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cromwellrex2 · 1 year ago

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The Third Civil War, August-September 1650: ‘all in disorder and running, both right wing and left.’

Dunbar: Cromwell’s Greatest Triumph

Highlander Pikemen at Dunbar by Graham Turner. Source: Warfare History Network website

WITH HIS unseemly betrayal of Montrose and, in effect the cause of High Church Scottish Royalism, Charles had given himself little choice but to accept wholeheartedly the requirements of the Scottish Committee of Estates and to relinquish Anglicanism. This conversion was not a happy one: Charles departed the Netherlands on 2nd June 1650, and when his ship was forced to dock in Helgoland, seeking refuge from Commonwealth naval pursuit, his accompanying Scottish commissioners required him to sign further binding conditions as sub clauses to the Treaty of Breda, confirming his adherence to Presbyterianism ‘in the presence of Almighty God.’ Charles was now effectively a theological prisoner of the Kirk. When Charles landed in Scotland he was immediately subjected to a regime of Puritan religious indoctrination, in an attempt to purge the young man of what the Covenanters believed were his Popish inclinations, inherited from both his father and his mother. Whereas Argyll’s government were determined to use the influence of their reluctant convert King to justify its suppression of all opposition to Presbyterianism within Scotland, it was not at this stage seeking to extend its creed to England, despite the terms of Breda and the Solemn League and Covenant. The English Commonwealth however were not so sanguine. For the Independents of the Rump Parliament and the New Model Army, the combination of ideological Puritanism with a Presbyterian version of Royalism was a potentially deadly threat, with the risk that any number of dissenters in England could rally to this new challenge to the still barely legitimate Commonwealth. The English Council of State believed a fourth Covenanter invasion of England was inevitable and it determined that the New Model Army should pre-empt this by invading Scotland first.

The command of the expedition was awarded to Oliver Cromwell, but not before a sincere attempt by both the Council of State and Cromwell himself to persuade the old warhorse Sir Thomas Fairfax to do so. Fairfax however declined. He was a reluctant supporter of the Commonwealth, having opposed the execution of Charles I, and was also a sincere Presbyterian who was genuinely troubled by Parliament’s reneging on its commitment to the Solemn League and Covenant: he could see no justification for an invasion of Scotland. On 22nd June, Fairfax, probably the most successful and influential Parliamentary commander of the civil wars, called a permanent end to his military career. Perhaps typically of this general, characterised as he was by his loyalty, dignity and humanity, his departure was prompted by a point of principle. He retired to his estates in Yorkshire, never to return to the political or military fray, his reputation intact.

Cromwell, the champion of religious toleration and opponent of Presbyterian fanaticism, had no such qualms. Promoted to Lord General by the Council, he was provided with an army of 16,000 men, a third of which was cavalry. It was a strong force but as importantly was the calibre of the officers Cromwell had recruited to his staff: Charles Fleetwood, John Lambert, Thomas Pride and George Monck were some of the best military men in the New Model Army, battle-hardened by the fighting in the two previous civil wars and in Ireland. Cromwell still hoped a peace could be negotiated and, once he reached Berwick, called on the Scots to renounce any attempt to invade England. The Scots, with an English army at their gates, unsurprisingly refused. Cromwell crossed the Tweed and into Scotland on 22nd July.

The Committee of Estates put an army of 20,000 in the field under the command of the experienced and capable David Leslie, a veteran of Marston Moor and Philiphaugh. His defence of Edinburgh, organised in a fortified line between the capital and Leith, proved effective against an initial English assault and Cromwell broke off hostilities, but this apparent strength was deceptive. The effective civil war that had overthrown the Engagers following the battle of Preston had led to much purging of Scottish military forces by the Kirk party and the replacement of experienced men with godly and enthusiastic, but poorly trained, replacements. The contradictions of Covenanter policy were also underlined when a visit by Charles to Edinburgh was enthusiastically received by many of the soldiers led to a further purge of 4,000 of the troops, suspected of recidivist Royalism, organised by the radical Presbyterian ministers embedded in the Scottish army.

Nonetheless, Cromwell still found it difficult to bring the cautious Leslie to battle. After a number of inconclusive skirmishes, the general withdrew to Dunbar. His army was wracked with dysentery at this point and by the end of August, his force had been reduced to no more than 12,000 effective fighting men. It began to look as if the Commonwealth’s pre-emptive action may well fail. Leslie sensed weakness and therefore moved his much larger force out of Edinburgh and looked to a pitched battle to defeat decisively the English invasion. Leslie occupied a strong defensive position overlooking Cromwell’s troops on Doon Hill, but urged on by his officers and the Presbyterian ministers, convinced the English were fatally vulnerable, the Covenanter general ordered an advance. As the Scottish forces streamed down Doon Hill towards him, Cromwell allegedly murmured to his officers: ‘God is delivering them into our hands, they are coming down to us.’ However at a subsequent council of war on horseback, Cromwell’s officers recommended that battle be avoided: that the infantry and artillery should be evacuated by sea and the cavalry should force its way south and both should then regroup in England.

Cromwell was not happy to take this advice. He had noticed that as it formed into position, the Scottish right flank was over-extended. In discussion with Lambert, he decided to reorientate his own army by focusing its strength, both cavalry and infantry, on the Parliamentary left, thereby dispensing with the traditional formations of strong infantry flanked by cavalry. This manoeuvring took place under cover of a rainy night, unobserved by a soaked Scottish enemy, confident that victory was already theirs. At dawn on 3rd September, the Commonwealth left, supported by artillery who had also moved into position overnight, assaulted an unsuspecting Scottish right flank, led by Lambert’s cavalry. This caused disarray until Leslie reinforced his right with cavalry and pikemen. Monck’s infantry were hard pressed and began to retreat back across the Broxburn River. Cromwell decided to throw in his reserves not to reinforce Monck, but to attack the stretched Scottish left. This caused complete confusion as Cromwell’s personal mounted guard crashed through the Covenanter ranks. When the Scottish cavalry broke, the battle was essentially over. In the rout that followed some 3,000 Scots were killed where they stood or in flight and some 10,000 were eventually made prisoner, offered the choice of military service in the army of their enemies or enslavement in the Caribbean. Cromwell had won possibly the greatest military victory of his career: it is little surprise that the Lord General took his extraordinary reversal of fortune at Dunbar as a sign of divine providence.

The battle of Dunbar, although ultimately decisive, was not the end of this third British civil war. Although Cromwell occupied Edinburgh on 7th September, Leslie, whose offer of resignation was rejected by the Committee of Estates, regrouped his surviving forces, numbering approximately 4,000, and took up strong defensive positions at Stirling. Cromwell, meanwhile, master of much that he surveyed, determined to finish the menace of the Solemn League and Covenant once and for all, by negotiating an end to militant Presbyterianism in Scotland, thereby also ending Scotland’s attempt to restore Charles II to his throne and any further threat to the integrity of the English Commonwealth.

#the battle of Dunbar #english civil war #third english civil war #war of the three kingdoms #Charles II #oliver cromwell

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mummybear · 1 year ago

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My Brother's Best Friend - Part Two - Too Much

Words: 4085

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Mention's Of Blood, Tiny Bit Of Smut, Multiple Heart To Heart, Protective Scott, Possessive Stiles, I think that's it! :)

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Reader/Sadie McCall, Lydia Martin, Liam Dunbar, Allison Argent, Melissa McCall.

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski and Reader

Summary: Tensions are running high when you discover more than you had ever imagined has happened over the past few months. What you do discover after all this time might only be the tip of the iceberg.

A/N: Hey guys, so this is part two! Thank you to everyone who has read/liked/commented on the first chapter I appreciate it more than you know! This chapter is a little more angsty than the last so I hope you enjoy it, had to bring in momma McCall for this one! Enjoy, and let me know what you think! :D

Chapter 2 - Too Much

The drive back home is silent, the air thick with tension. Almost like nobody dares to speak a word. Stiles flexes his fingers and they move further up your thigh. You have to fight your body's reaction to squirm against the onslaught, you want him closer and you want him to stop all at the same time. You bite your lip when his long fingers brush against the edge of your panties. Fighting every instinct currently battling it out in your psyche, you close your legs, trying to focus on the road ahead, rather than the insatiable man beside you.

