Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s a Tuesday when it happens. They’re walking back to Mason’s house after school, the sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and then Liam starts literally levitating.

It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. One second, Liam is trudging alongside the road, backpack hanging lazily off one shoulder, and then, boom! There’s this sparkling yellow light all around him, and he’s—well, it’s like Mason said, he’s levitating, like, six inches off the ground. At one point Mason almost swears he can see the form of a dirty blonde white dude, shimmery, like a mirage, within the halo surrounding Liam. And then it all compacts into this pulse that shoots directly into Liam’s chest, and Liam promptly falls flat on his face.

Mason is initially too shocked to react. His feet root themselves to the ground, and he swears he’s still blinking sparkles out of his eyes. But as soon as his brain catches up, like hey, wait a minute, maybe I should help Liam up, like, right now!— Liam scrambles to his feet. His eyes are blown wide, his arms pinwheeling about, and no sooner does he get back to a fully erect position does he start to keel right back over. This time, Masons’ feet obey him, and he rushes forward, catching Liam by the armpits. “Whoa, whoa whoa,” Mason says. “Are you—are you okay?”

“I can’t smell you—why can’t I smell you?” is the only mumbled response Mason gets.

Mason jerks backward so he can better look Liam in the eye. “What?”

Liam doesn’t seem to hear him, and his breathing picks up.  “I can’t—everything’s so quiet— what is happening—” Then Liam looks up at Mason for the first time, and he freezes. “Mason?”

“Yeah, Liam, it’s me,” Mason frowns.

“That can’t be,” Liam mumbles. Then he appears to do a double take. “Mason? ” he repeats.

Mason is starting to get the idea that something may be very wrong here. “Yeah, who else?” he attempts, trying for a grin.

Liam stares. One of his hands twitches, like he wants to reach out and touch Mason. Mason is reminded strikingly of someone who doesn’t know if they are dreaming or awake. Mason’s grin dies.

“Liam,” Mason says as he pulls slowly backwards, bringing his hands up, palms facing forward in a placating gesture. “It’s me, Liam. What is—what are you…”

Liam suddenly whirls on his feet, looking all around him with wide eyes, before stilling once more. “Mason,” he says, slow and suddenly serious. “Where are we?”

Mason blinks. “Uh, the road? On the way to my house? Like, Beecher Street?”

“And what’s today’s date?”

“November. November 19th.”

Liam just looks at Mason, like he’s waiting for Mason to go on. Then he says, “I mean, like, the year, too.”

“... 2013. Liam, what are you—”

“And we’re freshmen?” Liam leans forward at this, with such urgency and intensity that Mason finally cracks. 

“Okay, Liam, you’re really starting to freak me out. Did you hit your head—” Mason pointedly tries to ignore the more obvious answer, the freaky sparkles and levitation, because he wants to maintain some sort of sanity here— “or something, because I swear you’re talking exactly like time travelers in the movies—”

“Yes, exactly!” Liam cries. “Exactly like that. Time travelers.” 

Mason doesn’t know what his face looks like now, but it must be the most contorted expression of confusion and shock he’s ever made. “Are you—you’re saying you’ve time traveled.”

Liam runs a hand down his face, his eyes staring off into the distance as if he hadn’t heard. “Time travelers,” he mumbles. “Time—ohhhhhh shit.” Then he drops down into a squat and stares at the scrawny, dust-laden grass and gravel at the side of the road like it’s his two-day-late essay. And keeps staring. 

Mason stares at Liam, and they both stay like that for what feels like a full minute. And sometime during that stupor, the pieces of Mason’s brain put themselves back together in a new configuration, and a new piece that suddenly accepts the existence of some sort of magical time time travel slots itself snugly into place right next to the pre-existing, everlasting faith Mason has in his best friend in the whole world.

And then Mason extends a hand, and says, “Let’s get home first.”

Chapter Text

Everything feels so wrong. 

Liam had wondered, now and again, what it would feel like to be human again. Longingly, during full moons; perhaps less longingly, when face to face with berserkers and chimeras and Beasts of Geveaudans, oh my. He didn’t anticipate the sheer sense of loss and dullness , like the whole world has been drained of half its color, and Liam is walking around in a thick cloud of rusted gunmetal gray, wrapping itself around his ankles and wrists and making every step drag. He keeps straining his ears to listen to Mason’s heartbeat, but getting absolutely nothing, and then there’s a moment of panic, where is my friend has he been taken, followed by the inevitable oh, right .

Liam tries to muster up enough of a façade of polite normalcy to greet Small Mason’s parents, but as soon as he enters Mason’s bedroom and they close the door behind them, he sways a little on his too-short legs, as though ready to collapse again.

Liam doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do in this situation. It hadn’t been a topic in any McCall Pack briefing; there had been no lesson from Scott or Stiles for what to do if you were fighting an unknown kind of seelie and you find yourself back in the body of your fourteen-year-old self, without any trace of the seelie or strategy for how to get back to the present. Liam huffs out a half-crazed laugh. Wherever the pack thought the seelie was taking its victims, it was definitely not this. At least this information would narrow down Lydia, Stiles, and Mason’s attempts to figure out which seelie this was–

—Liam’s stomach drops. But they aren’t here. At least, not his version of Lydia, Stiles, Mason. They aren’t here, and Liam doesn’t have a way to contact them. The Stiles and Lydia of right now don’t even know him. The Scott of right now doesn’t even know him.

And none of the seelie’s victims have yet been seen again. 

The memory from right before he'd woken up here surges before his mind's eye. The seelie had given out this sibilant hiss, that almost sounded like words, like it was trying to tell him something... but if so, it was in a language he couldn't understand. Its bottomless eyes bored into him, and... and then he can't remember anything else.

“ Motherfucker,” Liam whispers, with feeling, and he sinks down onto Mason’s bed.

He’s alone, in 2013. No supernatural contacts. And no wolf powers . Liam’s stomach sinks even further. Werewolf-ing is the part Liam is the best at. Give him a clear enemy to fight, and someone to protect, and Liam can jump in, head-first, and get the job done. He’s not Stiles or Lydia, or his present’s version of Mason, he doesn’t know how to track down the seelie with nothing but smart detective work instead of by scent; and he’s not Scott, he’s not the one who keeps everyone going even when it looks like all hope is lost. Liam is quite possibly one of the worst members of the pack to get himself stuck in this kind of situation. And the skills he did have, his thing that he could bring to the table, is gone.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder. Liam jumps.

“Sorry!” Small Mason squeaks, and he jerks backward. 

“No, it’s okay, Mason, I…” Liam feels his chest constrict at the mixture of nerves, wonder, and concern on this achingly young version of his best friend’s face. “I’m… thinking.”

Mason keeps his gaze on him. A couple seconds tick by, and then Liam reads Mason’s expression a little better, and realizes Mason is just dying trying not to ask him a litany of questions.

Liam’s lips quirk into the ghost of a fond smile. “I’m from 2017.”

Mason’s eyes light up. “Coooool,” he breathes. 

And then Liam finds himself telling Mason everything.

He probably says all of it in the exact wrong order. He starts with the seelie—he starts rambling about what it looked like, with the stereotypical pointy ears but also weirdly long, spindly fingers, a nose that jutted out, and all of it at terrifyingly just-left-of-center-kind-of-wrong angles, and then he has to clarify that the seelie was a shapeshifter like himself, since clearly creatures like this couldn’t just exist out in the world without people noticing, so that’s why no one has noticed they’re real. But Mason clearly picks up on the “shapeshifters like yourself? ” part of that ass-backwards ramble, and then Liam is plunging into the full-on Werewolf 101 talk. This young Mason takes it in in an eerily similar way to the way Liam’s Mason had, and Liam has to look away from the rapt look on his face. 

Then Liam goes over how the Bite went down–the hospital roof, and the wendigo— “Intense,” Mason says—and then he’s launching into the dead pool, and the Argents versus the Hales, and the Dread Doctors—he skips over the library and Beast, because this Mason doesn’t need to know all that—and then it’s the Ghost Riders, and the Anuk-Ite, and Monroe. At some point in all this, Mason gets stuck on the fact that Liam’s Alpha is Scott McCall, the junior captain of the Beacon Hills High lacrosse team. Liam’s heart twinges as Mason reminds him how much Liam used to secretly look up to Scott even then, based on nothing but reputation and lacrosse. 

“I guess it’s pretty cool,” he says, smiling ruefully. “I couldn’t have asked for a better Alpha.”

“Wait…” Mason frowns. “Doesn’t that mean he got Captain by cheating?”

“No!” Liam denies instantly. 

Mason’s lips twitch. “Sure.”

Liam glares at him. “He’s got a rule. No wolf powers on the field. He gets us benched if we break it.”

“But how do you know he follows it himself?”

“Because he actually kind of sucked for the first half of tryouts, the semester I transferred to Beacon Hills High.” Liam chuckles a little at the memory. “Kept missing the goal.”

“But not the second half.”

“No—no, but that still doesn’t mean he started cheating! I didn’t know about werewolves then, but I know what cheating looks like, and that wasn’t it—”

“But it’s like you just said, he sucked, and then suddenly he didn’t!” Mason said, with an air of triumph.

“He was executing perfectly non-supernatural blocks! I even got past him once!”

“And then he completely non-supernaturally hit you so hard he sent you to the hospital?”

“No—I mean, yes—ugh!” Liam growls (or tries to growl, but of course the sound that comes out is only human), clenching his fists. 

Mason laughs at him softly, before giving him a thoughtful look. “You sound like he’s—like, your role model, or something.”

“Yes, he is,” Liam says, completely serious. Mason looks like he wasn’t expecting the candor, but really, Liam would never lie about how he feels about Scott. “He changed  my life.”

“By… biting you?”

“By giving me a purpose.” Liam sits up straighter. “Scott, and his pack, we protect Beacon Hills. It’s what he’s always done, and it’s what I learned to do, too. And yeah, the last three years have been the craziest, and hardest, years of my life, but what we do–there’s nothing out there that has more… meaning, I guess. Before I met Scott, I mean, you know me, you know about all the anger, and I had nowhere to put it. But now I can channel it to fight. Fight for something good.” Then Liam remembers his predicament, and corrects himself. “Um, I used be able to fight,” he whispers. Past tense.

Mason nods consideringly. “Fair,” he says. Then he shifts his feet. “So, uh, Back-to-the-Future Liam… what are you going to do now?”

Liam deflates a little, staring down at his hands. Yeah, good question. “I-I don’t know. Normally, I’d…” Normally? Well, Liam had already gone through what he’d do normally, in great detail. And none of it was an option.

“But what are you going to do now ,” Mason prompts.

“I…” Liam laces and unlaces his hands. “I just wish I could ask Scott,” he mutters. “But…”

But, actually, maybe that wasn’t still a bad idea.

“I could go to Scott,” Liam murmurs. He racks his brain. What was Scott’s pack doing right now? It was the semester right before Liam had gotten bit. And right before Liam had become a part of things, they were fighting the thing that killed—

“Allison,” Liam gasps. “The N-Nagi whatsit. The Japanese fox demon thing.” He stands up. “I could go help.”

Mason, for his part, looks a little brain-scrambled again. Liam spares a half thought on a mental apology. “Liam, I thought you said Scott doesn’t know you right now.”

“No it’s perfect,” Liam says, starting to pace. “I can save Allison. I mean, I might as well, right?” Liam turns back to Mason. “It’s exactly what Scott would do if he were back in the past like this!”

“Uh-huh?” says Mason.

“Oh, and then they might trust me enough to help me get back!” Liam grabs his backpack and makes for the door.

There’s a tug on his sleeve. “Whoa, whoa, hold on a second. I know I’m not part of, like, Future Liam’s Supernatural Superheroics Timeline, but I’ve seen enough movies to know that usually, you need a plan.”

“I—” Liam sighs. Mason’s completely right. Liam never faced the N-the fox demon, but when Kira told him the story, it sounded like a harrowing enemy. It would be stupid to get involved without a plan.

Liam shrugs off his backpack and digs out a scrap of notebook paper and a pencil. Stiles always starts by writing down all the information he knows, and then all the information he doesn’t know.

“So, tell me about this creature-thing you said they’re fighting,” Mason orders. And, softer, but not softly enough that Liam’s too-human hearing can’t pick it up, Mason adds, “so awesome.”

Chapter Text

Scott’s two bites away from finishing his microwave dinner at 9:48 PM (a downright early dinner for him, compared to the past week) when the sound of footsteps approaching the house reaches his ears. He freezes, tries to analyze their cadence, but they’re unfamiliar to him. The steps keep coming, until they stop at the front porch, and the doorbell rings.

Scott slowly lowers his fork and rises from his chair. God, he hopes—prays—that it’s not another trick, that the Nogitsune has had its fill of pain for the night. But if it is the Nogitsune, Scott’s at least glad his mom isn’t yet home from her late shift. Scott stalks fluidly to the door, and peers out the peephole.

It’s—it’s a kid. 

He’s white, blond, athletic-looking; a few years younger than Scott. He’s playing with his hands, the scent of nerves wafting off him. Scott inhales deeper, trying to get a better read on the kid, but he doesn’t ascertain much else. 

Scott officially has no idea what this visit is about.

He unlatches the locks and lets the door creak and groan as he slowly pulls it upon.

“Hello?”

The kid’s nervous hands still, and he looks Scott straight in the eye. Scott finds himself instantly struck by how open, hopeful, trusting they are. “Hi, Scott. I know you don’t know me, but—” The kid inhales, exhales. “My name is Liam Dunbar. I’m… from the future.”

Scott’s seen plenty of wild shit at this point in the whirlwind insanity his life has become ever since Peter bit him, but he still finds himself at an utter loss with this one. 

“Look,” Liam says. “I know it sounds absolutely crazy, but you can listen to my heartbeat. I’m telling the truth. I’m part of your pack back in 2017, but there was this seelie, and it was disappearing people, and… uh, turns out, it was disappearing people to the past. Kind of. I’m back in my old body, the one that actually belongs in 2013, so…” Liam looks down and shuffles his feet. “Please. Scott. I need to talk to you.”

Scott finds himself almost recoiling from the pleading familiarity with which Liam says his name. If nothing else, it lends credence to Liam’s claims; that, and the steady heartbeat that Scott listened to, just like Liam had predicted. 

Scott reaches for the screen door, then hesitates. Yes, Liam doesn’t appear to be lying—but Scott has become terribly, intimately familiar with how even his superior senses can be fooled, these past few weeks. 

Liam’s face crumples slightly. “Scott, please. I know you’re in the middle of fighting the—the Japanese fox demon thing. I know you want to save Stiles. I have information that can help.”

Information, directly from the future, on how to beat the Nogitsune…. Scott takes a grounding breath in. It feels entirely too good to be true, like a trap constructed with a particularly sick and silly sense of humor. And yet, there’s something about Liam’s earnest, kicked-puppy demeanor that calls to him. “I—”

“And if you’re about to say something about not messing with the timeline and stuff, you aren’t going to want to leave this one be.” Liam straightens, and suddenly, Scott can see the traces of a fighter, the guarded assurance of someone who’s survived enough life-or-death situations. “If I leave now, and change nothing, one of your friends will die. Let me help.”

Liam’s heart beats steadily, confidently on. It takes a moment for Scott to remember how to breathe.

He opens the screen door. “Come in.”

Liam doesn’t seem to hesitate at all at the invitation, and comes right inside. Scott reaches for the door, but before he knows it, Liam has already closed it, fluidly executing the extra jiggle their finicky door handle needs to fully lock into place. 

Scott freezes, staring. Liam looks up after a moment, and then seems to realize what Scott’s looking at, and he freezes, too.

Jolting himself back into motion, Scott gestures lamely at the sofa. “Uh, take a seat, I guess,” he says.

Liam lowers his head and strides to the sofa, stopping almost exactly at the middle, before sinking hesitantly down onto the cushion. He sits straight, his back not touching the back of the furniture. Scott settles across from him, the movements feeling awkward and stilted. Scott leans forward, his clasped hands across his knees. 

There’s a too-long moment of silence, and then it spills out of him. “Who dies?”

Liam doesn’t meet his eyes. “I, uh—”

“Who. Dies?”

Liam presses his lips together, then his eyes flick to Scott. “Are you sure you want to know?”

There’s no question. “Yes.”

Liam shrinks backwards once more, and he starts worrying with his hands again. A couple seconds pass, before he blurts, “Allison.”

It’s like an instant stab to the chest. Scott sucks in a painful, painful breath. 

Though he still won’t look at Scott, Liam winces. “I’m–I’m sorry. I never met her—obviously, I guess—but there was—there was a pretty big absence, in the group. Everyone missed her. Um, you didn’t talk about her much, but everyone always said she was pretty awesome. And I thought, being sent back here, um, I couldn’t just—not try to save her.”

There’s still the possibility the kid could be a practiced liar. In fact, believing any of this could be dangerous. Scott couldn’t think of a better way to get into his head, to use Allison like this, out of the mouth of another teenager. But something in Scott believes Liam. God, Scott believes him. 

“How?” Scott whispers.

Liam shifts his position slightly. “I do have to warn you, uh, I only know as much as Kira told me, once. She said it was an Oni, but specifically, that the N-Nagi—”

“Nogitsune.”

“No— Nogitsune had somehow taken control of them. Kira said Allison had this one silver arrow in her quiver, and she shot one of the Oni with it, and it actually died. Silver is their weakness,” Liam looks at Scott significantly at this. “That’s how you fight them. But—but then they killed her for it.”

Pain shoots through Scott’s hand, and he realizes that he’s digging his claws into his palm.

“What about Stiles,” he chokes out.

“Stiles is fine,” Liam replies. “The Nogitsune is gone now.”

Scott nods. Okay. He takes a deep breath. Okay. One thing at a time.

Caution first.

“How do I know I can trust you?” And—actually— Scott leans forward. “You said you were a part of my pack. You act like you know me and Kira, but I don’t know anything about you. If I’m going to listen to a word out of your mouth, I need to know who you were to my pack.”

Liam fixes Scott with that earnest, serious expression once more. “I’m your beta.”

“Okay, and who bit you?”

“You did.”

Scott recoils. “I what.”

“You… bit me?” Liam looks thrown, perhaps hurt. Scott swallows down bile and rises from his chair, moving to stand behind it. Scott presses his hands down on the top of the chair’s back and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I was going to die!” Liam interjects. 

Scott shakes his head helplessly. He opens his eyes, and Liam—the kid he bit , apparently, is watching him like Scott’s good opinion is something he waits on—something he needs. 

Like Scott is his Alpha.

Suddenly, Scott is hit with the need to get this kid to understand why that’s a bad thing. “Biting someone… that’s the last thing I’d want. For you, for anyone. ”

Liam is still staring, and something like mild horror creeps into his gaze. 

“When my eyes first turned red, and I knew what I was becoming, I—one of the first things I thought of, was what happened when I was bitten. I was just this kid, messing around in the woods. And then Peter came in, and he Turned me. He didn’t care anything about me, about my life, my wellbeing, anything, all he cared about was power. Because every beta he bit made him stronger. But I had to deal with my life getting turned suddenly upside down, and this—this thing of violence within me, and he could make me—make me shift, and force me to—” Scott shudders.“So I made a vow to myself. I vowed I would never, ever, Turn another human being, because I never wanted anyone to have to go through the nightmare I did.”

Liam shakes his head. “No, Scott, you saved me, when you bit me. I—“

“That isn’t saving anyone—“

“No, Scott, listen!" Liam jumps to his feet and starts pacing as he talks. " It was like this—we were at the hospital, and there was this wendigo, and he said he was hungry , and he grabbed me and dragged me up to the roof to—to eat me.” Scott winces in concern. “And then you got there, and then—I remember this part less, because everything started happening so fast. There was a fight, and the wendigo dropped me off the roof, and you ran to catch me. But then the wendigo kept fighting you, while I was still hanging there, like, fifty feet off the ground—” Liam gestures upward to illustrate the building’s height— “and my grip started slipping. I just couldn’t hold on, and then I was falling again… I knew for sure I was going to die. And that’s when you bit my arm, to stop my fall. I mean, not going to lie, it hurt so bad, but I stopped falling, and then the assassin killed the wendigo and you pulled me back up.” 

Scott stares down at his hands. Liam’s story is messy, imprecise. Scott can hardly visualize it well enough to be sure there was no other way—and there has to have been no other way, for Scott to be able to forgive this distant version of himself… But how could Scott have used his teeth—could he not have used his claws instead?

“Scott. You didn’t have a choice. You saved me,” Liam repeats. 

“You can’t know that for sure,” Scott mutters. “You can’t know there was no other choice.”

“Well, then, maybe I don’t care!” Liam exclaims. “Maybe I would rather be a part of your pack than have gone my way without being able to fight back and protect myself!”

Liam’s gaze has turned to a glare. There’s a spark of anger, there, that wasn’t there before, but it looks all too habitual, natural, for him. And suddenly Scott understands.

“You didn’t just come here because of the information. You came to ask for the Bite.”

“I came here to get home ,” Liam snaps. “And I can’t find and fight the seelie that trapped me here without—” Liam takes a step back, and then forces a calming breath that seems to shudder throughout his body. “Scott, I won’t lie to you and say I don’t want the Bite again. I—I could do so much as a werewolf, I could fight to protect people, and I don’t feel like I’m much use without it. But also, I—I did tell you I was here to help, and I meant it, I’ll help however you want me to. And then I can try to go back.”

Scott shakes his head, a feeling like disappointment pooling in his gut. He wonders when people will stop looking at him, and seeing something to gain from him. He wonders if people will ever stop looking at him, and seeing first the power of a True Alpha.

“If you can help as a werewolf, you can help without it.”

“Scott—”

“Liam, listen to me. I’m not dragging anybody else into the supernatural life, do you understand? It’s a life of constant pain, and being hunted, and I’ve seen it ruin so many lives. Did I, or anyone else, tell you what happened to the betas Derek bit? Do you know their names?”

“I’m not—”

“Do you know their names?”

Liam audibly grinds his teeth. “Isaac,” he says, haltingly. Then, after another moment, “Um, Boyd and… Erica.”

“And the fourth?”

Liam frowns for a moment in seeming confusion, before he seems to remember. “Jackson.”

“And do you know what happened to them?”

Liam scowls and flexes his hands, but he responds readily enough. “Boyd and Erica were killed. Jackson was the kanima. Isaac… left after Allison died.”

Scott’s heart twinges painfully at that piece of information, and he has to bite it down to stay focused. 

“Liam, I can’t in good conscience subject you to that life, even if you say you’ve already lived it. I’ll help you get back to your time as best I can, and while you’re here, you can help me with the intel about the Nogitsune, but that’s it. Outside of that, I want you to go back home. Go to school. Just—live your life.”

Liam lifts his chin in challenge. “No.”

“Liam…” Scott implores, a despairing note slipping into his voice. There’s a heavy sort of sadness creeping in on his heart, watching someone this young, this full of life, choose this path. Then he remembers that the person inside Liam is older than Liam looks, apparently.

“I’m not new to this. It’s been three years, to me. I know what the consequences are, Scott. I’ve dealt with the full moons, I’ve been hunted, I’ve been hurt—a lot—and I’ve seen death. Is it so hard for you to believe it’s still worth it, to me, and that I’d choose it?”

Scott stays silent. 

“And you’re forgetting something about the betas Derek bit, and you when Peter bit you.” Liam leans in closer, intense and earnest. “They had Derek or Peter for an Alpha. They didn’t have you .”

This is a turn Scott didn’t expect, and he stills.

“You always protected me,” Liam continues, eyes imploring, trusting. “You’ve never forced me into doing anything I didn’t want to do. You’re not like them. You helped me be a better person, taught me control. And you taught me that the McCall pack never walks away from a fight when we can save someone. And that’s what this is, okay?” Sighing, Liam lowers his head. “It’s not just about the Bite. I’m staying involved, whether you Turn me or not. This is me trying to save Allison, because she deserves to live. You’d do the same thing. I know you, and I know if you knew you had the chance to help protect people, you could never just go back and—and act like you didn’t know what was going on. You could never just ignore everything. It’s not in your nature. So don’t ask me to do the same. You should understand me when I say I’m not staying out of this fight as long as I can do something to help.”

Not having a proper response, Scott just meets Liam’s gaze for a couple moments more, unable to look away. Scott can’t understand the level of faith Liam seems to have in him. It’s overwhelming; worse, it feels too… right, as though the burden of his faith is inevitable.

Scott moves back to the front of his chair and sits in it. “How did we get the Nogitsune out of Stiles?”

If Liam is thrown by the change of subject, he doesn’t show it. He follows suit and sits back down on the couch. “From all I know, you don’t, actually. It separated itself by… I think it had Stiles barf up this big wad of bandages, or something, and then there were two of them. One was Stiles, and one was the Nogitsune, it just looked like Stiles.”

“Do you know what made the Nogitsune decide to do that?”

Liam shakes his head.

“Do you know any other way of separating Stiles from the Nogitsune?”

Liam looks fairly sheepish at this. “I—I mean, no, I don’t. I’m… basically the worst person to have gotten sent back, because I didn’t live it.”

“It’s okay,” Scott finds himself saying. He rubs his temple. “So then, are you suggesting we wait the Nogitsune out until it separates itself from Stiles on its own?”

Liam grimaces. “Kind of. I mean, yes. Look, the problem is… I don’t know if you encountered this part yet, but Kira said the Nogitsune is obsessed with this Japanese game called Go, that’s kind of like chess. It thinks everything is this big game, and it’s obsessed with strategy. It’s a fox, it’s supposed to outwit you. That makes it really dangerous to show our hand.”

“But we have to change something in order to save Allison.”

“Right, but you guys also won, in the end. That means the best-case scenario is doing everything mostly the same, but saving her from dying. Her and the other guy… Aiden, I think it was?”

“Wait, you’re telling me Aiden died, too?”

Liam’s hands shoot up, baring his palms in a pleading gesture. “I’m sorry! I—I forgot about that part until just now.”

Scott gives himself a moment to try to compartmentalize that, too. He’s so in over his head. He takes a deep breath. “So, your suggestion is?”

“Wait until the Nogitsune separates itself from Stiles. Convince Kira’s mom to call off the Oni—”

“We already tried that,” Scott interrupts. 

Liam blinks. “Oh. But, uh, you could try again?”

Scott shakes his head. “She’s an experienced kitsune. She’s not going to listen to me, an idiot teenage werewolf.”

“…I could try?” Liam offers.

Scott refrains from burying his head in his hands. He’s starting to get why Liam said he was not the best source of future information. 

He tries a different question. “How did it end? How did we beat the Nogitsune?”

Liam perks back up a little. “You bit it, while Kira stabbed it in the heart. She said the paradox did it in—it couldn’t be in a host that was both a fox and a wolf at the same time, so it flew out as a bug, and then you guys caught it in a jar.”

Scott straightens. “Like what the scroll said.” He rummages through his pocket until he finds it, and brings it out. He smooths the edges of the paper, showing it to Liam. “It says to change the host.” 

Liam looks fascinated. “Where did you get that?”

“… the silver pinkie finger of a Yakuza boss. We stole it out of an armored car transport.”

Liam blinks, then gives a grin. “I don’t think I should actually be surprised.”

Scott feels himself respond with a small smile of his own. Something about Liam makes it hard not to smile when Liam smiles—the joy is contagious. But as Scott mulls everything over, he sobers again. “How did we get close enough to the Nogitsune to stab it or bite it?”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t know that part,” Liam admits. “I know the final fight had something to do with the Oni the Nogitsune stole, which we are going to stop from happening, because I’m going to convince Kira’s mom not to let them loose again.” Liam gives Scott a stubborn look at this.

