AN:/This is a Charmed!Teen Wolf AU crossover. Although the story revolves around the Stilinski men, it does, however, start off with an important event in Isaac's life.
Any response, positive or negative, is appreciated.
The cool marble hallway of the courthouse was unnervingly silent save the nervous pen-clicking of Melissa McCall. She was sitting on the edge of the wooden bench, hunched over with her forearms resting on her knees. She clicked her pen with one hand and chew the nails on her other while she continued to wait for Judge McArthur to see her.
To anyone who would happen to walk by, they would probably think Melissa was going through detox she looked so bad. She was nearing the end of a hectic forty-eight shift at the hospital, running on watered down caffeine and fumes when she got the call from the social worker. She hadn't expected them to call her until next week.
Getting her staff to cover the remaining hours of her shift, Melissa threw her hair into a sloppy bun, pulled on her grey zip-up, and violated a few traffic laws to get to the courthouse. She jogged up the stone steps as she called the high school to get Scott and Isaac checked out. It took them nearly half an hour to get here and that's when the unbridled nervousness and fear swallowed Melissa.
Now, it was just Scott and Melissa on the bench.
"Mom, will you please stop that," Scott groaned. He slouched lazily against the back of the bench, his head rubbing the cool marble walls. Scott has never, in his life, experienced this amount of boredom.
"Sorry, sweetie." Melissa put the pen in the breast pocket of her scrubs. To keep from playing with it again she rubbed her hands together.
"How long has he been in there?" Scott motioned to the judge's heavy, wooden door in front of them.
Melissa looked down at her watch. "Almost an hour."
"How long can this take!" Scott sighed. "I thought you guys just had to sign some papers and then we could go home."
"It's a little more complicated than that, Scott. These things take time. I'm surprised that we're almost done."
"Thank God, because your nerves are killing me." Scott leaned forward on the bench to take his mom's jittery hand.
"Sorry," She squeezed his hand and smiled. "I'm just too excited to stay still."
The judge's door opened. Clarissa Mather, the social worker on their case, stepped into the hallway. She was a plump, elderly woman in her early sixties with a warm, motherly disposition. She looked down through the wire-rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of her nose.
"Hey there, Scott," Clarissa waved.
"Hi, Mrs. Mather."
"We're ready for you, Melissa." Clarissa nodded her head to the judge's office behind her.
She walked back inside, leaving the door opened. Melissa could see Isaac sitting in one of the leather chairs winging the front judge's desk. His was staring at his hands, fiddling with one of his many scarves. Melissa began to worry as she got to her feet.
"Wish me luck?"
Scott got to his feet and hugged his mom. He kissed her cheek before stepping back. "You've got this, mom."
Melissa took a moment to collect herself outside the door. When she felt she was emotionally prepared, she walked in and shut the door behind her. This was the first time she had ever been inside the judge's office. To her, it seemed to have been cut straight out of Law and Order – dark wood paneling everywhere, a bottle of scotch and a couple of low-ball glasses by the white curtained window, extensive legal texts filling the shelf space behind the judge's desk. There were a few personal mementos on the desk itself, but nothing that stood out.
Judge Doug McArthur was a heavy set man with wisps of his remaining blonde hair combed over his head to attempt to hide the inevitable. He had beady black eyes, a red face, and a chin that seemed to flow right into his neck. He reminded Melissa of Dudley Dursley, the mean cousin from the Harry Potter series she used to read to Scott.
Given what Melissa know, J.K might have been on to something.
"Mrs. McCall," Judge McArthur held out his hand.
"Your honor," Melissa put on her best smile. When she finished shaking her hand, she had to resist the urge to wipe it on her scrubs.
"Please," Judge McArthur gestured to the wing chair beside Isaac. Clarissa sat down in a foldable chair beside Judge McArthur's desk. Melissa noticed there was a few folders in her lap.