Your eyes snap toward Stiles when you hear a deep and pleased rumble coming from him, as he buries his nose in your neck his lips slowly make their way up. Not stopping until his teeth are nibbling at your ear. You can taste the slight hint of blood on your tongue as you continue to bite back the whimper of want building in the back of your throat. Suddenly though, you lose control when his fingers brush against the dampened lace of your panties.

“Is that all for me? So fucking wet,” Stiles rasps his voice almost a growl, as his teeth drag across your ear lobe and another whimper leaves your now parted lips.

“Stiles. Stop, for fuck’s sake,” Scott growls, and you swear that you hear the creek of the steering wheel beneath his grip.

Stiles either doesn’t care what your brother has to say or he just simply doesn’t listen. The next thing you know his lips have dropped to your neck once again, and he’s sucking what you have to assume is going to be a mark into your neck. He releases the skin with a gentle nip of his teeth and he groans when his fingers push your panties to the side, no doubt happy to finally get to your bare skin. You suddenly forget where you are and who you’re with. You can’t explain it, but the next thing you know you’ve parted your thighs, and you’re rolling your hips to get closer to him.

“You want me to make it all better, beautiful?” he growls, dragging two long fingers through your slick.

“Please, Stiles. I need it,” you whimper as those fingers slowly but firmly circle your clit.

“So fuckin’ wet. All fucking mine.” He moans as your fingers wrap around his wrist and you push his hand closer to you. Letting out a shuddered moan when his fingers move to your opening.

“Right. That’s it, I’ve had enough.” Scott snaps, and Stiles pulls you against him right as Scott slams on the breaks.

Stiles grins at you as he slips his fingers between his lips, your gaze is glued to him as he sucks those fingers between his plump lips and moans in pleasure.

Suddenly the back door opens, and it’s almost ripped off of the hinges, you’re dragged from the car by Lydia, apparently you had made it home.

“Hey Lyd’s,” you grin at her dreamily, letting her tug you further away. Leaving just enough room for Scott to barge in.

“Hey Mini, hell of a night, huh?” She smiles, wrapping an arm around you, probably worried you still can’t stand up properly. In truth she’s not totally wrong.

You wince as Scott drags Stiles from the car and roughly slams him against the side of it.

Suddenly it's like you’re doused in reality, as your lust fades a little further into the background. Leaving it so that you’re able to focus once more on your surroundings. What you see leaves your mouth open in shock. Lydia takes your hand and gently squeezes it, while you both watch the scene unfold, but the shock of what you are watching leaves you unable to squeeze back.

Because it looks as if Stiles is fighting against Scott, and Scott doesn’t exactly appear to be finding it very easy to keep Stiles in place. You can’t see Stiles’ face, but you can see Scott’s red Alpha eyes reflected in the window of the car. The sudden roar that cuts through the air even has you scared. You haven’t heard your brother this angry in a long time, and even Lydia flinches beside me as instinctively pulls me closer, while the other wolves bow their heads in submission to their Alpha.

Your hold on Lydia’s hand would be painful for most people, luckily you know she can take it. Scott’s forehead presses against Stiles' as they seem to have a quiet conversation, so that nobody can hear. There’s a collective sigh of relief when Scott steps back and releases Stiles, leaving him to sag back against the car.

However, then the confusion is back for you. The humiliation of what you’d let Stiles do to you in front of everyone in that car, including your big brother, his best friend. You can feel the deep blush as it covers your body. You need to get out of here, you take Lydia by surprise when you yank your hand free from hers, slowly stepping back away from the scene and everyone involved. Almost as one everyone turns to look at you, and your heart hammers painfully in your chest. A tear rolls down your cheek, you just don’t understand, what the hell is going on?

In the right place at the right time, maybe you’d have gone there with Stiles, but not that fast, and certainly not the two places where things had happened tonight. It was almost as though you had no control of your actions, no control of your own body or mind.

“Sadie? Hey, it’s okay. This isn't your fault, none of it is. Just come inside, I think we should all talk.” Scott sounds so sincere, not one look of judgement on his face, he’s stepping closer slowly, like you’re a wounded animal that he’s scared will run if given the opportunity.

The tears are falling now, thick and fast, but you don’t dare to look anywhere that isn’t your brother. Too scared of what you might see on his friends' faces. There’s one direction in particular that you can’t even consider glancing in, because you’re terrified of the look of regret that will be on his face.

You continue to step back though, you need to be anywhere but here and quickly. Your heart is aching painfully, you don’t know what to do, your head hurts so much right now.

“Please, dont,” Scott practically begs, his big brown eyes meeting yours, but when he takes another step towards you, you do the only thing you can. You run.

You don’t even know where you’re going, unable to think straight or see very well in the dark you simply take off. Scott knows you well enough to know that if he follows you, you wouldn’t want to talk about anything right now. So all you hear as you run is your own heartbeat thundering in your ears and the wind whipping around you as you sprint faster than you have in years. You don’t stop until your legs and lungs are burning, only stopping to rest against the railing by the lake. Letting your head rest on your arms, sucking in air the best you can.

When you finally have your breathing under control, you stumble back into the bench behind you and sink into it with a thud. Tilting your head back, you look up at the stars, wishing that anything about tonight had made any sense.

Your lifelong crush had made out with you, in fact you’d even taken things to the next level. You can’t help but think that you should be happy. But so many things about tonight don’t make any sense, and you hate it. You need this night to make sense. You can’t forget the look of desperation on Stiles’ face when it had just been the two of you, even if he liked you a lot, that look, you just don’t understand it completely. You’d known him your entire life and he had never once looked at you that way. It was almost like he was terrified you’d turn him away, even more than you’d been that he would do the same to you. Then there’s that word he’d growled before he’d pounced on you. Mate. What the hell did that mean? Not to mention that purple glow his eyes had. Once you have chalked it up to a trick of the light or something, but you had seen it alot more than once.

Before you can drive yourself insane you hear the crunch of leaves behind you, and you jump up and spin around. But your anger very quickly deflates when you see the one person who always knows how to make everything better. “Mom? What are you doing out here?” you ask in an almost broken whisper. Trying to keep your voice even, though you know it’s pointless, she knows you too well. Not to mention that the person who had sent her here would’ve told her everything anyway.

“Baby, come on. You know better than to try that around me,” she smiles gently, pulling you into her arms as soon as she’s close enough.

You sag against her as she wraps you in her arms, burying your face into her shoulder and the tears come once again. She doesn’t even try to stop the tears, only holds you tighter, until they stop on their own.

When you’ve finally stopped shaking she leads you over to the bench, and you take a seat before she turns you around to face her.

“You want to talk about it, sweetheart?”

“I dunno if I can. I mean this isn’t exactly normal stuff. Even if it was and I wanted to talk, this is why I should have a friend to talk to, but since Callie. I just can’t,” you sniff, trying to block out memories of your best friend.

Callie had been killed last year, thankfully nothing to do with werewolves or the supernatural. Not that it would have made much difference, she was still gone. You missed her like crazy, she knew everything about you and your crazy mixed up family, it never scared her away, she was always there, no matter what was happening. Until that one night. It felt as though your heart had been ripped out when you’d received the news. It still does when you think about it for too long.

“Hmm, I guess you’re right. Though part of this is perfectly normal, honey. I know you’ve always had a soft spot for Stiles. I can just listen if you want? You can leave out anything you don’t want to tell me,” she smiles, nudging you gently with her shoulder when you look at her, your face unable to hide the shock that she knew.

“How did you..?”

“How did I know about Stiles?” she chuckles quietly, cupping your cheeks so that you meet her eyes.

“Because, not to be a cliche, but I am your mother.” she winks at that, making you smile, then she shrugs and wraps her arm around your shoulders, “and honestly, I think the only people who didn’t know were Scott and Stiles. Those boys, I swear they haven’t changed since they were kids.”

