Mason sits in one of the lowers rows of the bleachers. Sydney, an upperclassman, sits beside him. I smile when I notice she has a sign to support Liam and proudly waves it in the air as the match begins around us. I also notice an empty space beside them and find myself gravitating toward it.

"Seat taken?" I ask when I reach the pair.

"All yours," Mason says.

My attention isn't on the match as I sit next to him. Not only because it becomes abundantly clear that we're destined to lose without Scott and Kira, Devenford taking the lead within minutes, but because Mason's eyes are focused on me, observing me closely.

"Thank you for your help the other night, by the way," I say to him in a hushed tone. It was frustrating not being able to tell Mason how much he had done for us. Without him turning off the music, we would have all been dead.

"Right. Turning off the music for some mysterious purpose that I still don't know the reason for," Mason laughs wryly, taking me aback.

"Mason, I told you-"

"Yeah, it's not your place, it's Liam's, right?" he cuts me off.

Mason shakes his head, obviously aggravated by the secrets that were piling up between him and Liam.

"Ever since you and your friends came into the picture, he hasn't been the same. I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing yet," Mason confesses.

I can't help but agree with his claims.

If I had the chance to go back to the night Liam was bit, I wouldn't have left the hospital. My presence there would have changed things and prevented Scott from making a life-altering decision for Liam. It wouldn't have hurt then either, letting Liam go. We didn't know each other enough for me to be upset at having to forget about him.

All of the pain, loss, and secrecy that came with knowing the truth of our world wasn't something I would wish on a person I truly cared for.

"You told me the other night that you wouldn't let anyone hurt him," Mason says.

"I won't," I reply instantly.

"I hope so," Mason says strongly. "Because he's my best friend, and he deserves someone that cares about him and knows how good of a person he is."

I avert my eyes from Mason's, feeling exposed. His words imply affection between Liam and I. His picking up on that meant I had been entirely too obvious about my attachment to Liam, and now feared that there were others who had noticed, too.

"I don't care about whatever secrets you and your friends have, whether you're all in a cult or some underground fight club, it doesn't matter to me," Mason admits. He waits until I meet his gaze once more before continuing.

"The only thing I do care about is my best friend being with someone who keeps him safe and knows what he deserves. If you're going to be in his life, I need your word that's you."

There's an intense amount of desperation in Mason's eyes that I empathize with.

When I first came to Beacon Hills and discovered Allison and Scott were secretly dating, I was horrified. At the time, I was convinced it would end with both of them dead, and couldn't imagine my best friend dying for something as fleeting as love. Her life wasn't worth the risk, and I had told her of such.

That was until I grew to care for Scott, too.

Despite them never getting back together, I had given Scott my unyielding approval. I never thought Allison would die anyway before they had the chance to reconcile. It was one of my biggest regrets that I never helped them return to each other. If I had a chance to change it, I would, but I couldn't.

I had a chance to save Mason from living with such pain.

"You have my word, Mason," I vow for Liam, and for him.

He lets out a heavy and relieved breath at my words. He seems like he wants to say more but an irritated voice barks over the noise of the match and the crowd to interrupt him.

"Knight, front and center!" Coach demands.

I turn at my name, finding him glaring at me from the player benches. I give him a puzzled look as to why he's asking for me and he simply mirrors my expression mockingly. I don't get up right away, hesitant to leave Mason as we were in the middle of such a significant conversation.

"It's okay," Mason says, letting me off easy.

I offer a thankful nod in exchange before doing as Coach commanded.

Coach taps his foot impatiently as he waits for me to join his side, his arms crossed over his puffed-out chest. I raise my eyebrows when I reach him, an unspoken question as to what brought on his slightly annoying actions.

"I see dumb." He points to Stiles as he runs on the field, tripping over his own two feet. "But I don't see dumber. Where is he?"

I sigh at Coach's affectionate nickname for Scott.

"Coach, don't worry, everything's going to be fine," I say, attempting to soothe him in the same way Stiles had me. It's a useless effort.

"I should have gone to rehab," Coach mutters begrudgingly before stomping off.

He leaves me standing alone at the edge of the field. I look out at the match, seeing Devenford score yet another point, pushing our team further behind. Adding insult to injury, Stiles face-plants into the grass. I force myself to turn away when everyone passes him, completely unbothered. I didn't need to add secondhand embarrassment to my problems.

The game continues on, reaching almost an hour.

