| CHAPTER TEN, Hospitals and Airplanes |

A few days had passed since the skirmish at Antietam battlefield and most of Scott's pack had returned home to Beacon Hills—the Sons of Ipswich treated everyone to a very nice 'thank you-dinner' back in Cambridge. Of the actual pack, only Scott, Isaac, and Gage remained on the east coast; of his friends, Stiles, Lydia, and Jackson…if he could be considered a friend…remained as well. The broken friendship between Jackson Whittemore and Danny Mahealani never really seemed to work itself out, unfortunately; though, according to Stiles, he seemed to think their final parting may hold some promise for the future.

Most importantly, concerning Tyler's recovery, Dr. Fenris seemed to believe Tyler would not only survive, as the wounds had finally reduced to mere minor-inflamed scars, but he should awaken any day. That was his estimation right as they got back from Maryland.

"Coffee?" Scott asked, looking at Reid's sitting form in the chair next to Tyler, Scott holding two cups of the hospital sludge.

Reid nodded and Scott handed him a cup, Isaac entering behind as soon as Scott had cleared from the door.

"Any change?" Isaac asked, leaning against the inside observation window.

Reid shook his head, sipping heavily on the coffee. "You know you guys can go home."

"We came all this way," Scott began, who was standing at the foot of Tyler's bed, "and now, when he's about to wake up, you want us to go?"

"They still don't know when or if he's going to wake up."

"I should've laced your coffee," Scott said. "You're less fun sober."

Reid only shot a look at Scott, his hand intertwined with Tyler's. "Seriously, Scott. Go home. You know I can't begin to thank you enough. For all you risked. For all everyone risked. But Tyler could still be here for weeks. Just go."

"Reid—" Scott began to say.

"Isaac, take him home. And Stiles. And the girls."

"I'll do what I can," Isaac said, "Scott is pretty stubborn when it comes to this kinda' thing. He's the mushy 'let's save everyone' type if you hadn't noticed. I think I'm kinda' his pet project in a way."

"When did I suddenly cease to be in this room?" Scott said, looking from Isaac to Reid; when neither of them answered Scott just shook his head in silent frustration.

"C'mon, Scott," Isaac said, side-nodding his head to the door. "We really should get back to Beacon Hills. I know you wanna' stay. Make sure everything's alright. But they've got this covered. And we have a life still waiting for us. You have a pack waiting for you." When Scott didn't answer, Isaac added, "Reid'll call us when there's a change. He promises to, right Reid?"

Reid nodded. "Go. Get the hell outta' Massachusetts," Reid said with a smirk.

"Scott—" Isaac attempts.

"Alright. Fine," Scott surrenders. "As soon as there's a change," Scott said, pointing his finger threateningly at Reid. Reid stood and embraced the two werewolves, wishing them a safe flight that, again, one of the old Ipswich families was paying for.

"We're going home," Scott said as he and Isaac walked into the waiting room filled with Stiles, Gage, Lydia, Jackson, Caleb, Pogue, Kate, and Sarah.

— | | —

At the airport, Lydia saw them off. She and Jackson promised to talk more and Jackson told Scott to tell Danny that they'd talk more. The omega even insinuated that he may come visit Danny at UCLA once the semester resumed. Scott, in turn, made the offer for Jackson to join his pack, which he knew Jackson would snidely turn down. And he did of course.

And soon, the two couples were boarding their plane. And taking the four seats in the middle of the plane as their boarding passes directed. And Isaac was gripping tightly onto Scott's hand, his eyes closed and his breathing consciously controlled. And Stiles was talking on, asking to no one specific why Jackson had come in the first place. And why Jackson had stayed when the rest of their group had gone home.

After a while, Isaac and Scott listened to their iPod, using an audio splitter so they could both have their own set of headphones. It only took five minutes when the boys shut down for Gage to blatantly tell Stiles to stop talking. That he was beginning to trespass on classified information and that the people around them were starting to get annoyed. That they were looking for a small rambling and exuberant child and only found a young 21 year old instead. Obviously the latter being worse.

So Stiles, while frowning and almost-silently moping—but for the sighs—stopped talking. He leaned over to Scott and rested his head against his best friend's shoulder, closing his eyes, listening to Gage's huff before she began to dig into her bag. Scott, of course, only shook his head, refusing to shake off his best friend. Isaac of course shot Stiles a glare or two, not wanting their 'airplane coupling moment' to be interrupted by Stiles' ADHD.

Two hours into the flight, Scott woke up from his midflight nap, his playing headphones still clinging to his ears. Stiles was fast asleep on his shoulder, his mouth open and Scott's shirt damp from a little drool. On Scott's right, Isaac sat quietly rather motionlessly, listening to their joint playlist, completely awake. On Stiles' left, Gage sat awake as well, reading a magazine she'd picked up at a kiosk at the airport.

