Archive of Our Own

Isaac's life is neatly divided into two.

There's Before Isaac's Soulmark.

That's when his mom is alive. His father proudly shows off her name on the inside of his wrist. There are two Lahey sons; Camden, the elder, smart and athletic and an all around American boy. There's the younger, Isaac, who looks up to his father and his brother, wanting to be just like them. He takes a little flack for being a Momma's boy, as both his father and his brother call him, but it's all affectionate.

They're an average, loving family. Isaac is happy, and oblivious to the fact he should be grateful for these times, that he should enjoy them, that he would someday end up wishing he could hold on to them forever.

Then there's After Isaac's Soulmark.

His mark develops like it should—a little black blob appearing on the inside of his wrist on his thirteenth birthday. It'll take two weeks before it fully comes in. Before he knows who is the one person in the world right for him, who is supposed to make him feel happy and loved and complete.

There isn't anything else in his life that makes him feel like that. His mom got sick and died. Her name faded from his father's wrist, and now his father is sad and bitter, no longer proud of the bare wrist he has. Camden went off to war and died for his country. Isaac still looks up to him, but he no longer wants to be him.

Isaac places a lot of hopes on the developing name. He can't help it. It's all he has to look forward to.

And then the name appears fully in small scratchy printing. His soulmate.

Scott.

Isaac should be happy but he isn't.

His father makes sure of it.

**

The rules in the Fairvale school system are clear—all students are required to wear wrist guards to cover their soulmarks. Something about keeping them from being too distracted from their studies. Come to school without one, you're immediately sent to the office where one will be issued, along with an in-school suspension. Too many of those, and an expulsion will be handed out. There are disciplinary measures.

This isn't a problem for Isaac. If he dares leave the house without his wrist guard, his father has disciplinary measures of his own.

**

There are rumors of a couple pair of soulmates in school. Kids who have known each other all their lives. Or who had met when they were a bit older but felt that connection right away. But it's rare. The Health teacher makes sure to let them all know this isn't always the case, like her, for example. Sometimes soulmates don't find each other until they're older. In their twenties. Sometimes in their thirties. Maybe older.

Isaac doesn't want to be ancient when he meets his soulmate. He needs Scott sooner. He's counting on it.

**

Between the ages of thirteen and fifteen, Isaac meets three Scotts. He knows instantly each one of them is not his Scott.

One of them is a year ahead of Isaac in school. That Scott dates a girl named Brittany—no one knows if they're soulmates or not, but a lot of kids in high school date people who aren't their soulmates. They're teenagers, after all. Only traditionalists wait for their true love, but there aren't many of those anymore.

Given this Scott dates a Brittany... there's no way he's right for Isaac. Besides, his pushed-in nose isn't at all attractive to Isaac, and he acts like a cocky asshole. This isn't the Scott for him.

There's the Scott who teaches Chemistry at the high school. He’s about fifty years old with a terribly gray comb-over and smells like ginger and hand sanitizer. Nope. Just nope.

Finally, there's the Scott who moves in up the street from the Laheys. Scott is in his twenties. He's handsome. He's a nice guy who mows lawns for little old ladies on their block, something Isaac's dad used to do before he drank so much. Scott doesn't live with anyone, and he wears a wrist guard, which some people give up eventually when they're a little older in hopes of their soulmate randomly spotting it. It's easy to assume this Scott doesn't have a soulmate yet. Maybe he's wearing his guard because it's a same-sex name. Sometimes people still have issues with that, but not nearly as bad as decades past.

Isaac stops and says hello one day, introducing himself a little shyly. This Scott is cool and all, but Isaac quickly realizes this isn't his Scott either. He sort of reminds Isaac of Camden and being around him is nice.

Somehow, Isaac's dad finds out they talked. Scott ends up with an inexplicable punch to the face. So does Isaac, but he knows why.

Isaac stays away from that Scott afterward, for both their sakes.

**

Isaac doesn't like lacrosse much. He used to be a swimmer, like his father and like his brother. But after Coach Lahey got fired—for, in a less than diplomatic term, becoming a drunken fool—Isaac's dad made him give up swimming. But he didn't make Isaac give up trying to achieve greatness through sports. Apparently this meant Isaac has to play lacrosse and he has to play it well.

Isaac gets a growth spurt and over summer becomes tall and lean, and he suspects his father will make him play basketball instead. But for the fall he sticks with lacrosse and gives it his all. His father’s treatment would be more miserable if he didn’t, although he’s never completely pleased.

The Fairvale Beavers play a game against the Beacon Hill Cyclones. Isaac gets a lot of playing time. It’s a tough game but they’re smashing the Cyclones. There is no chance for Beacon Hills to ever catch up. In the dying minutes of the game, the yelling, ridiculous coach for Beacon Hills gives a couple guys benched the entire game a chance to play.

That’s when some small guy named McCall gets pummeled to the ground, and his skinny friend Stilinski calls out, "Scott!"

Isaac’s footsteps stutter, and he turns around to go back on the field. He can’t help but go over and check the guy out.

"Don’t move, Scott, don’t—"

"I’m fine." Scott sits up and pulls off his helmet. He’s pale, and his shaggy brown hair is matted to his forehead. He coughs. "I might need my inhaler though."

Stilinski is immediately on his feet and running at the bench, yelling for Scott’s inhaler. The coach doesn’t seem impressed, and yells to stop the medic from wasting his time from going on the field. There is no medic.

"You okay?" Isaac asks.

Scott glances up. He gives a crooked grin that’s probably supposed to be reassuring. Isaac doesn’t feel reassured. "Oh, yeah, I’m fine."

"Here, let me help you up." Isaac puts out his hand.

Scott reaches out to take it. Isaac can’t help but look for a name on the inside of his wrist—but of course Scott wears a wrist guard too, especially during a game. It’s mandatory in all California school districts—again, something about not getting distracted while competing. Isaac’s always keeps his Scott covered up, no matter what he’s doing or where he is, but this is the first time Isaac’s been disappointed with the stupid rule.

When their hands meet, there—isn’t much of a reaction. There are no fireworks, no magical violins playing in the background.

Isaac thinks his heart does skip a beat but returns to normal so quickly he’s not sure it happened.

He lets go of Scott’s hand, and Isaac feels no different.

"Thanks, man," Scott says, a little winded but friendly. Then Scott turns gratefully to his friend running over with an inhaler.

"Here," Stilinski says. "Don’t die before your first date with Allison. That would suck."

Scott laughs then coughs. "That would be my luck," he says, and then takes a puff of the inhaler.

Isaac turns away from the field, a little bit disappointed, but he knows it’s for the best. He doesn’t get to have crooked, easy smiles.

**

Isaac doesn’t know if Scott McCall is his soulmate. But, unlike the other Scotts he knows, it doesn’t feel like he should be completely dismissive of this Scott either. Even if there is an Allison out there.

At first he doesn’t know what to make of it. Then he remembers something his mother told him about soulmates. He’ll never forget. It was a quiet moment while she lay in bed, resting from her treatment. Isaac sat next to her, reading to her out of her favorite soulmark classic romance. He thought it was boring, but he read it for her.

"It’s not always like that," she had said. "Books and movies like to make up stories about how it’s always perfect, but it’s not. It’s not always instant. You don’t always know. And even when you do—it doesn’t always work."

"I don’t understand."

She put her fingers on her inner wrist, tracing over his father’s name. "I knew your father for a year before I knew, for sure, he was the one I wanted to be with always. Before I knew it could actually work."

Isaac was shocked. His mom and dad seemed to get along together so well. "What do you mean?"

"Relationships take work. Effort. Having a soulmate doesn’t mean everything will be perfect. I went to high school with these two friends who were soulmates, but after a disastrous marriage, they divorced. But I know another couple who, when they met in college, decided it wasn’t what they wanted and went their separate ways. And when they saw each other ten years later—they knew they were meant to be together. They’re happy now, but it took living separate lives for a long time to get there."

"Like you and Dad?"

Her smile was sad. "Like me and Dad. A mark is precious and beautiful, but it’s not a lifetime guarantee."

Isaac still didn’t understand. "Then what’s the point?"

She smiled again, and looked more peaceful. "The point is—it’s worth the effort."

"But I might end up with a name, a person, who isn’t really for me? How will I know?"

"You’ll know the mark is right when the time is right."

Isaac scrunched up his nose. "What does that mean?"

She laughed. "You’ll know when you know."

That didn’t make it any more clearer.

And now, after meeting Scott McCall, Isaac still doesn’t know. But he doesn’t forget this Scott either.

**

It’s a year later when Isaac sees Scott McCall again.

Scott has… changed.

Isaac almost wouldn't have recognized him if it weren't the name McCall and the number 11 emblazed on the back of his red jersey.

This Scott doesn't look anything like the small guy who got shoved viciously to the ground the season before. He's taller, and broader in the shoulders and chest. Isaac can tell that even with his protective equipment on. His formally shaggy hair is cut short and clean. His skin isn't wan and sickly pale, instead tan and glowing with health.

His crooked smile is the same.

Isaac's palms feel clammy and his heart beats a little louder, and he knows it has nothing to do with the soulmark on his wrist. It could say Kim or Miley or Juan or Billy-Bob, and he'd feel the same when looking at Scott McCall.

He should be troubled with the fact, with everything his father says and does to drive negative thoughts into his head. And especially with his father perched on his spot at the top of the bleachers, an eagle's eye to the game. Isaac should be grateful the jerseys don't have their first names on them instead.

