ve only been in Beacon Hills for a month. You’re my only friend, and you haven’t told me.”

“Because I didn’t know you came to the river.”

“I told you before, I like to walk. I come by here sometimes.”

She doesn’t seem or smell like she’s lying, only annoyed that he hadn’t remembered. Or that he’d expected her to know the story.

“There was… a girl who died here.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen, shock evident on her face as her eyes pass over the river, as if expecting it to look different now that she knew. Nothing else about her face changes, but Lyra has never been the most expressive person.

Theo continues. “She was… only eleven. And, I don’t know how true this is,” He fights to keep his face steady, “But I heard it was her brother who did it. Her younger brother.” The heart in his chest stutters. He hopes Lyra doesn’t hear it, that sirens don’t have that ability.

“Why would… why would a kid do that to his own sister?”

“Not for any reason that would make sense.” This part, at least, is true. All he’d wanted was power — what would a nine-year-old need power for?

“Did you know them?” Lyra asks hesitantly. “Is that why you come here? They would be around your age now, right?”

“No, I didn’t know them.” Also true. He can barely remember his sister, barely remember who he’d been. What he does remember of his family isn’t exactly happy. Just mundane, everyday things, like eating breakfast before going to school, coming home, and doing his homework.

“Then why do you come here?”

Theo shrugs. “It just makes you think, right? Like, what would make someone do that?” He wants to swallow; he doesn’t. “And I don’t come here just to think about it. Like you, I was on a walk, and when I saw this place, I remembered.” The heart wants to speed up; he doesn’t let it.

“Do you think it really was her brother who did it?” That startles him. “You said it was just a rumour, right?”

“Right,” He says slowly, “But I heard the family moved away right after it happened.”

Lyra nods thoughtfully, “That was probably what fuelled the rumours, then. Maybe the parents wanted to protect their son, get away from a place that has so much pain for them.” She says with what seems like certainty. “Small towns like Beacon Hills will always talk.”

He just stares at her.

“What? I like true crime.”

“I will never understand why that’s such a popular genre.”

“You’re not a woman. You will never understand.”

Okay, he’s not going to go there.

“But you have to admit, it’s unlikely that a kid would do that.”

Unlikely? Sure. Impossible? Obviously not. “I guess.”

“I hope whoever did do it is paying for it.”

“Me too.” He had. He still is. Always will.

But there was something more to Lyra’s voice as she had said it. Some quiet pain and conviction that spoke to more than just wanting an unknown killer of someone she never knew to face retribution.

“Lyra?” He asks tentatively. She’s staring at the river now, looking down just like he had only minutes earlier. “Are you okay?”

Reluctantly, she turns to face him. “I wasn’t… entirely honest about my mother with you before.”

“Oh?” Theo asks, keeping his voice gentle and concerned, even as suspicion starts to flood him again.

“She really did drown,” Lyra’s voice is low, filled with pain as she turns back to the water, “But she was killed. She was murdered.”

Just as before, there is no lie in Lyra’s smell or heartbeat, no deception at all.

Theo, for once, isn’t sure what to say. Lyra was truly in pain, truly grieving. But sirens were human too, weren’t they?

There’s a hardness in Lyra’s face as she stares down below them, a quiet but steely anger that tamps down the deep sadness he can feel from her, controlled and leashed, but still there.

Yes, sirens were human too. But right now, Lyra was his friend.

“I’m really sorry, Ly.” He tells her softly. “Do you—”

“No.” He closes his mouth. “Sorry, I assumed you were going to ask if I wanted to talk about it. And no, I don’t.”

“Okay.” He nods. “But can I ask you something else?”

She looks up at him, considering. “You can ask.”

“Are you afraid of the water, after what happened?”

Lyra’s eyes turn to the right as she chews on her bottom lip, thinking. “Not anymore. I used to be. But my grandmother… I appreciate everything she’s done for me, but she’s always been a pretty rigid person. She took my mother’s death really badly. But she refused to let us be controlled by it. She harassed the police about it for years, you know?”

Theo nods again, even though he didn’t know, couldn’t have.

“And one day, she found out I was afraid of the water, I don’t remember how. But she dragged me to a pool that very day, literally kicking and screaming.”

Lyra’s mouth twists bitterly at the memory. “I was terrified, and so damn angry. But she threw me in. I remember… being under the water. Imagining this was how my mother felt. I couldn’t breathe, could only flail around, trying to yell and scream. But every time my head broke the surface, I heard my grandmother speaking to me. She told me I was strong and that I could defeat this. That fear is just a steel wall that you can burn down and forge into the weapon you need it to be. I learned in that moment how to tread water. And then, I learned how to swim.”

Theo feels like he should be horrified. And a part of him is, it’s a terrible story, a terrible way to learn how to swim when one had only been caught up in an understandable fear. But the pride in Lyra’s voice, the way she held her head up high…

“That’s…”

“Horrible?” Lyra chuckles darkly, “I suppose. But my grandmother was there when I had no one. She was the one who helped me keep going, who took care of me. Who showed me all the ways I could be strong. And I know I’m the better for it.”

Lyra knew she’d gone through hell, but she’d defeated her demons, or one of them at least, and come out the other side victorious. She’d survived. No, she thrived.

Theo wanted that for himself.

“But I hope that whoever murdered my mother and that girl, I really fucking hope they’re paying for it.”

Theo wanted that too.

Chapter Text

“Theo?”

The chimera looks up from his phone, where he’d been catching up on the puppy pack group chat, now appropriately named ‘Can we stop using this chat for memes?’ by Liam. Corey, evidently, was a bit of a fanatic. Alec and Nolan had also been updating them on their quest to find and warn the supernaturals of Beacon Hills, as well as uncover more siren suspects. They’d been successful on both fronts, though success was a little subjective for the latter since they’d had to add two more suspects to the younger siren list.

Oddly enough, or really not all that odd since they would want to cover their tracks, all the prospective younger sirens had families beyond mothers. So, it was back to no answers on siren identities.

Liam had also been castigating the younger boys in the chat for being nuisances to the Sheriff and Parrish. Clearly, Alec and Nolan were taking it upon themselves to carry on the tradition of chaotic werewolf-human duo, following in the frenzied footsteps of Scott and Stiles, and Liam and Mason before them. It had been hilarious to read.

Mara stands before him, somehow still strikingly regal despite the sleepiness that clouds her eyes, a sentiment that Theo echoes. He’d somehow gotten the genius idea to go to the bakery Lyra had mentioned first thing in the morning, wanting to surprise her with her coveted Shio Pan. Genius? More like fatuous. It was just past 6 am, and the bakers had yet to pull out the first batch.

And it wasn’t really a surprise. Well, it was. But it was also, hopefully, a way to get closer to her, and subsequently, closer to her truth. Bread should work, since she was obviously part of some Shio Pan cult, or something.

“Hey, Mara. Here for breakfast?”

She smiles tiredly, coming to lean against the wall next to him. “Yeah. I bumped into Lyra a few days ago, and she mentioned she was on some sort of quest to look for Shio Pan. Couldn’t get it out of my head when she talked about how buttery and soft it was, so I thought I’d pop by. Maybe even get her a couple as a surprise.”

Theo lets a small smile come to his lips. Mara was still a bit of an enigma to him; Mason had been the one who was ‘assigned’ to watch her for suspicious signs. All he’d done so far was gush about her. And Theo himself had seen nothing to make him leery.

“Seems like we had the same idea. Apparently, she’s not much of a morning person, so they were all sold out when she got here yesterday. I got like, thirty texts ranting about how pissed she was.”

Mara shakes her head almost fondly. “She’s a strangely sweet girl, that one.”

It was an apt description. Theo had thought the same. He knew both girls weren’t exactly close. Mara knew everyone —or more accurately, everyone knew her— but kept a small circle of close friends. But Mara just seemed to get people, knew not just how to talk to them, but how to genuinely engage, putting one at ease almost instantly. Theo knew he had similar gifts; he’d been called a charmer all his life, yet Mara was sincere where he wasn’t. Or hadn’t been. He finds himself wishing he could be more like her. A natural, normal, empathetic soul. How life would have turned out so differently.

“She’s great.” He means it when he says it.

“I’m glad she has you, Theo.” Mara tilts her head as she says it, smiling again. “I get the sense that she’s not the type to open up to people very much, and that’s okay. Not everyone needs a whole group of friends. But everyone needs someone. And with all she’s doing for her grandmother, well, I’m glad she has someone to remind her that that’s not all who she is.”

Mara meant every word of it. That was the thing about her — she looked like the kind of person you’d want to hate; she was so flawlessly beautiful. But she truly did care. She smelled of nothing but sincerity.

Theo isn’t close to her either, but a part of him hopes that she isn’t the siren. It would be a waste if she were. It would be a waste if it were Lyra, too, though the chimera knows that hope might be a little more selfish. He did want an uncomplicated friendship, after all.

“Yeah, she’s doing so much for her. But I suppose her grandmother’s done a lot for her, too. And,” He hesitates. Mara gives him an encouraging look. “I’m glad to have her, too.”

She bumps her shoulder against his. “Bonds are a beautiful thing.”

Before Theo can answer, the bakery door is thrown open, and the intoxicating smell of butter, salt, and sugar, already evident when the doors had been closed, overwhelms the street.

“Ooh.” Mara murmurs, clutching her stomach as it suddenly growls. “I might not be able to wait till we get to school to try their goods.”

Theo grins. “You read my mind.”

They each purchase one Shio Pan, the bun smaller than a croissant, but denser too. There are, Theo is pleased to note, shards of flaky salt dusting the top.

Mara taps her bun to Theo’s. “Down the hatch then.”

They take a bite. And both let out identical moans of pleasure. The Shio Pan was so soft, almost criminally so, and the butter in the centre — absolutely decadent. Even the salt on the top added a delightful crunch. And the bottom of the bun? A little crisp, like those divine edges you get on a corner brownie piece.

It was perfect.

“Oh, no.” Theo groans as he takes another bite.

“Hmm?”

“I have to yield. Lyra told me I’d admit that Shio Pan are superior to croissants, and I was so sure she was wrong. But this is… wow.”

“It is so good.” Mara practically scarfs down the bun, for the first time looking inelegant. “But a true experiment requires that we compare both at the same time.” She nods behind the chimera, and he turns to follow her gaze: a tray of fresh croissants.

He looks back at the girl, a gleam in his eye. And maybe his stomach, too. “We must have integrity in our experiments, after all.”

She nods. They repeat the same process. And while the croissant is good, all butter and flaky layers, he has to hand it to Lyra: she really knew her bread.

“As much as it pains me to admit, I have to give it to the Shio Pan.”

Mara’s eyes widen from where she’s already, again, almost done with her croissant before Theo has even gotten halfway through his. “Really? It’s a close call, but I gotta go with the French on this one. Just something about all those layers.”

“I think any friendship between you and Lyra is now doomed.”

Mara laughs, “Probably. But I dare her to fight me on the perfection of a Kouign-amann.”

They head up to the pastry case, considering their options. Theo was going to buy a whole bunch of only Shio Pan. He orders a baker’s dozen, which was a dent in his pocket, but truly worth it. Not just for the bun itself but for the delightful reaction that Lyra was sure to have. Plus, some extras. For himself. And maybe other people, too. Why not.

A thought occurs to him. He turns back to Mara. “Hey, if I’m getting Ly some Shio Pan, are you going to get her croissants? You did come all the way here, too.”

She makes a face. “And have her call it the inferior cousin of Shio Pan? No, thank you. I’ll just get her some coffee.”

Theo shakes his head, chuckling, “That does sound like something she’d say.”

“Oh, she did,” Mara looks back at him with a small grin, as she steps up to the counter, “When I suggested croissants as an alternative.”

Mara orders three cups of coffee and even more pastries than Theo had. She shrugs when he looks at her. “I’m bringing some back for my family before I head to school with the rest.”

As they head out, she hands him two cups of coffee. “One for you, as thanks for the company this morning. I swear, if you weren’t here, I would have fallen asleep on my feet outside the door. And I would have been without shame and eaten four more pastries.”

He grins again. “No one’s stopping you from doing just that within the sanctity of your car.”

She winks. “Now, who’s the one reading whose mind? See you in school, Theo!”

And then she’s off, the chimera following swiftly behind in his truck.

***

“Oh, I love you!” Lyra moans as she rips open the box.

Theo raises an eyebrow at the girl, a wasted expression considering she was currently too preoccupied with staring at the buns before her. “So soon? I prefer to be wooed first, to be honest. A little wining and dining. Flowers, maybe.”

“Not you.” She swats a hand toward his arm without looking, missing it entirely.

He pulls the box out of her reach. “You do realise without me waking up at the ass crack of dawn, actually, way before the ass crack of dawn, you wouldn’t have any of your precious Shio Pan right now?”

Lyra whips her brown eyes up to him, glaring so venomously that Theo has to stifle a laugh. “Do you have a death wish?”

“I just want what is owed to me: your eternal thanks and devotion.”

She crinkles her nose. “Might be a bit tough to do that, seeing as how I’m already completely devoted to Shio Pan.”

“You won’t get to show that devotion until I get my appreciation.”

She rolls her eyes. “Thank you, Theo Raeken. The deliverer of decadence. Bringer of bread. Purveyor of pastry.”

He purses his lips in amusement. “Any more?”

“My source of sustenance.” He doesn’t relent. “Giver of baked goods.”

He frowns down at her playfully. “That last one was terrible.”

“Theo!”

“Okay, okay,” He says with a laugh, pushing the box back to her, “Have at it, Ly.”

She doesn’t hesitate, diving into the box only to emerge with a Shio Pan in each hand and victory written on her face.

Lyra bites reverently into one, her face a picture of pure bliss.

“Does it pass muster?”

“Oh, yes.” She bites vigorously into the other one, going back and forth between them. She looks, frankly, mad. And she's devouring them almost as fast as Mara had.

“But please save at least three.” He pauses, “Maybe five. No, seven.”

“Is this a recitation of odd numbers?” She asks through a mouthful of bread, “A calculus sequence, perhaps?”

“Hey, I want some too.”

“Seven? You’re gonna have to be at the gym for days to lose all those carbs and butter.”

“They’re not all for me. I thought maybe Liam and the rest would like to try some.”

“Ah,” She looks up at him, something watchful in her gaze, “So, you’ve all made up then.”

“Make out?” Theo starts, taken aback. “Why would I make out with Liam?”

Lyra gives him an odd look. “I said ‘made up’.”

“Oh.” His cheeks feel flushed. “You noticed?”

“Back when you first came back to school, it looked like there was tension there. But I suppose you’ve resolved whatever happened, judging by how much time you’ve been spending together.”

Theo wonders if she would dig deeper, although he doubted it. Lyra had a way of moving on from topics really quickly when they didn’t seem interesting or relevant to her. If she were interested, now, that would be something.

He shrugs as he tells her, “We had some… conflict when I was here last year. But yeah, I guess we’re all good now.” For the most part.

She nods, dismissing the topic in her usual way, returning to her bread. “I really do appreciate it, though. Thank you.”

He smiles, “You’re welcome.”

“But you could have gotten me a drink, or something.”

“Oh!” He turns, grabbing the cup of coffee. “I forgot, but this is from Mara.”

“Mara?” Lyra asks, now on her third Shio Pan. “She was there too?”

“Yeah. Apparently, when you spoke to her about Shio Pan, she couldn’t get it out of her head. Went to try it for herself.”

“And what did she think?”

“Unfortunately, she still thinks croissants are the pinnacle of pastry.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, though that means more Shio Pan in the world for me, then. What about you?”

“Oh, I completely capitulate to your superior knowledge and palate when it comes to bread.”

She smirks. “Told you so.”

Just then, the bell rings. Lyra leaps up, hands diving back into the box, coming back up with three buns. One in each hand. One in her mouth.

“I’ll thank Mara later,” He thinks is what she mumbles around her mouthful of bun. “Gotta run. Thanks, Theo. See you in the library later, don’t forget!”

“Yes, yes. English project.” He waves her off, the girl bounding out of the room like Maxie with her frisbee, glee seeping out of every pore.

Yeah, waking up before the ass crack of dawn had been worth it.

***

At lunch, Theo considers the bowl of mushroom soup before him, wondering if he should dip his remaining Shio Pan into the liquid or if Lyra would call that a sacrilegious act against bread.

“Oh, perhaps I should try this Shio Pan, a classic Japanese bread, with this very basic mushroom soup?” He mutters to himself, then looks up and around him, almost certain that his declaration of intent to blaspheme bread would have Lyra suddenly materialising out of the ground like a phantasm of pastry.

No Lyra appears, so he slowly dips the tip of his bun, then looks around again. Surely his luck couldn’t hold twice.

Still no Lyra. He tries his concoction. And it’s delicious.

A thunk of something hitting the table makes him look up guiltily with a mouthful of bread.

“Theo.”

He swallows his food. “Baby werewolf. Mini human.”

They sit opposite him, and Theo hides a frown. They’d never sat with him before. In fact, he barely saw those two during school, since they shared a total of zero classes. And weren’t in his book club.

“Why are you sitting here?” He asks.

“There’s nowhere else to sit.” Alec declares

Theo slants his eyes to the empty table to his right.

“That has a fan.”

Theo looks up at the fan that is placed to the right, and definitely not above his table.

Alec deflates slightly. “Everyone else has gone on like, adventures with you. It’s our turn! We don’t even know you!”

“I mean,” Nolan adds, “I’ve had adventures with Theo.” The chimera raises an eyebrow. “Or, I dunno, dealings?” Dealings? “Interactions? Uh, things?”

“Have you both forgotten our little venture with candle wax and the lake?”

“That barely counts.” Alec scoffs.

Theo gestures to the trays of food before them. “And lunch does?”

The baby werewolf shrugs, unbothered. “Better than nothing.”

Before Theo can protest, Alec starts digging into his food. Nolan glances at the box next to the chimera curiously.

He rolls his eyes, opening the box and offering it to them. “You may have two.”

“Ooh.” Alec reaches out with both hands.

“One each!”

“Aww.”

They look at their buns curiously, before each taking a bite.

“Wow, that’s some nice bread!” Alec says.

Theo feels his jaw drop open. “Nice? It’s— that’s Shio Pan!”

“What’s Shio Pan?” Nolan asks.

“The ouevre of all bread!” Damn, he was turning into Lyra. He calms himself. “It’s a Japanese bread roll. They roll the bread around a small stick of salted butter and sprinkle flaky salt on top.”

Nolan shrugs. “Cool.”

“Cool?! It’s— never mind.” Imbeciles.

They eat their food, the silence surrounding them suffused with a strange energy. Theo had spent enough time with Liam, and even Mason and Corey, to know what to expect. Kind of. They expected him to help, and he wanted to help. It was an equilibrium. Liam had been bored when he came to the clinic, and that, plus the dinner and ice cream thing, had been some sort of strange variable, an outlier on the scale of what to expect. But it had been a situation of convenience. They hadn’t sought him out — he’d been right there.

Alec and Nolan were a different story. He barely knew the mini-human, even less so with the baby werewolf. His history with them was different. And sure, they probably knew the stories, but it wasn’t them that he needed to prove himself to. Yet, he couldn’t simply disregard their position in the pack. They didn’t fit in the equation, in the paragraph of what Theo was now rewriting for himself. Like an extra adjective that wouldn’t change much.

Except that Theo loved literature, knew how just one word could make all the difference when deriving meaning and intent.

Like how he’d specifically saved five Shio Pan.

It was just bread. Infinitely superior bread, yes, but bread. It didn’t have to mean anything. Just like Alec and Nolan sitting with him didn’t do anything to his position as an ally of the pack. Flour, butter, salt. Simple, plain ingredients. Commonplace, mundane, meaningless.

Alec, predictably, is the one to break the silence. “So, how’s Maxie?”

Theo furrows his brows. “How do you know about Max?”

Nolan pulls out his phone, sliding it across to Theo. “Liam sent us some pictures.”

Just before the mini-human taps onto a photo, the chimera notes that it’s in a group chat called, ‘No, we are not calling ourselves the puppy pack.’ So, not the chat he was in, and also not a chat with Scott and the others. Interesting.

Also, there weren’t very many messages there. The photos were the latest ones, with the one before being about how Liam was creating a separate chat to add Theo to, which had been quite some time back. Also interesting.

The photo fills the screen, and it’s Maxie. He recognises the picture, taken during her day out with both him and Liam. The beta had sent it to him that night when he’d sent him home. It was actually his current wallpaper — Maxie bounding towards the camera, frisbee in her mouth, joy filling her eyes.

“There’s another one,” Nolan says, swiping a finger across the screen.

This one he doesn’t recognise, a picture of both him and Max. He doesn’t remember the beta taking it, though he recalls the moment. It’s a little grainy, like Liam had zoomed in from a distance to capture the image. He’s kneeling before her, hands around her neck as she gazes up at him with affection. And the expression on his face… he didn’t know he could look like that. Smiling softly, gently. Happy. Carefree.

He swipes back to the picture of just Max.

“I didn’t know he took— he sent those to you.”

Nolan pulls his phone back, shrugging. “He likes Maxie. Said he tried to take selfies with her too, but they were all too blurry cause she was too excited.”

He remembered those. He’d laughed so hard when Max had put her paws on Liam’s shoulder, almost pushing him down, and he’d dropped his phone on his face.

“Do you want me to send them to you?”

“No, it’s— yeah, sure, thanks.” He doesn’t need the photos. He already has the one of just Max. But maybe he could keep the other as a reminder that there were little pockets of happiness to be found in this stolen existence, even if he wasn’t meant for a life of joy.

“Hey!” The three boys turn to find another Mason and Corey coming toward them.

“Move over,” Mason says as he slides onto the bench, Corey following suit, ending up on Theo’s right. There’s an empty space on the chimera’s left, almost as if it was meant for Liam, like that’s where he should be, if he were joining them: right next to Theo. It’s strange.

“Did something happen?” The chimera asks.

Corey answers for them, “Yeah. Lunch. We’re hungry.”

“I meant with the sirens.”

The chameleon gives him a confused look. “No?”

Oh. This was an unprecedented development.

Mason is studying Theo, always the scrutiny with that one. After a moment, he says in a careful voice, “We’re just having lunch.”

Another meal for the ally of the McCall pack. No conflict, no investigation — just a meal. Protein, vegetables, fruits, and carbs. A balanced diet.

The bell rings then, and Alec and Nolan leave the table, the baby werewolf grumbling about how the lunch period was never long enough.

The silence between this newly formed trio is also strange. Theo feels like he needs to say something. Oh, yeah. Bread.

“Hey, I got you—”

“Have you che—”

Mason and Theo blink at each other.

“What’s that?” Corey points to the box of Shio Pan, dissolving the weirdness of the moment.

Theo picks up the box, opens it, and offers its contents to the couple. “Shio Pan. I got them this morning.”

Without hesitation, both Mason and Corey reach for a bun, each taking a bite, appropriately impressed looks filling their faces.

“Okay, I get the hype,” Mason declares, eying the buttery concoction before him with a reverence on his face.

“Yeah, damn, this really might be better than croissants,” Corey adds.

Finally, people with taste.

Mason looks back at the almost empty box, just one piece left. “Pretty big box for just a few buns.”

“I gave some to Alec and Nolan. Lyra had a whole bunch. Six, if you can believe it.”

“I could probably eat six, too,” Corey admits, munching away, though his boyfriend is again looking way too closely at Theo.

“So, you woke up early to go to a bakery before school to get us buns?”

“No,” Theo corrects him, “I woke up early to get buns for Lyra. It’s strategic.”

“Strategic,” Mason repeats doubtfully.

“I’m getting her to trust me more.”

“With bread.”

“With effort.”

Waking up incredibly early, driving a few extra miles, and spending a bunch of money on bread — it was all just to weed out Lyra’s truth. Wasn’t it? Mostly?

Corey looks between the two of them, wide-eyed, before he pops the last bit of his Shio Pan into his mouth. His eyes flick over to the still-open box. Theo snaps it shut.

“That’s for Liam.”

“We can take it to him. We have chemistry together after this.” The chameleon volunteers.

“I’m not trusting you with that.” Corey pouts, actually pouts, while Theo slides the box over to Mason.

“And you bought us buns too?” The human prods Theo. Oh, they weren’t done with this yet?

Theo shrugs, feeling his forehead wrinkle in a small frown. “It’s bread.”

“It’s effort.”

Theo sighs. He supposed this had been coming for a while, this conversation between him, Mason and Corey. He’d hoped he could avoid it, that maybe his actions spoke for themselves, but as Liam had said, sometimes the words were necessary. For both sides.

“Look, I’m not— I’m not a fool, you know? I remember what you said to me back in the tunnels, with Aaron. You’ll never trust me, and that’s fine. And I meant it when I said that I know I have no chance of getting into the pack. That’s not what I want.”

He pauses for a breath, intending to continue, but Corey beats him to it. “You want to help.”

“I— yeah. Did Liam say something to you about that?”

The chameleon shakes his head. “Not really. He told us that you guys talked about things, but that if we wanted to know more, we should talk to you about it. He just told us to trust him.”

Something like relief blooms within Theo as he hears Corey’s words. Liam had told him that he hadn’t said anything, had encouraged him to talk to the couple himself, but it was almost like the beta knew how difficult those moments had been for him, but also how much it meant. Like he knew this conversation was something Theo should do for himself, would maybe want for himself, even if it was an intimidating thing that left him feeling too exposed.

“And we do,” Mason jumps in, “But we can also see what you’ve been doing, you know? You’ve been helping us all this while, but it’s been… more than that lately. Before, you helped us when we called. I suppose we thought that was all we could expect from you this time, too. And that would have been enough for us to, I don’t know, not look at you with so much suspicion.

“But we never expected you to go beyond all of that. You enrolled in school, you befriended Lyra, you came up with plans to investigate the lake and protected us there. And then, there’s Max and Adora. So, we see it. And I know you’ve probably heard it from Liam —he’s my best friend, I love him, but he’s not always great with his words— so I want you to know, from us, that we see what you’re doing. We see how you’ve changed, how you’re still trying to change. So, we trust that you’re doing this for the right reasons.”

Theo waits for the words to come to his head: for now. They trust him for now, for until the siren situation is over. But they don’t feel right this time. It’s like Deaton had said, this was their decision — only they could change it. If they had a reason to.

“We’re also grateful,” Corey chimes in gently, “Thank you for helping us.”

