I meant for this chapter to be very serious, but then Stiles got involved.


Chapter Seven

Two days later, it's the new moon, and they're staying the night at the Stilinski house. Gradually, Isaac is getting used to the sleeping arrangements. At Scott's, Scott and Allison get the bed, although Lydia will sometimes sleep at the foot of the bed in her wolf form, and the rest of them get the floor. At Stiles', they all cram into the bed together, with everyone who can be in wolf form shifted, so there's enough room. Derek doesn't even have a bed. His bedroom has tons of cushions and pillows and padding blankets eight inches deep. They just sleep in a pile.

At the moment, Derek is pacing around the living room, glaring at nothing. He seems to be working himself up to it. He's in his partially shifted form, claws and fangs and bright blue-silver eyes. His fists are slowly clenching and unclenching. His obvious case of nerves is not making Isaac feel any better about what's about to happen, although he's been standing there with his arm extended for upwards of a full minute now.

"It's not going to work," Derek finally says, his tone abrupt, almost angry. "I can feel that it's not going to work. I'm just a fucking beta."

"Okay," Stiles says, lifting his hands in surrender. "You could at least try – "

Derek snarls at him.

Isaac lets out a breath. "It's all right," he says. "I, I mean, I won't say I'm not disappointed, but I get it."

Derek rubs both hands over his face. "Sorry," he says. "I just . . ."

"Wait." Stiles has gone quiet, meditatively so. He seems to be rolling things over in his head. His eyes are closed, centering himself, drawing down to some point inside, the part of him that is the alpha. That holds the power, if not the fangs, of the wolf. He wants Isaac in his pack. Isaac belongs there, and they are going to do this. When he opens his eyes again, they're gleaming that vivid crimson. He reaches out and puts both his hands on Derek's back. "Do it."

It's an order, plain and simple, and both Derek and Isaac jump to obey without hesitation. Isaac extends his arm again and Derek moves toward him. He feels something, a rush of power, coming down Stiles arms and into his back and chest. Isaac sucks in a surprised breath when Derek's eyes change from blue to scarlet, and then winces when Derek's fangs sink into his flesh. It hurts, a lot, but Isaac is used to pain, and he grits his teeth over any noise he might want to make.

Derek pulls away, and his eyes almost immediately fade back to silver and then their usual grey. He looks somewhat surprised. Stiles looks a little tired, and shoves his hands down into his pockets, but his voice is steady as he says, "I think that worked."

"I don't feel any different," Isaac says.

"You won't, right away," Scott says. "I didn't feel any different until the next day. Although . . ." He frowns a little. "In retrospect, I was surprised that I got all the way back to the house without having an asthma attack. I mean, I had lost my inhaler, and I was worried that I'd stop breathing in the middle of the woods. But after he . . . after I picked myself back up, I made it all the way home without so much as a wheeze."

"It takes about ten to twelve hours to start feeling the effects, usually," Derek says. "And twenty-four hours before you have the ability to shift. It might take a little longer since the moon is new."

"Okay." Isaac lets out a breath as Scott puts pressure on the bite wound and then tapes down some gauze over it. He looks at Lydia and says, "What about you?"

"I was unconscious for almost eight hours after the bite," Lydia says, "so I don't really know. Then Derek turned up in my hospital room when no one was looking and said 'by the way, you're a werewolf now, try not to freak out and shift before you get discharged', then left without explaining anything."

Stiles looks at Derek. "You did? I didn't know that."

"You were . . . unavailable," Derek says.

"Oh, right," Stiles says. "That would've been while I was in the car trunk." He shoves the memories away. "Still, seriously? You just said 'hey you're a werewolf' and took off?"

"Somebody had to tell her," Derek says stiffly, "but I was too busy to stay. If you'd care to recall, a lot was going on. Scott had been shot, and I spent most of the next couple days in the forest looking for Peter . . . and looking for you."

"Oh." Stiles rubs a hand over the back of his head.

"Not that it did any good," Derek adds, his tone somewhat bitter.

"Hey, look at me, all safe and found and shit," Stiles says. "All's well that ends well, right?" Since it looks like Derek has serious doubts about Stiles' judgment in this matter, Stiles continues hastily, "Let's go watch a movie."