Scott sighs. “I don’t want you trying that.”

“And why not?” Liam challenges. “If I tell her why, that the Nogitsune gets control—“

“She doesn’t know you, Liam.”

“Then you come with me,” Liam decides. “I’ll tell her what I know, and you can do the convincing.”

“I—“ Scott cuts himself off. That sort of chat could go really, really badly, but if—if Allison’s life depends on it… “I’ll think about it.”

“Great,” Liam says. He moves to get up, but then he pauses, seeming to remember something. “Oh, um, one other thing.”

“Yeah?” 

Liam looks trepidatious. Scott’s not sure he’s going to like what comes out of his mouth next. “Uh… you can’t let anyone else know about me. Like, other than Mrs. Yukimura.”

Scott’s eyes narrow. “Liam, if you know my pack, you know that we don’t—”

“I know, I don’t want to ask you to do that to your friends. But, it’s because of the Go thing again. We have to minimize the changes. As long as the Nogitsune doesn’t know about me, I’m not a piece on its game board. I’d be the only thing we have as an element of surprise.”

Oh. That makes an unfortunate amount of sense. There’s a long pause as he thinks it over, but then reluctantly, Scott nods. “So that means—”

“I can’t meet Stiles at all until this is over,” Liam says. 

“You couldn’t meet him right now, anyway,” Scott mutters. “He’s in Eichen House.”

“Wait, Eichen?” Liam’s eyes widen in alarm. “That’s, like, the worst place, ever. He shouldn’t be in there.”

Scott frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Whoever’s running that place, I forgot his name—he killed all these people. And they’ve got that Valack guy in the basement! When he got Lydia, he—that psycho drilled a hole in her head! You—“

“What, what? ” Scott yelps.

“Uh…” Liam chews his lip. “Nevermind. Lydia’s okay, we rescued her, I promise! But just… don’t let them get Lydia. Stiles was fine, I guess.”

“Liam,” Scott starts, forcibly calming his voice. “That doesn’t fill me with any confidence about Stiles.”

“Well, it shouldn’t, I guess,” Liam says. “That place is awful. ”

Scott leans back in his chair, a wave of exhaustion settling over him. “That leaves us with the question of where else we are supposed to put Stiles right now.”

Liam shrugs helplessly. “Yeah, um. I…don’t know.”

“Okay,” Scott acquiesces. “I’ll—I’ll figure something else out.”

There’s dead, awkward silence again, while Scott’s tired mind reels and spins. After a few moments, Liam demonstrates his eerie ability to read Scott uncannily well, and he rises as if to leave, clasping his hands together. “Well, I’ll give you my phone number, and I’ll be on my way. I guess.” He extends a hand, and it takes an embarrassingly long time for Scott to figure out that he means for Scott to hand him his phone. Scott does so, rather hurriedly, and Liam’s fingers fly across the keys with a muttered, only-audible-to-a-werewolf, “This phone is such a dinosaur.” And then before Scott can blink, he’s handed the phone back and is already halfway out the door.

Scott stumbles to his feet before he really knows what he’s doing. “Wait.”

Liam turns to look back. It’s that open, puppyish look again.

“Take care of yourself, Liam,” Scott says.

Liam nods, eyes filled with a sudden flux of emotion. And then he leaves.

Scott stands there for a long time after Liam’s gone. Then he goes back to the kitchen to clean up the forgotten remnants of his dinner.

Chapter Text

Liam had completely, blissfully forgotten about school until it was morning, and Mason was shaking him awake from their impromptu sleepover. And then before he knows it, here he is. Staring back up at the double doors of the entrance to Devenford Prep, and musing that he’d rather be stabbed. Even as a human. Anything other than going back here. 

But Clark Kent always goes back to school, like nothing happened. And so will Liam.

God, Liam wishes Mason were here. He doesn’t know why he ever thought it was a good idea to apply to a school without him.

Someone bodychecks him at his right shoulder, and Liam whirls around, ire instantly spiking. But then he sees who it is. 

It’s Brett.

“Watch it, Dunbar” Brett laughs over his shoulder, and his buddy Jason duly guffaws and elbows him, as if to say, Good one. Liam watches them go, frozen in place. He has to blink afterimages of Brett’s dead body out of his mind’s eye. 

But it’s 2013, and Brett is alive. He’s alive . Liam can save him. 

And maybe… Brett could actually help. He’s another piece on the game board the Nogitsune doesn’t know about. 

Suddenly regaining the use of his legs, Liam stumbles off in the direction in which Brett disappeared, but he doesn’t manage to find him before the bell rings, and Liam has to slink reluctantly to his first class. That is, after he remembers which class he had first, which takes him an embarrassing amount of time. 

Liam will at least see Brett at practice, after school.

School is even more mind-numbingly boring when you’ve been suddenly pushed a few grades back. Liam finds himself doodling scribbles down the margins of his notes more than he ever writes anything. At one point, about halfway through the day, Liam starts to feel bad for the real freshman Liam, because he’s doing a terrible job of taking notes. And then that leads Liam into a crisis, because… can he actually be sure he hasn’t just replaced Younger Liam forever? Does Liam have to repeat almost four years of his life? But then again, if Liam does have a chance of getting sent back to the future, so his younger self can take over again… what right did Liam have to ask for the Bite last night? He’d be leaving his younger self without a say, and then Younger Liam would be stuck as a werewolf for the rest of his life.

The look in Scott’s eyes when he spoke about what it was like, when Peter first bit him… Liam swallows. There was something that felt really wrong, about seeing his alpha so… sad and troubled, like that. Like he was prying into something he shouldn’t. And Liam knows it wasn’t meant that way, but he felt so… rejected by Scott’s horror at the reveal that he’d bitten Liam. Unwanted. 

But at the same time, Scott was right. The supernatural life isn’t one to take lightly, and Liam knows how much it cost him. He is willing to make the sacrifice again, so he can go back to protecting his friends… but what right does he have to make that decision for a younger version of Liam, who only had to worry about making the lacrosse team?

…And his next IED blowup. That too. 

Liam forcibly pushes the incident with Coach’s car, the one that was due to happen only a couple weeks from now, from his mind. 

Liam mopes for the rest of the day. When the bell finally, finally rings, Liam practically sprints to the locker room to get out his lacrosse equipment. As he puts his pads on, Liam finds himself surveying the room near-constantly, looking for Brett, to try to get him alone. But Brett doesn’t deign to show up until literal seconds before Coach blows the whistle, and practice starts. Cursing under his breath, Liam nervously adjusts his grip on his lacrosse stick and runs onto the field. 

It’s the worst practice of his life .

Whatever unsteadiness and lack of coordination Liam had felt when he first arrived back into his human, fourteen-year-old body, it’s so much worse as soon as he picks up a lacrosse stick. Liam’s balance is off, his limbs are too short, and he keeps overbalancing and tripping over his feet. His shots are all weak, as Liam is used to holding back his supernatural strength, and Liam’s ball doesn’t make it in even once when they line up for shots on goal. 

Naturally, none of this is lost on Brett. 

“You can’t be serious,” Brett groans from behind Liam after a particularly bad shot that hits the ground and rolls to a stop, three feet to the left of the goal.

“Just having an off day,” Liam grunts as he stalks to the back of the line.

“Off day?” Brett sniggers. “That looked like a shot a kindergartener would make.” 

Liam’s body tenses, and he curls his fingers into fists. Sun, moon, truth. It’s not worth it. Brett’s trying to goad him, trying to get him angry on purpose, and Liam can’t let him. Not just to avoid giving Brett the satisfaction—Liam also wants to avoid proving him right. The incident with Coach’s car wasn’t the first blow-up Liam had since joining the team at the beginning of freshman year. Brett had already noticed Liam’s short fuse, and had started to worry—publicly, of course—that Liam’s inability to control himself could cost the team. Brett was right the first time. Liam won’t make him right this second time.

But as practice drags on, Liam’s patience is increasingly tested. Brett’s buddies get in on the jeering, too, and then the whole thing feels like it’s turned into a humiliation fest. Liam gets paired up with Jason with long sticks for two-on-ones, itself a humiliation—is Coach considering switching Liam to defense, his aim is so bad today?— and Jason laughs mockingly every time Liam trips before the kid on offense can even get near him. 

“Freshman wunderkind my ass, what the hell was that?” Jason scoffs. Liam’s teeth clench so hard he worries he’ll have hairline fractures in the enamel the next time he goes to the dentist. How about you try getting sent back into your fourteen-year old body, and then we’ll talk, Liam nearly mutters, before stopping himself due to Brett’s werewolf hearing. 

Wait. Brett’s hearing. 

If Liam wants to get Brett’s attention, he can do that, easily, just by whispering. Liam’ll do it right before practice ends. All he’s got to do is get through the next hour.

Just as Liam mulls this over, Brett lines up at the scrimmage line. 

Liam closes his eyes and takes the deepest breath he can, before setting up his stance. He can do this. Focus.

He risks a glance as they wait, muscles coiled, for Coach to blow the whistle. Brett’s no longer laughing, but is studying him with an unreadable expression. 

Liam clenches and unclenches his grip on his lacrosse stick, as he sizes up Brett right back. Brett looks really young, Liam realizes suddenly. Liam has years of experience on him. His body might be young—and friggin’ short, ugh—but his mind is eighteen. He’s learned a thing or two. 

Like how werewolves move. 

The whistle blows, and Brett rushes them. He’s headed for the middle, between Liam and Jason, but Liam can see the feint coming a mile away. He dukes out to the side, blocking Brett’s path, and spins again as Brett tries to dodge to check his shoulder right into Brett’s gut.

Brett goes down. 

Some of their teammates “ooh” in sympathy. Liam walks over to Brett and extends a hand. “Sorry,” he says.

Brett just looks at him, and then scrambles to his feet on his own, ignoring Liam’s outstretched hand. He turns away and jogs back to the scrimmage line. 

Liam’s heart sinks a little. “Come on,” he mumbles as he sets up for the next play, aware Brett can hear him but not able to resist the gripe. “It’s not like I have cooties. Who’s in kindergarten now? ”

They transition into running more complicated plays, and Liam tries to channel his newfound focus into analyzing his opponents and making the smart play. After ten more minutes, Liam finds, to his overwhelming relief, that his fourteen-year-old muscle memory begins to take back over if he is able to get out of his head a little. And fourteen-year-old Liam was no slouch at lacrosse—young Liam didn’t work so hard for nothing. Liam’s anger stays down the rest of the time. 

Before long, they’re going over what Coach claims (though sometimes he gets ahead of himself) is the last play of practice. There's downtime as they set up, with Coach busy directing Pierce and Hogan, while Brett is alone, positioned around forty feet down the field. Liam knows this is his chance. It’s time to talk to Brett. 

Liam takes a deep breath in.  “Brett,” he whispers.

A small twitch is the only indication he’s been heard. Brett must have long since learned how to control his reactions in public, so as not to look suspicious. Liam tries again. “Brett.”

This time, Brett starts looking around. Liam is careful not to flinch when Brett notices Liam’s gaze, and then quickly jerks his head away. 

“Brett, I know you can hear me. Um, it’s Liam.”

Brett’s eyes widen, but he stubbornly keeps looking away.

“Look, um, I’m sorry if I spooked you. I need to talk to you, after.” Brett still looks considerably distressed, and Liam winces guiltily. “It’s about—supernatural stuff. But not you!” he adds hastily. A teammate walks by Liam a touch too close, and Liam lowers his head to soften his whisper further. “Just—other supernatural stuff. I need your help.”

Brett finally turns to look in Liam’s direction. His eyes are still haunted. Liam feels a pang of sympathy. 

“I’m not going to tell anyone. I swear you can trust me. Just—please.”

Coach’s whistle blows at this moment, and Brett winces, hard. Liam grimaces, knowing Brett’s supernatural hearing was keyed up during the whistle. Liam knows from experience how much that hurts. 

It takes him until halfway through the fourth run of the play to realize that he doesn’t... actually have a solid plan for what he wants to talk to Brett about. Yeah, sure, if he can get Brett back on his side, Brett can help fight the Nogitsune. But… in what way, specifically? Does Liam have an actual favor to ask?

…Liam doesn’t know.

Maybe, if Liam is honest with himself, he’s feeling really vulnerable without his werewolf abilities. Having been essentially benched by Scott (who still hasn’t contacted Liam yet to go talk to Mrs. Yukimura), Liam wants someone who can watch his back, if he were to try something on his own. Maybe Liam has subconsciously sought Brett out, as a sort of werewolf proxy.

Or… maybe Liam just wants his dead friend back. 

But what the hell is he going to say? 

The thought makes Liam freeze up so badly, within seconds, he’s eating dirt, having been bowled over by a teammate he hadn’t even seen coming. It knocks the wind right out of him, and he wheezes. 

“Whoa, Liam, ouch,” someone calls, running up to him. “You okay?” The teammate offers a hand. Liam recognizes him. It’s Paul, one of the guys Liam had been friendly with back in the day. Liam had completely forgotten about him.

“Yeah, sorry,” Liam says. He takes Paul’s hand and lets Paul help him up. 

“I mean, in general, too. Are you, like, okay?” Paul presses. “It’s like you’ve been on another planet the whole day. We tried to talk to you, man, and you totally didn’t notice.”

Oh. Oops. Not only is Liam ruining Younger Liam’s chances on his next bio test, he’s ruining his social life, too. Liam supposes he should make a better effort. 

Liam makes it through the last couple runs of the play, and then practice is over. With a furtive glance at Brett, who seems to be engrossed in chatting with his own group, Liam follows Paul and lets himself get swept up in the small talk with him and the rest of his friends. It’s a nice distraction, Liam supposes, but Liam increasingly starts to feel Brett’s gaze boring into him. Finally, when they’re all done packing up, Liam makes an excuse and tells his old friends not to wait for him. The door to the locker room echoes as it swings closed. 

Liam turns back to shove his stuff into his locker, and practically jumps when he ends up face to face with Brett. 

“You said you want to talk,” Brett says tersely. “Talk.”

The silence in the locker room is deafening. Liam tries to come up with an opener, and draws a blank. Eventually, he turns to the side and runs a hand through his hair. The strands surprise them when they’re shorter than he remembers, and he chokes out a nervous half-laugh. “I—um, I really don’t know where to start.”

“How about how you know about—about me,” Brett growls. It’s a human growl—Liam isn’t being threatened yet. From the look on Brett’s face, Liam surmises he’s still spooked as hell.

“I—you’re going to think I’m completely insane.” Liam breathes in. “Just—listen to my heartbeat so you know I’m not lying.”

Brett grunts his assent. 

“I’m—I’m from the future. That’s how I know.” 

Brett doesn’t move, for a moment. Then he barks out a laugh. “That’s it? That’s your big explanation?” 

“I told you to listen to my heartbeat! Did I lie?”

Brett stills at this, and he doesn’t reply, but his face still says, you’re totally and completely insane. 

“Look, do you want me to prove it? You and your sister are born wolves. You’re a part of Satomi’s pack. She teaches you guys some sort of, like, crazy wizardry with hiding your scent, because we didn’t realize you were also a werewolf until Garret stabbed you with wolfsbane and Scott had to rescue you.”

Brett’s eyes flash yellow, and he starts flexing his hands, like he’s considering slamming Liam against the nearest wall. “What the hell. ”

“I’m sorry!” Liam yelps, and he takes a step back. 

“You’re asking me to trust you, and then you tell me all these personal details about my life?”

Liam pauses. “Oh, um, that’s kind of a good point.” Then he shakes his head. “Okay, I can tell you about me, instead. I can tell you Scott—Scott McCall, I think you know who he is by now?—he bit me the second half of freshman year to save my life.”

Brett tilts his head slightly, and then says, “Scott McCall. The True Alpha?”

“Yeah, Scott. So I was a werewolf, too, and I was part of his pack, and we had to fight off a lot of things. Like, um, the thing I just mentioned was when there were assassins out there trying to kill every supernatural in Beacon Hills. Um, we stopped them. By the way. I have no idea if that’s happening in the future again, because of what I’m trying to change.”

Brett narrows his eyes. “Assassins.”

“There was a dead pool. It was this whole thing. It was part of the reason I got bit—you know, that’s not the point.” Liam shakes his head. “The point is, there’s a really bad threat out there right now, and I want to help Scott stop it. And, um, I’d like if you could help, too.”

Brett just looks at him incredulously, and Liam’s nerves spike. This is so not going well. 

“It’s called a Nogitsune. It’s this crazy-smart, crazy-terrifying Japanese fox demon thing, and it’s possessing one of Scott’s friends. Last time, it killed two of his pack.”

“So…” Brett starts, elongating his words like he’s talking to a five-year-old. “You came back in time, like it’s Back to the Future, to stop this thing, from before you were even bitten.”

“Yeah, uh, the time travel part was more of an accident,” Liam corrects. “It was this sort of seelie shapeshifter thing I was fighting.” He shudders at the memory. “Um, I was hoping… I could get Scott to help me go back. But he’s kind of busy with the Nogitsune, I mean, obviously.”

“So it’s even more like Back to the Future,” Brett just says. 

Liam throws his hands up. “What is it with everyone and that movie?”

“You accidentally traveled back in time, you want to fix things for your alpha and then return back to your time. Is that what you’re telling me?”

Liam nods.

Brett stares at him. “Okayyy… well, you’re either absolutely batshit, or… I guess you’re telling the truth.” Liam slumps a little in relief. “But I don’t see what you think that has to do with me.”

“Because—“ Liam looks away, sheepish. Oh, what the hell, what’s a little more honesty. “Because, um… if it comes to a fight, I don’t have the abilities anymore to win. I… if I’m going to help, I need someone better than me.” 

Brett snorts. “Especially after whatever the hell that was on the lacrosse field today.”

Liam grits his teeth. “Look, you have no idea what it’s like to suddenly be a whole foot shorter, and human again. My instincts were all off.”

“Why don’t you just ask Scott to bite you?”

“I did,” Liam groans. “He said no.” 

“So, instead, you’re asking me to be your—what, minion or something?”

“No, I—“ Liam is starting to feel like this is going nowhere. “Nevermind. Just—forget about it.”

Brett snorts. “I can hardly forget about any of that , Liam.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to help, then there really isn’t any point in talking, right?” Liam goes back to his stuff and starts throwing things into his locker. “You totally hate me, anyway,” he mutters. 

There’s a pause. “I don’t hate you,” Brett says, finally.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I just think you’re…” Brett trails off, and then he takes a couple of sudden steps closer. “If you were a bitten ‘wolf, what the hell were you like during the full moon?”

Liam gives his lacrosse bag one last, vicious zip, and whirls to face Brett. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, even though he has a feeling he does know, exactly, what Brett means.

“I mean the anger issues, moron,” Brett retorts, gesturing at Liam. “I mean all of this .”

“I learned control,” Liam grunts.

Brett scoffs. “Yeah, and you kill anyone first?” 

Liam knows Brett would have no way of knowing what Liam almost did to Scott in that library, but it strikes a nerve, and Liam has to grab his own arm and dig his nails in as hard as he can to keep himself from taking a swing at Brett. The gesture is less effective than it is with claws. “No,” he grinds out, and then he grabs his lacrosse bag, slams his locker shut with all his might, and stalks over to the door. 

Before he can leave, however, Brett’s already there, throwing out an arm and cornering him against the wall. “You’re asking me to be on your side, Liam,” Brett tells him. “But the thing is, I know, and you know, that you’re dangerous. And you would’ve been even more dangerous as a werewolf. If you want me to trust you, you’ll have to prove to me I can follow you without you getting me killed.” Brett pulls back to let Liam go, but continues staring him down. “Got it?”

“Got it,” Liam says shortly. Then he sweeps out the door. It takes a significant chunk of his willpower not to slam it. 

By the time he’s halfway home, he’s blinking back tears. 

—-

Scott finally contacts him that evening, while Liam and Mason are playing video games. Liam’s reflexes are back to normal, human levels, so Liam is getting thrashed. But even though he’s losing the game, Liam still drops everything when he hears the text chime and scrambles for his phone. 

thanks for the tip about eichen, the text reads. they won’t let stiles go yet, though we’re trying. also, talked to mrs yukimura, asked her about if the nogitsune was looking to steal her oni. 

The second chime comes in right after. she didn’t seem worried at all. says she keeps her last tail close, for security

Liam’s fingers fly across the keys. you were supposed to talk to her with me!! he sends, and then groans, running a hand down his face. 

“What is it?” Mason asks, his shadow appearing over Liam’s shoulder. 

Liam tilts the phone so Mason can read the texts better. “Scott talked to Kira’s mom without me,” he grumbles. 

“Rough,” Mason commiserates. “Though I still can’t believe he believed you, like, at all.”

“You believed me,” Liam points out. 

“I know you! He doesn’t! Plus, it was pretty hard to ignore all the freaky glowing and levitating!” Mason gesticulates broadly, while wiggling his fingers, as if to denote sparkles.

“Wait, levitating ?”

“That’s what I thought!” Mason cries. He lets his hands fall down to his sides, but then points at Liam as if in sudden realization. “Wait, I think I saw you—like, older you—for a hot second.”

“Wait, really?” Liam turns to face Mason fully. Any information about the time travel thing could be important for how to undo it. 

“Yeah, he got kind of absorbed into the light and shoved into your chest.” Mason tilts his head and looks up contemplatively. “He was taller. Longer hair.” Mason smirks mischievously. “Hot, too.”

Liam smacks Mason on the arm. “Mason, I thought we made a promise that you’d never tell me about how hot or not I am, ever again.”

“Yeah, and that was because you kept asking, and it was driving me nuts!” Mason rolls his eyes. “That was you, though?” 

“Yeah,” Liam nods. “That is me.” 

“Riiight, short stack.” Liam swats at him again, but Mason’s too fast. 

Liam’s phone chimes again, cutting off the cat fight before it can really start. 

i was trying to be subtle. plus, i had an opportuntiy, so i took it 

yeah but without me, how else are u going convince her the tail’s not safe enough?! Liam shoots back.

Mason’s come back to peer at the texts. “What do you know, the big bad Alpha texts like the rest of us.” He leans back, shaking his head. “Not going to lie, I was kind of sure he wasn’t going to contact you again.”

Liam whirls on him, betrayed. “What?”

“Dude, you showed up at his door and told him you know him from the future, and then you said two of his friends—one of whom you forgot about!—were gonna die.”

Liam doesn’t know where Mason’s going with this. “I mean… yeah?”

“What else did you say?” Mason asks, incredulous. 

“I told you. I told him about how to stop the Nogitsune by changing the host, but he already—”

“No, I mean, like—” Mason presses his lips together. “Like, did you have a heart to heart about something?”

Liam glowers. “Why is that any of your business?”

Mason looks a little taken aback. “Ooookay, guess it isn’t, then. Just wondering if Scott’s just that trusting, or…”

Liam sighs. “No, I—” He sits back down on the floor next to his abandoned game controller. “We did. Talk. About… stuff.” Liam starts playing with the carpet with his fingers. It’s a little while before he can get any more words out of his mouth. Mason sits down next to him. Then he murmurs, “Scott was horrified when I said he’d bit me.”

“Oh. Really?”

“He said he’d vowed to himself he’d never bite anyone , but it felt like he was rejecting me.”

“He doesn’t know you yet,” Mason says.

Liam shakes his head. “I know, and I know what he meant—he just didn’t want to be responsible for getting anyone involved in the supernatural stuff, because it’s dangerous,” Liam says. “But it’s—you don’t really know what it’s like, the bond between a bitten beta and their alpha. It’s—it means a lot to me. Sometimes, it feels like there’s an actual, like, physical tether,” Liam gestures towards his chest and mimes the tugging of a rope, “right here, that connects us. I think I would feel it if he died.” If he wasn’t out of his mind with rage on a Supermoon, that is. “But he doesn’t want to bite me.”

Mason’s silent for a moment. “Can you still feel it? As in, right now?”

Liam closes his eyes and concentrates, mentally prodding the area next to his heart. “Oh. Yeah. Yes I do.” A content smile dawns on his face. 

“Then maybe he feels it, too.”

Liam’s phone chimes again, and he cracks an eye open to look at it. 

meet me at the preserve parking lot tmoro, 7 PM

Liam’s smile grows.

Chapter Text

Brett doesn’t realize he’s watching for Liam Dunbar to come into the classroom until Liam does. His backpack is half unzipped and hanging off one shoulder, as usual. He laughs and gives a fistbump to Paul as he settles into his chair and starts pulling out his books. 

Then, one hand still rummaging in his backpack, he looks over at Brett. There’s a moment of eye contact between them, and Liam somehow manages to look imploring, defeated, and defiant at the same time. And then Liam is back to laughing at something Paul said, normal as can be.

Feeling unsettled, Brett turns to the board and copies down its contents. There’s something a little violating about Liam Dunbar, of all people, knowing the truth about him. 

Brett sneaks another glance at Liam. This time, it feels like he almost caught Liam looking back, but Liam’s staring pointedly at the board.

Okay, maybe a lot violating. Brett’s got no idea how he’s supposed to know that the truth won’t come hurtling out of Liam’s mouth the next time the little freak blows his top.

Except, Brett is no longer quite sure he believes that’ll happen, and it puzzles him. 

Still. The absolute nerve on this guy. Liam comes out swinging with all of the crazy, and then asks Brett to be a glorified bodyguard on a mission for someone else’s Alpha. 

Brett feels Liam’s eyes on him again, and he shoots Liam a glare, only to find him staring at the board, tapping his pencil on his wrist furiously.

Turning back to his notes, Brett settles in for a hell of a long class.

___

Brett catches him in the hallway before their next class. “Would you stop looking at me like that?” he says through clenched teeth. “It’s way too obvious.”

“Me?” Liam hisses. “You were practically staring at me the entire time.”

“You told me you knew I was a werewolf by whispering at me across the lacrosse field, and then started detailing shit about my life like a friggin’ stalker!”

“I thought we got past that part yesterday.”

“Hell no!”

Liam groans, and then glances around furtively. “We’re making a scene. I’m leaving. Bye. Don’t follow me.”

“Wasn’t planning on it, asshole,” Brett snipes back. He turns to walk in the opposite direction, before realizing that his next class is the same way Liam just went.

Jason sidles up to him. “The fuck was that with Dunbar?”

“Nothing,” Brett grumbles. 

___

Liam walks into the locker room before practice staring down at his phone, as though obsessively checking his messages. He nearly walks into Jason, before stopping short, muttering an apology, and staring right back down at the phone, dodging the benches without looking until he gets to his locker. 

Brett tries not to be curious about whatever Liam’s texting about. He gives his laces an extra-tight pull as he finishes tying his cleats. 

Jason follows where Brett’s looking. “Dude, you look like Dunbar pissed in your cereal or something.”

Brett rolls his eyes. “The way he was playing yesterday, I doubt he has enough aim to get it in the bowl.”

Jason duly sniggers, but keeps pressing. “Did he throw a tantrum and destroy something of yours?”

“Nah, he just—” Brett decides to throw his friend a bone, so he stops bugging him. “Said something yesterday that kind of got in my head.”

Jason instantly sobers. “Wait, like what?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Brett shrugs. 

“Like hell!” Jason exclaims. He turns around to look at Liam. Liam’s busy putting on his pads. “Seriously, what did he say?”

“Nothing, God,” Brett says. 

“I’ll kill him!” Jason punches his locker and starts striding in Liam’s direction. Brett grabs him by the shoulder to stop him, at the same time that Liam looks up due to the noise. Liam sees it’s them and glares.

