Stiles woke eyes blurry from sleep, to look with confusion at the large lumpy shape that was curled up against him. His brain kicked in at the same time that he pulled the covers back revealing Isaac's sleeping form.

Somehow his dad had managed to get them both released from immediate questioning and allowed them to go back home. There were some distinct pluses with having your father be the sheriff.

The 'guest room' had long ago been turned into the 'everything we don't know where to put but just can't throw away' room and there was barely enough space to open the door much less let an actual guest stay inside with the clutter.

Isaac had given the small den with its comfortable couch a wide eyed stare, waves of need and aloneness coming off him so strong that Stiles just immediately changed his course and dragged them both up the stairs to his room. The bed was small but the two traumatized teens found enough space and curled together to sleep before Stiles dad could say a word.

On the edge of sleep Stiles could feel his father's stare and smell the amusement that just barely dulled the sharpness of the worry his dad was feeling. His wolf had felt as content as he cuddled around the taller boy, trying to protect him from the memories of the past. He tensed briefly as his father stepped closer; not wanting to be parted from Isaac's side but his father just pulled the light duvet from its usual position, a tangled heap on the floor, and tucked both of them in for the night.

"Night boys." He whispered shutting the door behind him.

Isaac snuffled and burrowed deeper into the covers tugging at them until his head disappeared except for a couple of stray curls that peaked over the hem of the sheets. Using his super-wofie stealthiest, Stiles worked his way to the far side of the bed so as not to wake the sleeping teen.

'So that's where my skateboard's been', he thought as his foot slipped out from under him and he went crashing to the floor. By the time he pulled himself back to his feet his father was standing at the door, a small smile hovering at his lips.

"I heard you waking up. I've already called the school and informed them that you would be absent today. I'm going to have to take both of you with me to work today so that I can get your statements. I'm making breakfast. Do you want pancakes or omelets?"

"Pancakes," Stiles answered at the same times as Isaac murmured "Omelets" from beneath the covers.

"I can make both," the sheriff chuckled as he turned to head down the stairs. "You boys need to hurry and get dressed. Isaac, I had an officer grabs some clothing from your room. It's on Stiles' desk."

Stiles looked over his shoulder to find Isaac blinking at him owlishly from the bed. His big doe eyes and blond curls made him seem so much younger than Stiles knew he was.

"What's going to happen to my dad?" Isaac asked in a shaky voice.

"My dad's going to make sure he goes to jail for a long time and will never be able to hurt you again."

"He wasn't always like that." Isaac sat up and pulled his knees to his chest. "After my brother died he just got so angry all the time and I kept messing everything up. I forget to do my chores and I'm failing half my classes and he just gets so angry with me. If I was just better…"

"Stop that!" Stiles' wolf wanted to lunge forward and rip those broken words from Isaac's mouth. "It is NOT your fault that your dad was abusing you. There is NOTHING you could have done that would make you deserve to be locked in a broken freezer. Nothing! Hell, my dad caught me looking for a dead body in the middle of the woods at one a.m. and the most my dad does is look at me with big, sad disappointed eyes. Father's don't abuse their sons. And the fact that HE did means that there was something wrong with him – not you!"

By the time he finished Stiles was panting with anger, his fists clinched tightly at his sides. Isaac had pulled away and was now pressed against the headboard watching Stiles with wide eyes. With a calming breath Stiles noticed that while there was no outright FEAR in Isaac's gaze there was definitely a large amount of unease.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get so crazy but the idea that you think that getting locked in the freezer was in anyway be your fault just makes me so mad."

"Your eyes changed color…they turned blue. They did that last night too when you ripped the door off the hinge."

"Oh Shit!" Stiles whispered, dropping to the end of the bed and covering his face this both hands. He was so fucked. He was beyond fucked. His brain was just a jumbled mass of "ohnoohnoohnoohno" until Isaac placed a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"I won't tell. Whatever it is, whatever you are hiding. I won't tell."