He’d never really expected to hear those words from the pack. Besides Scott, but that was just the kind of person Scott McCall was. And he hadn’t been expecting it at all this whole time. Everything he’d been doing had all been some sort of penance for them, for his history. And gratitude isn’t given for atonement.

But they’re right: he has been doing more. This whole time, every step of the way, helping had also been about being better.

Theo could tell them about the whole conversation with Liam, about how he’d discovered his fear of his history, how he wanted to help, how he now wanted to do better. But it doesn’t feel necessary. They trusted him to do this for the right reasons. It’s a way forward — that’s all he needs.

Instead, what he mumbles is, “He’s not that bad.”

“What?”

“Liam,” Theo looks away, feeling uncomfortable as he says it, though he’s not entirely sure why. “He’s not that bad with the words.”

When the couple remain silent, Theo chances a look at them. They’re both looking at him thoughtfully.

“You have been spending a lot of time together,” Mason finally says carefully.

“Because of the sirens,” Theo points out. “We worked well against all the other stuff, it makes sense we’re… paired off now, too, or whatever.”

“Not just with the sirens.” Mason pauses, “Well, mostly with the sirens, but you had that day out with Maxie, and dinner…” He trails off, still looking thoughtful.

Theo levels a look at the human, both impatient and uncomfortable. “What are you trying to say?”

“That you work well together.”

“You’ve said that before. At the lake.”

“And I’ve been trying to make sense of it since.”

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh, turning to Corey. “Is he always like this?”

The chameleon smiles affectionately, “Yeah, you should hear him go on and on in bed.”

He gives them a look of disgust, “I do not want to hear about your pillow talk over lunch.”

“So, over dinner is fine?” Corey counters, not missing a beat, his smile turning into a grin.

“There is no time and place where that topic would be acceptable to me, and I would like to ask you to please respect my boundaries.”

Corey laughs, turning to see his boyfriend’s reaction, only for both Theo and Corey to realise Mason still looks thoughtful.

“What?”

“I think I’m starting to make sense of it.” Theo isn’t sure if he wants to know this. “It’s not just that you make a good team, and you do,” Mason adds quickly, seeing Theo open his mouth. “You can’t deny that. But it’s almost as if he’s been seeing something in you this whole time that’s been clouded from the rest of us. And you do the same for him, too.”

Theo thinks he knows what Mason has been talking about: Liam hadn’t just been seeing that he wanted to help, like the rest of them. He’d been seeing that the chimera wanted to do better, even before Theo recognised it in himself.

But whatever Mason thinks Theo sees in Liam is incomprehensible. It’s just Liam.

***

“Do you think we should focus on the creatures, the divine, or the narratives?” Theo looks up from the four open books in front of him to see Lyra looking at him expectantly. She had three books of her own before her.

“Well, I’m in book club for a reason — clearly, I prefer stories.”

And he was actually really enjoying this project for that exact reason. Or at least the initial research portion of it. They’d been tasked to identify a recurring motif in mythology across various stories and cultures, tracking the differences and similarities in how they were depicted, and coming up with a hypothesis on how that changed the perception of the myth depending on the society they originated from.

She nods back. “I expected that, and I’m on the same page, though it’s quite interesting to see how creatures and gods have so many similarities across cultures. Like, look at this.”

She flips a book open, shoving it across the table to Theo. “This is the Manananggal, a cryptid in Filipino folklore. It has a lot of similarities to what we know of as a Vampire, like turning into a bat-like creature. They’re usually female, and they don’t drain blood, but they hunt pregnant women to suck out their fetuses.”

Theo opens his mouth to share his myriad horrified thoughts, but it seems like Lyra is on a roll. A bread roll.

“And of course, in Chinese folklore, we have the Jiangshi, which is basically a reanimated corpse that hops around. They don’t suck blood either, but they drain the lifeforce of living people so they can come back to life. Which is pretty similar, you know?”

Theo opens his mouth again.

“There’s also the Southeast Asian Pontianak,” Lyra continues, completely unaware of Theo’s movements, “Which is also a female vampire-like creature. Some sources say they hunt men, while others say they’re the spirit of women who died in childbirth, and thus, hunt pregnant women and children.”

A new and interesting line of thought comes to Theo, completely erasing whatever he’d wanted to say about how horrifying the creatures sounded.

“Maybe it’s not the blood we should focus on, then. It sounds like there are a lot of similarities with pregnant women and losing children. We could even look at, like, La Llorona from Latin American folklore, or even how Hebrew texts depict Lilith as a woman who steals babies in the night.”

Also, he probably shouldn’t tell Lyra this, but the ‘traditional’ Western Vampire didn’t exist. At least, according to what he’d learned from the Dread Doctors.

Lyra stares at him for a moment before speaking. “You just… pulled that out of your head? You didn’t even look at your books.”

Theo gives her a smug grin. “I read.”

Also, Mason had mentioned La Llorona during their dessert hunt. He’d been rather incensed by inaccuracies in some recent movie he’d seen. But Lyra didn’t need to know that; knowledge can come from any source.

“Anyway,” Lyra continues, “That was just about the creatures, but you’re right that the children thread might be interesting to pull on. What else did you find?”

“It might be a little bit rudimentary, but I was thinking about trips into the Underworld? It’s the part of a mythic arc known as Katabasis, a descent into darkness.” He watches Lyra carefully as he makes the suggestion.

He hadn’t been thinking about himself when he came up with the idea. Not entirely. It was strategic. Katabasis had been written on the sirens' papers, after all.

“Exactly! But it’s a pretty common arc, though there are different reasons for each myth. Orpheus, obviously, goes down for love, to rescue Eurydice. In a Sumerian myth, the goddess Inanna descends to the Underworld to meet with her sister Ereshkigal, supposedly to attend a funeral. She’s killed but is ultimately brought back to life. And within the Norse pantheon, there’s a story about Odin’s son, Hermóðr, who goes to ask the goddess of the Underworld to return his recently killed brother, Baldr.”

Lyra takes off her glasses, absent-mindedly fiddling with them as she considers Theo’s proposal. “Yeah, that is interesting. We could look at another commonality, though — both the Sumerian and Norse stories you mentioned also involve siblings.”

Now that was suspicious. Maybe.

She continues before he can react. “But I suppose that’s too common — so many gods and goddesses in different pantheons are siblings.”

Maybe not.

“True, although some lazy loser is probably just going to make their project about that.”

Lyra gives him a wry look, “And that’s why you rejected my idea about us focusing on divine beings who are also associated with the weather? Too obvious for an A, huh, nerd?”

He rolls his eyes. “English has always been an easy A for me. You’d do well to take advantage of my superior knowledge and abilities.”

She gestures at the books and papers spread out before them. “Does any of this look easy?”

“For me, it is.” Theo waves a hand dismissively, “Anyway, what about Taoist stories? Any similar threads there?”

Lyra had mentioned wanting to cover something from her background. She wasn’t a practitioner of the religion, but just thought people could stand to learn about mythologies outside of the Classics. Theo, admittedly more familiar with Western myths but being a lover of stories in general, readily agreed.

“There is. It’s one of the more popular Taoist stories that my grandmother told me about. Maybe you’ve heard of it, Journey to the West?”

Theo nods. He had, but hadn’t read it. He wonders if it also involves siblings. Or sirens. Also, could sirens as spirits also have religions? Or was it all just part of their convoluted guise? Or maybe he was just being paranoid again.

“Anyway, part of the story has Sun Wukong, or the Monkey King, finding out that a demon is taking monkeys. So, he goes to hell to erase their names, and his, from the Book of Life and Death.”

Theo raises his eyebrows, impressed. “I might have to read that. He sounds like someone I can get behind.”

“He’s known for being particularly mischievous and uses a lot of trickery to get his way,” Lyra eyes him with a smirk. “That does sound up your alley.”

He gives a mock gasp. “Is this about the Shio Pan? Because that was not a trick. It was a bribe. A bribe to get you to go with my ideas on this project. And to also keep telling me about good bread things.”

“If we get an A, I’ll bring you to this place in town I found that actually has good Koah-pau.”

“What’s that?”

She gives him a look of mild distaste. “You probably know it as pork belly buns. Heathen.”

“Consider me extra motivated. So, we’re agreed on—”

“Lyra! Theo!” They look up to find Mara approaching their table. “How did you find your breakfast?” She directs this to the other girl.

Lyra smiles up at her. “It was wonderful, but I heard you prefer croissants?” Theo can hear her unspoken words — you heathen. He has to hide a smile.

Mara does a bit of a self-deprecating shrug. “What can I say, I’m a basic white girl, and I embrace it.” She gestures to a chair. “Can I sit? I’m waiting for someone, but I don’t think they’re here yet.”

“Of course.” Theo pulls out a chair with his foot for her.

“Thanks.” Mara glances at the books on the table as she sits. “Oh! You’re working on the English project? That’s what my meeting is for, too.”

She pulls a book to herself, flipping through at random until she gets to a page about Aztec myths, making a face.

“My partner wanted to look at myths where siblings kill or fight each other. You know, like Cain and Abel from the bible? The Egyptians Set and Osiris? And here, see, the Aztec Huitzilopochtli and Coyolxauhqui. But that just seems so bleak. I can’t even fathom the thought of hurting my sister.” Mara looks up from the book with a sly and playful grin. “Unless she steals my clothes again.”

Oh.

“What were you thinking of?” Lyra asks, oblivious to Theo’s suddenly racing mind.

It could all be a coincidence, like Lyra had said earlier, stories about siblings were common in mythology. But fratricide was a little too specific. Right?

Mara brightens. “Snakes!”

Lyra gives the blonde girl a confused look. “Snakes?”

“Yes! But I suppose more specifically, how in certain cultures, the same iconography, like snakes, can represent completely conflicting concepts.”

Mara continues, encouraged by Lyra’s look of interest, one that Theo mimicked while he kept his suspicions in his head.

“So, using snakes as an example, in Greek mythology, you have Medusa, right? And there’s Python, the serpent that the god Apollo slays. But on the other hand, the god of healing, Asclepius, carries a staff with a serpent. It still represents medicine today.”

Those he was familiar with, Lyra too, judging by how she nodded.

“And in Hindu mythology, you have the Nāgas, which are these half-human, half-serpent beings that are highly revered. And yet, one of the Nāgas was evil and subdued by Krishna, who is one of Hinduism’s main deities. I don’t know if this type of dualities would count as a motif for the project, but it’s just so fascinating to think about, isn’t it?”

Both Lyra and Mara had said things that could be counted as incriminating, but hadn’t led to anything substantial. It was time to bring out the big guns.

“Ly was thinking of focusing on creatures, too: Vampires.”

Mara gives the other girl an impressed look. “Also very interesting, especially if you wanted to look at how modern representations have created their own mythos around Vampires.”

“Ooh, we hadn’t considered that. There are already lots of depictions of Vampire-like creatures across many cultures.”

Mara grins. “Maybe that’s your A right there.” She turns to him. “What about you, Theo? Any creatures you wanted to focus on?”

He puts a charming smirk on his face. “Mermaids.”

Lyra gives him a doubtful look. “Mermaids?”

“What can I say? I always had a crush on Ariel growing up.”

Lyra rolls her eyes. “Of course.”

Mara points a perfectly manicured finger at Theo. “I get it.”

“Besides, mermaids are often associated with shipwrecks and drowning sailors, which is something they have in common with sirens.” It is an effort not to pause to be able to better parse their reactions. “I’m pretty sure mermaids are associated with more than just Scandinavian mythologies, but it would be interesting to see if there was any evolution between them and the Greek sirens, no?”

Both of them look thoughtful, considering his words. Their reactions don’t provoke any apprehension from Theo: no stuttering heartbeat, no scent of deception. He’s not sure whether to be relieved or even more suspicious.

“I could be wrong, but mermaids weren’t originally associated with singing. That could be the point at which they both kind of crossed and merged?” Mara points out, looking like she hoped her input was helpful.

“Perhaps,” Theo concedes, “But it was just a thought. I think we’ve already settled on an idea.”

Lyra nods. “Hell.”

Mara twirls a strand of hair around her finger, confused. “Hell?”

Lyra opens her mouth to explain, but Mara’s attention is caught by a guy waving to her from the library doors. “Ah, shoot, I gotta go! But whatever it is about Hell, I’m sure you two will have a really well-thought-out concept to present. I look forward to it. See you!”

“Bye!” Lyra calls out, “Oh, and thanks for the coffee!”

Mara does an about turn, grins with a wink, and then she’s gone.

Lyra turns back to Theo. “Mermaids?” She demands.

He grins. “It was just something that occurred to me in the moment. Mara did ask specifically about creatures.”

“And you went with mermaids?”

“Maybe I wanted to impress her. Didn’t you hear her idea? It was really complex.”

“You wanted to impress her.” He nods. “And mermaids were the way to go?”

“I was desperate.”

Lyra narrows her eyes. “Doesn’t Mara have like, a boyfriend in college or something?”

Theo’s eyebrows jump up on his face. “Okay, firstly, how do you know that? And secondly, I’m not interested in Mara like that.”

“Have you seen her?”

“Why, Lyra,” Theo gives her a mischievous, sideways look, “Is Mara your type?”

She scoffs. “She’s gorgeous. But no.”

“Not into girls?”

“Not into having to be so nice all the time. Did you hear her? She said ‘shoot’ instead of ‘shit.’”

Theo laughs. “Okay, fair enough.”

“And to answer your first question, people talk.”

“Also, fair enough.” Theo gets up from the table, stretching to ease his aching muscles from sitting all day. “I’m gonna grab a soda from the vending machine. Do you want anything?”

“I’m good. But hurry back. I’m not reading all of these books for you.”

“Oh, please. Without me, you’d just barely scrape by with a B-minus.”

Lyra throws a pencil at him that he easily dodges, chuckling all the way to the machine.

His, admittedly desperate, attempt to weed one of them out as the siren hadn’t worked. Actually, nothing had so far. But he couldn’t focus on that now, only on the next plan, whenever it came to him. For now, all he wanted was for Lyra, and maybe even Mara, not to be the siren.

And a drink.

Chapter Text

Liam’s phone is too silent.

The bell rings, signalling the end of History class, and Liam whips out his phone so quickly, he nearly drops it. But there are no messages, no calls. Ignoring that he has another class to get to, he sprints down the hallway, heart pounding, but not from exertion. He manages to catch Mason and Corey just before they head in for their Biology class.

Mason takes one look at Liam and immediately demands, “What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t seen Theo all day.”

“Didn’t you just have History together?”

“He wasn’t there. I’ve been calling him, but it keeps going to voicemail, and he hasn’t answered any of my texts.”

“Maybe his phone died while he was in the middle of something?” Mason suggests, looking a little worried — though not nearly as much as Liam.

“Mase, it’s not like him not to answer.” Liam’s voice quivers slightly, betraying his deep unease. It’s not like Mason knew what Theo was like, at least, not in that way. Liam had been their main point of contact with the chimera; he knew his habits, knew he always responded. And he couldn’t shake this feeling that despite it only having been one missed class, something was wrong.

Corey turns to look at his boyfriend, a little frown forming on his face, though Liam can’t tell if he thought he might be overreacting, or if he’s actually worried about Theo. “He’s supposed to have Bio with us now.”

The trio watch as students file into the classroom, watching them carefully. No Theo.

“Should we ask Lyra?” Corey suggests.

“No,” Mason shakes his head, “If she’s the siren, she might have something to do with it.”

The three of them stand there aimlessly for a second, the gnawing anxiety in his stomach starting to grow, while Mason and Corey look unsure of what to say or do.

“Hello.” They turn, finding the siren suspect herself walking towards them, looking nervous. “I know we haven’t really spoken much before, but I’m Lyra.”

Her arm twitches, like she’s wondering if offering her hand to shake would be weird.

“I’m Theo’s English project partner,” She explains, “And friend. Have you seen him around today? He was supposed to meet me for lunch, but never showed.”

Liam opens his mouth, then immediately closes it again. He should be careful. Cautious, like Theo would. Even if he’s not here to do it for them.

Mason immediately takes charge, putting a friendly smile on his face, though Liam knows his best friend well enough to recognise the slight tension in his posture.

“Hey, Lyra. It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve heard a lot about you from Theo. But we haven’t seen him either.”

“Oh,” She deflates slightly, worrying her lip. “It’s odd, though. He’s usually really good at answering his phone.”

Exactly.

“Didn’t he have free periods this morning?” Mason asks.

Lyra nods.

“Maybe he took a shift at the clinic, got caught up in something?”

Lyra purses her lips, “But that’s where we were supposed to go for lunch. He was going to pick me up here and take me to see Maxie, and then we’d come back to school together.”

“You know Theo,” Liam jumps in, trying to keep his voice steady, “He probably started reading a book at home and completely forgot about the time. Probably forgot to charge his phone, too.”

The girl visibly relaxes, “Oh, that could be true. He did get really excited about our English project and borrowed like, six books from the library yesterday. Including some poetry book that had nothing to do with our project.”

Liam forces a chuckle. “Then I’ll be surprised if he got any sleep at all.”

Lyra smiles. It’s small, but she doesn’t seem too worried anymore, only nervous. Liam recognises the awkwardness — Theo had told them she’d been homeschooled and wasn’t used to being in a school environment. Her worry had been real, though.

“You and I both. Well, I guess I'd better get to class. Let me know if you hear from him?” Liam nods, and she leaves.

He turns back to Mason and Corey. “She was definitely worried.”

“She looked it, too,” Mason agrees. “But also nervous.”

“Yeah.” Corey nods.

“But what was she nervous about — talking to us because she doesn’t know us, or because she doesn’t know what we know?”

That was something Liam hadn’t considered, had just recognised her feelings and attached them to the most obvious thing. Theo would have seen it, just like Mason had. They were a lot more alike than they realised. But Theo wasn’t here.

“Either way, I don’t like that she was nervous.” Liam finally says, though he felt just as nervous. No, anxious. Worried. For Theo, of all people. Of all of them, he was the most capable of taking care of himself, of finding that little crack in whatever held him, working away at it until he was free. It was Theo.

And yet. It was Theo.

“Maybe we should—”

Liam’s phone rings, as does Mason’s.

Liam looks down only to be disappointed, his heart sinking, stomach in his throat. “It’s Deaton,” he holds up the phone to show them.

“Parrish.” Mason flashes his screen.

The beta’s stomach becomes a roiling mass of apprehension. Something is wrong. He’d been right. He turns away to answer the phone, Mason does the same.

“Is Theo with you?” There’s no time for salutations and manners or whatever right now.

-That’s what I was going to ask you,- the doctor’s voice is strained, an echo of everything Liam was feeling.

Liam swallows. “He didn’t show up for class and missed lunch with Lyra.”

-Yes, he was supposed to come here with her. When he didn’t show, I thought something might have come up and sent him a message to check in. But it’s been over an hour.-

“And he hasn’t responded.”

-Exactly. And Theo always responds.-

“I know.” Liam’s voice is grim. “We’ll look into it. Let me know if he shows up?”

-Of course. And Liam?-

“Yeah?”

-He needs you,- There was something to Deaton’s voice, like there was something else he was trying to say with those three words. -Please find him.-

Whatever Deaton had been implying is gone from Liam’s mind as he turns to find Mason also hanging up, his face drawn.

“It isn’t good, is it?”

Mason shakes his head. “A Power Plant worker is missing — since last night, apparently, but her family only called it in this afternoon.”

“That’s electricity, right? What would the sirens want with electricity? Their element is water.”

“Yeah, except this was one of the supernaturals on our list. Her family reached out to Stilinski ‘cause of the warning we gave them after the water poisoning.”

They’re all silent for a short moment, pondering the complexities of the situation.

Corey tentatively speaks up, “This has to be a trap, right? Like what they did with the water pipe.”

Mason frowns. “It’s too similar to what they did before, though. Do we really think they would try the same tactic again?”

“Not that similar.” Liam points out, his voice urgent. “This time, they managed to get Theo. And I think this clearly shows they’re after him, not me.”

“If he really is missing,” Mason tries to say as gently as he can, “He could still be—”

“Really, Mason?” Liam snaps, frustrated. “They go after us at the pipe, and now Theo is conveniently missing, and you still think he might be, I don’t know, sleeping at home?!”

“Liam,” Corey reaches a hand out, placing it on the beta’s shoulder, “I think we’re just… hoping it isn’t true.”

“No! You guys don’t get it! Theo doesn’t just not answer his phone! He’s never missed a call from me. He always replies my texts in less than fifteen minutes. Even when he looks like he hasn’t slept for days, if I call him at 4 am, he always answers. Something is definitely wrong. And we need to do something, now!”

Both Mason and Corey stare at him, shocked by the vehemence in his tone, by his tightly clenched fists.

Liam swallows, looking down at his shoes, trying to take a breath. “It’s just… I know it’s Theo. And he’s not— but it’s just—”

Mason grabs both of the beta’s hands in his own — Liam hadn’t even realised his were shaking. “It’s okay. We get it. It’s Theo. We’re worried, too.”

Liam feels the words building up inside of him, the urge to yell at them that they’re not as worried as he is, that they don’t feel this rawness and desperation. But he tamps it down. It wouldn’t do Theo any good right now. He needs to be in control, to step up and take charge — to be the leader. The leader he’s not even sure he’s capable of being, or has ever truly wanted to be.

“Okay, okay. So, we need to split up and do two things: go to the Power Plant and find Theo.”

The couple nod then fall silent, all searching for the best way to proceed. But the silence is deafening. It’s not exactly pressure, they’re not pushing him to come up with ideas. But he feels it. And he wishes…

No time for that.

“Do we know where he lives?” Liam finally asks.

Mason and Corey exchange glances, before looking back at the beta, all equally lost.

“What?! None of us— have we never thought to ask where he lives?!”

“Maybe Lyra would know,” Corey says quickly in an obvious attempt to placate Liam, “We can ask her.”

“If he didn’t tell us,” The beta bites out, “Do we think he would have told her? One of the siren suspects?”

“Well, we never asked. Maybe she did?”

“And,” Mason adds, “We didn’t ask because he’s just… he’s not the most forthcoming person, you know that.”

“Yeah, but—” Liam cuts himself off. He’d been about to say that that was the type of thing one ought to know about their friends. But Theo isn’t a friend. Right? He was their ally. And he was… Theo.

Their really smart, really annoying pain in the ass, who was always there when you called. Except now.

“But?” Mason prods.

“Nothing. But I don’t think we should ask Lyra. Wouldn’t it be weird that we didn’t know?”

“That’s true,” Mason muses, “But that’s just one part of the problem. Some of us still need to get to the Power Plant, and the rest need to find Theo. Whoever’s part of the search party will have to find some way to figure it out.”

“Yeah, okay,” Liam nods, “I’ll call Alec and Nolan. They can go with you to the Power Plant, and I’ll go find Theo.”

Liam doesn’t wait for them to agree before he pulls out his phone, dialling Nolan. He can feel the question in the eyes that bore into him, knows that they’re wondering why he wouldn’t want to go to the Power Plant. But it’s Theo. Which somehow explains both why he should and shouldn’t go with them.

It only takes minutes for both Alec and Nolan to come barrelling out of the school doors to where the trio were now waiting for them by Mason’s car.

“So, what’s the plan?” Alec huffs.

“You two will go with Mason and Corey to—”

“Actually,” Mason interrupts, his tone careful as though he was expecting a reaction from Liam, “There’s something else we should probably do.”

“What?” Liam snaps, his body restless, wanting to just run and start looking somewhere, anywhere.

“This might be as good a chance as any to find out which of the girls are the sirens. We have six suspects — Nolan and Alec could go around the school, see which of them are missing.”

“The mother siren could have taken Theo,” Liam argues back, not wanting to change their plan, even as he knows that Mason was right.

“Yes, but it’s still an opportunity we should take advantage of. We need to be smart about this.”

“Strategic,” Corey agrees. And that’s the one word that makes Liam, albeit reluctantly, change his mind. It’s what Theo would do.

He sighs. “You’re right, okay.”

“Why do we always get the boring jobs?” Alec moans.

“You can get a slice of the action once you prove that you’re going to stick to the plan, instead of always going rogue!”

“Hey,” Alec raises his hands, “Pretending to be Mormons totally worked when we went door-to-door. And it was Nolan’s idea!”

“I was talking about when you tried to break into someone’s house to smell if they were werewolves or not!” Liam barks out at them before pausing, “You pretended to be Mormons?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna need to hear that story,” Mason jumps in before adding, “But we really need to go.”

“Come on,” Nolan tugs at Alec’s arm, “We should start looking, too.” They run off back into the school.

Liam turns back to the couple. “You guys can’t go to the Power Plant alone.”

“We won’t be alone,” Mason says firmly, “Stilinski and Parrish will be there.”

“And that didn’t exactly work out well last time,” Corey points out, though he does seem somewhat unwilling to say it.

Liam knows why — he should be the one to go. He’s supposed to be their leader, after all. Their pseudo-Alpha, the one who makes the final call. Of the things they needed to do, sending them to the Power Plant would likely be the most dangerous option. He couldn’t send them there.

He sighs again. “I’ll go to the Power Plant. You guys look for Theo.”

Mason frowns at him, “You don’t have a car. And you shouldn’t go there without backup either.”

“I’ll run,” Liam shrugs, the movement stiff. He still felt restless, unmoored. The run would probably do him good. “And like you said, Stilinski and Parrish will both be there.”

“I think we should call someone, get some help.”

“Who?” Liam demands impatiently, but as he says it, he realises they do have someone they can call, someone who’d just come back to town: Derek.

There’s a part of him that doesn’t want to do it. Derek would be willing to help, probably. But what kind of leader would he be if he couldn’t handle things himself?

Not Scott.

The words come unbidden to his mind. He’s not Scott. Sure, Scott had asked for help before, but that had never come easily to him — it had always been a last resort, his first instinct to always shoulder everything himself. And that had worked for him, but Liam was not Scott. As much as he tried to be, he could never be the kind of leader Scott was. He was going to be the beta who asked for help.

And Derek was strong. If he went with Mason and Corey, Liam could go back to looking for Theo.

“We call Derek,” Liam tells the couple, who instantly agree. But then, he remembers something. “And Peter.”

“Peter?”

“No!”

“I know, I know. But it’s Peter. He always knows more than everyone else.”

The couple agree with great reluctance, and the call to Derek is made. The older werewolf agrees to meet them at the Power Plant, promising to drag Peter along by the scruff of his neck if he has to.

***

They’re both there by the time the three of them pull up into the parking lot of the Power Plant, tires squealing from the sheer speed that Mason had been putting them through.

