"Why are you such a hardass all the time?" Stiles asked, masking the curious nature of his question with a jestful tone.
Liam's head snapped around and gave him a harsh glare while clenching his teeth, making Stiles jump. "The dynamite", as Stiles had not-so-affectionately nicknamed Liam after learning of his IED diagnosis, was still not in complete control of his werewolf abilities, especially on a night like tonight.
"Guys, stop," demanded Scott, not wanting to trigger his new beta off on a maiming and disfiguring spree.
The trio were lurking in the boys' locker room. It was a Saturday night and they had just finished another lacrosse game, thankfully with no incidents. A majority of the rest of the team, and coach, had already left, and the last few were in the process of packing up to go.
Tonight was a full moon. Liam had progressed with Scott acting as his mentor and alpha, but he felt that they needed some new challenges. Derek was against the idea of letting the Dynamite out on a full moon in a public place full of people, but Scott insisted that he couldn't spend the rest of his life, even if it was only for one night a month, inside, hiding from everybody; he would have to master his other side eventually.
Stiles was totally against the idea; irrevocably against the idea. The reason that he was still accompanying Scott after the game wasn't that he was still entirely distrustful of Liam, or that he was worried for Scott (because obviously the true alpha could take care of himself), but rather because if he went back home he would have to deal with his brooding, ex-alpha, leather-jacket-wearing boyfriend's psychotic, narcissistic uncle with an attitude.
"I only have my bike. Liam, you want Stiles to drive you back to my place?" Scott asked.
Liam rolled his eyes, not really a fan of spending time with the sarcastic skinny boy (who he found highly annoying), let alone time alone with him.
Stiles could tell. He crossed his arms, acting proud and mighty as if he was too good to give the new kid a ride. Scott gave his friend a glare, to which Stiles responded by mouthing something back at him along the lines of "really, Scott?" with an equally as annoyed wave of his hands.
"Fine. Hurry up. Don't touch anything." He paused. "And claws in," he concluded adamantly.
By the time Stiles and Scott reached their vehicles, Liam was already inside the jeep. He liked to test out his abilities. He would often run at a wolf pace when he was sure nobody was around.
"See you soon," Scott said to the pair before he took off.
Stiles and Liam shared an odd look before they too began their travel. Not far from the conclusion of the trip, with nothing having been said, the pair stopped at a set of street lights that were red. As they were waiting, Liam began to fidget curiously.
"What are you doing?" Stiles queried, unimpressed.
"I—I don't know. I'm," the young beta started out as he wound down the jeep's window, "itchy. Burning."
"Okay well we're almost there, just h—" but before Stiles could finish, he noticed what he presumed to be the cause of Liam's discomfort. There was a sliver of bright white moonlight streaming in from the back window of the jeep straight on to Liam's neck. "Oh, no."
"What?" Liam panted out, still scratching at himself, unable to stay still.
"Nothing," Stiles said as he planted his foot on the accelerator.
The tyres screeched as the jeep came to a halt outside Scott's house. Stiles jumped out as quickly as he could, running (and almost slipping in the process) to open the door to let the Dynamite out of his car. Scott must have heard something because he too was running towards the jeep as soon as it pulled up. He caught Liam as he almost fell to the ground.
"Liam? Liam? Are you OK?"
The boy looked up at his alpha. His eyes were glowing their beautiful shade of gold, and his fangs were drawn.
"Moonlight. It like, directly hit him. Like a beam of it," Stiles said, flailing around trying to point to his own neck as Liam let out a weakened roar-groan which made him flinch.
"Get out of here, Stiles," said Scott.
Stiles gave the alpha a look, to which his friend responded "we'll be OK." Stiles obliged reluctantly and sped away in his jeep.
"Come on, let's get you inside," Scott said as he hooked Liam over his shoulder.
Thankfully his mother wasn't home. She was on board with the supernatural thing, but nobody really needs to see a werewolf's fangs every time they come home from a shift at a hospital dealing with blood and broken bones.
Scott dropped Liam, who was now writhing—not just in pain, but in an attempt to control himself—onto his bed. He began to pace, looking back at the boy and wondering what he was going to do. There were no chains here, not that he was really a fan of restraining his betas anyway.
"Liam. Your anchor. Think of that," he said as he moved over to hold the boy's arms in an attempt to immobilise him.
It was no use; Liam couldn't hear him. He was thrashing about on the bed. His eyes flickered from gold to gray then back to gold repeatedly as he was struggling to control himself. His claws were making tears in the bedding as well as his own clothes. This was the worst change Scott had ever seen his beta experience. Maybe Derek was right that it was still too soon for him to have trusted Liam would be able to do this. But then he remembered something else Derek said: "you're their alpha."
By now Liam had struggled with himself so much that he had fallen to the floor beside the bed. Scott knelt down, keeping Derek's words in mind, and grabbed Liam's head to hold it between his hands. Just as he was about to do what he thought was right—command the beta to calm down—he remembered back to when someone did that to him, and how rotten and frightened it made him feel. He didn't want to impose that on someone else. He couldn't. That wasn't what Scott McCall was all about. He trusted his pack. And they trusted him.
It was only a momentary thought, but it was long enough for Liam to take the opportunity–unconsciously, as he was in less control of his own actions now than he was before–to break free of his alpha's hold. In the process he swung an arm around which broke the leg of a nearby desk, making a horrendously loud sound as the books atop it crashed to the ground. The young beta eyed the window and looked as if he was about to make haste when Scott grabbed him mid-jump. The two fell back to the floor, Scott shuffling back up against a wall holding the beta against his chest to stop him from moving.
"Hey–hey–hey...Liam, breathe. Breathe, Liam," he said calmly, despite the young boy frantically attempting to break free of his hold.
Scott pulled Liam tighter towards him. His strength was unmatched, allowing him to momentarily free his right hand and place it flat over Liam's chest.
"Breathe," he said as he inhaled deeply. "Breathe," he repeated.
He kept inhaling and exhaling deeply, slowly. He would push his hand against the boy's chest when he exhaled, in an attempt to match their breathing patterns.
"I'm here. It's okay. I'm here," Scott said as he closed his eyes.
To his surprise, the only-moments-ago frantic, thrashing young werewolf calmed, and then reclined back into the alpha, panting, similarly to how one would if recovering from a marathon. When Scott looked at the boy, he saw that his fangs had retracted and his eyes were their normal shade of human gray. He let out another dramatic sigh, realising he had avoided what could have been an otherwise disastrous situation. Liam, exhausted, didn't move. It was only when Scott went to get up that he realised that Liam was sniffling.
"My parents...they're not proud of me. They're scared of me," he said as he fought back tears. "They don't want me there... I–I don't have anybody else."
Scott paused to think about what his friend just said to him, then responded "you have me," as he embraced his young beta.