“I said it’s nothing!” Brett says, putting his other hand on Jason’s chest and pushing him back. “Liam’s not worth it.” And as he says it he realizes it’s true. Another time, he might have stepped back and let Jason do whatever he wanted to make little prick’s life hell, but something in him today won’t let that happen. 

“Yeah?” is all Jason says. “We’ll see about that.”

Brett may have made a huge mistake.

—

Brett’s worst fears are confirmed when practice starts. 

As Coach sets them off running laps, Brett takes his eyes off Jason and Colin for what feels like half a second before he looks back, just in time to watch them very obviously trip Liam from both sides. Liam promptly goes sprawling.

“Watch your step, Dunbar,” Jason drawls over his shoulder, while Colin sniggers.

Brett slows his pace to fall in line beside them. “Dude, I thought I said not to do anything,” he says furtively.

“I didn’t,” Jason says, tone smug. “Shrimp must finally be on a growth spurt, lately.”

“Poor thing, can’t stop tripping over his own feet,” Colin nods in false sympathy.

Brett glances back at Liam, who’s been left behind halfway around the field by now, but Brett can still make out his glare.

Yeah, or, maybe he’s an eighteen-year-old werewolf stuck in a freshman’s body. God, that was strange to think about.

“Lay off him, alright?” Brett huffs. 

“Sure,” Jason says sarcastically, and he pats Brett on the shoulder before picking up his pace.

When they finish the run, Coach asks them to pair up to practice warm-up passes, and Brett’s quick to grab Jason and steer the two of them as far away from Liam as possible. But a few minutes in, Brett hears a yelp from across the field. Liam’s rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Colin, as a ball rolls lazily away by his feet. 

“Oops! Gotta practice my aim,” Colin calls. 

Brett frowns. “Seriously?” he mutters. He turns to Jason, who’s stifling a laugh. “Oh, come on, man.”

“What’s the harm in letting the little runt get a taste of his own medicine?” Jason shrugs. 

Growling (in a mostly non-wolf-y way), Brett scoops up their ball and lobs it at Jason, but he keeps glancing back towards Liam as they toss it back and forth. And less than a minute later, he’s rewarded by watching Pierce chuck a ball that hits Liam directly on the back of his head.

This time, Liam throws his stick on the ground. “Hey! The hell is your problem?”

“Oh, you mad, bro?” Pierce fires back. “Hey, lemme guess, you’re going to rip my freaking head off?”

A ball hits Brett in the knee, and he whirls around. “Dude,” Jason says, “Practice, remember?”

Brett shoots Jason a look and fires the ball back, before looking back over his shoulder at Liam. Liam’s hands are in fists, but he’s backing away, and he stoops to pick up his lacrosse stick. His partner jogs over to check on him, whispering a “you alright?” and Liam just nods.

Brett’s certain he’s seen that exact scenario before with Liam, and it ended in punches being thrown. 

“You’re playing with fire, man,” Brett mumbles, but he turns back in time to catch the next ball aimed at his gut. 

They line up for shots on goal, next. By now, Liam’s friends have picked up on what’s going on, and there’s a buffer three players deep between Liam and any of the guys Jason might have recruited for his revenge plot. Liam still smells faintly of rage, but his heart rate’s remarkably close to calm. Of course, his chemosignals spike a little when Jason and the rest start heckling as soon as it's his turn to shoot, but Liam executes a perfectly respectable shot to the right corner of the goal, and he doesn’t look at any of them as he jogs to the back of the line. Whatever time-travel-related issues Liam claimed were affecting his aim yesterday, he seems to have them well in hand now. 

Brett stops thinking about it as they get into a rhythm—he preps for his turn, he places a neat shot right between the goalie’s legs, he hits a couple high fives, and on it goes. The brisk wind is in his hair, the scent of grass in his nostrils. Brett’s reminded again of why he loves lacrosse. 

Then there’s an eruption of jeers and laughter, and Brett looks up to watch Liam trudging to the back of the line, the ball he’d just fired nestled in the goalie’s stick. If Liam had laser vision, there’d be a hole in his shoes. 

“Hey, good shot man,” Colin drawls, leaning towards Liam and extending a hand, as if to shake. “I’m sure you’ll get it next time.” There are snorts and giggles from behind him. Liam gives Colin a wide berth without looking. 

Brett reaches over to Colin and elbows him when Liam’s gone. “Dude, shut up.”

“Why should I?” Colin laughs, and Brett groans in annoyance. 

Liam misses a couple more shots. The cycle repeats. 

By the time Coach has them start running plays, Liam’s pulse is up, and the scent of his anger is stronger. They’re well and truly fucked.

As Jason brushes by Brett on his way to his position, Brett catches him on the arm. “Jason, I think you’ve made your point. You’ve gotta make it stop, man.”

“What, or Dunbar’s gonna blow?” Jason laughs, gesturing towards Liam. He’s positioned not too far away from them, his shoulders tense and his hands white-knuckling his lacrosse stick. “Yeah, uh, that’s the point. Get him a little mad, watch him get benched for the next game.”

“And you don’t care if someone might get hurt in that little plan of yours?” Brett hisses. “What the fuck, Jason!”

“He fucking deserves it!”

“What, for saying something to me, once? News flash, bro, it’s not like I’ve been fucking nice to him, either!”

“Yeah, because you clocked that he’s a little psycho from day one!”

Coach’s whistle blows. “Talbot! Grange! Get into position!”

Brett watches Jason go, seething. Jason jogs lazily into place and gets his stance at the ready. He gives Brett a mock salute.

Within three seconds of the start of the play, Pierce launches himself at Liam. Cursing under his breath, Brett takes off in their direction, but it’s far too late. Pierce’s body rockets into Liam’s with the force of a speeding comet. Brett can only watch, aghast, as Liam goes hurtling towards the ground, his head bouncing off the dirt so violently that anyone would have reason to be concerned about a concussion. Brett goes running over. So does Jason, and Paul, and Liam’s other buddy Hogan. 

Liam’s already gotten back up, and he’s hopping mad, glaring daggers and clenching his fists. Paul is shouting at Pierce. “I swear to God, you try that again, I’m going to fucking kill you!” Hogan gets there next and steps in front of Liam, pushing him back while glowering at Jason, who grins cruelly next to Pierce. 

“Ooh, murder, original,” Pierce drawls. “Have to say, between you and your buddies, it wasn’t you I’d peg for going to jail first.”

Paul grabs Pierce’s shirt, and Brett chooses this moment to dive in between them. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he says, pushing each of them back by their chests. He looks at Pierce as he orders, “ Stop. ”

But right behind him, suddenly, there’s a commotion again, and Brett blinks incredulously at what he’s seeing. Jaime, another one of Liam’s friends, is lunging at Jason, and Liam is the one pulling him back. Liam’s teeth are bared, and he’s practically growling.

It’s then that Coach finally arrives, whistling and shouting, “Hey! Break it up, break it up!” He has to whistle several more times, before finally the whole team has surrounded them and the would-be brawlers are silent. 

“What the hell is all this?” Coach roars. No one answers. He surveys the group. “Right. I’m highly disappointed in each and every one of you. O’Neal, Talbot, Johnson,” he starts, indicating Paul, Brett, and Pierce, “Grange, Kwarzinski, Hogan, Dunbar. Bench. Now!”

The players erupt in protest, including Brett. “I was trying to break it up!” he yells, while Paul shouts, “That’s not fair , Coach, they started it!” But Coach just whistles. “I said, bench! Now! And separate yourselves, while you’re at it!”

Paul ducks away from Brett with a look of reproach, and Pierce shoulder-checks Brett as he brushes by. Brett closes his eyes for a moment to be sure his eyes don’t flash yellow, and then stalks up to Jason. “Happy now?” he exclaims, gesturing at Liam.

Jason places a hand to his chin. “Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

Without giving Jason warning, Brett grabs his shirt and pulls him to force him to look Brett in the eye. “No. You’re done .” 

Jason stills, eyes going wide. 

“Talbot! Grange!” Coach roars. “Opposite sides of the bench. NOW!”

Brett releases Jason’s shirt roughly, and Jason stumbles a little. Brett walks backwards a moment more, scowling at Jason, before turning and jogging in the direction of where Liam and his friends have more or less set up shop, each sitting on various levels of the bleachers about five feet from each other. Brett does the same, and chooses a spot on the lower bench about five feet down from Liam. He’s met with a surprised hiss from Jaime and an “Oh, fuck off, Brett,” from Paul, but he doesn’t budge. 

Liam doesn’t look at him, swinging his legs and staring out at the field, where the next play has started, though laughably short a few key positions. “What do you want, Brett,” he says. He sounds more tired than angry, though he still reeks of rage. Or maybe the scent is just coming from everyone. Brett included.

“Are you okay?” Brett asks.

Liam’s nostrils flare at this. “Am I okay. Oh, really?”

“Yes, really!” Brett snaps, gesturing broadly, before sighing and pinching his nose. Sun, moon, truth. “No, sorry. Look… I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I really wanted to check if you were okay.”

“Sure,” Liam snorts.

“I do!” Brett retorts. 

“Whatever,” Liam scoffs, and he turns his back to Brett, bringing his feet up on the bench and hugging his knees. Brett keeps thinking he’ll turn again to say something, but he just stays like that.

“Oh, the silent treatment,” Brett grumbles. “Real mature.”

“Hey, shut the fuck up, Talbot!” Paul calls over from the bench above and to his right. “No one asked you to stick your nose in!”

“Well, maybe I ought to!” Brett yells back. 

“Not like that, you don’t, moron,” Jaime jeers. 

Hogan just gives him an aloof and disappointed look. 

“Jesus,” Brett grumbles.

They watch the rest of practice in silence from then on out. After what feels like years, Coach dismisses everyone, except— “Not you seven, you stay!—” and then they all suffer through the ensuing lecture. Coach is big about “being responsible adults” and “taking accountability,” but of course, he doesn’t want to hear “who started what, grow up and settle it like men!” In the end, however, they get off with only the lecture, and then they’re finally, finally dismissed. 

Brett goes for Liam immediately, an apology on his lips, but Hogan gets in the way, steering Liam protectively away with a reproachful look back at Brett. Brett has to settle with trailing awkwardly behind them all. 

Jason takes the opportunity to sidle up to him. “Look man, I—”

“Not in the mood,” Brett says shortly. Pierce tugs Jason away, and they all reach the locker room and start packing up without another word to each other.

On Liam’s side of the locker room, Paul, Hogan, and Jaime are all whispering at Liam, going on and on about how that was “so not cool of them,” and “are you okay?” and “I swear, I was this close to throttling that asshole !” They all shoot occasional glares over at Brett, Pierce, and Jason. As time goes on, it becomes clear that none of Liam’s friends are going to let Brett anywhere near Liam, so as they all trudge to the front circle of the school, Brett starts half-plotting ways to get to talk to Liam, alone. Does he have to literally stalk the guy back to his house?

But, in a stroke of luck, gradually, Liam’s friends all start getting picked up, and so do Jason and Pierce. After fifteen minutes, Brett and Liam are the only ones left. 

Wary of getting too close, Brett walks up to stand a respectable distance away from Liam at the curb. Five feet away, perhaps, ironically enough.

“Hey,” he says, after a moment.

Liam is silent. He doesn’t look at Brett. 

“I’m sorry,” Brett says. He adjusts the strap of his backpack. “Jason got this idea into his head that you’d said something to me. I kept telling him to stop, but he just kept recruiting more people, and it all… Spiralled out of control.”

“He got it into his head all on his own, huh,” Liam mutters.

Brett pauses, a little thrown. “Well—”

“You really don’t have an understanding of what’s in human hearing range, do you,” Liam snorts. “Here’s a hint: human hearing may be shit, but we aren’t fucking deaf.”

Brett looks down. “I-I may have messed up. I was trying to get Jason off my back, and it… totally backfired.”

“Oh, did it.”

“ Yes, Liam, I really wanted none of that!”

Liam kicks a pebble off the curb. “Then why didn’t you stop them?”

“I tried —”

“Did you?”

Brett feels wrong-footed, off. He doesn’t have a proper response for that. He thinks back to practice. Brett may have told Jason and Colin to stop it, but he never actually got in their way, and made them stop, did he? 

… Liam might be right. 

Liam huffs out a bitter laugh. “You know, in my time, we were actually kind of friends. Sure, it probably helped that we kept getting shot at together, or poisoned or stabbed or something, but… we could trust each other.” He kicks another pebble. “Hell, you actually helped me trust Scott better.”

Brett starts to imagine that. Him and Liam, werewolf friends of convenience. To his surprise, it isn’t that hard. 

“So I thought that underneath all the jackassery, you were actually a good guy.” A black passenger car starts to approach the front circle. Liam turns to look Brett in the eye. “But maybe I was wrong.”

With that, Liam gets into the car, and it drives away. Brett watches it go with a tightness in his chest. 

Something’s nagging at him, and it takes him a moment to realize what it is.

Jason, Colin, and Pierce got Liam angry, all right. But not once did Liam get violent. 

***

Liam is still in a black mood by the time 7 o’clock rolls around that evening. Not even the promise of seeing Scott has shaken it. 

The murky shadows of the preserve seem more threatening when Liam can’t see, or smell, or hear what lies behind them. Liam sends them furtive glances as he paces about the gravel of the parking lot. 

Liam can’t believe Brett. He rubs the tender spot on his head where he’d hit the ground after Pierce had shoved him. (No concussion, at least, thankfully). Last time, it felt like Brett had dropped the animosity pretty much as soon as they’d found out they were both werewolves. Liam figured that, when discover you're in the same supernatural boat, petty school quibbles should pretty much be history. But apparently, Brett could still surprise him. For the worse. 

Scott pulls up on his motorcycle eight minutes late (not that Liam was counting, or anything) and tosses him a helmet. “We’ve gotta go quick,” Scott says. “Kira’s due back at her place with her dad, like, any minute now.”

Liam puts the helmet on and hops on the back of the bike with practiced efficiency. Then, they’re off without further ado. Scott drives sensibly, but fast, as he always does when there’s some sort of urgent wolf mission going on.

They pull to a stop a few houses short of Kira’s so Scott can listen for whether anyone but Mrs. Yukimura is home. Liam gets the answer after a moment, when Scott curses and dismounts from the bike. “They’re home.” Liam follows suit in dismounting, and keeps by Scott’s heels as he walks the bike into a hiding spot in the woods and parks it there. 

“I’m going to have to convince Mrs. Yukimura to come outside to us,” Scott says. He turns to Liam, evidently about to say something else, but stops. “Are you okay?” 

Liam winces. His chemosignals must still be fairly potent. “Uh, rough day.”

Scott’s brow furrows. “What happened?”

“School. Not important. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Scott nods after studying Liam a moment longer. “Okay. Wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” With that, he starts jogging off through the woods. 

It doesn’t take long for Liam to start getting pretty impatient. There’s a shadow on the forest floor that Liam swears is looking at him. 

Liam turns away from it and starts pacing. The incident from practice seeps back into his head, and Liam is seething again before he knows it. He kicks a rock. “Goddamnit.”

After what feels like a year, Liam hears footsteps again, and the crunching of leaves. Scott ducks under a branch and into the little clearing, followed by Kira’s mom.  

“Uh, hi, Mrs. Yukimura,” Liam says with an aborted wave. 

Mrs. Yukimura sizes him up for a moment. Then she turns to Scott. “ This is who you brought me out here to see? You said he had urgent information about the Nogitsune.”

Well, now Liam’s a little offended. 

“Just—hear him out,” Scott pleads.

Kira’s mom turns back to look at him. There’s a too-long pause, before Liam realizes he should probably start talking. 

“Um, ok. So. Uh. My name is Liam. I accidentally traveled back in time from 2017. I’m Scott’s beta.”

Mrs. Yukimura’s gaze remains inscrutable. Then she turns on her heel without a word and makes to walk out. 

Scott stops her with a hand to her shoulder. “Please, Mrs. Yukimura. He’s telling the truth.”

“You believe this, Scott?” Mrs. Yukimura says incredulously. 

“Yes, actually,” Scott says, not backing down. She stares at him a moment longer, and then turns back to Liam. 

“So, I suppose you’re going to tell me you know best how to defeat the Nogitsune, then? Because you’re from the future?”

“I mean… yes?”

Mrs. Yukimura narrows her eyes. “Well?”

Liam tries to stop himself from fidgeting beneath her gaze. “I came to tell you specifically that the Nogitsune wants to take your last tail from you. Last time, it succeeded, and they… um, it made the Oni kill someone important. You have to hide the last tail in a safer place.” 

“The Oni belong to me. My last tail would be useless to the Nogitsune.” 

“I don’t think that’s true,” Liam argues.

Mrs. Yukimura doesn’t look impressed. She glances at Scott, then back to Liam. “And who did you tell Scott they were going to kill?”

“Allison,” Scott murmurs. 

Mrs. Yukimura has a look of dawning understanding in her eyes, and then she turns and starts walking back out of the woods, again. Scott splutters in protest and goes after her. “Wait!”

Mrs. Yukimura rounds on him. “I think I understand now how he got you to believe him. Goodnight, Scott.” Then she continues walking.

Panic leaps into Liam’s throat. “You haven’t listened to all of it!”

“I don’t believe I need to.”

Liam starts stumbling through the underbrush after her. “You don’t have to kill Stiles to stop the Nogitsune!” Liam calls after her. “It’s going to separate itself from Stiles, and then you can change the host, like the scroll says! You just have to wait long enough for it to separate itself. Please!”

Mrs. Yukimura finally stops after this. She turns on him. “I am 900 years old. You will not sway me by telling me the things Scott most wants to hear.” 

Liam wants to scream. “Okay, fine! You don’t have to believe me. But when Stiles vomits out a string of bandages, and then there’s two of them, you’ll know I’m telling you the truth.” 

Mrs. Yukimura narrows her eyes, and it’s a moment before she speaks. “Tell me what you know about the Nogitsune, Liam.”

Liam swallows. “It’s a firefly, sort of, but also a fox spirit. It possesses people… it likes chaos and pain, and the game of Go. To defeat it, you can either kill the host or change it.”

Mrs. Yukimura looks as if she’s waiting for Liam to go on, but Liam is done. As she realizes this, her gaze turns gradually colder. “You know nothing of which you speak.” She turns to Scott. “We’re done here.”

Scott starts back after her, but her pace doesn’t slow, and this time, Liam doesn’t make to follow. Liam sinks to his knees. 

He’s failed. She doesn’t believe him. He’s failed. 

Allison might die again because Liam couldn’t be convincing enough. And then Scott won’t be able to look at Liam straight for the rest of his life. 

Scott comes back a long while later, and together they trudge back to Scott’s bike. 

“Liam,” Scott says finally. “You know it’s not your fault.”

Liam doesn’t say anything. He kicks at the leaves with more force than necessary. 

“She at least agreed not to tell anyone about you,” Scott tries. “To keep one more piece off the game board.”

“Great,” Liam says. “That’s—great.”

Scott places a hand on Liam’s shoulder, and Liam stills. Then Liam murmurs, “I should have listened harder, when Kira told the story.”

“You didn’t know it would be important,” Scott says. “You couldn’t have known.”

Liam ducks out of Scott’s arm. “How would you even know that? You don’t know me!”

Scott’s quiet, unreadable in the dark shadows of the forest. “No,” he concedes. “But I think I’d like to.”

Throat suddenly tight, Liam finishes making his way to the bike and grabs the guest helmet. Scott follows suit. 

“Do you want me to drop you off by your place?” Scott inquires lowly. 

“…Sure,” Liam replies eventually, and he rattles off the address. 

When they get there, Scott stops a few houses down, like he’d done at Kira’s. Liam strips off his helmet and starts busying himself with attaching it to its habitual stowaway spot. Then he starts to storm away. 

“Liam!” Scott calls, stopping him. Liam turns.

“I’ll text if anything important happens,” Scott says. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Liam replies, grateful. 

Scott pulls away and disappears down the street.

Chapter Text

Liam’s class with Brett doesn't meet today, thank God. Brett will be at practice, though. But Liam will still go to practice. Clark Kent always goes back to practice, and so will Liam.

At least it’s Friday. 

Today, Liam’s goal is to regroup. He’s going to get through school as quietly as possible. And then he and Mason are going to go find some silver, because if the Oni are still going to be on the table, then they need a way to fight back. 

The regroup part of things actually seems to go surprisingly well. Liam focuses in on school and uses it to forget about everything else. The last bell rings before he even knows it, and this time he’s actually got some usable notes. 

Of course, then it’s time for practice. 

As soon as Liam enters the locker room, Liam feels soundly smothered by all the hovering from Paul, Hogan, and Jamie. He tries to get them to back off without snapping, but it doesn’t do all that much good. They just go back to their lockers—next to his, of course—and start talking about who among Brett’s cronies they’ve seen today, and how they’d looked.

Liam closes his eyes, a sensation of bone-deep exhaustion with all of the high school drama washing over him. Liam decides that today, he’s had it. He’s not going to react to any of this shit. He’s not going to look at those guys, Jason, and Colin, and the rest.

But then, it turns out, Liam doesn’t have to, because… nothing happens.

No balls come flying at his face. No jeers when he misses a shot. No one gratuitously knocks him to the ground. It seems like Liam doesn’t even have to avoid looking at Jason, Colin, or Pierce, because they’re not even looking at him, either. 

Paul, Hogan, and Jaime are in disbelief, and chatter excitedly at every opportunity. Liam just smiles and nods.

It’s a surprisingly productive practice. By the end of it, Liam feels far more in touch with his fourteen-year-old body’s muscle memory and coordination. He thinks he could actually play a game of lacrosse, now, and not suck. 

Back in the locker room, Liam finally gets caught looking at the Person Number One he Wasn’t Looking At… Brett Talbot. 

Brett just holds his gaze. And then, he gives Liam a nod. 

Liam nods back.

—-

Mason responds to Liam’s question, “Hey, does your mom have any silver I could borrow?” with an emphatic, “Hell no! You are not touching my mom’s jewelry!” 

To which Liam replies, “Okay, fair.”

Then he invites Mason over to search for silver in his own mom’s bedroom, and Mason screeches, “No! What the hell is wrong with you? We’re not touching either of our moms’ jewelry! I don’t want to die !”

But if they aren’t raiding Mason’s mom’s jewelry collection (Liam is still going to search his own mother later), they still need a source of silver. So, the mall it is.

Mason and Liam scrounge up every last penny from their allowances and summer odd jobs—which is a laughably small amount, God, Liam hates being fourteen—and beg a ride from Mason’s mom. When they get there, Liam peers up at the looming, massive double glass doors, and is hit with the desire to run like hell the other way.

“What?” Mason asks, squinting as if he’s trying to find what Liam’s looking at. 

Liam lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “I just realized I’ve literally never been here without someone forcing me.”

“First time for everything,” Mason says impatiently, and he grabs Liam’s arm and pulls him inside. 

The mall doesn’t get any less overwhelming once they’re through the massive doors. The sounds of the crowd of shoppers echo through the vaulted halls in a constant din. Rows of stores Liam has never heard of advertise their wares with flashy neon signs. A kid runs by him, squealing, with ice cream smeared on her face.

At least Liam is human right now—the mall is hell on his werewolf senses. 

“So,” Liam starts, hands shoved warily in his pockets. “Um… where is the jewelry store?”

“We’re not going to one of those first if we can avoid it,” Mason informs him. “Those things are crazy expensive, and mostly shill diamonds to suckers looking to get married. Nah, we’re looking for a department store.”

“… and what’s that?”

Mason rolls his eyes. “Like, Macy’s? Nordstrom’s? Sears?”

Liam shrugs. “Okay?”

Mason shakes his head. “You are woefully uneducated, my man. Just follow me. We’re hitting Nordstrom’s first.”

On the way, they pass a store that makes Liam pause and call for Mason to wait up. It’s got bright lavender all over the storefront, and the whole thing is lined with colorful jewelry that looks… incredibly girly. Liam kind of wants to hurl just looking at it, but for the mission…

Mason jogs back up to him, and Liam points inside. “Isn’t that… uh… a possibility?”

But Mason just bursts out laughing. “Claire’s? No way, dude, that stuff’s way too cheap and fake. You wanna kill a Japanese firefly demon with nickel-plated copper?” He snorts and claps Liam on the back. “Good one, Liam.”

“Oh, thank God ,” Liam mutters, and they quickly leave Claire’s behind. 

(Mason does admit, on the way, that he got his ears pierced at Claire’s, but that he has since “repented of his woefully uninformed decision-making.”)

Finally, they arrive at the department store, which just looks to Liam like a mini version of the mall itself. Mason drags him over to a gleaming row of display cases. Liam peers inside them. Sure enough, there’s jewelry in there. 

The sales lady behind the counter is occupied with a soccer-mom-looking lady as they arrive—thank God again—but Mason quickly bursts Liam’s bubble by informing him that they’re asking her for help as soon as she’s free. And worse, that Liam’s doing it.

“What?!” Liam whisper-yells.

“They love helping cute little white teenage boys look for gifts for their first girlfriends,” Mason grins, at least a little evilly, in Liam’s opinion. “Just tell them your girlfriend is really into knives. And werewolves.”

“Are you insane?! ” Liam yelps, and he takes a hasty glance around to see if they were heard.

“Dude, they’ve got no idea werewolves are apparently real. I mean, I’ve been operating on that assumption for the past week, but I’ve still never seen it, so clearly the supernatural must be fairly well-hidden. And you know what?” Mason leans in conspiratorially. “Girls love the supernatural right now. Hello, Twilight? ”

“… like, the vampire movie?”

“ Exactly .” 

“But that’s vampires.”

“It’s also got werewolves in it.”

Liam feels like he’s going to be sick. “ No.”

“Yes,” Mason nods. “The two love interests in the whole love triangle thing? Edward’s a vampire, and Jacob’s a werewolf.”

Liam shoves Mason. “And how do you know all of that, huh? You a fan ?”

“No!” Mason retorts. “It’s been, like, literally inescapable! How do you not know that?”

Liam just shakes his head. “Remind me to never let anyone make me watch that movie.”

“Why, are they going to get werewolves all wrong?”

Liam shudders. “Yes.”

Mason lifts his head back up from their little whisper-huddle, and then he pulls Liam towards the desk. “The saleslady’s free. Remember what I told you.”

And then Liam’s face to face with five feet of smiling saleslady. 

He wants to run. 

Instead, he tells her Mason’s cover story. 

“Oh sure! Oh, honey, your girlfriend sounds like a real peach,” the saleslady says, and Liam sneaks a hand behind his back to flip Mason off where the saleslady can’t see it. 

Pretty quickly, however, they’ve got a couple real options. The lady pulls out a couple of spindly-looking earrings and a hairpin-thingie that mostly looks like one sharp cone, aside from the part where it’s supposed to attach to the hair. 

“And these are silver?” Liam asks. “She’s been, uh, really specific about that part.”

“Sterling silver-plated,” the saleslady corrects. “Silver is actually a fairly soft metal, and it oxidizes quickly. Most jewelry uses a stronger metal underneath, and then plates it with silver. It’s also better for your wallet,” the lady says with a wink.

Liam’s wallet. Right. He starts rummaging in his pocket for all of his cash, and then uncurls it out on the counter. 

It looks really sad there, next to all the gleaming, expensive jewelry.

Shit. Once again, Liam hates being fourteen again.

“Um… is any of that going to be within my price range?” Liam asks meekly. 

They end up having to get the smaller pair of spindly, needle-like earrings, after Mason chips in, too. As soon as they walk (briskly) out of the store, Liam starts ripping the packaging apart, and hands Mason one of them. 

“We’ve both got something, now, I guess,” Liam says. 