Stilinski and Parrish are eying Peter with expected distaste, the Sheriff’s hands on his waist, like he wanted his hands as near his gun as possible without drawing suspicion. But this was Peter: he knew.

Again, Liam wastes no time on manners as he jumps out of the car, rushing toward the adults. “Theo’s missing.”

All of them, save for Peter, have their eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Peter merely wears a look of slight interest, like he was considering between two different blends of tea.

“Then this is probably a trap.” Stilinski realises, “Like the last one was.”

“I don’t care.”

“You should,” Derek tells the beta.

“Thanks for the suggestion. Still don’t care.”

Derek huffs impatiently. “We have to be smart about this, Liam. The sirens are targeting the pack, in addition to all supernaturals. Getting us out of the way makes their path clear. This could be part of their plan to separate us so they can pick us off.”

“We are not leaving Theo to them!” Liam growls out, his anger slipping out.

“No one here is saying that,” The Sheriff says firmly. "All we’re saying is that we have to have a plan — a good one, so no one gets hurt.”

“Or,” Peter adds casually, like he was talking about the weather, “One that ensures as few of us as possible get hurt.”

Everyone glares at him, even Corey, who Liam would never have thought capable of a look of such revulsion.

“What? I’m being realistic. Positivity can be toxic, you know.”

“Anyway,” Parrish starts to say, shooting one last look at Peter, “Is there any possibility of the siren’s abilities being related to electricity, somehow?”

Derek, Peter, and Mason all shake their heads no, the latter explaining, “Everything we know about them has to do with water. I’d say that’s impossible.”

“Okay,” Stilinski muses, “Then it’s possible that they took the woman because she’s supernatural, not because she works here.”

Liam opens his mouth, but the Sheriff continues before he can speak, “I’ve already got the rest of my Deputies looking into it, like a normal missing persons case. I just figured it’s best we, uh, have the supernaturals at the spot that’s most likely to have supernatural activity.”

“But if this is a trap,” Parrish points out, “Then both the Plant and Theo would be just as likely to have a siren waiting, ready to pick us off.”

“Alec and Nolan are locating the younger siren suspects in school,” Corey explains, “But they’ve only found four out of six so far.”

“So, what’s the best way to do this? Because we don’t know what’s happening inside the Plant, but if they have Theo…” Mason lets his voice trail off, his eyes drifting to Liam, who looks away, trying to swallow his fear and worry. The anger that always threatens to overwhelm when things go spiralling out of his control.

“We don’t have a choice: we have to split up,” Derek tells them, no one protesting. It was the only thing to do. It was exactly what Liam had wanted to do in the first place. And yet they’d all just been wasting time, making plans and having discussions, while Theo could—

“Liam?” He looks up to see Parrish looking at him with concern. Actually, everyone was watching him. “We’re splitting up. Where do you want to go?”

There are two things he’s feeling right now. The first is relief that he isn’t expected to decide for everyone. The second is disappointment that he hadn’t been trusted to make the decision.

No, he has to focus; this isn’t about him, it’s about Theo.

“Derek and I will go look for Theo.” Peter volunteers.

“We will?” Derek raises an eyebrow at his Uncle.

“I’m not going in there.” Peter tilts his head toward the Power Plant.

Parrish narrows his eyes at the werewolf. “Why? Do you know something we don’t?”

He scoffs. “Of course not, but have you ever had electrical burns? Once with a fire was enough for me, thanks.”

Derek rolls his eyes again. “Fine, I’ll go with Peter.”

“I’ll go with them.” Corey offers. Mason immediately turns to his boyfriend, a protest ready on his lips, but Corey speaks before he can say anything. “I’ll be okay, babe. But think about it, we might have to go to the Lake and… being invisible will help.”

He obviously doesn’t like it, but Mason agrees. It made the most sense. Although this settled the decision for Liam: he had to go into the Power Plant. It was too unbalanced otherwise.

He hates it.

But he forces himself to say the words, “Then the rest of us will go into the Power Plant.”

Corey and Mason’s eyes land on the beta, anticipating a reaction, but he ignores them in favour of turning to Peter, needing to ask him something that had been eating away at his head. Before he can say anything, the former Alpha speaks.

“Relax, Mini-Scott, I won’t do anything to Theo. Why, I actually quite like him. Which is more than I—”

“You know where he lives, don’t you?”

Peter halts mid-sentence, mouth still open. Slowly, he closes it, a hint of a smile forming on his lips, a gleam shining in his eyes. “That implies that you don’t. Didn’t have a little heart-to-heart during all those nights braiding each other’s hair in Mexico?”

“Peter,” Derek mutters, the warning clear in those two syllables.

“Think about it. Theo, ostensibly, has been with the Dread Doctors since he was nine. They failed at making him their Beast, but he was their first chimera. What do you think they were doing between their first attempt with him and when they showed up in Beacon Hills?”

Liam lets out a growl, stepping forward, not wanting to have to sit through another of Peter’s long, unnecessary monologues, but Mason grabs the back of his shirt, yanking him back. “I think we should hear this,” he murmurs.

“Do you think they were all just living in the sewers like some big happy family? Clapping their hands and cackling madly about the day they would finally enact their plans? Of course not. And consider that Theo has a way with people, with words. He would never have been able to break your pack apart otherwise. Where do you think he learned those wonderful social skills of his? From centuries-old mad scientists who need gas masks to breathe? A Nazi shifter floating in a green tube?”

On some level, Liam already knows what Peter is getting at. Theo had helped the Dread Doctors with their chimera experiments in exchange for their assistance in his quest to be an Alpha. He had to have been helping them before they even showed up in town, likely doing the same thing to teenagers in other schools, other towns, other cities.

Knowing was one thing, but he had never examined it up close. In a way, he’d taken it for granted. It had just been another part of Theo’s ‘evil nature’ — all things he had willingly done for a taste of power. And while the past was undeniable, he’d never considered what that would have meant for Theo, the person who’d lived it all.

A pressure rises within him, like cresting waves in their unstoppable quest to crash against a cliff. Why hadn’t he seen all of this? Why had he —all of them— erased all these parts of history to fit into the story of who they assumed Theo had been? There had only been the ‘Theo before’ and the ‘Theo now’. Two halves of the same whole, but what held them together?

There were valid reasons why he’d never considered this line of thought. Even as the guilt rushes through him, he cannot deny that. ‘Theo before’ had been a monster with monstrous deeds to match. Something like that completely overtakes your vision, makes you focus on that one point, like a statue that exists as it is, frozen by its creator in the visage picked for it.

The last few weeks had made Liam see the ‘Theo now’, the one who helped, the one who was trying so hard to make up for his past, perhaps even fighting against old instincts. The one who, when he thinks no one is looking, lifts his face to the sun every time he steps outside, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiles to greet the sky.

Now, the concept of ‘Theo before’ had to evolve, too. And judging by the look on everyone’s faces, they were realising the same thing: Theo had been a monster, yes, but he’d also been living with monsters.

Peter continues, as if unaware of the epiphanies dawning on those around him, though the gleam in his eyes says otherwise. “He had a house when he came to Beacon Hills, didn’t he? And parents. Where do you think they came from? Do you think they were just waiting here for him to get back?”

“Just say what you mean, Peter,” Derek growls, fisting his hand in his Uncle’s t-shirt, eyes flashing impatiently. “We don’t have time for your self-aggrandising hyperbole bullshit.”

Peter leisurely wraps a hand around his nephew’s wrist, finger by finger, before pulling it off and dropping it as if it were a dirty sock.

Liam grits his teeth, a growl leaking through, and Mason’s hand tightens on his arm.

“It is really hyperbole, though? The Dread Doctors giveth, and now that they’re gone, logically, everything is thus taketh away, yes?”

Peter pauses, revelling in the drama, turning his icy blue eyes to Liam. The beta has never wanted to strangle someone more.

“Where do you think he’s living?”

“Theo’s… homeless?” Mason breathes in horror.

“No, that…” Corey trails off.

“His truck,” Liam realises, “He’s been living in his truck.”

“Since you brought him back?” Parrish asks, aghast. “That was months ago!”

Liam rounds on Peter, his eyes narrowed, steps slow but predatory. “You knew.” In his periphery, he sees Mason reach for him again, but he easily sidesteps him. “You knew and you didn’t say anything?!”

The older werewolf gives him a look of mock contrition. “Why, I thought you all knew! Or rather, that you knew but didn’t care. After all, Theo’s like me, isn’t he? An outsider. Born for deception, thrown into disgrace.” He cocks his head. “All he needs is a little scar on his face.”

“You didn’t say anything?! This whole time?!” Liam lunges for Peter, who doesn’t make a move to avoid his reach. Not that it mattered, Derek had grabbed his arm before he could reach Peter, yanking him back.

“Exactly,” Peter tells him, blue eyes glittering. “This whole time. Where did you think he’s been living since you unearthed him? Would you have cared if you knew back then?”

That stops Liam from struggling in Derek’s grip. He doesn’t know. He’d hated Theo back for so long. Hated that he represented everything he hated about himself: his failures. Failing Scott, failing Mason, failing the pack. Hatred had turned to ambivalence, had turned to indifference, had turned to reluctance, and now, acceptance. No, not just that.

It's trust. It’s regard. It’s the fact that Theo had gone from a reminder of the past to a person who was a part of their present. Maybe even their future. Someone who matters.

It’s hard to think about whether he would have cared. Being homeless was a type of suffering he’d never wish on anyone. He wouldn’t have wished it on Theo, even when he hated him, but he doesn’t know if he would have cared. Acknowledging this part of himself is difficult. It’s a history he doesn’t want to confront, he realises, like Theo had been afraid of, too. And this is just a small thing, a blip in comparison. It makes him understand, in some small way, exactly how hard it had been for Theo to face his past.

They have to find him. Need to find him.

Liam whirls on the Sheriff and Parrish, not bothering to control his anger again. “Did you know?” He demands.

They raise their hands in supplication. “No.” Stilinski says, “I didn’t know. I would have said something if I did. You know I would.”

Parrish shakes his head, still looking stricken by the news. And the look on their faces, the sympathy that they exude, it’s hard to doubt. But Liam is so angry.

This was his fault. He was closest to Theo; he should have known. He’d failed, again.

But the anger won’t help Theo now.

Breathe. Don’t let it win. You’ve won against it your whole life. Liam tells himself. Don’t let this be the first time you lose.

The beta turns back to Peter, his voice carefully measured and monotonous, “He goes to the preserve, doesn’t he? That’s why you made that comment before, about him running around in the forest.”

“Took you long enough, but yes.”

Theo had known what Peter had meant back then. Theo was smart. Liam was not.

Liam was here. Theo was not.

“Then that’s where we’ll start.” Derek grabs Peter’s arm, dragging him off in the direction of their car.

Corey scrambles to follow, yelling over his shoulder at those left behind, “Be safe!”

“I’ll be so safe!” Mason yells back. A ghost of a grin passes over Corey’s face, then it’s gone, and so is he, into the car that speeds off toward the preserve. And hopefully, Theo.

***

The Power Plant is eerily quiet and empty, the Sheriff having cleared it out earlier as a precaution. He’d warned Mason against making comic book references this time, but he hadn’t needed to — Mason’s face was lined with worry. And guilt.

“We should have known,” He whispers to Liam, “We should have asked. I should have figured out—”

“I should have known,” Liam whispers back, “I’m the one who brought him back.”

“That doesn’t—”

“I’m the one who’s been spending all my time with him. I should have known.”

“Boys,” Parrish says from behind them, his voice and face gentle, “None of us knew. But we do, now. There’s no use regretting what we can’t change. Let’s start with saving Theo. That’s the first change we can do for him — the rest will come later.”

Liam exchanges looks to his best friend, who nods resolutely at him. What Parrish said was true. Regretting what they hadn’t known —hadn’t cared enough to know— wouldn’t change anything for Theo. What they did next would. He nods back at Mason.

But even as they wander through the space, torches shining, looking for anything out of place, Liam still doesn’t feel… settled. Something within himself not sitting right.

“Liam?” Mason nudges him.

The beta frowns, not sure how to explain it. “It’s just… I don’t know. It’s…”

“It’s Theo.” Mason finishes for him, looking like he understands something that Liam doesn’t.

“It’s Theo.” He agrees, “But I don’t know what that means.”

“What do you want it to mean?”

“That… that it matters. He matters.”

“He does,” Mason vows. “I think he has for a while. I think… he’s even been our friend. We just never recognised it. That changes now.”

Liam looks at his best friend, the person who’d been by his side since he was a child, who knew him best. He’s right. They had to change, too.

And with determined nods exchanged, they move forward into the darkness.

***

It doesn’t take them long to find something odd. A woman crouched down on the floor, swaying a little on her feet. Her long hair covers a face that is pointed downwards, but what skin they can see looks strange, too pale and puffy. Stilinski angles his torch toward her back, and it catches on a name woven into the fabric of what looks like a utility jacket.

“That’s the missing woman.” Parrish says, stepping forward, “Miss, we’re with the Sheriff’s department. Are you okay? We’ve been looking for you. Your family called and—”

Her head jerks back, the movement making her sway even more.

“Miss?” Parrish asks again, sounding uncertain.

She starts to stand, every movement jerky and unnatural, like she was a marionette being pulled by rough hands. Her hair still hangs down like a curtain, hiding her from their view.

“Possessed?” Stilinski mutters to them, reaching for his gun. Parrish does the same.

“I don’t know. Maybe?” Mason whispers back. Liam flicks out his claws.

“If she is,” He starts to say, “Only pain will—”

Suddenly, the figure's head whips toward them, and they can finally see her face. Bloated almost beyond recognition, her eyes vacant and glassy, with a milky film over them.

It is the missing woman. Only she’s not a woman anymore. She’s not even alive.

“She looks like she was drowned.” Stilinski breathes out in a horror-stricken voice.

“I think she was,” Mason mutters in a similar tone, wrapping his fingers more tightly around his bat. “I think this is just a preview of what dark sirens can do with the souls they acquire.”

Claws extend from her fingertips, fangs from a mouth that slowly opens and lets out a hideous, piteous cry.

Three more figures emerge from the darkness, all the same: drowned corpses now reanimated by a benthic, chthonic force. The joggers.

They lumber towards the four living people, all frozen in utter terror and dread.

Then, with sudden speed, the dead lunge for the living.

And everyone scatters.

The Sheriff shoots. Mason swings. Liam slashes. Parrish burns.

But even with bullet holes, deep lacerations, and broken limbs, they keep coming. And they’re strong. The three joggers fight like the killers they once were, the woman with the strength and agility of a shifter.

“How do we stop them,” The Sheriff grunts as he dodges an undead arm, “When they’re already dead?!”

Liam slips at his words, imagining that this might be all of them soon. That this might be Theo, right at this very moment.

Now is not the time for that. Now is the time to let his anger free, to let it sharpen his senses, to let it make him lethal. He leaps forward, snarling as he takes down a body before it gets to Mason. Only it’s not enough — it gets up, ready to take all he’s got, as only a dead thing can.

“I did not sign up for Night of the Living Dead!” Parrish growls as he rips off an arm, only for the body to come back at him, completely unaffected by the loss of its limb.

“I knew you were a secret nerd!” Mason yells as he whacks the back of a body’s knee, sending it stumbling to the ground. “Did you— Wait! Their heads!”

“What about their heads?” The Sheriff shouts back, “I swear, if this is a comic book—”

“They’re zombies, we need to go for their heads!”

“We are not,” Liam slashes at the neck of the shifter-body, “Calling them zombies!”

A horrible ripping noise has Mason, Liam and Stilinski turning toward Parrish, who holds the head of one of the bodies in his hands.

“Works for me.” He declares, orange eyes blazing at them.

Liam looks at Mason and Stilinski.

“Video game tactics?” Mason suggests.

“Video game tactics.” Liam agrees, then leaps toward another body, hands at the ready.

“Head shots, Sheriff,” He hears Mason shout out as he jumps forward, brandishing his bat, “It’s all about brains.”

“I hate nerds,” is all the Sheriff mutters as he follows suit, putting bullet after bullet dead centre into one of the body’s heads.

And finally, it’s over — the dead remain dead.

Breathing heavily, they all look at each other, covered in gore and viscera.

“I think this qualifies me for a raise,” Parrish announces.

“Seriously?” Mason asks, “Not the Anuk-Ite, not the…”

Liam drowns out his best friend’s voice as he pulls out his phone, only having eyes for the message that he sees on his screen. Ignoring the bloody smears his dripping fingers leave, he taps it. It’s Derek.

We found him. Heading to the clinic.

Theo was alive.

***

Liam and Mason burst in through the doors of the Animal Clinic, stumbling into the back room. Four pairs of eyes look upon them in alarm. But none of them are hazel-green.

“We’re fine,” Mason waves off their concern. “It was the bodies.”

“The bodies?”

Mason starts to catch them up, but it’s all lost to Liam’s ears as his eyes fall on the large tub that Deaton is standing behind, full of ice and water.

And Theo, submerged up to his neck, eyes closed, and shivering violently. As he stares, Theo’s mouth opens, letting out a hoarse moan so full of pain that Liam feels his heart twist, his stomach drop.

“What is he—” A firm but gentle arm grips Liam’s shoulder, and he looks up to find Deaton’s troubled eyes upon him. The beta hadn’t even realised he’d moved.

“We don’t know,” the doctor tells him.

“You don’t know?”

“We don’t know exactly what’s happening to him. Derek called when they found him in the forest. He was just feet from his truck, the door open like he’d crawled from it. They said he was screaming, thrashing about, and his body was so hot like… like he was boiled. The call gave me enough time to prepare this tub; they brought him in just minutes before you arrived.”

“Is it helping?” Liam kneels next to the tub, reaching out a tentative hand toward Theo, placing it gently on his shoulder. He recoils almost instantly from the unbearable heat of his skin.

“I don’t know,” Deaton says helplessly, the beta turning to look up at the doctor, his eyes and face filled with a deep-seated anxiety. “I’ve never seen this before. It’s like he’s being boiled from the inside out.”

Liam can’t even begin to imagine how it feels, how excruciating it must be.

“He stopped screaming on the way here,” A quiet voice sounds from behind him: Derek. “He finally wore out his voice.”

Thank god, Liam thinks, regretting it immediately. It was another form of pain for Theo, but just having to see him like… If he had to hear it, too…

“Will it help?” Liam chooses to ask instead. “The cold?”

Both beta and doctor flinch as Theo suddenly lets out a hoarse, anguished cry.

Deaton swallows before answering. “We’ve been pouring cold water down his throat. It seemed to soothe him for a while, but it doesn’t stop the… effects.”

The pain. It doesn’t stop the pain.

Liam reaches out again, ignoring the pain that sears his hand as he tries to take Theo’s pain. Even just three seconds of it is too much, and he’s wrenched away by Derek, gasping.

“We tried that, too.” He tells the beta, the older werewolf looking as unsettled as Liam felt.

“That’s… no one can survive that. It’s too much.”

“He’s fighting it.” Deaton assures him, but his voice doesn’t match his face, “But… theoretically, if he is being boiled alive, his internal organs are failing. His nerves are being destroyed. There’s only so much even a shifter can take.”

The chimera shifts restlessly, the movement causing water to slosh over the rim of the tub. His eyes are still closed, incomprehensible mutters dropping from chapped lips.

“What can we do?” Liam looks around in helpless agony. “How do we save him? What do we do?!”

He’s only met with expressions of equal hopelessness. Even Peter looks troubled.

Liam finds Mason’s face; he is biting down on his knuckle, his face ashen. Corey looks just as upset, maybe even more so, lips quivering and eyes bright.

No. Liam can’t think like that, can’t focus on being upset when there are still things to do for Theo.

“The sirens— Did Alec and Nolan, I mean, did they—”

“All the girls are accounted for,” Corey tells him quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“No, but we have to— pain! It triggers healing! We could—”

“Any pain we try to inflict on him now will only be drowned out by what he’s already going through,” Deaton says, shaking his head, “I’m sorry, Liam. We can only wait.”

“No! There has to be something!”

“I’m sorry.”

***

Liam doesn’t know who brought over a chair or who shoved him into it. He doesn’t know how he ended up holding Theo’s hand in the water, ignoring the cold for as long as he could bear, before switching hands when he couldn’t take it anymore. He doesn’t know who refills the tub, adding more ice as it too quickly melts away.

All he knows is that Theo weaves in and out of consciousness, moaning when he’s awake, muttering when he’s asleep. And that he doesn’t want to leave his side, to let go of his hand.

He’s dimly aware of the movement around him: Alec and Nolan arriving, Mason going for a shower in the back, calls being made. Someone had tried to get him to shower, too. But Liam cannot make himself leave.

A small whine catches his attention, but it’s not Theo. Liam looks down to his right as a small, warm weight rests on his thigh.

“Maxie.” Her blue eyes shine with worry as she looks up at him from her position with her head on his leg. “I know, girl. I’m worried too.”

She whines again, sounding so pitiful, so helpless that Liam feels his eyes start to well up. No, no, he will not cry. Crying means he’s given up. And Theo is still alive. Theo is fighting. He’s been fighting for so long, longer than just today.

Liam will not cry, will not let any unshed tears break free.

He places his free hand on Max’s warm head, stroking her gently. “Don’t worry, Maxie. He’ll get through this. He has to come back to you, doesn’t he? He’ll never leave you behind. So, don’t you worry, okay?”

He turns back to Theo, still shivering, eyes moving beneath his lids so rapidly, Liam wonders if he’s dreaming, wonders what he dreams of. He hopes it’s Max, hopes it’s of that day when they were out at the park playing with her, throwing the frisbee back and forth.

He hadn’t planned on taking the photo of Theo with Max. He’d moved on instinct. It’d been the first time he saw Theo look that way — relentlessly happy, nothing weighing on him, simply living in the moment. He can picture it so clearly in his mind. That Theo wasn’t just the ‘now Theo’. He was something else entirely. Another version of him, one that had been so close to coming into existence, if not for the Dread Doctors. If not for everything else.

Liam knows history, knows how it shapes everything that comes after. The ‘now Theo’ will never be that alternate version, the one frozen in time. But he just wants to see Theo like that again, even if only for a moment. He wants to watch him throw the frisbee for Max, wants to hear him laugh when Liam misses a catch, wants to watch him smile up at the sky. Doesn’t everyone deserve some happiness? But it’s Theo. It’s Theo.

There’s another movement beside him. He looks up — it’s Corey.

“We called Melissa. She said that based on what he’s going through, this is probably the best we can do for him right now. And Deaton said that if he’s still alive… It’s a good sign.”

“He’s fighting.”

“That’s who he is, isn’t he?” Liam tilts his head at Corey’s words, trying to understand. “I mean, look at what he’s been through, what he’s done. It wasn’t all good, wasn’t all for the right reasons, but he never gave up. We literally had to, um, send him to hell or whatever because we knew he wouldn’t stop. He won’t give up now.”

Liam shifts, uncomfortable with the reminder. At the time, it had been the right decision. Hadn’t it?

“He’ll get through this,” Corey says quietly, “And we’ll… do better for him. With him.”

“He matters.”

“He does.”

“And he was alone.”

“Yeah, we found him alone in the preserve.”

“No,” Liam shakes his head, “I mean, even when he was fighting us, when he was with the Dread Doctors, he was alone. Even when he had you and the other chimeras. Everything he did, he did alone. ”

“Not anymore. I don’t think he’s been alone since he started helping us.”

Liam removes his half-frozen right hand, switching it for his left. “I don’t know if he knew that, though. We didn’t know, so how could he know that he has us?”

“He knows.” It’s Deaton, coming to stand on the other side of the tub. “He hasn’t said it in so many words, but I see it, the recognition that there are people on his side now. He sees us, Max, you.” He looks Liam directly in the eyes as he continues, “But I don’t think he realises it’s real.”

“He thinks he doesn’t deserve it.” Corey realises, the chameleon blinking rapidly, holding back tears.

“But that’s understandable, isn’t it?” Deaton points out, his voice conciliatory. Liam immediately whips his gaze up to the doctor’s, wanting to protest, but something stops the words in his throat.

“You misunderstand me,” Deaton says gently, “Based on everything that he’s been doing, everything that he’s been working through, of course he deserves to have people on his side, to believe in him. But with all that came before, it also makes sense that it’s hard for him to accept the chance we’ve given him.”

“He doesn’t know what to do with it.” The memory of that last morning back in Mexico dawns on Liam. “So, he pushes us away.”

“Exactly. Progress is never as simple as a straight line.”

“He was alone before that, though,” Corey says quietly, “After the Anuk-Ite, before he started helping us. We just… didn’t care.”

“But Theo needed to care too, didn’t he? He needed to discover what he wanted of himself. We all know he could have left Beacon Hills at any point, but he stayed. I think a part of him wanted to know why. So, he had to go through that part of his fight by himself. We all need people in our corner, but it’s not always easy to admit it. We have to see that for ourselves, want it for ourselves. Prove not just to those around us, but to ourselves, that we can earn it — some of us just have more of a battle to face.

“Theo’s done all of that and more. You have no idea how proud I am of him. It must have gone against his every instinct to protect himself first, to find other ways of surviving. And yet, he persevered, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was doing at the time.”

“He chose to help us because he wants to do better. And by doing so, he’s letting himself be vulnerable, to let people in. But for someone like him,” Corey’s eyes drift over the unconscious chimera. “It’s the hardest thing to do.”

“This is the part of Theo’s fight that we can be a part of. He knows he has us. Now, he just needs to know that he deserves all of it.”

“That he’s not alone. That he’s our friend. That he matters.” Liam looks back at Theo, so pallid and wan, nothing like the Theo in his mind.

The boy who always had a corner of his lips ever-so-slightly turned up, like he’d discovered all the secrets others didn’t even know existed. The boy whose hazel-green eyes saw everything as it was, remembered everything that happened down to the slightest detail. The boy, who, when he looked at you, made you feel as if he could untangle all the mess within, like he saw everything that could be there before you could recognise it in yourself.

If only Liam had seen the same in him earlier.

“Yes,” Deaton agrees, “He does.”

He places a hand on Theo’s exposed shoulder, only to retreat with a sharp gasp.

“What?” Liam demands, “What is it?”

“He’s not— He’s not as warm anymore. Don’t you feel it?”

Liam shakes his head, no. His hand had been holding Theo’s hand under the water; he hadn’t wanted to remove any part of Theo from the cold if he could help it.

“That means it’s working, isn’t it?”

