Fated [BlueAmbient & crypticpieces]

Brennan looks distressed when Liam moves away from him, though he tries to hide it. He can't hide the forward step he takes. He can tell Liam is lying, that he's not okay. He can hear it in the hesitation of Liam's voice.

I don't want to have this conversation with you. That felt like a stab in the chest. Brennan wants so badly for Liam to trust him, and he  knows that want stems from Liam being his mate. But he can't force it. "Liam, we're not that different, you know." Brennan watches Liam, then sighs quietly. "I know you don't want to be here. I know youknow't want to see that we're not dangerous. But I have to try."
 
The words rattled around in his head: we’re not that different. They felt worlds different. Liam took a step, like he might start heading for town, but Brennan’s whole scheme to save his pack depended on giving the hunters a reason not to attack. “Ask your desk if you’re dangerous.” The dark-haired hunter turned abruptly, stomped up the steps of the porch, and into the house. If he had been calm, the tension had crept back in, but he marched up the steps, down the hall, and into Brennan’s room, where he kicked the door shut.

He paced the length of the room, back and forth, the frustration of the position he found himself in finally bubbling over. If Brennan had the audacity to follow him, Liam would find the closet book from the bookcase to chuck at him, which he’d continue to do until he ran out of books. If not, he’d go on pacing until he wore himself out. Wolves were dangerous. They just were, and that he had latched onto Brennan because he was the closest thing to safety in that moment was horrifying and an act of desperation.
 
Brennan half follows Liam, but stops at the bottom of the stairs when he hears the bedroom door slam. He sits on the stairs with a groan, dropping his head into his hands. Everyone had heard the door slam, and conversation had fallen quiet. A moment later, it picks up again, and Eli comes out of the kitchen, sitting beside Brennan.

"I don't know what I'm going to do, Eli. We can't keep running, but I don't know how to convince the hunters that we're not a danger to them. And on top of it all, I my mate is a human and a hunter." The tension is back in Brennan's shoulders, brought on by the stress of trying to figure out everything.

"If anyone can come up with a solution, Brennan, it's you. Sam and I have your back, and you know the pack stands with you." Eli rubs Brennan's back to comfort him, offering a small smile. Then someone in the kitchen calls his name, and he leaves Brennnan alone on the stairs.

When Brennan finally gets off the stairs, the pack has divided between parents putting young children to bed, older children and young adults heading down to the basement, and the older adults moving to the living room to read or watch TV. The sun has been set for an hour. Brennan climbs the stairs to his bedroom, opening the door slowly and quietly to see if Liam is still awake.
 
By the time the door opened, Liam had sat on the floor at the foot of the bed, intent on watching said door not moving for a long while. When it did, his head was on his knees and the quiet sound made him jerk his head up. If it had been anyone else come to tell him how to think or feel about the situation, he would have done everything in his power, which wasn’t a lot given the situation, to make whomever it was regret their bright idea.

The potential hostility from Liam faded at the sight of Brennan, and he exhaled and one leg slid out in front of him. “Thank you,” he offered quietly, “for what you did at dinner.” His gaze shifted sideways and he set his teeth down on his lower lip, considering. “I don’t know if I should say that. I think you do what you do because of what you think I am to you and desperation to save your pack.” Liam chewed at his lip, uncomfortable. The perspective wasn’t intended to be a barb; he wasn’t angling for another fight that he couldn’t win.
 
Brennan sees Liam at the foot of the bed and steps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. He sighs quietly as he listens, another stab of pain in his chest. What he thinks Liam is to him... There's no way to convince the shorter man. Brennan even lifts one hand to rub at his chest, as though feeling a physical pain. But he approaches, crouching down three feet in front of Liam. "Liam, you being my mate, and me needing to protect my pack, has nothing to do with helping you through a panic attack. I couldn't just sit there and let you deal with that alone. I'd have done more, but I felt you would not appreciate having more attention on you."

Brennan lowers his head, clasping his hands behind his neck. He's silent for a moment, eyes closed. His fingers are twitching, aching to reach out to Liam. "You should get some sleep. I.. I'll keep my distance, don't worry." Brennan stands again, then steps backward until his back hits the door. There, he slides down to sit, knees pulling half up. His elbows rest on them, hands still clasped behind his neck.
 