That fond smile on her face is one you can’t help but share, with a defeated sigh you meet your mothers eyes.

“I know you won’t tell me any details, but something’s going on right? I’m guessing you know Stiles has changed somehow? You just won’t tell me how, right? He has to tell me himself, or Scott?”

“We never could keep anything from you baby girl. Yes, a lot has changed, with Stiles, and otherwise. Honestly I wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining this. I mean… It’s big, I won’t lie. But I know you can handle this Sadie.”

You swallow the lump which has lodged in your throat as you stare down at your hands, “I’ll try. That’s all I can say, until I actually know what’s going on. Unfortunately I guess we can’t put this off forever.”

You stand and take your mom’s offered hand and the two of you make the short walk back to the house, albeit slowly, she knows you well enough to know that you need time to process everything still.

“If you need space then you tell me. I’ll make sure you damn well get it, Alpha or not, he’s my son and your brother. You know he will do whatever is best for you. If you want, we’ll make them wait until morning? It’s your call, sweetheart.”

“Pretty sure there’s only one thing I can do.”

You straighten your spine and take a deep breath, looking over at the woman on your right. She’s by far the strongest person you’d ever met, and likely ever would meet. You’re pretty sure that you already know what she would do in your position. Clenching your free hand into a fist, you turn to look at her. Melissa McCall could’ve become a victim so many times in her life but she’d never become one, and you intended to follow in her footsteps, no matter how difficult the situation, you wouldn’t let anyone break you.

As if she can read your mind she gives your hand a squeeze and smiles, “that’s my girl.”

When the two of you return home the house is deathly quiet, no sign whatsoever of anyone outside the house. Immediately your mind goes to the worst case scenario and judging by the slow steps your mom is taking, she’s thinking along the same lines.

The front door creaking open is the only sound in the house, and it sounds so much louder when it’s surrounded by the silence. “Maybe they just left?” you whisper hopefully, not even believing the words as you say them.

Almost as if by muscle memory, in the pitch black you wrap your fingers around the end of Stiles’ baseball bat, you’re a little surprised that it’s still here, when he doesn’t appear to be. But you’re not about to complain about having a weapon when you need one. As you move through the kitchen there’s the slight drip of the tap, a sound which seems to almost bounce off of the walls in the silence. You can even hear the sound of the wind whistling against the windows but nothing else.

The hand that’s wrapped around yours tightens further, as you’re pulled closer to your mom’s body. You take another step forward when a thought occurs to you, swallowing your fear you whisper once more.

“What about the basement? We sound proofed it, could they be down there and we’re worried over nothing?”

The moonlight almost seems to light the path as soon as your mom gives you a nod of agreement. The basement had been installed shortly after you’d all gotten Stiles back from the Nogitsune. It had come in handy more than a few times in the past. You feel your nerves escalating, the closer that you get to the basement, the worse your nerves become. You regretfully put the bat down by the door as you carefully turn the doorknob, wincing at the squeak you’re certain will follow. Fully aware that the basement had been sound proofed, and if they are down here, then you wouldn’t know until you open the final door at the bottom of the steps.

With all of that in mind you take the stairs slowly, carefully manoeuvring around the third step down, since that one has always squeaked rather obnoxiously.

Your entire body feels as if it’s shaking from adrenaline and nerves as you reach the bottom of the stairs, wiping your hands on your clothes, you then reach for the door handle. When suddenly the door opens. You stumble back in alarm, grabbing for the baseball bat, which you quickly hold above your head, quickly stepping in front of your mother.

However, you quickly lower the weapon, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your eyes land on your rather dishevelled looking brother.

“Scott, what the hell is going on?” you ask urgently, hearing a deep growl coming from the room behind him, and the clang of chains is unmistakable.

Your brother gives you a pitying look as he chews nervously on his bottom lip, to your surprise he steps out of the room, gently taking you by the shoulders, he pushes you back into the hallway.

“We should really talk, Sadie. Just come upstairs. Mom could you maybe…” he nods his head towards the door behind him. With a smile she gives your hand a final squeeze, before she releases you. Quickly doing whatever it was he had asked of her, she seemed to know exactly what it was though.

“Come on, we should sit. I’ll even get your favourite ice cream out,” he grins at you, but you know your brother well enough to see that he’s nervous.

“Well, shit. This really must be serious, Scott McCall sharing with the pain in the ass little sister.” Your joke seems to fall on deaf ears as Scott simply sighs, he looks tired, like dead on his feet tired. You gently grab his arm as you both sit on the sofa with the tub of ice cream between you, “Hey, you’re okay, right? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”

“I’m okay, mostly at least. I just really wish we didn’t need to have this conversation, especially not now, not like this, Sades. I don’t even know where to start.” Scott tells you quietly, dragging a hand over his face, the stubble along his jaw is almost becoming a beard at this point. Something so unlike your brother that you’re surprised you’re only just realising.

Seeing your overconfident brother so unsure is so unusual to you, he hasn’t been like this since before he’d become a werewolf. You could count on your hands the few times you’d seen him return to this unsure worried version of himself. Which only made you all the more nervous, but you didn’t want to push him to hurry up and explain. You’d let him take his time, because as much as you needed to know, he was your best friend and your protector. Seeing him like this hurt more than you could've ever imagined.

Moving the tub aside you lean your head on Scott’s shoulder, “Maybe you should get some rest, you look like shit big brother,” you laugh when he shoves you off of him with a grin.

You turn to face each other, pulling your legs under you, the way you used to when you were kids. When you were wanting to have one of your conversations, where Scott plays big brother and gives you his sage advice. Not that it was always good or right. Half the time it was stuff that you knew already, or stuff that you would never do. But you loved him for trying all the same.

Your father had left not long after you were born, and as young as Scott had been he’d stepped up for you. He was the one man you knew you could count on, no matter what, and that wasn’t going to change you were sure of it.

“You don’t need to look out for me, Mini, that’s my job, remember. I look out for you,” Scott smiles, gently nudging your shoulder.

“No, you're my brother, that was dad’s job. But I prefer you anyhow,” I smile at him, and lean into the sofa.

“So which is it? Bed or are we gonna do this now?”

Scott sighs and straightens in his seat, and just like the Alpha is back.

“Oh I wish I could, little sister, you have no idea how good a bed sounds right now. But we’re doing this now.”

“Okay, I’m listening. Tell me everything that I don’t know about, might as well get it out of the way.”

“You remember a few months back when I went to visit Stiles?” he asks you carefully, and you’re already shocked.

“This has been going on for months!? You’ve been lying and hiding this from me for months! I understand most of the time Scott, but dammit something that’s as important as this clearly is, you should’ve told me!” you almost shout, unable to hide or hold back your anger. Especially when it quite clearly seemed to concern you.

“Go on,” you sighed apologetically, realising there was no point in being angry about this, of course he hadn’t told you, yet another time he was trying to protect you no doubt.

“Sadie, if we had any idea any of this would end up involving you I would’ve told you the second everything happened.”

“It’s fine, Scott, I understand. But it isn’t just that this involves me but it’s clearly important.” Shaking your head you clear your throat, before looking back at him, doing your best to reign in your anger. “Anyway, yes I remember, you said something about Stiles needing help, but you never did tell me what he needed help with.” Your need to know more only grows the more he talks about Stiles, something is definitely off, and you’re worried some of your earlier thoughts may have been correct.

Nothing could have prepared you for your brother’s next words however.

Taking a deep breath Scott tells you the truth of that weekend away he’d had.

“Stiles had been struggling for months. He uh… he was starting to forget things, silly things at first, then he really started noticing it and he called me. He was too scared to go to the hospital, he didn’t want them to tell him what he already knew.” Scott lets out a shuddering sigh, wiping his hands on his jeans.

Your mind is begging him not to say what you already know is coming, “go on,” you whisper nervously, grabbing his hand when he reaches for you.