Isaac removed his headphones and squeezed Scott's hand lightly. "You're awake," he said.

Scott's eyebrow lifted before removing his own headphones. "Huh?"

"You're awake. You've been out for at least an hour."

Scott's eyes fluttered, trying to force himself to wake up faster than his body was letting on. "Can I have some?" Scott said, pointing to Isaac's water. Of course, Isaac lifted the short bottle and handed it to his boyfriend. "Sorry I fell asleep," Scott began after taking a few short sips. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

"Or it's because motion puts you to sleep," Isaac offered. When Scott only looked puzzled, Isaac added, "Your mom told me you used to fall asleep all the time in the car when you were a kid. Might be the same kinda' thing."

"When have you been talking to my mother?" Scott said with a perplexed smile.

"All the time," Isaac joked. "Is he—"

"Yeah," Scott confirmed when Isaac noticed the drool stain on Scott's raspberry red shirt.

"C'mon," Isaac jerked his head towards the aisle.

"What?" Scott asked, again looking puzzled.

"You can have mine. I've got a beater on underneath."

Scott looked from Isaac to Stiles to Gage.

"Give 'im here," she said, pulling the seat divider up before she and her alpha guided Stiles' sleeping form to rest in her lap, placing a napkin under his mouth. Scott got up and followed Isaac away from the cockpit towards the bathroom/stewardess area. Both of the lavatories were occupied.

"You missed our song," Isaac said as they waited.

"Damn," Scott joked. "I guess we'll have to go back."

"I guess so," Isaac replied, smirking.

"I never asked you if you were okay with this. With doing all this I mean."

Isaac shrugged. "You're a bleeding heart, Scott. I knew that when you agreed to help Reid. Hell, I've known that for years. It's why I'm with you," Isaac said, taking Scott's hand. "It's why I follow you," Isaac added. "You're an alpha unlike the others," he said more quietly.

Scott turned his gaze into Isaac's eyes away to look at something else, a nervous smile spreading across his lips. "Alright, alright. You flatter me."

"Only 'cuz it's true," Isaac said, smirking at the way he could rile Scott.

Suddenly, the lock on inside-lavatory released and a tall, burly middle aged man walked out, eyeing the two shorter and younger men as he walked towards the back of the plane. Scott looked at both curtains and then at Isaac. "Take it off and I'll go change 'em," he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the door behind him.

Isaac looked at the curtains, too, before pulling off his grey shirt with two black stripes around the chest area, stripes that mimicked Scott's tattoo. He handed Scott the shirt and the latter turned to head in, opening the door. As he stepped in, Isaac forced his way inside behind him.

"What're you doing?" Scott said, looking at Isaac in the mirror.

Isaac only looked down towards Scott's waist.

"In here? On the plane?" Scott said worriedly.

"I can't help it," Isaac said, slowly and seductively wrapping his arms around Scott's waist, snaking his hands to Scott's jeans-covered crotch.

"Isaac, we can't. This space is too small. And someone'll hear."

"No it's not and no they won't. You just have to keep it…well up here," Isaac said, planting a kiss on the back of Scott's ear. When Scott didn't protest any further, he slowly unzipped and unbuttoned the front of Scott's jeans, Scott turning his head so their lips and tongues could connect. Isaac pushed Scott's jeans down to his thighs and began to undo his own jeans. Once they slid around his own thighs he released Scott's lips, spitting into his hand before coating his erection he'd freed from the front of his boxer-briefs resting just under his balls and ass cheeks.

Knowing what would happen next, Scott closed his eyes and leaned his head back to rest on Isaac's shoulder as the man behind him pulled on the back of Scott's boxer-briefs and pushed in. Scott's face clenched and Isaac brought his lips to Scott's ear. "Try not to make any noise," Isaac said with a smirk before latching his lips onto the side of Scott's neck, his human teeth digging in as he began to fuck his alpha.

…

"Nghhuh…mmmm," Stiles groaned as his consciousness slowly started to come back to him. As it furthered, his eyes opened and he noted he was horizontal. He slowly brought himself up, careful not to let the compression cramp up his head. "Hey beautiful," he said, seeing Gage's eyes staring back at him.

She smiled at him, bringing her magazine to rest in her lap.

"How's it goin'?"

"Alright. Just reading," she said, motioning at the magazine.

Stiles looked to his right and saw the two empty seats. "Where're Scott and Isaac?"

"Take a wild guess," she said, shaking her head, her lips furrowing.

"Back there?" he said, his thumb motioning towards the back.

"Yep."

"In the bathroom?"

"Most likely."

Stiles leaned up, looking over the seats and heads at the curtain divider before sitting back down. He looked at Gage, who'd returned to her magazine.

"No," she said, not taking her eyes off the page.

Stiles just frowned, looking around and tapping the armrest between he and Scott's seat before snuggling up against Gage's arm.

"Still, no."