“Yes. And like you said, he’s not alone.” Deaton looks around the room, finding the faces of Alec, Derek, and Peter. “I think if all of you absorb some of his pain at the same time, that will be the push his healing factor needs to get through this.”

Liam nods, standing, Alec and Derek already walking toward the tub. Everyone in the room cuts their eyes at Peter, who rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Consider it a boon freely given.”

The four of them stand around the tub, a mix of worry and determination. Except, of course, Peter, who remained largely unreadable.

“Ready?” Liam asks. They nod. As one, they each lay a hand on Theo, absorbing as much of his pain as they can take.

It’s still excruciating, all of them wincing and groaning at the sensation, and one by one, they have to stop. First Alec, then, surprisingly, Derek, followed by Peter. Liam holds on as long as he can — every moment is a chance for a Theo, and the beta has always been stubborn. But eventually, he has to let go, too, gasping as he staggers backwards from the release.

He forces himself forward, landing on his knees next to the tub, staring at Theo’s suddenly completely still and quiet form — no more shivering, no more eye movement, no more moans of pain. Staring, and wishing, and hoping.

Theo’s eyes burst open: hazel-green. And full of life.

He plunges forward, wheezing for breath, and Liam —right there beside him, where he’d always been— catches him by the shoulders to steady him, his hands twitching like they shouldn’t be there.

“Theo?” He says tentatively.

The chimera’s eyes dart all over the room, dazed and confused, until they finally meet Liam’s. His eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, roaming all across his face, then down from head to toe, only to come back up to meet Liam’s eyes again, now clear and sharp.

Finally, he opens his mouth. “Are you okay? What happened to you?” He asks, his voice raspy and weak.

But it’s Theo. Alive. Here.

Liam shakes his head. “Not important.”

His voice is weak too, from relief that he doesn’t bother to hide. He doesn’t care if the chimera hears it. He should hear it.

Theo blinks three times. “You’re covered in blood, and —is that a vein?— and you tell me it’s not important?”

Liam shakes his head again. “Later.”

Theo’s gaze shifts downward to the tub, as if finally taking in where he was. “What happened to me?”

“Also later.”

“I— what? I wake up, half-naked in a tub full of ice water, and you expect me to wait till later for an explanation?”

“Yes,” Liam says firmly, his voice stronger now.

“Okay,” Theo agrees reluctantly, drawing out the word. “Then what happens now?”

“Now, we take you home.”

“I don’t—” Theo’s eyes flicker around the room, widening again, belatedly realising they weren’t alone. They look over everyone behind Liam, all of them emanating the unmistakable scent of relief. He shrinks slightly, sinking back down into the water.

Liam tightens his hands on Theo’s shoulders. “Theo?”

He knows what is on the chimera’s mind; they all do. And as much as Liam was going to change that circumstance, come hell or high water, he knew that letting this vulnerability show was something Theo had to do for himself.

Though he fully planned on shoving the chimera straight into an actual bed, even if he denied it.

Theo’s voice is so soft when he finally speaks, carefully lowered so that only Liam can hear it. “I don’t have a home.”

Liam looks back at Derek. He knows Derek hadn’t heard Theo’s words, but he didn’t have to. The older werewolf nods back at him, once.

Liam turns back to Theo, his hands tightening even more on the chimera’s shoulders, an involuntary movement. “You do now.”

Chapter Text

Theo only remembers the nightmares, mostly.

He remembers waking up in the early morning, feeling oddly warm despite the cold. He remembers rolling down the windows to let in the chill, but that the heat had only worsened. He remembers a sudden burning flame, invisible but bringing a searing and unbearable pain.

He doesn’t remember clambering out of his truck, crawling on his hands and legs blindly. He doesn’t remember Corey, Derek, and Peter finding him, having tracked his truck from the school to the corner of the preserve he favoured — the one furthest from the lake and the main road.

He remembers fading in and out of darkness into different scenes: screaming in the back of a vehicle; a cold so shocking to his senses that it had been the most devastating agony; hearing Deaton’s voice, urgent and beyond worried. And seeing flashes of blue, always sky blue.

He remembers the pain starting to abate, and then relief. He remembers seeing Liam suddenly in front of him, covered in blood that he was eventually told wasn’t his. Well, most of it, anyway.

Then, he fell back into the darkness, he didn’t know for how long, only to wake up in another vehicle — Mason’s car, but Corey was driving. Alec and Nolan were there, too. And he’s aching, so tender and raw all over, it felt like he’d been in a terrible battle. That’s sort of true. He was told he’d been fighting for his life, his body somehow cursed by the sirens to boil itself from the inside out.

But the nightmares had been another type of battle.

They weren’t new dreams. Tara had been there. But Tara was always there, a fixture that he knew would remain, yet ever since that day at the river, she wasn’t as… prevalent. Still a deserved onslaught to his nights, still as torturous as ever, but she didn’t come as often.

Instead, in the recent nights that passed, he dreams of other paths.

The night he’d first gone to Deaton for healing, only for Theo to cut him up with his claws, forcing him to help. The first day Deaton had approached him in the grove, only for Theo to burn everything down with a laugh. Him pushing Derek and Liam towards the Texcoco siren in a bid to run away, leaving them behind. Rounding up Mara, Lyra, and all the other potential sirens to torture them for answers.

Maybe your nightmares change with your fears. He feared going down the same path of his history, so it made sense that he would dream of all the things he could have done, had maybe even considered. He can hear Deaton’s voice, though: Of course you could. But would you?

He’d thought about it all. But no, not anymore.

But it’s not just his paths that he sees.

Deaton turning him away that first night, only for Liam and the others to find him and throw him out of Beacon Hills. Derek willingly giving him to the Calaveras, saying now they would know exactly where he was: in cages owned by those who destroyed monsters. Mason and Corey stating that he shouldn’t bother helping because how could they ever trust him? Liam telling him they were just waiting for him to slip up, to let his true colours show, so they could bury him back in hell.

Things that could have come to pass.

These were now his worst ones, the ones he dreaded every night he lay down in his truck, knowing he couldn’t fight sleep forever.

And today, these had been the ones he saw.

Maybe he dreams of these because those had been what he’d expected with every step, always doubting everyone around him. Doubting himself. Those scared him more than his own possibilities. They trusted him on some level, had granted him this opportunity, but this relationship that had been growing between them all was so tenuous, so fragile. Built on a collapsed foundation of chaos, death, and destruction.

But did he truly deserve it? How can you earn a chance that you’ve already been given?

And so, even though he’s so tired, even though he isn’t sure where they’re going, or why these three boys were there with him, Theo doesn’t sleep. He wants to root himself in this reality where he really did help, where he really did want to do better. Where Corey, and even Nolan and Alec, seem to be helping him to some end that he can’t fathom.

He says a few things, nonsense mostly, just to keep the babble around him going. Something to focus on to stay awake. He’s never been more thankful for the baby werewolf’s penchant for prattle.

It’s a surprise when they pull up at Derek’s apartment building. Part of him had been expecting the hospital, to be dragged in for a scan or whatever. He still hated that place, but hadn’t planned to protest. He was too tired.

Nolan and Alec help him out of the car, Theo loathing that he was still so weak and in pain, but nonetheless, needing support. He mumbles a quick thank you that had the two young boys exchanging surprised glances.

“Why are we here?” He asks.

Corey turns, holding up a set of keys with a small smile. “It’s like Liam said — we’re taking you home.”

Theo stares at the keys for a long, long moment. “Derek doesn’t give me the impression that he plays well with roommates. Besides, he looks like he snores, and I’m a light sleeper.”

The chameleon rolls his eyes, not with exasperation, but almost… good-naturedly? “He gave you your own apartment, dumbass.”

“He— what? An apartment? He’s— what?”

Corey’s smile widens. “Come on. Let’s go see your new home.”

***

The place isn’t huge. Nothing as massive as Derek’s loft, but it’s not small, either. A fairly spacious living room with a half-bath. An open concept kitchen and attached dining area. Two bedrooms, joined by a bathroom. The living area also had a wall made entirely of a huge bay window. The perfect place to settle in with a good book, if it had cushions. Maybe a blanket.

And it was furnished. Very basic sets, yes, but a couch and an armchair. A simple wooden table, with five chairs. A refrigerator that Alec opened with a flourish, already stocked with essentials. A washer and dryer.

Corey leads them into one of the bedrooms, the smaller of the two, while Nolan and Alec linger suspiciously by the kitchen. “Liam insisted that the one on the right be your room.”

“Why?”

The chameleon shrugs. “No idea. But he was very forceful about it.”

Theo looks around the bedroom. There’s a queen-sized bed that he cannot wait to climb into. God, he missed actual beds. Maybe that’s why he would have been okay with a hospital visit —a thin, threadbare mattress is better than a truck— but this was a real bed. His, apparently. He feels an overwhelming need to pinch himself. No, to bury his claws into his palms.

There’s also a small desk with a chair, a built-in closet, and a set of drawers. All basic necessities for any bedroom.

And a bookcase. That had actual books. It wasn’t stuffed full, far from it, but there was a stack of them, all a little worn. Theo stumbles over to it immediately, hearing the chameleon mutter an ‘of course’ behind him.

It’s mostly fiction novels — a mix of the classics and more contemporary works. Shakespeare, Austen, Vonnegut, Angelou, and many more. And a slew of Tolkien’s works, even The Silmarillion, which Theo itched to pick up.

“Wow,” Theo murmurs, “I owe Derek a huge one.”

Corey chuckles from behind him, “Yeah, we had a feeling you’d like that part of your room best. Derek and Peter donated those.”

“Peter?”

“Apparently, he’s a massive James Joyce fan.”

Now, why did that not surprise him?

Theo looks around the room some more, not seeing why Liam would insist on this one for him. “What’s different about the other bedroom?”

“There’s a king bed, but that’s about it.”

“Huh.”

Then he looks up. A skylight.

Corey follows his gaze. “Oh, yeah. I guess the other room doesn’t have that.”

***

Theo heads to the bathroom for a shower. And ugh, bliss — fluffy towels, shampoo, and body wash that smelled like Derek that he was definitely replacing the first chance he got. But finally a shower he didn’t have to rush through.

This was all too much to process. The pack, and Derek and Peter, had saved him. They had given him a home. They hadn’t just… given him a pat on the head and said ‘oh well, let us know if you need an extra blanket or something’. The complete opposite of ally behaviour.

A home. A place to stay. Somewhere that was his.

Why?

In any case, the shower woke him up. He was still exhausted, still extremely sore, still weak, but he felt more himself. Emerging from the bathroom, mind still trying to untangle the knot in his head, he finds his duffle bag on the bed. He hadn’t even noticed them taking it from his truck.

Wait, where was his truck?

“Hey, where did my truck—” Theo cuts himself off as he enters the kitchen. There’s a pot of something boiling on the stove that smells absolutely vile, accompanied by two guilty looks on the faces of Alec and Nolan.

“We thought a home-cooked meal would be nice for your first night in your new home,” Nolan explains sheepishly.

“We forgot that we can’t cook,” Alec adds, no shame in his voice. “But it’s the thought that counts.”

“Don’t worry, I ordered pizza.” Corey waves his phone. “And your truck’s with Mase and Liam.”

Theo frowns. “If they were driving my truck here, they should have been here by now.”

“Oh no, Liam’s on a mission.”

“What kind of mission?”

“He wouldn’t say. Just tossed us the apartment keys, grabbed your truck keys and Mason, and left the clinic.”

“Huh.”

The tangled knot of thoughts in his head just got worse, growing like a mass of vines that threatened to overwhelm, to ensnarl and trap. So many questions, so many doubts, but all drowned out by the loudest one of all that said ‘why’?

The door is suddenly smacked open, as if kicked, and Theo tenses immediately. Everyone else looks perfectly at ease.

Corey glances over at the chimera. “Relax. State-of-the-art security system.”

A shopping trolley, of all things, pokes its way through the door, pushed by Mason. There are plates, cutlery, bedding, clothes, even a few cushions. A second trolley appears, pushed by Liam. This one has electronics — a microwave, toaster oven, kettle, even a laptop and DVD player.

“Mase!” Corey exclaims, “Did you all raid a Walmart or something?”

Why?

“Nope,” Mason jerks his thumb over at the beta over his shoulder, who is now looking over the apartment, nodding to himself. “Liam here got everyone to donate their old stuff.”

Why?

“Who?

“Everyone. Deaton, the Sheriff, Parrish, Melissa, Derek, even Peter.”

All the adults. Why?

“We’re working on getting a TV, too.”

Why?

Everyone’s head turns to him. He’d spoken out loud.

Liam shrugs. “Essentials for every house, no?”

“And,” Mason adds, “I’m still sending you that list of things to watch.”

The human starts to unload the trolleys while Corey and Liam help to place them around the space. Alec and Nolan argue quietly about how to get rid of their concoction on the stove.

There’s a roaring in Theo’s head.

“But— I don’t… why?”

The trio looked back at him, looking like they had something to say but didn’t quite know how to say it. Finally, Corey gives him an awkward grin, “You got us bread, so we got you something, too.”

“A house? That seems… unbalanced.” Theo swallows. Something isn’t right. He tries to keep his tone light as he continues, “I would have been happy with coffee.”

Corey shrugs, going back to moving things at Mason’s behest. The human, it seemed, fancied himself a bit of an interior decorator. There was a lot of putting down and picking up and moving things around.

This doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense.

Theo vaguely hears Liam grumbling at Mason. “I don’t see you helping.”

“I am directing this move, not moving this move.”

A thundering heartbreak that pulses in his ears, each time with the same question. Why?

“Why?” Theo echoes out loud, unable to understand, unable to untangle all the threads in his head, getting bigger and more impossible to ever parse. The impossible Gordian Knot of his past, present, and future; his motives and objectives; his reason for being. Theo, the pack destroyer. Theo, the murderer. Theo, the Animal Clinic intern. Theo, the bait. Theo, the strategist. Theo, the ally.

Theo, the one given a home.

“I’m— why are you doing this for me?”

They all have that look on that face again, the one that says they have so much they need to say but can’t find the words.

Mason finally says. “You’re Theo. You’re… you matter. You’re our friend.”

“Friend.” He repeats, keeping his voice and face as impassive as he can, even as the heart in his chest picks up speed, something he cannot control right now. “I’m… your friend.”

“Of course you are. What else would you be?” Mason asks carefully, three pairs of eyes watching him closely, another two looking anywhere but at him.

“Not… not that.”

Trust was something he had wanted without knowing. Being an ally was something that fit with all that he was, a temporary position that he filled as required. But… friend? The concept made no sense with all that he’d done. It had never passed through his mind, never.

The trio look at each other again, as if silently deciding how to best approach this.

“Well,” Mason begins, keeping his tone light and jovial, “Too bad.”

“Too bad?”

“You’re stuck with us now. We choose you as our friend.”

“Like Pokémon!” Corey chirps, also trying desperately to be cheerful.

Only Liam remains quiet, blue eyes searching Theo’s face so carefully. But they all smell nervous. Was it… was it all a trick? Was he under some sort of strange, fantastical siren power? There was no world in which this could be real.

“But I’m… I’m Theo.”

“Yeah, we know who—”

“And I did terrible things to you, to all of you!” It bursts out of him, an anger hiding all the desperation he never wanted them to see.

He looks at each of them in turn, starting with Corey. “I forced you to fight by my side, threatened you every chance I got. I killed Josh and Tracey — I could have killed you!”

He turns to Mason. “I forced Liam into showing you his werewolf side, throwing you into this fucked up world. You were the Beast, and I didn’t care that it was you — I would have killed you without a second thought, all for power.”

And then finally, Liam. “I manipulated you into killing Scott. And then, when you had his powers, I would have killed you, would have taken that power for myself.”

Theo’s gaze darts across the room in haphazard, uncontrollable movement. “And you still want to trust me? Call me your ally? Your friend?! How could you just forget?! How can you act like nothing happened?”

Liam’s eyes flash dangerously, and the scent of anger fills the air.

Yes, Theo thinks to himself, vindicated. This is expected. This is what he knows. This is familiar. Understandable. Sense.

He puts his impenetrable mask back on his face, ready to take it all.

“And what about everything else you did?” Liam demands, “By your logic, we’re supposed to act like all of that didn’t happen, too. The Ghost Riders, the Anuk-Ite, the Hunters. Every time you stopped me from killing him.” The beta gestures towards Nolan, who stares at them from the kitchen, wide-eyed.

Theo doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know if he can even find words. But he tries anyway. “That’s n—"

“When you told me how long it takes to heal from siren wounds, even though it did nothing for you. When you remembered, even while that siren in Mexico was going crazy, that we’d need evidence to not get tortured by the Calaveras. When you pushed me aside so the red-haired siren would hurt you instead. When you did the same for Mason and Corey with the black-haired one.”

“But y—”

“I am not fucking done!” Liam practically roars, eyes actually turning golden yellow. No one else tries to interrupt or even seems to think of it, as if they know this is between them, that only Liam can make sense of this for Theo.

“How about when, after we were all poisoned, you absorbed all our pain despite you being so weak from your own poisoning? How about when you came up with the supernatural blood detecting test, working for nights on it, sacrificing your sleep just to help us?”

Theo opens his mouth again, but Liam barrels on.

“Yeah, Deaton told me about that. How you insisted there had to be a way, because of some, I don’t know, chemical changes in supernatural blood or whatever, and you kept going even when you kept failing. And I know what you’re gonna say — you’re gonna go back to the whole ‘doing this to save your own skin’ crap. I may not be as smart as you or Mason, but even I can see that hasn’t been true for a long time. And you fucking told us it wasn’t true.”

Everyone else in the room nods.

“You said it yourself — you want to help. You don’t want your future to be the same as your history. So you help. But you’ve been doing more than that. So much more. It isn’t just about helping anymore.”

Theo knows this, he does. He’d been thinking about it all for so long now, coming to his own realisations about being better, wanting to be a part of something good. But that was just him. An internal shift. Not all catalysts provoke a reaction. If a tree falls in a forest, but no one is there to hear it, it’s just a theoretical tree. Schrödinger's Tree.

He had, against his own will, wanted trust. He got it. He even got the title of ‘ally’. But this, this is too much.

“I don’t—” Theo’s voice is shaky, soft. Trembling, even as he tries to hide it, to keep his face blank. He is trembling. He’s not sure if it’s all that Liam was saying, all that the puppy pack were agreeing with or simply just the effects of being cursed and still healing. But his knees buckle.

Instantly, Liam is there, holding him up, pushing him into a chair. He’s rough about it, but he’s still there. He’s always there.

He stands over the chimera, still glaring at him, still angry. But it’s not all anger. There’s desperation in the lines of his face, in the way he holds his body stiffly, as if he’s holding himself back.

“You are not bait. You are not expendable. You are not someone we call and expect to come like some dog on a leash. You’re not just an ally. You’re Theo.”

Exactly. He is Inconsequential.

“You care. And so do we. You’re our friend. You matter to us.”

Consequential?

The mask is gone then, wiped from Theo’s face, a face that has gone slack, jaw hanging open.

And silence. All around Theo, and in his head. It’s like Alexander himself was there, slicing the Gordian Knot in half. A decisive action that solved the problem, without actually unravelling it. That whole metaphor had always confused Theo. Didn’t that just create more problems? One long thread, now a hundred, with all the more potential for disorder?

He looks up at Liam helplessly, lost completely.

“Liam,” Theo says quietly, desperately looking up into the beta’s face. “Please.”

He is supposed to be Sisyphus, the one who can only imagine himself happy. The one that finds purpose in the action of inevitable failure, in absuridity. He was meant to help them do good, and with that, he would be better. No longer faced with the darkest depths of his potential, but never absolved. Never walking in the light.

He had been content with that. It had been more than he’d ever thought possible for himself, and even accepting that had been the greatest challenge.

And now, this?

This is his mountain. This is his climb. Was this what Deaton had meant, about the unknown he would face? At the time, he’d thought it meant the unprecedented path that came with trusting the pack and having them trust him, too. The path was supposed to end there. Had Deaton meant seeing beyond that?

But Sisyphus was never meant to see past the peak of the mountain. With that came the inability to perceive possibility itself.

Help and be better, yes. But more than that? You don’t conceive the inconceivable.

Some things, the heart, the mind, the soul, knows not to even will into existence. Non cogito, ergo non sum. I don’t think, therefore I am not.

And what Theo is, is inconsequential.

“Please,” Theo repeats, tears that he cannot fight threatening to spill over. Overwhelmed, overwrought, over everything. He looks down at his bare feet. Toes buried in plush carpet instead of damp earth. “You can’t— I just—”

Liam drops to his knees, placing a hand on his shoulder, ducking his head so he can look Theo in the eyes.

“I am… built for destruction. I’m the chimera of death.” He tells the beta, willing him to see it, to believe it. “You can’t make friendship out of that.”

Liam takes a deep breath, eyes never leaving Theo’s, bright with conviction, a desperation. Emotions the chimera has seen in him before, in all those moments when faced with insurmountable odds, when the beta finds that something that keeps him going. That something worth fighting for. That something was never meant to be him.

“You know, for a nerd, you really don’t read enough.” Theo blinks, startled by the sudden change in topic. “You know the Romans, right?”

Theo nods cautiously.

“Did you know their empire was built on ruins? On everything that came before them. The Etruscans, the Greeks, the Phoenicians, the Egyptians — all the chaos and destruction of the past that fell only to be built up into something that persists today. All the building blocks of civilisation — art, language, legal systems. Hell, probably even those damn books and poems you like to quote so much.

“And if you want something more recent, consider Singapore. A tiny dot on the map, so small it’s almost an afterthought. Tossed between empires carelessly — the British, the Japanese, Malaysia. Colonised, conquered, cut off. In less than a century, they turned their abandonment into independence, a strength that makes them one of the wealthiest and most stable countries in the world.

“What I’m saying is that great things have been built on failures. On turmoil and unrest. There is wreckage here. In us, in you. In everything that we’ve been through, together or on our own. But things can’t rise without falling first. Legacies endure but grow into greater things. You chose to stay. To help. To be better, not just for us but for yourself, too. How can you even begin to think no one noticed?”

He can. He did. He had.

Liam pauses, taking heaving breaths, chest rising and falling. Theo can’t speak past the deafening silence in his head, can only look up into blue eyes that don’t leave his.

“You’re our friend. We choose this. We choose you. And you don’t get to tell us we can’t give this to you. Just like we don’t get to define your choices, you don’t get to define ours.”

And then there are no more knots to untangle, no more threads to follow, no more ‘why’s. Yet, it made no sense. Maybe it never would.

But it’s there. Impossibly within reach. Yet, a truth is not the truth until it is believed.

Liam tightens his hand on Theo’s shoulder. The chimera can do nothing except turn to look dumbly at it, at the contact.

“You’re our friend,” Liam repeats. A vow.

“You are.” Mason echoes. And when Theo looks up, he sees Corey nodding, Alec and Nolan, too.

“You deserve this,” the chameleon says, and Theo feels his legs weaken again, as though even his body knew his mind couldn’t find solid ground. “Let us be here for you.”

No doubt, no uncertainty in any of their faces. No room for questions.

“And I swear to all the gods you don’t believe in,” Liam adds, voice and hand still firm, “I will literally beat it into your head if I have to.”

Their truth was there, because they’d seen it in him. It was all real. An abstract made tangible. Schrödinger's Theo.

He is (in)consequential.

They’d given him a home. They’d given him their friendship. And damn it all, but now that it’s right in front of him, dangling like a fruit from the vines of the destroyed Gordian Knot, he wanted to take it. Tuck it away, keep it within him. All of it. All of them.

Theo looks around at the faces around him, letting impossibilities —no, not just impossibilities but concepts of non-existence— wash over him. A new reality, an unexplored realm of existence. Friends, with Mason and Corey. Friends, with Nolan and Alec. It... feels like it could fit. Maybe the edges needed sanding down, maybe they all needed to find a way to make it work, but it could. He just needed to take it.

He looks back up at Liam, the beta having never looked away, never said anything, as if he knew Theo needed the silence, the moment. Friendship with Liam. It fit. Except, it didn’t. Not entirely. Like a round peg with just the right circumference to match the square hole’s edges — it goes in, but something’s still off.

Maybe it was the fact that, save Scott, Theo had damaged Liam the most. And yet, here he was, actively, aggressively proving his trust. His regard.

They could try. No, Liam hadn’t been trying. He’s been doing. It was Theo’s turn.

So, the chimera looks up, and it’s a shaky smile that forms on his face as he tells the beta, “I think threatening to beat me into friendship is a weird thing to say.”

“Wh—”

“Kind of like a toxi-moron.”

The beta’s eyes flash again. Annoyance, amusement, and relief all at once, before they’re all gone, replaced with a kind of happiness. Maybe even hope. “I think you mean ‘you’re a moron’, because strictly speaking, that was a contradiction.”

They stay like that for a moment, just looking at each other, small smiles on their faces, eyes bright. There was no need for words.

The doorbell rings. Time to eat.

***

Dinner is supposed to be awkward, and Theo supposes it is.

He sits there, quietly staring at his plate, eating automatically, contributing nothing to the conversation. He knows he still hasn’t quite processed it, even if he’d accepted that this was real. Like an aftershock, the tremors that follow after the earth beneath you shifts. Knowing is one part of it; feeling is another.

When he’s done with his slice, another is placed on his plate. But the chatter goes on, light and casual. Mostly led by Alec, Mason, and Corey, with Nolan observing and chiming in when there’s something he wants to add. Liam doesn’t say much either, though Theo can feel the beta’s eyes constantly wandering over to him from where he sits on the chimera’s left.

Theo thinks he should feel relaxed. He is… among friends. Friends.

And yet…

“Thank you.” The words come out of him like something he couldn’t control, something that had been bubbling over and needed to burst out.

He is thankful, so grateful not just for this home, but for all of it. All of them. They have to know.

It brings the conversation around him to a grounding halt, and though he stares fixedly at the empty plate before him, he can feel all eyes on him.

Then Liam nudges him with a shoulder. “It’s all good, moron.”

“Yeah.” Theo looks up as Mason plops another slice in front of him. “Now, can you add some brains to this conversation, please? I gave you like, five opportunities to jump in with a sarcastic comment, and it all just flew over your head.”

Theo feels a small smile threaten to take over his face, and he lets it. He’s among friends. “I would, but I’m afraid my IQ might drop.”

It turns out, when you have dinner with friends, it isn’t so awkward, after all.

