𝙴𝙿𝙾𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙻 ° liam dunbar

𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝙾𝚗𝚎

Kingston wasn't quite sure where he was going. All he knew was he wanted to get as far away from the vet's office, and everyone inside, as soon as possible. His head was spinning with the recollection of a memory he tried his hardest to push to the back of his mind.

The incident that caused his eyes to be the way they were.

No one really knew about it, with the exception of his father, seeing as he was the sheriff. Even his brother, whom he tells everything to, had no idea. Mainly because he didn't want the older boy to look at his differently.

As the sixteen year old lifted his head, he let out a soft sigh when he saw where he had ended up. He was so into his thoughts that he didn't realize when the pavement of the two streets had turned into the soft forest floor. Now, he was standing in front of the one place he never wanted to return to.

The smell of rotting wood could be smelt from here, and he could practically hear it creaking as the wind passed through the open window. The ceiling seemed to be caving in on itself, having multiple termite holes in it, along with the walls.

The old, wooden treehouse was as creepy as King remembered.

Taking a deep breath, the werewolf made his way to the old, creamy ladder, putting his hand on the rung just in front of him before glancing up into the darkness that was his childhood playhouse. Slowly and carefully, he climbed.

As he reached the top, moving the light piece of wood that acted as the hatch, all he could smell was mold and must, hitting him like a ton of bricks. He almost gagged on it as he pulled the lower half of his body into the treehouse.

His things were still there; all of them. The little toys he brought from home, and the strange collectibles he would find (and sometimes even steal). It was all right where he had left it, much to his surprise.

The teenager walked over to where the small "porch" used to be, the railing knocked down-most likely due to one of Beacon Hills' many storms. Kingston just sat down, dangling his feet over the edge as he stared out at the forest around him. Unlike when he was a child, he could now hear everything.

Not just the chirping of birds or bustling leaves that everyone could, but also the sound of the creek that was about two minutes to his right, or the tiny nails of a squirrel as they scratched against the trees. He could finally appreciate nature for everything it had, and could bask in the peaceful sounds.

One of those sounds, however, would not be the sound of sneakers crunching the dry, fallen leaves.

Knowing who it was, the Stilinski boy didn't even turn around when he heard the visitor climbing up the ladder and entering the abandoned treehouse. The footsteps neared him, slow and cautious. His racing heart causing a small smirk to come to King's face.

"It's not going to collapse under your shoes," He joked, not bothering to look back at the younger boy.

"And how do you know that, huh?" Was Liam's retort. "This place is leaning like the Eiffel Tower."

"Tower of Pisa."

"What?"

At this, the brunette finally turned around, giving the fifteen year old a small smirk, but also a confused glance. "The leaning landmark." He said, just getting a small head tilt from the blonde. King just shook his head and faces the forest again. "Never mind."

Silence once again fell over the two as Liam made his way over and lowered himself, very carefully, onto the floor beside the other werewolf. Neither of them spoke, not quite knowing how to bring up the subject. But Kingston knew the question that was burning at the back of the blonde's throat.

"His name was Oliver." The Stilinski said suddenly.

He could see the younger boy turn his head to face him, but the brunette kept his eyes away from him, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Who?"

"The boy who...." The words got cut off and left Kingston gapping like a fish, his mouth opening and closing slightly, trying to find the right words. "The boy who died."

Liam didn't need any more context, seeing as the conversation they had with the druid not even twenty minutes ago. "What happened?" If he had been human, the sixteen year old wouldn't have heard the words, but he did.

A mix of emotions fluttered in the boy's stomach. One one hand, he wanted to tell Liam what had happened, just to get it all off of his chest. To finally tell someone about the incident that still occasionally plagued his nightmares and absentminded thoughts.

But on the other, he didn't want to be judged by the boy. To be feared by the one person, beside Stiles, he could completely open up to. He didn't want to lose Liam. Period.

"It was about..five years ago." Kingston spoke up, his green eyes still locked on the surrounding trees, though he could feel the beta beside him looking intently at the side of his head. "Oliver was...my best friend. I was closer to him even then I was to Stiles, believe it or not.

"We'd always come up here to play, to just hang out and share stories." The boy continued. "Everywhere he went, I did too and vise-versa." He sucked in a deep breath before he let it out in a shaky sigh. "When I was younger, I had anger issues. I had I.E.D."

"That's why Stiles knew what it was." Liam said, now realizing how the spastic boy knew of his diagnosis.

King nodded slowly before continuing. "So, one day, I got mad. About what, I don't really remember; I try to keep the whole incident in the back of my mind. But, anyways, I got angry and I...I shoved him. And he fell right through the railing."

The blonde boy's eyes widened at the thought of little, eleven year old Kingston shoving another boy, only for the boy to go toppling to the ground. The thought alone made him shiver.

"He didn't die, but he landed on a nerve in his back." The brunette gulped down the lump that formed in his throat. "He got paralyzed from the waist down."

"Oh my god." The freshman whispered without meaning to, only earning a nod in response.

"I felt terrible. I really did. I still do." He let out a shaky breath. "But then...my dad got a call the next morning before he even got out of bed." There was a short pause. "Olivier had killed himself."

"Wha-" Liam's eyes widened as he stuttered over his words. "Why?"

The older boy shrugged. "He couldn't live the rest of his life in a wheelchair, I suppose. But that's the reason." He told Liam, finally looking the younger boy in his eyes, which were filled with remorse. "That's why my eyes are marbled. Because of him."

Seeing the look in his eyes, the blonde reached over and took the sophomore's hand in his. "You didn't kill him, King. He chose his path."

"And I just guided him to it." The Stilinski boy's eyes welled with tears as his voice dropped down to almost a whisper. "I'm a killer. And I'll understand if you hate me for that."

Not knowing what to say, Liam sucked in a breath before leaning forwards and pressing his lips to the brunette's. He could practically feel the tension in the older boy's body release as he let out a sigh into the kiss, moving his hand to the back of the freshman's head. They could both hear the other's heart beating rapidly, but neither paid much attention to it.

Not long after, the fifteen year old was pulling back, his blues eyes locking instantly onto the other beta's. "I could never hate you, Kingston Stilinski."

A light, breathy chuckle left his lips as the older boy smiled. "That, Liam Dunbar, might just be the dumbest thing you've ever said."