Disclaimer: Teen Wolf, the concept, and its characters are not my property nor will they ever be. As much as that may sadden me, I've learned to live with it.

Days of Dust

"You're not actually coming with us."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement of fact. It wasn't an accusation or a judgement. It was a simple statement of fact.

Isaac sighed. He turned slowly. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he kept his gaze on the floor of the tiny room he called home. He shrugged.

"I haven't decided yet."

"Is that why you talked to Scott about it?"

Isaac's head snapped up. "How'd you-"

"I didn't."

Isaac fell silent.

Erica shook her head. She leaned against his doorframe and made no move to get closer to him. She pressed her lips together in frustration and looked around the sparsely decorated room. Aside from a bed and a beaten up old desk holding an open textbook, the room was essentially empty. There was a stack of clothing on a chair and a lacrosse stick standing in the corner by the door, but nothing else set this room apart from any other room in the abandoned rail station.

Erica gestured around with her head. "You're going to stay for the luxurious accommodations?"

Narrowing his eyes, Isaac took a step forward.

"You're leaving for something better?" he challenged.

Erica pushed herself off the door frame and stepped into his room. It was enough to bring her almost toe to toe with Isaac. Her dark eyes glowed amber.

"I'm leaving to stay alive," she snapped.

Isaac cocked his head to one side and leaned forward. Their height disparity meant Erica had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. Her hands curled into fists. She refused to be the one to take the step back.

"How do you know you're not just running to a different kind of death?" he asked softly. There was no challenge in his tone. His blue eyes, wide and bright, held nothing but the question and just a touch of fear. Enough fear to make Erica sigh and uncurl her fists, her amber eyes fading back to their deep, dark brown. Isaac thought he liked them better like that though he'd never admit to it. Her head fell forward, her forehead landing softly against his chest.

"I know if I stay, I'm dead," she whispered, her voice slightly muffled.

"Erica," Isaac began. She shook her head against him and he stopped speaking. He made no move to touch her, hands still pressed firmly into his pockets.

Isaac felt her place her hands gently on his waist. She just left them there, resting against his shirt and unmoving. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't good at human contact – any kind of contact.

He swallowed heavily and looked down at the top of her head. She'd curled her hair again. It suited her, he thought – a little wild, but mostly soft. So soft, he usually had to stop himself from reaching out and twirling a curl between his fingers. He'd never admit to that either.

"What about your mom?" He felt her fingers tense, curling into waist slightly as he spoke.

"She'll be safer without me here." Maybe if she said it enough times she'd eventually believe it. Maybe if she said it enough times it wouldn't feel like someone was carving a hole out of her heart. "They'll have no reason to go after her when I'm gone."

"You leaving," Isaac paused. He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. "It'll hurt her. She'll be different because of it." He didn't know much, but he knew this.

"She'll be alive."

Isaac pulled his hands out of his pockets. Wavering for a second, unsure, he gently placed them on Erica's upper arms. Running them up over her shoulders, he skimmed his fingertips against her neck and into her hair. Cupping her face in his hands, he raised her head off his chest and looked her in the eye. She tried to avert his gaze, but he waited for her dark eyes to meet his.

"Stay." He said it calmly as though he weren't actually asking her to risk her own life.

"I can't," Erica responded hoarsely. There were unshed tears in her eyes threatening to spill over. She cleared her throat.

"But you should. You're stronger than I am," she clarified when she saw the confusion creep across his face.

"That's not true."

Erica nodded sadly. "Yes, it is."

"It doesn't have to be."

"Probably not," Erica replied with a rueful smile that didn't quite make it to her eyes. It faded almost as quickly as it appeared. She tightened her grip on his waist. "You want to stay."

"What I want," Isaac declared, anger flaring in the pit of his stomach. "Is to not run. I don't want to be afraid of them. I'm done being afraid, Erica."

Suddenly her arms were around him and her body was pressed against his. Her face was buried in his neck. Her hands clung to the back of his shirt, the material fisted tightly between her fingers. Isaac bit down on the flash of irrational panic, consciously reminded himself he was safe, and smoothed his palms over Erica's back. She'd taken him by surprise again and his body had involuntarily tensed. It was a habit he still hadn't quite been able to stop, but it took less and less effort to relax each time.

Isaac felt her lips brush against his neck and just as suddenly as she'd grabbed him she was letting him go. He took a step back to regain his balance and blinked at her.

"You're not coming with us," she repeated her first words to him one more time. Straight forward, gaze unwavering yet shining with those same tears she'd been keeping in check, she stated that one simple fact.

"I'm not coming with you." Isaac's voice was hollow, quiet, but firm.

She looked like she wanted to say something, like she had to bite down on words threatening to spill, but like her tears she controlled those too. She only nodded back at him.

Erica turned to leave. She paused at the doorway. "Isaac?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you're not staying for Derek."

Isaac inhaled sharply. He didn't think he was, but he couldn't be sure. Not completely.

"I'm not staying for anyone," he replied to the back of her head. "I don't have anyone to stay for."

Isaac saw her shoulders tense at his words. Her fingers bit into the doorframe, but she couldn't deny the truth.

He allowed his anger at Derek for not preparing them, at the Argents for hunting them, at himself for not figuring it out sooner, he allowed all of it to push a confidence he still wasn't quite sure he felt into his words. "I'm just not leaving."

Erica relaxed her grip and with a final swift nod walked away.

Isaac watched her go – watched her disappear around the corner, her blonde hair the last bit of her he saw as an errant breeze blew it back.

He was left alone in his tiny room. Alone was something he was used to. Alone wasn't as terrifying to him as it was to other people. In the years between his brother's death and the death of his father, alone meant peace.

Isaac's gaze fell on the lacrosse stick resting against the wall. Peace wasn't going to be that easy anymore.

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