A tear drops from Scott’s eyes when he meets yours and you swallow thickly, “I...I convinced him to go to the hospital. Yanno, maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought. Part of me wishes he’d ignored me, but he needed to know. We needed to start planning. Unfortunately, the doctors only told us what he already knew. Fuck this is hard.” Scott moans quietly, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Stiles had developed frontotemporal dementia. Just like his mother. It fucking broke him Sades, he tore out of that room so damn fast. I followed him, but he told me he needed time to process, just some time alone.” Scott’s voice is shaking so hard, and you feel like your heart just broke in half, but you know only by the look on your brother’s face that isn’t where the story ends.

Clearing your throat you squeeze his hand, “there’s more, isn’t there?” you ask tentatively, feeling the tears fall freely from your eyes.

“Fuck, do I wish there wasn’t,” he mutters, his laugh devoid of humour. A roar sounds from the basement, and then you hear a door slam. You look at your brother with wide eyes and he sighs sadly once more. “I shouldn’t have let him go alone. He was worried he was being followed during training by something, he didn’t know what yet and he didn’t tell me, not until that day in the hospital waiting room. I should have followed him, but he needed space.” Scott looks up and meets your eyes once more, “I was walking around the parking lot of the hospital when I heard him scream. Then I remembered his stories, and I didn’t even think, I just ran as fast as I could. But by the time I got to him, he was bleeding out on the floor, Sadie. He looked so bad, he was white as a damn ghost, could barely keep his eyes open, I lost it. My instincts… just kicked in.” Scott whispers the last bit as another tear rolls down his cheek.

Jumping to your feet you feel your breathing start to change, as you try to consider what else he could be about to say, but only one thing comes to mind.

“Don’t say it, Scotty, please.”

He gets to his feet and pulls you into his arms before you collapse, “I did it. I bit him.”

Tags:

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#my brother's best friend #scott and stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x you #stiles teen wolf #teenwolf #chapter 2

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so-long-soldier-writes · 2 months ago

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Anchors

liam dunbar x theo raeken

summary: the end of the war brought a slew of changes to the lives of those left in beacon hills. unfortunately for liam, that includes taking his medication again, since telling his mom about the supernatural didn't go exactly as planned. now, he battles a retake of his senior year, the side effects of his medication, and a desire to keep the good things he has in his life, all while trying to keep himself afloat.

tags: angst & feels, hurt / comfort, post-war, implied / referenced s3lf h4rm, mild blood, dread doctors mentioned, protective!theo, theo lives with the dunbar-geyer family & he also works in the hospital bc i can see it, forehead kisses (so many), mentions of past abuse, relapsing, beowulf references, found family, touchy-feely

word count: 7.4k

a/n: So a big chunk of this is about Theo's past with the doctors, and growing up with them, and I'm pretty sure I got most of my facts right, but if something's totally off-canon, my bad. Season 5 is honestly quite confusing to me, and I'm trying to rewatch it to understand better. Anyway, I also did a lot of research on antipsychotics, because that's what Liam said he used to take. I struggled a bit, because a lot of the medications used to help IED also reduce sh urges, but we know Liam struggled with that throughout the show. Ugh, I love him so much. Comfort character <3 I want to give him a hug. Third thing, I haven't read Beowulf in like, six years, so all of my references are from SparkNotes, Quizlet, and a vague, vague, memory of it from the last time I touched a copy of it.

Also, greatest apologies for being absent / not posting for just about an entire month. I'm trying to reclaim my life; I've lost myself a bit this year. I did put in a three weeks' notice for my job, so I hope I can be active again soon.

One last thing, I'm still writing for Kai, I just have had this idea lodged in my brain for a while. I have a lot of stuff to write for a lot of different characters, i just have to get the gears turning again. ily all <3

“I hope loving me isn’t the hardest thing you’ve had to do.”

It’s spoken out in a whisper, but is heard loudly. It rings like a bell in the ears, and makes Theo sigh stressedly before he brushes his hands on his pants. “Clearly you don’t remember the things I’ve been through,” he starts.

“I’m serious. It hasn’t- I haven’t been easy lately. You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“I’m here by choice.” Theo rinses the rag under warm water, then crouches back down to Liam’s level. He takes each finger gently, easing the blood out from underneath his fingernails. “I never had a say in anything that happened in my past, but I have a choice here, with you, and I choose to be with you.”

“Aren’t I making your life harder? You should be out in the world, exploring things you’ve never seen or done. Not stuck in Beacon Hills, babysitting me half the time.”

“I’m not babysitting you, I’m dating you. And I’ve chosen to stay here regardless; I’ve learned I like it here. I like my job, and your parents, and you, and even though I could go out, do something else - and still date you - I don’t want to.”

Part of Liam’s brain knows he’s being ridiculous. Theo’s told him a thousand times how much happier he is now. He does like his job, and he does love Liam and his parents, but he can’t help the insecure feeling that he’s holding him back. “But-”

“And you’re not hard to love. You never are.” He pauses, but when Liam opens his mouth for what he’s certain is a rebuttal, he continues. “Now, the doctors,” he chuckles, “they were hard to love. When they tried to act parental, it was awful. But then I felt guilty for not seeing them that way, because as much as they were killing me, they were also keeping me alive.” Theo tries to bring his attention to the scientists that Liam’s so keenly interested in. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the distraction works, but Theo can tell from the frown on his face that this time is part of the one percent.

“I’m no better than them; I’m hurting you now.”

The smell of fear still lingers in the air, mixed with fresh blood and the undistinguishable scent of pain. Theo had all but kicked down the door ten minutes ago, leaving it unable to be locked until it’s fixed, but he much prefers it that way.

“You’re nothing like them. Are you forgetting you saved me from death? From hell? You brought me back, and we fought for each other, almost died for each other, and survived a war thanks to the unspoken trust that that act gave us? I love you, Liam. My stubborn heart can effortlessly say that, because I know you aren’t going to hurt me. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. I’ve never cared for anyone since Tara.”

Liam’s heart softens. The stone walls he tries to put up crumble down into dust. Theo shares so comfortably because Liam’s given him the time, and space, and love to do so. He hasn’t forced or rushed him; he makes him feel safe, and listens, and speaks, reassuringly, when Theo needs it. He loves him wholeheartedly, and makes sure he knows it.

A deep sigh makes Liam slump forward, posture horrible, but neither comment on it. He watches as Theo cleans the last of the drying blood from his nails and arms. The slowly healing wounds pick up their pace with his care, and eventually, not even scars are left.

“Sometimes I wish the scars would stay,” he mutters. “I think it would help me do it less.”

Theo understands. But at the same time, he knows it’s better that they heal. “I think your mom would catch on if they did,” he reminds gently.

Liam’s eye twitches. The painful reminder seems to do the trick. “Can I see yours?”

Without question, Theo lifts his shirt, revealing the small mark under his heart that never fully healed. Liam runs his fingers along it immediately, feeling the bump of raised skin permanently changed from an invasive surgery he had as a child. The doctors, he said, promised it would heal. It never did.

Theo watches Liam suck in a breath as he trails his fingers down his body, causing him to drop his shirt and chuckle. “You just wanted me to take my shirt off.”

A blush rises to the younger boy’s face. Truly, he did want to see the scar, but it’s easy to get distracted by his boyfriend’s beautiful features. “No-”

He laughs. “Sure-”

“No, I’m serious!” He puts his pointer finger on the scar again, this time over his shirt. The smile from his blush is gone from his face, the somber mood returning to the room. “Thank you, Theo.”

“You aren’t hard to love.”

“I just feel like a burden sometimes.”

“And I love being the one to remind you that you’re not.” Theo kisses his fingertips individually. Liam’s so full of love he might explode. He sighs, eyes fluttering.

“I’m tired.”

“I know you are.”

“Can we lay down?”

“Of course.”

Theo tucks Liam into his bed and changes into something more comfortable before joining him. As soon as they returned from work, Dr. Geyer fell into bed, exhausted from the day. Jenna won’t be back for another couple hours. They have time for a nap.

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

That evening, when Theo hears the crackling sound of food cooking on the stove, he untangles himself from Liam’s sleepy grasp and tiptoes downstairs. Jenna smiles at him as he joins her in the kitchen.