McCall waves to a brown-haired girl sitting on the bleachers not too far away from Isaac's dad. The girl smiles and waves back. Isaac wonders if it's the same girl McCall planned on going on a date with the year before. Allison. Isaac hadn't forgotten either of those names. Scott and Allison.

Isaac looks away, stomach turning sour. Which he knows it shouldn't and he has no right to feel this way. Besides, it wouldn't do him any good for his dad to see him showing interest in any boys.

The Fairvale Beavers play their game against the Beacon Hill Cyclones. Again, Isaac gets a lot of playing time. It too is a tough game but this time the Beavers are getting smashed by the Cyclones.

McCall is a beast on the field.

And this time, it's Isaac who gets pummeled to the ground, after running into McCall, who must be build even more like a shit brickhouse under his equipment than Isaac initially thought.

The ref blows the whistle to stop the game. "Oh hey, man," McCall says—it's easier for Isaac to think of him like that instead of Scott. It makes him ache a little less, and focus a little more on the game. "You okay?"

"Sure." Isaac's head falls back to the ground. He closes his eyes. He's playing a crap game, and his father is going to be so angry. "Just great."

"Here," McCall says. He holds out a hand.

Isaac takes it, because he's a sucker for punishment, apparently, in so many different ways. "Thanks."

"Your face okay?" McCall gestures at Isaac's face. Isaac's wearing his mask, but there's a three-day-old bruise hiding beneath it that has nothing to do with the game.

"Yes, it’s fine."

McCall frowns. "You sure? Maybe you should get it checked out."

"I'm fine." It's short, to the point, and sounds annoyed, Isaac knows. He can't have anyone, let alone a Scott, making any sorts of insinuations about his bruises.

McCall's frown deepens. "I don't know, that looks—"

"I said I'm fine." Isaac closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's not used to anyone caring about how he's doing anymore. He forces his voice to soften so he doesn't sound like such an asshole. "Really, I'm okay. But thanks."

McCall doesn't look like he's willing to let it go, but then Stilinski calls from the bench. "Scott, what are you doing? Come on!"

Scott gives Isaac a friendly bro-pat on the shoulder, shoots him a grin, and jogs back to his bench.

Isaac goes back to his bench too. He doesn't look up into the stands. He doesn't need to. He can picture the look on his father's face. He'll see it, and more, much later.

**

Isaac is introduced to the freezer.

He really hates small spaces.

**

It all comes to a head after the school year. After lacrosse is long finished, and the basketball season where Isaac had mildly more success but much less fun, and after a constant failure of grades not being good enough. Classes have let out for summer, and Isaac is forced to work at the local cemetery. It's where his dad works, has a job with the town where he’s designated to all the crappiest jobs, and he's making Isaac help out for the summer.

Isaac hates the cemetery almost as much as he hates the freezer. Every night at work he has to walk past his mother's tombstone and that is its own kind of torture.

It's probably the same for his father, but he takes out the pain on Isaac.

One night, Isaac is helping dig a new hole for a funeral the next day. After the backhoe is turned off and safed out, he gets out and goes to the grave to check it out.

He's pushed from behind and falls right in, and he hears his father's laughter. Dirt falls onto him, as if he's being buried alive. He screams and shouts in terror, which only makes his father laugh more.

"Got you good, son," his father says, like it's all some big joke. Like it’s funny. He probably thinks it is. He stands there and continues to laugh as Isaac scrambles out of the grave.

Isaac can't contain his anger, fueled by his terror. "What the hell? You fucking psycho!"

The laughter quickly dissipates from his father's face.

Isaac doesn't even feel bad for it and will take whatever's dished out later.

But he vows not to take any more ever again.

**

The next time his father passed out from booze, Isaac packs ups up his backpack. Two changes of clothes, the little stash of money he's saved up, some protein bars, and a couple of pictures of his mother and Camden placed carefully between the pages of his mother's favorite soulmark romance novel. He doesn’t bother with his phone, his father would probably find a way to track it, if he so desired. Good chance he wouldn’t bother, but Isaac didn’t want to chance it.

Isaac leaves the house in the dead of the night and promises himself never to return.

**

Isaac hitches a ride to Beacon Hills. It's not far, in the grand scheme of things, and maybe he should go farther to better escape his father. But this is the end of the road for the trucker he's with and he's dropped off at one of the local gas stations. He doesn't feel compelled to move along. Isaac feels like this is where he should stay, so he does.

**

Being a homeless teenage runaway is not easy.

Isaac doesn't think of anything or anyone much for a week, nothing aside from finding food and shelter and keeping under the radar of the local law enforcement. There doesn't seem to be a big homeless population in this town, but Isaac quickly finds the spots where he should and shouldn't go.

He's mostly left alone. People seem to think he's some hipster drifter on a summer road trip, like Beacon Hills is one stop onto bigger and better things. He never corrects anyone, and he finds he's treated better when he plays into it. But he knows there'll be a time when the suspicions start, and he may have to move on to keep out of trouble.

It turns out, trouble finds him. But he welcomes it.

By the time he finds the abandoned train car, he's been a runaway for eight days and seven nights. He's hungry, he's dirty, but more than anything, he's exhausted. But this is the first place he's found he feels comfortable enough with, isolated enough by, that he can fully fall asleep and feel safe.

He should've known better.

He's tucked into one of the seats with his backpack as his pillow, which isn't easy with his long limbs but he manages it. He has no idea how long he's slept but he wakes suddenly, as if sensing someone hovering above him.

There's a flash of red eyes and Isaac flails, falling off the seat to the dusty floor below, banging his head against the metal side of the car. When he blinks and looks up, the red eyes are gone and the dude has backed away a couple steps.

"I'm Derek," Derek says. "I've been watching you. Looks like you can use some help. I have an offer."

Isaac doesn't know where to start trying to process that. When he doesn't say a word either way, Derek starts explaining.

Isaac listens.

**

Derek is a little creepy and a lot weird.

What he tells Isaac should scare him away. It doesn't make sense. It's not possible. It can't be real.

Then Derek brings out the red eyes again, and pops out some claws, and his face goes furrowed and furry, fangs elongating.

Derek demonstrates his sheer power. His strength.

And Isaac wants.

**

Isaac likes being a werewolf.

Derek doesn't seem to have much to his name except a gorgeous car and a nearly empty loft, but he allows Isaac to stay with him. Isaac sleeps on a little bedroll with a sleeping bag in one corner of the room, but he doesn't mind. The loft is big and open and never once does it feel like the walls are crowding in on him. He has somewhere to shower, eat, and sleep, and even though he only had to live a week without, he's grateful to have that much back.

It feels safer than his own home has for years.

Isaac meets Erica and Boyd, two teens around his age who were also recently bitten. He doesn't get their whole story, but from what he understands, they're outcasts like him. It's hard for him to believe because Erica is vivacious and hot, and Boyd is the kind of guy every coach at Isaac's old school would be tracking down to convince to join the teams.

Erica and Boyd have also recently realized recently they're soulmates.

Isaac would probably find it nauseating, because newly discovered soulmates tend to be lovey-dovey, except when they're all together they're too busy training. To be werewolves. Because they all are and that will never cease to be weird and cool. So there’s not a lot of time for them to be too gross over their bond.

Isaac doesn't tell them much other than he grew up in California but he ran away from home because his father is a dick. They don't push him for more and he appreciates it.

They spend time at the abandoned warehouse honing their new skills and talents. Derek is relentlessly hard on them, but Isaac knows it's for their own good. He doesn't complain when Derek hits him and even breaks his arm one time. Isaac's body heals miraculously where before that kind of injury would've taken a cast. Isaac knows. Besides, now that he's strong, he gets hits back in. Derek encourages it. And that is satisfying.

Isaac isn't weak anymore. He's not weak, and he's not afraid. He can stand up for himself and no one is ever going to hurt him again. He won’t allow it.

**

There’s hunters.

Of course there is.

It seems Derek failed to mention that when he gave each of them his offer.

**

"Is this why you're pushing us so hard?" Erica's hand is on her hip and she's glaring at Derek, unimpressed. She had a run-in the night before with a couple dudes with tranq guns, and she and Boyd barely got away.

"I've been training you in your abilities," Derek answers. His arms are crossed over his chest, chin tilted up defiantly against what he probably construes as personal attacks.

"I'm all for training," Isaac says. He's sitting on a set of stairs that leads down to the abandoned railway car, watching the scene below. Training is like practice—the more of it you do, the better you will be. But going into any game blind isn't going to help. "But a heads-up would've been good, man."

Derek's eyes barely flicker up to look at him. "I tell you what you need to know when you need to know it."

Boyd hovers at Erica's shoulder, of course, staring down Derek. "I think this is a need-to-know situation."

Derek huffs. Isaac doesn't think he likes being told what to do—Derek's the alpha, the leader of their pack. He's the boss. But his arms relax and Isaac can see some of his stubbornness give away. Just a little.

"Fine. Obviously the hunters know there are more of us, so they'll be more persistent. We need to be more vigilant."

"You know," Isaac says, tilting his head. He drawls slowly, "We could've been if we knew we had to."

"I'm telling you now," Derek snaps. Boyd suppresses a grin and Erica full out smirks. "The three of you need to shut up and listen to me."

They do.

Derek tells them, quickly and sort of vaguely, that he was born a werewolf and had a family once, but they were killed by hunters. He tells them what omegas are, and about the strength of packs, which Isaac assumes is why the three of them were turned. He tells them the local family patrolling the area is the Argents.