***

He is so full. Corey, who apparently should never be trusted with ordering food when hungry, had ordered the six of them ten pizzas. Large pizzas. And sure, werewolves had a huge appetite, but this had been overkill.

Still, when Nolan brought up the idea of dessert, Theo couldn’t turn it down. Desserts go in a different stomach, or so he heard.

Mason had brought up Theo’s previous genius ideas of pints, and Nolan and Alec were in before the human had even finished his sentence. Corey had been roped in to drive, and Liam had gone along to ensure the chameleon did not taint the ice cream selection with mint chocolate chip.

So, it was just Mason and Theo, sitting on the bay window seat on top of donated cushions, sifting through even more books that had been donated by the adults via shopping cart.

Mason wasn’t a big fiction person, but some of the books had been adapted to movies, and he’d been more than happy to tell Theo all his many opinions on them. The chimera had only half-listened, too distracted by the actual books in his hands. And the feeling of restlessness that wouldn’t go away.

It would take time, he told himself. A new equilibrium came with an acute discomfort. Inconsequential to (in)consequential. A new way to exist. But he’d get there, even if all felt like quicksand beneath his feet right now.

“Hey,” Mason says suddenly. Theo looks up at him. “You were right, you know.”

“About what?”

“Liam. He isn’t so bad with the words.”

Theo grins a small grin. “I’m usually right.”

“He’s not as good as you,” Mason continues, “Which, believe me, still pains me to admit, because now that you’re here, I’m not the wordsmith.”

The chimera cocks his head. “You were never a wordsmith.”

Mason grins back, “Oh yeah, according to you, I’m the smart one.”

“Allegedly.”

“So, who’s the wordsmith of the pack?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “No one.”

“No one?” “Come on,” Theo puts down the book in his hand, “You can’t tell me the whole pack isn’t full of dysfunctional idiots who can’t string a proper sentence together.”

“Harsh! Lydia is a certified genius.”

Theo waves a hand dismissively. “Lydia is a walking encyclopaedia. That doesn’t automatically equate to being a wordsmith.”

“But what about—”

“Didn’t Scott tell Liam, ‘we’re brothers now’ when he turned him?”

“Yes, but—”

“And didn’t Liam basically bare his fangs at Hayden when he was trying to tell her he was a werewolf?”

“True, but—”

“And, didn’t Kira fall flat on her face when she was trying to charm Liam into joining them at the lakehouse?”

Mason wags a finger. “That isn’t about being a wordsmith.”

“No, it’s a lack of grace and charm.”

“Which you think you have, on top of being the wordsmith?” Mason asks dubiously, though there’s a knowing gleam in his eyes.

“Of course, except you forgot strategic.”

“That’s an awful lot of titles for someone who just had a really hard time accepting the title ‘friend.’”

Theo can’t help it: he shifts in his seat, looking away. It seems, by definition of being friends, his guard had been lowered. Or perhaps he was still too exhausted and sore from the siren curse.

Of course, Mason catches it.

“Hey,” He says seriously. “You know we mean it, right?”

“I know, I know,” Theo grumbles, gesturing around them. “I don’t think you would have went to all this trouble if it were all some elaborate scheme. Doesn’t make sense.”

“You mean it wouldn’t be a strategic move.”

Theo shrugs. “I guess.”

“That’s… not a very healthy way of thinking.”

“It’s practical. And the only way I know how to look at most things.”

“Huh.” Mason looks like he wants to say something, but thinks the better of it, instead choosing to ask, “Have you read Plato’s Republic?”

Theo nods. “Yes, but I was more a fan of his Symposium.”

“So you know the Allegory of the Cave?”

“Of course.” He scoffs, privately a little surprised that the human did, with how he seemed to be the de facto pop culture nerd of the group. “Did you need a lecture on the broad themes of the dialogue?”

Mason rolls his eyes. “No, but I think you do.”

“Excuse me? I’ll have you know that—”

“The whole time, ” the human speaks over him, “When Liam was trying to convince you we meant it, it made me think of that story.”

Theo tilts his head, frowning as he thinks it through. It made a lot of sense. He’d accepted his own reality. No, he’d accepted many different realities since he’d come back: that he’d just be sent back eventually, that he was just some guard dog called out to act as bait or a distraction or a font of information, that he was just meant to be some ally. And now, friend.

He’d resisted any form of change against them — the unease of a new situation that Deaton had been referring to. He was the prisoner in the cave, the one stuck seeing shadows on the wall, locked into this nature of existence. And it had been Scott first, and yes, it had been the puppy pack too, but most of all, it had been Liam who was the one who had been freed, who had seen beyond the confines of Theo’s tiny universe, bringing back the truth he had beheld, hoping against hope that Theo would believe it.

“I suppose I can see that,” He finally tells Mason, who nods.

“I am the brains, after all.”

“I thought of myself more as Sisyphus, to be honest. Much more tragic.”

“In the original myth, or Camus’ take on it?”

Theo has to smile at that. Mason really was smart. He can’t imagine having this kind of conversation with Liam. Not that the beta wasn’t smart, too. What he’d brought up about history had altered Theo’s perception, after all. He wasn’t sure if anything else could have. Plus, smart as he was, he hadn’t known any of those facts.

“Both, I suppose.” He hesitates, still nervous about opening up, being exposed. But this was Mason. His friend. He should try.

“At first, I saw myself as doomed to keep failing, to keep repeating the path I took before and destroy myself in the process. But I didn’t want that: I wanted something different for myself, even if I didn’t truly believe it would change much. Rolling the boulder was me helping, wanting to do better. It made it all bearable, gave it meaning, even though I felt…”

“Alone?” Mason gently prompts him.

“Yeah. And obligated. Even though, in a way, I never actually was. But having people there isn’t exactly the same as… having friends. Being trusted.”

“Feeling like you matter.”

Theo knows what Mason is doing, trying to reinforce all that they’d said, remind him that they meant it. He’s not subtle, which is why he isn’t the wordsmith. But his efforts aren’t altogether unwelcome. Theo is still unsteady, part of him still expecting to wake up back in the preserve.

Theo nods as he answers. “And I was content with that existence. I never thought I could have that, so it never occurred to me to think there could still be more.”

“So, you just kept rolling the boulder up the mountain, never expecting to reach the peak — never considered that there were new horizons beyond it.”

“Yeah.”

Mason is silent for a while, clearly thinking it all through. Finally, he speaks. “I think there are many different things we draw from philosophy. It makes you think, see from different perspectives. Sometimes it helps us contextualise our existence, burdens, or whatever, like you did.”

Theo blinks. He’s familiar with the base purpose of philosophy, and he knows Mason knows that. “Okay, and?”

“But philosophy is fundamentally about thought — what you take from it when you read those things. And that often means we have to push ourselves to think beyond what is presented to us. All philosophers build on the work of others, as I’m sure you know, literature nerd.”

“You know, I’ve never considered that much of an insult, much less from you.”

The human ignores him, continuing with his point. “What I’m trying to say is that there can be more to these stories than what you’ve read. Life and living aren’t words on a page. The boulder isn’t the point anymore. You’ve gone beyond the known and familiar to things you never thought you deserved. It’s time to live that part of it.”

“I don’t—”

Mason points a finger at him. “Don’t tell me you don’t deserve it, or I will call Liam.”

“Okay, okay!” Theo raises his hands in supplication, not ready for another lecture from the beta. “It’s just all still.. settling, I guess.”

Mason nods. “It’s new. Not just new but completely unexpected. And overwhelming.”

Theo smiles wryly. “Yeah, that’s exactly it.”

Mason nods. “Baby steps. For today, accept that you’re our friend. And tomorrow, be our friend.”

Theo feels his brows furrow again, considering Mason’s words.

“What?” The human asks.

“I don’t really… know how to do that.”

Mason shrugs nonchalantly, starting to sift through the books again. “What you’ve been doing all along.”

“Oh.”

He had been blinking in the light. Now, it was time for the glare to fade, to see what truly lay beyond the realm of possibility.

Still, there was something he needed to know.

“Mason.”

“Yeah?”

“What changed for you?”

The human looks up, face serious. He knew what Theo meant.

“I think I knew for a while that you wanted to help, even back with the Ghost Riders. I never understood why, but you never offered an explanation, and I suppose I didn’t much care, not that it would have mattered since you didn’t know why, either. But you kept coming back to help. And like Liam said, you kept doing more and more.”

Mason pauses, fiddling with the chain on his chest thoughtfully. “But I think it was at the lake.”

“The lake?”

“Yeah. Look, I don’t like poetry. I know how to analyse it, break it down into language techniques and whatever, enough to get an A in class. But I don’t understand the appeal of it. It sounds stupid, but… someone who can distil the human experience from the words of others, can find something beautiful and meaningful in that… I guess it made me realise there was more depth to you, something we never saw before.

“After we left, I looked up that Wordsworth poem you mentioned, Tintern Abbey. I admit, I had to look it up on freaking SparkNotes —that’s how much I hate poetry— but I realised that it’s about healing, about discovering something that makes you recognise that there is something better in this world, and letting it bring you some measure of peace. And I don’t know if you even realised it then, but I think you’ve wanted that kind of better for yourself for a long time. It’s been in everything you say and do, we just needed to discover it for ourselves.” Here, Mason gives him a wry smile. “I suppose in some weird way that makes us Wordsworth’s sister. But yeah, it was that day at the lake.”

Theo’s not sure what to make of this; had thought it would have had to have been something earth-shattering to have shifted Mason’s perspective. Instead, it had been as simple as poetry. As simple as sharing words that weren’t his, but that he kept housed within himself. Syllables and lines, fragments and rhymes — all the different ways to see the world.

“Besides,” the human continues, “It also didn’t hurt that you literally offered yourself up as a sacrifice to the siren to save Corey and me.”

Theo shrugs uncomfortably. “It’s not like you two could have defended yourselves.”

“That doesn’t mean you had to put yourself in danger for us.”

“Of course it does!”

Mason points a finger at him, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “Exactly. What do you think that says about you?”

Oh.

“And don’t forget, I know about all the times you saved Liam, too. Even before the sirens. It all just adds up, now.”

“To what?”

“To here, where we are now.” Mason smiles at him, offering his hand. “My friend.”

“Friend,” Theo echoes as he takes Mason’s hand.

“And maybe,” Mason adds pointedly, still gripping the chimera’s hand, “At some juncture, you can admit that we are your friends, too? Saying it might help with believing.”

It takes a moment. A long moment. “You are all… my friends.” He pauses. “I’m your friend.”

Mason nods at him once, seriously, then releases his hand. And that’s that.

“Great.” The human turns back to the book on his lap. “Now, we’ve officially raised the IQ of the group.”

Theo narrows his eyes. There’s something in Mason’s tone that makes him suspicious. “You have an ulterior motive.”

Mason looks back up, staring at him innocently. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Except his eyes don’t quite meet Theo’s he says the words.

Theo narrows his eyes even more. Mason doesn’t even have the decency to look uncomfortable. “Just how much do you tutor them?”

“Oh, dude.” Mason shakes his head. “You do not want to know.”

Theo pauses, a small smirk forming on his face. Mason looks up at him, suddenly suspicious of the chimera’s silence.

“What?”

“I’ll teach you about poetry. Get you up to an A-plus. Maybe even some extra credit.”

Mason groans. “God, why did I tell you all that?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you. Since you’re already familiar with the Romantics through Wordsworth, I suggest we start with the prelude to Lyrical Ballads, which he wrote with his contemporary and friend, Coleridge, who incidentally—”

“I take it back. I don’t wanna be friends anymore.”

“—It truly kickstarted a new age not just for the later Romantic poets, but also for English poetry in general. Without them, we might not have Tennyson, Emerson — even the psychotherapist Carl Jung! Or perhaps we could begin with William Blake, the earliest of the Romantics, and arguably the most interesting. Why, you ask? You see, his style and worldview were markedly different from—”

“I hope you know I have never hated you more.”

It takes fifteen minutes for the rest to come back with ice cream. Theo only shuts up when Liam shoves a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

Chapter Text

Theo is beyond exhausted. He can’t fight it anymore, all the events of the day weighing on him. The physical destruction, the emotional upheaval. So many aspects of him are being rebuilt, and it is exhausting. Healing is exhausting.

Where their pizza dinner was spent on lighthearted topics, dessert conversation circled back to the sirens, to everything that had happened. Theo didn’t say much, physically couldn’t, and so saved his energy for the necessary parts.

“We are not calling them zombies!” Liam declares on a mouthful of ice cream, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“But aren’t they?” Corey asks.

“Zombies are like, created from viruses or whatever. This is the sirens — they have their souls, so they can control their empty bodies. And they probably used the lake to do it, which is why Theo said it felt weird. It’s not the same as frickin’ zombies.”

Mason taps a spoon thoughtfully against his lips. “I suppose that makes it more of a hive mind situation, but the bodies were dead. Their souls had already been acquired by the sirens.”

“A zombie hive?” Nolan proposes, “With the sirens as the queen bee?”

“So, we’re going to call them bees now?” Liam shoots the mini-human a disdainful look.

“Zom-bees?” Alec suggests, trying and failing to hide a stupid smile.

“It’s just a name,” Corey points out, clearly electing to ignore the terrible pun, like everyone else had. “It doesn’t matter what we call them, even if it is zom—”

“We are not calling them zombies!” Liam insists through gritted teeth, almost growling at them.

It makes Theo slant his eyes over to the beta in question.

“Zombies creep me out,” Liam admits, looking down into his bowl of ice cream.

“You’re a fearsome werewolf, probably the strongest of all of us here,” Alec says incredulously, “And you’re afraid of zombies?”

“They’re creepy! Like, you lose all control of your mind and then your body, even when you’re dead? It’s just… it’s terrifying.”

Well, when he put it like that.

“Okay, okay. We’ll just call them the bodies then.” Mason says soothingly, patting his best friend on the shoulder. “But the sirens being able to reanimate the bodies gives us an idea of why they’re targeting supernaturals. Even explains why they took the joggers in the first place.”

Theo nods in understanding, while everyone else looks lost.

Alec questions, “It does?”

“The joggers were fighters,” Theo explains, from where he sits on the couch, his bowl of melting ice cream abandoned on the coffee table, his voice husky with exhaustion. “And supernaturals are strong.”

“Exactly,” Mason agrees. “And that woman, she could still transform while, uh… dead. And she retained her strength.”

“So, what?” Alec asks, “The sirens are building up an army of zom— extra strong bodies?”

“Yeah. That’s probably why those specific joggers were targeted — they were the strongest people around in the preserve that night.”

“How would they know that, though?” Corey frowns. “Do you think they were stalking everyone in town before they sang their songs at the lake that night?”

Theo shrugs, the motion sluggish. “They could have, but it’s unlikely given that there are only two of them.”

Theo ignores it as Liam fixes him with a narrowed, watchful gaze.

“Maybe it’s their song,” Mason theorises. “Maybe the type of song they sing attracts a specific type of person, not just everyone in the vicinity. Although that’s probably still possible for them to do. Theo,” The human turns to the chimera. “You said you heard two different songs, right?”

Theo nods. “The second song, the one that got the joggers, is called an Allure, according to Deaton. Probably the one they sing to attract their souls, or something.” The long sentence leaves him a little breathless.

“But what about the bodies?” Nolan reminds them. “Why do they need them?”

“Power.” Theo grunts.

“Power?”

“They drown souls to gain power in their own abilities. That’s intrinsic. The bodies give them additional and external power.” Everyone stares at the chimera as he lets his head loll on the back of the sofa, trying not to close his eyes. “Tools. The bodies are tools. Good for inflicting damage while serving double duty as collateral damage.”

No one says anything.

Theo forces his head up to look at them. “As the villain of this group, that’s how I would see it.”

“Former villain,” Corey reminds him, throwing a spoon at his cheek.

“Ow.” Theo levels a heatless glare at his fellow chimera before tossing the spoon back, hitting him square on his forehead. Theo lets his hand fall heavily back onto the sofa. “Semantics. But I’m right. Question is, why do they need that kind of power when they already have the souls and the lake?”

While everyone contemplates his words, the chimera takes small, shallow breaths, not wanting to draw their attention to have worn out he was.

“You need to sleep,” Liam says, suddenly appearing in front of Theo on the couch.

Damn. “I’m fine. This is important.”

“So is healing.”

“I am healing.”

“You were literally on the brink of death from being boiled from the inside out. That’s gonna take days to heal.”

“Every part of your body is reconstituting itself,” Mason adds. “Liam’s right — you should sleep. We’ll discuss this another day.”

Liam reaches a hand out to Theo, who slaps his arm away, though the gesture is less impactful than he’d hoped, considering how his arm sluggishly flops back onto the sofa. He turns to look at the human, opening his mouth, only to be interrupted.

“Relax,” Mason says, “We’ll keep you updated.”

Theo squints suspiciously.

Corey rolls his eyes. “And we won’t do anything without you.”

“Good. Gotta make sure the strategy is sound.”

“Go to sleep, Theo. We’ll clean up here.”

“What kind of host would I be to let the first-ever guests in my new place clean up?”

“A severely injured, exhausted one who has done everything he can tonight.” Liam declares, heaving Theo up from the couch, pulling his arm over his shoulder. He doesn’t let the chimera protest, dragging him down the hallway to his bedroom.

“Mason,” Theo calls out as he lets Liam pull him away, “You know at least one reason why they need the bodies, right?”

“Yeah. Distractions.”

“Knew you were the smart one,” Theo mumbles as Liam impatiently yanks him away.

They get to his room, and Liam pushes the chimera to sit on the bed, then pulls away the bed covers, pointing at the exposed mattress. “Get in.”

Theo doesn’t fight it, letting himself look as pathetic as he felt as he crawls across the bed, pulling the covers up over himself, up to his chin and closing his eyes. When he doesn’t hear the beta move, he opens one eye to find Liam frowning down at him.

“What?”

“You groaned.”

“From comfort. It’s a nice soft bed.”

Liam narrows his eyes again, hearing the lie emanating from Theo’s chest that he’s too tired to hide. The beta’s hand shoots out, lightning quick, pulling back the covers to expose the chimera’s forearm, grabbing it before Theo can react. Not that he could have, he’s so tired. Black veins flow from Theo to Liam, the beta hissing as he feels it.

“You should have said something!”

“I’m fine, it’s bearable.” But even as he says it, he can’t help but sigh and close his eyes as the throbbing burn he’s been feeling all night starts to ebb away, turning into a soothing coolness that envelops his body. He hopes they all leave by the time the nightmares come, but that’s all he can do: hope. Sleep will not abate its grip tonight. Probably for many nights, but at least he’ll be alone and won’t have to force himself awake.

“You still should have said something.” Liam lets go, his breathing slightly laboured from the pain he’d absorbed.

“Like you said, I’m healing,” Theo mumbles. “It’ll take a while.”

He feels the covers being pulled over him, a hand that draws back, only to approach again, tucking the blanket around his prone body in stilted, awkward movements. A strange sort of ease wraps itself around Theo, tinted with a stray sense of nostalgia. Like something he had once wanted but never acknowledged; something he once knew, but didn’t quite belong.

Theo hears Liam’s footsteps as he turns to leave. He remembers something he’d forgotten to tell them.

“Liam.”

“Yeah?” The beta’s voice is gruff, uncomfortable.

“The sirens.”

“They’re not going to get you here.”

“That’s not—” Theo is cut off by an involuntary yawn. “—What I meant.”

“What, then?”

“At the school.” The darkness is getting too hard to fight.

“What about it?”

“I was with Lyra. And Mara. They were the last people I saw. Before…”

There’s a beat of silence. “Just them?”

“I think I saw two other girls on the potentials list at the library, too. I dunno.”

“But Mara and Lyra?”

“Most likely.” Theo yawns again.

Another silence, longer this time.

“I’m sorry.”

The words are whispered, barely audible. By then, Theo is more than halfway gone. The last thing he remembers thinking is ‘What would Liam have to be sorry for?’

***

The nightmares come, as they always do. It would have been too much to ask of fate to live through a nightmare and still be free of them in the night.

What else can he dream of but other paths? Him turning back to the darkness. The pack throwing him aside. Liam, eyes flashing with hatred and rage, vowing to return Theo from whence he came.

They didn’t feel like dreams. They felt like a reality that should have come to pass. Maybe they had. Maybe this was real, and everything that had happened before was the dream. Even in sleep, Theo wants to accept this — it made more sense than everything else.

And then Tara comes, crawling out of the river, pulling him down into the waters, whispering in his ear, ‘The depths remember.’

This made sense, too. Calling his name, always, she calls his name. Theo…

“Theo!”

Hands gripping his shoulders, plunging him down into the cold. Theo…

“Theo, wake up!”

He doesn’t fight it. Let’s her cold, bony fingers wrap around his wrists. Theo…

Theo clenches his fists to keep from crying out, to not be scared. He didn’t deserve to be afraid. Theo…

“Wake up! Theo!”

Hazel-green eyes burst open, flashing gold for one quick second as they settle on the sight before them: Liam, pupils blown wide with worry, hands wrapped around his wrists so tightly they would leave a bruise.

“Theo?”

The chimera blinks once. Then he yanks himself out of the beta’s grip, shooting back across the bed so quickly and so hard, he bangs his head against the headrest. But the pain clears his head.

“Liam?”

“You’re awake.” The beta says on an exhale, relief colouring his words.

“I… what happened?”

“You were… having a nightmare.”

Theo looks around. He’s in a room. A bedroom. His bedroom. It had all been real.

He lets out a shaky breath as he lets it all sink in again. He’d gone to sleep believing he had friends, a home. And they were all still here. It was real. This wasn’t a nightmare, wasn’t a dream. This is his life. For now.

“Theo?” The chimera’s eyes find Liam’s, blue eyes shining in concern.

Liam was real. His… friend.

“It was just a dream.” Theo finally says, looking away, down at his hands, covered in blood like they were almost every night.

“You mean it was a nightmare.”

He tries to make his tone cocky, arrogant. “What are nightmares, if not dreams?” It comes out weary.

Liam looks at him for one long moment before stalking out of the room. Theo continues gazing down at his hands, waiting for them to heal like they normally do. It never took long. But this time, they don’t. He’s almost thankful for it, evidence that everything he’d dreamed was simply that — dreams.

“They’re not healing.” Theo looks up, Liam’s back at the doorway of his room with a bowl of water and a washcloth.

“Because the rest of me is still healing.”

Liam doesn’t say anything, just approaches the bed. He pauses next to Theo, who watches the beta carefully, not sure what to make of the situation. Then he sits, right next to Theo, reaching for his hand.

He’d spent the whole night questioning ‘why’, only to find an answer that still doesn’t make perfect sense to him, even if it was real. He doesn’t think he can deal with another ‘why’ right now. So instead, Theo watches silently, focusing on the feel of it on his skin, as Liam starts cleaning off the blood from his hands. Washing them clean.

The beta doesn’t make a move to stand when he’s done, simply sits there looking down at Theo’s hands still held in his own. The chimera’s hands twitch.

Liam starts and pulls away, standing abruptly with bowl and cloth in hand.

“I’ll, um, take care of this.” He turns and heads for the door.

“What time is it?” Theo finds himself asking. There’s no clock in the bedroom, and his phone was somewhere in the apartment. His apartment.

“Just past four.”

“In the morning?” It had been barely eleven when Theo had been forced to bed.

“Yeah,” Liam says quietly from the doorway, not turning to look around at the chimera.

“Is everyone else still here?” Theo strains his ears as he asks, searching for more heartbeats, but there are none.

“No.”

“Then, why are you still here?”

Liam looks over his shoulder, his body a silhouette against the light that spills in from the hallway, his face in shadow. “I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“But there’s a security system. You said the sirens wouldn’t get me here.”

“I know.” And then he leaves the room. Theo can hear the sounds of splashing water from the kitchen. He’s still tired, still wants to sleep. He needs to, probably for a few days, just to heal from all the damage.

But Liam’s still here.

The sounds of running water cut off, but Theo doesn’t hear Liam move. Not for the bedroom, not for the front door. Like he’s just standing still in front of the kitchen sink.

Without thinking, he stands, padding on bare feet out of his bedroom to the kitchen. Liam turns as he hears him, face unreadable.

“You should go back to sleep.”

“You should go home.”

“I’m not tired.”

Theo raises an eyebrow at him while leaning against a wall. He hopes he looks supercilious, but knows it just comes off as tired.

“I had a nap.”

Theo looks to the living room, where there is a spare pillow on the sofa, along with a blanket. Theo’s blanket, actually, the one he’d used while sleeping in the truck. There’s a line of thought to pursue there, but again, he doesn’t feel like he can question it right now.

The two boys stand there, eyes flitting to each other’s faces, before darting away again. A peculiar kind of stand-off.

Finally, Liam picks up the kettle. “Tea?”

“Tea?”

He shrugs as he heads to the sink, filling the vessel. “My mum always makes tea to calm me down when I’m in a… mood.”

“Does it help?”

The beta’s lips twist as he answers. “No. But it doesn’t hurt.”

“Tea, then.”

Theo pulls himself over to the counter, leaning against it as they both wait for the water to boil, Liam fingering a bunch of tea bags in a familiar-looking box.

“Is that Peter’s?”

“Yep.”

Liam pulls out two green bags. Peppermint, Theo notes. No caffeine.

The silence is thick as Liam fills the mugs that he dug up from a cupboard, then, by some unspoken agreement, both head to the sofa, mugs in hand. They each pick an end to sit on, the physical distance between them instigating an odd sensation within the chimera, one he’s too tired to pick apart. They were always together — sitting next to each other during dinner, running after sirens, in the truck.

“You don’t have to talk about it.” Liam finally says, putting his legs up on the coffee table, tossing the blanket over them.

Theo doesn’t have to ask. He knows the beta means the nightmares.

“How did you know? Did I— was I—” He’s not sure what to ask.

Liam’s words are carefully measured. “You were pretty silent for most of the night. I woke up when I heard you groaning, and I thought it was the pain again.”

“But?”

“I smelled blood.”

“Oh.” Theo takes a sip. The warmth of it is comforting, a welcome contrast to the coolness of the mint.

A beat. Liam takes a sip. “We should have known.”

Theo knows he isn’t talking about the nightmares. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“We should have… cared more, what happened to you after you came back out.”

Theo frowns at that, turning his gaze over to the beta, who determinedly stares straight ahead at the space on the wall where a television would be, face impassive. “Why would you have cared? No one did. And I wouldn’t have if I were you, either.”

“You were homeless, Theo.”

“And it was fine.”