The earring looks very small in Mason’s palm. 

They peer down at it. Liam tries to imagine stabbing something with it, and very quickly he realizes this whole trip may have been extremely futile. 

“Shiiiiit,” Liam breathes, clutching his head with both hands.

Mason just frowns, and picks it up to hold it in the light. “I wonder if we could attach it to something bigger.”

This jogs something in Liam’s memory. “Wait, you might be on to something. There was something that we—“ Liam frowns. “Oh, this is going to kill me until I remember it.”

“Well, how about you jog your memory, while I make the most of being here, since you never come with me,” Mason says. “Come on.” 

And that’s how Liam ends up spending two more hours in the mall. Mason describes it as “window shopping.” Liam describes it as torture. 

They’re in a shoe store, and Mason is greedily inspecting what feels like the millionth pair of incredibly expensive, patent leather perforated loafers, when Liam finally breaks. He jogs up to Mason and tugs his arm. “Mason, I remembered the thing from before,” he lies. “We gotta go.”

“We have all weekend, man,” Mason whines, without turning from the shoes. 

“The Oni could strike anytime now!” Liam hisses. “Do you want to be defenseless?”

“Dude, they won’t go after us, we’re not on the game board, remember?” 

“Mason,” Liam growls, teeth bared. 

Mason finally looks up at this. “Okay, I’ll give it to you. That was freaky. Are you sure you’re not still a werewolf?”

Liam just tugs Mason’s arm again. “Come,” tug, “ on,” tug. 

“God, all right, all right,” Mason complains. Liam starts pulling him out of the store, but as they leave, he watches as Mason’s eyes still drift back to the shoes, and he traces a loving finger down the side of the sneaker rack. 

And that’s what does it. Mason, plus sneakers.

Liam stops short. “The Beast. The Beast of Gevaudan.”

Mason frowns at him. “The what?”

Liam goes back to dragging Mason out of the store, this time without being able to look at him. “I told you about the Beast. It was one of the things we had to fight.”

“Oh, right,” Mason says distantly. 

“The Beast could only be killed by this special dagger forged in mountain ash and the blood of his family, or something like that,” Liam continues. “But, like, any dagger is a friggin’ toothpick next to that thing. You have no idea how huge it was.” And if I have my way, you, especially you, will never know, Liam shudders. 

“Uh-huh.”

“So Marie-Jeanne—she was Allison’s ancestor, and apparently she looked just like her—Marie-Jeanne put the dagger on a big stick, and voilà ,” Liam does a jazz hand with his free hand, “pike!”

Liam stops them short and digs his earring out of his pocket. Once again, he’s surprised to find just how disappointingly small the thing is. 

“Um, or, in this case, I guess… a tiny pike. Might only be enough to mimic an actual dagger.”

“Liam, that’s what I already said. I said, ‘what if we tie it to something bigger,’” Mason says flatly. 

“Okay, but, now we have, like, context behind it, too!” Liam splutters. 

“Whatever man,” Mason shakes his head, smirking. He pulls out his phone to call his mom to pick them up. 

—

They go over to Liam’s house after that, where they raid Liam’s parents’ yard tools and jerry-rig the earrings to the other end of a pair of trowels with a combination of twine and screws. By the end of it all, they’ve got what looks like the silliest weapons known to mankind, but at least they have weapons. 

Liam hefts up his trowel-pike, and starts whirling it from side to side, testing its balance. The balance kind of sucks. Liam thinks he’ll need more practice with this thing to wield it effectively. So he decides to train with it, right then and there, while Mason finishes screwing in his last screws. 

Back and forth, Liam swings it, back and forth. Back and forth. But the improvised weapon never seems to go exactly where he wants it to. Even after around fifteen minutes, Liam feels like he’s getting nowhere.

After a particularly bad attempt at a stabbing motion that throws him off balance and sends him stumbling, Liam throws the pike on the sodden grass with a yell. 

Mason’s head jerks up. “What is it?”

Liam stares at his hands, inspecting them first from the back, then at the palms. He closes his hands into fists, and then flicks them out in the motion he often does to unsheathe his claws. 

Nothing, of course. 

He does it again, and again, grasping at his imagination for the memory of what it was like, to be able to fight with his own bare hands, to leap confidently into danger and know he had the strength to back it up. 

Liam’s vision starts to blur. 

“Whoa, hey hey hey,” Mason’s voice says from beside him. He places a gentle hand over Liam’s hands, tensed in a faux-clawed position, and slowly closes them. 

They stay like that in silence for a couple more minutes. 

Presently, Liam says, “I just feel so useless.” He takes a shuddering breath in. 

“What, being human?”

Liam nods.

“…I’m human,” Mason says. “And I was human then, too?”

“…I mean, yeah,” Liam mumbles. 

“So, okay, what about me, then? Am I useless?”

“No!”

“Well, then, neither are you,” Mason says, and he gives Liam a pointed look. 

Liam feels fairly affronted, even though he knows he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. “Yeah, but like, being human is, like, your thing.”

Mason crosses his arms. 

“… and now it’s my thing, too?” Liam tries weakly. 

Mason shakes his head exasperatedly. “You’re not useless. You’ve never been useless. You’re acting like you weren’t even human for the vast majority of your life!” 

Liam’s hackles raise. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose it, lose that—power!”

Mason throws up his hands. “Ugh, it’s like talking to a wall!” 

Liam grits his teeth and turns to scoop up his pike, then starts stomping back to the house.

“Wait,” Mason calls. 

Liam pauses.

“I’m sorry, Liam, I shouldn’t have said that. I—I hear you, man, I don’t want to make you feel like I’m, like, dismissing you or something.” Mason takes a couple steps forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. “I really just want you to remember that you aren’t useless. You’re Liam. You’re actually a pretty capable guy. Okay?” 

“…Okay,” Liam says. 

Mason nods, looking relieved. Then they both take the pikes back to the house. 

The next morning, Liam takes out the trowel-pike and tries again.

He practices all weekend. 

Chapter Text

The text from Scott arrives in the middle of third period on Monday. 

the nogitsune took lydia. it has the last tail. call me 

Liam jumps up from his desk so suddenly he nearly knocks it over. From the other end of the room, Brett is among the students staring at Liam in curiosity. 

“Mr. Dunbar—“ the teacher starts, but Liam just calls out, “It’s an emergency” over his shoulder and runs out of the room. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Liam mutters as he dials the numbers he knows by heart. 

Scott picks up on the second ring. “Liam?”

“Scott, I remember now, Kira says you all were rescuing Lydia when Allison died! It’s about to happen—“

“I know,” Scott says, and there’s the sound of his shaky breath over the phone. “Mrs. Yukimura says the Nogitsune took her last tail. She actually hid it in a different spot, even though she didn’t believe us. But it found it anyway. It has the Oni now.”

Liam swears and picks up his pace down the hall. “What happened? ”

“It’s been a crazy couple of days,” Scott says. “Sorry if this is a bad time—it was the first time I was able to get alone.” Liam starts to tell Scott it’s fine, but Scott keeps going. “Liam, the Nogitsune separated from Stiles, like you said.” There’s a huff, like a disbelieving almost-laugh. “Actually, exactly the way you said.”

Liam stops walking. “That’s good, right? That’s good.” 

“Yeah, but that’s the only good thing.” Scott sighs. “Liam—can you tell me where Lydia is?”

“Um, no,” Liam replies, heart sinking. 

“Oh. Okay.” There’s a pause, and Liam starts pacing again. He’s starting to feel pretty soundly useless again, right now. Actually, has his knowledge even helped anything at all? A thought hits him. “Scott, have you gotten any silver?” 

“Yeah,” Scott responds. “I talked to Argent. Implied that the Yukimuras had said something about the Onis’ weakness. He has some.”

“You all need some of that silver,” Liam says instantly.

“Yeah, I know,” Scott says. “We’ll all carry it.”

Liam wracks his brain, searching for anything else he may have forgotten. They have to be prepared, he has to have covered all of his bases. “And—and you got something for trapping the bug, right?”

Scott pauses for a moment, causing Liam’s heart to skip nervously—does Scott seriously not have anything? “I asked Mrs. Yukimura while she was telling the story of how she fought it the first time, about how she trapped it. After you brought it up that night,” he replies. “I’ll tell Stiles what she said, see if we can come up with something.”

“Do it,” Liam says emphatically. “Shoot, Scott—if you don’t have that, it could escape, and that would be bad, really, really bad. We have to end this, now.”  Liam adds a few curses under his breath, kicking himself that he hadn’t given Scott enough of a reminder earlier.

“Yes, we’re ending this,” Scott agrees, resolute.

Liam glances down the hallway. He’s made it nearly to the door to the outside, as if he were going to leave. But then what would he do? Find Lydia?

Not with his human sense of smell.

But just because he can’t track her scent, doesn’t mean he can’t do something else. 

Liam fists and unfists the hand not holding the phone. “Listen, Scott… when you find her, call me.”

“Liam,” Scott starts.

“I mean it,” Liam insists, desperate to get Scott to understand. “I’m coming. Please, Scott.” 

There’s a pause. Then, “Okay,” Scott says. And then he hangs up. 

The teacher confiscates Liam’s phone when he gets back to class, but Brett catches his eye and gives him a meaningful look.

Oh. Brett listened in to Liam’s whole conversation. 

Liam watches Brett, curious to ascertain what Brett’s thinking, but Brett just subtly taps his watch and refocuses on the whiteboard. Later.

When the bell rings and they’re back out in the hallway, Liam and Brett fall into step beside each other. The air between them is incredibly stilted. 

Brett breaks the silence after a few moments by saying, “Your Alpha sounded awfully close to you, for someone who just met you, and refused to even give you the Bite.”

“Scott’s pack isn’t just ‘wolves,” Liam replies. “There are several human members, actually. Whether or not he bit me doesn’t matter to him.” 

Brett raises an eyebrow. “That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, well, Scott doesn’t care.” Liam can feel his chest puffing in pride. “What matters to Scott isn’t what you are, but who you are.” 

Brett snorts. “Interesting.” They continue walking down the hall, until they turn a corner and come to a quieter spot. Brett stops walking. “Listen, Liam, I… was an ass. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Liam says quietly. 

“And if you uh, still want me to help…. I’m here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Liam nods, a spark of grateful hope growing in his chest. “Okay. Uh, thanks, Brett.” Liam extends a hand, to shake on it. “I promise I’m not going to be stupid and get you killed.”

Brett winces instead of taking Liam’s hand, looking really uncomfortable. “No, Liam, I was… I was wrong about you. I don’t think you’re going to get angry and get me killed. You—you actually do have control.” 

Brett doesn’t have to sound so surprised about it, Liam thinks, but he’ll take it, he supposes. 

Brett extends a hand of his own. “I promise to watch your back.”

“I promise to watch yours,” Liam says. 

They shake on it. 

The first thing Liam says after they shake is, “Do you have any silver?”

—-

Mason is practically bursting with curiosity when he gets the text from Liam at the end of the day. 

crisis alert. gotta be prepped for go time. meet @ my house. bringing brett 

Mason hasn’t heard an awful lot about Brett, but the little he has is significant, considering the way Liam dances around sensitive topics. Or, Mason supposes, the way Liam used to dance around them? (The time-traveling version of Liam has been a lot more forthcoming with his feelings. Mason puts that in a win column for healthy masculinity.) But the Liam who was actually fourteen had suspiciously avoided talking about Brett, in a way that Mason knows means the two had some issues. And then, the time-traveling version of Liam had dropped some tantalizing allusions to some crazy shenanigans from him and Brett being best werewolf frenemies, or something. And then had said Brett had died. 

What the hell.  

That was a lot of lore. And Mason, though trying to temper himself, due to the risk of being insensitive… has to know. 

Plus, Brett is a real, live werewolf . Mason is finally going to get to meet one. (Mason’s been trying not to be annoyed at Liam for not bringing him to meet Scott, but… curiosity is a bitch.)

So, Mason has arrived at Liam’s house posthaste, trowel-pike-thing in tow. Liam’s mom greeted him with snacks (as Mason surreptitiously hid the pike in his backpack), and it almost felt like a normal Monday afternoon. 

Maybe that was what has made the waiting start to get to him. Everything is being so normal, but Mason knows it’s anything but. Whatever “crisis alert” and “go time” means, Mason knows shit is about to get real. 

And Mason’s starting to realize he has no idea just how real, real will get. 

Mason’s leg has started to bounce uncontrollably under the Geyers’ living room table by the time Liam finally arrived… with the infamous Brett in tow. 

Liam didn’t tell Mason Brett was hot. 

(Is this a werewolf thing? Mason only glimpsed Future Liam for half a second, but he was also… uncomfortably attractive.)

Mason only drools for a couple seconds, he swears, before Liam shoots him a dirty look and subtly-not-so-subtly makes a throat-slitting stop it! gesture. 

Mason bugs his eyes at Liam, as in, you didn’t tell me Brett is six feet tall, built as fuck, and has gorgeous curls to boot! Lemme appreciate him in peace for a sec!

Liam gives him a flat look back, as in, I’m time-traveling Liam now, and I have no use for your distractions because I’ve got my super-serious crisis to handle, so stop having fun. Or something like that. 

Mrs. Geyer walks briskly over to the door. “Mason told me Liam was bringing a friend over from Devenford Prep. You must be Brett!” Liam sends Mason a new look, one that says, can I disappear through the floor now? “Come in, come in!” 

“Thank you for having me over, Mrs. Dunbar,” Brett says, perfectly polite and neutral. 

“It’s Mrs. Geyer now, but please, call me Jenna,” Liam’s mom says. “Would you like something to eat?”

While Brett gets swept up in hospitality niceties, Liam leans in to Mason and whispers, “Do you have the silver?”

“Yeah, dude, I’ve got the silver.” Mason whispers back. His eyes gravitate back towards. Brett. “You were so holding out on me, man, Brett is so h— “

“Shhh!” Liam whispers furiously. “He can hear you!” 

Mason whips his head back around to Brett. It takes him a second to figure out what Liam means. “Werewolf hearing?”

“Werewolf hearing,” Liam confirms.

“Siiiick,” Mason whispers. 

“Shh!” Liam repeats. 

“Hey, Liam!” Brett calls over. “Do you mind if I put my stuff in your room?” He gives a subtle nod upstairs, probably anxious to start setting up shop. 

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” Liam says hastily, scrambling over to the stairs. “Here, let me show you.” 

“Have fun!” Mrs. Geyer calls as they all start ascending. Mason appreciates her. She’s very nice, even if Liam gets a little embarrassed.

Liam shuts the door quickly as soon as they’ve all piled into his room. “Okay. So, um. Sorry about that.” He gestures between them. “Mason, this is Brett. Brett, Mason.”

“Hi,” Mason says meekly with a small, half-wave, feeling suddenly very shy under Brett’s full attention. (His eyes are blue. Mason wonders what they look like when they glow like Liam’s described. In fact, Mason has to refrain himself, hard, from asking Brett to do the glow-eyes thing right now.)

“Hi,” Brett echoes, nodding and giving Mason a two-finger salute.

“Right,” Liam says, clapping his hands together. “Scott hasn’t texted me since this afternoon, so I know they haven’t found Lydia yet, but we need to be ready to go as soon as he does. Before then, let’s do a full debrief.”

Brett half-raises a hand lazily, as if this is class or something. “Yeah, question. Who’s Lydia?” 

Mason puts his own hand up, because he supposes he was wondering that too. “Seconded.”

“She’s part of Scott’s pack,” Liam explains. “She’s a banshee. The Nogitsune just kidnapped her.”

“Um… what’s a banshee, then?” Mason asks.

Liam gives him an impatient look. “They’re kind of psychic, and can predict the future sometimes. Mostly about death. Also Lydia can kick your ass with her scream. I mean, that part isn’t really relevant right now, though, so if you could just let me—“

“I mean it kind of does sound relevant, though,” Mason puts in. “You said she predicts the future about death, right? And Allison is supposed to die during this fight.”

Liam blinks. “I … yeah, I didn’t think about that.”

“Hey, uh, time out,” Brett says, making the T motion. “You said you’d start from the beginning, right?”

“Um, yeah. I was trying to get there,” Liam says.

“Sorry,” Mason says, and motions for Liam to go on. 

Liam tells Brett everything they currently know about the Nogitsune and the Oni, and then gives him the recap of what happened during Liam’s original timeline. Brett seems to keep getting caught up on the who’s who of Scott’s pack. 

“Who’s this Stiles, again? The one that got possessed?” 

“Scott’s best friend.”

“No, I mean, like, and what is he?”

“No, Brett, he’s not what anything, he’s human.”

“But you said he was, like, pretty much second in command of the pack.”

“He is!” 

And: 

“Who’s Kira?”

“Oh, she’s Mrs. Yukimura’s daughter. She dated Scott for a while in my timeline, I guess.”

“Wait—Mrs. Yukimura’s her mom? So she’s a kitsune?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Liam, she’s—she can’t be part of the pack. Foxes and wolves don’t get along. It’s, like, one of the number one things Satomi always says.”

“She’s part of this pack,” Liam shrugs.

But then Brett asks about Allison. 

“You keep mentioning that this Allison is supposed to die. Who is she?”

“…Scott’s ex girlfriend.” 

“…Dude, why do I have to keep asking this. I mean, like, what else is she?”

“She’s human. She’s… um… she’s from a hunting family. She’s a hunter.” Dead silence. “She’s Allison Argent.”

“ Argent?” Brett yells. 

“Wait,” Mason interjects, because this is starting to get into juicy detail he hadn’t been privy to. “Scott, a werewolf, dated a werewolf hunter?” 

“…Pretty sure she was the love of his life, yeah.” 

Brett storms up to Liam. “You’re asking me to risk my life for an Argent. Do you have any idea what that means? An Argent? ”

Liam glares. “She and her dad aren’t like the rest of them.”

“Argent,” Mason mutters, because the name sounds like it’s significant, and something about the word is niggling his brain. 

“Oh, sure, she wasn’t like the rest,” Brett scoffs. 

“I’ve been hunted, okay? I don’t take hunters lightly. But she didn’t follow the old hunter code. She created a new code,” Liam snaps. “ Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes. You know what that means? We protect those who can’t protect themselves!”

It’s the French that provides the final clue. “Argent,” Mason gasps. “ Silver .”

Both Liam and Brett turn to glare at him at the same time. Liam’s glare says something like, Dude, shut up, you’re not helping! Brett’s just looks like more of a garden-variety kind of pissed.

“Sorry,” Mason squeaks.

“Look, I never met Allison,” Liam says. “But her dad never broke her code after her death. And later on, um, last year, there was a big new hunter attack, and it was getting bad. Allison’s dad fought on our side. Against other hunters.” 

Brett stares at him. “Do you even realize how insane that sounds?” 

“Argent’s saved my life, like, so many times. And yours, for that matter. Do you know how helpful it is to have a hunter on your side?”

“There is no such thing as a hunter on your side!” 

“I mean, we do the same thing, though, so, like, why wouldn’t we be on the same side?” Brett looks even more incredulous now. “Scott’s pack. We follow Allison’s code, too. Because we protect Beacon Hills against anyone or anything that might try to harm it.” 

Brett takes a step back, shaking his head, in what seems like disbelief. “Your entire pack’s nuts, then.” 

“Just because we help people?”

“Liam, that sounds like suicide. I mean, look what happened to…” Brett trails off. 

Liam gives him a significant look. “What happened to Allison?”

Brett stays silent. 

Liam looks down at his feet and shuffles them. “Look, I’m not going to tell you that it comes without risks. Allison died saving her friends. Her pack. But is that not a reason to give her a chance to live, instead?”

Brett’s eyeing Liam more in confusion than consternation, now. But before Brett has a chance to say anything, all the revelations about Allison’s family history have piqued Mason’s curiosity, and he finds himself asking, “Liam… why do you really want to save Allison? You never met her.”

Liam half-squints and plays with his hands, the way he does when he’s pondering something. Finally, he says, “Allison was always Scott’s biggest regret. He carried around this… constant grief, that never went away. I think I could tell, even before I knew any of Scott’s history. She was the first person he felt like he got killed, even though he respected her choice to fight. I mean, she was just doing what the rest of them were doing, trying to rescue her friend.” Liam gives a half shrug. “I don’t know, I guess part of it’s just that… I don’t want Scott to have to carry that burden anymore.” Liam looks back up from his hands. “I think I’m also doing it because, even if I never met her, it almost feels like I did. We were trying to honor her memory, every day. She just—she didn’t deserve to die, so I don’t want her to. And even if it wasn’t just her, I could never live with myself if I could save someone’s life, but I stepped aside and did nothing instead! I can’t do that.”

Brett folds his arms. “So you’re saving your Alpha’s hunter ex-girlfriend… just because you feel like it’s the right thing to do?”

“Yes!” Liam exclaims, waving his arms. “Look, you want to know how I got control over my anger? I put it somewhere else. I fight something to protect people. When I can save people, that’s when I’m finally doing something with my life.” His voice softens. “It means everything to me.”

Mason feels a thick swell of tangled emotion fill his chest. Liam sounds so… mature, like the eighteen-year-old he apparently is. He sounds like he’s been through so much pain. He sounds like a hero. He sounds completely, far and away, beyond Mason, fourteen-year-old  shoe and video game enjoyer. 

Brett seems to see something of what Mason does in Liam at that moment, because he runs a hand down his face and says, “Okay, whatever.” It doesn’t sound dismissive, the way Brett says it, and something passes between Liam and Brett in that moment that Mason isn’t privy to.

Then the moment breaks, and Brett goes to his backpack and starts to unzip it. “You said you wanted to see the knife?”

“Wait, knife?” Mason asks. 

Brett pulls out a bundle of cloth, unwraps it, and lifts out an actual dagger. “This one.”

Liam and Mason both come closer to peer at it. It’s fairly dull, with black spots of oxidation riddling the blade and the intricate scrollwork of the handle. “Wait,” Mason breathes. “Is that—“

“Silver,” Brett says, tone mild but smug. 

“Brett’s family has an heirloom silver dagger,” Liam explains.

“Whoa.” Then the irony hits Mason. “…Is that, like, some sort of elaborate werewolf joke?” 

Brett shrugs. 

“The important part is,” Liam says. “That thing is, like, way better than our weapons, so together, we actually stand a chance.”

Mason raises his hand. (Brett must have rubbed off on him or something.) “Can we go over what the plan is, like, once we actually get Scott’s text? 

Liam rubs the back of his neck. “Our plan is stealth support.” He turns to Brett. “So far, Mason and I have been doing everything we can to make sure the Nogitsune doesn’t know about me.”

Mason nods.

“It’s for two reasons.” Liam puts up one finger. “One, we know Scott and his pack beat the Nogitsune last time, they just didn't all, uh, make it. So that means that if we let things run their course without changing anything besides saving the people who died, we’ll end up with the best case scenario.”

“And,” Mason interjects, “time travel rules mean that anything we change can have a butterfly effect with consequences on everything else. The less we change, the more control we have over the situation.”

Brett nods neutrally. 

“Second,” Liam puts up another finger. “The Nogitsune treats everything like it’s this big game of Go. Our best chance to outwit it is to avoid even being players. The less it knows about us, the less it can stop us. That’s why I’ve asked Scott to keep my existence extremely quiet.”

“So…” Brett says. “So how do we help anything if we’re too busy not being noticed?”

“We stay out of the way until the moment we’re needed,” Liam says. “Element of surprise.”

“Are we, like, hiding in the bushes or something, then?” Mason asks.

Liam shrugs. “Kind of, I guess.” He turns to Brett and narrows his eyes. “It would mean less danger, if you’re worried about risking your life for an Argent. ”

Mason nearly facepalms. “ Liam… ” he groans.

Brett steps in front of Liam, in a gesture of posturing that looks highly effective to Mason. “Don’t forget why you asked me here. You,” he says, shoving Liam lightly on the chest, “ need me.” As he points to himself, his eyes change—suddenly, they’re glowing yellow. 

Mason hides his mouth behind his hands to tamp down his visible excitement. Brett’s doing the thing, the werewolf thing! 

Liam doesn’t seem fazed. “I’m just making sure we understand each other,” he grouses. “If you’re not going to really help when it counts, I don’t, actually, need you.” 

“Uh,” Mason pipes up, and he’s met with twin glares, again . Geez, what is Mason, chopped liver? “How about we wait for that text, yeah?” 

Liam’s the first to acquiesce. He nods. “Yeah. First, we wait.”

Chapter Text

They wait a really long time. 

Brett’s the first to simply start doing homework, and Mason follows suit. Liam has a textbook open on his lap, but the words swim before his eyes, meaningless. 

Liam hasn’t been this nervous before a fight since his first, when Scott had gotten Kira to make him look dead so they could try to identify the Benefactor. And Liam certainly can’t forget how that went down.

Berserkers still stalk Liam’s nightmares, sometimes. It’s the worst when it’s the berserker that turned out to actually be Scott. Like… like the dream Liam had last night. Liam had been fighting Berserker Scott, but as he’d taken a swipe at Scott’s chest plate to keep him back, Liam’s claws had disappeared, and then his strength had sapped. He was human. And then Berserker Scott had gotten him by the neck, lifting him off the ground and choking and choking…

Liam rises from his bed, textbook flopping off of his lap haphazardly, and starts to pace. 

“Stop that, will you?” Brett groans. 

“Sorry,” Liam says. He forcibly plants his feet in the middle of the room.

His attempt at staying still only lasts about two seconds, before he starts rocking back and forth on his feet.

It’s getting dark outside. Lydia’s been taken for more than half a day—no, longer, if Liam understood Scott right. What’s taking them so long? Has something changed? Has the Nogitsune figured out what’s up and—

Liam’s phone chimes.

oak creek. its an old japanese intermnet camp from wwii. come NOW

Liam scoops up his backpack with his improvised weapon and practically runs to the door. “It’s time!”

Mason jumps up. “Oh God, it’s happening.”

Brett rolls his eyes at them and just packs up his homework calmly. Then the three make their way down the stairs.

“Liam?” his mom calls from her office. She must be busy working.

“What?” 

“Say goodbye to your friends for me, hun!” His mom has assumed that Mason and Brett are getting picked up, because that’s what would happen if they were normal teenagers on a normal Monday evening.

“Okay!” Liam calls back.

They make it out the door before Liam realizes that, this whole time, he’d been operating on the assumption that he’d be driving them.

Fourteen-year-old Liam doesn’t have a license. 

“Um, Liam?” Brett asks, as they stand there on the front stoop. “Where’s our ride?”

Liam pauses a moment more, and then decides, fuck it.

Liam turns right back around, unlocks the house, and makes for where his mom keeps her keys—conveniently next to the door. He carefully grabs them by the metal parts to keep them from jangling, and then he slowly backs out.

As Liam closes the front door again, keys in hand, Mason’s eyes bug when he sees. “No way, Liam, your mom’s going to kill you!” Mason whispers furiously.

“I have my license,” Liam shrugs, though internally his mind is also screaming, Your mom’s going to kill you!

“Yeah, the you that’s eighteen, ” Mason whispers, gesticulating wildly. “Liam—”

“Get in,” Liam just says, unlocking the door to his mom’s car and getting into the drivers’ seat. He starts adjusting the seat posthaste, because he needs an embarrassing amount of help to see the road properly at his current height. 

Brett gets into the backseat without a fuss, a bored expression on his face, like he couldn’t care less. Liam appreciates Brett right now.

“What about the cops?!” Mason is still standing at the passenger side, clutching his arms to his chest and looking around wildly.

“The Sheriff is Stiles’s dad. He knows about the supernatural,” Liam says. “I’m not worried about cops.”

