The Fault is Not In The Stars But In Ourselves

To Fight The Wolf Within, Before More Blood Spills

Liam gripped at Theo's shirt, raising his lip into a low snarl. They were still on the ground, Liam practically pinning Theo there under him. The pulse of the shift hung thickly in the air. Theo could practically feel it beating against Liam's skin by how close they were.

"I knew it. I fucking knew it," Liam hissed, quiet and dark. "Big bad Chimera Theo Raeken. Always the danger, never the victim. Always the bully, never the bullied. Always the traitor, always the spy. But you're not, are you? You talk a big game, like you're not scared–like this place doesn't absolutely terrify you–but it does, doesn't it?"

Liam tightened his grip on Theo's shirt, then pulled it up just to slam Theo harshly back down. "Doesn't it!" His back slammed into the ground with a thud, sending white-hot pain through his body.

Theo blinked up at Liam, his eyes wide. His mind was still buffering, buffering, buffering. Maybe he hit his head on the way down, because he couldn't wrap his head around this person on top of him–couldn't even recognize him. There was something burning behind Liam's eyes–something dark, something murderous.

The thing is, Theo's seen enough venomous looks from Liam. He knew what Liam looked like when he was angry–hell, he knew what he looked like when he was prepared to get violent.

This wasn't it. There was just... there was something about his eyes, or maybe his scent, that was off. That was wrong.

"'Oh no, don't worry, everything's fine. I'm fine. It's fine.'" Liam mimicked, but his voice was low–dangerous. "I knew you were lying. You're always lying. It's like every fucking word out of your mouth is nothing but pretty lies. You don't even know how to tell the truth, do you?" Liam shook him. "Do you?"

Theo grimaced from the pain. "Liam–"

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Liam demanded, cutting him off. He only waited a second, or two, before shaking Theo again. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me? Why–" Liam cut off as his voice cracked.

There it was–that something wrong. Theo could see it now, as clear as day: Liam's eyes were glistening.

Liam bent his head down, the shift slowly dissipating from the air. Still, his grip stayed tight on Theo.

"I... I could've helped. You didn't have to keep it to yourself." Liam sounded angry, but his voice had lost all of its bite. "You could've asked for help, you fucking asshole."

There was a stench permeating from Liam, something that clung to him so completely that it was all Theo could smell. Something an awful lot like grief.

Theo swallowed, doing his best to not gag on the scent that clogged his nostrils.

Liam, he... he was grieving. He was almost crying.

Liam was almost crying over him.

Bile rose up Theo's throat as realization dawned on him. His skin was crawling at Liam's touch, at how close they were–at the vulnerable intimacy. He hated it, he hated it.

No one deserved Liam's tears. No one.

Especially him.

Letting out a low growl, Theo knocked Liam's hands off of him. Then, he grabbed onto Liam's arms, smearing blood on Liam's jacket as he did so. Using all of his strength, he flipped them over so that he was on top.

"Are you insane? You think you should help me? What, you want me to just sit here with you, sing kumbaya and talk about my trauma?" He asked, angry. Despite the dull ache in his body and tiredness seeping into his bones, he willed the shift forward–forced gold to slip into his irises. "Do you even remember who I am? What I've done? Do you even remember what I did to you–to your pack? I tried to kill Scott. I tried to get you to kill Scott. Don't you understand that? I did that! Me! I..."