Liam’s head twists over to Theo’s so fast, he hears a crack. But his face remains blank.

“I’m not saying it was ideal; it just was. I made it work.”

“But you shouldn’t have had to.” A small crack in Liam’s façade appears as he says it, the words still wooden, face still blank, but Theo can see it in his eyes: guilt.

“Liam,” He begins carefully, “You know I don’t blame you, right?”

“But you should! We should have—”

“I didn’t want you to know. I was careful about that.”

“We still should have—”

“Don’t forget,” Theo interjects, lips forming a wry smile, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“We should have cared.” Liam bites out, a small expression of anger forming on his face. “After everything, we should—”

“Exactly. After everything, why would you have cared? I never expected you to, or anyone else, for that matter.”

“Not that part of it,” The beta’s nostrils flare as he says it, trying to maintain some measure of control. “I can… excuse us for not caring at the beginning. Maybe. But when you started to show how much you changed, we should have cared then.”

“Like I said, I’m very good at keeping secrets.” Theo takes another sip. “Besides, we all make assumptions about basic things like where someone lives. It’s not something we think to question.”

“I’m sorry.” The admission startles Theo, who nearly drops his cup.

“What the fuck for?”

“Not caring,” Liam’s eyes bore into Theo’s, making him shift uncomfortably on the sofa. “Not showing you that you matter.”

They stare at each other again, both their hearts beating quickly, nervously.

“I think…” Theo clears his throat. “I think you did. I just didn’t realise it.”

“We obviously didn’t do it well enough.”

“That doesn’t—”

“But you also didn’t think you deserved it. You still don’t.”

“I… yeah.”

Liam watches him carefully, as if expecting him to deny it all again. Theo wants to, but there is all this proof before him that refutes that certainty. Two truths fighting against each other inside him. Can such contradictions ever co-exist? He doesn’t know. So, he stays silent. Not acceptance, but acknowledgement.

It seems to satisfy Liam, at least marginally. Theo knows enough of Liam’s bullheadedness to know he will be on the lookout for any signs of denial. The thought of Liam’s continued insistence feels like a call for a ceasefire to the war in his head, one that can’t be ignored even if it cannot now be obeyed.

They sip their tea quietly, letting it all lie between them. When the mugs are drained, Liam stands, holding out a hand for Theo’s cup. “You really should sleep.”

Theo starts to pass him the mug, but pauses.

“What?”

“You should go home, Liam. It’s late.”

“And what if you have another nightmare?”

“You can’t be here every night.” Theo realises his error before the words even finish leaving his mouth.

“Every night?” Liam stares down at Theo, waiting for him to either deny or confirm it.

Theo says nothing, looking back down at the tea bag.

“You didn’t sleep in the bed back in Mexico, did you?”

“No.”

Liam steps away; Theo can hear him walking back to the kitchen. He comes back with the kettle, refilling their cups. It’s an odd thing to do. Theo had basically admitted that he wasn’t going to sleep while Liam was here, not wanting to have him witness his nightmares, a state of vulnerability he did not willingly submit to. But Liam, wrapping himself in the blanket on the couch, clearly wasn’t going anywhere.

“When I was first turned,” Liam starts to say, “And there was the whole situation with the berserkers, I saw them everywhere. I didn’t have to be asleep to see them, but they were always there in my nightmares, too. It was the same for Mason with that Anuk-Ite blob thing. Hallucinations in the day, nightmares at night. It’s like we... couldn’t exist without all of them haunting us. I tried to stay up all night with Mason once, before he even knew I was a werewolf. He did the same when he had his own nightmares.”

Theo wants to point out that those were different. The berserkers and Anuk-Ite were external threats, things completely out of their control. Theo’s demons were different; intrinsic.

Instead, he asks, “What helped?”

A small grin forms on Liam’s face as he turns to look at Theo. “Killing them.” The smile fades as he takes in Theo’s face. “But you don’t dream of the sirens, do you?”

Theo shakes his head.

“Killing them was part of it. The other part, the harder part, really, was talking about it. I mean, I was just turned, and I wanted to help the pack, but I was so scared. Of myself, of this whole new world. It made me feel weak to admit it, but Scott knew. He made me talk about it. And when it was Mason’s turn, I made him talk, too. We were both just trying to prove ourselves. It sounds stupid to say something as simple as talking was tough. It was, but it also did help. Like, sharing the burden, and knowing we weren’t alone, not just in our situation but in our perception of it, I guess."

Theo looks back down at the cup in his hands. He knows what Liam is offering, but that what he’d said earlier still stands: he doesn’t have to talk about it. It’s a shift in their dynamic, one that’s been happening for weeks now, ever since Theo admitted that he was back for good. Liam was practising a patience with him, an admittedly uncharacteristic one —even now, Theo could feel the curiosity emanating from him— but a patience nonetheless. It was some sort of understanding between them that the chimera couldn’t comprehend.

He doesn’t have to say anything about the nightmares. It wasn’t relevant to the sirens, and therefore, not integral to this friendship… thing. But there was a part of him, a greedy and perhaps even masochistic need, that wanted to know what would happen if he did open up. Would Liam be horrified at the reminder of the basest part of him? Was the trust and acceptance conditional? Or would he still give Theo a place in his life?

“It’s my sister.”

“The nightmares?”

“Yeah, but not just… nightmares. I see visions of her, sometimes, like what you and Mason went through.”

“Texcoco?” Liam guesses.

“Yeah.”

“And Adora?”

“Yeah.” Kind of.

“What—” Liam hesitates. “What do you see?”

“It’s a mixture of… back then, and down there.”

“What do you mean?”

And then, the dam breaks. As if all it needed was a tiny crack, and everything would come out. Theo wonders why he’s doing this with Liam, of all people. Wouldn’t it have been easier with Deaton, who took everything in his stride and emerged with a new perspective for Theo to consider? Or maybe Mason, who could point him in the direction of a rational explanation that would make them easier to deal with. Even Corey, naturally empathetic, a ray of positivity who, even if he couldn’t make it better, would make you understand that you were never alone.

Deaton is his friend. A mentor. Mason and Corey were his friends. The titles were still new and uncomfortable, but they fit. With Liam, ‘friend’ almost seemed grating.

But somehow, telling him is easier than he expected, and he finds himself glad that it’s Liam that he’s sharing all of this with, though for the life of him, he doesn’t understand why.

He tells him about what he sees, seeing glimpses of Tara in the hospital, at the altar in front of Templo Mayor. He tells Liam about the heart going back to its rightful owner, over and over again, about how he fought it hundreds of times, and how she only paused once. He tells him of everything else he’d dreamed when he first came back, all the times he’d hurt the pack and all the other victims, all the times he’d wanted to but didn’t get the chance. Then he moves past that, telling him of all the alternative paths he now sees when he closes his eyes — his own, Deaton’s, Liam’s, the rest of the pack.

He doesn’t tell him about the ones where he relives the day he killed Tara. It’s the only one he cannot give a voice to.

They all disturb Liam, who cycles through an array of mixed emotions through it all, feelings he does nothing to hide — distress, confusion, disappointment, anger, sorrow. But he doesn’t interrupt; he lets Theo go on in as much or as little detail as he wants.

And then it’s all out. The river has crashed beyond the walls, carving out a path in the hard earth that will always bear its mark.

There’s a long silence as Liam chews on his lip, forehead scrunched in deep thought, a muscle in his jaw ticking. Theo doesn’t know how long he’d been talking, but they’d shifted positions through it, both still on the couch, but now facing each other. Liam had stretched out his legs toward Theo, his feet touching the chimera’s thighs lightly through the blanket that divided them. Theo had tucked his feet under him, alternating between that and hugging his knees, as if his body had been too restless to stay still through his monologue.

Theo sips at his tea, now cold.

“That’s… intense.” Liam finally says, and Theo chuckles with some relief. He hadn’t wanted words of comfort; it would have been too condescending, too patronising.

“Once again proving why you and Mason are best friends.”

“It is… a lot to go through.”

“Are you going to look at me with puppy dog eyes if I say I’m used to it by now?”

Liam sends a glare with just a modicum of heat his way. “A lot of it was deserved.”

Theo chuckles again, even more relieved. He didn’t need to be coddled; he knew what he had been — they both do. “I don’t disagree.”

“But I just…” Liam trails off, and Theo recognises the look on his face: the one where he has something important to say and needs to make sure he finds the right words.

The chimera waits patiently.

“I just think… dreaming about what’s happened before, I understand that, I guess. Because you’re still dealing with all that. But after all you’ve done to not just prove yourself, but better yourself, you have nightmares of things that have never come to pass. It’s… sad. Like it’s a way of punishing yourself before you commit the crime.”

Theo shrugs, not altogether bothered by the thought. “Maybe it’s my conscience keeping me in check.”

“No. No, I don’t think so.” The frown on Liam’s face gets deeper as he thinks about it. “It’s been about history for you, hasn’t it? So, if anything is supposed to keep you in check, it’s the reminders of that. But now, you dream mostly of things that you’ve never done, that we’ve never done to you.”

“There’s still a chance.” Theo feels compelled to point out. As expected, Liam gives him a withering look, knowing he’s talking about himself and not the pack. “We don’t know the future.”

“No, but I know your present. And just as history informs the future, so does the present. Besides, do you even want to do those things to us? The things you dream about?”

Theo doesn’t hesitate. “No.”

“Exactly.” Liam leans back against the sofa, as if fully confident in what he’d just said. “And we’re not gonna do those things, either.”

Different truths attempting to co-exist. In that moment, Theo remembers what Mason said, that he has to live beyond what he knew, what he expected. This is one of those instances.

“About your sister, though…”

This line of thought is something Theo does not want to pursue. He will always deserve those nightmares. The day he stops having them will be the day Theo knows something is truly wrong.

“So, that’s what happened to you? When we… sent you away with the sword?”

Oh.

He nods, unable to speak.

“We were desperate,” Liam suddenly blurts out, his face suddenly white, a rush of words spilling out in a bid to explain something that Theo did not need explained. “We didn’t know what would happen. The Skinwalkers showed Kira what to do, and they said it was some sort of prison, but there wasn’t time to understand exactly what it was. We just heard prison, and we didn’t know what else to do, and—”

“Liam, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not! We shouldn’t have—”

“You shouldn’t have anything. I remember that night in the tunnels. And I wouldn’t have stopped. Wouldn’t have given up for anything.”

Theo swallows as he admits it. He recalls it all vividly. The sting of being betrayed by Deucalion, building on the betrayals of Hayden and Corey. Losing everything he’d worked for by the tips of his fingers, yet again. A desperation and panic that overtook him as everything spiralled out of his control, everything he had worked for, gone.

“But it just— you called it hell before. And like, who were we to do that without even understanding what we were doing?”

“Just because it felt like it doesn’t mean it was. That has to make a difference, right?”

It doesn’t, Theo knows it doesn’t even as he says it, but seeing Liam so stricken by this new knowledge... He doesn’t want him to feel this way. Once, he had. Had hated them all for doing that to him. But he’d accepted it long ago, maybe in the very moment he told Tara she didn’t have to stop.

“That feels like if I accidentally hit someone with a book or something, and I tell them they shouldn’t cry because I didn’t mean it, and that it wasn’t even that hard.”

It’s a pretty wise thing for Liam to say. Just because reality exists in a specific way doesn’t mean that it couldn’t be perceived differently. But Theo didn’t want to linger on it, didn’t want to watch Liam beat himself up for something that he’d moved past.

“Liam, it doesn’t matter. It’s over now.”

“No, it’s not! Because you still have nightmares about it!”

“Dreams are supposed to be manifestations of our subconscious. If I didn’t have the dreams about Tara, or all of the nightmares, I think I wouldn’t be here right now.”

Liam's brow furrows, the chimera’s statement pausing his self-directed anger. “What do you mean?”

“Wanting to change and be better means accepting that I was a monster in the past. Back then, I didn’t care.” Theo swallows, his fingers tracing lines in the fabric of the sofa as he speaks. “You know I didn’t. That’s why you and the pack sent me there. Feeling guilty about all of it is necessary to change. Or it’d all be meaningless.”

Like Sisyphus pushing the rock without caring about what the journey really meant.

“If I were truly going to change, I would have to feel all that. And the nightmares would have come, anyway. You did the only thing you could think of to stop me. And, I don’t know. Whatever prison it was, maybe that’s why I’m… different now.”

“No,” Liam shakes his head, face and voice defiantly resolute. “It may have sparked it, but you changed because you wanted to. It would have been so easy for you to just leave Beacon Hills or say no to helping us. As long as you didn’t come after us again or go looking for power, that would have been different from your history. We would have left you alone. But you didn’t do any of that. You chose to change. You fought yourself, who you were.”

Theo lets the words wash over him. It’s not as if he hasn’t been giving himself some credit for his growth. He wanted to help. He wanted to do better — that was all progress in itself. He still believed being in that prison had pushed him to change, facing the first and worst of his demons shifting something within him. But what he hadn’t considered was that there could have been an easier way to change, one less painful, more neutral, that would still have given him freedom. Yet, he’d chosen the other.

His mind, as it often did, recalls a poem. “‘Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less travelled by.’”

“‘And that has made all the difference.’” Liam finishes for him.

Theo gives him a vaguely impressed look. “Who’s the book nerd now?”

The beta makes a face. “That’s like, basic poetry. Everyone knows that one.”

Theo shakes his head with a small laugh. “True.”

“It is, though,” Liam says insistently. “I mean, it’s true, isn’t it? You could have gone another way to reach your goal, but you chose the better way. The harder way.”

It meant something that he’d chosen to work through his history with the pack, that he hadn’t just left them all in the dust for a fresh start, an easier future. And acknowledging that began to make the two truths inside him find a better space, one he cannot yet name, that strange, liminal void between opposing concepts of worthy and unworthy. The necessary paradox that co-existence requires.

“Yeah,” Theo finally nods. “You’re right.”

“And you know, Corey said the same thing before. When you were being boiled.”

Theo looks at the beta, bemused. “That you’re right?”

“No,” He rolls his eyes, “That you wouldn’t have given up. I was— we were all so worried, so scared about what was happening to you. But Corey reminded me that you’ve always been a fighter, you always find a way.”

A thought strikes Theo. “Just like you do.” It was true, the beta had a way of barrelling past all obstacles to do what needed to be done. Like getting Theo a home, and —the harder of the two— getting him to accept it, somewhat.

Liam looks away, suddenly embarrassed. “I guess?”

“With less grace and finesse than I, of course, but—” The chimera is cut off by a pillow smacking him in the face.

“Can you just give a compliment without being backhanded about it?”

Theo makes a face. “I might gag.”

Another silence settles over them. Gentle, companionable.

Then the atmosphere changes. Liam’s thinking again. Hard.

“I can smell you. What’s up?”

“About the prison…” Liam trails off for a moment, and Theo considers the word: prison. “I don’t know if it will help,” Liam continues, “But I could talk to Noshiko about it? Maybe… maybe finding out exactly what it was would help with the nightmares?”

Theo wants to tell him no, that it didn’t matter. He didn’t believe in a god or heaven, but hell had always been real. Finding out it had been a prison didn’t change anything. Hell was a prison, too. Tara still awaited a retribution deserved. The nightmares were one part of it, and that was fine. This had long been accepted.

But Liam seemed to want to do this, wanted to help in some way. Theo recognises it: it’s guilt. It’s penance. And if this would make Liam feel better, even if it changed nothing for Theo, then that was fine, too.

“Yeah, maybe.”

They sit there, both in their heads, Liam’s feet still brushing against Theo’s thighs through the blanket. The chimera glances at the clock.

“Damn, it’s almost 7 am.”

“You should sleep.” Liam declares.

“Then you should go home.”

The beta scowls. “I may not be able to help with your nightmares every night, but I can help tonight.”

“It’s morning.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Liam…”

“Fine,” The beta snatches a book at random from off the coffee table, “If you’re not going to sleep, then neither am I.” He throws the book hard at Theo, who catches it with an audible grunt. “Read.”

Theo stares at the beta for a second before deciding that it would be too much effort to argue. He opens up the book to a random page, letting his eyes start anywhere.

“Out loud!” Liam demands.

Theo raises an eyebrow, gesturing with a hand to the pile of books before them. “Or, you could read to me.”

“Why would I, when you’re here to do it for me?” Liam leans back against the armrest of the sofa, closing his eyes and settling in.

“I’m the poor, convalescing patient.”

“Theo. Read.”

“No.”

Liam opens one eye, glaring across the sofa at the chimera. “Read!”

“No.” Theo throws the book at Liam, who snatches it before it can hit his face, hurling it right back in one smooth movement.

“You have a nicer voice.”

That makes Theo sit up, oddly pleased. “You think I have a nice voice?”

“See, an example of a compliment, no need to be all backhanded about it.”

“Okay, fine.” There’s a silly smile on Theo’s face that he can’t quite control as he starts to read, beginning from a random chapter.

“Wait,” Liam interrupts, “What book is it?”

“The Other Boleyn Girl.”

“Ugh,” The beta scoffs, “That’s full of historical inaccuracies.”

“You picked it,” The chimera points out dryly.

“Still.”

“Anyway,” Theo looks back down at the chapter, “Since we’re both not sleeping, you can contribute by correcting all the errors. Nerd.”

And so, they read. Or, Theo reads. And Liam interrupts constantly, telling Theo that in actuality, Mary Boleyn was the elder of the two sisters; that Anne Boleyn hadn’t been as conniving and nasty as the book had presented; that Mary’s affair with the king hadn’t been as significant in reality.

It’s fascinating, not just the truth of the story, but the way Liam got so excited, hands waving around, eyes flashing. Even the insults that flowed from his mouth whenever he read something particularly erroneous — he’d never thought the beta could be that creative.

But eventually, Theo doesn’t know when, he falls asleep.

It’s the best sleep he’s had in months. Yes, the nightmares were still there, but they didn’t seem to penetrate so deeply. He isn’t woken up by claws that embedded themselves in his palms, or on a gasp from something particularly horrifying. Liam had been right; talking about them had helped.

When he wakes, it’s past noon, and Liam is gone. Theo finds himself still on the sofa, spread out on his stomach, a puddle of drool on the cushion. He’s covered by the blanket, sides tucked in carefully around him. Wiping his mouth and rubbing his eyes, he spies a covered dish on the coffee table, along with a note.

‘I made you There’s pancakes.’

The pancakes are disgusting. There are bits of eggshell, they taste way too milky, and the texture of them is so inexplicably rubbery that Theo has to chew for ages.

He finishes every single bite.

***

A full recovery takes days. At first, he can barely make it from his bed to the couch without needing to stop to catch his breath. Can hardly stay up for a few hours without needing a long nap. But through it all, the exhaustion and pain slowly ebb away, and every day brings some improvement.

And he’s rarely alone. Liam, Mason, and Corey were regular fixtures in the apartment, bringing food and board games, for some reason. People visited: Alec, Nolan, even Derek and Peter, the latter dragging in a flat screen TV that Mason had summarily banned Theo from using until the human had finished his list of what to watch and the order in which to do it. He’d even confiscated the chimera’s donated DVD collection.

Theo hadn’t listened, of course, flipping through the channels to watch whatever was on whenever the urge took him. Mason, with a decidedly imperious air, declared that fine — it was all rubbish, according to him. Most of Theo’s alone time was spent sleeping or reading, anyway.

Parrish and Stilinski had visited once, both stiff and unsure. They brought with them apologies about not knowing he’d been homeless, apologies he’d waved off. They tried to explain that the other deputies hadn’t said anything, but he’d dismissed those, too. He never blamed them when he believed they simply didn’t care. Why would he blame them now when they hadn’t known? What did that all matter now? And besides, they’d donated a fair bit of things to furnish his apartment.

The Sheriff had also brought with him a suspicious-smelling meatloaf, claiming it was his late wife’s recipe, one that he and Stiles made together on special occasions. A housewarming meal, he’d called it. Parrish had blanched at the sight of it, and Theo had promptly shoved it into the fridge with thanks, claiming he would eat it later. It made its way into the trash the moment they left.

Melissa hadn’t visited, but she’d sent homemade cookies by way of Alec. Out of everything he received, this was the one thing that brought him to tears, as he sat down with the box of cookies at the bay window, looking at the simple treat in his shaking hand.

Melissa, of all of them, had the least reason to care for Theo. Sure, it was just cookies, and some second-hand furniture and electronics, but still. A mother who’d almost lost her son by his filthy hands, who somehow found it in herself to care for a lost, broken boy, just a tiny bit. It broke him a little more, not in a way that shattered him, but more like he was something damaged that needed to be cracked open for a while. A wound that you have to cut open to drain of all infection.

Liam always stayed the latest, always lingering. It took Theo swearing to call him if the nightmares got too much for the beta to leave. A repeated vow he made every night. But there were some nights Liam stayed, like he had a feeling those would be particularly bad for the chimera. There was no way of knowing — the nights that Liam stayed were the easiest nights for Theo.

He learned from his mistakes — the first night when the nightmares got too bad, he kept it to himself. Liam saw it on his face immediately when he arrived in the morning. So, Theo called. And Liam always answered. It was part of their new routine; the chimera reading from a historical fiction book and Liam providing actual facts, until one of them fell asleep. Whether they did it over the phone or on the sofa in the apartment, those were most of their nights, though they never revisited the topic of the nightmares. Liam didn’t push, and Theo didn’t want to talk about it. Some walls are necessary for survival, or at least, the preservation of all that has been built. It still surprised him that he’d even opened up in the first place. He blamed it on the exhaustion and the boiling, leaving him weaker in more ways than one.

Deaton visited often, usually after work. They talk of anything and everything, the doctor mostly updating him on things that had happened at the clinic, most of it insignificant. Of the two things that had stood out, the first was about Max, who, according to the doctor, seemed to miss Theo. It warmed him — he missed her too. The second was that the clinic had been broken into, and the security cameras disabled. Deaton had brushed it off, saying that it happened from time to time. Some drugs had been stolen, but nothing else, which pointed to it being a mundane thing. Still, Theo didn’t like it.

One night, he asks the question he’d been holding back: “You knew, didn’t you?”

To his credit, the doctor didn’t hesitate or pretend like he didn’t know what Theo was speaking of.

“I did.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” There’s no accusation in Theo’s question, only curiosity. He knew enough of the doctor to know he would have his reasons, and they would often provide perspective.

“Do you think the person you were back then would have been ready to hear it?”

Theo is shaking his head before the doctor can finish his question. “No, it was… a vulnerability I wouldn’t have admitted to back then.”

The doctor nods. “But I… I did try to help you in the ways I could.”

“I know.” And he does. It had been there in the excessive meals that Deaton constantly ordered, often with leftovers he gave to Theo. The encouragement to shower at the clinic any time he needed to. The constant reminders to keep his phone charged at the clinic, in case it died.

“I would have done more if I could have.”

“I probably wouldn’t have accepted it.”

They smile at each other.

“But Deaton, thank you. For everything. I don’t know that I would be here if it weren’t for you.”

“I think you do yourself a disservice, Theo.”

The chimera gives him a sceptical look. “You’re the one who’s helped me through so much. Without you, I’d still be getting by through stealing or worse. I wouldn’t be friends with the pack. Probably would never have started to help them.”

Deaton shakes his head. “You were helping before I even gave you a job. You would have found your way, eventually.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No, but I had faith. From the moment I first saw you in the grove, I had faith.”

Theo swallows. “I hope it won’t be misplaced.”

“It isn’t.” A statement of surety, no room for any other paths to diverge. The doctor continues on another line of thought. “How do you feel about all of this, though? I’m sure it’s a lot to take in.”

Theo looks around the apartment, and all the signs of being someone who mattered made manifest. Not just the apartment itself, but everything that filled it. The old kettle, which he’d learned had come from Parrish. The growing stack of books that Peter and Derek had expanded when they visited. Spare cushions from Melissa. An extra saucepan from the Sheriff. A pile of spare clothes from Liam, Mason, and Corey. A stack of frozen meals from Deaton. Even a sad bouquet of wilting wildflowers (they’d come that way) from Alec and Nolan.

“Like it’s finally starting to feel real,” Theo admits.

“Like it isn’t a dream or that you deserve it?”

“Both, I suppose, but also like… There can be more than one truth to my existence.”

“A new change of state is always uncomfortable,” Deaton reminds him.

“I know.”

“Good. Now, keep on the path.”

***

Six days pass before Theo finally feels well enough to go back to school. And work, but his first shift back was after school. That doesn’t stop him from racing to the clinic in his truck, wanting to make it through the doors when the clinic opens. He was going to be late for his first class, but he didn’t care.

This was vital.

Theo bursts through the doors, breathless. “Deaton! I want to—”

“The adoption papers are on the counter, ready for you to sign.”

Theo blinks, looking down at the counter he’s braced against. The doctor was right — there they were, his name, her name, his address. Their address. All he had to do was sign.

And Maxine Raeken goes home with him that very night.

Chapter Text

Lacrosse is incomprehensible to Theo. All team sports were. Theo liked games, and in the general Venn diagram of games, sports took up a fairly large portion. However, in the Venn diagram of why Theo liked games, a large section was dedicated to winning. Plus, they let him show off his intelligence. But the point of games was to win, and if you won as part of a team, it was a split victory. Teams also meant more people getting involved, which resulted in trickier dynamics and an even more convoluted path to winning. Theo liked to win. He didn’t like to share.

Also, he had never seen the point in exerting himself like that when he could be reading a book. Books exercise the mind. Exercise exercises the body — no need for rubbish like sports, and rules, and teams.

He’d seen some of the school’s lacrosse games before, a couple of times watching in the corner because he’d been curious (that had quickly disappeared once he realised how boring it was), and another because Lyra had wanted to attend as part of her mission to ‘do normal school things.’ They’d barely made it past ten minutes before Lyra declared it a mind-numbing and pointless activity.

This was probably why Theo was able to get along with her.

But now that he was friends with the puppy pack, Theo found himself being dragged by Mason and Corey to a game. He tried to remain firm, to tell them that he’d only gone looking for them because he wanted to discuss something siren-related, but the couple had been unrelenting in their quest.

‘You’re our friend, now!’ They’d said, ‘Don’t you want to support your other friends?’

‘I’m literally letting you all have dinner at my house after,’ He’d responded.

‘That doesn’t count.’ They’d replied. ‘We were coming over, anyway.’

He hadn’t been swayed. Not really. Not until Mason pointed out that the middle of a loud, cheering crowd was the best place to discuss secret plans. The human had given him a meaningful look, a call back to how Theo had made that same point to him weeks ago about the cafeteria.