"What, like Allison Argent?" Erica says, making a face. "She moved here a couple years ago, right? Everyone thought she was so great. Like, right away she hung out with the popular kids. It was annoying."

"Dated Scott for a while, right?" Boyd says. "He used to be a loser."

"But now he’s not. Because he dated Allison. And got hot."

Isaac lets out an involuntary whimper he doesn't mean, covering it up with a cough. "Scott? Allison?"

"Oh, right," Erica says. "You didn't go to our school."

Derek stares at him. "You know them?"

Isaac shakes his head, but he can't lie, not exactly. Derek would be able to tell. "Played against a Scott in lacrosse."

"Probably him," Boyd says. "Scott McCall."

Isaac nods but doesn't say anything else. He doesn't touch his wrist guard, making sure not to draw attention to it. He's good at that. Erica and Boyd don't wear theirs when they're all together, their bonding not a secret amongst the pack. Derek wears a wrist guard too, and he's constantly fingering at it and frowning, like he doesn't understand what's beneath it.

Isaac learned as soon as he got his name to pretend he didn't care about it. Not to draw attention to it. Especially around his father. And he rarely looks at the pale skin beneath the guard; he doesn't need to. He has the little Scott memorized.

"Hunters don't have soulmarks," Derek says. "They'll wear bands so no one in public knows, but it's part of being a hunter. Some call it a curse, other's call it a strength."

Erica moves closer to Boyd and frowns. "How can it be a strength?"

Derek shrugs. "Something about not having a vulnerability to their enemies, a soft spot of attack. But I don't believe that. They form deep bonds with whoever they choose to. They love. They have families. But they believe it's easier to make the necessary sacrifices without a soulmate."

He shifts uncomfortably. Isaac wonders if he knows this as a fact.

"It's different for wolves," Derek says. "It depends on... a lot."

Erica slips her arm through Boyd's possessively. "How so?"

"It can change if you're made one instead of born one."

An icy fear grips Isaac's insides. He hasn't bothered looking at his name for weeks. Not since he ran away. He's been busy, trying to survive the streets then survive Derek's training and now apparently he has to survive hunters too. He's always depended on Scott being there, the one constant in his life. He'd hate for it to change. Never once had it crossed his mind it could.

Derek should have warned him of that too.

"Sometimes it stays the same, like yours did," Derek explains. He gestures to Boyd and Erica, who seemed destined to end up together, werewolf or not, if you believe in that sort of thing. "But sometimes... sometimes your original name will disappear. Sometimes your wrist stays blank. And sometimes a new name will come in."

Isaac's heart pounds, and only then does Derek look over at him. He tilts his head, assessing. Derek says, "That's what happened to Scott, I think. Part of it, anyway."

Isaac's glad he's already sitting down.

Erica shrieks with laughter. "To Scott. Wait, are you saying Scott's like us."

Derek's expression turns stormy. "No. Not exactly. He was turned but against his will. Not by me." He frowns. "But he remains an omega. By choice."

"Tell me more!" Erica says.

Derek rolls his eyes. "We are not gossiping grade school girls."

"Says you." Her eyes twinkle with interest. "But I totally want to know what's up with that. Is this why he and Allison broke up?" Boyd scowls. She doesn't seem repentant, but pats his arm and kisses his cheek. "Don't worry, I'm just curious!"

"I really couldn't tell you all the details," Derek says dryly. "I know he dated Allison for a year—"

"Oh my God, did he have her name but she didn't have his?" Erica asks. "That's a set up for a tragic movie ending if I ever heard one."

"I don't know. But I know after he was changed last fall, they dated a while longer but then they weren't. But a lot went down between the Argents and the werewolves around here, so it might be that more than anything."

"Like what?" Boyd asks.

Derek tells them how a crazy alpha—later discovered to be his uncle—went on a murderous rampage. Turned Scott. Killed some folks, including a hunter named Kate Argent who Derek didn't seem to want to talk about. They stopped the uncle. Allison's mom also tried to harm Scott; Derek saved him, but ended up biting her in the process, and she decided to take her life instead of being turned. And now the Argents were on the warpath. Even Allison, who had apparently been a sort-of ally through a lot of that but isn't any more.

Isaac has a feeling Derek is withholding details, but they know more now than they ever did. His three betas sit in a stunned silence.

"You don't have much to say," Derek finally addresses Isaac.

Isaac curls his hands into fists so he doesn't touch his wrist guard. "You should have said before you turned us."

Derek crosses his arms again, defensive. "Would that have stopped you?"

Isaac finally touches the black rubber around his wrist, like an apology. Sorry, Scott, whether or not he was still there.

"No," Isaac says, shaking his head.

Derek looks relieved.

**

Later that night, Isaac curls up on the floor atop the bedroll. There aren't any lights on in the loft, but the partial moon is bright enough through the large windows that Isaac can see well enough with his supernatural eyes.

He takes off his wristband for the first time in months.

Scott.

Isaac sighs deeply, fingers lightly tracing the familiar letters. He has no clue who this Scott is, no matter how much his mind and his heart pings whenever he hears about McCall. He has no absolute confirmation in it at all, and he can't get his hopes up. He’s only going to end up disappointed because that’s just how his life goes.

He's relieved he didn't end up betraying his Scott by accepting the bite.

**

At one point, Boyd had chided Derek for revealing Scott was a werewolf. Secretly, Isaac agrees. He doesn't want Derek going around flaunting information about him to anyone either. But Derek's dismissive, claiming as soon as they get within twenty feet of Scott, they would've known anyway.

Turns out, Derek is right.

Erica and Isaac are on a scouting mission, of a sort. He's been a wolf for exactly three weeks, but here in the middle of a bustling town on summer vacation, there's been a couple mysterious deaths. Some high school coach—which only makes Isaac think of his father, but he doesn't speak that aloud—and someone who is apparently a hunter.

Isaac has no idea what Derek thinks they'll find in the woods where the hunter had been found dead, but he goes and looks anyway. It's not like he has anything better to do.

The crime scene where the body was found has been released from the police but when Isaac and Erica get there, they aren't the only ones snooping around.

Isaac steps into the clearing and sees Scott McCall and his skinny friend Stilinski crouched down looking at something. His stupid heart does a double beat, and Scott looks up from what he's looking at on the ground. He blinks and is clearly surprised.

Stilinski looks up too, but his eyes go straight to Erica. "Holy shit," Stilinski says. "Erica? You look… wow."

Erica preens. Sure, she looks all right, in skin-tight jeans and a white tank top, blond hair sleek and stylish, but Isaac doesn't get the total surprise and why Stiles is making a big deal of it.

"Hi, Stiles," she says, smirking. She blows a kiss in the air. "Hello, Scott."

"He turned you," Scott says. His eyes shift between Erica and Isaac. "Both of you."

"What?" Stilinski says. "Who turned who? What are you talking about?"

"They're werewolves," Scott says. "It must've been Derek."

"Oh, Stiles knows too?" Erica says. She sniffs the air. "Aww, but buddy-boy here is a normal, weak human boy, isn't he?"

"Hey, who are you calling weak? And who the hell is this guy?"

Scott answers. "He's on the Fairvale lacrosse team. Lahey, right?"

Stiles squints at him. "How the hell did you find your way to the Beacon Hills supernatural underground?"

Isaac bristles. It's none of Stiles' business. He's about to say exactly that when Scott stands suddenly.

"We have to get out of here."

"What?" Stiles stands too.

"Someone's coming."

Erica doesn't seem to care about the urgency. "You're kidding, right? You want me and Isaac gone."

Scott's head turns sharply to look at them, and Stiles snorts and says under his breath, "You have got to be kidding me."

Isaac doesn't have the time to wonder what that's about, because he hears it too. Rumbling in the woods, like engines. Dogs barking. Angry shouting.

And it's close now. Too close.

"Run," he says.

All four of them do.

Isaac has no idea what the best strategy for running from hunters is. Split up? Stick together? Stronger as a pack, right? But Scott and Stiles aren't part of their pack, and Erica and Isaac are much faster. They get yards ahead of the others.

Isaac can hear Stiles and Scott in the trees behind them. It's not that he and Erica are faster, it's that they're both werewolves. Stiles isn't but Scott isn't leaving him behind. The hunters are closing in.

"Go," Isaac says to Erica. "Get to Derek. Tell him we might need help."

"What? Isaac!"

Isaac falls behind. He keeps moving, but slows down and veers in the direction of Scott and Stiles. Isaac runs along a ridge above them, and they're in a shallow, waterless ravine. There's an ATV right behind them, two hunters on it. One is driving and the other is shooting arrows.

They don't realize he's there. Isaac leaps, knocking them off the ATV, which turns and crashes into the rock of the ravine. Scott turns to help him, but Isaac only yells, "Go!"

Isaac uses some of his training, punching them both and knocking them out. He runs up the ravine after Scott and Stiles. Scott's in the lead, and Stiles is behind them. Isaac brings up the rear.

He hears the arrows being knocked and shot. Apparently one hunter wasn’t unconscious. With his crazy good hearing, he knows he's not in the path of the arrows, but Stiles is.

He jumps two feet to the side, protecting Stiles at his back, and is hit with three arrows. He stumbles forward, knocking Stiles to the ground and pinning him under his weight.

"Jesus Christ, get off me, you big oaf," Stiles says. He sounds short of breath.

Isaac looks up in time to see Scott's face shift into werewolf mode, gold eyes flashing, before he's jumped over Isaac and Stiles. Isaac listens to Scott fight the two hunters—more like beat them down—while he crawls off Stiles' back. He tries to stand up, but falls to the ground belly down. The arrows in his back ache, and there's pain shooting through his entire body.