I stand near the bleachers, wanting to keep an eye on the parking lot. Kira and Scott had yet to show up, and I was desperate for any signs of them. I had been calling them over and over again this entire time but each one went to voicemail. To make things worse, morale on the field was at an all-time low, too. Beacon had yet to score against Devenford. Everyone who came to root for our school had fallen silent and shoved their posters under their seats, wanting to preserve a bit of their dignity.

Everything was far from fine.

My attention drifts to Stiles and his father as they come toward me, leaving the game.

"Where are you guys going?" I ask curiously.

"To the loft. We're gonna check on them," Stilinski answers.

"Okay, I'm coming, too," I say, backing up in the direction of the parking lot.

Stiles grabs my arm, keeping me in place.

"No, stay here. Malia needs help watching Liam. We can't have him freaking out with the full moon this close," he says.

"Stiles-" I begin but he shakes his head.

"For once, don't fight me, okay?" Reluctantly, I agree.

When Stiles understands he won't get any arguments, he lets me go. He and Stilinski leave, rushing toward their respective cars. I stand there, watching them drive off, listening as the crowd erupts to cheer Devenford on as they score yet another goal.

After a while, footsteps sound in the grass behind me. Peter soon reveals himself, smirking.

"Jacqueline Knight, it's good to see you alive and well," he says in his usual snide tone, under the constant assumption he was better than everyone else.

My eyes remain on the field, resistant to his presence.

"Peter," I greet him stiffly.

He watches the game too, his hands placed behind his back. It feels like an effort to feign nonchalance.

"I've actually been meaning to see you," he says sweetly. "I wanted to give my well-wishes toward your recovery. It's not every day someone survives an encounter with a Berserker, especially a human."

I contain my reaction to his words. Anyone with a half-decent brain cell knew not to trust Peter or believe anything he said, as he always had ulterior motives. I gave him credit for his willingness to protect his family, but that was as far as I'd go in kindness for him.

We weren't friends. We weren't even allies. The only times we ever fought together were because of survival, not respect.

"Yeah, guess I'm lucky," I smile falsely.

Peter mirrors it, both of us aware that our actions lack any actual gratitude.

"Apparently," he agrees. "Quite a miracle, if you ask me."

There's an unspoken question in his voice that unsettles me. He only adds to my discomfort as his eyes trace me up and down with a scrutinizing gaze. It feels like thorns piercing my skin.

I face Peter fully, clenching my jaw in an attempt to contain my growing aggression.

"What do you want?" I ask bluntly.

"How exactly were you able to survive?" he asks, his smile not faltering.

I wasn't fond of Peter's curiosity. I had assumed everyone knew about Scott's decision to share the toll of my wound, but apparently not, and I now believe it was best to keep it that way.

"Why does that matter to you?" I retort.

"It doesn't." Peter shrugs, and I find his response far too quick.

"But it may matter to someone else, and I'm sure you don't want the unnecessary attention. Like I said, it was quite a miracle," he adds. There's no obvious threat in his words, but something about them that feels sinister.

I take a step closer to the older Hale, openly leering at him. He doesn't back down, as he isn't intimidated easily. Then again, neither am I.

"All you or anyone else needs to know is that I'm not easy to kill," I whisper. Peter's smirk only grows from there.

He finally takes a step away from me, but his expression remains playful.

"You stay safe, little hunter," he says dismissively.

I watch as he walks off, heading toward Malia. He takes the seat beside her on the bleachers, making me stiffen. I didn't like the thought of him talking to her, but I also knew we had already interfered with their father-daughter relationship too much already. It wasn't my place to pull him away. All I could do now was hope Malia could handle herself if he tried anything.

"Liam, for the love of God, move!"

Coach's rageful screams make me turn back to the field.

Liam stands in the middle of the match. A cluster of Devenford players charges in his direction as he's all that stands between them and the goal. Everyone cheers for him to take action and make a game-saving play, but he remains frozen and allows the players to pass him, adding to their score.

Coach practically growls as he throws his clipboard to the ground, his tantrum worsening.

Things reset on the field for the next play, and everyone moves when the referee blows their whistle. Someone from Devenford scoops up the ball first, but a few of our players work together to send it flying out of their net. Voices cry out happily as Liam rushes forward and picks up the ball. He charges toward the goal and uses his skill to narrowly dodge multiple opposing players that attempt to bring him down.