That the help and the other two pressing issues had nothing to do with each other got Liam to wrinkle his nose, but he didn’t argue. It was just a difficult idea to accept, and Brennan hadn’t been wrong in assuming Liam wouldn’t have appreciated added attention. His attention finally slid back onto the wolf, and his brow furrowed. Even though he sat still for a short while longer, eventually the hunter pulled himself up. Of course, he wasn’t going to listen to Brennan, that would have been easy.

Instead, Liam got closer to him and held a hand out. “Come to bed with me.” That felt dangerously ambiguous. “To sleep,” he amended quickly. “I’m not propositioning you.” A pinkish tint spread over the bridge of his nose, which he was ignoring. “Come on. You’ve spent one night on the floor already and have to be tired, and from having recently sat there for a while, it sucks. I’m not going to feel bad because you’re spending a week on the floor. Or we can trade,” a smirk started at the suggestion, “although I don’t think you’d like that; you couldn’t keep track of where I’m at.”
 
Brennan lifts his head when he hears Liam approach, surprised to see the young man holding out his hand. His eyes lift to Liam's face, listening, seeing that pink blush appear. Cute. Yeah, the floors not comfortable, but if it means Liam can be, he will stay there. But Liam is choosing to invite him up.

Then Liam mentions trading, and Brennan scowls. He's right, Brennan can't keep track of him if Liam is on the floor. Brennan takes Liam's hand, his skin comfortably warm to the boy's touch. He mostly stands himself, even if Liam's intention was to pull him up. "Thank you."

Brennan keeps a light grip on Liam's hand as he leads him to the bed, only releasing when they're at the bedside. He gives Liam a moment to get comfortable, then settles down himself. Brennan keeps a respectful foot and a half between them, though his inner wolf whines and his fingers itch to roll over and pull Liam in to his chest. "Tomorrow, Sam is running a wolf combat drill with the older teens. Do you want to come watch?"
 
Liam shrugged at the thanks because the small show of kindness cost him nothing except the extra space to roll around on the mattress. There was still so much he refused to do that could matter to Brennan. Liam wasn’t opposed to getting out of his boots and jeans so that he could crawl onto the bed and drop face first onto a pillow comfortably, like he wasn’t planning on bolting the moment he had the chance. The previous night hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park and the day had been arguably just as bad. Add the situation at dinner on top of it all and he was more than just tired and any grand escape plans could be deferred a day.

While his eyes remain closed, an eyebrow lifts at the question. Liam forced himself to turn his head and peer at Brennan through half-closed eyes. He certainly wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep, but the position beat the cramped and stiff position he’d had on the floor. He hesitated, considering. “Outside?” He couldn’t imagine it wouldn’t be outside, which meant he didn’t wait before answering: “Yes.” Reluctantly he dragged a hand up to move strands of his hair from his eyes. “As long as I can sleep in, just a little,” he amended before his eyes closed.
 
Brennan folds his hands on his chest, turning his head to meet Liam's eyes. There's a small smile on his face. Liam had sure answered quickly. Then realization dawns on Brennan, and he fights to keep a scowl off his face. He will have to make sure he's watching Liam very closely. "You can sleep in, the drills won't start until mid morning."

At some point in the night, Brennan had rolled over and slid his arms around Liam in his sleep. Now, come morning, they lay facing each other, Liam wrapped in Brennan's arms with his head tucked below Brennan's chin. One of Brennan's legs is draped over Liam's thighs.
 
Liam wasn’t someone who often turned into a little ball in the night. He took up space, which would have been precarious for anyone he was in bed with. Had he a consistent history of sleeping with other people, Liam might have mentioned it or warned Brennan but, truthfully, Liam didn’t realize that was how he slept. Anything and anyone in bed with him was fair game to latch onto or lay on.

In the night, he had gotten his fingers up into Brennan’s hair, bullied one knee between Brennan’s legs, and pressed as close up against the wolf as he could to leach the heat from him. Consciousness came slowly: the loose grip he held twitched and his eyes opened to see, but not register, how close he was. Then it struck all at once, and he was aware of how Brennan smelled and the feel of his hair, but for a full minute he couldn’t work beyond how he was supposed to disentangle himself from the werewolf without waking him up. They hadn’t even been touching last time and Brennan knew that Liam had moved. As slowly as he could manage, Liam shifted to get up on his elbow to see whether Brennan had or hadn’t woken up while he quietly tried to untangle them from one another.
 