"Are these poisoned?" Isaac blinks against the black dots dancing in front of his eyes.

"Probably," Stiles mutters above him. "Dirty hunter trick. I'll have to remember it. Now, hold still."

Isaac does but lets out a grunt as the arrows are pulled out of his back.

The black dots expand until there's nothing but darkness.

**

Isaac wakes up in the back of a vehicle. Scott sits at Isaac's side. Stiles drives.

Scott says, "Stiles, hurry up."

"I'm going as fast as I can!" Stiles says, waving his arm around in the front seat. "What if my dad catches me speeding, huh? How are we gonna explain this?"

They go over a bump in the road and Isaac's head knocks against the window.

"Ow," he complains.

"Hold on," Scott says. He puts his hand on Isaac shoulder, right over one of the holes that is not closing up. Why isn't it closing? All of Isaac's other injuries have healed almost instantaneously over the last couple weeks.

Suddenly, the pain is reduced. It's almost gone. Isaac can feel the open wound but at least it doesn't hurt anymore. With a glance over, he sees Scott's arm has protruding black veins.

"What?" he mumbles, but closes his eyes again. He's tired. "Where's Derek? I need to talk to Derek."

There's a terse silence in the Jeep.

"We don't like Derek," Stiles says from the driver's seat.

"He's my alpha," Isaac says. "He made me. Saved me."

Scott doesn't sound happy, but he's not angry either. "We'll get you help, then we'll get you Derek."

"Gross," Stiles says, but he does sound a little angry. "Does this mean I have to like Derek via Isaac? I mean, Isaac did save my life and all. This doesn't mean we have to be part of Derek's pack, does it?"

"No," Scott says sharply. "We're not in Derek pack."

"You never know," Stiles says. "We're learning all kinds of new werewolfy things we never knew before. New rules, new information, new werewolves popping up every day. It's hard to keep up."

Isaac snorts. He understands that.

"We don't have to be part of Derek's pack," Scott says firmly. His hand is light on Isaac's shoulder. "No one does."

"I want a pack," Isaac says. He closes his eyes. He's amazingly tired. He circles his fingers around his wrist guard. He knows what he really wants. "Scott."

He passes out again.

**

When he wakes up, he's lying on a cold, metal table and it smells like a sterile hospital ward. With the sound of dogs barking.

"Hello," a mild-manner voice says. "I'm Dr. Deaton."

Dr. Deaton is sort of weird and creepy, but in a way entirely different from Derek’s weird and creepy. The doctor is oddly calm and serene as he tells Isaac he's at the local veterinarians office and he helped heal the arrow wounds on his back. Isaac wonders if it's some sort of cosmic joke that he's a werewolf and he has to be healed by the local dog doctor. He sits up on the table and crosses his arms over his bare chest, trying not to feel awkward, but Dr. Deaton hands him a clean shirt to put on.

Isaac isn't paying much attention to Dr. Deaton. He's eavesdropping on the hushed, intensely whispered conversation Scott and Derek are having in the next room. They're arguing over hunters, and over him.

"They don't get along," Dr. Deaton says. Isaac glances over at him. Dr. Deaton's watching Isaac as if he's something fascinating. "They've never had a reason to. Not before, anyway."

Isaac swallows hard and doesn't touch his wrist. He jumps off the table.

Derek and Scott must sense he's awake, because they stop arguing and within a second, they're both in the room with Isaac and Dr. Deaton, one on either side of him.

"Are you all right?" Scott asks earnestly.

Derek claps a hand on Isaac's shoulder. "Of course he's all right. He's strong." The he's my pack hangs on the air. Scott scowls at Derek.

"I'm fine," Isaac tells them. The last thing he wants is them arguing over him. It doesn't make sense in his head. But he's not going to be rude about it. Turning to Scott, he says, "Thanks. For the help."

"No, thank you," Scott says. "You protected Stiles."

Isaac can't say for sure, but he thinks Derek's frown deepens.

Isaac shuffles from foot to foot, head bowed down, and shrugs one shoulder dismissively, even though his insides glow with the praise.

Derek huffs.

"We should go," Derek announces. His hand squeezes Isaac's shoulder. He doesn't seem particularly pleased to say, "Thank you for your help, Dr. Deaton."

"Not a problem. It's a good thing Scott and Stiles got him here when they did."

"Yes, it is." Derek looks like he's swallowed a lemon. "Thank you, Scott."

Scott nods. "Derek, listen to what I said, okay?"

"I don't think so," Derek says. "But you should listen to what I said."

Scott says mockingly, "I don't think so." More seriously, he adds, "No one has to get hurt. We can figure this out."

"Someone did get hurt," Derek says. He pats Isaac's shoulder again before letting his hand drop away completely. "And I will protect my pack. My town."

"I'm going to do the same," Scott says. "Without anyone getting killed."

Isaac's eyes go wide. Killed? Why would anyone get killed? But then he remembers the claws in his hands, the fangs in his mouth, the arrows shot at his back... and he realizes he's naive to think there isn't going to be death involved, somehow, considering what he is and who is after them.

"Unlikely," Derek says to Scott. "Isaac, let's go."

Scott's eyes are big and puppy-like, as if pleading with Isaac to stay behind, to stay good, to something. But Isaac doesn't know him, not really, and what he does know is Derek saved him from the streets and gave him power. And Derek's his leader.

Isaac follows Derek out of the room.

But not before throwing an apologetic half-smile over his shoulder at Scott.

**

That night, Isaac wakes up terribly thirsty. He wonders if it's an effect of being shot and poisoned. He feels fine, other than having a parched throat. He gets off his bedroll and quietly makes his way to the tiny kitchenette in Derek's loft, and gets a glass of water.

"He's wrong, you know," Derek says out of the blue, startling the hell out of Isaac. Isaac fumbles his glass of water in shock, but manages to catch it before it falls to the floor. He hates broken glass.

Isaac pokes his head out of the kitchenette and sees Derek standing in front of the tall windows. Isaac pads quietly across the loft to stand next to him. He's shocked to see Derek's wrist guard is off, and he does nothing to cover it up and hide.

Isaac can't read the name—well, he can, but it makes no sense to him. It's ridiculously long and spelled weird, like it's foreign. Derek frowns at it, and Isaac looks away. It's personal, and he feels like he shouldn't have seen it in the first place.

"Scott is wrong," Derek says. "There is no getting around what's happening without someone getting hurt."

"You really should've made things more clear before you turned us, you know?"

Derek sighs. "I'm new to this alpha thing."

"But not to the werewolf thing," Isaac points out.

"No. But I... I wanted to go back to what it was like. With a pack." He runs his fingers over his long, ridiculous name. "I forgot what that meant, though."

"Security?"

"Security, and threats." Derek puts his band back on. "Get some sleep, Isaac." With that, he goes up the spiraling stairs.

"Yeah," Isaac says, not caring if Derek picks up on it, "good talk."

**

It is undoubted the longest, weirdest summer Isaac has ever had. It all boils down to one word:

Kanima.

So apparently there's some weird lizard creature on the loose. It starts with the killing of some high school coach. And then there are a string of deaths of young adults.

They're all the age Isaac's older brother Camden would've been. It creeps Isaac out.

Derek insists that to make things right, they find the kanima and put it down. Isaac, Boyd, and Erica get that... especially after they were attacked by the damn thing.

Scott's ragtag pack of him and humans try to figure out the mystery and save the kanima's life... there's a person in there. They need to do what they can to help.

Derek and Scott do not see eye-to-eye, not about how to deal with the situation and not about who the kanima actually is, and it pits the two packs against each other. Isaac gets a weird feeling in his stomach any time he's supposed to go up against Scott. He knows he should ignore it—Derek is his alpha. He needs to listen to Derek.

But the name etched on Isaac's skin sometimes leads him away. He doesn't even know who that Scott is, but he finds it difficult standing against the Scott he does know. It's a problem. He doesn't tell Derek.

The night the rave goes down and Scott hands Isaac the tranquilizer, his fingers linger on Isaac's hand for a second longer than necessary. It feels like sparks are crawling up Isaac's arm under his skin.

Isaac doesn't tell Derek.

Of course, that night is a complete mess, even as Isaac pushes the thought of Scott out of his mind. Not only is there a kanima to deal with and get information out of as it's drugged up, and two packs not quite getting along trying to figure it out—there are hunters.

Of course there are hunters.

Isaac meets Scott's ex-girlfriend for the first time, and she's stark, raving mad. She stabs Isaac, several times, as if she knows he could be the one for Scott.

He thinks of that as he passes out.

**

He's never been so happy to see Stiles’ ridiculous mole-spotted face when Isaac next opens his eyes.

"Isaac, come on, bud," Stiles says, patting the sides of his face. "Scott will be so mad at me if anything happens to you."

"His ex-girlfriend's a bitch," Isaac moans as he struggles to stands up.

"It's complicated," Stiles says, with a frown. It doesn't reassure Isaac that Scott's best friend isn't agreeing. "She's been through a lot. I'm hoping Lydia can drag her out of her hate-filled daze."

"Who's Lydia?"

Stiles looks momentarily offended, as if there was something horribly wrong that Isaac had no idea who Lydia is. But then he shakes his head and scratches at the band covering his wrist.

"Wait," Isaac says. "Red-head? Derek thought she was the kanima."

"It's not her," Stiles says, which Isaac knew because they just finished drugging some dude named Jackson. "And she is—was—is Allison's best friend. She might be able to talk Allison out of her crazed, kill-all-werewolves phase. Maybe."