“Hi, sweetheart, how was work today?”

Theo can’t help but smile. Those are two words he’d never thought to be combined in a nickname talking about him, but Liam’s mom calls him that almost every day.

“It was good. David had a surgery, so he’s napping, but nothing too heavy.”

“Awh, good. And where’s Liam?”

“Also napping.” He frowns, but doesn’t quite have the words yet, so he asks, “how was your day?”

“Busy, but alright.” She stirs something in the skillet, then tilts her head at him. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…” he struggles, again, for the right words. It isn’t his place to comment, but he’s willing to cross the line if he thinks it’s necessary. Right now, remembering the scratches on Liam’s arms, he knows it’s definitely necessary. “I don’t know how to say this…”

Jenna nods for him to speak, his worried look quickly betraying him. “Talk to me. What’s up?”

“Liam…” he starts slowly, “I don’t think the meds are helping him. I think he needs to come off them. He’s been extremely tired lately, and…” he doesn’t finish the sentence. He isn’t sure how to tell her the rest; the concern Theo has for his safety.

“Sweetheart, the meds are good for him. They help with his condition, and especially knowing… what I know now… he needs to be in control of himself so something doesn’t happen.”

A month ago, Liam had finally told his parents about the supernatural. The news came with some shock, but they took it well otherwise. The lupine gene didn’t make them love their son any less, nor did they express any fear, but it did cause them to worry about his I.E.D. worsening. Heightened strength and emotion could lead to more outbursts. So, worried for him and the people around him - if he were to get angry - they refilled the prescription they’ve ignored for two years. Ever since Liam’s been taking it again, he’s been subdued. His parents only see him more tired, though, and assume it’s working. They don’t see the side effects that Theo sees, though, the stuff he desperately tries to hide.

“I understand, but isn’t there another medication he can try? Or something natural?”

“Like a therapist?”

“I don’t know, but something else.” He wets his lower lip with this tongue, catching the skeptical look on her face. “I just… he’s so tired all the time, almost too tired, I just, I don’t know, it’s changing him. He isn’t as happy anymore.”

“He’s only been taking them for a month, he’ll get used to it. Just takes some time.”

“No, there has to be another way,” he argues, insisting she listens. Hoping she senses the urgency in his tone. “He barely has enough energy to play. He told me that’s why he stopped taking them in the first place.”

Jenna shakes her head. “He’s going to have to get used to it. It’s the safest thing for him. I don’t want-”

“But it’s not!” He interrupts. “It isn’t safe! He hasn’t been himself. He’s- he’s-” Theo stops at the disappointed look on her face. Jenna isn’t one to re-interrupt back, but instead wait patiently with an eyebrow raised, which, he’s finding, is way worse than being scolded. “I’m sorry.”

“My husband is closely monitoring his state and dosage. If we determine something needs to be changed, we will make that change. Honey, I know you care about him, and I know he doesn’t have the same energy he used to, but this is necessary, okay? I don’t know much about this werewolf stuff, so this is me doing my best to keep my son safe. Please respect that.”

Theo bites his tongue. He doesn’t want to push Jenna any further. He doesn’t want to hurt Liam - either of them - by telling her the truth of how the medication’s really affecting him, so he stays quiet. Upstairs, he can hear Liam shuffling. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Thank you for understanding.”

That is not the word he would use, but Theo doesn’t argue further. When Jenna turns back to the stove, he heads back upstairs to check on his little wolf.

He isn’t okay, and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to tell her that.

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

The next morning brings the usual hustle and bustle as the found family gets ready for a long day of work. Liam’s waiting for a ride from Mason, since on days Theo works at the hospital with his dad, the two drive there together. His dad, at the moment, is in the kitchen greeting his mom, as Liam lazily hugs his boyfriend. As they separate, he drops something into Theo’s scrub pocket, making him narrow his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“Gift.”

He digs out a little folded paper heart and smiles. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it in math class. Couldn’t focus.”

The cute gesture makes Theo kiss him on the forehead, but then he shakes his head. “You do realize you’re retaking senior year to learn this year, right?”

“You do realize I’m retaking senior year because I couldn’t learn last year because half the town was erased by Ghost Riders, and then a war broke out that was led by one of the teachers, right?” Theo gives him a look, causing Liam’s shoulders to slump. “Sorry. I know. I’m trying to focus, but I’m too tired.”

“I know, Little Wolf. It’s okay.” He plops the heart back into his pocket. “Thank you for the heart.”

Liam smiles, but before he can say anything, his mom calls for him across the room. His daily reminder, every morning, at seven sharp.

“Hey, Li, remember to take your meds, okay?”

Both look over to see her insistent face, and Liam sighs before grabbing the prescription bottle off the table. Theo takes in a sharp breath that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jenna. She turns back to her husband, whispering.

“Theo started a little argument about that yesterday.” She nods to her son, who’s popping a capsule into his mouth.

“That’s unusual for him.” Her husband squints.

“Mhm. Let’s keep a closer eye on Liam. He was saying it’s doing more than just making him tired. Asked for an alternative, but I assured him it’s the best option.”

“Okay. Maybe I’ll make an appointment with the psychiatrist again. That might help.”

“Yeah, that’ll be nice.”

“Alright.” He kisses her, then returns to his normal voice. “I’ll see you later, okay? I love you.”

“I love you, too. Have a good day at work.” Outside, Mason honks loudly, and Jenna turns to the boys. “Liam, time for school. I love you.”

“Okay.”

“Theo, I love you, too. David’s about ready to go.”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

He turns to the younger boy. “You gonna be okay?” Liam nods. “You have an issue, you call me. Alright?”

“Okay.”

“If I can’t pick up, what are you gonna do?”

“Make more little paper hearts.”

Theo half smiles. “Okay. Or text Mason, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And I’ll call you back as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good. We’ll be back around six today, hopefully.”

“Okay,” he repeats. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, wolf.” They share a quick kiss, interrupted by Mason honking again, and then Jenna hurrying them both out the door. “You be good. Pay attention in class. The goal is to graduate this year.”

“Shut up, Theo.” He smirks. “I’m kidding. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

Most of the day goes by alright. Except… alright is the only thing Liam’s felt since his mom hurriedly forced him back on antipsychotics after learning about his supernatural status. She was understanding of the news, really, and didn’t mind the fact that he’s a werewolf, but he thinks the only reason she possesses a little bit of concern is because of his I.E.D. If he were a normal kid-turned-werewolf, it’d be no bother, but his condition has always made her worry.

Jenna loves her son to death and will do anything to protect him. She allowed herself to be an outlet for her angry ex-husband, but the moment she realized he’d also been hurting Liam, she sent him out the door. Finalizing the divorce with the narcissistic man was almost as difficult as being married to him, but it was all worth it once he was finally out of their lives. Despite his lack of presence though, the pain still lingered. The abuse he’d delivered left a mark on them; it left Jenna fearful, and Liam volatile. Letting David into their life was a big step for both of them, but it’s made them better.

The medication, however, has never helped. Liam tends to get the worst of the side effects and little of the actual relief that the chemicals are supposed to give. He stopped taking it for a reason before, and now… well, he’s lucky Theo’s already seen him at his worst, so he doesn’t have to hide his pain from him like he does with his mom.

He’s struggled with it before, but it manifested itself differently. Liam always remembers the time his stepdad told him, “people deal with anger in two ways: they hurt others, or they hurt themselves.” He used to always hurt someone else first, the way his biological dad taught him, until he turned. Then, every effort became protecting others. And if that meant hurting himself to do so, that’s what he did.

Now, Liam still struggles with it. The Urge. The urge to do something, anything with your pain. Having no idea where to put it, so you put it on yourself. You dig your nails into your arms, extend your claws and bury them in your skin, scratch until all the pain is no longer emotional, but physical, and visible, and out in the open. Bleeding, because it’s easier than crying. He’ll heal faster from open wounds and scars than he will a face red and puffy.

Liam hasn’t told Mason about the hurt. He knew about it the first time around, but he can’t bear to see his disappointed face if he tells him about the three-year-clean relapse.