Brennan's subconscious registers immediately when Liam tries to disentangle them from each other's arms. At first, his arms tighten, drawing Liam back down close to his chest. Then he starts to wake, a small groan rumbling in his chest. His sense of smell registers next, nose filled with Liam's scent. And when his eyes open, they're that burning gold color.

He blinks, staring, as his waking mind comes to the realization that his mate is in his arms. And likely trying to push him away. As much as his inner wolf is complaining, Brennan opens his arms and rolls onto his back, releasing Liam and freeing his leg. "Sorry.." Brennan's voice has that rough growl of just waking from sleep again.
 
By the time Brennan’s eyes opened, Liam was staring at him with some kind of frozen panic that he had woken the man up. Reflexively he made a short little sound of complaint in his throat, unexpectedly drawn back down, but it didn’t last. Soon enough, Brennan had let him go. “Yeah,” he agreed, as though he were also sorry for whatever that was. There was no way Liam was going to wallow around in cuddling with a werewolf and how that had been.

Instead, he made the executive decision to traverse over Brennan, straddling him for just long enough to peer down with a funny little quirk of his lips before he moved. “Still better than the floor, I bet. And I didn’t escape. Amazing.” His borrowed clothes were on that side, so he had cause for temporarily reestablishing contact, and it was practical. It had nothing to do with Liam forgetting, just for a few seconds, that he didn’t get to like Brennan. “Did you really sleep?” he asked as he tugged on jeans and ruffled his hair to try to get it to act somewhat respectable.
 
Having Liam crawl over him, pause straddling him, made Brennan's eyes burn brighter. His hands lift as though to grab onto Liam's thighs, but stops himself at the last second. Instead, his hands rub at his face as Liam moves of him, and he instantly lifts one knee up to subtly move the sheets upward. That very brief pause and image of Liam straddling him had created an instant reaction.

He lays there a moment, willing his body to calm down before he answers. "Yeah, I slept. And yeah, it was better than the floor." Brennan clears his throat and finally sits up, pushing the sheets aside. He looks Liam over, noting that the clothing is still a touch on the big side, but far better fitting than his own clothes. Brennan stands, moving to the dresser and pulling out fresh sweats and a plain pale blue tee. He changes in front of Liam, that lack of modesty showing in the way he doesn't hide anything.
 
The confirmation that Brennan did sleep made Liam hum in some sort of pleased acknowledgement as he squinted out the window at the weather, which looked just the same as it had yesterday. “Even so, we should still get coffee,” he decided. When he turned back, he twitched at the realization that the wolf was unashamedly changing in front of him. Again. Liam found a corner of the ceiling to stare at.

“Although…” It was only when he trailed off that he settled his attention on Brennan again. They woke up later, which meant more of the house would be awake. He shook his head almost imperceptibly. No, it would be fine. He had a reasonable grasp of what he could walk into and it would be fine. “And something to eat.” Yesterday’s roller coaster of emotion had disrupted his fond relationship with food.
 
Brennan doesn't miss Liam's hesitation as he pulls the shirt over his head. He gives a comforting smile, walking up to Liam. His large hands rest on the shorter man's shoulders. "I know the crowded kitchen scares you, but I'll be right there with you. I can block others from getting close to you, if that will help."

Brennan definitely wants coffee and food, but he also wants Liam to be comfortable. So if needed, he would forego both. "Let's make a signal. If it gets too much, you can give a signal, and we can leave." Brennan pauses, thinking. "How about touching my wrist again?"
 
Liam nodded slowly at the suggestion, agreeing only because it was better to have a plan than the chaos of yesterday. Despite that, he erased traces of worry from his face. “It’s going to be fine.” He moved out of reach and toward the door, turning back to shrug and say “Yesterday was a surprise.” Although he grasped the doorknob, he had turned enough to lean his back against it.

“But I want you to think about why it happened before you ask me to help you with the hunters today and get into another fight with me because I know you’re going to.” He didn’t want to have a conversation about it just then, which was half the reason he could flash a quick smile. What he wanted was breakfast with coffee, so Liam moved enough to pull the door open and duck out. “If you’re going to be my guard, keep up, this mood doesn’t last long without food and caffeine.” Even though it seemed as though he'd rush off, he slowed in the hall, long enough to wait for Brennan because the wolf was the only thing between the hunter and bad reaction to being surrounded without defenses.
 