Mason gives another terrified look around. Then he scrambles inside, muttering curses under his breath the whole time. 

Liam starts the car and pulls out of the driveway before Mason, or he, can change his mind.

Mason’s still not willing to let it drop, however. “Couldn’t we have, like, called my parents? Or Brett’s? Come on, Liam, this is crazy .”

“It’s an emergency, we do stuff like this in emergencies. Get used to it,” Liam snipes. “And which one of our parents is going to drive us to an abandoned World War II internment camp on a school night?” Liam especially wouldn’t want to ask Brett for a ride, considering his ride is Satomi. Also known as his Alpha , and Liam’s going to take a wild guess and say that she wouldn’t be too happy about Brett going on a rescue mission for someone else’s pack on a school night.

Mason still looks like he’s about to have a heart attack, but he settles slowly into his seat. 

“Can someone look up directions?” Liam asks. 

“On it,” Brett replies. 

Before too long, they’re finally in the vicinity of the camp. Liam takes a page out of Scott’s book and turns the car onto the side of the road a few hundred feet out underneath a shadowy copse of trees, so they might have a better shot at going unnoticed. 

Mason has sobered during the drive there, as though the gravity of the situation has finally settled over them all. They don’t speak as they grab their silver weapons and shut the car doors as quietly as possible.

As they draw closer, they eventually get to an overgrown, wrought iron fence. Liam stares up at it and allows himself a moment of nostalgia for when he could scale that and jump right over, no big deal.

“Brett?” Liam turns. “Can you give us a hand?”

Grumbling, Brett does so. It gets a little dicey for a second, with Mason, but Liam and Mason manage to get over, with just a couple bruises. Once they’re over, of course, Brett clears it in one fancy leap.

“Whoa,” Mason breathes. Liam rolls his eyes and gestures them forward.

Liam directs them to crouch down in a small ditch behind some sort of dilapidated shed. “Brett?” he asks at a whisper. “Do you have a scent?”

Brett starts to shake his head, then pauses. “It’s faint, like it might be hidden, or underground. But it’s angry. Very angry.” 

“The Nogitsune,” Liam murmurs. 

Brett stills. “Cars. Someone’s coming.”

They all duck. 

After half a minute, headlights appear, and the sound of gravel crackling under car tires echoes over the deserted yard. Car doors slam. Another car arrives. Through the entangled vines covering the front gates, Liam can just make out the distinctive hue of Stiles’s jeep. 

“They’re here,” Liam whispers. “Scott’s pack.”

The group gathers together in front of the gates before going in.

“Hey, uh, Brett,” Mason whispers. “What are they saying?”

“The Alpha’s giving some sort of…speech,” Brett says, and he looks like he’s refraining himself from making a sarcastic joke. Liam appreciates the courtesy. 

Liam squints, trying to make out who’s who. He recognizes Scott’s form right, away, and Stiles. The tall one must be Isaac—Liam met him only a couple times. Kira he knows by her dark hair. And beside her, there’s a girl with a crossbow.

Liam sucks in a breath. “Allison. That’s her.”

Mason places a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “She’s not dying today.”

Liam gives a shaky nod.

“That’s still the strangest ‘pack’ I’ve ever seen,” Brett mutters. 

Scott’s pack finishes with the meeting and marches forward. As they do so, Mrs. Yukimura materializes from the other direction, flanked by a squadron of Oni. Brett leans forward, eyes wide. “Are those—”

“Yeah,” Liam confirms. “Those are the things we’re fighting.”

“Kira, turn around and go home,” Mrs. Yukimura calls. “Take your friends with you.”

Kira advances on her mother with confident strides. Allison nocks a bow threateningly by her side, Isaac standing at the ready, while Scott and Stiles jog off in a different direction. “I can’t,” Kira says. “When I looked at the game, I realized who I was actually playing. You.”

“Call them off,” Allison orders, pointing her arrow at Mrs. Yukimura.

“You think you could take him alive?” Mrs. Yukimura retorts. “You think you can save him?”

“What if we can?” Kira says.

“I tried something like that 70 years ago. Your friend is gone.”

“Are you sure?” Kira argues, stepping closer. “Or if Stiles doesn’t have to die, maybe Rhys didn’t have to die, either.”

As one, the Oni whirl their swords and settle into threatening stances.

“Liam,” Brett whispers, sounding panicked. “I can’t fight those things.”

“I see I’m no longer the Fox now, Kira,” Mrs. Yukimura says. “You are. But the Nogitsune is still my demon to bury.”

And then the Oni vanish into black smoke. 

“Holy shit,” Mason whispers in fear. 

Isaac turns his head in their direction. “Wait,” he says. “I think someone else might be here.”

Liam, Brett and Mason jerk down to their hiding spots with muffled curses. 

Footsteps start to approach, but then they stop suddenly.

“Mom!” Kira says. She sounds alarmed.

“What is that?” Isaac asks. “What does that mean?” 

“It means there’s been a change in ownership.” The sound of boots marching echoes across the yard, and Liam risks a glance. It’s Stiles, followed by the Oni. But… no, that wouldn’t be Stiles.

That would be the Nogitsune.

Liam turns to his friends and jerks a thumb urgently at the Nogitsune, as in, the big boss just showed up. Mason shrinks down into the ditch as far as he can go.

“Now they belong to me,” the Nogitsune says, with Stiles’s voice. 

The Oni draw their swords. And then they attack. 

Mrs. Yukimura and the Nogitsune duck quickly out of the ensuing fray. Kira yells as she slashes furiously with her katana, Isaac growls and shifts into his wolf form, and Allison draws her bow. 

“With me,” Liam whispers, and he begins creeping, slouched down, in the direction of where Allison is fighting, determined to shadow her. 

Brett tugs his shirt, eyes wide. “What are you doing? They’re going to see you!”

Suddenly, there’s a bright flash of light, and both of them look up to see Isaac crouched over the body of an Oni, a silver dagger in its heart. The Oni disintegrates with a thunderous crack.

“Yes!” Liam whisper-exclaims. 

The rest of the Oni suddenly turn, in eerie unison, and begin advancing on Isaac. Allison shoots an arrow at an Oni, but it slices the arrow out of the air with its blade. Isaac jumps back just in time to avoid a vicious slash for his neck, but he gets another slash right across the chest. 

Kira rushes the advancing Oni from behind with her sword. One whirls to face her and parries her slash with a clang , but it wasn’t expecting the silver dagger in her other hand. Another Oni down. 

“Holy shit, the silver’s working!” Mason whispers excitedly, having finally decided to peer in on the action. 

Liam scans the battlefield warily. He’s really changed something, now. But that means he doesn’t know what’s next.

There’s a flicker of movement at the other edge of the yard, and that’s when Liam realizes.

The Nogitsune. It’s going to escape. 

Liam’s heart skips a beat at the idea of a Nogitsune out on the loose, with Liam’s knowledge now useless to predict what it’ll do.

His mind blanks. Then, before he knows it, he's gripped his pike and started sprinting for it. 

“Liam!” Mason’s voice cries from behind him. Liam's feet keep running. 

Suddenly, someone knocks into Liam from the side, and there are arms around his shoulders. It’s Scott. “Liam, I’ve got it. Go.”

Liam’s full body relaxes instinctively, and he nods. Scott gives him one last concerned backward glance, and then rushes the Nogitsune himself. Liam sees Scott tackle it, and he lets out a breath of relief. Scott’s got this handled, for now. But he also needs Kira for the final step, Liam remembers.

Kira. Liam’s got to go get Kira. Liam turns back around and sprints back towards the main fight. 

Brett falls into step beside him. “What the hell was that, Liam? I thought you were going to die!”

“We changed things. No point in hiding around any longer,” Liam explains distractedly. He scans the battlefield. There’s just three Oni left. Kira is engaging one in a duel. Isaac is weaving in between two others, getting a nasty slash to his calf for his troubles, while Allison lines up a shot behind him.

She looses the arrow. It lands perfectly. Three down, two to go. 

But the other Oni that was fighting Isaac seems to take offense, and gives Isaac a nasty bash on the head, before swirling around towards Allison.

“No!” Liam cries, and before he knows what he’s doing, he’s jumping between them, stabbing wildly.

Liam’s pike glances harmlessly off a brace guard on the Oni’s wrist. Motion unchecked, its sword pierces Liam in the shoulder.

Pain erupts from the wound, and Allison yelps in surprise from behind him. Liam feels his knees give way. Fuck, getting stabbed as a human is a bitch. 

The Oni barely has time to wrench its sword from Liam’s shoulder, in a motion that makes Liam cry out and his vision swim, before a figure Liam thinks is Brett jumps it from behind, and there’s that flash of light again that must mean he’s killed it.

The world lurches, and Liam realizes he’s on the ground. 

“Shit shit shit shit,” Mason’s voice comes barreling in. “Liam,  you’ve got to be okay, please tell me you’re okay, oh God—”

Liam tries to lift his head, and see what’s going on with the last Oni. Kira. He still has to tell Kira. “She’s got to get to Scott.”

A gentle hand shoves his good shoulder back down, and then moves to put pressure on the wound. Liam bites back a yell from the pain. “Stop, stop, don’t try to get up,” Mason says quickly. “Liam, who has to get to Scott?”

“Kira,” Liam ekes out. “The divine move.”

“Kira,” Mason’s eyes widen. He looks up and says it louder. “Kira!”

There’s a thunderclap noise that indicates the last Oni’s been killed. 

“Who the hell are you?” Isaac’s voice says at the same time. 

“No time to explain,” Mason says hurriedly. “Kira, you’ve got to get to Scott. He’s got the Nogitsune, but only the two of you together can defeat it!”

“How do you know about the Nogitsune,” Allison interrogates, voice steely calm. 

“You could say we’re the… secret backup plan?” Mason tries.

“All of you, he’s telling the truth,” Brett interjects. “Kira, just go !”

There’s the sound of running footsteps, and Liam moans in relief.

“Liam, stay with me,” Mason says. “It’s going to be okay.” His voice sounds far away.

“Mmhm.” 

“Liam!”

And Liam knows no more.

Chapter Text

Scott’s stomach erupts in bile as his teeth sink into the Nogitsune’s (Stiles’s) flesh, just as Kira pierces its heart with a sword. 

As they predicted, the fly comes buzzing out. Scott hurriedly drops the Nogitsune’s arm and fishes out the triskelion box Stiles and Deaton had decided upon as the fly’s prison. In one, quick motion, he traps the fly into the box and screws the lid on, tight.

The body that looks like Stiles’s cracks like clay in the sun and shatters into dust. 

Kira looks down at the dust at her feet, then at Scott, eyes wide and excited. “Scott,” she says. 

“We won,” Scott breathes. 

They embrace. Scott listens to the pumping of Kira’s heartbeat and feels the warmth of her skin, vital and alive. 

This reminds him of the others. Allison. Scott jumps back, eyes wide with the realization, and the two sprint for the open yard where the rest are. 

His pulse jumps when he sees one of them lying on the ground, multiple people crouched beside the body. “Allis—“ he starts, but he cuts off as he sees her figure among those standing. 

Scott reaches the huddle and pushes through to see who it is. 

His heart clenches. “Liam!” 

There’s a short, black kid around Liam’s age kneeling over Liam who Scott recognizes as Mason by description. “We need to get him to a hospital,” Mason says desperately. There’s another kid Scott doesn’t recognize ripping a strip out of his shirt to serve as a makeshift bandage. 

Scott scans Liam for wounds, dreading what he’ll find.

“Scott, you know this kid?” Isaac asks, indicating Liam.

“Yeah,” Scott murmurs. “I’ll explain later.” Just a stab wound in the shoulder, as far as Scott can see. Liam might end up okay, if they can just get him to a hospital. Thank God. As the kid Scott doesn’t recognize finishes tying the bandage, Scott slides one hand under Liam’s torso and another under his head. “Someone help me get him to a car.”

The kid jumps over to take Liam’s feet. Scott eyes him. Just how many of Liam’s friends did he bring on this mission of his? They’re going to have to have a chat about that when Liam wakes up.

When , not if. When.

“Everyone else okay?” Scott asks, scanning the rest of the group as he and the nameless kid lift Liam up and start walking towards the gates, Mason trailing behind.

Isaac and Kira nod. Allison just stares at Liam’s unconscious form, a strange look on her face. “He just—he came out of nowhere. He jumped right in front of me,” she murmurs.  

The sound of a car pulling up reaches Scott’s hearing, and he recognizes it as Argent’s. Argent jogs over to Scott. “What happened?” 

“The kid got stabbed,” Scott says. “He’s human. He needs the hospital.”

“I’ll drive,” Argent says as he, too, scans the scene, clearly checking to make sure everyone is alright. 

At this moment, Lydia and Stiles come bursting out of the tunnels. They notice Scott and make for him right away.

 “The Nogitsune, is he gone?” Stiles asks breathlessly as he walks alongside Scott.

“Yeah,” Scott says. “Gone.” 

“Who’s that?” Lydia asks, eyeing Liam. Scott tries to hide the hitch in his breathing as the banshee studies Liam’s unconscious form. He hopes she’s not about to say anything that implies Liam’s going to die.

“Liam. I’ll explain later,” Scott says. 

They reach Argent’s SUV, and Scott and the other kid drape Liam gingerly across the seats at the very back. 

“Scott,” Lydia murmurs for his ears only. “I almost screamed for Allison.”

“She’s fine,” Scott says. “Actually, Liam saved her life.”

Lydia gives Liam a fresh contemplative look. 

Scott gets in the middle row of the SUV on the side near Liam’s head and slams the door. Liam’s friend mirrors him, while Mason, having arrived last, runs around to the shotgun seat. No sooner are they all inside than Argent hits the gas, and they’re off. 

As soon as they’ve left the bumpy parking lot, which necessitates Scott and the kid’s concentration to keep Liam from getting jostled around, Scott fixes his gaze on the kid. He smells like a beta. 

“Who are you?” Scott asks. 

“Brett,” the kid says. “I’m his friend.”

Scott frowns. “You live in Beacon Hills?” Unsaid, but implied: and I never caught your scent?

“My pack doesn’t like to get involved,” Brett murmurs, so quietly it takes Scott’s enhanced hearing to pick it up. Brett shoots a furtive glance at the driver’s seat, and Scott understands.

“You have nothing to fear from Argent,” Scott says, equally quietly. 

Brett just shakes his head, and takes an anxious glance back at Liam. 

“We’re going to make sure he’s okay,” Scott reassures him. 

“And if that wound would kill a human?” Brett says, eyes meeting Scott’s with a sudden sharp gaze. 

Scott turns away to look back at Liam. His heart gives a tug at the sight of the kid, so energetic and full of life, looking like that. Liam had only crash-landed into Scott’s life a few days ago, but something in Scott feels as though it’s been much longer. 

He needs Liam to be okay.

“I’ll take care of it,” Scott whispers. 

—-

The hallway at the hospital gets pretty crowded, fast. 

First, the rest of the group at Oak Creek arrive. Scott gives Stiles a long, cathartic hug. Then, he turns and, with only a moment’s hesitation, wraps Allison in an embrace. Isaac and Allison stiffen, but Scott can’t bring himself to care. He closes his eyes and inhales her scent. She’s alive. Allison’s alive.

“Scott—“ Allison says finally, and she does a slight squirm. Scott releases her quickly. 

Before Scott can explain, Lydia steps in. “Allison,” she whispers. “You were supposed to die.” 

Allison and Isaac’s eyes widen. 

Liam’s mom bursts in next, and she’s absolutely frantic. Apparently, Liam’s stepfather is a doctor here, and he’d called her first thing, out of his mind with worry. Mason and Brett stumble through Argent’s coached story of a carjacking, but Liam’s mother is still nowhere close to satisfied. Apparently, Liam had hijacked the family car to get to Oak Creek. Mason and Brett have the faces of doomed men, but Liam’s mother quickly forgets them, for the moment, as a nurse calls her over to let her into the operating room before surgery.

Then Derek, Ethan and Aiden show up, around the same time that Scott’s mom, having clearly gotten wind of the commotion, emerges from the elevator. Scott gives them a quick but detailed rundown of what happened. 

Derek’s eyes drift to Brett. His nostrils flare, scenting him, and his eyes narrow. “You’re from Satomi’s pack,” he states. “What are you doing here?”

Brett glances in alarm in Argent’s direction, but the man remains impassive. 

“Liam’s my friend,” Brett says, sounding a little defensive. 

“Yeah, about that. Everyone’s here now, so I think we deserve a little bit of an explanation about Liam. Like, for example, who is this kid?” Stiles gripes. “Scott?”

“Um…” Scott scans the loose circle of curious faces surrounding him, suddenly feeling a sense of foreboding that this might not go down too well. “He’s… my beta. From the future.” 

“The future?” Lydia questions, incredulous. Isaac whirls around and stares at the door to the operating room like it’s about to morph into a wormhole. 

“Yeah, um, I thought it was nuts, too, but he was right about everything, guys. He’s the one who knew about the silver. He saved us.”

“Yeah, uh, question,” Isaac says. “If he’s your beta, why is he… like, ten. And human.”

“His consciousness is eighteen, but his body is still fourteen,” Mason interjects. Everyone turns to look at him, and he seems to shrink back from the attention. “Um, hi, I’m Mason. Liam’s friend,” he adds in a small voice. 

“You bit someone?” Stiles puts in.

Scott winces, not glad Stiles caught that. “He says I did it to save his life,” he says weakly.

“I think the better question is, Scott, why didn’t you tell us?” Allison asks, voice firm. 

Scott looks back to Mason, then at the floor, guilt blooming in his chest. “It was because of the Nogitsune,” he says finally. “He said he wanted to avoid being a piece on its game board, at all costs.”

“Because if he was a piece on the board, it would see him coming,” Kira says in realization. 

Scott extends a gesture towards her, as in, yeah, exactly. “He said you’re the one who told him the story about what happened with the Nogitsune, actually.” 

Kira blinks. “Me.” She turns to look at the door to the operating room, too.

“Why was he here tonight?” Lydia asks, tone serious. “Why tonight, and not before?” She gives Scott a hard look, and Scott feels his heart drop in anticipation. He evades her gaze.

“Because someone was supposed to die tonight,” he admits. 

“Me,” Allison whispers. 

Everyone looks at her. Argent’s face contorts in pain and horror. 

At this moment, Liam’s mother comes out of the operating room, practically being pushed by a nurse. She stops to look at the extensive assembly of them and frowns, wiping away tears from her eyes. “Who are you?”

“We’re his friends,” Scott replies in the most reassuring tone he can manage. 

Liam’s mom surveys them, clearly not sure if she believes them, but she settles into a chair. Scott’s mom goes over to talk to her, and the pack takes this cue to disperse a little, as if to ease Liam’s mom’s suspicion. 

“Scott,” Allison calls softly. Scott goes to her. She lowers her voice. “Did he really say that I… that I died?”

Scott can’t find his voice, and he nods. 

“Lydia told me she was about to scream for me.” Allison hugs her arms around herself. “I guess it still just doesn’t feel… real.”

“You’re here now,” Scott says. He tries for a soothing tone, but it comes out as more of a croak. 

“I’m here now,” Allison repeats. She smiles.

Chapter Text

There’s a steady beeping next to Liam’s ear. It’s annoying. 

He opens his eyes, and the task feels far too laborious. It’s this familiar difficulty that makes Liam recognize what’s going on. He’s been hurt. He’s in the hospital.

Oh. Right. The Oni stabbed him.

His vision takes a second to resolve. The figure next to his bed becomes his stepdad, and Liam smiles. “Hey.”

“Oh, Liam,” Dr. Geyer says, and he swoops down for a delicate hug.

“They said you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” his mom says as she appears over Dr. Geyer’s shoulder. She leans in for her own hug. “You had us so worried,” she sniffles. 

Liam looks up at them, and a twinge of guilt sets in. He avoided scenes like this for so many years through his supernatural healing, as getting stabbed became just a regular Tuesday for him. Supernatural healing or no, his wound still doesn’t feel like anything other than ordinary to Liam. But he hasn’t considered what seeing him like this must feel for his parents. Even after they’d found out he was a werewolf six months ago, in Liam’s timeline, Liam had still kept most of his wounds from them. Probably because it would have made them react exactly like this. 

Liam coughs. He’s parched. “Water?” he croaks. 

His mom practically scrambles to get water for him, and Liam blissfully drinks in the cool liquid. 

“Not too much,” Dr. Geyer warns, and he takes the glass from Liam after he’s downed a couple swallows. 

Liam tries to prop himself up on his elbows, and is promptly shooed down by his stepdad. It hurts to a degree he wasn’t expecting, and he’s reminded again that getting hurt as a human sucks .

“Can I see Mason? And Brett?” Liam asks. 

His parents exchange looks. “You can see Mason, honey, Liam’s mom says. 

Liam groans. “Mom, Brett had nothing to do with what happened. It was all on me.”

“We‘ll talk about this later,” Liam’s mom says. 

“You’ll have a couple minutes, after they come in to give you some painkillers,” Dr. Geyer says, rising to leave the room. 

Oh shit. Liam’s been poisoned too often to be comfortable with being drugged. He also hates needles. “Wait,” he protests weakly. “I don’t think—“

Liam’s mom shakes her head. “It’ll all be okay, hun, just listen to your doctors.” 

Liam steels himself carefully while the nurses give him the good stuff, and then Mason is allowed in. 

The first thing Liam says is, “The Nogitsune, did they get it?”

“Whoa, chill, Liam, you got stabbed, man,” Mason says. “Yes, they got it. It’s defeated.” 

“And everyone’s okay?”

“Yeah, uh, the only casualty was you.” Mason shakes his head and draws closer. “Liam, that was the most terrifying experience of my entire life. I… kind of thought you were going to die.” 

“I didn’t,” Liam just says.

Mason looks like he’s about to say something, but stops himself. He sits down in the chair vacated by Liam’s stepfather. 

“You did it, Liam,” Mason says finally. “You saved Allison.”

“I did,” Liam says. A smile grows across his face. “I did it. She’s alive.”

“Yeah,” Mason smiles. 

“I get to meet her now.” Liam thinks back to the time Kira told him about Allison. Kira would be so happy. “I never got to meet her, and now I do.”

“Yes you do.”

He starts imagining what Scott, his Scott, would think if he knew, and it instantly makes Liam want to cry. “I want Scott to be happy. He should be happy.” Liam frowns. It’s getting harder to think. “She’s kind of scary, though. I hope she doesn’t shoot me.”

“Liam, she’s not going to shoot you,” Mason says, looking amused. Mason’s face looks a little weird. Kind of like… “Baby,” Liam says, gesturing with his free arm. “Babyyyy fffacccce.”

“Oookay, Liam, I think that’s my cue to leave,” Mason says. 

“Nnooo.” Liam doesn’t want Mason to leave, like he was afraid of when Mason was the Beast. But then he remembers. “Ohhhhh, wwe gotthe Beasssst out.”

Mason’s face blurs. “Huh?”

And maybe the Beast would never get Mason, in the first place! Maybe they’ll fix everything. “Nnno mmore lib— li— br’y.”

Then the drugs take him all the way to sleep.

—-

The next time Liam awakes, he thinks he’s still under, because the first face he sees is—is actually Allison’s. 

“Hey there,” Allison says. “I was told you’d like to meet me.” 

“Allison?” Liam unconsciously tries to sit up straighter, and winces when that proves to be a supremely bad idea. 

“Ssh,” she smirks, bringing a hand to her lips. “I’m not supposed to be in here. We had to call in a favor from Scott’s mom.”

“Scott’s mom is awesome,” Liam blurts inanely. 

“She totally is.” Allison’s expression grows more serious. “Hey, I… wanted to thank you. Heard you saved my life, in more than one way.” 

Liam finds it very hard to meet her gaze. “It’s no problem.”

“Seriously,” Allison says. “ Thank you. ” She looks down. “I don’t… I don’t know what it would do to my dad, if he lost me, too.”

“He followed your code,” Liam murmurs. “We all did. Nous protégeons ceux qui ne peuvent pas se protéger eux-mêmes. ”

Allison sniffles and wipes her nose with her sleeve. “Sorry.”

“No, no, seriously, it’s okay,” Liam says quickly.

Allison makes a sound that’s part inhale, part laugh, and part sob. 

“Hey, uh…” Liam starts. “I don’t know how much you’d want to know, about what happened when you were… uh, gone, or if that’d be too weird. But I think maybe you’d like to know you kind of saved Scott’s life, like, a year later.”

Allison laugh-sobs again. “And how’d I manage that?” 

“So there was this creature. In Quebec, and then France. In, like, the 1700s—“

“I thought you said this happened in your future.”

“I’m getting there! It has to do with, like, Argent family history.”

“Okay,” Allison nods.

“…which means it should probably be your dad telling this part, not me.”

She chuckles. “It’s fine, Liam, I’ll ask him to tell it again later.”

“Okay,” Liam says. “So there was this werewolf, who was more like the craziest, most terrible versions of werewolves they have in the stories. It was massive , and insanely hard to kill, and it lived to kill people. They called it the Bête de Gevaudan. And he was also your ancestor’s brother. Her name was Marie-Jeanne.”

“I do remember this story,” Allison says in realization.

“Right. So, then, you know that Marie-Jeanne chased down her brother until she killed him.”

“Right.”

“…Um, so in the future I’m from, these crazy supernatural scientist guys called the Dread Doctors resurrected the Beast and set it loose on Beacon Hills.”

“…You’re kidding,” Allison says flatly. 

“Um, unfortunately, no. It was… really scary.”

“I… can’t imagine.”

Liam laughs, then groans in pain. No more laughing. Laughing hurts. “Damn, I miss werewolf healing,” he complains. 

“Welcome to what most of us have to deal with, Liam,” Allison teases. 

“I know, I know,” Liam grumbles. “So, we had finally cornered the Beast. It was fighting Scott, and it grabbed him right here,” Liam motions towards the back of his neck, “with its claws. And you know what that does, with one of our kind.”

“Memory sharing,” Allison murmurs.

“I don’t think it meant to do it,” Liam says. “But it looked through Scott’s memories, and you were there. And apparently, you look just like Marie-Jeanne. It shocked the Beast enough that it froze up long enough for us to defeat it.” Liam smiles. “So yeah, you totally saved Scott’s life.”

Allison starts laugh-sobbing again. Liam has a strange urge to give her a hug. 

“You meant so much to Scott. To everyone,” Liam murmurs. “I thought maybe Scott could be less sad if you lived. But the more I learned about you, the more I just wanted you to live because, the people who do the things you do don’t ever deserve to die. It was something wrong with the world, and I wanted to fix it.”

Liam cuts himself off from his ramble when he realizes that Allison is full-on sobbing, now. And Liam’s the one who caused it. Panic darts through him, and he looks around frantically. What are you supposed to do when you make your Alpha’s ex-girlfriend so moved she starts to cry? Are you supposed to… apologize? Pat her back and say “there, there”? Start crying, too?

Liam’s halfway to that third option when Allison gets up. “You’re so sweet, Liam,” she chokes out. And then she hugs him, even as her body still shudders with sobs.

It’s a little awkward. But it’s also very nice. Liam wraps a tentative arm around her with his non-injured side as his own eyes start to water. 

Scott’s mom finds them like that about a minute later. “Allison,” she calls gently. “Unfortunately, I’ve got to kick you out before they catch me.”

Allison pulls back and begins sniffling and rubbing at her eyes with her sleeves. “Thank you, Mrs. McCall,” she manages. 

“Anytime, sweetie. Now shoo.” 

Allison gives him one last smile as she sneaks quietly out of the room.