Theo, though, has seen every inch of Liam’s soul, even the icky bits. He’s seen him full of love and full of hate. He’s seen the bits Liam’s tried - and failed - to hide; the shame that you can hide from a best friend but not a lover. Besides, nothing can hide the smell of blood to another werewolf, especially not one you’re living with. Liam wishes he thought twice about that before doing it the time he got caught.

The Urge returns in English class for no particular reason. That’s the thing about it: you could be having the worst day or your life or the best, it doesn’t care. The voice is always in the back of your mind, telling you you could feel a hundred times better if you’d relapse again. Liam bites his cheek, trying to fight it off, and then tastes blood and realizes that’s just as bad. He raises his hand.

“Yes?”

“Can- May I use the restroom?”

“Sure. Only since you used the correct word.”

“Thanks.”

He calls Theo the moment he locks himself inside a stall. The bastard misses the first call entirely, but Liam calls again anyway.

Theo feels his phone ringing in his back pocket, but he’s in the middle of taking a patient’s blood and can’t exactly stop right now. Within a minute, the call disconnects, but the caller tries again. Theo hands Dr. Geyer the vial and excuses himself.

“Can I take a call?”

“Yeah, be quick.”

Beyond the curtain, he panics at Liam’s name on the screen.

“Li? Are you okay?”

“I’m in the bathroom.”

“Okay? Can you expand on that a little?”

“I’m trying really hard not to do something stupid. I’m really bored. We’re doing absolutely nothing in English class, and my brain is screaming at me.”

“Okay, okay. Hey, take a deep breath. Get your mind on something else. Think about… What were you doing in your English class, hm? Tell me about it.”

“What were you doing in the hospital? I’d rather hear about that.”

“Well,” Theo hesitates, not sure if he wants to talk about it while Liam’s fending off urges about the same thing.

“C’mon, I’m curious. Your hospital stuff is way more important than Beowulf and the stupid creature he’s trying to kill.”

“Ah, you want to know a fun fact? The Dread Doctors made me read that book.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Part of them trying to be ‘parental,’ like I mentioned before? Yeah, it was a ‘kill two birds with one stone’ kind of thing for them. Read about this giant beast - kinda like the one we’re planning - and get some education in at the same time.”

“Wait, did they make you read a lot?”

“A lot of stuff I read by choice, just to keep busy and feel a little less alone, I guess, but they did make me do some school-like things. She did, I should say.”

Theo’s talked about her before, The Geneticist, out of the three. A woman was under that mask, and it could be said that she cared more about him than the other two. She saw him as a boy, under all the experimentation. A child, who needed to be raised and taught, despite the environment in which they existed.

Of course, though, she was as dedicated to the cause as the men were. She bonded to Theo - though it was mostly one-sided - and taught him what was necessary for him to grow up into an intellectual man, just like how he was as the boy they’d stolen.

She was also the one that selected his fake parents, whenever Theo would need to blend into a new town. She’d study them for weeks before the doctors imposed on their lives. Then, if they failed in any possible way, she would be the one to handle their fates.

“Wait, so how did that work? In between torture sessions, was she like, ‘hey, and this is the wrench I’ll be using on his teeth. You might use it someday to change a tire’?” Liam asks, then curses himself for being insensitive.

Theo snorts, unbothered by Liam’s impulsivity. He can’t help his curiosity, nor the speed in which he blurts out questions. “I mean… to an extent? She’d explain the tools they’d use and the science behind their experiments. But like, not every minute was spent torturing kids, so she had some time to actually sit me down and make me learn.”

“So you’ve technically graduated, but through the school of Three Mean Doctors in Gas Masks.”

“I guess so. But remember they’re from 1700s France, so… there’s a disadvantage there.”

“Oh. Oh my god, I forgot about that part.”

“They stayed somewhat in the loop of modern times. Enough so that they could blend in and continue their work. Plus, outside forces coming in exposed them to more present events. Garrett, in the 1940s. Malia’s mom, mid 2000s-ish.”

“Right. So-”

A knock on the door startles both of the boys. Before Theo can call out, Dr. Geyer’s voice comes out clearly on the other side. “Theo? You almost done?”

“Shit, is that my dad?”

“Yeah.” He lifts the phone away for a second. “Yes, sorry. I’ll be out in a moment.” Turning his attention back to Liam, he sighs. “Okay, Little Wolf. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Honestly, I forgot why I called.”

A wave of relief washes over the older boy. “That’s alright. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. God, school is so boring. I can’t wait for practice.”

“Score a goal for me. I lo-”

“Wait, Theo?”

“Hm?”

“I remembered why I called.”

“Are you okay?”

Liam takes a shaky breath. “I think so. Your voice- hearing it- talking to you helps.”

“I’m always here for you.”

“I know. Thank you.”

“You gonna be okay if I go back to work?”

“Yeah. I love you.”

“I love you too, Li.”

“Have fun listening to people cough.”

“Have fun reading about Grendel.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

Liam begrudgingly drags his feet to his appointment. His dad didn’t even bother to tell him he made one until an hour to time, interrupting his midday Saturday catnap to do so, and quizzing him on useless biology facts the whole way.

“C’mon, I know you have a test on Monday. Let’s go.”

“Mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.”

“Liam. That is not what I asked.”

“I don’t know anything about blood pH or whatever you said.”

He sighs. “Why are you being so stubborn lately? You don’t put up a fight when Theo quizzes you on homework.”

“That’s because Theo rewards me with-” he stops suddenly, shutting his mouth.

“Don’t even finish that sentence,” his dad says anyway.

“I was gonna say with candy.”

“No you weren’t.” His tone is joking, but Liam’s not in the mood for it, lighthearted or otherwise. He hates the medication and his parents know that, and now, they’re scheduling him appointments again? The only thing worse than dealing with his anger is talking about it.

“Hey,” his dad nudges him gently. “It’ll be okay. Just a check up. Nothing major.”

His mom asked Theo to stay behind and help prepare for dinner, separating them at the time Liam needs him most. Whether she did that on purpose or not, he isn’t sure, but it sure feels like it was.

They pull into the parking lot and Liam already feels his blood pressure rising. He needs Theo to anchor him - that’s all he needs, not this stupid medication. It only makes him worse. They don’t understand. He’d be totally fine if he could just talk to-

“Liam, c’mon.”

He takes a deep breath and exits the car. He swipes the nail bed of his pointer finger under his teeth, cleaning out a bit of dried blood he’d missed earlier.

“Liam.”

“I am.”

He digs his best smile out from the vault - the one for his therapist, that he hasn’t used in years - and participates just enough to fool her that everything’s fine.

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

“Did you tell her about the… y’know?”

“Of course not. I don’t want to go to Eichen.” Theo sighs. “What? Do you think I should’ve?”

“No, but I think you should mention it to someone… your mom?”

“Oh, hell no. She’ll worry. And clearly, she’s already worried enough with the werewolf stuff. I can’t freak her out more.”

“Li, I’m worried. I don’t like the way this medication’s making you feel. I think you need to get off it-”

“No shit-”

“-and telling her will get you off it.”

“With my luck, they’ll up my dose even more.”

“Liam, please.”

“I can’t hurt her!”

“You’re hurting yourself!” Liam was going to say more, but Theo’s words cause his own to die in his throat. “This medication is literally causing you to hurt yourself because it’s making you so depressed, you’re having trouble coping with it. I know bad coping mechanisms, Liam, I’ve been there. I can’t sit by and watch this happen to you, knowing a huge contributor is that medication, and I know if your mom knew that, she’d do anything to help you get clean again. Just trust her! She cares for you, Li. Like I do, she loves you. Your dad loves you, and Mason, and Corey. None of us like seeing you in pain, and everyone can tell you are, even though I’m the only one that knows the extent of it.”

Liam stuns. His words have so much weight. Theo’s right, as much as it breaks his heart to hear. He isn’t only hurting himself, but those around him, too. Theo, the boy he always swore to protect. Mason, by keeping him in the dark this whole time.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel guilty,” Theo continues, responding to his silence. “I don’t want to make you feel that way at all. I just want you to know you have people who love you and will listen. Because, I love you, but I can only do so much. I can comfort you, I can clean your hands, and ease you into sleep, but I can’t get you off those meds, okay? You need to tell your parents.”