Stiles nodded as his body trembled with the after effects. "Thanks."

"Does your father know?"

A quick shake was all the answer Isaac needed. "I can keep a secret. I'm good at keeping secrets." The last sentence was said with a darkness that made Stiles want to punch Isaac's father in the face and never stop.

"Thanks." They sat there in silence each deep in their own thoughts and worries until the sheriff yelled up the stairs.

"Boys! Breakfast in ten minutes. Stiles, you need to shower because I'm going to be stuck in my office with you for most of the day and I would appreciate it if I didn't have to breathe through my mouth to keep from passing out."

"Oh. My. God. Dad!" Stiles cried turning bright red. Isaac's laughter lightened the tension in the room. "It's not that bad." He said turning to look at the smiling teen.

"Dude, you're a health hazard."

Stiles closed his gaping mouth with an audible click finding no comeback to equal Isaac's teasing remark. With a playful pout and a pillow tossed at the older teen's head, he stalked off to the bathroom.

Stiles had spent many hours of his life in the police station so he didn't have the innate fear that most teens would have as he walked through the front doors. The officer behind the front counter gave him a cheerful smile and one of the deputies called out to his partner "hide the donuts" as Stiles headed for the back. But mostly the officers that worked side by side with his father and had watched Stiles grow from a hyper young boy into a hyper teenager gave him encouraging pats and a few whispered "good jobs" as he followed his dad and Isaac into the back of the station.

All three of them ended up in his father's office along with another deputy to help take down their statements. Isaac was visibly shaking by the time he sat down, skin pale and clammy as he took shallow breathes to keep the panic at bay.

Stiles rested his hand on the older teen's shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. "It's my dad. Everything is going to be okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

The deputy offered them all cups of what the station kindly referred to as 'coffee'. Stiles wasn't quite sure if the sludge, which moved sluggishly around in his cup long after it should have stilled, wasn't really alive. He pushed it to the far end of his father's desk where he could keep an eye on it and watched as Isaac took a hesitant sip of his own. The grimace that carved lines of disgust into the blonds face was all the confirmation Stiles needed. The coffee was evil.

His father waited while the boys settled in, looking at both with calm discerning eyes. Stiles slide down as far as he could go in his chair knowing that his father wasn't sheriff of Beacon Hills because of his charm alone. He was a good police officer and could smell bull shit from a mile away. Stiles knew that his father turned a blind eye to many of his harmless activities but would be all over him if he though Stiles was endangering himself or others. And last night…he had done both.

Oh double shit!

"Isaac. As much as I am looking forward to the tale of wonder my son spins to explain his involvement in last night adventure, I would like to hear what you have to say first." He smiled sadly and flipped open a file. "I know it's hard but I need you to be honest. How long has your father been abusing you?"

Isaac stammered and tried to hedge but the sheriff kept gently redirecting him until the teen answered. "After my brother died. He was never like that until then. I know I make him mad. I don't act like I should or make the grades he expects…" Isaac trailed off looking everywhere but at the sheriff.

"Can you tell me what happened last night?" The sheriff's face was calm but Stiles could tell by the set of his shoulders and the way his fingers whitened around the pen he was holding that his father was furious. The smell of anger that his wolf picked up on was a dead giveaway as well.

"I'm failing chemistry this semester. I told him I could bring it up but he just, he just got so angry and then he said that the only way I would learn, that I could learn because I was such a disappointment was if I was disciplined. I begged him not to put me in there again but he wouldn't listen. He never listens."

Isaac curled in on himself, tucking his knees up to his chest and burying his face between them. Even without seeing his friends face, Stiles knew he was crying from the sudden smell of saline in the air.

"Isaac, I need you to answer just a few more questions for me and then my deputy will take you somewhere that you can rest while I talk to my son." Stiles marveled at how together his father was; calm and relaxed even as his rage boiled just beneath the surface.