Brennan bites the inside of his cheek when Liam drops that shield over his emotions again. Trying to get this guy to open up is like trying to get a teething toy from a baby werewolf, pretty impossible. Brennan resists the urge to sigh, following Liam into the hall.

"I know taking you into a crowded room full of werewolves probably wasn't the smartest thing to do, and I apologize for that. I just thought if you could see a normal family dinner, it might sway your opinion." Brennan is fully aware Liam doesnt want to talk about it, but it needs to be talked about. Brennan is on a time crunch to save his Pack's new home.

When they arrive in the kitchen, it's almost worse. Instead of everyone being seated, there's kids running around at random, adults standing and sitting, making the room somehow seem even more crowded. There's covered pans and trays of breakfast items, ranging from toast, eggs, and pancakes, to hashbrowns, bacon, and sausages. Jars of jams, syrups, and other condiments are scattered on the counters. Large coffee carafes have been pulled out, the kind one might find at community events. A bag of sugar and four different kinds of creamers sit around the carafes.
 
“It’s not the crowd. Not really,” he admitted as they descended the stairs, but Liam didn’t elaborate further. He could hear the sounds of the kitchen and the madness inside is, indeed, worse than dinner. Liam’s pulse jumped and for a fraction of a second, he paused in the doorway, but he said it would be fine. He was going to force it to be that way. Getting a cup and pouring coffee took all of his scattered attention. He twitched if a kid shrieked or someone laughed.

The urge to eat had once again evaporated. He couldn’t process beyond the immediate of hyper-vigilance and moving through the steps of dropping toast onto a plate while not spilling the coffee. Some miracle got him through putting strawberry jam on toast, but he struggled to drop the butter knife. Liam glanced once at Brennan before he stole a fork. He certainly didn’t need it to eat; that wasn’t what it was for.

Jittery and hopped up on adrenaline though he was, Liam found an empty seat and dropped into it, the utensil-turned-weapon set in his lap under the table where he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of it. Mindlessly he searched for Brennan again as he bit down on the inside of his cheek to the point of distraction.
 
Brennan, as focused as he is on Liam, doesn't miss anything. Not the hesitation, the twitching, or the struggle to get coffee and toast. Not the sudden grab and hide of the fork. And definitely not the way Liam's heartbeat is pounding away. Throughout it all, Brennan keeps his body between Liam and everyone else, moving his arms to block anyone who reaches for something a little too close, while making it seem like he's reaching for the same thing. Nobody comments on it.

When Liam makes for an empty seat, Brennan delays a bit, loading his own plate with a variety, and grabbing his own mug of black coffee. He's about to join Liam when a teenager blocks him, excitedly asking if Brennan would be joining their drills later. Brennan smiles at the enthusiasm and gives an answer that has the boy looking disappointed,but he leaves it at that.

When Brennan sits down he scoots his chair close to Liam, leaning over to brush his lips against the shorter man's ear. "Please don't stab my family with a fork, Liam. Forks don't make good weapons." When Brennan straightens, he sets his left hand on Liam's thigh, much like he'd done last night. He doesn't even try to take the fork, the touch is just a comforting weight. A gentle reminder that Brennan is right there.
 
The warm air against his ear makes his heart stutter out of sync, as though it weren’t already struggling. The words themselves made him look over with a vaguely annoyed expression he didn’t have the mental space to conceal. “Well, you took what I had,” he pointed out quietly. “Unless you want to give it back, this’ll have to do.” His gun was probably rusting, buried in a hole somewhere, not that now was a good time to sulk about it.

For a short time, Liam let Brennan keep the touch to his leg. It did serve to settle him somewhat, which bothered Liam endlessly. After studying the toast in front of him, Liam dropped his free hand down over Brennan’s. He didn’t press hard, but it was enough to increase the pressure on his leg, and that, unfortunately, felt better. It felt more secure, better grounded. In a worst case scenario, it would keep him from jumping up to try to jab a fork into someone.