Mrs. McCall starts fiddling with Liam’s IV bag. Liam realizes that, from her point of view, she’s meeting him for the first time, too.

“Um, hi,” Liam says.

“Hello, Liam,” Mrs. McCall replies. “Heard a lot about you.”

Liam feels a twist of nerves at that. “Uh, good things?”

Mrs. McCall gives him a flat look. “Of course they’re good things.” She finishes with the IV bag, and sits down on the edge of his bed. “You’re awfully popular. Everyone’s going to want to see you, at one point or another. I want you to know you’ve got the right to say no.” 

“Okay,” says Liam. “But really, I’m fine. I’m going to want to see everyone.”

Mrs. McCall tsks. “You don’t look fine to me,” she says, nodding significantly at his shoulder. 

Liam gives her a wry grin. “In my day, I got stabbed all the time.”

She shakes her head. “If that’s how you’re going to play it.” She adjusts his blankets. “I’ve heard you’ve done a lot for my son,” she says in a lower tone of voice. “And for Allison. I won’t forget that.” 

Liam can only nod, overcome once more. 

—-

Liam’s parents are the first visitors to his room once official visiting hours are actually open. Then, later, they let in Mason again. Mason tells Liam his parents are still convinced Brett was some sort of bad influence that had led to Liam making off with their car and getting himself involved in an armed carjacking-gone-wrong. And that Mason’s own parents appear to be convinced of the same. In the meantime, to keep Brett up to date, Mason’s had to meet with him outside in the woods. “Brett acts like he doesn’t care,” Mason says, “but he totally does. He was so relieved when they said you were going to be okay.”

Liam then asks Mason if he could help get Liam's parents to allow Scott a visit. “Please?”

Mason shakes his head. “Dude, you haven’t seen what they’ve been like with anyone who isn’t you. They’ve got your room on lockdown . They almost didn’t want to let me in, and they’ve known me since we were in kindergarten! I think you’re going to have to rely on Mrs. McCall to sneak him in.”

“Sure,” Liam shrugs. “But my parents should meet Scott.”

Mason sighs and says he’ll try.

And the next time Liam wakes up, the first visitor the nurses admit is Scott.

Liam beams. He knew it. Parents can’t resist Scott.

“Hey,” Scott smiles. 

“My parents actually let you in?”

Scott comes forward and settles into the stool by Liam’s bedside. “Uh, yeah,” he says. “I, uh, told them I was mentoring you in lacrosse. Your stepdad seemed pretty excited when I mentioned that.”

Liam can picture that. He grins. “Yeah, he’s the one who taught me how to play. We both love the sport.”

A funny, perhaps bittersweet, look crosses Scott’s face. “I see.” There’s silence for a beat, and Liam is left wondering, not for the first time, what has Scott so maudlin. But before Liam can probe further, Scott leans closer and places a hand on Liam’s good arm. “Liam, I wanted to thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” Liam says quickly, some part of him hoping to head off the emotional direction this conversation is heading. All the attention and the repeated thank yous he’s been getting have started to make him feel embarrassed.

“No, Liam,” Scott pushes on, a note of authority entering his voice. “I mean it. It’s…” He lowers his head. “It’s Allison. And she would have died without you. Lydia—Lydia said she was about to scream for her.”

There’s a sour pang in Liam’s stomach at hearing confirmation of just how close Allison had come to dying anyway, despite his intervention. “I just wanted to make sure she survived,” Liam says meekly.

“She did,” Scott smiles softly. “Thanks to you.”

Liam searches Scott’s expression. Liam knows, intellectually, that Scott never got over Allison, though his Scott had never confirmed that himself. Liam hasn’t yet seen Scott interact with her, but Liam’s been hoping subconsciously that he could see Scott think of her without that deep pain he always wore like a cloak whenever she was mentioned. But Scott’s smile, right now, still isn’t free from pain. 

From what Liam remembers, Scott and Allison were still broken up when Allison died. Maybe it’s that? Liam tries not to be disappointed.

He can’t resist probing at least a little. “Part of why I did it was for you,” he admits. 

Scott frowns. “Me?”

“Scott…” Liam bites his lip. “I never knew her but I still could tell how you cared about her.”

Slowly, Scott withdraws his hand from Liam’s arm. His expression turns more distant, unreadable.

Liam may regret pushing the issue.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring your friends along,” Scott says presently, raising an eyebrow. 

A full subject change. Liam swallows down the awkwardness and goes with it. “Oh, uh, Mason and Brett?”

“I thought the less people we were to read into the situation, the better.”

“They weren’t pieces on the Nogitune’s game board, either,” Liam defends. “And I needed the help.”

Scott chuckles lowly. “I suppose you did, once you jumped in front of a blade ,” he says pointedly.

Liam cringes. “Yeah, uh… guess I did.”

Scott’s eyes soften. “Liam, that was really dangerous. I was really scared for you. You aren’t indestructible, you know.”

“You mean, because I’m human now.”

“No, I mean because…” Scott clasps his hands together and rests them on his knees. “Liam, I know I still don’t know you the way you, uh, clearly know me, but I still really don’t want to lose you.” Scott leans forward, gaze painfully earnest. “I was wrong about you, when we first met. You’re kind, and you care, and you’re… pretty dang ballsy. I think I understand now, why you wanted the Bite.”

Liam finds himself unable to meet Scott’s eyes any longer. “Um, about that. I don’t actually think you should bite me in this body anymore. If I have a shot at getting back to the future, I, uh, don’t want to leave my real fourteen-year-old self having made that choice for him.”

Scott smiles, nodding. “And, see, that’s why I trust you. Liam, you have the right goals at heart.”

Liam fiddles with his hands. He nearly blushes, but doesn’t. Liam can’t quite allow himself to bask in the praise of a Scott who doesn’t know about what Liam did in the library. 

“But, Liam…” Scott’s voice quiets, and he sounds less sure. “You were also right, that… that the Bite is worth it to save a life.” Scott shifts his weight slightly. “Everything with Stiles, and the MRI, and then you… I realized, when you were out, that if you weren’t going to survive, I would have done it. I would have bit you.”

Liam looks up at this. “Really?”

Scott’s answering smile looks tight, but his eyes are still full of warmth. “Yeah, Liam,” he says. “I don’t want you to die.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Liam says.

Scott coughs out a half-laugh. “I’d hope so.”

“How else would I be able to get back to my pack?” Sitting here, confined to a stupid hospital bed, Liam’s had far too much time to think about his friends and how much he misses them. His version of Scott, Mason, Brett, Stiles, Lydia, and Kira. Derek, Malia, Corey, Alec, Hayden, heck, even Nolan and (ugh) Theo. He wishes he could talk to one of them, any of them. Tell them about how he did it, how Allison was alive now. Complain about his stab wound. Ask them how in the world they think he can get back. 

Scott straightens. “I’m going to talk to Deaton about that. As soon as you’re out of here, we’ll bring you to him. If anyone can get you back to your time, it’s him. But for what it’s worth…” Scott reaches forward and puts a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “You have a place in my pack, whether you’re fourteen or eighteen, human or werewolf.”

Liam can feel his eyes misting again, and he blames the residual painkillers. “Thanks.”

Scott spends the rest of the time asking Liam for details about his time travel experience, to relay to Deaton, before a nurse finally comes to shoo him out. Liam feels more settled and hopeful than he’s felt ever since he landed here, back in time. Scott’s going to take care of it. Liam’s going to go back now. There isn’t a doubt in his mind.

Smiling to himself, Liam lets himself drift back off to sleep, with visions of his friends filling his head. 

Chapter Text

Over the next couple days, Liam swiftly learns that Mrs. McCall wasn’t kidding. Liam’s pretty dang popular. Everyone visits, either sanctioned or unsanctioned. Liam’s parents are there most frequently, of course. Mason, Scott, and Allison visit again, but also Brett, Kira, Stiles, Lydia, Isaac, Argent, and even Derek. Paul, Hogan, and Jaime from lacrosse show up. The Sheriff swings by, too, to get a statement, and grumbles about just how much of the story he’s going to have to edit out, alongside even more grumbles about “Time travel? Really?” 

Mason wasn’t lying about how much Brett cared that Liam didn’t die, which is something. Brett’s snuck-in visits don’t last very long, however, and usually don’t consist of very much talking. Liam will take it, regardless.

Brett’s drop-ins still aren’t the most surprising visit Liam gets, though. No, that prize would go to the strange assortment that slips in after hours on the third day. First through the door is Stiles, which already has Liam on alert given how little Stiles seems to trust Liam so far—but then he is followed by Argent, and then Derek Hale. Liam glances between the three. They all have a serious expression on their faces. Baffled as to what this could be about, Liam looks to Stiles first, who somehow seems the least intimidating option, by a thin margin. “Um… hi?”

“How are you doing, Liam?” Stiles begins, and Liam marvels at the way he makes the normally polite question sound like an accusation. 

“I’m… okay,” Liam says slowly. He turns to Argent, deciding he’d better try his luck there.

“That’s good to hear,” Argent says neutrally. 

“We had some… questions for you, Liam,” Derek puts in. His arms are folded, and his face is cast in shadow. Liam swears, half the time, the guy isn’t even being intimidating on purpose, but it still never fails to make Liam feel very nervous and small. 

“About the future,” Stiles says. “Since, you know, you said you’re from the future, and those details might be kind of important. Just a thought.”

“Um, yeah,” Liam nods, at first just in automatic agreement, and then consideringly. That’s right—Liam has a lot more information than just how to save Allison’s life. There are a lot more enemies coming. He was already planning on trying to help, about those, and he supposes now the imminent threat of the Nogitsune is neutralized, he might as well start in on everything else. “What do you want to know?” 

Stiles opens his mouth, but Derek places an arm over his chest, keeping him back. Surprised, Stiles looks ready to start an argument, but before he can, Argent has already stepped forward. He fishes something out of his pocket and shows it to Liam. “Do you recognize this?”

Liam leans forward gently to get a closer look. It’s small and shiny, barely half the length of Argent’s pinkie finger. Silver in color, cylindrical in shape. And engraved on the side—

Liam’s blood freezes. “Oh. Oh God. I didn’t know she was already in town.”

Argent’s grip on the fleur-de-lis-engraved bullet casing tightens. “She?”

Liam cringes. Oh, this is going to be a massive case of please-don’t-shoot-the-messenger, he can already tell. “Kate.”

“Wait, what?”  Stiles exclaims. 

Liam glances nervously between the three of them. Argent and Derek don’t look nearly as surprised as Liam would have expected, just beleaguered and dismayed. Stiles seems to pick up on this, too, because he looks at them with an expression of pure betrayal, opens his mouth wide, and then closes it. “Kate. Kate?  Is this the Kate I think it is, because if so I swear to God—”

“Argent,” Liam confirms quickly. “I’m… sorry.”

“Holy fucking—” Stiles runs a hand down his face, and then whirls on the other two visitors. “ This is what the two of you were whispering about? Huh? You ever think of, maybe, sharing with the class one of these days?”

“I wanted to be certain,” Argent says gravely, staring intently at the bullet casing as he rolls it between his fingers. 

Derek comes forward, gaze as steady and guarded as Liam has ever seen it. “How did she survive?”

“Scott said some can be turned by a deep scratch,” Liam says. “It was, uh, that, apparently. But she’s not a werewolf, she’s actually a werejaguar. Her control, um… totally sucks.”

Werejaguar? Stiles mouths in sardonic disbelief.

“What about the body we buried?” Argent asks as he re-pockets the bullet casing, his gaze flinty sharp.

Liam gulps, racking his brain. He hopes he gets this part right—a lot of his knowledge is from clarification questions he asked after the fact. “You buried an empty casket, I think? Um… I just remember that the Calaveras thought they saw signs of the body healing, so they took it, and sure enough… Then they shut her up with nothing but a gun so she could, uh, do what you hunters are apparently supposed to do if you get Turned—” Liam scowls, as to make his feelings on the matter clear— “but she managed to escape somehow.”

“And where has she been, since?” Argent presses. “Why come back now?”

Liam cringes. “She hid in this creepy Mexican temple where she learned how to make and control Berserkers. Then she left when she realized she needed help learning control. I think she thought that you Hales had something that could help? She… slashed an awful lot of people to death because she totally lost it, in the time that she was in Beacon Hills. But that’s nowhere near the worst part.”

Stiles rolls his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Of course it isn’t.”

Liam gives him a significant look. “She brought her Berserkers with her. To Beacon Hills.”

Argent’s face, if it was at all possible, gets even stonier at this. Liam’s just glad someone else takes those things seriously.

Stiles looks between them. “I take it that’s bad. So what are they?”

Argent starts on an explanation, but Derek interrupts him, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Where is she right now?”

“Uh…” Liam attempts to go over the timeline again in his head. “Um, still in… Mexico?”

“But she was here.”

“I guess so. But…” Suddenly Liam remembers. “Oh, shit, that’s right, she’s here for you. She kidnapped you last time and did something weird to you in that Mexican temple of hers—”

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Scott bursts into the room. He surveys the three visitors with narrowed eyes. “I thought I told you. No questions until he’s out of the hospital.” His gaze turns to Liam, and his expression softens. “Sorry, Liam,” he says ruefully.

“Some of this stuff is time-sensitive!” Stiles retorts, offended. For his part, Derek glances at Scott, and then back to Liam. He seemingly decides to continue anyway. “What did she do to me?” he presses, gentle but firm. 

“Derek,” Scott says, tone somewhere between pleading and warning. Derek looks back at Scott, and the two have some sort of silent argument. Liam feels wrongfooted at the sight, and, unsure who to oblige, lapses into an uneasy silence.

Stiles starts towards Liam’s bed, clearly planning on taking the opportunity of the lull in conversation to ask some questions of his own, but Scott catches his wrist before he can get far. “Stiles.”

Stiles opens his mouth, gesturing in frustration. “Oh, come on, are you seri—” He looks to Derek and Argent, as if for help. When none of them say anything, he dramatically drops his hands to his sides. “He says he’s fine! A couple questions aren’t going to hurt him, right Liam?”

“Uh…” Liam tries not to cringe away from the pointed look Stiles sends him.

“He needs to rest, ” Scott says.

This, Liam isn’t entirely happy to hear, either, uncomfortable with the implication that Liam is some sort of fragile creature. “Hey, actually—”

“He’s right,” Argent decides, and he makes for the door, the authoritative figure he cuts itself an order to follow. 

Derek hesitates, glancing back at Liam with an expression that looks equal parts frustrated, considering, and… vulnerable, actually. Derek’s just had some difficult news to hear, Liam suddenly realizes. Somewhere down the line, Scott had mentioned Derek had an unpleasant history with Kate, hadn’t he. And Liam had just revealed Kate would be gunning right for him. “Just be careful,” Liam calls to him. “You might want to have backup with you. I’ll tell you the rest later.” 

Derek gives Liam a grateful nod, and then he, too, departs. Leaving Stiles, still gesturing at Liam in protest, and an increasingly tired-pack-Mom-looking Scott.

Stiles opens his mouth. Gestures. Closes it again. Meet’s Scott’s eye contact for one beat. Two. Three. 

“God, fine,” Stiles huffs, making for the door. “But I’m going to get some answers out of you later,” he calls, pointing an accusatory finger at Liam. Scott shoves Stiles the rest of the way out the door with an apologetic smile, and then the door closes, and Liam is alone again. The silence is fairly deafening.

Liam lets his head crash back down onto his pillow, letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

***

The thing is, the longer Liam ponders it, the more he feels Stiles has a point—the pack needs to know what Liam knows about the future, in order to save more people—and some of this knowledge is fairly time-sensitive. Not to mention, Liam has no idea when or if he’ll get sent back to his time. Before the end of the night, Liam decides: he’s going to write down everything he knows about the pack’s future enemies, everything important, and leave his notes for Scott and Stiles to consult, so they can hopefully stop the villains much faster once Liam’s gone. 

Liam asks Mrs. McCall for a notebook and a pen, and he gets cracking. 

The Benefactor part is simplest. Liam just has to tell them to find that room in Lydia’s lake house, grab the key in the fake wine, and use it to shut down the old computer. But in case something goes wrong, and the dead pool still happens, Liam backtracks and writes all the details out anyway, about Meredith and the idea she got from Peter, about the Mute, the Orphans, the Chemist. Some of the assassination methods make him realize the pack should know about the werewolf weaknesses that were exposed—the virus, the sound at the bonfire. All things considered, Liam remembers it all fairly clearly, and he thinks he gets enough of the details right for the pack to figure out the rest should it ever come to it. 

The part about Kate and what she did to Derek, and the showdown with Peter in that Mexican temple, is a little more difficult to put to the page. Liam at least stresses the importance of not trusting Peter, telling Scott in no uncertain terms that he needs to expect Peter to try to kill him sooner or later. Liam realizes after this bit that he really needs to keep these notes a secret. He’ll have to talk to Stiles and Lydia. He’s sure they’ll have a good way.

In the meantime, Liam slowly and carefully details what he knows about making Berserkers… and how to unmake them. 

And then Liam reaches his sophomore year, and it gets even worse.

Liam writes the name “Theo” onto the page, and stares at it for a good five minutes. 

Theo has… actually been an extremely helpful ally of late. But Liam can’t forget about what it was like when he first showed up. And what that led to…

An image of Scott, bloodied beneath Liam’s own claws, stumbling across the library roof, flashes before Liam’s mind’s eye, and Liam closes the notebook with a slam . 

How is he supposed to convince Scott that Theo needs to be their ally when he sees what Theo’s done? 

… How’s Liam supposed to be able to write down what happened in the library and just leave it, for a Scott who’s just begun to trust him, to read?

Liam’s still staring at the closed notebook when Scott comes in for another visit, and he quickly stashes the notebook beneath his bed. Liam can’t get himself to touch it for the rest of the week, no matter how bored he is.

***

Liam is let out of the hospital the day before Thanksgiving, his arm in a sling, but with assurance given from his stepdad that he’ll make a full recovery. Dr. Geyer’s face is beaming as he breaks the news with a long hug, but there’s still a strain in his expression that tells Liam the conversation with his parents he’s managed to put off thus far is going to happen as soon as he gets home.

Liam’s right. And it’s one of the most awkward conversations of his life. 

More than once, Liam contemplates just telling them, right then and there, about the supernatural, but he’s hindered by the fact that a), Liam doesn’t have the claws to prove it right now, and b), his parents would probably be even better at preventing fourteen-year-old Liam from getting into dangerous Beacon Hills-protecting activities if they knew the truth. So, unfortunately, Liam has to deal with a heavy amount of impugning his own character to spare Brett his parents’ undue suspicion (which still ends up being an unsuccessful endeavor), and a nice, fat grounding for the span of a month.

Well, crap.

im so mega grounded, hElp , is the text Liam sends Mason as soon as he manages to slink off to his room. 

i TOLD u, is the reply.

no srsly theres a pack mtg tonight about getting me back how am i supposed to go if im under friggin surveillance??

you could just try not stealing your moms car

“Unbelievable,” Liam grumbles, tossing his phone on his bed and starting to pace. If he had superhuman agility and two working arms, he could jump or climb out of his window, no problem. This stab wound that Liam has typically considered a no-big-deal stab wound is… starting to become a bigger deal than Liam anticipated. 

He picks his phone back up a moment later and texts Scott instead. 

sooo i got grounded. idk how im getting to the animal clinic help?

Scott’s reply gets in about fifteen minutes later. oh okay. lets try this after thanksgiving :)  

wait no, Liam tries. 

have a great holiday with your family :) 

“Ugh!” Liam cries. 

“Liam, sweetie, is everything okay in there?” his mom calls from another room.

“I’m fine!” Liam yells back.

He flops backwards onto his bed. 

After a few more minutes, Liam walks over to his window and awkwardly jiggers it open with his free hand. He leans his head out of the window. The blackness of the night clouds his vision, and he can barely make out the amorphous shadows of the bushes two stories below. Liam feels the side of the window and tests its handholds with his good arm. 

After another minute, Liam trudges back to his bed in defeat. 

Have a good Thanksgiving, Scott said, in essence.

Liam supposes he has no choice.

***

Thanksgiving ends up fine, if awkward. This is probably due to the fact that the Geyers and him spend it with his mom’s side of the family, and not his bio dad’s, thank God. The stab wound is… rather difficult to have to explain to his aunts, uncles, and grandparents, but it wins him a few points with his nine- and eleven-year-old cousins Steven and Connor. Liam spends about twenty minutes bullshitting his way through a story about how, exactly, the crazy guy who carjacked him stabbed a knife through his shoulder, to awed looks and excited reenactments. His mom sends increasingly chagrined looks his way all the while, but can do nothing to stop it, trapped as she is in conversation with Great-Uncle Jerry, who never stops talking. Karina, his seven-year-old cousin, just folds her arms and glares at him as if she can tell exactly how much Liam is talking out of his ass right now. Liam tries to avoid looking her in the eye. 

After the turkey comes out, Liam is hit with a wave of nostalgia so strong for the McCall Pack Thanksgiving they had last year that he has to excuse himself to the bathroom for a moment. Liam shoots Mason a flurry of texts to distract himself, but there’s no response. Liam doesn’t know what he expected—Mason’s busy with his own family. 

Not for the first time, Liam feels like a fraud. He’s not truly living his own life, right now—he’s living his younger self’s life for him. All the more reason why Liam’s got to get back. 

… But, it’s also only fair to Younger Liam to make a good effort. 

Liam goes back to the table. As the meal progresses, he starts to realize that he’s actually enjoying the moment to check out from the constant supernatural drama, be a normal kid for a second, reconnect with his family. This is the kind of thing he’s sort of lost over the years.

Maybe Liam needs to start being more present for family get-togethers once he returns to his time. 

And, now that he’s changed things so Allison lives, now he’s leaving instructions on how to defeat future enemies faster… maybe the future Liam will come back to will have far more time for family get-togethers.

It’s a weird thought, one Liam can’t get himself to dwell on for long. He almost doesn’t dare hope. 

He almost… doesn’t want the drama and danger to change. Because who is Liam anymore, really, without fighting for Scott’s cause?

Maybe Liam’s had a glimpse, tonight. 

Maybe it’s not so bad. Maybe Liam can be both, be a werewolf protector and a human kid.

Liam pulls out the notebook that night, and hesitantly begins detailing out everything he knows about the Dread Doctors.

He still doesn’t touch on the Theo part yet.

***

It’s a couple days after Thanksgiving when Scott finally, finally announces he’s coming over to help break Liam out for a pack meeting. Having had far, far too much practice sneaking out over the past few years to be healthy, Liam instructs Scott to come get him through his window at the exact moment when his parents start their weekly movie-date-night. The actual breaking out part turns out to be quite the struggle, even with Scott’s help—climbing with only one arm is a bitch —so eventually, Liam just gives up and tells Scott to catch him while he jumps. Scott looks a bit surprised and trepidatious at the suggestion, but Liam quickly reminds Scott he has super strength. Scott won’t drop Liam.

Liam is proved absolutely right.

When they pull up on Scott’s motorcycle at the animal clinic, the nostalgia hits Liam hard again. Stiles’s baby blue Jeep is parked at the lot, along with Derek’s Camaro. Lydia’s far more sensible passenger car is also there, next to a black SUV that’s probably one of Argent’s. 

When Liam follows Scott inside, everyone’s eyes pretty much immediately land on him. Liam tries not to feel intimidated. He knows these people. He knows Scott and Stiles, and Lydia and Kira and Deaton. As tough as Derek and Argent might look, he knows them too. And he’s had the chance to meet Allison and Isaac. The twins, though, lurking in the corner… okay, maybe Liam has a right to feel a little intimidated because he doesn’t know them. Or, Liam should clarify, Ethan he’s met briefly, but Aiden… not so much. For obvious reasons. He can’t tell which is which, either. One of them is standing in the shadows, his arms folded across his chest, while the other leans lazily next to him against a cabinet. 

“...Hi,” Liam says to break the silence, when it’s clear no one else seems to be in a chatty mood. He lifts a hand in a tentative wave.

Scott blinks, as though he’d completely forgotten to do introductions. “Right, everyone, this is Liam. Liam, everyone.”

Stiles is still too cagey around Liam, unfortunately, to say much more than a small “Hi,” but Lydia, Kira, and Allison’s greetings are warmer. Deaton gives him a reassuring smile. Isaac, Derek, and Argent nod. The twins remain impassive. 

Liam is reminded fairly uncannily of the awkward scene at Lydia’s lake house when he first met Scott’s pack. 

“Now that we’ve defeated the Nogitsune with his help, Liam would like to be able to get back to his own time. We’re here to help him do that,” Scott starts. Then he turns back to Liam and gives him a warm smile. “After we get the chance to thank him properly. Liam, two of us wouldn’t be here right now without you. We’re in your debt.”

Liam feels his cheeks heat, and he averts his gaze slightly while there’s a smattering of quiet “thank you”s. 

From the corner of his eyes, Liam notices one of the twins start forward as if to say something, while the other stops him, shaking his head. 

There’s another awkward silence. “Right,” Scott says, after a beat. “Um, Dr. Deaton?”

Deaton comes closer to Liam, his gaze attentive, but kind. “Scott mentioned you’d gotten into a scuffle with an unfamiliar creature right before you found yourself in your past.”

Liam nods.

“Can you tell us about it? Any detail might be helpful,” Deaton says.

Liam launches into the explanation he’d given Mason that first day, and then tries to describe what Mason had said he’d seen, with the light and the brief image of Liam, at his true age. Deaton just watches him all the while, his face never changing; it would be unnerving if Liam wasn’t already familiar with the man and his wise, mysterious aura. When Liam finishes, Deaton straightens slowly.

“Some seelie are known to spend their time passing judgement on mankind,” Deaton starts. “Like a test. Normally, I’d say you already failed, but it doesn’t appear that this test is quite over yet.”

Liam’s stomach gives a lurch. “Wait, failed? Why?”

“Most fae, no matter what their exact kind, take offense easily to any sort of disrespect,” Deaton elaborates. “In your case, I would say your… disrespect was clear.”

Stiles snorts from where he’s leaning against one of Deaton’s filing cabinets, and Lydia elbows him calmly. Stiles promptly stumbles over sideways, expression contorted in exaggerated pain. 

Deaton doesn’t glance in Stiles’s direction once as he continues. “The fact that you have been tested, rather than punished outright, is encouraging. It suggests a far more forgiving variety of fae. That, and, you do not seem to have committed the cardinal sin, in most fae’s eyes.”

“What’s that?” Liam asks trepidatiously.

“Lying.”

“Ah.” Liam nods, relieved. His entire… attack on the seelie was quite genuine, if nothing else.

“Ultimately, Liam, you have been given another chance,” Deaton continues. “You should be very, very careful not to waste it.”

“How do I do that, then?” Liam asks.

“You pass the test,” Deaton says. “A seelie’s test may look like a great many things. Yours appears to have been a sort of… immersive experience. The seelie may have set up a lesson by sending you here, or maybe is evaluating you for some kind of virtue, of the heart. You won’t know until the test is finished.”

“But when would that be?”

“That is entirely up to the seelie.”

Liam grits his teeth. So, what, he’s just stuck here? “Are you suggesting I have to just… wait it out?”

“Actually, no,” Deaton says. He turns to one of his drawers and begins fishing things out—glass jars, filled with herbs of various sorts. Once he has grabbed all he seems to need, he lines them up neatly on his operating table. Next to Liam, Scott leans forward, curious. “If you like, you can hasten the process by both summoning the seelie—” he gestures towards the herbs— “and offering it a gift. You would be killing two birds with one stone, so to speak—requesting an audience, while attempting to atone for the disrespect.” Deaton takes a step closer to Liam. “I should warn you, however, that once you were to perform the ritual, you would be at the mercy of the seelie’s judgement, more than ever. It’s a risk. You would be essentially betting on the belief that you’ve passed the test.”