So, there he was, sitting in the stands, trying to get Mason and Corey to stop cheering long enough to have a proper conversation.

“Yes, Alec! That’s right, Nolan! Smash them!” Corey screamed, making Theo wince. Again.

“That’s my best friend! That’s my best friend right there!” Mason cheered, jumping up and down so vigorously that the seat beneath Theo rattled alarmingly.

How on earth was any of this fun? And when was the last time the structural integrity of the bleachers had been tested, anyway?

“Guys,” Theo hissed, fruitlessly pulling at the hems of their t-shirts. “Can we get to the sirens so I can leave?”

“You’re not leaving, you have to stay till the game is done.” Mason sits back down heavily, panting.

“Yeah,” Corey adds, “We can’t all fit in Mason’s car.”

Theo gives them a scathing glare. “There are five of you. Of course you’ll fit.”

“It’s a tight squeeze.”

“A sedan is literally built for five people.”

“Come on,” Mason nudges him with his shoulder. “Stand up, cheer a little! Get into the spirit of things!”

Theo looks around at the crowd, at everyone screaming so rabidly that spittle flew from their lips, at food and drinks being thrown around due to unfathomable enthusiasm.

It was disgusting.

“If I ever get into the spirit of this, consider me possessed by the sirens.”

Corey pulls him up, and Theo fights it all the way. “Try it!”

They look at him, wide-eyed and hopeful, like bushy-tailed bunnies, or whatever.

“No.”

“This is a part of friendship.”

“I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that I did not choose friendship.”

“Theo, do one cheer,” Mason says, ignoring his declaration in favour of lifting one of his arms and trying to make him do a wave of all things. “And then we can talk, I promise.”

The chimera sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He looks up at the field where people were running and shouting and doing things. Fine.

Theo lifts his hands, looking more like he is surrendering than cheering. “Go team. You’re doing the thing. Do more things. Yay.”

Corey and Mason level equally disgusted looks at him.

“You never specified enthusiasm.”

“It was implied!”

“Lesson one in securing a successful deal: specify all terms upfront. Now, sit.” They do. “I have an idea.”

“And is this another idea that Liam won’t like?” Mason asks, eying him.

“Of course. Why do you think I came looking for you two and not him?”

“Theo, we can’t just—”

“I’m not saying we don’t tell him,” Theo cuts Corey off. “We will. I will. But I wanted to run it by you two first.”

“You mean you want us on your side,” Mason realises, shaking his head.

Theo grins. “See? Smart.”

“Just because I’m smart doesn’t mean I’m going to agree.”

“It’s a logical deduction. You’ve agreed with my ideas before.”

“That doesn’t mean I will this time.”

“Look,” Theo winces as someone behind them screams again. “It’s not just about having a united front or whatever. What I have in mind involves the lake and invisibility. Yes, again. And obviously, that means you two are the ones who would be undertaking the risk. So, if you aren’t up for it, then there isn’t a point in bringing it up to Liam.”

Mason frowns. “Even if it is a good plan?”

Theo doesn’t quite understand the meaning behind the human’s question. “Yeah, I mean, it’s up to you two, isn’t it?”

“Aww,” Corey smiles at Theo, “You do care about us.”

He grimaces. “Stop that, or I’m uninviting you from dinner.”

“Technically, you didn’t invite us. We invited ourselves.”

“Why do you think that strengthens your argument?!”

“Argue later,” Mason interrupts, “What’s your plan?”

“We all know we’ve been one step behind the sirens this whole time. And they haven’t been slowing down.” The couple nod; another pair of supernaturals had been taken while Theo had been out of commission. “The key to getting ahead of them is to find the younger siren.”

“The weakest link.”

“Exactly. And I have a theory that because sirens are so tied to their waters, they might have some involuntary reaction to it.”

Corey levels the chimera with a look of disbelief. “You want us to get the lake water and spray it on random girls until one reacts?”

Theo rolls his eyes. “Give me a little more credit. What I have in mind is more subtle than that, but something to that effect, yes.”

“What, then?”

“A pool party.”

“A pool party?” Mason echoes sceptically. “You want us to get enough water to fill a pool?”

“We would also end up risking everyone else who gets into the pool,” Corey points out.

“I know,” Theo snaps impatiently as a whistle sounds, a painful screech to his ears. “And we can test it before we actually do it. But I don’t think we need a whole lot of lake water to cause a reaction. We just put some of it in a pool, throw a party, get all the potential sirens inside, and see which of them reacts.”

“We can’t just throw girls into a pool!”

“It’s a pool party — throwing people in is a given.”

“Well,” Mason ponders, “It’s actually not that bad an idea, even if it’s based on a theory.”

“Theories are all we’ve had for weeks. It’s time we actually acted on one.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” Mason says, “I just want us to be clear that it might not work.”

“But it also might work,” Theo insists, “And obviously, I think it’s worth the risk. But the question is, do both of you think so, too?”

Theo knew that this plan was a desperate one. Not entirely sound, maybe not even completely strategic, but considering how the board of this game was going, they needed a zwischenzug: a way of seizing control when your opponent least expects it.

But the desperation was now personal, too. The sirens were targeting him. And sure, he had people watching his back now, but vulnerability in all forms was unsettling to Theo. Yet, he couldn’t help thinking that this restless state was perhaps more related to a certain siren suspect.

The couple look at each other, then back at the chimera.

“I think we should try,” Corey finally says. “Yeah, it might not work, but we’ve been reacting to them every step of the way. It’s time we take some action.”

“It’s going to be even more dangerous now,” Theo tells him seriously, needing them to know exactly what they’re getting into. “They have more souls.”

“We know.” Mason nods, “But like you said, it’s the only idea we have.”

“Yeah,” Corey agrees, “And I think Liam would hate it, but he also knows we don’t have any other moves right now.”

“Okay,” Theo leans back, shoulders sagging with relief, even as a knot of anxiety starts to form in his stomach. “Then we should probably go while everyone’s at school, get Alec and Nolan to keep an eye on the potentials again. There’s an assembly on Thursday, so the three of us can—”

“The three of us?” Mason questions, eyes narrowing upon the chimera.

Theo looks at them, confused. “Yeah? You two shouldn’t be going there alone without some form of defence. And offence. Four people would be too risky, even three is a lot, but since it’s necessary—”

“I think,” Corey interjects, “What Mason means is that you, of all people, should stay as far away from that lake as possible.”

Theo waves a dismissive hand, even as his stomach turns at the thought of going back there. Necessity has to stave off fear. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. We’ll be invisible, and—”

“Theo,” Corey states firmly. “Just like you worry for us, we worry for you. You are not going back to that lake, not when the sirens seem to have some sort of vendetta against you in particular.”

“That’s not—”

“And!” Mason says loudly, “We will only support this idea of yours if the trip part of it doesn’t involve you. Those are the terms of the deal.”

Theo stares at them for a long moment, a spark of something warm lighting up in his chest.

“Fine,” He finally concedes sulkily. “But you won’t get any more deal-making lessons from me, I can tell you that.”

“Eh, I think I’ll be alright. I’m going to steal your copy of The Art of War later,” Mason tells him with a grin. “Knowing you, it’s probably well-annotated with all your thoughts and schemes.”

The chimera rolls his eyes again. “Okay, then all we need is a place to hold this party. One with a pool.”

“I have a pool.” Corey chirps.

“You do?”

“Yeah. And my family is forever travelling. They won’t be around and they won’t care about a party.”

Huh. Everything was falling into place. It almost seemed like it would actually work. Or was it all too easy? No, they were being as smart as they could about this. A necessary, calculated risk; a gambit.

“Then I guess all we have to do is convince Liam,” Mason says.

“Actually, there’s more.” The couple look at Theo expectantly. “The sirens will know if you disturb their water. If we do this right, the potentials will be at the assembly, so whoever’s left behind at school should keep an eye on them. They might react, and we might get an answer right there and then. We won’t know where the mother siren will be, so drive right up to the lake this time, so you can get out of there as quickly as possible.

“And lastly, we need some sort of contraption to allow you to collect the water without actually touching the lake and while remaining invisible. I don’t know what touching the water will do, but after what happened to me…”

Theo trails off, closing his eyes with a shudder as he recalls the pain of being boiled from the inside out, and the onslaught of nightmares that had come with it. When the couple remains silent, he opens his eyes only to find them staring at him with their mouths agape.

“What?”

“You just… came up with all of that?” Corey asks dumbly.

“I can’t tell you how good it is to finally have someone on our side who sees the sense in actually having a plan instead of rushing in like fools,” Mason declares, looking at Theo with what looked like awe.

Theo stares back at them. “How are you all still alive?” is what he finally says.

“I ask myself that all the time.” The human tells him.

“Anyway,” Corey says, “About the contraption, I think Nolan can help with that.”

“He can?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty good with his hands. Have you seen those things he makes in shop class? He once made this—”

Corey is cut off as a sickening crack cuts through the night.

All of the trio’s heads snap towards the field, hearts pounding as they all hope it isn’t one of their friends.

It isn’t — it’s someone from the opposing team, lying prone on the ground with their leg folded behind them in what is no natural position.

There’s an eerie moment of silence as everyone gathered takes in the sight.

Then the lacrosse player screams.

And Theo is pulled into another vision.

———

“Jonathan!” His mother is screaming, running from the kitchen to the stairs, where his father is lying, leg bent behind him, groaning through gritted teeth. “Jon! Oh god, what happened?!”

“The stairs— stepped on something—”

Theo, standing in the doorway of the living room, watches as his toy skateboard slides across the floor, coming to a stop at his feet.

His mother looks over at him, her eyes widening as she puts the pieces together.

“Theo! What did we tell you? Don’t—”

“Liz,” His father groans again, trying to move his leg.

Both Theo and his mother turn back to his father, and now they can see the blood. And sticking out sharp through the skin, bone.

Theo gasps, taking a step back, terrified by the sight, the discordant, grotesque tableau. It was his fault.

“Hospital, I have to call the—”

“No, no, we’ll drive. It’s too expensi—”

“Jon, you are—”

“It’s fine, it’s just my leg. I didn’t hit my head. But fuck, it hurts. Let’s just take the car.”

His dad, normally so careful with his words around Theo, cursing. Somehow, that scares him even more, tears welling up in his eyes as a jumble of emotions wrap themselves in a stranglehold around him.

“Yes, okay, you’re right. Can you—”

Their words are lost to Theo, little five-year-old Theo, who stands there, watching his father, the man he literally looked up to, who had the strength to carry both him and his sister under each arm, swinging them until they got dizzy, now bleeding and crying out in pain. His mother helps him up, stumbling against the weight.

Theo takes a step forward. He wants to help, he wants to say he’s sorry, that he didn’t mean for it to happen, it was an accident, and he’d never leave his toys out again. He’d never skate again, he would throw his board away, and never, ever, ever look at another—

“Theo.”

His mother’s strained voice startles him back to the present.

“I have to take daddy to the hospital. Can you run over to Stiles’ house? Tell Mrs. Stilinski I’ll call and explain later.”

Theo shakes his head, no. He wants to go with them. It’s his fault. His daddy is in pain. And it’s because of him.

“What about Tara?” His dad asks.

“She’s supposed to get a ride back with Mrs. Jones. I’ll get her to drop her off at the Stilinskis’ too.” His mother glances back at her son. “Theo, did you hear me?”

“It’s going to be okay, son.” His dad says in as soothing a voice as he can manage, only it’s not soothing at all. It’s pained, and his face is pained, and there’s blood and there’s bone—

“Go on, Theo.” His mother tells him again, voice tight.

He shakes his head again, the tears now coming freely and heavily.

“Theo, don’t—”

“No!” He cries out, “I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Daddy, I’m sorry! I didn’t—”

“Theo!” His mum snaps, her normally patient mien replaced with anger. “Just do what I say!”

Theo takes one step backwards, then another. Eyes unable to stop staring at what he’d done.

“Theo!” And now she’s shouting at him. It’s all his fault. He did this.

“It’s going to be—”

But Theo doesn’t hear what his dad has to say. He’s gone.

He runs without any destination in mind, sobbing desperately. He ends up at the nearby park, where he and his family spent so many afternoons. He curls up by the pond where three turtles swim, blissfully unaware of the shaking, crying child that sits by their bank.

Later, when he finally makes it to the Stilinskis’ house, he finds that Tara isn’t there. She’d insisted on going to the hospital. And their parents let her. But not him.

***

He only gets in the way.

Theo wants to be helpful as his dad is recovering, but nothing he does is right. When his dad was thirsty, he ran to grab a can of soda, only to trip over his feet and end up tumbling onto his dad’s broken leg. He had to go back to the hospital again. Theo stayed home. Tara went with their parents.

Mum hadn’t been able to take care of the garden as much as she used to. So, Theo does it for her, pulling up all the weeds, plucking all the leaves from the herbs so she could use them for cooking. But he’d done it all wrong, pulling up the tomato plants and harvesting leaves that were too young. She is tired from work, from shuttling kids to school and classes, being the most capable pair of legs in the house. She yells.

Dad doesn’t read to him at night anymore. He’s been too tired, trying to get back on his feet while still maintaining a presence at his office. Theo has to be the man of the house now. So one day, he sneaks away to find a book to read to his dad. He finds the perfect one, called The Giving Tree. The pictures are cute. He takes it with him. But dad yells at him — he’d stolen it, and now mum had to take him back to the library to return it. Another unplanned, unnecessary trip that takes her away from everything that is more important. More consequential.

Tara is older. Almost nine now. She helps mum around the house. She brings dad everything he needs. She doesn’t complain when they have to miss a few of her basketball practices.

Theo learns to stay out of the way. It’s all his fault. And he’s alone.

———

“Theo? Theo!”

The chimera blinks, the real world coming back into focus, the images disappearing, leaving behind only an oily residue of sorrow and shame, guilt and loneliness.

Corey is shaking him, face white with worry, Mason standing behind him, a hand on his head.

“Corey?” Theo mumbles.

“You’re back.”

Theo looks around; they’re in the locker room, and he’s slumped onto a bench. Why is he so cold? Why is he shaking?

“I… what happened?”

The couple exchange anxious glances.

“You started staring off into space, like you were seeing something no one else could.” Mason starts to explain in a nervous voice, brows furrowed. “We kept calling your name, shaking you, but you didn’t hear us. Didn’t even register our presence. And suddenly, you just collapsed. It’s like you suddenly fell asleep and you were… dreaming.”

“Dreaming?”

“Yeah,” Mason nods. “Your eyes were closed and you were… muttering.”

“What was I saying?”

Mason hesitates.

“Mason.”

“You kept saying ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘It’s my fault.” Mason brings a hand up to his face as he says it, biting down on his knuckle. “Do you— do you remember what you saw?”

Theo shakes his head, still trembling. He wants to leave, doesn’t want them to see him like this. But he can’t trust his legs.

Corey shifts uncomfortably, looking away even as he remains kneeling in front of the chimera. Mason bites down on his knuckle even harder. There’s something they aren’t telling him.

“What else?”

“I don’t—”

“What else?”

“You screamed.” Corey blurts out. “Just as we managed to get you in here, you screamed.”

He doesn’t understand. He knew he’d been seeing things, hearing things for a while now. But every time it happened, he couldn’t remember. Every time he tried to claw it all back, they disappeared, like they didn’t belong, even as some part of him desperately tried to convince him otherwise.

A sudden crashing through the doors has all of them looking up.

“Theo!” Liam, still dressed in full gear, barrels into the locker room, sliding on his knees to stop at Theo’s feet, hands grabbing tightly onto the chimera’s forearms. Corey moves away to make room for the beta. “What happened?”

The chimera blinks at him. He can still hear the game going on outside. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you.”

“You heard me?”

“Yeah. Are you okay?”

“But the game is still on.”

Liam’s grip on Theo’s arms tightens. “Are you okay?”

Theo doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t want to lie to Liam, but he should, shouldn’t he? He was the co-captain; he needed to be out there.

“He collapsed,” Corey admits, Theo shooting his fellow chimera a glare as he spoke. “And it seemed like he was dreaming.”

“What happened before he collapsed?” Liam asks, turning to face the couple.

“He was just staring.”

“At what?”

“At nothing.”

At Corey’s admission, Liam’s eyes snap back to Theo’s, a sudden realisation in his eyes. Theo doesn’t like the look of it. But a part of him has to know.

“What?” He asks the beta reluctantly.

“That’s what happened to you back at the house. In Adora’s room.”

Theo remembers the moment. That feeling of being unmoored and lost, like his mind had untangled from reality, only to snap back, leaving him with a sense of unease and vague familiarity. It hadn’t been the only other time — there had been that moment with Deaton in the grove, too. And they seemed to be increasing in intensity.

He doesn’t want to venture there, to talk. That night, when he’d been healing, he’d been beyond exhausted and still in pain. That, coupled with all Liam and the puppy pack had done for him, had sent so many of his walls crumbling down, which was the only reasonable explanation for why he’d been so open with his thoughts and feelings that night. And for all the time he’d been spending with them since, they’d never ventured anywhere close to… sensitive topics. They kept it casual or siren-related, which Theo was more than happy with.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them — whatever was relevant to the sirens, he would tell them freely, no prompting necessary. It benefited all of them. These strange dissociations that left him disconnected from his reality were unrelated. They didn’t need to know. Besides, what good would it do? They might think he was going insane, or that something was wrong with him. There are already enough things wrong with him. He just wanted to keep his head down and do what needed to be done: work, school, sirens — nothing out of the ordinary that would threaten this new equilibrium.

Also, the outpouring of… care everyone had been showing him had left him somewhat untethered to reality in its own way, like a boat that holds on to the dock by an old, fraying rope. Just because he was learning to accept it didn’t mean he was already there, that it wouldn’t take time. It was a shedding of skin that left him raw and exposed — Theo wasn’t about to let anything dig even deeper.

A deep breath steadies him, helps him stop shaking as he clings to what he needs to do.

“I don’t remember,” is what he finally tells them, keeping his heartbeat steady and chemo-signals as neutral as he can. It’s not easy, but he does it.

Only Liam frowns at him. “Are you sure?”

When Theo looks into the beta’s eyes, he sees the doubt in them, like he can tell that Theo is withholding something. Which is absurd, because hadn’t he spent months lying about who he was in his bid to infiltrate the McCall pack? Hadn’t he almost succeeded at destroying them? Liam couldn’t tell. No way.

“Yeah, of course.” He pairs his words with a crooked smile, keeping his breaths even. “I’m fine.”

“Then how do you explain what just happened?” Mason demands.

The chimera shrugs. “Guess I fell asleep.” It’s a terrible lie, but the only one he has now.

“In the middle of a lacrosse game?”

“I generally don’t sleep well.” Weave your lies into your truth, that’s how you do it.

“I thought you’ve been sleeping better,” There’s an accusatory note in Liam’s voice, even a hint of betrayal at the thought that Theo has been having nightmares and not telling Liam. He had, though.

“Better doesn’t mean good,” He tells the beta.

“Is it… nightmares?” Mason asks tentatively.

Of course, the human would get to that deduction having suffered the same before. And there would be no satisfying the trio without some truth. Liam already knew about the nightmares; admitting this to the couple is better than admitting to the other thing.

“Yeah,” Theo finally confesses, deliberately looking back down at his hands as he does, letting them tremble again.

“But you said they’ve been better,” Liam accuses him again, more betrayal lining his words, this time.

“Again, better doesn’t mean good.”

“So,” Corey says doubtfully, “You’ve been sleeping so badly that you fell asleep in the middle of a really loud lacrosse game and while investigating a siren attack, having a nightmare both times?”

“You do realise sleep deprivation is one of the worst things a person can go through, right?”

The trio exchange looks, clearly not believing his entire explanation. He didn’t blame them; it was weak, but he had nothing else.

“Theo,” Mason starts, “If something is—”

“Mase,” Liam cuts off his best friend in a firm voice, though his eyes are back on Theo. The chimera looks up into the beta’s face curiously, wondering why he isn’t letting Mason question him.

“What?”

“Theo said it’s nothing. Leave it.”

“But—”

“Leave it.”

There’s a look in Liam’s eyes, one that says he knows that Theo isn’t telling the truth because he isn’t ready. It’s that patience again, an offer to be there when he needed it. Only this time, it’s unnecessary. Theo was definitively not going to talk about it.

“But I think this could be—"

Thankfully, they’re all interrupted by a new voice. Theo isn’t ready to hear whatever the human may have figured out.

“Theo?”

It’s Lyra.

Liam stands, letting go of Theo’s hands and moving away, putting the girl in his direct line of sight.

Theo isn’t all that surprised to see her. He’d seen her lingering at the outskirts of the field, too far away to place her expression, but enough for him to know that it’d been her, and that she’d seen him.

He’d been avoiding her.

Logistically, it had been easy — he’d been in recovery, after all, and she didn’t know where he lived, which was exactly how he intended it to stay until they unveiled the identity of the siren. But then she’d noticed that he was being uncharacteristically terse in his responses to her texts, that he’d found numerous excuses to avoid her calls.

She’d been very ‘Lyra’ about it. At first, almost playful, telling him that he was losing friendship points. Then she changed tact to directness, demanding that he tell her what was going on, or at the very least, admit that he was cutting her off.

Avoiding her over his last three days back in school hadn’t been as difficult as one would think. English was the only class he shared with Lyra that neither Mason, Corey, nor Liam were a part of, but that hadn’t been too hard to manoeuvre around, either. He simply came into class late, taking whatever desk was available, and ran off before she could corner him, taking their project discussions online.

The whole operation was made much easier, considering that the puppy pack plastered themselves to him, dogging his every movement. It would have been annoying, if not for the fact that it made Theo feel some type of way. Okay, it was still annoying, especially when Alec and Nolan were involved, but Theo couldn’t deny that he liked it, this strange sense of security they all brought with them, in more ways than one.

The hard part was the emotional battle within himself. He liked Lyra, and the problem therein lies. He hadn’t meant to do that, to want to be her friend, and have her call him one in return. It was all supposed to have been a part of a strategic tactic: keep a close eye, have her lower her guard, and she would make a mistake eventually, as everyone did.

Except that everyone had managed to do all that with the other siren potentials without such a close bond getting in the way. And now that Lyra was the likeliest siren —the meeting at the river and her being the last person he spoke to before his boiling attack had made that abundantly clear— the distance was necessary.

Before, it had been so easy to pretend to be friends, to pretend to care. To be the monster. He’d underestimated himself again this time, only in a completely different way. He’d outgrown his own skin.

Now, he had to deal with the consequences of his actions: ending a connection that meant more to him than he’d allowed himself to acknowledge, before he was forced to fight her. Maybe even kill her.

Besides, if she weren’t the siren, it was all still built on lies. How could he tell her about all he’d done and expect her to stay? He had the puppy pack now, and lightning never struck the same place twice.

So he avoided her, ignoring how wrong it felt. Because it was the right thing to do.

“Theo?” Lyra asks again, taking a few steps into the locker room, light slanting in from the upper windows, serving only to emphasise the conflicted expression on her face.

“Yeah,” He answers monotonously, looking down at his hands, still trembling.

There’s a pause. “Boys. Give us a moment.” Lyra requests of the trio, though it comes out more like an order. That was the Lyra way.

“We’ll be right outside,” Liam mutters for his ears only as they leave. Although who knew at this point? Maybe sirens had enhanced hearing, too.

The silence between Theo and Lyra stretches, distinctly uncomfortable.

“What happened to you?” The girl finally asks, her voice as flat as Theo’s had been, though there’s an undercurrent of worry that sends a stab of guilt through Theo.

But was it for him, or of being discovered?

“I fainted. Guess I haven’t fully recovered.”

“Were you in the midst of fainting all those times I texted and called you, then?”

“No.”

“So, that’s no excuse for avoiding me. You owe me a proper explanation.”

“Fainting usually occurs due to a lack of proper rest and nutrition. Stress plays a factor as well.”

“Don’t patronise me, Theo.” She snaps, the first bit of emotion she willingly lets through. “What is going on?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me.”

Theo finally looks up at Lyra. Her hands are clenched into tight fists at the ends of arms that are defiantly crossed. Her stance is wide, like she’s braced for a confrontation. And though she fought to keep her face carefully neutral, the tightness around her mouth and the barely-there crease between her brows gave her away. But it was her eyes that nearly broke him — the glossy tell-tale sheen that shimmered in dark brown depths, the way she stole glances over him, as if searching for any signs of injury or weakness.

It doesn’t take long for Theo to steady himself. He’s an expert in this type of control, even if he didn’t find himself reaching for it as often as he used to anymore.

“You’re a smart girl, Lyra. What do you think happened?”

Turning the question back on her was easy — a trick he’d used a hundred times before. People like her, the ones who buried their emotions under logic and poise, could never resist the lure of defining the truth aloud. Even though he was the one manipulating the circumstances, it gave them a sense of control. And he was counting on that.

“That you don’t want to admit the truth. You want to make me do it instead, so it absolves you of all responsibility.”

Theo chuckles darkly, looking away. “Oh, trust me. If you can tell me the truth, I’ll fully admit to it.”

And he would. If Lyra told him she was the siren, he’d tell her this whole friendship had been built on false pretences. That was the only way they could still be friends, the only way he could admit to who he was and what he’d done, and still even have a hope of her understanding.

But she wouldn’t. Whatever plan the sirens had, it was too complex, too far-reaching for something as simple as friendship to destroy.

All paths led to the same destination: destruction.

“You’ll admit that I was just a replacement? That you just wanted Liam and the rest back in your life, and I was just someone to fill that gap until you got them all back?”

It was the most logical explanation for his behaviour. And by no small coincidence, the one Theo had also cooked up in his head for this very moment.

“I did say you were smart.”

“Not all that smart since I’m still here, trying to figure out why you can’t have space for me in your life, too.”

Theo had also thought something up for this. But something dark in him writhes and twitches as he speaks the calculated words.

“You were the only option. And if I had a choice, do you really think I’d choose someone who can barely get through a social interaction without making everyone wish you’d stayed invisible? Who reminds us with every word that you don’t belong here? I mean, come on, Lyra. You go on walks for fun. Alone. That’s all you’re meant for.”

His words have the intended effect. She takes a step backwards, mouth open on a silent gasp, hands coming up as if instinctively trying to push them away.

As quick as her reaction had come, it’s gone, her face and posture now back to a blank, neutral slate.

“And here I thought we could have been alone together.”

