Title: Journey Wide and Journey Slow

Unconnected Shorts bridging Part 2 with Part 4 (Yet to be written) of this series. Each chapter will be it's own complete story featuring story lines within the larger series, and will be connected to the others. They may be posted out of order. I will be posting each story/chapter as they are finished. Warnings/Tags will be updated with each chapter and will apply to the whole work.

3-1 Talk at the Fence

Scott jerks awake to a crack of thunder and a whimper. He rolls onto his side, blinking in the darkness to find Prada shaking in the small space between his front and Lydia's back. Lydia's completely out, face slack and pressed into Allison's shoulder. Isaac's awake by the door, gazing out the front windows.

There is only one entrance to the ranger station. It is a low concrete building with a tall sturdy fence completely surrounding it. With the approaching storm they had pulled back their constant watch to inside the building. Isaac turns at the shifting of Scott's body in the darkness, eyes flashing blue in the low light. It's still startling to see this new change, and each time it reminds Scott of just how bad things are now. It makes him want to sit down with Isaac and make sure he's ok; some instinct as Alpha and as friend wanting to check in with the Beta.

Instead, Scott nods at him, quickly turning back to the dog when a second flash of light fills the room, followed only seconds later by the crack of harsh thunder. Prada whines; high pitched and scared. Scott reaches for her, pulling her to his chest in comfort. She trembles against him, fur soft and warm against his bare skin. Scott moves quietly, climbing to his feet. Kira shifts behind him in reaction and he crouches back down.

"Scott?" she whispers.

"Go back to sleep. I'm just doing a check," he whispers; reaching over and stroking a lock of dark hair out of her face. She makes a grouchy sound and rolls into his warm spot on their makeshift pallet, stealing his sweatshirt pillow as her own. When Scott turns around Isaac is hiding a smirk, turning back to the window.

It's a perilous trek through the room in the dark, stepping over Stiles sprawled legs, and dodging around Derek's still (barely moving even to breathe) form takes some concentrated effort. If you get within even a few inches of him he wakes up. Scott wishes he knew how he does that. He pauses to look down at Derek stretched out parallel to Stiles. He's close but not touching. There's just enough room between them to let Stiles roll flailing in place without smacking into Derek's body and not an inch more. Scott is tempted for just half a second to nudge Stiles a few inches to the left. One more whirlwind flip and all of that tension brewing between them might finally be dealt with once and for all. But instead Scott makes careful movements around both of them and comes to stand beside Isaac at the window, Prada still trembling in his arms.

"How many?" he asks, voice low. Isaac grimaces.

"Four. A few more and I'll go out to take care of it. I don't want to let too many collect out there. It will draw the attention of more." Isaac shifts his weight and looks back out the window. The rain is slowing to a drizzle, a lull in the storm as the thunderstorm moves closer.

"You should get some sleep. I'll take the rest of last watch." Scott shifts the dog in his arms, reaching up to grip Isaac's shoulder. Isaac moves away and Scott freezes mid-reach.

"I'm fine. It's my turn. Just go back to bed." Scott stares at him in confusion.

Prada makes a whining sound, and wiggles in Scott's grip. He turns away and sets her down, watches her beeline for the door and scratch at it gently with a tiny paw. She makes another high whiney sound and turns once in a circle. Derek picks his head up, eyes glowing bright blue in the dark.

"It's just Prada, go back to sleep," Scott says. Derek blinks a few times slowly before putting his head back down, eyes shutting. Scott turns back to Isaac, frowning. "I'll take her out." He picks up the spear they had jerry rigged from a broom handle, a sharp knife and a lot of duct tape and heads for the door. He unbolts it and eases it open, stepping out cautiously, before turning and whistling for Prada. If the dog is anything then she is well trained, and she waits for the whistle before stepping through the threshold and out into the dark. Scott looks around, counts the not-dead gurgling and moaning at the fence, and extends his senses out to the nearby area. There are more in the woods off to the South. Heading vaguely in their direction. Looking down, Scott watches Prada pick her way along the cement slab sniffing at the wet overgrown grass growing along the edges. She never gets within five feet of the fence.

