It doesn't make sense. Derek turned him, saved him, took him away from the never-ending saga of pain and misery that his life had become. And no, his Alpha wasn't soft and cuddly and into feelings, but he was pack. He was family. More of a family than Isaac had had in years. And it didn't matter where they were living- disused train cars or abandoned buildings, or empty warehouses- because Derek was home.
Derek would never hurt him. Not just out of the blue like that, abandoning him and twisting a knife through his heart, so much worse than the searing pain of claws on his skin or Allison's blades sliding through flesh. Because those wounds healed, fading almost as soon as they were made. But this? This hurt just kept building. And Derek knew- because he understood Isaac on a level that no one else did.
Isaac kept hoping that there was a reason, an explanation, because Derek wouldn't do this. Couldn't mean it. But no explanation was forthcoming, and by the time Derek hurled the glass at his head and just stood there watching impassively as the shower of shards rained down over his face, Isaac shattered as well. He turned tail and ran, out into the night and the deluge. Just like Derek wanted.
He ran until he stumbled and fell, collapsing against an empty dumpster in an alleyway and letting sobs wrack his body. He cried, but it was washed away by the pouring rain, cold on his face, chasing away the hot tears almost before they fell. He pulled himself to his feet and staggered on, having no idea where to go. He wasn't even sure when he lost his sweater- he was already soaked to the skin, and when he started to come back to himself in the middle of the park, his arms were bare and it was gone. He had stopped hurting so much, just felt numb, his thoughts edged with disbelief and denial, but also the clear conviction that he couldn't go back to Derek. Because Derek no longer wanted him. Pain jack-knifed through him again at the thought.
He tried to think of other places to go- places where he could at least get out of the rain. But he was cold, and wet, and every place he could think of was full of memories that dug at him right now like rusty nails. And none of them could offer even the comfort of even so much as a blanket, or dry clothes. And then, an image flashed through his mind, bringing with it a sense of warmth and comfort, and the closest thing to safety he could imagine just now.
It seemed like the best thing he could come up with, so he turned and headed in the direction of Scott's house, his shoes squishing water and wet jeans slapping against his legs as he ran.
He debated knocking, knew that he should, but he could hear two heartbeats in the house, and didn't want to chance running into Scott's mother- he didn't think he could handle explaining this to someone who had never been pack. Scott was up in his room, Isaac could tell, and it was the simplest thing in the world to slip inside through the unlocked door and make his way up the stairs.
At Scott's door, he does knock, because he knows he can't just barge in completely unannounced. And sure, Scott thinks it's his Mom, but he says come in, and Isaac counts that as an invitation, so he opens the door and just stands there, soaking wet, his clothes plastered to his body and lands on the first thing he can think of to say, which is,
"I was wondering if I could… ask you a favor." And he can read the confusion and questions in Scott's eyes, even as it shifts to something softer, full of compassion. He knows that Scott is going to ask, so he cuts to the chase and volunteers the information. Full disclosure. "Derek kicked me out. Told me to get lost. I don't know why. And I didn't have anywhere to go, so I just… came here."
Scott doesn't say anything at first, just stands up and takes a step toward him. Isaac tenses, because it's his default response, but he forces himself to relax again, because Scott is only reaching up and pulling him into a one-armed hug, full of sympathy and understanding, and Isaac just breaks. He finds himself curling into Scott's body, burying his face in the place where Scott's shoulder meets his neck, and just folding in on himself, because Scott smells like comfort and warmth and Pack, which is the most important thing. And Scott barely even hesitates, just wraps his arms around Isaac, ignoring the wet clothes and the way that the water is soaking into his own clothing and just hugs Isaac. It's exactly what Isaac needs.
They stay like that way, way longer than is socially appropriate for normal human beings, but Scott makes no move to shift away, and Isaac is immeasurably grateful that he can just stand here, drinking in the peaceful comfort that comes with touch.
"It will be alright." Scott tells him. "Derek… there has to be some reason for it. Probably a really a really dumb one, since it's Derek. It'll be okay. We'll figure it out later. I promise. But for now… we should probably get you some dry clothes."
Isaac nods, inhaling the comforting scent that is Scott and making no move to disengage. Scott rests his hand on his head, letting his fingers tangle in Isaac's damp hair while his other hand plucks insistently at his shirt.
"Come on." He admonishes. "Change now, snuggling later."
It startles Isaac to realize that it's exactly what he's been doing- snuggling into Scott. It's more startling to realize that it's exactly what he needs- not just his wolf, which has always loved pack and cuddling and ridiculous puppy piles with Boyd and Erica and sometimes even Derek- but he himself, as a human, who always used to shy away from touch as a conditioned response.
It takes a lot of effort to pull himself away, and when he does, the sense of being alone slams into him again with an almost physical force. He can hear thoughts echoing uselessly in his head, tries to shut them out. Scott is rummaging in a drawer for clothing, and Isaac forces himself to be calm, to not listen. Scott hands him a t-shirt and a pair of boxers and turns away again to strip off his damp t-shirt and replace it with a soft grey one.
Isaac just stands stock still as the ghostly voices get even louder. You're not good enough. No one wants you. No one likes you. Not even your Alpha likes you. Not worthy. Useless. Alone. Abandoned. You deserve it. Pathetic. Inadequate. Garbage. Freezer. Go to the basement. Worthless piece of trash.