“Okay.” He finally agrees, hands trembling. Theo grabs them, and like before, kisses his fingertips gently, lovingly. “Can you help me?”

“Of course I can help you.”

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

The next evening when both his parents are home, the boys come down together from a ‘study session’ and take to the two chairs they usually occupy in the kitchen. Their knees touch slightly, anchoring each other in the time of uncertainty, and wait for Jenna’s attention to be available. She turns off the stove, then faces them.

“Hey boys. Studying going well?”

“Y-yeah.” Instead of studying, they’ve been going over this plan for the last two hours, but yeah, he guesses it went well, considering they’ve found the confidence to address the issue.

“Good, good.” Her eyes bounce between them. “Everything okay?”

“Um-”

“You didn’t break up, did you?”

“What?! No!”

“Oh. Thank god. I got worried for a minute.”

“Nothing like that. Mom, can I talk to you and dad both for a minute? It’s kind of important.”

“Of course, honey. David? Come here for a second, please.”

Liam knocks his knee into Theo’s, who smiles at Jenna for a moment before looking back down at the table. His sudden silence, despite encouraging Liam to talk about this in the first place, is not appreciated.

“Yeah, on my way,” David says, getting up from the couch in the living room.

“You’re an ass,” Liam mutters to Theo.

“I didn’t say anything!”

“That’s exactly why!”

“What’s up, boys? Everything okay?”

“Um, yeah-” Theo bumps his knee into Liam, who stutters, “-actually, um, no. Not really.”

“Okay, what’s wrong, sweet? School alright?”

“School’s fine. Everything’s fine. Ish. I-”

“Liam,” Theo urges.

“I’m trying!”

David and Jenna grow concerned by the minute. Both have their eyebrows furrowed and their full attention on the couple. Theo’s tempted to jump in and start for him, but fears Jenna’s reaction if he does.

“I, um, I guess, it’s-”

“Liam,” his mom sighs. “Are you okay? Did you remember your-”

“Yes, I took my meds today,” he interrupts, receiving the same stare Theo got about a week prior. “And that’s kind of the problem.”

Jenna sighs. She looks to Theo, then back at her son, head shaking in disapproval. “Liam, you agreed you’d take them again, for your safety, since we don’t know much about this supernatural stuff.”

“That’s the thing, though. The meds don’t help. They make it worse. I mean, not worse, really. They make me tired, so I don’t really have the energy to be mad, but lately, I don’t have a reason to be mad, so I’m tired for no reason.”

“Okay, I get that. I totally do. But it’s more of a preventative measure than anything else. What if something happens at practice? Or at a game?”

“Well that’s why I have Theo. Well, not the whole reason, obviously, but a large part of it.” He makes the mistake of glancing over at the boy, who’s now chuckling and gently shaking his head. It makes him smile. “Werewolves have these things called anchors that help them control their turns. I mentioned it awhile back, before the meds.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Anchors can be anything from an object, or a mantra, or even another person, and Theo’s that for me. Whenever I’m angry, or at risk of turning, all I need to do is call him, or hear him, or frankly, just think about him, and I can control it. Or, if I’m struggling, he can always bonk me over the head, which has happened, but only in an extreme situation, where-”

“Liam.”

“Sorry.” He thanks Theo for the mini anchor right there - bringing him out of his rambling and back to the present. He looks to his parents again. “I don’t need the meds when I have Theo. He helps me with my anger more than any chemical drug ever could.”

Jenna shakes her head. “I’m glad you two have that trust in each other, but you have to take them, Liam. Your I.E.D. put you at enough risk without the extra strength of being a werewolf. I don’t want to take the chance.” She turns to Theo. “Did you put this in his head? That he doesn’t need it?”

“I-”

Theo starts to defend himself, but Liam cuts him off. “Mom. He only helped me admit what I couldn’t bring myself to admit. The meds didn’t help two years ago, which is why I stopped taking them. They’re doing more harm than good, and I don’t want to take them anymore.”

“What’s that mean? They help you, Liam. That’s what they’re for.”

“But they don’t.” He sighs. “Mom, you can’t freak.”

“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

“I-” Theo nudges his knee gently, urging him on. “I don’t like the way they make me feel. I’m tired, too tired to play lacrosse, too tired to focus in school.”

“You’ve only been on them for a month. You’ll adapt.”

“You’re not listening,” he snaps, looking to his dad for direction. His understanding expression helps a little. He’s pro-medication, obviously, but also knows not every drug works for every situation. Jenna knows this, too - Liam knows, deep down - and she just wants the best for him, but it’s hard for her to understand this route isn’t the best. He knows the next thing he has to say will be even harder to hear, but he knows he has to say it. He has to come clean. It’s the only way to help him find what’s truly best for him.

“This medication’s messing with my head,” he continues. “I don’t have proof, but it’s bad for me.”

“What does that mean? ‘You don’t have proof’?”

“I… it’s been making me depressed, and I haven’t really been dealing with it in the right way.”

“What are you talking about, Liam?” His dad asks, concern etched on his face. He knows, Liam knows he knows, he’s just anxiously waiting for his worst fear to be confirmed.

“I, um,” he glances at Theo. “Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“Remember when you told me that people either hurt others or they hurt themselves?”

“I do.”

“Well, before, when I couldn’t control my anger, I took it out on others. But ever since turning, I don’t anymore. Unfortunately, that kinda only leaves me with the other option.” He pauses, avoiding eye contact with his mom who’s slowly realizing what he means. “And a lot of the time, Theo helps me control the urges, and I can fight it, but sometimes, I’m too embarrassed to admit it even to him, but he’s the reason I’m telling you. He’s given me the confidence to tell you. I just… I don’t want to keep hurting the people I love, and he’s made me realize that by hurting myself, I’m doing exactly that, and to be honest, I hate doing it to myself, too.” He looks at Theo, again. “Was that okay?”

The older boy rubs his back comfortingly. “Yeah, little wolf. You did a good job.”

He nods, turning his head once more. “Mom?”

Her eyes are watery as the truth sinks in. The words are like a hundred bricks sitting in her chest. “Show me your arms.”

Liam outstretches his arms, skin clear of any scars or blemishes. “We heal really quickly. Honestly, that’s part of the problem. If I had a scar to show for it, it’d probably be easier to stop, but…”

Jenna takes both of his wrists and examines closely. His skin is as soft as always, not a scar in sight. “Where did you do it?”

“Along here,” he points to the underside of his arms, elbow to wrist.

“With what?”

“My claws, mostly.” Jenna stifles a sob. “Are you mad at me? I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

She shakes her head. “No, baby, I’m not mad.” Jenna quickly makes her way around the counter to embrace him in a hug. “God, I’m not mad. Oh! Baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t realize sooner.” She kisses his head, once, twice, three times.

“You can’t blame yourself,” Liam says, “I hid it on purpose. I didn’t even mean for Theo to find out, he just… did.”

“Oh!” Jenna’s crying. He can feel her tears on his cheek. Her hands cradle his wrists as if they could shatter. Out of the corner of his eye, Liam can see his dad offering a sympathetic look. He waits for his wife to let go of their son, then gives him a hug of his own. Jenna then wraps her arms around Theo, kissing the side of his head. He freezes from the unexpected contact.

“Mom,” Liam calls for her attention, sensing his change in heart rate.

“I’m sorry. Thank you for being there for him. For paying attention to things we didn’t notice.” She lets them both go and circles back around the counter, though reaches across the granite to hold Liam’s hands in her own. She rubs his palms, softly massages his skin, and he can’t help but melt into her touch.

“Liam’s my anchor as much as I’m his. I mean, my… species, I guess, differs in that we don’t turn on full moons, but he helps whenever I’m angry or upset. Helps ground me back into a normal resting heart rate.”

Liam notices he doesn’t say something self-destructive like, Tara’s resting heart rate, and smiles. He’s healing, and learning to accept himself, and Liam’s helping him do that.