"Can you tell me how you got out?"

Oh shit, Stiles thought again. This could end up being very bad for him.

"I'm not sure sir. When I heard the chains coming off I thought my dad was letting me out early. Sometimes he does that." Stiles heard the up-tick of Isaac heart and knew that he was lying. "And then Stiles was helping me out but my dad came down the stairs and started swinging the bat at us. I don't know how Stiles got us away but then we were at the front door, kicking at it because we couldn't get it open. We got outside and I heard the sirens and then you took us to your house. I'm sorry sir but it was all just…crazy."

Stiles let his breath of relief out as slowly as possible so he didn't give away how nervous he had been to his father.

The sheriff smiled at Isaac and thanked him. The deputy led him out of the room so that Stiles was left facing his father across the desk. All pretenses at a calm mask slipped off his father's face. Stiles could see the anger and disgust plainly written across his dad's features.

"Is this what you called me about last night? What you didn't have enough information about? Damn it Stiles! No matter how flimsy the evidence you have is, if you think someone is being abused it is your responsibility to tell the police or the CPS. If you didn't trust me – "

"You make it sound like I've known about this for more than one day. The second I thought something was going on I called you. You're talking like I've been sitting around watching him be abused for weeks."

"Stiles, I'm not saying that, but you came dangerously close to breaking quite a few laws tonight."

"Which is clearly more important that Isaac getting out of that DAMN freezer." Stiles replied, his inner wolf angry at having to justify protecting the boy it had grown fond of.

"Stiles I don't want to argue, you had a long night so let's just get through this. Now how exactly did you know that Isaac was in the basement freezer?"

"I didn't exactly." Stiles stalled and tried to calm his wolf down, hoping to silence the animal instincts and think up a story. "I heard the fighting and things I thought sounded like, well, like someone getting hit. I went around the back and the noise was coming from the basement. I know I should have called you but I just didn't want to risk Isaac getting hurt."

His father made an agreeing huff at that but motioned Stiles to continue.

"I broke in the back and went down to the basement. I could hear him scrapping against the freezer. God, Dad it was horrible." That part was completely true Stiles thought. "I broke the lock with some weird tool," my claws are a weird tool he justified to himself. "And just as I pulled Isaac out his dad was down their swinging a freaking bat. Things are a little fuzzy after that. It's kinda hard to focus on the details when someone is coming at you like it's the World Series and you're the ball. I called you and tried to get out. That's all there really is to the story."

The sheriff wrote what seemed like a full essay while Stiles shifted uneasily in his chair. Finally he lifted his head. "There are still a few things I'm confused about, the broken front door for one, but we found more than enough evidence that Isaac had been kept in that damn freezer to put his father in jail for quite a long time. But, son, no matter what you thought you were doing, no matter how much you meant to help, your actions last night could have messed this case up to the point that his father would just get to walk out of the court free as a bird."

"I get that, but no matter what the law says you can't tell me that letting Isaac sit in a glorified torture chamber while the police gather evidence is the right thing to do."

"Stiles, laws exist for a reason so…"

"I said getting him out was the right thing to do, not the by the book approach. And you're the one that always said that when police rush in to quickly the kid usually just gets placed back in the same home and things are worse than ever. Sometimes doing the right thing and following the law are just different."

"I know son. And I'm proud that I raised a son that would put his safety on the line for a friend but I'd rather you not do that again. For a kid that spends so much time worrying about the foods that I eat causing my arteries to clog and harden you sure don't watch out for your own actions that seriously could give me a heart attack."

His father smiled and stood to ruffle Stiles' hair. "There are a few more things that the CPS people need to talk to Isaac about. Would you stay with him? Give him some moral support and a friendly face?"

"Sure."