Isaac wants to slump back down to the ground and take a nap, clear the cobwebs from his head. "Beacon Hills is one massive, supernatural soap opera. Why the hell did I end up here?"

Stiles looks like he wants to answer, but doesn't.

**

When Isaac isn't training, isn't listening to Derek wax on about the evils of the kanima and why it must be stopped, and isn't running for his life from hunters, he spends quite a bit of time at Dr. Deaton's.

Yes, sometimes to be healed.

But mostly because Scott works there, and Isaac is drawn to his presence. He tries harder and harder not to think of the name on his wrist and the dull heat that's been pulsing there.

"This is too normal," Isaac says one day. He's leaning against the side counter, watching as Scott tends to his work in the kennels. Scott carefully picks up a fluffy white dog, and Isaac doesn't let his heart melt into a pile of goo. He's not some lovelorn tween girl.

"What's normal?" Scott asks. He pushes his nose into the scruff of the dog, and gives it a sweet kiss to the top of its head.

Isaac coughs, and shrugs one shoulder. "I don't know. With all the crazy things going on around this town, you're... working your summer job."

Scott looks up and grins that crooked grin of his. "What else am I supposed to do? I mean, sure, I get messed up in some of the supernatural stuff, but I have to live my life too. Know what I mean?"

Isaac doesn't know. His life is supernatural stuff. There is nothing else.

Scott doesn't seem to expect an answer. He carefully puts the dog down. "She's sick. Cancer. Dr. Deaton's trying to help, but... well, her owners will have to make a difficult decision soon."

"If she's beyond help, it's not really a decision, is it?" Isaac doesn't mean to sound so cranky, but it reminds him too much of his mother.

Scott's smile is soft, and sad. "You're right. I've been trying to make things more comfortable for her." He puts a hand on the dog's side, and closes his eyes. The veins on his arms goes black and pronounced. When he pulls away, the dog seems much more relaxed. Peaceful.

"What did you do?" Isaac asks. He walked over to the table. The dog licks his hand when he reaches out.

"Took some of her pain. Do you want to try?"

"Oh, I—I don't know. I've never—I probably can't." But even as he doubts himself, he reaches out. He closes his eyes, and thinks about taking away this poor dogs pain. He gasps as he feels it enter his fingertips, but it's quickly absorbed.

When he pulls away, emotion overwhelms him, and he can’t speak. All he can think about is how he could've done that for his mom, how much it would’ve helped her to ease her pain in the final days.

Scott smiles softly. "See? There's good to what we are, too."

**

By the end of the summer, the murders in the town have piled up. Boyd and Erica get kidnapped by some old, geriatric hunter and Stiles saves them. A huge battle goes down at the police station, and the kanima's controller is some short high school guy named Matt who Isaac vaguely recognizes from lacrosse. Stiles and Derek get paralyzed together and then won't look at each other for days. Even after Matt is killed, someone else gets control of the kanima, and the murders aren't over yet.

"This is crazy," Erica says one day. Her and Boyd are cuddled together on one of the seats in the old, abandoned car. They'd all come here to train, but no one seems up for it. "This isn't a normal teenaged life."

"You're a werewolf," Derek snaps at her. Isaac has noticed how he's been cracking under the stress lately. "What did you expect?"

"Not this." She tightens her arms around Boyd's waist. "We're leaving at the end of the summer."

Derek looks up sharply. "What do you mean, leaving?"

"Boyd got into a prep school on a sports scholarship. I got in too on exceptional status."

She's his soulmate, probably officially verified and certified, so of course she gets to go too. There are laws to protect soulmates who have found each other, especially at a young age.

Derek's shoulders relax, but he still looks unhappy. "I can't make you stay."

"No," Erica says. "You can't."

Boyd speaks up. "But we'll help you with the kanima business. We won't leave you hanging." The not yet goes unsaid.

**

"You leaving too?" Derek's voice is sharp through the dark loft.

Isaac looks up from where he’s getting his mother's book out of his backpack. He waves it in Derek's direction and settles down on his bedroll.

"No," Isaac says.

He's got nowhere to go.

**

They defeat the kanima. It takes both Derek's pack and Scott and his friends working together, Lydia's persuading Allison to stop being so angry at werewolves, and a coalition between Allison the hunter, her dad the hunter, the werewolves, and Lydia's telling the Jackson-kanima she still loves him, even though he doesn't carry her name on his wrist anymore.

Basically, Isaac boils it down to the awesomeness of this chick Lydia, whom he doesn't know but sort of fears and respects.

Oh, and the fact Derek and Scott put aside their differences long enough to work together. Both of them credit Isaac for it, but Isaac shrugs it off. He's not an idiot. He knew it would only work if the two of them stopped being idiots about it. He's happy to play his part.

**

He's also happy to sleep for three days after the final battle. Even if it is on a hard, cement floor.

**

"You should register for school at Beacon Hills," Derek says one morning.

This is not what Isaac expected to hear.

He supposes it makes sense. He needs something to do. Derek doesn't seem to have a job or commitment one way or another, other than building his pack, but now that seems irrelevant. The danger to Beacon Hills has been eliminated. Part of Derek's pack will be gone with Erica and Boyd committed to going away to some prep school. And apparently Jackson got the bite from Derek too—and he'd started rejecting it, another thing Derek failed to mention could happen—but he's not becoming part of the pack. He's going away somewhere else too, and Isaac doesn't know the guy, but hopefully he finds peace or whatever the hell he needs to not become a giant, poisonous lizard anymore.

Derek's promised the Argents, Deaton, and Scott that he won't go and make any random teenage werewolves anymore. It's part of their unofficial peace pact, but he seems willing to make it work. He’s more calm and less on a power trip.

And Isaac... well. Yes. He needs something to do, and he's starting to wish for some normality in his life, after living with his dad, being a runaway, and being a newly-made werewolf fighting for his life and the lives of his new friends. Normal could be good. Going back to school seems the best bet.

It's not hard to get registered at Beacon Hills High School. Apparently his father hasn't reported him as missing—either he doesn't care, or doesn't want to get in shit for it. Isaac's pretty sure it's the former and he tries not to let it hurt. It shouldn't hurt. Hurt has no right left in Isaac's life when it comes to his father.

With that problem out of the way, he breaks into his father's e-mail account, Isaac's mother's name still the password on everything, and e-mails Beacon Hills High School to gather information on what he needs to do. His father never was one to check his e-mail much anymore, especially once he was out of a good job, and Isaac knows how to cover his tracks. With some more electronic conversations, Derek impersonating his father when phone calls are necessary, and Isaac forging his father's signature, they somehow wrangle it. Isaac is officially transferred and becomes a Beacon Hills High School student.

It's something, at least.

**

When Isaac walks into the school on the first day, and he can hear Scott's laugh through the crowd, all the way from the second floor, he realizes what a mistake he's made.

He doesn't know if he can spend an entire year attending the same school as the person he's almost definitely sure he has the soulmark for. The little Scott under his wristband itches sometimes, more than it ever has before, as if it's trying to tell him something. It's been getting harder to ignore, building more and more during their summer fighting some lizard kanima dude.

The thing is... it's a pretty good chance that this is Isaac's Scott. That he's finally met him.

It's just... he doesn't know if it goes both ways.

Apparently that's what happened with Scott and Allison. Scott had her name but Allison had none. They gave it a shot anyway. And things went to hell in a handbasket when Scott got bitten and turned into a werewolf, and her name disappeared from his wrist.

There's no saying a new name came in. Maybe Scott wasn't meant to have a soulmate.

Isaac might not be Scott's at all.

After getting to know Scott a bit... there's no way Isaac is that lucky. His life doesn't work like that.

**

"No way," Stiles says when Isaac walks into his first class on his first day. Stiles looks at Isaac, looks at Scott, looks back at Isaac, and sighs. "Not fair."

Scott smiles crookedly at Isaac, and the name on Isaac's wrist pulses more, a dull throb under the rubber wrist guard.

Yup. Definitely Isaac's Scott.

**

Scott doesn't say anything about it. Not on the first day, not on the second, and not after a week of being at the same school and sharing a number of classes.

Scott's been welcoming to Isaac, but always the one to take an initiative, in a wholly friendly we-went-through-a-lot-this-summer way. Platonically. He talks to Isaac about classes, and invites him to Deaton's while he works. Isaac's not sure he wants to go down that path again, but the nagging thought that it's a way to spend more time with Scott simultaneously scares him and entices him.

Stiles has been reluctant in accepting him and pointedly doesn't ask about Isaac's home life or Derek. He shushes Scott any time Scott tries to ask. Isaac is grateful for it, though he doesn't think it has anything to do with him. At least he's not being asked to talk about his life.

Lydia and Allison are on the fringes of the group. They seem drawn to Scott and Stiles because of their shared experiences and they were all friends before, but both the girls seem to be wading through their own recovery.

Isaac is no expert, but he thinks Lydia is having a hard time of it. She seems dazed sometimes. He’s pretty sure he glimpses her talking to herself outside the student councilor’s office one day. But he doesn’t know her enough to approach her with it, and Scott and Stiles seem convinced she’s fine. Stiles is especially defensive of her. Isaac lets it go.

He has no idea what to do or how to act where Allison is concerned.

Isaac catches her watching him sometimes. He remembers her stabbing him with knives, but that crazy, wild look is long gone. Now, it's somber and intent, but she doesn't regard him as an enemy. He tries not to bristle and does the same.