“So the anchor stuff you were talking about is really effective? If you’re feeling angry, Theo can calm you down?”

“Yeah.”

“What about before? You said you were turned at the start of freshman year, but you two didn’t start to get close until midway last year.”

“Before then, I had a mantra that Scott taught me. And then for a while, nothing worked, and I was struggling a little, but then, against my will, it became Theo.”

“Against your will,” Theo mutters, shaking his head but smiling.

“Yeah, you were a rat back then. I was so mad when I realized your dumbass calmed me down. And the fact that you already knew made it so much worse.”

“You’re easy to read, Dunbar.”

No, you’re just… overly observant.”

“Yeah, but you’re also easy to read. Especially when you’re angry.”

“Can you tell you’re making me angry right now?”

“Yeah,” he says, matter-of-factly.

“Yeah? Well what are you gonna do about it?” Theo stares at him. His parents watch in silence, not sure how to intervene or if they even should. “You just gonna stare at me?” Liam eggs on. “Really? You’re just gonna watch. Do nothing? I’m gonna go- I’m gonna go break that lamp over there, you see it?”

“Sure you are.”

“I am.” Liam starts to get up, but then sits back down. “Stop watching me.”

“Can’t. Sorry.”

“I’m gonna break your face.”

“Go for it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“You’re a little drama queen sometimes.”

Liam rolls his eyes, then shifts to sit with his leg tucked underneath himself. Theo chuckles, but says nothing.

“Today Coach asked me if I had a twin and if we’d traded places, ‘because I was unusually slow and looked like I’d just crawled out of a rabbit hole’.”

“I’m gonna break Coach’s face.”

“Scott would kill you.”

“Scott doesn’t have good odds against me.”

Liam laughs, but then his eyes go wide at the memory and he covers his mouth in embarrassment. “Okay, topic change.”

“If you were a twin, the doctors might’ve taken you,” Theo continues, completely immersed in his banter with Liam and forgetful of the adults’ presence.

“They did take me.”

“They returned you for being annoying.”

“You rescued me, dumbass.”

“Oh, right. Wonder if I have a receipt.”

“I hate you.”

“Okay, boys,” Jenna interrupts. She can’t help but smile at how such a serious conversation has turned into a playful argument between the two. Maybe Liam will be okay without his meds. He has been for three years, without her knowledge. Maybe she overreacted a little too much. “Liam? I’m gonna need you to promise me something.”

“Mhm?”

“If we take you off the meds, you promise to get clean again? Come to one of us if you’re having trouble. Let me know if you do relapse again. Let me know when you’re feeling upset, if Theo’s not around, so I can help you get a hold of him.”

“Okay. I promise.”

“Okay, and let Mason know, when you’re ready, just so he knows.”

“I know, I just didn’t want to disappoint him. Plus, the less people that know, the better.”

“I understand.” Jenna squeezes his hands again. “Oh, baby. I should’ve listened to you about the anchor thing. I just didn’t understand at the time. I especially shouldn’t have upped your dose, but was afraid the typical dose wouldn’t be enough, but it just made everything worse!”

“It’s okay, Mom.”

“It isn’t okay! And you tried to tell me, and I wasn’t listening.” She nods at Theo.

“Well the important thing is that we all know, now, right? Liam can get off those meds and play without Coach throwing insults at him that might be incidentally risking his life.”

“Exactly right.” She smiles at the older boy. “Thank you.” Jenna then chuckles at the second part. “Thank you for protecting him.”

“We protect each other.” It’s cheesy, but it means the world to all of them, Theo included.

“And this time, you were protecting us, too,” David nods to him. The talk may have ended on a light note, but if it was never addressed, it could’ve had a very dark ending. David’s seen dangerous scars. He doesn’t know the depth of his son’s, but with claws, he knows the damage could’ve been worse than anything he’s seen. As for Jenna, he can’t even imagine how she feels. She’s probably wishing she argued to hug Theo for longer.

Theo smiles, but he clearly doesn’t know how to answer that. He isn’t used to being praised, despite hearing it quite often from Liam’s parents. This situation, though, is new. This is emotional. This affects more than just him and the person he’s trying to protect.

“You’re a good kid,” David continues.

Theo just nods. Liam leans over quickly and presses a kiss to his forehead. His parents smile at his inner conflict to accept the praise, while trying to give him more without it being overwhelming. He doesn’t counter it, though, which is progress from last time, so they leave it at that.

⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆⋅⋆

That night, with everyone off from work, the found family takes to the living room for a movie. The married couple make themselves comfortable on one couch, and the boys curl up on another. Liam’s heavy school binder, flipped to his English notes, sits between his legs - his dad and Theo both are forcing him to study during the intro credits, making him groan with annoyance.

“Alright, riddle me this-”

“No-”

“What weapon did Beowulf use to kill Grendel?”

“Nothing. He just used his hands, or whatever.”

“Right, good. And how many geats did Grendel kill?”

“Just the one.”

“There you go. And this woman, Asc - crap - Ace-”

“Aceshere.”

“Thank you. What’s her role in the story?”

“She’s kidnapped and killed by Gretel’s mom.”

“Grendel.”

“Oops.”

“It’s okay.”

Every time Liam gets the question right, Theo praises him and kisses the back of his head.

After two more, his arms snake up to rest around Liam’s neck to pull him closer. He points to another question on the study sheet. “That guy, what’s his name?”

“Hrothgar.”

“Yeah. How did-”

“I thought you’ve read this book. Why can’t you pronounce anything?”

“I read it when I was, like, eleven, Liam. Give me a break.”

“Oh.”

“From whom did that guy descend? And how did he know Beowulf?”

“Sheepshear. And he knew him because he was friend’s with his dad, or something.”

“Close enough, yeah. Shearson, I think.”

“Wait, but wouldn’t the doctors not like this book because the dragon’s defeated?”

“See, I asked that, but she said no, because the Beast had been defeated similarly, and so it was kind of a lesson for them to not repeat old mistakes.”

“Oh. I guess I see that.”

Jenna and David listen carefully to their chatter. They know the basics of Theo’s past, but he hasn’t told them as much as Liam obviously knows; they have no idea to whom she could possibly be referring, but whomever she is, Theo’s grown comfortable talking about her, and Liam listens intently, so that’s good enough for them.

They’re proud of them both, for surviving the things they have, and for coming out of them stronger. They’re proud of them for learning to rely on each other, through war and after it.

Liam knows it, that they’re proud, but they can tell Theo still has trouble processing it.

He’s a work in progress, but Jenna has to admit, so is Liam, and they’re dedicated to both.

They’re especially proud of them, now, handling not only supernatural threats, but those that threaten them much more personally. Theo has obvious trauma, and Liam’s battled his IED for years, but they help each other through it.

When the last commercial plays on the old DVD, the cheery music that opens the movie begins to play. Jenna sighs a little, enjoying watching the boys interact more than she likes to admit. She likes seeing them happy and healthily co-dependent.

Theo acknowledges the change in music faster than Liam does. He prods him on the shoulder and kisses his head at the same time.

“Alright, movie’s starting, you can stop now.”

“Thank god.” Liam closes his binder and drops it on the ground with a thud that makes his mom jump.

“Liam!”

“Sorry,” he says, without much apology in his tone. “What are we watching, again?”

“The Conjuring,” Theo jokes.

“What?!” Liam whips his head around in distress, eyes wide.

“I’m kidding! It’s The Parent Trap.”

“God, I hate you!” He turns back and slumps his chest against Theo’s hard, making the boy short with breath.

“Jeez, Li.”

“Sorry.” There’s a little more sympathy this time, considering Liam can hear the lack of air in his lungs from his small voice. “I love you, actually.”

“I know.” Theo finds his hands from underneath the blanket and pulls them up to kiss his fingers. “I love you, too. Actually.”

“Shut up.”

#liam dunbar x theo raeken #liam dunbar x theo raeken fanfic #thiam fic #thiam fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #tw: sh #tw: implied s3lf h4rm

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