"You okay," Melissa leaned over and asked Isaac quietly. He nodded silently. She looked back to Judge McArthur with a worried expression on her face.
"We're been discussing his pervious living situation before moving in with you and your son." Judge McArthur stated matter-of-factly. He patted the open file on his desk. "I'd like to briefly go over it again now that you're in the room. Let us know if Mr. Lahey has left anything out."
"Okay," Melissa nodded. As Judge McArthur cleared his throat and began to read from the file, Melissa reached over and squeezed Isaac's hand. He held on.
"Mr. Lahey has lived with you and your son, Scott, for roughly six months. Is that correct?"
"Yes, it is."
"Prior to that, Mr. Lahey lived with his father. Mr. Lahey, the elder, was abusive towards Mr. Lahey, the younger, both physically, mentally, and verbally. Mr. Lahey, the elder, has even gone as far as locking Mr. Lahey, the younger, in a casket-like fridge." Judge McArthur glanced up. "When Mr. Lahey, the elder, was killed by a wild animal, Mr. Lahey, the younger-"
"Please," Melissa interrupted. "Please, just call him Isaac."
"Alright…Isaac." He continued to read. "When Mr. Lahey, the elder, was killed by a wild animal, the police assumed that Mr. La-," McArthur glanced up, "that Isaac was responsible. It did not help that Isaac had run away. During that time, Isaac lived with a friend…Derek Hale?"
"That's correct," Isaac nodded.
"So far so good. After you were cleared, Isaac, you returned to school and continued to live with Mr. Hale. I'm sad to see here," Judge McArthur tapped a copy of Isaac's transcripts from last year, "that your grades dropped significantly."
"Well, ah," Isaac shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "When I was living with Derek, I-I wasn't really focused on school. I mean, we had other…stuff going on."
"Two other teenagers were living with Mr. Hale at the same time you were, Isaac? One Erica Reyes and…Vernon Boyd." Judge McArthur looked up and Isaac nodded. "They, too, were runaways, weren't they?" Isaac nodded again. "Where are Ms. Reyes and Mr. Boyd now, Isaac?"
"They're dead, sir," Isaac's voice dropped. He lowered his gaze and began to fiddle with his scarf again. Melissa squeezed his hand reassuringly.
"Could it be because they were focused on this "other stuff" Mr. Hale was involved in?"
Isaac didn't answer.
"I'm sorry, but I don't see what you're getting at here." Melissa said.
"What I'm "getting at", Mrs. McCall," Judge McArthur flipped to another page in his file, "is that since moving in with you six months ago, Isaac's grades have improved substantially; exceeding those when he lived with his father." Judge McArthur closed his file. "I am proving that you have made a positive impact on this young man. You have turned his life around, gotten him on the straight and narrow, and I will be expecting that you keep him that way."
Melissa couldn't believe what she just heard. She could feel her hand tightening on Isaac's, but she also felt numb. The best kind of numb.
"So…so you're saying-"
"He's saying, dear," Clarissa smiled, handing Melissa a file and two black pens, "that he's all yours."
Melissa took the file with disbelief. She'd done it. She was finally adopting Isaac. She's come to think and care for Isaac as a son, giving his as much love and support as she does Scott; yet now as she held the official adoption papers in her hands, it felt real. She smiled over at Isaac and handed him a pen.
She signed the papers in several places, taking care to not let her eagerness screw up her penmanship. She blew on her signatures to dry them off before handing the folder to Isaac. He was about to sign his name, his pen hovering over the paper, when he suddenly stopped.
He looked up at Melissa with a mixture of hope that carefully concealed his fear of her answer. "Would it be okay if I signed it 'McCall'?"
Melissa could feel her eyes watering up. Her chest was already feeling heavy. Not trusting herself to speak, she simply nodded her head. Clarissa pulled another file, a thin one this time, from her briefcase.
"I had a feeling you might ask."
Isaac opened the file and saw the legal papers that would allow him to change his name.