He's not sure what to make of it.

**

He's not sure what to make of any of it, but at least there's no one trying to kill anyone right now.

**

"You! Tall, lanky, and brooding!" Coach Finstock yells as Isaac walks into the econ classroom. Class hasn't started yet, so it's not like he's late. Isaac raises an eyebrow quizzically. Coach squints at him and crosses his arms. "I remember you from lacrosse the last couple seasons. Played for the Beavers. Why haven't you signed up yet?"

"Um." Isaac coughs to clear his throat. He's been thinking about it, but. "It's not lacrosse season?"

"I won't guarantee you a spot, but you can sign up with intent to try out. And all potential players are required to run cross-country, and you haven't signed up!"

Isaac smirks and juts out his chin. He's been putting forth a cocky, mysterious personna at school. It mostly makes people leave him alone, and makes him feel braver, although sometimes he wishes he could collapse into bed with mental exhaustion.

"Why would I bother if I don't know if I have a spot or not?"

"You won't be allowed one if you don't! And the team needs you!"

"Well, if the team needs me." Isaac shrugs. "I don't know if I want to run. But I'll take a spot in lacrosse if you're—"

"Don't even try it, bud. Sign up! End of discussion. Take a seat!"

The bell rings to signal the start of class, so Isaac doesn't argue. He doesn't want to cause any trouble in school, actually. The last thing he needs is red flags. He takes his seat behind Scott, embarrassed that Scott heard the tall, lanky, and brooding comment.

Of course, Scott promptly turns around and smiles encouragingly. "Isaac, man. You should totally sign up for cross-country! It's fun!"

"Oh, yes," Stiles says sarcastically. "So much fun. Nothing better. At least it trains us for running for our lives."

"Hey!" Finstock yells at them. "Shut your mouths, McCall and Stilinski, I'm trying to teach a lesson here. Or should I'll give you a detention?"

"Sorry, Coach," Scott says easily. "Just trying to talk Isaac into signing up. I want him to, too."

Finstock nods approvingly. "Good, good, but save it for after class. So!"

The class continues, and Isaac can't stop thinking, I want him, while feeling like an idiot. Nothing like taking it out of context to get through a boring class.

**

Isaac stops at Finstock's desk when class is dismissed. "I'll be signing up." There's no question about it, not if Scott wants him there.

"Good, good!" Finstock isn't paying attention to Isaac, as if he'd known this would be happening. "Stop by my office later, I'll give you the form for you parents to sign. Fee is due on Friday."

Isaac frowns. "Fee?"

Signing the form wouldn't be hard, he'll fake his dad’s signature again. At least it'll match what's on file at the school. He forgot about the money part, though. Sports was was the one thing he never had trouble getting his dad to pay for, if it meant a chance at success and glory.

Isaac shifts back and forth on his feet uncomfortably. Derek's given him a roof over his head, and food to eat, but hell if Isaac is going to ask him for anything more.

"Yes, of course there's a fee." Coach glances up and frowns. "Problem with that?"

Isaac shakes his head. Speaking would be a lie and he's been conscious not to do since knowing there's wolves around who can pick up on it.

He leaves the classroom and turns down the hall the opposite way from the beat of Scott and Stiles' hearts, where they're standing nearby, probably waiting for him. Scott could've heard everything, and Isaac can't deal with that right now.

**

Two days later, while Isaac is laying on his bedroll reading his mom's book, her picture held delicately in one hand, Derek comes over to stand near him. When Isaac looks up, Derek looks uncomfortable.

Derek’s been acting a little weird lately, as if building up a guard between himself and Isaac. Himself and the world. He’d come home one night covered with dirt and, while never easy to talk too, even more standoffish.

But whatever happened last week to make Derek weird, he approaches Isaac. "Here. For school." Derek holds out some bills.

Isaac stares. He's been thinking about looking for a job, so he can pay for sports and new clothes, and maybe start paying for his own food. He never once brought it up to Derek.

"Derek, I..." He shakes his head. "You've done enough."

Derek drops the money onto Isaac's sleeping bag, and reaches back. He pulls a phone out of his back pocket, but hands it over to Isaac. "This is for you too. It’s good to have, especially in case of emergencies. Plus, everyone has one. You should too.”

Isaac blinks. Derek frowns and shakes it, as if saying, "Here, you idiot, take it." Isaac does.

"If you need anything," Derek says, "just ask."

Isaac nods, but doesn't say anything else. He doesn't know how to say thank you. He's not good at this talking thing, but he doesn't think Derek is either, and that works for them. Derek nods back and walks away.

Isaac feels incredibly grateful as he starts scrolling through the touchscreen. It already has Derek’s contact in it. Isaac smiles.

**

Another two days later, Isaac hands the form and money over to Finstock before class. Finstock clasps him on the shoulder and welcomes him to the team.

"Cross-country team," Finstock says. "We'll see about lacrosse."

Isaac hears the lie on his heart, and smirks. Finstock's eyes narrow but he tells Isaac to sit the hell down.

He does. Scott high fives him, and Stiles offers a fist bump. They both look incredibly pleased with themselves.

Isaac sits back in his seat and sprawls his long legs out, kicking at Scott's foot gently. "Did you guys talk to Derek?" Isaac asks them. He can't figure out how Derek knew to pick that exact time for even more generosity.

Scott shrugs and Stiles makes a face at Derek's name, like he always does, but Isaac knows. He knows, and he appreciates it.

"Thanks," he says quietly as Finstock yells at the class to shut up.

Scott's already faced the front, but he reaches back and pats Isaac's leg under the desk. Isaac's heart feels like it swells up three times bigger.

His life is going well, and that's awesome. Scott's looking out for him, and Derek's looking out for him, and Isaac is finally starting to feel safe.

**

Isaac gets kidnapped.

He should’ve seen something like this coming, but he was caught off guard, growing too comfortable.

It's less kidnapped and more knocked unconscious while leaving the school and being dragged back inside. It's late one evening after a detention he shouldn't have gotten. Finstock is pissed he has to miss cross-country for it, so gets him to stay afterward to do weights. Isaac doesn't mind; it feels good to help strengthen his newly strong body even more. But as he leaves the school, he's distracted by fears the detention is going to get him discovered, somehow the administration will contact his father to inform him rather than leaving a message on Derek's phone, the actual number that’s on file. He's in such a deep worry about it he doesn't hear the approach behind him until it's too late to react.

When he comes to, he's in the basement of the school. At least, he thinks he is. He's used to the sounds and smells of basements. He's not in a freezer, but he's still in too small a room for his liking.

"Hey," he says, pressing against the door. It won't open, and the walls close in. His breath becomes more labored, panic starting to settle into his chest. "Hey, open up." He jiggles the doorknob, but it doesn't help. Why the hell is there this little room, brick walls with a couple empty wood shelves up high. It's stupid and useless, not good for anything except giving teenaged werewolves panic attacks.

He's about to start pounding on the door when he hears movement outside. It's faint, but there's enough space between the door and the floor that his enhanced hearing picks it up as the sound slips in.

He freezes and tries to listen for more. There's nothing.

"Hey!" He starts pounding on the door with two fists, and he can't breath, it's so small in here. "Let me out!"

He sinks to the floor, curling up in a fetal position, his heart pounding so loud in his ears he can barely hear the increased sound of scuffling under the door. There's more than one set of feet out there, more than one set of fists, and the sounds of duel roars.

It all seems very distant. Sweat drips down Isaac's face, and he's not sure he remembers how to breathe anymore.

The door flings open. Isaac flinches.

Then Scott says, "Isaac. Hey, it's okay. He's gone."

Isaac doesn't know who was out there. He doesn't know who is gone. He does know fresh air rushes into the little room, along with the smell of Scott, and his body relaxes. He doesn't move or get up, stays with his eyes shut, but he nods and doesn't feel afraid anymore. He doesn't have it in him to feel stupid or embarrassed. He's just tired.

"Come on," Scott says, closer, like he's couching beside Isaac. There's a tentative touch to his shoulder. "We can go."

Isaac nods again, but he doesn't move. Scott quietly stays with him until he's ready to get up.

**

Isaac sits in the back of the jeep again, this time alone. Stiles drives. Scott sits in the front beside Stiles. He seemed to understand as they left the school Isaac needs a little space.

Isaac clutches his cell phone in his hand, forgotten when he was in the tiny room so what the use of having it even is, he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t call anyone. Two thirds of the people he’d consider calling are in the car, and Scott is on the phone with Derek, the only other person Isaac would contact, explaining what happened. Isaac listens closely so he knows what happened too. Derek's uncle Peter, who is supposed to be dead, apparently isn’t. They think he took Isaac as a lure for Derek. Instead, Scott showed up and saved the day. Or, well, saved Isaac. Peter got away, though.

"He's still out there. He wasn’t crazy or whatever like before, but he’s… calculating. He didn’t seem surprised I showed up, though ... I don't know. He just laughed and said, 'Oh, so it’s true.' ... I don't know what that means!"

Isaac leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. He doesn't bother trying to focus on Derek's tinny voice coming out of the phone, or pay much attention to Scott's words. He lets Scott's voice wash over him. Even in Scott's annoyance with Derek and Peter and all things Hale, his voice calms Isaac.

Scott announces they're on the way back with Isaac and hangs up.

"He's so frustrating," Scott says, sighing.

"Tell me about it," Stiles mutters sourly. He turns on the windshield wipers against the drops of light rain. He speaks up. "Isaac, are you sure you want to go back there?"

"It's where I live."