"Yes, Liam!" I cheer him on and his eyes leave the goal to find mine. I smile widely as he does so but it's immediately wiped away as Brett comes forward and uses an unnecessary amount of force to push at Liam's chest, sending him flying to the ground.

A few people gasp at the impact, unaware that Liam wouldn't actually be injured by the hit.

He rips off his helmet as he lays on the ground, glaring up at Brett. The two of them exchange heated words as the referee stomps onto the field, reprimanding Brett for his actions. I can't hear any of what they say, but by the way Brett saunters away and Liam clenches his jaw, I can tell things weren't settled between them.

Coach calls for a timeout, all of our players huddling around him.

Uncontrollable anger builds up inside of me as I observe Brett. He's talking to his teammates, all of them laughing and goofing off as Beacon Hills scrambles to repair themselves. I don't give a damn about the match, but I did care about Liam, and Brett knew that. I had confided in him and he worked to help me, yet, he still treated Liam harshly. It almost felt like a betrayal.

I march across the field to Devenford's benches and go straight for Brett. I clutch the collar of his jersey and move to drag him away. His teammates can't do anything but watch, too confused to even try and stop me. When we're out of earshot of other people, I force him in front of me while continuing to clutch his jersey, keeping him in place.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snap.

Brett brushes my hands off of him boredly, almost unsurprised by my actions.

"Making him angry," he says. "You can't smell but he's scared out of his mind on the field. That fear is gonna make him lose control or die on the spot from a stroke."

I still at the mention of Liam's fear, my rage dissipating. I hadn't seen any indication of his terror, but as Brett said, it wasn't something I could pick up on as a human. My lack of communication with Liam as of late also unfortunately added to why I was lost on his current state of mind.

"You guys helped me, now I'm helping him and you," Brett finishes. He smirks at my sheepish expression, as I do end up feeling guilty for how I tossed him around like a ragdoll.

"I accept your apology," he teases.

I squint at him, my residual aggravation spiking at his righteous attitude. I was grateful for having someone else looking out for Liam, but that didn't mean I praised the tactics he used. Brett notices the shift in my emotions again and his smirk dies down.

"Do that to him again, and I'll make you wish those assassins were still around," I whisper without hesitation.

Brett swallows thickly, forcing himself to nod along. He knows it's not an empty threat.

"Thank you for your help," I add before stepping away from him.

Across the field, I notice Liam watching me. When our eyes meet, he offers a delicate smile, his way of telling me he heard everything. I return the gesture, unable to say what I really want to, which is that he had nothing to fear as long as I was with him. I would safeguard him from everything that wished to bring him harm, until my arrow returned.

---

It wasn't a surprise to anyone when we lost the match.

The only person that was truly heartbroken over it was Coach. He practically fell to his knees at the end, cursing the existence of whatever higher power was above him. Everyone knew it was best to leave him be, and slowly the campus emptied as Beacon Hills High tried to recover from its defeat. I didn't care much about the game, I only cared about a particular player.

I walked through the unlit halls of the school, heading toward the boy's locker room. Voices carry out into the hall from inside, the door propped open.

"Do you know how lucky you are?" I hear Brett say.

"What do you mean?" Liam replies with confusion.

I listen to them converse, ready to interject if Brett tried anything troublesome again.

"Scott's a True Alpha. That means he didn't get his power because he was born with it. He didn't get it by stealing or killing someone. He earned it," Brett explains, respect laced in his tone.

"You're not strong just because you can lift a lot of weight now. You're strong because you endure. Satomi calls it strength of character. You're lucky to have him. You're lucky to have all of them."

Neither werewolf speaks after that, and approaching footsteps clue me into Brett's exit. When he steps through the doorway, he isn't shocked to see me. He simply grins to himself as he walks past me with his duffel bag thrown casually over his shoulder.

"Good luck," he says before disappearing down the hall.

I take a deep breath to steady myself as I enter the locker room. Liam sits inside on one of the benches, all of the lights shut off around him. He stares down at his hands until he hears me enter. He looks up at me but his eyes pass my form, checking to see if I'm with another person. When he realizes we're alone, he refocuses on me.

"Any news on Scott and Kira?" he asks.

I shake my head as I walk closer to him, fiddling with my hands.

"No, and I didn't come here to talk about them," I admit.

He watches me curiously as I straddle the bench. He moves to mirror my position, both of us having our legs on either side of the plank. He waits patiently for me to speak, but there's nothing but silence between us.