They spend the rest of the night watching TV and eating popcorn and Isaac manages to think about things other than his impending werewolf-ism. Sheriff Stilinski is home, but goes to bed long before they do. Eventually, they fall asleep sprawled all over Stiles' bed. Adding Isaac has made it quite a tight fit, and he's looking forward to being able to spend it curled up in wolf form, presuming he's able.

He wakes up feeling like someone is shoving a drill in his ear. The other pack members are all still sleeping, and don't seem to notice the noise. Isaac can't help it; he staggers out of bed and out of the bedroom. When he gets downstairs, he finds Sheriff Stilinski in the kitchen, using a machine to grind coffee beans. "Oh God make it stop," he says, wincing as he presses both hands over his ears.

"Hm?" Stilinski looks over and then hastily takes his finger off the button. "Oh. You okay?"

Isaac nearly gasps in relief as the noise stops, leaving a resounding silence behind. "They said it'll even out after the first few days, but . . ." He shakes his head as if to clear it.

"Well, hey, apparently it took," Stilinski says. "You're looking a lot better."

Isaac instinctively raises one hand to his face, then leans over to see his reflection in the toaster. The blackened eye, which had been fading but still very much visible, is completely gone. The little scabs on his hands from cleaning up the broken glasses are gone as well, with smooth, uninjured skin left behind. The only wound that remains is the bite itself. "Thanks," he says, automatically, then watches Stilinski shuffle across the kitchen to fill the coffee pot at the sink. "Do you . . . ever think about it?" he asks.

"About what?" Stilinski asks, glancing over his shoulder.

"You know . . . the bite." Isaac hunches over uncomfortably. "I know that you're still in physical therapy for your shoulder and stuff."

"Ah," Stilinski says. He puts the coffee pot in and tips the ground beans out into the filter. "I won't say it's never crossed my mind," he says, "but I've never considered it seriously. I'll get better with time and patience. And . . . this whole werewolf thing . . . well, I don't want to say I'm too old for this shit, but if the shoe fits." He starts the coffee maker and turns to face Isaac. "But it's mostly because actually joining the pack proper would really mess up my relationship with Stiles. I'm his father, so I'm in charge of him in day-to-day stuff. And when it comes to pack stuff, I don't get involved unless he specifically asks my opinion. If I were in the pack, he'd be in charge of me . . . and that would just be awkward."

"I can see that," Isaac says, laughing a little. Then he's caught in a gigantic yawn.

"You should get back to bed," Stilinski says, a little amused. "It's not even six yet. I'm working the early shift today."

"Okay," Isaac says, as the yawn trails off.

"Sorry I woke you," Stilinski adds.

"Oh, no, it's okay," Isaac says, and wanders back to the bedroom. Allison has rolled over, but nobody else has moved. He sits down on the edge of the bed for a minute, looking at his hands and trying to picture claws coming out the tips. Nothing happens. He yawns and crawls back into bed. One of his feet nudges Lydia, who opens a sleepy eye and then shifts to rest her chin on his calf. He's asleep a few minutes later.

The new moon fell on a Friday, luckily for him, so he has the entire weekend to get used to the werewolf thing. He wakes up again around ten AM to find that Lydia and Allison are both up, sitting on the floor and chatting quietly while they paint their toenails. Scott isn't in bed anymore, either, and isn't in the room. Isaac sits up and rubs his eyes. Both girls smile and offer him a good morning.

"Your bruises are gone!" Allison says. "That means it worked!"

Isaac nods, and somehow the girls decide that this is an excellent time to paint his toenails, which he finds difficult to argue with. It's not as if anyone will see them. Derek wakes up while this is going on and rolls his eyes at them, climbing out of bed and pulling on a T-shirt and flannel pants. The girls are still in their pajamas as well. Scott comes back in, fully dressed, and Isaac can tell he just showered because he can actually smell the soap on him.

"Gotta go to work," he says, leaning down to give Allison a kiss. "See you guys later?" he adds, and there's a round of nods and an exchange of goodbyes.