Liam stares at the herbs and bites his tongue, a sense of foreboding settling over him. Is Liam willing to bet? He saved Allison, yes, but suddenly, that success seems to shrink as Liam’s estimations of his many moral failings creep into its place. When has anyone—anyone from Liam’s time, who knows what he’s done—ever judged Liam, and not found him wanting?

… Honestly, the only example that comes to Liam’s mind at this moment is Theo. Well, isn’t that just sad.

“You don’t have to decide now,” Scott says gently.

At this, Liam jerks to look at Scott, some sort of stubborn indignation jolting him right out of his stewing thoughts. “No, I’m doing it.”

“Great,” Stiles says, rising from his position against the filing cabinets. “Then we can maybe get this show on the road, summon a potentially dangerous creature, get him—” he gestures vaguely at Liam’s entire person— “gone, and have enough time to grab some Chinese food on the way back.”

From the corner of Liam’s eye, the twins look very amenable to this suggestion. Not that Liam’s been watching them warily the whole time, or anything. 

Liam shakes his head vigorously. “I can’t do it yet, though. I need to be sure I’ve—” He glances nervously at the twins, suddenly realizing he isn’t sure he should trust them enough to reveal the existence of his notes. “Um, I have some… unfinished business.”

Stiles half-throws up his hands. “What have you been doing for the past, like, week then? Haven’t you had enough time yet?”

Okay, Liam has been trying not to take Stiles’s distrust personally, because he knows Stiles and knows exactly why Stiles is like that (namely, so that disasters like Theo don’t happen), but it’s starting to get hard to ignore. “What, do you have a problem with me here, or something?” he snaps. 

In an absolute miracle, Stiles actually falters at this. “Well, no, not exactly,” he concedes, averting his eyes. 

“I do,” one of the twins says, starting forward, and everyone whirls to face him. The other twin makes an aborted gesture at his back, as if to try to pull him back, but seems to realize it’s too late for that. “ Someone has to be the one to say that he’s—” the twin gestures accusingly at Liam— “suspicious. You can’t seriously believe this.”

“He saved your life, dude,” Isaac pipes up. “You could try a little gratitude.”

“We have nothing to prove that, but his—” the twin, who must be Aiden, gestures again— “word. And forgive me if I don’t find that a very reliable source.”

Instead of a retort, Aiden’s declaration is met with silence. Liam’s heart starts to sink, until he notices that everyone’s eyes are starting to drift in one direction. “What?” Aiden asks combatively.

Liam follows the stares. Lydia. They’re all looking at Lydia.

Seeming to shrug into herself, Lydia glances once, twice, up at Aiden, and then down at the floor. 

Aiden seems to finally realize what everyone else has, and he approaches her with an amount of caution Liam hasn’t seen out of the guy yet. “What is it?” he asks.

Another brief glance, and Lydia sighs. “The day after Oak Creek, when I called you… it wasn’t a pocket dial. I called because I felt something.”

They wait a beat for her to elaborate, but she doesn’t. “Lydia?” Aiden prompts gently—or, at least, what Liam surmises passes as gentle for him.

“It was like this… chime, or thrum. I felt it through my entire body, like I was standing on the gong of a grandfather clock that had just been struck. And I saw a glimpse of… it was you, and there was blood coming out of your mouth, and… I knew you were supposed to die. But when I called you,” Lydia shrugs. “You were fine.” She finally looks up to meet Aiden’s eyes. “I think that was when you were supposed to die, in Liam’s timeline.”

Aiden finally seems a little stricken at this. He and Lydia continue to share a significant look. Liam feels a little strange, watching it happen. He’s used to his Lydia only looking that intensely at Stiles. Almost morbidly, Liam’s gaze searches out Stiles, and sure enough, there’s a carefully blank expression on his face. It looks practiced to Liam’s eye. Liam winces and looks back at Lydia and Aiden. A strange guilt rises within him. What if he’s inadvertently messed up Stiles and Lydia’s chance with each other? But, then again… Liam studies Lydia more closely. She isn’t, actually, looking at Aiden the way she looked at Stiles. There’s something missing. Maybe there’s hope yet. Or, well, it’s not like it's Liam's business who any of the pack members date, really, but Liam feels like Stiles and Lydia felt… right together.

Scott steps forward, cutting the tension. “We’ll wait for Liam to tell us he’s ready. Until then, keep an eye out for anything strange, anything that could be something else from the Nemeton, or that could be a sign of Liam’s seelie.”

There is a smattering of nods, and then the pack, sensing their dismissal, start to chat amongst themselves and migrate towards the exit. Scott catches Liam’s eye and gestures at the door, nonverbally asking if Liam is ready to go home, but Liam shakes his head. “I have to ask Stiles and Lydia something.” Scott nods, leaving Liam with the awkward task of approaching the two. Or, as it looks now, maybe just one of them. Lydia’s still talking to Aiden, while Stiles is in the middle of turning to leave. 

Liam has to jump awkwardly in front of Stiles to catch him before he goes. “Um, I kind of have a question.”

Stiles gives him a look that’s less hostile than Liam was expecting, a more vulnerable depth to his eyes. “Okay, shoot,” he says. 

“Um… so after our,  uh, conversation the other day…”

“Oh, you mean, the one in which you informed Argent his psychotic sister was still alive, and a were jaguar . Toting unstoppable bodyguards.”

“Yeah, uh, that one,” Liam huffs. “Look, you got me realizing that I have a lot of information that could help, information about—” Liam trails off, glancing nervously at Aiden as he realizes that Aiden’s sharp hearing could still pick up on whatever he says.

Stiles, because he’s one of the smartest people Liam knows, picks up on the reason behind Liam’s hesitance near immediately and mimes typing on a cellphone. Liam nods gratefully and pulls out his phone hastily, opening a new text message and inputting Stiles’s number rapid-fire by heart at the top, just in case Liam accidentally sends anything he writes. If Stiles is unnerved by Liam’s display of personal knowledge about him, he doesn’t show it. 

I’ve been writing down what I know about the future, about the pack’s enemies, and how to defeat them. It could save lives,  Liam writes, fingers flying across the keyboard.

Stiles nods from where he’s peering over Liam’s shoulder, and Liam takes that as his cue to continue. It’s all too dangerous to be left unprotected. I wanted to ask you and Lydia if you could translate my notes into some kind of code only you two know once I’m gone. Then burn the originals.

Stiles nods again, then tilts his head, as if realizing something. He gestures at the phone, and Liam hands it off to him. He waits as Stiles’s own thumbs fly.

Less than a second later, Stiles presents the phone to Liam. You realize Lydia and I will see everything you write, right? You sure you don’t want to just leave it to Scott?

Liam shakes his head and grabs the phone back from Stiles. The notes are for you in the first place, he writes. You and Scott, together. And Lydia. “I trust you,” Liam murmurs out loud. “Remember, you may not know me, but I know you.”

A pause, and then, “Okay,” Stiles says. “Okay.” He frowns after a beat, and motions for the phone again. Liam obliges.

Is there a reason you don’t trust him? Stiles nods to indicate Aiden.  

No, I just don’t know him. I don’t know either of them, really. Ethan left after he died.

Stiles gives another nod, considering and half-distracted. Liam eyes him. Stiles is still gazing at Lydia and Aiden. Lydia smirks at something Aiden says and looks up at him under her lashes. 

“There’s something there,” Liam murmurs out loud before he can stop himself.

Stiles starts and looks at him with eyes just a little too wide to be casual. “What?”

“With Lydia, and you. There’s something there. Just… be patient,” Liam replies. 

Stiles’s eyes narrow at Liam, briefly, and Liam tries not to feel like he’s a criminal at the wrong end of an interrogation table. But Stiles seems to be satisfied with what he sees, because his features then soften, and he looks back at Lydia, lips parting slightly. 

Liam smiles.

***

Back in his room after a miracle success of an attempt at sneaking back in (which Scott assisted heavily), Liam sits on his bed, his time-travel notebook open in front of him, bouncing a pencil repeatedly against his leg. 

Scott, Stiles, and Lydia will read everything he’s writing, Liam has just made sure of that. If he writes out everything everything, they'll know Liam nearly… they'll see Liam at his very worst. Liam can never come back from that. But can Liam, in good conscience, truly skip over what happened with Theo—knowing that Theo’s nearly-successful attempt to rip the pack apart from the inside was the closest Scott’s pack has ever come to defeat? 

No. No, of course not. 

Plus, according to Deaton, fae hate liars, and Liam would be a liar of omission of the worst sort if he left this out. And he needs to pass the seelie’s test. Needs to get home.

He knows what he owes Scott and Stiles, and that’s the truth.

Liam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. In, out. Liam spares a moment of sorrow for what he has to do.

He narrows his eyes at the notebook. The name “Theo” bores into him, from where it’s scribbled at the top. 

Liam picks up his pencil, and he leaves it all out on the page.

Chapter Text

By the time Thanksgiving weekend comes to a close, Liam has finished his time travel notes, all the way up to the Anuk-Ite and Monroe, and then some. 

Liam’s never really been a writer, except maybe when it’s history class, but he’s started to… get kind of into it? Maybe, firstly, because he knows how important it is that everyone gets all the information they need. And maybe also because, though Liam’s never thought of it this way before—his own life, and the life of the McCall pack, is a sort of history. A history he may have just willingly destroyed. If there’s going to be nothing left of the life Liam lived in… he wants to at least have left some of it behind. 

(His hand hurts from all the scribbling by now.)

Liam’s also created an additional section of notes intended for specific pack members, ranging from future information to tips to warnings to almost letter-like messages. They… vary widely.

Derek’s section informs Derek he inherited the Hale talent to “evolve” into a full-shift werewolf, though not without asking him to maybe find a way to do that without losing his powers and dying, first. 

Malia’s details everything Liam knows about the Desert Wolf, while ultimately begging her to please, please, for the love of God, at least consider not poking that particular bear. 

Kira’s warns her against the Dread Doctors and advises her to channel her inner fox, instead of letting it channel her. 

Lydia’s informs her of her scream-weaponizing-ass-kicking potential. 

Parrish’s ends up amounting to a veritable Hellhound 101. 

Scott’s, Allison’s, and Mason’s are more on the heartfelt letter side of things. 

Theo’s… almost reads like a dog training manual. If you want to appeal to Theo’s humanity, your best bet is always to bring up his dead sister (yes, the one that he murdered.) He’s actively suppressed his ability to feel guilt over the years, but he still feels guilty about Tara. Though, some of this guilt I observed in my timeline may be due to the traumatic experience he had in the Skinwalkers’ Hell, in which he had to relive a vision of Tara ripping his heart out, over and over and over again. Maybe you should find a way to replicate that. You might get some positive results. 

(Liam should, perhaps, feel at least a little guilty about the way he wrote that one, but instead, he has to suppress chuckles every time he re-reads it, and imagines showing it to Theo. Liam thinks it’s just darkly petty enough to strike Theo’s incredibly warped funny bone.)

And, lastly, perhaps the toughest note Liam wrote… the one to his own younger self. It’s a little messy, and honestly comes across as a little lame, too, given the magnitude of everything that’s happened. But, somehow, Liam is still proud of the second half, if not the first. When he imagines what it would have been like to receive this note at fourteen, he almost starts crying.

Dear Liam (age 14),

Hi, this is your older, time-traveling self. I feel like Mason and Scott and everyone will have already told you about me, but just in case, I promise I exist. Here’s proof: I know about the ring pop you tried to give Jennie Hofferman in 2nd grade, but then Raphael Mazuka accidentally walked into you and smeared it (it was blue raspberry) all over your face, so that you had to spend the rest of recess trying to clean it off. About a quarter of that thing ended up in your left nostril. You never told anyone. You didn’t even tell Mason. 

Sorry. Mason said telling you something you never told anyone else before is the best way time travelers prove things in the movies. I hope that’s enough to prove to you that I’m you, because otherwise, now I feel like a massive dick. 

Anyway, I actually wanted to start off by apologizing to you, not by bringing up super embarrassing memories, because I feel really, seriously bad about accidentally taking over your life for a couple weeks. I promise I didn’t mean it. I hope I left you in an okay place to be able to catch up in school, and I tried not to ruin your social life. But I think it would still probably suck to wake up after two weeks having someone else inhabit your body, so I’m still so sorry. And I’m especially sorry I got you grounded and stabbed. I did it to save someone’s life, but that still probably sucks for you. 

I actually want to leave your life in a better place than I found it, not to make it worse. So I guess I can start by telling you that, really, seriously: it gets better. I know they always say that, but I’m not actually kidding. It gets better. I know your IED seems like it’s taking over your life, and kind of ruining everything, but trust me: there are strategies and stuff out there that legit help. (I wrote down all the good ones in the notebook so you can see them). You have the power to manage it. I actually haven’t punched someone in the face in about four months, and the lady I punched in the face was a werewolf hunter actively trying to kill me. Just keep at it. It helped me best to find something to fight for, so there was a way to channel it. And the cause I fight for is Scott’s.

I don’t know how much they told you about how I got bit, but maybe it should actually come from me—I wrote it all down in my notes, in the Benefactor section (ask Stiles so you can see it.) Long story short, Scott completely, 100%, no arguments, saved my life. I guess I can’t make you believe me, but I’m telling you it’s the truth. That might be kind of hard to accept, because what he did to save my life changed me forever, but I honestly don’t regret it at all. I’ll admit the Bite isn’t something to take lightly. Learning control was hard, especially with my IED, but I did learn. Being a werewolf gave me the power to be able to fight to protect people, and I’d never want to trade that away. Whether or not you want to be one. too, is up to you. But if you do end up being a werewolf, trust what Scott always says: you’re not a monster. You’re a werewolf, like me. I’m going to add that as a human, you’re still not a monster. It’s what you do that counts, not what you are or what disorder you have and stuff.

I don’t think I’ve ever written anything this long before and I’m sort of running out of ideas, so I’m going to end it here. It feels kind of strange because you’re actually me, but I just want to say I care about you and I want things to go well for you. 

Your future self, 

Liam (age 18)

P.S. Scott once told me Clark Kent always goes back to school (or, actually, I think it was work), even if he’s exposed as Superman, because he’s still also Clark Kent. Whatever happens with the supernatural stuff, you have to keep going back to school and being Liam Dunbar. You’re a person first. Don’t make Scott drag you out of bed to get you to school (it’s really embarrassing. He’s not your mom). 

P.P.S. The Giants are going to win the World Series next year. They’re going to beat the Royals. Mason says that’s another way to prove time travel. Don’t tell anyone though I swear to God

Liam thinks he’s actually ready, now. Ready to go back to the future. (Yes, Liam supposes, like the 80s movie. Mason showed it to him yesterday, and Liam has to admit, he enjoyed it.)

It’s time to say his goodbyes.

***

Devenford Prep on a Monday morning feels far too normal for what Liam hopes is his last time attending. No one knows that, after school, Liam is about to perform a summoning ritual to ask a seelie creature to let him (re) time travel. They just talk to each other and lug around their backpacks and shut their lockers like everything is normal, so completely, thoroughly normal. It’s so bizarre, grating at Liam like an itchy mosquito bite, while it’s also, simultaneously, strangely comforting. Life goes on, Liam supposes. Life is always going to go on. 

Brett finds him after their shared class. “Are you really going today?” is the first thing he asks. Brett, with his devil-may-care attitude, somehow makes it sound like Liam’s leaving on a weekend trip to San Bernardino. But Liam knows Brett well enough to know that if Brett’s even asking, he’s serious.

“Relax, I’m still going to be at practice,” Liam replies, rolling his eyes. (Yes, practice—stab wound or no, Liam knows a good athlete can work intelligently around injuries.)

“You’d better,” Brett fires back. “Coach is going to have our asses if we don’t have all our best players ready for the home stretch.” 

Liam stops where he is in the hallway, stunned. “What did you just say?”

“I said, Coach wants all his suckiest players at practice, even gimps, Dunbar. Don’t be late,” Brett grins as he calls over his shoulder. Liam gives him the finger, but inside, he’s still reeling. 

Did Brett just seriously give him, Liam Dunbar, an actual, legitimate compliment?  

The bell rings, and Liam jumps into the air, before scurrying off to his next class. 

Practice time arrives before Liam knows it. This time, Liam just focuses on enjoying it, even one-armed and one-shouldered as he is right now. He inhales the crisp fall air, feels the grip of the grass beneath his cleats, relishes in the sweat and soreness and exertion of a workout well done. He doesn’t even find himself comparing his capabilities to that of his werewolf self that much, this time. He just… mostly finds himself comparing his abilities to what he’s like without a gaping, annoying stab wound. 

Oh well. No practice is perfect. 

After, Liam tries not to give Paul, Jaime, and Hogan any suspiciously long goodbyes, but actually, Liam’s feeling fairly sad about leaving them behind. He had more kind people in his corner at Devenford Prep than he’d properly remembered. Liam yanks out his time travel notebook, after a surreptitious glance around, and puts it in his notes for himself. Right below maybe consider telling your parents about the supernatural stuff sooner, I swear they’ll get over it and have your back, he writes: Paul, Jaime, and Hogan are nice. Let them be your friends.

By unspoken agreement, Brett stays behind longer than the rest of the team. Then they’re alone at the front circle again. (Liam’s mom is late to pick Liam up, exactly because Liam was late to inform her to pick him up.)

“Hey,” Liam starts awkwardly.

“Hey,” Brett replies in kind. 

Liam kicks pebbles off the curb. A silence yawns between them. 

“I’m going to miss you,” Brett blurts suddenly. 

Liam’s head jerks up at lightning speed. What?

Brett seems to find Liam’s expression comical, and he makes a sound halfway between a chuckle and a scoff, before kicking a pebble off the curb himself. “Don’t look so surprised. You don’t actually… suck.”

Oh gee, was that hard to say, Brett? Liam almost says, but it doesn’t really sound like the direction he wants this conversation to go. “I guess I don’t,” Liam shrugs. “Neither do you, when you’re not actively trying to suck.” 

Brett snorts. The conversation lulls again. Liam lowers his head to hide a smile. Given what happened in the end, it… means a lot to have a sort of camaraderie with Brett again. 

But then Liam’s mind catches on something Brett said. “Wait, you said you’ll miss me? What about the real Liam?”

Brett grimaces at him, not even trying to be subtle. “What, that runt?”

Liam shoots him a look. “You mean, me. That’s still me .”

Brett shakes his head. “Sure.”

Liam starts scowling, but then notices that a tiny corner of Brett’s mouth is quirking upwards. Brett’s having him on. At least partially. 

“When I get back to the future,” Liam warns, pointing his finger at Brett, “the first thing I’m going to do is kick your ass.” If Liam has done his job right and Brett’s ass is still around for Liam to kick, that is.

“In your dreams, Dunbar.”

Liam just shakes his head and grins. “No, I will. You’ll never see it coming.”

***

Mere hours later, Liam is standing by the edge of a large ring of meticulously placed pebbles, centered neatly in a scraggly patch of brown grass between a few grand hardwoods: the closest thing that could pass for a woodland meadow in Beacon Hills. Allison is standing in the center of the circle, slowly rotating two outstretched yardsticks in tandem, while Scott stands at the outside, adjusting pebbles to fit her measurements. Back beside one of the trees, Dr. Deaton is adding a careful apportionment of special herbs to a large, clay bowl, while Mason huddles by him, firing off a rapid string of questions.

As for Liam, he’s laying the finishing touches on one of the hardest jobs… which happens to be wrangling a bunch of loose flower petals into the shape of three complicated Celtic sigils, dotted equidistantly around the inside of the pebble boundary. A crumpled mess of torn, irreparably bent, and crushed petals lies strewn outside the circle by Liam’s side. 

A petal slides beneath one of Liam’s extremely pollen-y, grimy fingernails again. Huffing in exasperation, Liam gently picks it free, and then re-commences the process of getting it un-stuck from his thumb. He has to lean down at an awkward, lopsided angle because of the lack of range of motion from his injured shoulder. Come on, on the ground. On the ground. That’s… it!

Gingerly, Liam makes a few final adjustments of the petal’s placement with the tips of his fingernails, and then he stands, taking a step back from his work. Liam pulls up a picture of Deaton’s drawing of the desired sigil on his phone, and compares the two for the millionth time. 

To Liam’s unpracticed eye, that… looks like it’s a match. 

“Yes,” Liam whispers, pumping a fist close to his chest. 

At the same time, Scott and Allison seem to finish their final sweep of the circle boundary. They’ve apparently decided it’s as close to a true circle as possible. Allison sheathes her yardsticks like they’re hanbo staves and smiles at Liam. “All done,” she says, before picking her way carefully back across the line of pebbles.

“Do we think it’s good enough?” Liam asks Scott.

Scott shrugs. “I’d say that’s up to the doc,” he smiles. 

Fortunately, Dr. Deaton and Mason seem to be pretty much done, too, and rise from their huddle, before making their way over. Deaton carries the clay bowl outstretched and level in front of him as he crosses the circle boundary smoothly, in a way that disturbs none of the painstaking patterns in the grass, as if the guy summons seelies weekly before Sunday brunch. He places the bowl on their makeshift altar, a sizable flat stone situated in the center of the ring, and then begins pacing slowly around the whole setup, inspecting everyone’s work. After only a small adjustment of one of Liam’s sigils (ugh, Liam knew that one was a little wonky), he exits the circle and strides up to Liam. 

“We’ve done all we can now, Liam. The rest is up to you.”

Liam swallows as the rest look at him, their eyes full, their smiles bittersweet. It’s time to say goodbye.

Allison steps forward first, stooping over slightly to give him a hug. “I know I’ve said it before, but thank you, Liam. I’m glad I got to meet you this time.”

Liam bites his lip. “Yeah, me too.” Allison moves to pull away, but Liam halts her subtly, and fishes out his phone, keeping his sling arm pressed against her side. Hidden in between their upper bodies, Liam displays a message he pre-typed for this moment.

For what it’s worth, I don’t think Scott ever got over you, it reads. 

Allison stares at it for a long time, before seeming to forcibly gather herself, her spine straightening. She nods and gives Liam one last, tight smile, squeezing him on his good shoulder, before she turns and walks a few paces away. 

Liam turns to Scott next, and Scott immediately wraps him in an embrace. Liam relaxes into Scott’s arms, drinking in the feel of them, drawing strength from Scott’s steadiness, his constancy. “Scott, I think you might have been the best thing to happen to me, out of any of this stuff,” Liam admits into Scott’s shoulder.

Scott squeezes his hands around Liam once, twice. “Stiles and I are going to read through all the notes. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you, and everyone you love, come out of this safe.”

“You will,” Liam says. “I trust you.”

Next on Liam’s goodbye tour is Mason. Mason wordlessly envelops Liam in a tackle-hug. Liam’s injured shoulder twinges a little in protest.

“Whoa, hey, bro,” Liam says with a nervous half-chuckle, patting Mason on the back. “Uh, I’m still going to be around. Actually, for you, you’re getting the real version of Liam back.”

“You’re the real version of Liam, too,” Mason insists, voice a little muffled on account that it’s buried into Liam’s shirt. 

Warmth fills Liam’s chest. His voice failing him, he awkwardly adjusts his hold on Mason and pulls tighter. 

Mason pulls away first, though he’s still clinging to Liam’s forearms. He looks Liam in the eye. “Promise me that you’ll get back to the future. And when you do, you’ll come find me. Like, immediately. You hear me?”

Liam gives Mason a solemn nod. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Mason nods back. “And I promise you, I am going to do my best to make sure these guys—” he makes a gesture around them, towards Scott, Allison, and Deaton— “actually, all of this stuff , gets explained to mini-Liam without freaking him out.”

Liam chuckles as he shrugs out of Mason’s grasp. “I… think that’s going to be a long shot.”

“Okay, but like, I swear, I’m gonna at least try. ”

They exchange rueful smiles. “Thanks.”

Mason steps back, and Liam glances at Dr. Deaton, before walking over to where he left his backpack, nestled against a tree trunk, and bringing it back to the edge of the summoning circle. Liam unzips it, and pulls out first his notes on the future. He holds them out for Scott, who accepts them with a meaningful nod. Then he pulls out his sacrifice-gifts.

First is the medal. As Deaton explained, most seelie love shiny things, but don’t consider a gift to have any value if it doesn’t have personal value. This medal, Liam earned in the seventh grade. MVP for the Beacon County middle school lacrosse league, back when Beacon Hills middle school had won the county title. It was his first real lacrosse award. Liam ties it gently around his wrist, letting the memories wash over him with the glow of bittersweet nostalgia. 

Second, Liam fishes out his familiar trowel-pike. Usually, seelies might not need a second gift, but the problem with the vast majority of Liam’s possessions, as Liam discussed with Deaton, is that they belong to fourteen-year-old Liam, not the version of Liam currently inhabiting his body. Liam still cares about his lacrosse medal, sure, but lacrosse matters significantly less now to the Liam who has fought in supernatural wars. This trowel-pike is a symbol of Liam’s changed priorities, and is also the only shiny thing that truly belongs to eighteen-year-old Liam in this time. 

Straightening, Liam turns to Deaton. “Got them,” he says. 

Deaton holds out a switchblade and a matchbox, the final items Liam needs, and Liam accepts them. “Good Luck, Liam. Your efforts will not be forgotten.”

With that, Liam steels himself, and crosses over into the summoning circle, carefully stepping around his sigils until he reaches the altar. First, he takes out the switchblade, and slices his good arm just enough to draw blood. Liam maneuvers his arm to hold it over the bowl and squeezes it to make the blood drip. Three drops exactly, Deaton said. One, two… three. He hastily retracts his arm.

Next, the fire. 

Liam gets the match and the matchbox ready. He scans the outside of the circle for one last look at his friends, his mysterious advisor, and his new friend. Scott, Mason, Deaton, and Allison all stand in calm support. 

Liam closes his eyes.

Please, he thinks. Please let this have all been real, let me have fixed it. But also, please let me go home.

He lights the match, and lets it drop into the bowl.

The effects are immediate. Liam gasps as the edges of the summoning circle start to glow a green-ish gold. The flower petal-sigils spark and catch fire, burning into the grass. Then, suddenly, the world seems to churn, listing dangerously back and forth, while darkness suddenly swallows the clearing, bringing the glow of the circle into sudden, starker relief as Liam stumbles and falls on his side. 

A moment later, the tilting of the ground stops. Liam scrambles to prop himself up onto his elbows, scanning frantically around him. It’s as though the world has fallen into night in an instant, but has also become more— there’s more depth to the light and shadow, the sound of the brittle grass rustling beneath his movements is crisper, and the scent of the woods at night is so strong it almost makes him dizzy. In the clearing that Liam can suddenly see in darkness as well as day, all four of his packmates are gone. Neither is the seelie here. He’s alone.

Liam shoots to his feet, but swiftly overbalances and begins stumbling wildly backwards. As his arms wheel, he suddenly realizes that his sling is gone. So is his shoulder wound. And his legs are a hell of a lot longer. 

Finally, it hits Liam: he’s back in his true body. Lycanthropy and all. 

It’s surprisingly overwhelming, regaining all of his enhanced senses at once. As soon as he’s able to steady himself on his two feet, Liam stills, closing his eyes. He listens in to his own heart rate, his own breathing, using their steadiness to ground himself. He rocks onto the balls of his toes, feeling, with wonder, the startling power coiled within each muscle of his legs as he does. The recollection of his bewildered, three-mile run to school the morning after the Bite flits across his mind, and Liam smiles ruefully.