"Are you going to talk at all?" he asks teasingly.

"I need a minute, okay?" I counter seriously.

"Okay," he agrees softly, biting back his amused grin.

My mind begins to race as I weigh the options of what I wanted with what was required of me. I made a promise to Scott and it was my obligation to follow it... but Scott wasn't here.

"That night at the hospital, after what happened with the Berserker, all I could think about was the things I didn't do. All I could feel was regret," I begin.

Liam seems uneased by me speaking of those events. I'm not bothered, though. Not in the way I should be. It doesn't affect me, because what I remember most about that moment wasn't death or suffering, it was the image of him above me and the tears that fell from his eyes as he begged me to stay. Even on the brink of tragedy, I had thought he was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I still do.

"Now I have a chance to do better, but I feel like I'm wasting it because I'm doing exactly what I did before, and I don't want to keep being the person because you don't deserve that."

Mason was right, Liam needed someone who was willing to be there for him in every way possible, and that couldn't be me if I wasn't willing to be honest.

"I shouldn't even be here right now," I confess shakily. "I should be trying to push you away, but I can't, and that terrifies the crap out of me."

Scott was the closest thing I'd ever have to a brother. I love him, and yet here I was, breaking my word. But I couldn't even regret it because being with Liam felt like the only right decision I had ever made in my entire life.

"You don't have to be scared," Liam says soothingly. "I'll keep you safe, if you let me."

His hand twitches at his side as he moves to reach for mine, stopping at the last second. He doesn't want to touch me without permission, my aversion always creating a wall between us. I make the effort to tear that barrier down for him and take his hand into mine first.

He smiles and pulls me closer.

From the day I made the vow to Allison to protect our pack, I had always wondered what it would feel like for someone to make that same vow to me. I longed for that, even if I didn't dare to admit it. I longed for devotion, and here Liam was, offering it to me.

His gaze falls to my lips, lingering for what feels like an eternity.

"I wanted it to be real, too, Jac," he whispers. "I still do."

The desperation in his eyes brings me enough courage to finally say what I've been wanting to.

"Then make it real," I say, giving him all the permission he needs.

He leans forward and presses his lips against mine in a heated movement. It's desperate, the way he kisses me, as if this is our final moment together and the second our lips part we'll never see each other again.

In some way, that isn't far from the truth.

Neither of us has any idea what will follow this moment. The only thing I do know is that I want it to last forever.

I'd never kissed anyone before, and it only dawned on me now that might cause a few problems. Liam senses my worry and lifts his hand to my face, stroking my cheek. it's a tender action to lure me into his embrace further and guide me.

Every fire and storm that raged inside of me was silenced in his kiss.

I can feel my throat tighten, willing me to breathe. It's a command I ignore as Liam's warmth, scent, and taste surrounded me. The feeling of belonging that comes from it was worth dying for.

It can't last forever, though. Liam pulls back, saving me from my own blind desires. The two of us pant softly in unison, taking in the air we lost. He uses his thumb to trace the length of my bottom lip, his eyes tracking the movement of his own hands. The blue of his iris was almost impossible to spot behind his widened pupils, his eyes black with want.

I cursed any future version of myself that might forget this image.

A smile begins to grow on my face and it pulls Liam out of whatever trance he was in. His own smile brightens and we share a soft laugh despite there not being much reason for it. Our moment is interrupted by the sudden buzzing in my pocket, signaling that I was getting a call. I give Liam an apologetic look as I pull it out, showing him Stiles' name on the screen.

"Go ahead," he urges me to answer, still holding me close.

I make the split-second choice to press a rushed and chaste kiss to his lips before answering the call, bravery still driving me. Liam bites down on his cheek to contain his widening grin, fondly shaking his head.

"Hey, Stiles. Are they okay?" I ask lightly.

I play with Liam's hand as I wait for the Stilinski boy to respond, relishing in the feel of him against me, convinced everything would be fine.

"Jac, she took them."

My heart sinks at Stiles' words and I find myself leaning away from Liam as guilt sinks in and I face the consequences of what I've done by tempting fate.

"Kate took Scott and Kira."

~

||| A/N |||

The Holy Trinity of locker room first kisses is complete!

I know a lot of ppl do it there for the first kiss in Liam fics, so sorry, but I had to do it, too!!

Yall should know by now I'm a sucker for parallels lmao, especially scallison

<3