She doesn’t stay to see his reaction, doesn’t see his face fall or hear the heart in his chest constrict.

Liam sees it all, walking back into the room with Corey and Mason following close behind, the couple looking crestfallen on his behalf. But Theo only looks to Liam, who heads straight for him, back to where he’d been before, on his knees before Theo, looking him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry,” is all the beta says. Theo averts his gaze, looking back down at his hands. Still trembling.

“There’s still a chance,” Corey tries to tell Theo, trying to keep his tone comforting and hopeful.

“No,” The chimera shakes his head. “Even if she isn’t the siren, whatever friendship I was creating with her isn’t built on truth. She’d never accept me if she knew.”

“We did,” Mason points out, “And we had far more reason to reject you than she did.”

“But it’s unlikely.”

“You don’t kn—”

“Mason,” Theo says his name quietly, a plea. The human closes his mouth.

Theo can hear small sounds of movement around him, like the trio were exchanging meaningful glances, like they were shifting restlessly, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Liam puts his hand on Theo’s shoulder, forcing the chimera to look up. “Whatever you decide to do after we find out the truth is your decision to make. But we’ll be here either way.”

It’s supposed to be comforting, knowing that when all is said and done, he’ll truly still have these friends and Liam. In a way, it is — it had been earlier, too. But in a way, it isn’t.

They are the glimmers of light in an encompassing darkness he can hold onto, a darkness that only grows as he lets go of one other light.

***

By the time they all head over to Theo’s for dinner, the chimera is feeling better, physically, at least. He’s still afraid, still shaken by the whole experience — the visions, the inevitable loss of Lyra. The latter, he’s certain, is a lost cause. But the former…

They happened to him. He couldn’t do anything about it, could only wait for the next one to happen, and come out on the other side, lost.

Every time he had come out of it, every time he tried to pull the images back to himself, it had been on instinct. You always want to remember what happens to you. But now, after this last one that had left him so raw and shaken, he didn’t want to know anymore.

Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

He had to focus on what is good. Things that need to be made better. Things that need to be solved.

This isn’t important. Neither is Lyra.

The words don’t sit well within him, but it can’t matter right now.

He forces himself to act normal throughout dinner, enough so that Mason and Corey stop with their worried glances. Nothing he does prevents Liam from carefully watching him, but the beta doesn’t speak of it, which is good enough for now.

Eventually, they speak of the plan. Liam hates it, as expected, but he also agreed that they needed to get ahead of the sirens somehow. He also, very vehemently, insists that Theo not be part of the group that goes to the lake. Besides, he’d said, he was the only one who hadn’t seen the lake and the house. He should go.

Theo makes them promise to go to the farthest edge of the lake, the shore at the opposite end of the house.

And thus, the plan is all laid out.

And though Liam doesn’t push, doesn’t bring any incidents of the evening up, he stays the night. They spend hours reading terribly inaccurate historical fiction books, until Theo wakes up covered on the couch, a plate of cold, burnt bacon and rubbery eggs waiting for him.

He still eats it all.

Chapter Text

Theo is restless.

He’d slipped out of the assembly early to wait for Mason, Corey, and Liam at the clinic, something they’d decided on despite the chimera’s protests. Once the trio disturbed the waters, if Mara or Lyra were the siren, they might get defensive. Which meant they might go after Theo again.

So, the chimera was forced to be here, safe behind a mountain ash barrier, trying to distract himself with filing.

The click of paws on the floor makes him look up from the desk, just in time to see Max trot into the room, tail wagging as she spots him.

“Hey girl.”

She bounds over in excitement at his voice, launching half her body onto her lap, making him drop the file he’d just finished organising.

He shakes his head fondly. “Well, that’s 30 minutes of my life I’m not getting back.”

Deaton strolls in, catching his statement and chuckling. “She figured out how to open the latch on the gate.”

“Of course she did. She’s the smartest dog to ever live.”

“Smart enough to be a bit of a menace, then?”

“Oh, yeah. The other day, she ripped up a pillow because she’d finished destroying her chew toy.”

Deaton had been looking after Max during the days Theo spent at school; she’d basically become the clinic mascot. This precious girl, once too scared to venture outside of her cage, now happily greeting all visitors. As long as they didn’t get too close, too quickly.

“Have there been any updates?”

Theo glances at his phone, but there are no new messages from the last time he checked three minutes ago.

“Surprisingly, everything seems to be going smoothly.”

The doctor gives him a wry smile. “Which worries you.”

“It worries me because I’m not an active part of the plan, which means I can’t do anything to change the outcome if things go wrong.”

“They might not go wrong.”

“They might.”

Deaton leans against the desk, looking down at Theo. “I think you’re less worried about things going wrong than you are about what it means for the pack if they do.”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Not necessarily,” Deaton obliges Max with some pats as she wanders over to him. “The first just means that your plan didn’t work. The second means it’s more important to you that they get through unscathed.”

“They are intertwined concepts,” the chimera insists. “You can’t have one without the other.”

“But one could carry more weight,” The doctor fixes him with a knowing look.

Theo sighs. “Fine, yes, I’m worried about them.”

“I’m glad. That means you’re well on your way to accepting that you’re not alone.”

It’s Theo’s turn to give the doctor a wry smile. “It’s hard to deny with all they’ve said and done.”

“That’s true. But I also know you, Theo, and I know that there will be times you deny it despite all the evidence in front of you. So, hearing you acknowledge this is important. Never forget that step.”

“I think they’ve got that covered, considering how much they keep reinforcing it for me.”

Theo turns on the chair to face the doctor fully, his words stained with disbelief and just a touch of wonder as he continues. “You know, Corey came over the other night because he was bored? He ate all my ice cream! Mason bought me a book just because he was at the store and saw something he thought I’d like. And, of all things, Liam wants me to join Mason and Corey for their next game night at his place.”

“It makes sense. You’ve grown close to all of them, especially to Liam.”

Theo opens his mouth, then closes it. He’d been about to agree — he had grown close to all of them. But it was also true that the connection he shared with Liam was different.

Instead, he tells the doctor, “I told Liam something I haven’t told you, yet.”

Deaton tilts his head, gazing at the chimera with an open expression.

“I told him about my nightmares.”

And just like it had with Liam, it all comes out again. Everything that he had seen and continues to see. It’s easier this time, less false starts and necessary stops, less of the sensation of being exposed.

He also tells the doctor of what Liam had said, that it was sad that he dreamed of things that never came to pass, that the nightmares weren’t his conscience keeping him in check. That choosing to be here, doing all that he was, had meant he had wanted better from the start.

When he’s done, Deaton just looks at him, a soft smile on his face.

Theo shifts in his seat. “What?”

“I think Liam is good for you.”

“Well,” He stammers, “I mean— you would have said the same things.”

“Probably. But it’s different when it comes from him, isn’t it?”

It… is. The bond he’d built with the doctor was special, its own unique creation, but so was the connection he had with Liam. Having the beta not just see him this way but force a change of perspective meant a lot to Theo in different ways. He just hadn’t quite figured out what all of them were yet.

“Yeah,” He finally admits, “But that makes sense, doesn’t it? He’s… my peer, I guess?”

“Mm.” The doctor looks away as Maxie, bored with the lack of constant pats, trots back out the door. “And I think you’re good for him, too.”

Theo blinks. There’s no way that’s true. He starts to tell the doctor so, only to be interrupted by the sound of his ringing phone.

It’s Liam. He puts it on speaker.

“Are you guys okay?”

-Are we okay? You’re the one who hasn’t answered his texts!-

“Sorry, Liam,” the doctor jumps in. “I was distracting him. He was worried about all of you.”

-Aww.- That sounded like Corey.

“So, what happened? Are you all okay?” Theo asks again. “Where are you?”

-Everything worked out fine. We got the water, and we’re on the way back. Should be there in fifteen.-

Theo blinks again. It worked. His plan has worked. And they’re all okay.

“And how is the lake?” Deaton asks.

The sound of fumbling comes from the phone, then Corey’s voice. -It’s definitely different from last time. More still and silent. And not as bright.-

“Bright?” Theo questions sceptically. “It’s still light out.”

-Yeah, but like, the sunlight didn’t really seem to reflect off the lake as much. I don’t know.-

-It didn’t feel like Texcoco,- Liam’s voice comes back over the phone, -but it didn’t feel good either.-

“That doesn’t bode well,” Deaton says, a frown forming between his brows. “Especially since we know so little about sirens as they are, far less about dark sirens.”

-I’ve been thinking about that actually,- Mason says, -Maybe we need to look more closely at mythological or even philosophical concepts of water.-

“Why?” Theo asks.

-Think about it. There’s the saying ‘life-giving waters’, isn’t it? Siren water heals siren wounds. Obviously, not the water we just gathered, because the lake is corrupted, but the zom— the bodies are a perversion of the saying. The water took their lives, but gave it back in a twisted sense, reanimating them somehow. If we apply the same way of thinking to other concepts of water, maybe we can learn more about dark siren abilities.-

Theo is impressed. He decides to tell his friend so. “You continue to impress me, Mason.”

-My life is sustained by your approval alone, Theo.-

-Isn’t there the saying, ‘still waters run deep’?- Corey asks.

“Yeah, except the original saying is ‘smooth runs the water where the brook is deep’. It’s from Henry VI by Shakespeare,” Theo tells them, not caring that they would probably call him a nerd again.

-Um, actually,- comes Liam’s voice. -The proverb first appeared in Classical times, in a historical account of Alexander the Great.-

Theo looks up to Deaton, twin looks of stunned surprise on their faces.

-Theo?- The beta probes. -Are you impressed?-

The chimera rolls his eyes, a small smile on his lips. “Is your life also sustained by my approval alone?”

Liam scoffs, -No.-

“Then consider me unimpressed.” Theo continues over the beta’s squawk of protest. “But if that saying is older than we think, it could be linked to mythology and thus, the sirens.”

-Just like the concept of ‘life-giving waters’ is a consistent one across many cultures.- Mason points out.

“Exactly.”

-So ‘still waters run deep’ refers to the power of the lake, right?- Corey asks

-Yes. But sirens aren’t supposed to access that power. They’re protectors first and foremost,- his boyfriend replies.

“The sirens drown people to gain power,” Theo thinks aloud. “They acquire souls. But their bodies are meant to remain in the water. What if the perversion of the belief is that, as dark sirens, they go deeper than they are meant to by bringing the physical bodies of their victims back as their tools?”

-But we already knew that.- Liam points out.

“We didn’t know for sure if it was a dark power or not, or just something regular sirens could do.”

-I think the lake being darker when we got here was a pretty big clue.- The beta tells him dryly.

“Yes, but the more evidence we have, the more we can confirm, and the better our future strategies. We also learned one more thing.”

-We did?-

“We didn’t know where the bodies were. We didn’t know where the sirens were keeping the construction workers and everyone else they drowned. Now we do — the perversion of ‘still waters run deep’ also means that the darker power is kept within the lake. That’s where the bodies are.”

Silence falls as everyone absorbs this. The sirens had a greater number of souls by now. Supernatural ones, too. All lying in wait in the depths of the water, waiting to be called upon to fulfil their profane purpose.

-We got really lucky today.- Liam finally says, relief clear in his words.

-Yeah.- Mason agrees. -I don’t think anyone should go back to the lake under any circumstances from now on.-

“You shouldn’t even have gone there today,” Theo states, the guilt washing through him. “I shouldn’t ha—”

-Theo.- Liam’s firm voice cuts through. -We agreed to this. It’s done, and we’re fine. Do not beat yourself up for something that didn’t happen.-

Theo sighs. “I should be allowed to beat myself up at least a little.”

-No!-

-Stop it!-

-I’ll beat you up, how about that?-

Deaton hides a small smile behind his hand.

“Fine, fine,” He huffs. “How far out are you from the clinic now?”

-Five minutes.-

“See you soon, then.”

***

Everyone watches as Deaton carefully stirs a large bowl of water, slowly dropping in a vial of the tainted lake water. Nothing changes — it simply looked like water, smelled so, too. Clear and innocuous.

Mason clears his throat. “So, who should test this?”

Theo, knowing better from being banned from both missions at the school and the lake, immediately shoots out his hand before anyone can respond.

Unfortunately, Liam has anticipated his actions, his arm whipping out and stopping Theo’s fingers just an inch from the surface of the water.

“And why does it have to be you?” The beta glares at the chimera.

“I have contributed nothing to this plan.”

“Excuse me,” Mason raises an eyebrow, “I believe you contributed The Plan.”

“Oh, my apologies.” Theo rolls his eyes. “I meant, I contributed nothing to the enactment of The Plan.”

“So?” Liam demands.

“So, it’s my turn.” Theo snatches his hand out of Liam’s grasp, ready for the water, but the beta is ready, his other hand coming up to stop him again. “Liam, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could just ask.”

The beta kicks his glare up a notch, hand tightening around Theo’s. “We’re not letting you do this.”

With a grunt of exertion, Theo pulls his hand back again, crossing his arms against his chest. “I could make you let me do it, you know.”

Liam’s eyes glow a yellow warning. “You could try.”

“Guys,” Corey says placatingly. “Let’s just talk about it, okay?”

“There’s nothing to talk about! I’m the only one who’s been tortured by the sirens. Ergo, I’m best prepared for whatever happens.”

“And do you think we want to see that happen to you again?” The beta demands, eyes flashing. “I’m the leader, or whatever. I should do it.”

Theo raises an eyebrow. “Are you?”

Liam’s eyes fade back to blue, looking away. “You don’t know what it was like for me—for us to watch you go through that.” He mutters.

Mason, Corey, and Deaton watch the two of them, eyes going back and forth between the pair, all a little more wide-eyed than the exchange warranted.

The chimera sighs. “Look, you asked me to stay here so I could be safe, while all of you put yourselves in danger. More danger than we originally realised. It’s my turn to do something.”

“You’ve done more than something.”

“But I want to do this. Let me do this. And—” Theo cuts himself off, not sure if he’s ready to say it.

“And what?” Liam asks, voice softer now.

With a steadying breath, he looks the beta unflinchingly in the eyes. “I know what it was like. Do you think I want to watch you feel that?”

Silence.

“I mean,” Theo looks around the room, at Corey, Mason and Deaton. “Any of you.”

“Aww,” Corey says, a gentle smile on his face.

“Fine,” Liam concedes begrudgingly. “But—"

Theo doesn’t wait to hear what else he has to say. He plunges his hand into the bowl, squeezing his eyes shut.

Everyone around him jumps, a scramble of people expecting the worst.

But nothing happens. Not even a tingle.

Theo opens one eye, only to find Liam glaring at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. It worked. I don’t feel anything.”

“Was it strategic to do that without a plan in case you did feel something?”

“The strategy was in doing that before you could stop me.”

“I will beat you up.”

“Seriously, though, I feel fine.”

Before anyone can react, Corey dips his fingers into the bowl, too. “Huh.”

Liam and Mason follow suit, all of them having similar reactions. That is to say, none at all.

They each pull their hands out, wiping them down on their clothes. Liam wipes his hands on Theo’s jacket, citing something about not wanting to get his jeans wet. The chimera shoves him away.

“Do we think this will work, then?” Corey asks the question on all their minds.

“None of us are sirens,” Deaton says, “The only way to tell is through this plan of yours.”

Liam sighs. “Saturday, then. Pool party, it is.”

They all leave the clinic shortly after that, the beta automatically climbing into Theo’s truck, no one questioning it.

“Home?” Theo asks.

“No. We’re getting takeout, and then we’re going to your place.”

Theo raises an eyebrow at the beta’s brazen presumption. “Oh, we are, are we?”

“I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”

The chimera frowns. “Why not? I told you, I’ll call you if I have bad nightmares again.”

Liam attempts to raise his eyebrow, only for both of them to fly up his forehead, giving the impression of one shocked. “And what if there’s a delayed reaction from the water, and you can’t call?”

“If that’s true, the same thing would happen to you. And Mason and Corey.”

“You’re the only one who lives alone.”

“Technically, I have Max.” The aforementioned dog barks from the back seat at the sound of her name.

“Technically, I don’t care.” The beta digs around in his backpack, pulling out a book. “Besides, I have another book for us to read.” It’s a historical account of Shakespeare’s life.

Theo finally puts the truck out of park, pulling them out onto the road towards his apartment. “Good. You can read, and I can tell you all about the significance of his various plays. Maybe even the sonnets.”

Liam groans. “I didn’t think this through.”

“Did you know that several scholars claim that Shakespeare isn’t actually the true author of the works attributed to him? Some have said it was Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, or even Sir Francis Bacon. It’s been speculated that Bacon even encoded his Baconian cipher into the works, which is—”

“I really didn’t think this through.”

***

Friday afternoon finds Theo gloriously home —home!— alone. One of those rare instances where he has no classes, no work, and best of all, none of the puppy pack barging in unannounced and uninvited like they usually did.

Theo is all settled in by the bay windows with a cup of tea courtesy of Peter’s collection and a book donated by Derek, and he cannot wait to immerse himself in this peace and quiet.

Ah, solitude.

Totally alone, as he had been since Liam had left that morning, leaving behind a terribly salty ham and cheese sandwich for breakfast. It was a gift just how much the beta could fuck up even the simplest of breakfasts. Theo wouldn’t trust him with a box of cereal.

(He still finished it all, though.)

But Liam had been gone when Theo woke up around eight, and it was now past two in the afternoon. Six hours of solitude. Six hours by himself. Six hours completely undisturbed.

Pure bliss.

And also kind of boring.

He’d already spent most of the morning catching up on schoolwork and reading. And there was only so much reading one could take, even for a book nerd like him.

Theo glances at his phone, part of him hoping it would ring with Liam begging him to pick him up from school, or asking to go to the park with Maxie again, or to just come back over and finish the Shakespeare book from last night. Hell, the chimera would probably welcome it if the beta called with another siren attack for them to investigate.

Okay, no, he wouldn’t go that far. They’d attacked another group of supernaturals during the week, and frankly, he was tired of getting there too late to do anything meaningful besides find dead humans and missing supernaturals. There had been no more injured children, though, thankfully.

The knob on his front door starts to jiggle. Theo blinks at it. Surely the sirens wouldn’t waste time with picking the lock —they’d just barge in— and besides, as Mason and Corey kept reminding him, he was protected by a state-of-the-art security system.

It wasn’t the couple because they always knocked. And Liam had a key. Or rather, Liam had stolen Theo’s spare keys, and when the chimera had stolen them back, the beta had appeared on his balcony one night, banging on the doors and demanding to be let in because he was hungry. Theo let him keep the keys after that.

That left only one possibility.

The door swings open, and the expected culprits fall in: Alec and Nolan.

“Oh, good,” the baby werewolf exclaims. “You’re home.”

Theo raises an eyebrow as they straighten up and dust themselves off. “That’s probably the first time in all of history that housebreakers have been glad to find someone home.”

“We’re not breaking and entering!” Alec protests.

Theo slides his eyes to the actual lock-picking set in Nolan’s hands.

“Okay, fine, we were, but you should be glad we had that with us.”

The chimera eyes them suspiciously. Had they smelt his boredom? “Why, exactly?”

“Alec wanted to break down the door, but I convinced him not to,” Nolan tells him helpfully.

Theo is begrudgingly impressed by the fact that the mini-human knew how to keep the impulsive werewolf somewhat under control and that he knew how to pick locks.

The sound of trotting paws has the two younger boys turning.

“Maxie!” Nolan exclaims, falling to his knees as the dog leaps onto his shoulders with happy yips.

As always, it had taken time for Maxie to warm up to new people, but Nolan had almost immediately formed a strong connection with her, which only grew every time he visited — she always ran to him first when the puppy pack came over. So much so that Theo even let him take her out for walks by himself. Max seemed to bring out something in Nolan, who, never the chattiest, spent most of his time at the apartment murmuring away to the dog as he spoiled her with treats and toys.

But anyway.

“Is there a reason for your descent into petty crime?”

They give him identical confused looks.

The chimera rolls his eyes. “Why are you breaking into my house?”

“Oh, it’s Mason’s birthday!” Alec tells him, looking as if he expected that to be sufficient explanation.

“And?”

“And we’re having a dinner for him tonight.”

“Here, you mean.”

“Yeah!”

“And who decided this?”

Alec blinks. “Everyone did. Except Mason, ‘cause it’s a surprise, and Liam and Corey are keeping him busy until dinnertime, then they’ll bring him here.”

“Let me clarify: who decided you were gonna do this here, at my house, without my permission?”

“There’s nowhere else to go.”

“There is literally gonna be a big party at Corey’s house tomorrow night. Can that not be Mason’s birthday thing?”

“I mean, it is,” Nolan explains, looking up from where he sat on the floor playing tug-of-war with Max, “But it’s also not? Like, it’s the excuse for the party, but you know Mason doesn’t want anything big like that.”

“Why did no one tell me?”

Nolan shrugs. “Because you would have said no.”

“Exactly.”

Alec shoots the chimera a sly look, “We’d have worn you down.”

Theo spears him with a withering glare that sparks no reaction. And he is not going to dignify what Alec had said with a response. “But why here? Why not, I don’t know, Liam’s or something?”

Nolan gives him a weird look, “Because we always hang out here.”

The chimera opens his mouth, ready to deny it, but somehow, the apartment had become the de facto hangout spot for the puppy pack. It was a wonder he was ever alone. Theo is beginning to regret feeling bored — it had summoned them.

The baby werewolf starts opening up the fridge and cupboards in the kitchen, rummaging through them.

“What are you doing now?” He asks suspiciously.

“Looking for ingredients.”

Oh, no. They were planning to make the dinner themselves.

“Nope,” Theo slams a cupboard door on Alec’s hand, the younger boy yelping in pain. “I’m still traumatised by that concoction you cooked up on my first night here.”

At least Liam’s creations resembled food, in looks if not in taste. Whatever had been in the pot that night had been out of this world, and not in a good way.

“But we have to!” The baby werewolf protests, “It’s a birthday! It has to be meaningful!”

“The only meaning he’ll derive from whatever you two make will be food poisoning.”

“We all shit out what we eat eventually,” He grumbles.

Theo stares at Alec in abject disbelief, who only looks back with an expression of innocence.

“No,” The chimera finally says, pointing towards the living room, “Out of my kitchen. Never step in it again.”

“What if I’m thirsty?!”

“Then go stick your mouth under the tap in the bathroom. Or, better yet, stick your head in the toilet bowl.”

The baby werewolf turns to Nolan. “Help me out here!”

Nolan shrugs. “You did burn the pasta at my house last week.”

“Let me guess. He burned it while boiling the pasta?”

“Yep.”

Alec glares at Nolan. “Then why did you even agree to come here with me in the first place?!”

“Because Theo mentioned he didn’t have classes today and I figured he’d be home to stop you.”

“And what if I was out?” Theo asks the mini-human. “Could you have stopped this… imbecile?”

“Hey!”

The side of Nolan’s lips curls up, and Theo can see something devious lurking behind his eyes. “I had a plan.”

“Oh?”

“I would have triggered your smoke alarm the moment Alec turned on the stove, so we’d be forced to evacuate.”

Begrudgingly impressed, Theo tells Nolan, “Okay, you may get your water from my kitchen.”

“Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t just smash the alarm to bits,” Alec mutters.

“Are you going to cook, then?” Nolan ignores the baby werewolf, looking up at Theo. “Alec is right. It’s a birthday, so it has to be meaningful.”

They stare at him until he admits, “I’m not that great at cooking either.”

“Aha!” Alec points an accusing finger at him. “Hypocrite!”

“I’m not the one who makes slime out of stew!”

“It was supposed to be soup!”

“That’s even worse! Besides, I can cook well enough to get by, but nothing fancy for a special dinner.”

Born out of the necessity to save money, along with the current availability of an actual kitchen, Theo had learned to cook some simple meals — basic pastas, fried rice, stir-fries, salads. Easy dishes. They were never going to win him a Michelin Star, but they were passable.

However…

“I’ll make a cake.”

That has both Alec and Nolan eyeing him suspiciously.

“You can bake?” Alec questions.

“Yeah,” Theo says, crossing his arms defensively as he feels his cheeks start to heat up. “Better than I can cook.”

Cooking was weird. He could follow a recipe down to the letter, but there was always something a little off about the final result; a little too plain and bland. He’d tried making a baked ziti once when Deaton had come over —and it was more than edible— but the doctor had agreed with him that something was missing.

Cook with feeling, Deaton had told him, and Theo had scoffed because what did that even mean? How much soy sauce does ‘add soy sauce to taste’ mean? Whose taste? Taste of what? The ocean?

He’d tried his hand at baking only because he wanted to make something for Deaton as thanks for all he’d done for him, and baking was the first thing he thought of, as the doctor had a weakness for pastries. Turns out, he was pretty decent at it, likely because of how structured it was, so ordered and to the point. Follow the recipe, do not deviate, and you get the intended result.

It was also much more relaxing than cooking, which was just a frantic chaos built around subjective measurements of time. Chop the garlic while the chicken is cooking, the recipe says. Then add it in when you’re done, the recipe says. Only, you’ve barely peeled all your cloves, and the chicken is already starting to burn. Ridiculous.

“Wait a minute,” Nolan suddenly says, “Those brownies we had last week, you made them, didn’t you?”

“You told me you got it from a bakery!” Alec looks at him, accusation in his eyes again.

Theo rolls his eyes. “Fine, yes, I made it,” he admits, ignoring the nerves in his stomach.

“And the cookies on Monday?”

“Yes, I made the cookies I gave you on Monday.”

“Huh.”

“What, baby werewolf?”

“They were pretty good.”

“Of course they were. I made them.” He suppresses a smile as he says it. Also, they’d said so on Monday.

“Why didn’t you just tell us?” Nolan asks.

“I saw this really cool fruit tart recipe on TikTok,” Alec interrupts before the chimera can answer, “Can you make that for us?”

Theo just makes a sweeping gesture at the baby werewolf, then looks back at the mini-human, as if to say, ‘need I go on?’

“Ah.”

“So, I’ll make a cake, and you guys can go get the food.”

“What should we get?”

“Doesn’t Mason like that Thai place, Sri Trat?” Theo asks.

“That’s on the other side of town!” Alec moans.

Theo levels him with an unimpressed look. “And didn’t you say it had to be meaningful?”

“Fine.” He grumbles. “Will you drive us?”

“And how am I supposed to make a cake and drive you at the same time?”

“Can you split yourself in two?”

Theo just stares at him. This is becoming a thing.

“What? Corey can turn invisible. I don’t know what your weird chimera powers are.”