"So how's school?"
"Fine," Isaac answers, probably much too quickly. The question was casual. No sign of interrogation or impending lecture. But Isaac's been here before. Too many times.
"How're your grades?" Chris asks.
Just breath, Isaac. Just breathe. You knew this was coming. He's nice, but you knew this was coming. Or, well, you should have known this was coming. Something this easy, something this great, that feels this right – obviously it couldn't last forever. Really it shouldn't have even lasted this long. Really.
"I'm, uh, I – I'm failing two of my classes," Isaac rushes out in one breath.
That's good. Yeah. Just bite the bullet.
Isaac's staring hard at Chris, eyes blown wide, waiting and watching for any sudden movements, anything that might indicate something being thrown his way. Chris looks up from his plate and Isaac feels the sudden absurd need to explain himself.
"It's just I haven't, um, had a lot of time to do homework with the nogitsune," he blurts out, not sure why he is even bothering to make excuses when he knows damn well they have never gotten him anywhere before. He can't stop himself, though, so he continues, "and it's kinda hard to study. I just keep thinking of Allison - "
He breaks himself off abruptly, mouth hanging open uselessly as he realizes what he's said.
God, why would you say that? Obviously you shouldn't bring up the guy's dead daughter when he already has to be pissed off Isaac thinks, mentally filleting himself.
But Chris just nods and offers him a gentle, understanding, "That's to be expected."
What is this? The calm before the storm?
"Well, let me know if you need my help. I'm pretty decent with everything but English," Chris tell him, sounding completely genuine.
Isaac is just floored.
Chris reaches a hand out to pick up his glass and Isaac has to use all of his self-control to not hide beneath the table. He's a werewolf now, a little shard of glass wouldn't even really faze him now, and yet he can't imagine anything more painful than watching this man whom he's come to trust lash out at him. Isaac doesn't want to see Chris's face twist into a look of disgust.
But Chris just brings the cup to his lips and drinks, giving Isaac a slightly perplexed look to go with his raised eyebrow.
"You done?" Chris asks, gesturing to Isaac's plate.
Isaac nods, shocked, before nearly falling out of his chair in his haste to excuse himself from the table and head down the hall. Chris watches him go, not stopping him, but he noticed the shaking, the stuttering, the wide fear-filled eyes.
The following morning Chris leaves a note for Isaac that he'll be back around noon with lunch for them before heading to the sheriff station.
Sheriff Stilinski notices him right when he walks through the doors and he gestures for Chris to follow him into his office.
"Can I help you with something, Chris?"
"It's about Isaac."
"Is he okay?" Stilinski asks, genuine concern evident in his tone.
"He is now." John gives him a confused look. "Tell me about his father."
Sheriff Stilinski blows out a breath before saying, "Mind if I ask what's bringing this on?"
Chris is half-tempted to ignore the question in favor of just demanding answers, it's what his father brought him up to do, but this man is the sheriff and a damn good father himself, so Chris acquiesces.
"Isaac looked about ready to run out the door during dinner last night when I asked him about his grades."
"Well, maybe he's not doing so hot."
"He's failing two classes."
"Not a surprise."
"No," Chris agrees. "But he practically jumped out of his skin when I lifted my glass like - "
"-like you were going to hit him," Stilinski finishes for him.
"Exactly."
John purses his lips, pauses for a moment, then nods.
"Well, Isaac never said anything, but during the investigation after his father's death he was a suspect. We had a forensic crew go over every inch of that house and - "
"And?"
"There were nail marks on a freezer in the basement. It had a lock on it."
Chris clenches his jaw, hands squeezing into fists, and walks out.
That's all he needed to know.
"So, that's new," Larry says to his coworker, Dan, as they stare down at the bullet holes in the elder Lahey's grave. Dan nods in return. "Think we should tell the Lahey kid?"
Dan doesn't answer right away. He had seen a man out here the other night with a gun, but he hadn't stopped him. He couldn't stop him, not when he remembered the bruises Isaac used to sport coming into work at the cemetery.
Dan shakes his head. "Some things are better to just move on from," he tells Larry, beginning to shovel new dirt into the holes.