Scott doesn't turn around when he hears Isaac step out behind him, closing the door quietly behind himself. Checking Prada one more time Scott turns his attention fully to the fence. Holding his breath against the stench he steps up closer. The things press harder against the fence, hands clawing and mouths gurgling louder at his approach. He steps forward and, aiming carefully, begins stabbing the creatures pressing their rotting grotesque faces against the wire. Their eagerness makes it easy to aim. Scott knows that someday all this gruesome death and violence is going to catch up with them all. But not today. He's put down two of them before Isaac speaks.

"I'm not weak you know," he says. Scott stabs a third through the eye, wincing as he yanks his blade free and watches it drop unmoving to the ground. He turns around to face Isaac.

"I know you're not," he replies, honestly confused. Isaac steps forward. His shoulders are all tense, and he's moving with agitation, like a caged animal.

"Then why do you keep treating me like I am? You're treating me like I'm not capable. I know that I fucked up in Town. I let Derek get bit, I almost left him there. I almost let Stiles kill him. I fucking encouraged him to do it! Derek almost died and it was my fault! I get that!" Isaac says. "But I'm not weak!" His voice raises the longer he talks until his voice is rough and strained, and Scott can hear the undead in the forest turn, start stumbling in their direction.

"You aren't weak, Isaac. But you are human. We may be werewolves but just like Kira and Lydia, and Derek we are still human. We're 18 years old, and the whole world is in complete fucking chaos. You're my friend, you're my beta. My betas aren't weak." Scott takes great pride in his friends and his family, but the alpha in him takes great pride in the strength of their pack.

"If I'm not weak," and Isaac spits the word out this time like it's a disgusting offensive word he can't stand, "then why are you treating me like I am?"

"I don't treat you like you're," Isaac cuts him off.

"Yes, you do! You treat me like I'm going to break. Like I can't be trusted to do what needs to be done. You're always checking up on me. I said I would take care of them!" he shouts this last part, pointing at the last body still pressed to the fence, at the three that just stepped out of the forest across the road. "So why are you out here at three in the morning doing it yourself!?"

"I check on you because you're my responsibility. And I care about you," Scott says stepping closer. Prada trots a long beside him staying close. "I know you aren't sleeping. Mom has to practically guilt you into eating. You've never been exactly talkative and now you barely speak at all. You're mine to take care of, Isaac. You all are. You're my pack. You're my family. If you're tired I want to help you rest. If you're scared I want to make you feel safer. If killing these… these things!" Scott says gesturing aggressively behind himself, "means that you don't have too then I will!" Scott's more upset than he means to be and he feels his eyes flare red when he looks at Isaac, the urge to protect and lead making his heart clench in his chest.

"Scott," Isaac says softly, confused.

"You have to let me, okay?" Scott says. "The pack is strong, but we're stronger together. We have to trust each other. And I trust you Isaac. As much as I trust anyone. I trust you with…" He frowns looking down and away. Isaac doesn't say anything he just steps closer wordlessly, studying Scott's tightly clenched jaw.

"I thought you were over that. That you were good with things now?" When Scott doesn't reply Isaac grimaces, his anger flaring for a newer more painful reason. "It's her choice. You don't get a say. You've got Kira. Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because it's Allison," Scott says like that should be enough. And it is really. Isaac gets it. "Isaac she was the first… everything. She was everything for a long time. And part of me always thought we were meant for each other. That eventually..." He drops his voice. "I was in love with her. And I do love Kira. She's amazing and I wouldn't give her up for anything. And I am happy that you and Allison have each other. I am. But part of me still aches over it. It might always just a little." They stood in awkward silence for a few more minutes until the sound of the approaching undead pulled their attention back to the fence. Isaac pulled the hunting knife out of the sheath on the back of his belt. Prada bolted for the doorway

"I'll take the ones on the right, you get the ones on the left?" Scott asks. Isaac doesn't bother voicing a reply. He just steps up to the fence and braces himself for the coming onslaught.