Stiles sleeps soundly through all this, and once Scott is gone, Derek says, "Let's go get some breakfast."

"Stiles . . .?" Lydia says.

Derek shakes his head a little. "He hasn't been sleeping well. I'm not going to wake him."

Isaac feels that pang of guilt again, and it's obvious that the others know it, because Derek reaches out and rubs his hand over Isaac's hair.

"It's not your fault," he says. "Stiles has had trouble sleeping a lot longer than he's known you. C'mon, let's get some food."

"But how are we going to get food if Stiles is asleep?" Allison jokes.

"I can cook," Isaac offers. "Not anything fancy, but . . . I did most of the cooking at home. Dad, you know, he liked to have dinner ready when he got home, so . . . I can handle some scrambled eggs and toast."

"Cool," Allison says. "I can help."

So they eat breakfast and then get dressed and Derek decrees that they're going to outside for a while and help Isaac get used to his new senses where it's quieter. "What about Stiles?" Isaac asks, and Derek tells him that their alpha will find them when he gets up for the day. So they troop out Stiles' back door, hop the fence, and go into the woods. It's a nice enough day, for winter, sunny and in the forties. They'll stay warm as long as they keep moving.

The forest is so different now, in ways that he never would have expected. He can hear the little forest animals in the brush, and the noise of the wind rustling the dead leaves still clinging to the branches. He smells earth and wood and far-away smoke from a campfire. His sight hasn't improved – but that makes sense, because wolves don't rely on sight.

He can smell each of his pack members in an entirely new way. It's a scent, not just Lydia's perfume or Derek's deodorant but a unique pattern of smells that he could never describe in words. It trails after them and surrounds them like a tiny cloud.

He feels fit and healthy, and keeps up with them easily, eagerly, as they troop through the woods. He wants to move, to play, to run. But Derek keeps his energy pent up, and they explore the forest slowly, as he gradually adjusts to all the new, different sensations.

It's annoying, when he's so energetic, a feeling he is not at all used to. But as soon as Stiles shows up, he realizes why Derek has kept them moving slowly and close to the neighborhood. If they got too far, Stiles wouldn't have been able to catch up. The teenager trots down the path carrying a gigantic thermos full of cocoa and jumps on Derek's shoulders, nearly knocking him over. "Tag, you're it!" he shouts, drops the thermos, and takes off into the woods like a shot. All the other pack members scatter as if Stiles had dropped a grenade. Isaac takes the cue and takes off running. It's an amazing, glorious feel, just to run, with nothing holding him back, no reason to stop, nothing but the earth under his feet and the wind in his ears.

Of course, a game of tag is somewhat unfair, given that two members of the pack are human, and Isaac is still getting used to his new strength, so Lydia and Derek have to hold back a little. But they don't complain about it. Nobody focuses on the slower humans; they each have a turn or two being 'it'. Then they convene over cocoa, which has by now cooled enough to drink.

"You guys didn't have to let me sleep so late," Stiles says, and Derek responds by cuffing him upside the head.

If someone had said to Isaac the day before 'let's go play outside all day', he would have looked at them like they were insane, or at the very least weird. But the wolf wants to play. So they play red rover and keep away and freeze tag, and each game helps hone his wolf skills in a different sort of way. He finds that they were right about him not minding getting knocked around as much. Not that any of them seriously try to hurt each other, but the games are physical by necessity and sometimes a little violence edges in. But he can dish it out as much as he takes it.

Towards the end of the day, they switch to hide and seek, and Isaac learns about using his sense of smell and hearing to track different members of the pack in the forest. But the pull of the alpha is strongest, and he finds Stiles first every single time. "I have a natural disadvantage at this game," Stiles says cheerfully, after the fourth time this happens. He doesn't seem to mind a bit.

Scott comes back from work as the sun is setting, and Isaac is almost stunned to realize that he's honestly spent the entire day just playing kid's games in the forest. Scott greets the others and then him, with that same bro-hug that Isaac has seen him use with Derek. He realizes the purpose of it, now. While the girls can rub cheeks without it being awkward, it would be weird for two guys, but the casual, masculine hug they share serves the same purpose. It's about scent: not just the taking of it but the leaving as well. The exchange of scents makes sure that all of them are marked as belonging to the same pack.