There's a pointed silence, but neither in the front say anything else. Stiles eventual says, "Those fucking Hales, man. They're messed up."

"I can't believe Peter's back. Like, what, did he crawl out of the grave? Did some magic mojo resurrect him? Derek refused to say but I think he knows something. He's protecting something, or someone."

Isaac thinks about Derek coming home all dirty and muddy, but doesn't say anything. It feels like a betrayal to his alpha, but part of him wants to tell Scott. But Isaac will wait and talk to Derek, as hard as that can be, and see if he can get more information. If he can make sense of it all.

If he can make sense of anything.

**

He doesn't get a chance to talk to Derek. Derek doesn't let him have it.

The moment he walks into the loft, he notices how dim it is, moreso than usual. Dim and creepy and angry. But he can tell Derek is there.

Derek steps out of the little kitchenette and says, "You need to go."

Isaac pauses. "Go?"

"Go. Get. Get out of Beacon Hills. Run, Isaac, and don't look back."

Isaac wants to say, I'm not a runner but they both know that's not true, and it'll hold no weight against Derek's words.

Instead, Isaac says, "I don't understand. I can't go—where would I go?"

"I don't know. I don't care. You just need to leave."

"But, Derek—"

"Go. Now!"

It's a deep roar, terrifying in its ferocity. Not only that, Derek throws a glass Isaac didn't even notice he was holding. It hits the wall two feet from Isaac. Isaac knows Derek could have hit him straight in the face if he wanted, and he didn't, but the shattering of it has Isaac scrambling back anyway.

Isaac hates broken glass.

Turns out he really is a runner.

**

It's pouring when he arrives at the McCall house.

He's been here a couple times before. He's met Mrs. McCall a couple times, too. Thanks to kanima related events, she knows about Scott being a werewolf. Isaac assumes she knows about him too. It's made Isaac wonder what his mother would think about what's happened to him, but he tries to push it out of his mind. It doesn't matter, in the grand scheme of things, but he hopes she'd be cool about it like Scott's mom.

He's thrown off when Mrs. McCall answers the front door. He should’ve climbed up the side of the house and tried to get in Scott's window.

"Isaac. Hello." She looks him over, takes in his drowned rat appearance, and opens the door further. "Come, step inside."

He does. Scott's at the top of the stairs, looking down and smiling. "Hey. Didn't expect to see you so soon."

Isaac blurts out, "Derek kicked me out." He winces and steps back toward the open door. "You know, never mind, I should go—"

"Oh no you don't," Mrs. McCall says, grabbing his damp shirt and tugging him inside, closing the door.

Scott jumps down half a flight of stairs and lands cleanly beside them. "Derek what?" Scott sounds angry. "Why?"

Isaac shrugs. He doesn't know why.

"But he can't just kick you out."

"Pretty sure he can." Isaac sounds glum even to himself. "Look, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here." He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. "I can go."

"You don't have to go," Mrs. McCall says. "In fact, I'm insisting you don't. We have a spare room. You’re more than welcome to it for tonight. I'll find you some dry clothes."

Part of him wants to protest more, but then he realizes, yes, he did come here seeking help. He came here because... well, he couldn't think of anywhere else to go. And he feels better inside a warm, dry house and with two sets of McCall eyes watching him closely.

Finally, he nods. "Thank you." The gratitude oozes out of him and he probably sounds like an idiot, but he's so relieved he could cry.

He doesn't, but he's long learned not to.

**

That night when he takes off his guard, he's curled up in a warm bed. His belly is full of homemade food. He feels calm and safe for the first time in a long time.

The tiny little Scott on his wrist seems to stand out more sharply than it ever has before.

He has no idea what's going to happen but he feels... content, knowing he's under his soulmate’s roof.

Isaac has to decide how exactly he's going to bring it up, because it might not be mutual. This has gone on long enough and Scott deserves the truth. Isaac feels it like a weight over his heart, has no idea how this is going to go, but at least he knows he has a friend watching his back. If nothing else, he has that, and he doesn’t think it’ll go away any time soon.

**

He sleeps late. It must be the soft mattress.

But there's no school, so the McCalls have let him sleep in, it seems.

Truthfully, he needs it. It’s been an exhausting couple of months.

Around noon, he hears Scott coming into the house and calling to his mother, and there's a smell of food drifting up the stairs that won't let Isaac sleep anymore. He comes downstairs, dressed in the gray sweatpants and blue shirt Mrs. McCall dug up from somewhere to lend him.

"Morning!" Scott smiles brightly at Isaac while Isaac stands awkwardly at the entrance to the kitchen. Scott’s hands are stained with grease and he smells like gasoline. He must’ve been working on his bike. Isaac nods in greeting and gives half a smile.

"I found that on the porch this morning," Mrs. McCall says. She's at the counter cutting vegetables, but she nods her chin toward the kitchen table. "Is it yours?"

It's his backpack, which he'd left at Derek's as he ran out. Before he can think about what he's doing, he goes to it and opens it urgently. He finds the novel packed neatly on top. He pulls it out and flips through the pages, sighs in relief when he sees the two pictures in there. He closes the book carefully, and when he glances up, both Mrs. McCall and Scott are watching him.

"Scott tells me you're from Fairvale," Mrs. McCall says. "But you've been staying with Derek since you got to Beacon Hills?"

"Mostly. I..." Isaac clears his throat. "I ran away." He figures they both worked that out but it feels good to say it out loud to them.

"What about your parents? Obviously they don’t know where you are."

Isaac shakes his head. "My mom died." His voice cracks a little when he says it, so he shuts up.

Mrs. McCall's face softens. "And your dad?"

Isaac shakes his head again, but adds bitterly, "He didn’t." He looks up sharply. "Ever since my mom... he's not a very nice guy."

"Isaac," Scott starts, "what... did he..."

Scott seems to be struggling with how to work it, what to ask. Isaac has no interest giving details, but he wants to make one thing clear. "I am not going back. Derek, last night, he told me to keep running. Get away from Beacon Hills. But..." Isaac trails off and frowns. He brushes two fingers over his wrist guard. He doesn't look at them, but he knows both McCalls are watching. "I don't want to leave."

"No one is saying you have to," Scott says fiercely. "We're not going to send you back to anyone who is hurting you."

Mrs. McCall puts a hand on his shoulder, probably to remind him to keep calm. "Isaac, we'll help you figure it out, okay?"

He just nods again. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore. But there's something in his gut, swirling and twirling and excited, that doesn't want to leave the McCall house. He tries to tell himself not to get his hopes up, but this is the closest thing he's had to hope in quite some time, and the feeling is intoxicating.

**

Isaac doesn't bring up the soulmate thing. Yet.

He does take a couple days getting used to living in a house. An actual house with a warm, comfortable feeling to it. Living with someone else close to his age. Living with a mom. If Isaac is any upheaval in routines of the McCall's, they don't let it show. They act as though there’s always been a tall, homeless teenage werewolf living with them.

He knows he shouldn't let his guard down, and he doesn't exactly. He lends a helping hand when he can, but keeps quiet and stays out of the way like he did at the loft. It's easier now that he has a room he can retreat to.

Mrs. McCall doesn't give any indication how long he can stay, but she isn't making any noise about him leaving either. Both the McCalls give him space but also make him feel welcome too.

It's nice.

After a handful of nights and not being asked to leave, he unpacks his backpack. He puts away his clothes. He sets his mother's novel on the bedside table.

He carefully leans his two pictures, the one of his mom and the one of his brother, both soft around the edges, against the lamp on the table. He likes that they're the last image he sees before he switches out the lights.

**

One day, he comes home from school to find his little pile of clothes he'd put in the laundry basket cleaned and folded up on his bed. There are a few new pieces there too, a couple pairs of jeans in his size, some plain t-shirts, and a gray and black cardigan that looks like it belongs on someone's grandpa. It's soft and warm and Isaac instantly loves it.

Then he sees the two photos, still on the bedside table but placed into frames. Nothing big, nothing expensive, probably something Mrs. McCall had stashed in the house, but nonetheless make Isaac's heart want to burst.

He's awkward around her when he next sees her, but he smiles a little shyly and mumbles thank-you. She beams at him, pats his shoulder, and tells him to eat his soup.

**

About a week after Derek kicked Isaac out, Derek's hovering at the edges of the lacrosse field, watching as Scott, Isaac, and Stiles leave the gymnasium and head to the parking lot.

Scott and Stiles glare at Derek. The tension on the air is almost palpable.

"I'll see you guys later," Isaac says, and starts walking toward Derek.

"Isaac, wait." Scott's frowning. "Are you sure? Do you want me to come with you?"

"And me," Stiles adds. "I'm always up for giving Derek a piece of my mind." Isaac does not doubt this.

"It's fine. Honestly," Isaac says when Scott's frown deepens. "Really. I'll find my way home."

Scott relaxes minutely when Isaac says 'home' and Stiles rolls his eyes, but grabs Scott's arm and starts to pull him back. "Call if you need," Scott adds.

Isaac nods but makes his way toward Derek. Derek meets him halfway at a picnic table, and without talking about it, they both take a seat on the top of it beside each other, resting their feet on the bench.

After a couple moments of silence, Isaac speaks. "I heard you were, uh, strongly told to apologize to me." Stiles gleefully told anyone who'd listen what a fucknut Derek has been over the whole situation, and how Stiles went to loft to give Derek a piece of his mind.

Isaac suspects Stiles has reasons beyond a loyalty to Isaac that spurned this; mostly a loyalty to Scott, but also his weird hate/less-hate relationship he has with Derek.

