Title: Oh, I Should Have
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~2,400
Characters: Liam/Hayden
Summary: "My sister got shot," she says, and then meets his eyes again, eyebrows narrowing as if daring him to say something, or warning him not to. He honestly can't tell.
A/N: I am so excited to see Liam and Hayden's story unfold. I didn't really write this as a prediction, though—just a way to channel my shipping anticipation.
Oh, I Should Have
He gets a text from his mom after school asking him to drop food off to his dad at the hospital, which is fine. Lacrosse practice got cancelled for today, and he's not meeting up with Scott and everyone else for another hour, so he's got time. He lets his dad know that he's stopping by and asks what he thinks he wants to eat, and Lydia offers to give him a ride so he won't have to take the bus, which is awesome. She's been driving him around a lot more lately, ever since the end of summer, when he mentioned having to take the bus for an hour to meet his mom in the next city over. Lydia offered to take him, and then she paid for fast food on the way and made him carry her bags when they took a detour to the mall.
Now she's kind of playing Big Sister with him, which is pretty great, actually. He's got no complaints there.
She drops him off at the hospital and says she'll be back in twenty, because she's going to stop by the station for a bit, and he knows why. He doesn't have anything against Deputy Parrish, but he's already been a third wheel to their flirtation a few more times than he's liked, so he passes on the invite to tag along. He'll just hang out with his dad for a bit.
"Hi, Liam," one of the receptionists greet when he walks in. "I'll call your dad."
"Thanks," he says. He sets the food down on the counter and leans against it, looking around. It's pretty quiet, which is usually a good thing here.
He's kind of craving a soda, and he knows there's a vending machine around the corner, so he gestures for the receptionist to keep an eye the food and then walks away when she nods. He swings his backpack around and starts digging for the dollar he knows he stuffed in there, but then someone says his name, and he snaps his head up to see—
Hayden.
She's standing in front of the vending machine, arms crossed and grimace forming on her face, and he bites back a groan.
Of course, he couldn't have one moment of peace, could he? He wonders if he should just turn back now, but she'd probably just follow him.
The last thing he expected was to start off sophomore year with Hayden coming back into his life, and he thinks that's saying something, since he spent half of last year with a price on his head and more than enough people willing to collect. He might just take more assassins over this. But not actually, of course, because he knows that actual threats to his life are worse than Hayden threatening to seek vengeance. (She's as dramatic as he remembers.) After everything he's been through, he can handle her trying to get under his skin.
He hopes so, anyway.
"Hayden," he says, and he knows he must be making a face, because she rolls her eyes.
"As if my day couldn't get any worse," she mumbles under her breath. He wants to retort, but then he remembers that she won't know that he heard anything.
Her words catch him a little off guard, though, and he looks at her – like, really looks at her – and realizes that, shit. She's been crying.
She's tried to hide it, he can tell, because her cheeks aren't all flushed anymore, but her eyes are still a little red around the edges and a little puffy. He's seen her cry only twice before, but when your childhood rival cries in front of you, it sticks with you. And he's only ever seen her in school since she moved into town, so maybe that's why it takes him a moment longer than it should to realize that they're standing in the hospital – in the emergency wing of the hospital – and that probably has to do with why she's been crying.
"What?" she snaps, and he blinks and glances away, not realizing he'd been staring.
"Nothing," he mumbles. He steps closer and she takes a step back in surprise, which gives him enough room to feed his dollar into the vending machine.
She slams her hand on one of the buttons, and the machine dispenses a Diet Coca-Cola for him. He knows she knows this is his favorite (well, he could care less for the diet part) because they'd had a fight in the fourth grade about Coca-Cola vs. Pepsi—and with actual hitting on her part. But if she actually remembers this, she doesn't show it.
"So," he says, reaching down to grab his drink. "What're you doing here?"
Her eyes snap onto his, and for a quick second, he thinks she's going to slap him, or at least yell at him to mind his own.
But then she blinks a few times and glances up at the ceiling, which is what she does when she's trying not to cry. He remembers this about her, too, mostly because he was the one that was always trying to make her cry. (He winces. God, he was such a little ass back then.)
"My sister got shot," she says, and then meets his eyes again, eyebrows narrowing as if daring him to say something, or warning him not to. He honestly can't tell.
He'll take his chances, though. "Someone shot at an officer?"
"A uniform doesn't mean anything to someone that's desperate enough," she says. It sounds like something her sister might've said to her before. He can't imagine this is the first time Hayden's had to go through this. Her sister has been an officer, or training to become one, for as long as he can remember.
"Is she okay?"
"Yeah," she says, moving to lean back against the vending machine. "She just has to go into surgery to get the bullet out. It got pretty deep into her shoulder."
"That sucks," he says. It sounds lame, but he knows she'd appreciate it more than some sort of pity apology.
"Still not big on sympathy, are we, Dunbar?" she asks, and he sort of blinks and doesn't respond, because there's this teasing tone to her voice that he hasn't heard in a long, long time, and she has that faint smirk of hers that takes him right back to grade school. God, he used to hate that smirk. She'd get that look on her face and he knew that they would be at each other's throats on the playground, because she always knew the right things to do and say to get him to want to participate in whatever crazy competition she'd decided on.
Honestly? She's probably half the reason he's a good athlete, the reason he had impressive grades. He practiced every day and studied his ass off to keep up with her.
He lets out a breath, and his soda almost slips from his fingers.
Everything suddenly makes a little more sense and he's not sure if he's relieved because of it. Because – while he may only be a sophomore, and while he barely knows how he gets through each day, or how he's even still alive – he knows what something like this is supposed to mean.