He's shaking, his fingers clenching, nails digging into the palms of his hands and he knows that if he continues on like this, he'll lose control and start to shift. Even as he thinks it though, Scott is there, his hand warm on Isaac's shoulder even through the wet fabric, and he's talking to him, and Isaac actually lets himself listen.
"Isaac. Hey, Isaac, snap out of it. It'll be okay. We'll figure it out. Derek's an ass sometimes," he checks himself, "Okay, more like all of the time. But we will Figure. It. Out. And you'll be alright, and no one is going to bother you tonight. Are you with me?"
Isaac nods, fighting back his demons, which is easier now that Scott is touching him, grounding him, holding him to reality, and he is freaked out as fuck that he's that close to the edge, and so, so grateful that Scott is here.
"Yeah." He manages. "I'm with you." He tries to muster up a smile, and guesses from the way that Scott's eyebrows climb up his face for a second that he doesn't actually succeed. But he's trying, and that counts for something.
Miraculously, Scott seems to get it, because he doesn't step away again. Instead, he reaches out and grabs Isaac's shirt, hauling the wet garment up his body and over his head, tossing it to the floor where it lands with a wet slap and is promptly ignored. Next is Isaac's belt, which joins his shirt, and then his jeans which Isaac extricates his feet from while bracing himself on Scott's shoulders.
It's all too much, standing here while Scott fucking undresses him, touches him, comforts him, and the intimacy of it is momentarily crushing, because he's realizing just how close Scott is, and how easy it would be to lean over and kiss him, just press their lips together and feel that spark of connection, that brilliant explosion of happiness before Scott inevitably pushes him away, calling him disgusting and stupid.
What stops him isn't that fear, or even the fact that Scott smells a little bit like Allison. It's the way that Scott looks at him with rare certainty and smiles this tiny smile as he pulls Isaac in for a gentle hug as he picks up on what Isaac is thinking.
"Not that I'm not flattered," he says easily, "But…we both know that I'm not actually the one you want." And Scott kind of does kiss him them, pressing his lips to Isaac's temple in a way that conveys friend and acceptance and no pressure.
The thing is that Scott is right, and it makes him feel so utterly helpless. Because the person that he does want to kiss, the person who he's been falling for- for what seems like forever- is the same person who just threw a glass at his head and kicked him out into the rainy night without so much as a second thought. He leans his head on Scott's shoulder, suddenly exhausted by the knowledge that Scott has figured it out.
"I'm sorry." He says, and hates how pathetic he sounds.
"Hey." Scott nudges Isaac's head up again so he can look him in the eye. "Don't apologize, Isaac. You've got nothing to be sorry about."
"I can go, if you want." Isaac offers lamely. Scott sort of rolls his eyes.
"Like I'd want you to leave." Scott says derisively, like it's the lamest idea in the world. And, Isaac realizes with a rush of pleasure, to Scott it actually is. Because he's bizarrely cool with this turn of events, and he really isn't going to kick Isaac out because he's inconvenient or because he kind of hit on him. He just sort of…accepts things, in a way that is totally alien and unfamiliar to Isaac, but that he wishes he could emulate. "Just… But on some dry clothes and come to bed. You look exhausted." Scott continues.
He turns away then to give Isaac some privacy, and to pull down the comforter on his bed. Isaac stalls for a second, then snatches the borrowed boxers and trades them for his own with practice born of years of locker room quick changes. Then Scott is sliding in under the covers, leaving half the bed for Isaac, the comforter folded down in invitation.
"Get the light?" he asks, nodding to the desk lamp which is still casting its warm glow throughout the room. Isaac does, and the room plunges into darkness, though it's still easy enough for him to see, given his enhanced vision.
Scott takes one of the pillows and slides it over, making a place for Isaac. The invitation to share is eminently clear, and Isaac is insanely grateful that he won't have to be alone tonight. Even if it means a ton of uncertainty about what this is.
Tentatively, he slides under to covers, stretching his legs out under the cool sheets. He's not sure how carefully he should be attempting to keep his own space, so he's cautious, until Scott reaches over and pulls him closer, settling his hand on Isaac's hip, his hand warm on bare skin.
The minute they're touching again, Isaac feels the nervousness and uncertainty in him settle a bit, replaced with a feeling of contentment and safety. He wants more of it, craves it, and so he shifts until his body is pressed against Scott's, with his cheek pillowed on the dark-haired boy's shoulder, breathing in the scent of boy and wolf and peace. They lay like that for several minutes, but it's still not enough.
"Can I…" Isaac asks softly, sliding his hand across Scott's torso."
"Mmmhmm." Scott murmurs in sleepy contentment, his agreement rumbling in his throat and ruffling through Isaac's hair. Scott's shirt has ridden up, and Isaac's fingers find a patch of warm, smooth skin instead of cotton, and it feels right, so he tugs at the shirt until his arm is pressed, fingertip to elbow against bare skin. He moves around a bit, trying to get comfortable until in the end, his legs are twined with Scott's, and he's wrapped around the other boy like some sort of strange starfish.
But he feels comfortable and content and strangely happy despite everything that the day has brought as he follows Scott blissfully into sleep.