"I didn't need to be told," Derek says dryly, but he nods. "But, yes, I do. You deserve it. I shouldn't have told you to leave the way I did."

"But you still think I should, don't you?"

Derek sighs. "Erica and Boyd have. I talk to them weekly. They're safe. I can't guarantee that for you anymore."

"Because of your crazy uncle?"

Derek frowns. "He's not crazy. He's..." Derek trails off and shrugs. "Family."

"Family can be crazy." Isaac knows this as fact.

"I don't know what to do about it. About him," Derek says. "You're not going to be in danger because of him anymore."

"But?"

"But this is Beacon Hills. I'm not sure anyone is safe."

Isaac is starting to get that. He curls his fingers around his wrist guard, and he notices Derek mirrors the gesture on his own wrist.

"I can't leave Beacon Hills. I'm not going to," Isaac tells him.

Derek's already nodding, like he knows. "I can't either. I won’t be. But I think… I know staying with the McCalls is what’s best for you.”

“I didn’t plan on leaving,” Isaac says. He shrugs. “But we’re still pack, right?”

Derek’s smile is small but true. “We are.”

“Then we’ll work it out,” Isaac says. He hops off the picnic table. Scott and Stiles are actual worried mother hens who have gone nowhere, sitting on the far side of the parking lot in the Jeep. He can catch a ride home with them. “I’ll see you around, Derek.”

It feels like a transition, but one less abrupt and scary than being a runaway or being turned into a werewolf. Isaac could get used to this.

**

"We need to talk."

Isaac startles from where he's leaning against the railing on the porch at the McCall house. He'd been in such deep thought about his conversation with Derek, his past conversations with his mother, and trying to figure out how to broach the subject of soulmates with Scott, that he hadn't heard Scott approach behind him. Some werewolf Isaac is.

"Sure," Isaac says. "What's up?"

Scott takes off his wrist guard.

Isaac freezes; his body doesn't move, immobile as he watches Scott with wide eyes, all air trapped in his lungs, and he could swear his heart stops beating.

Scott steps closer, holds out his arm, and turns his wrist up.

Isaac.

That's his printing. That's Isaac's name printed in his small but loopy lettering.

All the air whooshes out of him. He takes a step closer, his hand automatically coming up to touch but he hesitates, stopping his hand in the air.

Scott's smile is soft. "It's okay."

Isaac's palm slips under Scott's wrist so it rests lightly in his hand. Isaac traces the name with the index finger of his free hand lightly, barely a feather's touch, much like he does for Scott's name on his wrist late at night when he feels safe and alone enough to do so.

"It came in a couple of weeks before I saw you and Erica in the woods," Scott offers. "Sounds like probably around the time you were bitten."

Isaac nods, but doesn't look up at Scott yet. He can't take his eyes off his own name. He swallows around the lump in his throat—after thinking for weeks, months, that he should say something, all his words have escaped him.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," Scott says.

This does make Isaac look up. He shakes his head. "You don't have to apologize. Believe me."

"I want to explain, though. I mean... I rushed into it last time, when I first met Allison when I had her name. And... and even if I hadn't been bitten and lost her, that still might not have been the best choice. I think I would have messed it up anyway. And I didn't want to do that again. But I knew it was you. I mean, I was pretty sure I knew."

Isaac realizes he's the one who isn't confirming it's mutual. After all his worry it might be the other way around, he wonders if Scott's the one who's anxious about it. Isaac reluctantly lets go of him, but it's so he can take off his wrist guard.

It's the first time anyone has seen it, other than his father, when Isaac was thirteen years and two weeks old. But he doesn't feel afraid or vulnerable. He knows without a doubt this is what's right.

Holding out his wrist, Scott's smile confirms it.

"It's always been you," Isaac tells him.

"I'm sorry you had to wait so long," Scott says. He reaches out for Isaac's wrist, but gently clasps his whole hand around it. He tugs lightly so Isaac steps closer to him.

"I'm sorry you lost your first name." He truly is. Of course there's a selfish part of Isaac that's glad, but there's a part of him upset Scott ever had to go through such pain.

Scott shakes his head, but Isaac doesn't know if he's shaking off the condolences or if he just doesn't want to talk about it. Isaac wouldn't blame him for either.

"We both went through a lot," Scott says. "But we're here now."

He wraps one arm around Isaac's waist and the other slides over his shoulder in a cross-body hug. Isaac mirrors him, and though Isaac has inches on Scott, it helps their bodies slot together ever so close. Scott presses his face against Isaac's neck.

"You're so tall," Scott says, lips brushing against Isaac's skin. Isaac shivers. "Gonna have to get use to that."

"Gonna have to get used to a lot," Isaac says. He's never been with anyone, not with any girls and definitely not with any guys, and being this physically close to someone, even if it was platonic—although this is decisively not—is something foreign to Isaac. Part of him wants to squirm and shift away in discomfort but a bigger part of him is determined not to let Scott go now that he has him.

Scott's hands rub soothing circles over Isaac's back and Isaac's body melts with it. He leans down more so his head and resting against Scott's shoulder. Isaac sighs, content.

"Well," Mrs. McCall says from behind them. Isaac and Scott startle apart, looking at her guiltily. Her eyebrows are raised. "This is something we're going to have to talk about, isn't it?"

Scott groans and rolls his eyes, and Isaac has an impulse to run in terror. Scott's hand slipping into his keeps him grounded right where he is, just like Isaac always imagined it would.

Everything suddenly looks up.

**

Things are heating up in Beacon Hills again. Two sacrificial murders are discovered in the area. There's rumors of an Alpha pack circling in close, with their sights on Scott, though no one seems to know why.

And in the middle of it all, this new supernatural crisis starting to wreck havoc on Beacon Hills... Isaac's father dies.

Sheriff Stilinski tracks Isaac down at the McCalls and informs Isaac his father got drunk, fell down and suffered a terrible head injury, and died before anyone found him two days later.

Isaac doesn't know how to process this. Scott sits at his side, clutching his hand tightly. Mrs. McCall stands next to the sheriff, arms crossed over her chest. She watches Isaac carefully.

“He used to beat me,” Isaac says out loud, for the first time. Mrs. McCall closes her eyes and looks terribly sad, and Scott makes a wounded sound. They had to have known, he would never have let them believe otherwise. “He used to lock me up in the broken freezer. I ran away so he couldn’t anymore. And now he’s gone.”

He’s not sad. He feels a tremendous loss settle over him, one that remembers what life was like before his mother died and his father's life followed, but one that quickly flitters away and is replaced by relief and freedom.

"What's going to happen to me?" Isaac finally asks. It's his only real worry. "I don't have any other family." He had no one else to run to, or he probably would've sooner rather than ending up where he did. But this is where he is, and he hopes he doesn't have to leave. "Does this mean... am I going to be put into the foster system? Do I have to go back to Fairvale?"

"What? No!" Scott exclaims. "No. Mom, no, we can't let that happen to him."

Mrs. McCall puts up her hand. "Slow down, Scott. I will start the paperwork to obtain legal custody until Isaac's an adult."

Isaac looks up, surprised. "You can do that?"

She smiles kindly. "You're my son's soulmate. Exceptional status. We can certainly try."

The sheriff nods. "We'll hook you up with the right social worker and see if we can get Isaac approved to temporarily stay here until all the right paperwork goes through."

"But," Isaac says, unsure, "we haven't even been legally declared yet."

"We'll set up an appointment first thing in the morning." She smiles ruefully. "We should have weeks ago when you two confirmed it with each other, but. Well."

"Beacon Hills," Scott says with a shrug. "We've been busy."

"I was going to say school, lacrosse, and work," she says dryly, "but, yes, 'Beacon Hills' covers it."

Isaac sits in stunned silence. It's hard to believe, with everything that's happened in the past half year, he's going to get the one thing he's wanted since he was thirteen—his soulmate, permanently. Except.

"I mean," Isaac says, turning to Scott, "if that's what you want. Me being here." Scott mentioned before not rushing into things, and they haven't been, but having Isaac as a legal part of the family could be construed as such.

Scott rolls his eyes. "Of course I do." He frowns. "Why, don't you?"

"Yes!" Isaac says loudly, full of intent. Scott grins, and Isaac lets out an embarrassed sigh. Quieter, just for Scott, "I don't want to leave you."

"You won't have to," Scott says firmly, leaning in closer and putting his forehead against Isaac's temple. "You're stuck with me."

Sheriff Stilinski coughs awkwardly. "Well, all right then. I should go. Isaac, my condolences."

Isaac shrugs one shoulder, jostling Scott around a little. He doesn't need condolences, but says anyway, "Thanks."

Mrs. McCall walks the sheriff to the door, and Isaac hears them standing on the porch, speaking quietly. He doesn't bother focusing on what they're saying, instead paying attention to Scott. Scott's hand in his, Scott's lips pressing against his cheek, Scott’s arm slipping around Isaac's shoulder.

Isaac angles his body toward Scott's. "You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely," Scott says. "You?"

Isaac nods. He cups his hand against Scott's cheek, his thumb rubbing the soft skin over his cheekbone. "I'm glad I found you."

"I'm glad we found each other."

Isaac's thumb moves to trace over that crooked grin before he leans in for a kiss. A thrill shivers through his entire body, the same as it always does when they kiss. Scott's mouth is already familiar, sweet and open and fitting perfectly with Isaac’s. When they pull apart, they rest their foreheads against each other.

"You and me against the world, Isaac. You and me."

"You and me, Scott."

Isaac could get used to that.