Liam was torn enough about keeping Brennan’s hand down and holding onto the fork that he just sat for a while. When he reached for the toast, he opted to let the fork go so that it could just sit in his lap instead of sacrificing the physical contact. If Brennan was worried, he could have taken the fork whether Liam was willing to give it up or not—he adamantly hated that. All of it, but if he had space to hate it, then he was doing mostly fine.
 
Brennan chuckles at Liam's retort, a small grin on his lips. His fingers gently squeeze Liam's thigh when the man covers Brennan's hand with his own. Brennan had picked up conversation with a blond, bearded man about grocery needs. "Jerry, I know things are needing restocking, but I can't risk anyone going into town. With the current situation, everyone is safest on the property. It's only five more days, we'll make do with what we have. We've had less." The bearded man, Jerry, scowls, but drops the conversation. Instead, he starts mumbling to himself about meal ideas. Brennan had previously mentioned his name before. Jerry is the main Pack cook, though everyone chips in to help.

Brennan had noticed Liam staring at his toast, and had been about to remind the man to eat. But then Liam leaves the fork in his lap and finally picks up the toast. Brennan gives him a comforting smile, and his thumb idly rubs back and forth on Liam's thigh. Brennan finds himself watching Liam as they both eat. If any Pack members notice Brennan's focused attention, none of them say anything. Word had spread quickly, after all, and they all feel bad for Brennan's situation.
 
Liam ate slowly. He had found himself staring determinedly at Jerry if only because he was thinking about the food situation. If he had been a better person, he might have offered some help, but he was barely coping when most, if not all, of the pack was crammed into one room. It was only five more days. Then Brennan was supposed to give him back. Then it’d be back to business as usual, whatever that meant. Liam stopped eating, having made it halfway through a piece of toast before putting it down.

He drank his coffee, jumped when two little kids came racing around the table, set the fork on the table, and got up almost immediately afterward. From behind Brennan, Liam leaned down over him, arms draping down to clasp in front, the gesture almost affectionate when he spoke softly against the wolf’s ear. “I’m going outside. You can come or stay and eat. I promise I won’t leave. Just this once.” He doubted Brennan would trust him enough, but outside had been better before. Liam straightened to clean up his plate, cup, and unused fork. The uneaten toast he took with him, partially out of some warped sense of guilt and partially because some part of him did still want it.
 
When Liam stands, Brennan's ever more focused on him. Tension blooms through his shoulders, but it's different this time. There's concern on his expression. Several pairs of eyes land on Liam when the man drapes his arms around Brennan, whose hand comes up to touch Liam's arms. His eyes flutter, and he shudders, as Liam speaks into his ear. Even such innocent words illicit a reaction from Brennan's inner wolf.

As Liam walks away, Brennan gulps down his coffee, then abandons his half eaten breakfast. Liam is more important, and someone else would finish off what he'd left. Food never goes to waste here. Brennan walks out the front door just moments after Liam. He moves close, one hand resting at Liam's lower back. "Please talk to me, Liam."
 
By the time Brennan has a hand at Liam’s back, the hunter has toast in his mouth. He stopped his forward motion and crunched slowly down on the food he’d taken with him. After a few seconds of chewing, he asked, “About?” Liam moved far enough to sit down on the top step of the porch, stretching his legs out and looking out in front of him, the toast held in his lap. “You could have kept eating,” he added. “I was going to still be sitting here. You could have saved that question for then.”

Liam peered over at Brennan. He pulled a corner of the toast and jam away to stick in his mouth. “I told you it’d be fine.” Being in the kitchen had been better, but it hadn’t been easy or fine. The recovery seemed better too: his heart rate had begun to meander downward and, at least, he could pretend he wasn’t bothered now that he wasn’t in the mess of werewolves.
 
Brennan sighs, tension creeping through his shoulders; that seems to be where he holds all his tension. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, closing his eyes, and looks both frustrated and anxious. "Don't treat me like I'm stupid, Liam. I could hear your heartbeat the entire time, and you barely made it ten minutes."

Brennan lets Liam have his space on the steps, sitting down with his back to the wall of the house. He's just far enough over from the front door as to avoid getting it in the face if anyone were to come out a bit too quickly. "I want to help you be more comfortable. Is it the crowd? Or just because we're werewolves? What can I do to help you? And please don't say let you go. I don't want to have that fight again.."
 
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