At some point, someone must have texted Scott to let him know where they had been all day, because he shows up with pizza and a twelve-pack of soda. The food is shared out and they just sit around on the forest floor in the near dark, cramming their faces. Isaac finds himself grinning like an idiot. It's been a good day, an amazing day. A type of day that he wouldn't have known himself capable of having.

While they eat, Scott talks about work and Stiles is joking about some drunk that his father had pulled over a couple nights previous. Isaac is half-listening and half just enjoying being there, when he feels a strange shiver go through him. He takes a quick breath and looks around, not sure what had happened. The conversation briefly lulls, and Isaac says, "What . . .?"

"The moon," Derek says. "It's moonrise."

That scares Isaac a little – that he can feel the moon even when it's only one day away from being new. But the others don't seem very distracted, so he chalks it up to the fact that it's the first time.

With nightfall, the temperature has dropped, and Isaac finds himself shivering a little now that they aren't moving around anymore. "Should we go in?" he asks. "It's getting late."

Derek shakes his head. "You'll want to be outside tonight. There are games that can be played in the dark."

Stiles lets out a muffled chortle. Allison giggles and Lydia rolls her eyes. Scott groans at Stiles' reaction while Derek growls and swats at him, although the motion clearly lacks in any real sort of threat. Isaac tries to stifle his laughter. Stiles just grins without remorse and says, "Let's play chain tag."

The others seem agreeable, and at first Isaac doesn't think anything of it. Tag again. Harder in the dark, but he has his sense of smell now, If it was suggested by Stiles, one of the humans in the pack, his conscience is clear in the matter of human disadvantages. Then the details sink in. "Wait, what's chain tag?"

"Oh, dude," Stiles says, "I love this game. So let's say I'm it, and I tag you. Instead of changing who's it, we link up and have to stay together and run around trying to catch more people. And then they link up with us. Only the people on the end can tag in new people, since they'll have free hands. And whoever's last to get tagged starts the next round as the lone 'it'."

"Huh. Okay." He can see why he had never heard of it. It sounds like you would need at least five people to get a decent game going, and his group of friends had never been that big. He can see the advantages in this game, too – not just running around and burning off energy, but learning to work together in pursuit of a common goal.

Derek grumps. "If a pack hunts together, they wouldn't do it as a chain. That limits your options for tactical maneuvers."

"Duly noted, General Killjoy," Stiles replies.

"If we were hunting, it might matter," Lydia states primly. "But as we are not, it's hardly relevant."

Derek's scowl deepens. "The whole point of these games is to hone the skills for hunting and – "

"Who votes Derek has to take the first turn as it?" Stiles asks, and there's a resounding chorus of 'me!' Isaac is not yet comfortable enough to take anyone's side, so he decides that silence is the better part of valor. Still, he starts scrambling to his feet, because Stiles has already taken a breath and he sees the others tensing up, just as Stiles says, "Okay-ready-set-go!" and everyone takes off running.

Isaac doesn't run too far because he doesn't want to get separated from the pack in the dark. At first he's dodging Derek, then Derek-Lydia, and then Stiles is added to the chain and Isaac leaps away to evade his flailing grab. He lands in a crouch and spins easily to look back, his claws digging into the ground to keep him anchored like it's no problem at all.

Then all of a sudden it hits him. Claws. He suddenly has a hand full of claws. He freezes in surprise. "Gotcha!" Stiles says, one hand smacking Isaac across the shoulder. "Hah!"

Isaac startles and makes a small noise that's almost a yip, but he doesn't join in the game. Instead, he turns and blinks up at Stiles with bright gold eyes.

"Oh, hey," Stiles says. "You shifted. Did you do that on purpose?"

Isaac shakes his head and takes another look at the claws. They look like they could really cause some damage.

"You okay?" Lydia asks, studying him in concern. Allison and Scott are drifting over, seeing that the game is on momentary pause.

"I'm . . . pointy." Isaac considers how his words sound. "And slurring?" He carefully examines his face with the palms of his hands and thinks about how the others look when they go wolfy. He can't help but laugh. "Oh my God, my face."