And he finally understands that stupid feeling he gets whenever he sees her—that weirdly uncomfortable mix of dread and annoyance, but also adrenaline, or something really, really close to that, because that's what he associates with Hayden: adrenaline, and frustration, and breathlessness. Their favorite competition was always racing; it was the one thing they were quick to agree on, settling things over a race. He loved how his muscles ached and how his lungs burned for air, and he loved that rush he'd get whenever he saw her start to pull ahead of him. She always got under his skin, but he's never lost his temper with her, either. Even if it didn't feel like it, he always had control. He was never really angry with her.
Oh, he's so screwed.
"What?" she asks. It snaps him out of his thoughts, and he realizes she's staring at him again, eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" he echoes like an idiot.
"Why are you just staring at me like that?" she asks, crossing her arms.
He shakes his head. "Nothing," he says, and then unscrews the cap off of his drink and gulps it down to keep from talking. He feels her eyes pressing into his face, and he knows she's suspicious. But she only stares at him a moment longer before shifting her gaze. She looks vaguely pissed now and he already knows why before she says the words.
"I can tell when you're lying to me, Liam." Her voice is calm, almost nonchalant, but he almost flinches at the way she says his name. "I've been on the receiving end of it before."
"I know," he says, and her eyes dart to his, curls bouncing with how fast she snaps her head to look at him. This time he does flinch. "I mean, how could I forget?"
She holds their stare for a long moment. He tightens his grip on his soda and then loosens it. He wants to look away, but also doesn't.
Finally, she asks, "Is that supposed to be your attempt at an apology?"
He exhales slowly, shaking his head, and, for whatever reason, this makes her expression ease ever so slightly. He takes that as a sign to keep going, so he continues with, "I'm sorry, Hayden," in this soft voice that catches them both off guard. He thinks he's only ever talked to his parents like this before, but it just happens in this moment.
He expects her to say something, but she just presses her lips together, waiting. He has no idea how their conversation turned to this, but honestly? He's glad that it did.
This is something he should've done back in the sixth grade. Then maybe things wouldn't have gotten so bad between them.
He's never rehearsed this in his head, but he's gone over that night so many times before that the words sort of just tumble out all at once. "I'm sorry that I dared you to break into the middle school with me," he tells her. She holds his gaze, and strangely enough, it makes him press on. "I'm sorry that I convinced you to do it even though I knew how scared you were about getting caught. I'm sorry that I told you I wouldn't leave you," he says, a little softer, and maybe he imagines it, but he swears she flinches at this. "I'm sorry I bailed as soon as I heard someone coming down the hallway. I'm sorry that I let you get in trouble so that I wouldn't, even though I knew how hard your parents were going to be on you."
He can't really ready her expression and it makes him a little anxious. Not that he deserves for this to be easy.
He takes a step closer, and, in the back of his mind, he realizes that she must be wearing flats today. They're almost at the same eye-level right now.
"I'm sorry that I never apologized," he says, and then swallows, holding her gaze.
She blinks, straightening up a little, and he can see the contemplation in her eyes. She's staring at him like she used to stare at their textbook—like he's something she doesn't quite understand, but she's already in the verge of figuring it out, because she'll be damned if she doesn't.
He's not sure how long the silence stretches between them, but, finally, the corners of her lips tug upward into a bit of a smile, and that rushing sensation it back.
"I guess that's a start," she tells him, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She looks amused as she shakes her head at him. He's probably grinning like an idiot, but he doesn't really care, either.
He's not sure what to say next, but before he can try to figure it out, he hears his name coming from down the hallway, and both he and Hayden turn to see his dad walking up to them. His dad blinks in surprise at Hayden. Yeah, Liam may have ranted to Lydia about her, but he might've forgotten to mention to his parents that Hayden was in town.
"Hayden," his dad greets. Despite knowing that they were always at each other's throats, his parents have always liked Hayden – probably because they noticed a long time ago what her presence was doing to their son's participation in academics and extra-curricular activities.
"Hi, Mr. Dunbar," she says, shaking the hand he offers.
His dad glances between them, a smile on his face. "Look at that," he says. "Bet you two weren't expecting to be back together again."
"You have no idea," Liam mutters, and Hayden laughs. He knows he has it bad, because that stupid rushing sensation comes back at the sound of it.
"I was wondering where you disappeared to," he says to Liam, and then turns to Hayden as he adds, "but I guess he was keeping you company. I thought I recognized your sister's name on the paperwork, but I didn't really put two-and-two together." He sets a hand on Hayden's shoulder, squeezing in that strangely comforting way that parents always do. "You don't have to worry about her, alright? She's in good hands here. She'll be out and good as new in no time," he promises, and Hayden's smile seems genuine as she nods at this.
"Are you on your break now?" Liam asks.
His dad nods, lifting up the bag with their burgers and fries. "We can grab a seat at the cafeteria," he says. "Want to join us, Hayden? There's plenty of food."
Hayden looks at Liam, who shrugs his shoulder a little, though he kind of really wants her to agree. She shouldn't be waiting for her sister alone.
"Sure," she says after a moment. "Thank you, Mr. Dunbar."
His dad just smiles and nods, then gestures for them to follow him down the hallway. Liam sips some of his coke, and when he glances at Hayden in his peripheral, he can see that smile of hers still on her lips. She catches him looking and then wrinkles her nose at him, the corners of her lips still curved upward, and he grins as he thinks that, yeah.
This is definitely a start.