Giving his head a shake to clear it, Liam searches the clearing once more. There’s still no sign of the seelie. The green-gold glow of the summoning circle has dimmed to a modest shine. The grass at the base of the tree trunks looks thicker than he last saw it, and there’s more lichen covering the bark. 

As if years had passed.

Liam’s heart rate quickens. This is it, he’s back home—

—except, something curious catches Liam’s eye. A tiny shape, one that resolves itself into a mosquito upon further inspection, hovers in the air outside the circle. But it isn’t moving. Liam can’t hear the drone of its wings, either—in fact, its wings aren’t even beating. Instead, they’re frozen, as if mid-beat.

Liam glances around, and finds dozens more bugs, frozen exactly like the first. He even spots a leaf, curling around itself, five feet off the ground, like it was in the middle of being blown in the wind. 

It’s like the world’s been put into stasis. 

Liam’s eyes dart to the glowing edge of the circle. Just now, Liam would bet that he wouldn’t be able to cross the boundary if he tried. 

“You have called for me. I am here,” a sibilant voice says from behind him, and Liam jumps clean into the air as he whirls around. His claws nearly come out on instinct, but he stops himself just in time.

It’s the seelie. 

The creature looks just Liam remembers—pointy ears, spindly, too-long limbs, piercing stare. Liam does his best to swallow down his visceral reaction to its wrongness and its gaze that bores into him like it’s stripping him down to his soul, focusing on Deaton’s instructions. “I…” he starts, then swallows and tries again. “I called you here to present my atonement.” 

Realizing that this line probably comes off as impudent without his gifts in hand, Liam scrambles to scoop them up from the ground, where they’d fallen. He extends them forward, watching the seelie closely. 

The seelie cocks its head, looking at them. Its head is listing to the side at an angle far greater than a human’s neck will stretch. 

“I shall require one more gift,” it rasps in that same hissy, snakelike voice.

A jolt of fear courses through Liam from his spine to his fingertips, and then settles deep into his chest, buzzing with sickening urgency. Liam has absolutely nothing else on him, nothing left to give. And if he’s got nothing left to give, the seelie will surely be angry, and he’ll fail his test. What will happen to him now?

As Liam stands, frozen, the air in front of him starts to blur, and a sheet of paper begins to come into focus, floating on air. When it reaches the crispness of full reality, it suddenly drops, fluttering through the air. On instinct, Liam catches it before it hits the ground, and scans it, curious.

Liam’s own handwriting greets him from the page, and a pang in his gut begins to grow. It’s the letter he wrote to himself. 

Liam glances up to the seelie. “I—this is a gift?”

“Your test was to see how you helped others, not yourself,” the seelie replies. “It is a necessary sacrifice.”

“He’ll never get it,” Liam whispers. “Right. O-okay.” Liam takes a second to mourn the opportunity he thought he’d had, to give his younger self some hope for the future.

“He is you. He is not relevant, but as for you…” the seelie says as it begins to pace the outside of the circle, twitching its fingers in a complicated manner. “You have taken my test, and you have produced most interesting results.”

Suddenly, the glow from the pebbled edge of the circle seems to grow upward, and the light morphs into moving images, like videos. Liam watches himself show up on Scott’s doorstep, pull back Jamie amidst the fight on the lacrosse field, cry while staring into his hands in the toolshed, sprint across the battle at Oak Creek towards the Nogitsune. Liam whirls around, eyes wide, trying to keep up with the onslaught.

“You have a question, I can sense. Speak it.”

Seelie hate lies. Just say it. Liam takes a shuddering breath in, eyes still glued to the whirlwind movie reel. “Why me? Why did you test me?”

The light suddenly shrinks, and the moving images disappear with it. “Because I saw within you a conflict. A thoughtlessness, when you attacked me without even giving me so much as a chance to speak.”

Liam cringes. 

“But also a thoughtfulness, that spared your life.” The seelie stops its pacing, and then before Liam’s eyes, its body parts start to warp and melt, limbs compacting in on themselves. Within seconds, there’s a middle-aged woman standing before him. 

A jolt of recognition makes Liam inhale sharply. He remembers her. The day he was sent back in time, she’d been at the grocery store while Liam was running errands for his parents. Her grocery bag had burst, and Liam had gone over to help her pick up all of her things, and then given her one of his family’s cloth bags to use instead. 

Oh my God. That’s exactly the sort of test that powerful beings put on in fairy tales. The main character helps an elderly person in need, and then the elderly person transforms into a fairy godmother and grants three wishes or something. Liam had been tested without knowing it, and he’d passed… at first. And then failed. Badly.

“Oh,” Liam says dumbly. “Oh, I’m… so sorry.”

“I’m a shapeshifter like you, remember?” the lady, who is also the seelie, says, raising an eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Liam swallows. “Yeah, um, that’s very true.”

There’s a flick of her fingers, and then the light grows back into the wall of moving images. “The test of time reveals the truly thoughtless and the truly thoughtful. The thoughtless will amuse themselves, will set off the wrong domino, and throw their future into chaos.” The scenes shift to the maelstrom of a battle, and Liam recognizes from brief glimpses Scott, Allison, and Kira… along with several Berserkers, and Kate, and the monstrous transformation of a murderous Peter. His heart skips a beat as he realizes this is a battle that never occurred, in his timeline, but that may have happened after he left. “The thoughtful will use their knowledge wisely, and only reveal it to make the future better.” Liam watches in detached fascination as the small form of his fourteen-year-old body jumps in the way of an Oni’s blade, while Allison gasps, spared. Then the scene changes, and Allison is laughing in the lunch room with Malia by her side. Then she’s firing an arrow directly into the mask of a Berserker. Then she and Scott are sitting on either side of Liam on the couch of Liam’s own house. Then Allison is standing protectively in front of the pack, her bow lowered at her side, while a group of people with guns stand opposite her, some of which Liam recognizes as members of Monroe’s hunters. She looks like she’s in the middle of an impassioned speech. 

“Make no mistake, saving the life of Allison Argent has saved the life of many others,” the seelie says. “Your heart chose her as the time to start, and it chose well with her. But you must not fail to recognize the lives you failed to save, because you lacked the personal connection to go back further.” More images. Scott wheezes in pain and despair over the bleeding body of a deputy at the sheriff’s station. A shadowy figure tightens a cord around the neck of a girl tied to a tree. Two reptilian hands tipped by monstrous claws gouge out a man’s ribcage. A man covered in blood is dragged backwards, screaming, down the aisle of a school bus. Liam screws his eyes shut when he can’t take any more. 

“But the lives you saved outweigh the lives you failed to save.” Many more faces flash by. Liam recognizes Carrie and Demarco from Satomi’s pack. Tracy and Josh. A few students, teachers, and cops Liam thinks he remembers the Beast killing. 

Brett and Lori. 

Allison.

The images snuff out, and Liam is left reeling, hope pounding in his heart. Has he really done it? Are they all still alive in this timeline?

He turns to the seelie, trying to gauge what her next move is. Is she… trying to tell him he passed?

A small smile appears on the seelie’s face. “You are the only person in Beacon Hills I have tested with the test of time who has saved more lives than he has snuffed out. Therefore, Liam Dunbar, I have granted you the ability to keep what you have done.”

Liam’s eyes bug. “Really?” His heart rate picks up, honestly because… he mostly thought it was his own life on the line this whole time with the seelie, not the lives of Allison and Brett and everybody he’d saved because of his meddling with the timeline. If they’d all been at risk because of him…. “Oh, thank you thank you thank you.”

“Henceforth, you will be a man who has lived two lives. Use your lessons wisely.” The seelie raises a hand in a dramatic gesture. 

“Wait—” Liam cries, reaching forwards.

She pauses mid-gesture.

“Uh… what’s your name?” There’s silence for a moment, and Liam rubs the back of his neck. “Um, Scott would probably like to meet you, and, like, get to thank you.”

The seelie’s lips quirk into a mysterious smile. “No one on earth shall see me for a century. This is the price.”

“Wait, what—”

“Goodbye, Liam.” And then she flicks her fingers, and disappears.

Chapter Text

The glow of the summoning circle fades, and the mosquitos resume their buzzing. The medal, the trowel-pike, and the letter all vanish.

That’s when the headache starts. 

Reams of memories crash into him, spinning through his mind at breakneck speed. Liam recalls Brett jeering at him as he gets another red card during a lacrosse game, except now he also remembers Brett holding him back and telling him to breathe. He sees Scott biting into his arm over the lip of the darkened hospital roof, except no, he also sees it happening through pain-blurred vision as he lies outstretched on the table at the animal clinic. 

Liam’s breath leaves him with a grunt, and he falls to his knees. The flashes of memories accelerate. Liam kneeling in the woods over his newfound claws, gazing up through tears at Scott, yet feeling a first kindling of hope. Liam chained up in the lakehouse, his vision running red, Scott and Mason kneeling by him and uttering reassurances. Hurtling through the air, ribs in agony, after being swatted aside by a Berserker. Kate Argent’s claws, swiping down for his throat, halted by an arrow to her shoulder. A whirring mystery medical tool, descending upon him under a Dread Doctor’s impassive gaze. Glaring into a tied-up but smirking Theo’s face, demanding information. The library at night, once, twice. Running from Ghost Riders with Hayden and Kira. Watching through swollen eyes as Coach pulls Nolan and Gabe off him in a rage. Allison teaching Nolan the new code as Isaac teaches Liam how to operate a taser. Two parallel lives, unfolding with nauseating rapidity before his mind’s eye. 

Then, as suddenly as the onslaught begins, it stops. Liam blinks furiously as he comes to, facing the stars. At some point, he must have fallen to the ground.

Frowning at the effort, Liam hauls himself into a squat and jumps to his feet, glancing around. 

The seelie seems well and truly gone. It’s just Liam, now. Liam, and… this world, that he knows and he doesn’t know all at once. It’s a joyful novelty that Allison is alive, and yet she’s always been there, in the middle of every supernatural trial Liam has ever lived through. Liam raises a hand to his temple as a wave of dizziness washes over him. 

Victory has never felt so… peaceful, as though he’s simply stepped into the way things have always been, the way they should be. It’s fairly anticlimactic. 

But, Liam realizes, he still made a promise to fourteen-year-old Mason. He intends to keep it. 

***

Mason opens the door, takes one look at Liam, stares, and asks, “Did I miss something?”

Liam grins and shrugs. “Hey, Mason! I’m back to the future!” He gives Mason some half-assed jazz hands to punctuate the statement.

It takes Mason a second, but then his eyes widen, and he runs down the steps to give Liam a hug. “Oh my God, it’s you!”

“I guess so,” Liam chuckles wryly.

“I missed you!” 

“I’ve literally been right here the whole time,” Liam points out.

“Yeah, but not Future-You—wait—” Mason pulls back and puts his arms on Liam’s shoulders, analyzing his face with sudden interest and intensity. “Is it, like, just you in there, or—”

“No, it’s both. I remember everything two ways, now. It’s… trippy.”

“Whoa. Insane,” Mason breathes. 

Liam scrunches his eyes, remembering his strange memory-download experience. “Tell me about it.”

“Dude, you tell me about it,” Mason says. “Like, right now. Tell me everything.”

“You were there for everything!”

“And I had, like, just about no clue what was going on the whole time,” Mason replies, already grabbing Liam by the shoulder and ushering him in. “I need the full recap, stat. ”

“Fine, ” Liam says, but he’s beaming. 

All Liam’s friends are alive and well. Beacon Hills is quiet as it settles in for the night, (only somewhat) blissfully unaware of what the pack has done for it. Just as Liam likes it.

Come what may. Liam has a pack on his side.

***

Allison’s phone screen blinks to life from its resting place on the nightstand, piercing her vision with harsh, blue-ish light. Not an emergency—Lydia and Stiles had long ago set up a system for them all that allows emergency texts to notify them regardless of whether their ringers are on or off, but Allison is just awake enough for her curiosity to be piqued. Carefully, she inches away from Scott’s prone form beside her and grabs at her phone, squinting at its lockscreen.

“What is it?” Scott whispers behind her. One downside to his werewolf hearing, Allison supposes—it’s always been difficult not to wake him up if she stirs in the night.

“Um—” Allison taps on the message in the pack groupchat. It’s from Liam. 

Marty Mcfirefly: Guess who’s back to the future?

“Oh!” She covers her grin with her hand and rolls over, displaying the message to Scott. Scott winces blearily, but Allison can tell when he’s read it, because he suddenly looks far more awake. His mouth opens slightly, his eyes widening, and he glances back to her. “Wow!”

“Yep.”  

Scott rolls towards his side of the (tiny, twin-sized college-dorm) bed and scrabbles at his own phone, resting on the windowsill. “I—I guess we knew it was about the right time,” he says, “but I was still definitely not expecting that.”

“Totally,” Allison agrees, as the texts start rolling in.

Foxy Lady: sdflkdsfslknf wow!! 

Tiptoes: welcome back bitth

Tiptoes: *bitch

Theo: bitth

Marty Mcfirefly: wRONG TIME asshole

ucantseeme: wait how do you remember that how does that work

Trouble-O-7: no offense but did we not erase the original time-traveling liam

Marty Mcfirefly: no I have two sets of memories now 

Marty Mcfirefly: like i remember pack movie night yesterday just as much as i remember punching theo in the face. repeatedly. at the zoo

Tiptoes: you’ve punched theo in the face so many times liam how is that special?

Marty Mcfirefly: in this timeline I never punched him at the zoo. I punched him at the sheriffss station.

Theo: Wow what a difference. I’ve been spared.

Trouble-O-7: liam when you traveled back in time you created two separate timelines. they branched off from each other. the you that time-traveled no longer exists

Marty Mcfirefly: hey fuck you I exist

Trouble-O-7: timelines don’t just fold in on each other! 

Foxy Lady: i think these ones did

Mini-Stiles: its *magic* :))))

Trouble-O-7: ok you and I are going to have a chat about this seelie liam because that is a concerning amount of reality-bending?? power

TheeWorst: Congratulations on your return, Liam. 

Trouble-O-7: HEY buzz off fuckface 

Trouble-O-7:  scott didn’t we remove Peter from this chat??? Last week??? 

Allison chuckles and glances over at Scott, who looks like he’s scrolling through everything to catch up. “Scott, I think you’re being summoned.”

“Hmm?” Scott asks distractedly. 

Allison’s phone lights with a new notification.

Fields Medal Diva has removed TheeWorst from Tree Stump Gang.

Foxy Lady: everybody say thank you, Lydia

Marty Mcfirefly: thank you

Trouble-O-7: thank you

Monsieur Lahey: thank you

Scott <3 <3 <3: thank you

Allison lets out a snort and puts down her phone. “It’s so weird to think that something so big happened, in another time, I guess, but for the rest of us…”

“Yeah,” Scott agrees. “Everything’s just…normal.”

Shaking her head, Allison powers down her phone and places it back on its charging station on the nightstand. She ponders what it must be like to remember life two different ways. It sounds confusing, headache-inducing. 

And in one of those lives, Allison had… she’d been… well, long dead. 

Suddenly, it strikes her that Liam is now, once more, the person who once saved her life. It’s a strange thought. The time-traveling Liam she’d met first had been leagues beyond the confused, angry, yet star-struck kid he’d left behind, the kid she, Scott, and Stiles had ushered under their wings until he became something like a little brother to them. But as she thinks on it, she realizes Liam has blossomed into a much calmer, far more self-assured protector in the years since. Scott’s first bitten Beta. Leader of the werewolf side of things while Scott’s at UC Davis with her. It isn’t any sort of surprise that Liam could be capable of rising to the occasion and stopping the Nogitsune before it could take her life. 

She wants to see Liam, suddenly.

“Scott?” Allison asks.

“Mmm?” he replies, not looking up from his phone. 

“I think we should celebrate this.”

This gets Scott’s attention, and he puts the phone down. “How so?”

“Like…” Ideas start pouring in. “Like, a party. I think we should have a welcome-back party. For Other Liam.”

“Oh,” Scott says. “That’s… actually a good idea.”

“Finals are coming up, and then it’ll be summer,” Allison says. “We could sneak in there with all the graduation parties. Throw a special one that’s just Pack.”

“We were kind of already going to do that,” Scott points out. 

Allison shakes her head. “I—you know what I mean.”

“I do,” Scott acquiesces, and he leans in to peck her on the cheek. 

Allison reaches for her phone a final time.

How do you feel about planning a party with me, Allison messages Lydia. 

it is two in the morning, Lydia replies. I am not in California, I’m in Cambridge.

Shit, sorry

I didn’t mean now

Allison’s still typing out apologies and details when Lydia’s response comes in.

what party?

Allison smiles.

***

“Command hooks,” Allison calls over her shoulder. “Does anyone have that pack of Command hooks?”

“A little busy,” Isaac calls back in a distracted manner, from where he’s lifting up the couch to vacuum underneath it, as she and Lydia hold up both edges of the Welcome Back to the Future! banner across the McCall household’s living room.

“I got it,” Kira shouts from halfway up the stairs where she’s hanging colorful lights with Corey. “Stiles?”

“Hmm?” Stiles says, his head jerking up from the message he’s writing on the group card, the back end of his pen in his mouth. 

“Catch!”

The Command hooks go flying, a little too far. Stiles’s pathetic attempt to bat them out of the air above his head fails, and beside him, Mason also makes a try, but his hands close on air as the packet lands at Isaac’s feet. 

Isaac turns over his shoulder, hands still full, to stare at the hooks by his heels for a moment. “Wow.”

“Shut up,” Stiles grumbles as he reaches brazenly over Mason to grab at them, leaving both in an awkward tangle on the ground.

“Dude!” Mason complains.

“Got ‘em!” Stiles crows as he jumps up, then, thankfully, walks up to Allison, instead of throwing them, and hands them up to her. 

“Thanks,” Allison says wryly. She pulls one hook out and then tosses the packet to Lydia. Because Allison’s aim isn’t dogshit, it actually reaches Lydia, and she catches it neatly. 

A text chime sounds from behind Allison as she peels back the sticky backing from her Command hook. “Shit!” Mason cries.

“What now,” Lydia snaps. 

“He says he just got back to his house,” Mason says. “He runs, like, really fast, so I’m guessing that means he’ll be here in, like, ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes!” Allison promptly yells in the direction of the kitchen. 

“We hear you!” Scott’s mom shouts back. 

Brett walks into the living room with a giant bowl under his arm and two bags of chips, one of which he is currently shoving his hand inside. He pops a couple chips in his mouth. “Guacamole?” he offers. 

Stiles snatches the bowl out of Brett’s hands, with prejudice. “Wait for company, asshat,” he snipes, arranging the bowl carefully on the coffee table. 

“Does anyone have the ETA on Derek, Braeden, and Malia?” Allison asks the room. 

“Last Malia texted, they were at the roundabout at Vallejo street,” Issac shouts, having moved on to vacuuming the corner. 

Allison carefully presses her hook onto the wall and holds. From across the room, Lydia does the same.

“I need the hooks again!” Kira’s voice calls.

“Stiles?” Lydia says, voice strained. Stiles startles slightly, then jogs over to grab them from her. He then lobs them at Kira’s outstretched hand, from all the way across the room. They land with a cacophony of plinks and rattles on the third step of the stairs, before falling down to the bottom step.

“Thanks,” Corey grouses as he descends the stairs to grab them.

Mason stands suddenly, turning in place to survey the room. “Okay, who hasn’t signed the card?” 

“Theo hasn’t,” Brett smirks.

Mason’s eyes narrow, and he starts off towards the kitchen. “Theo!”

Meanwhile, Isaac’s vacuum bumps into the chair Lydia’s standing on. “Hey, can you…” he asks awkwardly. 

“Wait, just two seconds,” Lydia hisses in reply.

Then the doorbell rings, and everyone freezes. 

“Shit,” Stiles says, with feeling. Isaac turns the vacuum off. 

“It’s just us!” Malia’s voice calls from outside, and it feels like the whole room takes a massive sigh of relief. Stiles strides to the door and lets them in, at the same time that Allison decides her Command hook has probably set for long enough. She laces the small hole she’d made in the banner through the hook and then steps down from the chair she’d been standing on, scanning her handiwork. 

“Someone ask them if they brought the milk!” Mrs. McCall hollers from the kitchen. Derek squeezes by Allison with an “Excuse me,” carrying a grocery bag and several packs of drinks. 

“This is… something,” Malia says as she glances around the room. 

“It’s themed,” Allison corrects her, hands on her hips. “Time travel.”

Usually, Lydia will never be caught dead throwing a cheesily-themed party, but Allison had managed to talk her into it. The McCall living room is a wash of time travel references and clocks. There’s a cardboard TARDIS on the back wall. The stairs are a wormhole. Lydia had managed to get a cake decorator to make an entire cake into a DeLorean. 

“Wow,” Malia allows as she nods slowly, clearly attempting not to say something snarky. Allison rolls her eyes.

Braeden comes up and stands a little in front of Malia, in a subtle but pointed gesture. “Anything we can do to help?”

“Sign the card!” Mason shouts from the kitchen. 

“One second,” Theo’s voice puts in, sounding harried.

“I have a couple more streamers to hang,” Allison says. “Malia, you can help me with those. Braeden, I have a feeling Melissa and Scott could use another hand in the kitchen.”

Braeden cringes. “I hate to say it, but I may not be the best choice for that job.”

“There’s always the dishes,” Allison smiles ruefully, and Braden laughs in agreement, before making her way into the kitchen. 

The doorbell rings again.

“Nobody panic! Stiles shouts, scrambling for the door. “It’s just Dad and Parrish!”

Allison puts a hand over her heart to ease her nerves, taking a calming breath in. 

“Hey, Allison, when is your dad showing up?” Isaac asks.

“He got a little tied up on a job with Deaton. They’re going to be around an hour late,” Allison replies as she fishes out the crepe paper she’d bought from her shopping bag full of party supplies. She whirls around to hand it to Malia. “Hold this.”

“What about Hayden and Nolan?” Malia says, peeking into the kitchen. “Alec?”

Allison smirks. “Oh, they’re already here. Apparently, they lost some sort of bet with Mason and Corey which meant they were the ones who had to clean the bathroom.” Allison finishes grabbing the silver tinsel and tape to go along with the streamers and grabs Lydia’s now-vacated chair, guiding Malia to the corner of the room Isaac just finished cleaning. 

“Wow,” Malia says. “So, that’s everyone, everyone.”

“Well, Jackson, Ethan and Aiden couldn’t make it,” Lydia pipes up as she digs in the shopping bag for her own batch of crepe paper. “Something about a double-date holiday in Croatia.” She rolls her eyes.

“Isn’t that the fifth girl he’s dated in three months?” Malia snorts. 

“So, everyone who counts is here,” Isaac mutters. Allison laughs, despite herself. Lydia elbows him.

“He’s not wrong,” Stiles shrugs, holding a lamp aloft so Isaac can vacuum underneath it. Old grudges die hard, clearly, but this is nothing new for Stiles. Allison fairly doubts he’ll ever take a liking to Aiden, even though Stiles and Lydia have been going steady for a couple years now. 

Allison steps onto the chair and starts unfurling the crepe paper, holding it up to the corner. “I can’t quite believe we managed to get as many of us in one place as we did. I feel like it’s been so long since we were all together.”

“Yeah,” Malia agrees. 

As Allison asks Malia to cut off a piece of tape for her, she takes a look around the room herself. There’s Malia, who tagged along with Braeden and Derek this year for some bounty-hunting jobs and seems to be glowing from the adventure; Lydia, who already has just one year left in her undergraduate MIT degree, and Stiles, still at Quantico, who both somehow manage to make enough time to see each other in between; Isaac, who fell in love with France and its hunter community after tagging along on a few jobs with Allison and her dad, and is now going to college there; and Kira, now at NYU, reconnecting with the city she grew up in. All of them, back home at once for the sake of the pack. Then there’s the ones who stayed; the high school kids, most graduating this year and hopefully on to bigger, better things; Allison’s father, the Sheriff, Parrish, Deaton, and Mrs. McCall, all with the vital jobs of keeping the young pack safe and out of trouble in the absence of their Alpha; and then there’s she and Scott, two years deep into their time at UC Davis, surprisingly able to get a mostly uninterrupted education thanks to the rest who’d stayed. Allison’s father helped her liaise with her growing network of hunters who follow the New Code, while Deaton helped Liam take on a good share of Scott’s Alpha responsibilities. With Liam leaving for college next year, Derek has worked out a plan with Scott to return to Beacon Hills, keeping an eye out for werewolf business, so Allison and Scott can keep taking their classes, together. Hopefully, she and Scott will be able to snag a suite together next year.

Her future looks bright. And there’s no one she would rather spend it with than everyone in this room. 

Allison’s chest warms, and she beams. 

Scott drifts over from the kitchen just as Allison and Malia are wrapping up with their last streamer. 

“The tacos and wings ready?” Allison asks.

“As they’re going to be,” Scott chuckles softly. He notices Malia and perks up. “Hey!” he says, and the two hug. Allison slaps her last bit of tape on with a flourish, and steps down from the chair she’s standing on.

“Does this mean we’re done?” Malia asks hopefully.

“I suppose,” Allison laughs. 

“Great, I’m starving,” Malia announces, and she strides directly towards the kitchen. Scott watches her go.

Allison quirks an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you going to stop her?” 

He just gives her a look like he’s trying not to laugh. “I think Theo’s got it covered.”

“Hey, HANDS OFF!” they promptly hear from the kitchen, and the two of them dissolve into giggles. 

Warm hands snake around her, and Allison rests her head on Scott’s chest. “I feel so… grateful,” she murmurs. “This almost didn’t happen.”

“Hey,” Scott says softly, adjusting his grip a little tighter. “Don’t think like that.”

“We almost didn’t happen,” Allison whispers. She gives a tiny snort. “Though Liam almost made it worse, by pushing a little too hard.”

“He was right in the end, though,” Scott says in that earnest way that makes her heart sing with affection.

“Yeah,” Allison smiles. “He was totally, completely right.”

The doorbell rings, and everyone freezes once more. This time, Mason comes bursting into the living room, holding up one finger into the air as he glances down at his phone. Then, he looks up excitedly and gesticulates in the direction of the door. Liam is here. 

Allison and Scott pull back and exchange looks. Scott’s eyes are shining. 

With a muffled giggle, Allison grabs his hand and pulls him in the direction of the door, so that it’s she, Scott, and Mason at the front. 

She grabs the knob, and she pulls it open. 

“SURPRISE!” everyone shouts. Someone (Allison thinks it may have been Corey) has procured a handful of noisemakers, and those who have them blow them, hard enough to make a few of the werewolves wince. 

Liam looks a little shellshocked at first, but then as he glances at each of them, a soft grin begins to grow on his face. 

Allison is the first to step forward. “Welcome back, Marty McFirefly,” she greets him. 

“It’s what she named you in her phone,” Scott stage-whispers.

Allison steps forward and wraps Liam into a firm embrace. Liam, though a little surprised at first, returns it readily. “Thank you for everything,” Allison whispers. 

There are a few murmurs of impatience behind them, so Allison lets him go after a couple moments. 

“Who’s ready to party?” Mason hollers suddenly.

The pack cheers, and within seconds, Liam’s ushered inside by a swarm of friends. 

It’s a damn good party. The tacos and guacamole are pitch-perfect, the decorations, finished just in the nick of time, are just the right level of silly, and the company is perfect. 

As they watch Liam and the other freshly graduated seniors fight over the last of the guacamole, Allison takes Scott’s hand and places it over her still-beating heart.

Come what may. Allison will be happy if her friends, and Scott, are by her side.