"At least he's taking it well," Derek says.

"A little too well," Scott says. "It's kinda freaky. You don't feel, I don't know . . . homicidal or anything?"

"No. Should I?" Isaac examines his claws again. They really could hurt someone. Especially by accident. He's suddenly glad that Sheriff Stilinski made him move out of his father's house. He doesn't want to have these if he was ever mad at the man. He wishes they were shorter and a little less pointy. He can suddenly feel them retract a little. "Better."

"Well, I did," Scott says, sounding a little puzzled.

"You were turned two nights before the full moon," Derek reminds him. "Right now, the impulses won't be that strong. To be honest, I'm surprised you shifted at all."

"Good to know." Isaac rocks back on his heels. "Someone want to tell me how to unshift? Or better yet, do the full transformation? I think we'd all like it if I took up less room on the bed."

"It's not 'unshifting'," Derek says, with that glower. "It's just shifting."

Isaac is worried for a moment that Derek is actually insulted. Then he sees Stiles rolling his eyes. Scott, for his part, shrugs and says, "It kind of is unshifting, dude. You were born a wolf. Two feet or four. Both are perfectly normal for you, but us bitten wolves? 'Human'," he says, using air quotes, "is our baseline normal. It's like . . ." He looks around, trying to find the right words. "This isn't normal for us in the beginning, okay? It doesn't mean shifting is bad, but it's just not . . . normal. So we, or at least I, shift and unshift."

Somewhat thoughtfully, Lydia says, "I guess I was that way at first, but now I think of it as shifting back and forth. Not shifting and unshifting, or just shifting."

"Okay, guys, this is all really fascinating," Stiles says, "but how about one of you answers his question?"

Derek scowls at Stiles. "You can't really explain how to shift. You just have to feel it." But he does give a sigh and consider for a moment. "If you want to try full wolf form, I would suggest stripping off your clothes and going for a run. That way," he adds, pointing to where the forest starts to become more dense.

Several of the teenagers let out a snicker, both at Derek's words and Isaac's mildly disconcerted look in response. "Dude, why is everything about being naked with you?" Stiles asks, grinning at the older man.

Derek raises an eyebrow at them. "It's not. It's cold out. He'll want the fur." His expression smoothes out. "You're all perverts."

"I'm a sixteen-year-old boy," Stiles says. "That's pretty much synonymous with pervert."

"There is just nothing I can say to that," Derek says, and throws his hands up in surrender.

Isaac, for his part, is glad that nobody wants to see him naked, but doesn't want to say anything lest he slur more words. He thinks about not doing that, the same way he thought about not wanting his claws to be as dangerous.

"Oh, come on, you were sixteen once," Scott says. "It wasn't even that long ago. You're saying that you didn't spend all your time thinking with your dick when you were sixteen?"

It seems like an innocuous enough comment, but Isaac sees Stiles give a grimace, and not a play one either. Then he sees Derek's body language change somehow. His smooth expression is just blank. There's no amusement in his eyes anymore, and he's tensed like he might run, taking a step back. Stiles interrupts loudly, drawing attention to himself and says, "Just because you can't go more than ten minutes without making it to second base – "

"Hey!" Allison protests, laughing. "We're not that bad."

"You are, you so are," Stiles says, "and I know that for a fact because I was there when Ms. McCall found all the empty condom boxes in the trash, and as glad as she was that you were using them – "

"Oh my God, Stiles!" Scott protests, turning bright red.

Isaac watches Derek nearly fold in on himself as the tension leaves his body so quickly, and the look he gives Stiles is painfully grateful. Then, almost as quickly, Derek pulls himself together. Isaac isn't sure exactly what he just saw, but he makes a mental note not to joke about sex while Derek's around, or ask much about his years as a teenager.

"Hey, you changed back," Lydia says, smiling at him. "Were you trying to do that?"

"Yes?" Isaac says, looking away from Derek. His words come out clearly and he grins. "Yes. Totally."

"Okay, then," Stiles says. "You heard the man. Skinny-running in the forest time."

Isaac opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, but he can't think of a really good argument besides 'my balls will fall off', which he obviously can't say in front of Lydia Fucking Martin and Allison I-Have-a-Disney-Princess-Smile Argent. So in the end he just starts stripping. "I'm keeping my boxers."

Scott and Derek start undressing as well. "It'll be easier if you're running in a pack," Scott says, "but we can leave the ladies behind this time."

Lydia makes a face at him, but doesn't protest.

"Still keeping the boxers," Isaac replies, folding and stacking his clothes up on top of his shoes, already rubbing his hands over his arms as the chilly air seeps into his skin.

"Wimp," Scott says, as Stiles watches them somewhat wistfully.

"Hey, have you ever run with your dick just flapping in the breeze?" Isaac asks, momentarily forgetting the girls.

Allison sidles up to Stiles. "Wish you could run with them?" she asks, and he just nods.

"Yeah, actually," Scott says. "You'll figure out how to change real fast, trust me."

"Me too, sometimes," Allison says quietly, taking Stiles' hand in hers.

"Mental image I didn't need, thanks," Isaac says, clearly not changing his mind.

"You're all slow," Derek retorts, and the next moment a dark, shaggy wolf is standing there, and he tilts his head back to the sky and howls. The call is quickly picked up by the others regardless of form. Even Isaac joins in, although his voice is wobbly in the beginning. Derek takes off at a run and the others follow suit, except for Stiles and Allison, who can't keep up when the wolves are in their fully shifted form.

"So . . ." Stiles says, once they're gone. "This time that Scott was running through the woods with his dick out, did that have anything to do with you?"

Allison gives him an innocent look. "What makes you think that?"

Stiles lets out a snort of laughter. "Unlike Derek, Scott doesn't typically enjoy naked runs in the woods. Your dad walked in on you?"

Allison tosses her hair and says, "He told us we weren't allowed to do anything under his roof. So we were doing it in the backyard."

"Hah!" Stiles can't help but chortle. "You oughtta be careful with him. One of these days, he's going to remove something that both you and Scott find valuable."

"No, he won't. I wouldn't speak to him ever again."

"Yeah, he would think of that . . . after he calmed down."

"Yeah, well, I don't mean to offend you, being a guy and all," Allison says, "but unless you're actively planning to do something with it, a penis is kind of . . . awkward-looking. You know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Stiles says. "My dick is a work of art. Maybe Scott's is just funny-looking. I mean, his jaw is slightly uneven."

"Has he always been like that?" Allison asks. "Or did something happen?"

"No, he was born that way." Stiles chuckles again. "Maybe he got squeezed coming out."

"Stiles!" Allison bursts into laughter and smacks him on the shoulder. "That's his mother you're talking about . . ."

By the time four wolves pad up to them, both of them are leaning on each other and laughing hysterically. Seeing the others approach just makes them laugh harder, particularly when Scott shifts back into his human form so he can ask, "What were you two talking about?"

"Your dick," Stiles says, and howls with laughter.

"Your mom," Allison says simultaneously, and they practically fall over.

"Dude!" Scott says. "Not okay!"

"So hey, Isaac, you're a wolf!" Stiles says, recovering enough to divert the subject. "Nice! The boxers really give you an air of sophistication," he adds, and then collapses into giggles again.

"Well, at least he wasn't swinging in the breeze," Allison says, between gasps of laughter. "Showing off his 'work of art'!" And with that she smacks Stiles on the shoulder before leaning on the same shoulder to stay upright.

Derek shifts back, shakes his head at them, and says, "You know, I'm fairly sure Isaac was picturing his first night as a werewolf as some sort of momentous occasion. With way fewer dick jokes."

"Says the man who's been the butt of every dick joke – oh man, pun totally intended – ever since my father cornered him naked in the kitchen," Stiles says, practically crying because he's laughing so hard.

Derek just rolls his eyes and shifts back to his wolf form, trotting off into the forest. He looks over his shoulder and then gives his head a little jerk, and Isaac follows him, glad to get away from any forum in which his dick might be discussed. Scott shakes his head at them and shifts as well, and the group of wolves disappear into the forest. After a minute, still giggling, Stiles and Allison follow.