The sheriff hugged Stiles a little tighter than he usually did smelling of relief and sadness. Another deputy came to take Stiles to where Isaac was waiting. Stiles looked back just as his father slammed his fist into the door frame. It was cases like this that caused his father to drag out the bottle late at night to try to drown the images of the evil that people could press upon others. This was the part of his father's job that he hated.

Turning away so his father didn't know he witnessed his moment of weakness, Stiles hurried after the deputy to sit with Isaac for as long as he was needed.

It took until almost lunch time for all the questions to be answered, forms filled out, and general red tape that Isaac and Stiles had to go through. The only thing that saved Stiles at the end, when he let a small growl escape while surrounded by some of his father's deputies, was the ability to blame the noise on his poor empty stomach.

Isaac's raised eyebrows and the subtle hint of fear told Stiles that his new friend was not falling for that excuse. He was going to have to talk to Isaac about what he knew, or thought he knew about Stiles.

An older woman with greying hair walked into the small waiting room where Stiles and Isaac sat. She smiled with tired eyes and pulled a manila folder from her monstrosity of a purse before sitting across from Isaac.

"I'm you case worker Ms. Franks. Are there any relatives I can contact for you, Isaac? Someone you can stay with for a while?" The file was flipped open with a flourish that bespoke of a motion that had been repeated far too often.

"I have an aunt somewhere in Idaho or Ohio but she hasn't spoken to me since my mother's funeral. After my brother died I tried to get in touch with her but she didn't want anything to do with me or my side of the family."

Ms. Franks made a couple of notes before looking back up at Isaac. "Are there any relatives nearby? Your file says that you will be eighteen in five months and I'm just not sure if a group home would be your best option. The nearest one is two towns over and I hate to have children leave a stable environment if I can help it."

Isaac shrugged looking helpless and lost. Stiles wrinkled his nose at the smell that was coming off of him. It had the acid bite of fear but was drier, like something left out in the sun for too long. Desperation, Stiles' wolf supplied.

"He can stay with me." Ms. Franks focused on Stiles for the first time a small frown forming on her face. "My father's the sheriff. If there was any place that would be a good home for him it would be with an officer of the law."

"That's sweet of you to offer but I'm afraid that I will have to take Isaac with me until I can place him in a proper environment. Isaac, I'll be back in just a few minutes. I need to finish up with the sheriff and then we can go and get you settled in."

With another kindly pat to his knee, Ms. Franks stood and left the room. "She can't just take you away, can she?" Stiles looked over at Isaac who had shrunk in on himself. "You're almost eighteen. Can't you get emancipated or something?"

"I don't know. I don't have a job or money or anyway to live on my own. I don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm not just going to let them haul you off. You have friends and a good life here, well a good life now that your dad is in jail and can't hurt you anymore. I'll figure out something, I swear."

Isaac didn't respond except for a small smile but his eyes suddenly looked older than his not-quite-eighteen years. He looked like he had given up and it twisted Stiles' gut to see that.

"Okay Isaac, it's time to go." Ms. Franks stood at the door next to Stiles' dad. His dad looked worn and frayed, more so than Stiles had seen him in quite some time.

"Dad, why can't Isaac stay with us? We have the room and you're an upstanding member of society. Then he wouldn't have to leave school and all his friends."

"Stiles, "his father moaned. "This is not the time. Ms. Franks is doing what is best for Isaac. We can talk about this more tonight but right now Isaac needs to get placed as quickly as possible."

"Yeah, because the LAW knows what's in a teenage boy's best interest. We all know that doing things by the book works out best for everyone." Stiles replied, the accusations stopping the sheriff cold.

While the two were arguing Ms. Franks had gently herded a non-responsive Isaac out of the room and half way down the hall. Giving his father a look of disbelief tinted with anger and disgust, Stiles ran after his friend. He grabbed Isaac's arm and pulled him into a tight hug. "I'll figure something out, I promise."

"Thanks Stiles. I'll be fine." Isaac followed Ms. Franks out to her car and got in before giving Stiles another sad wave goodbye.

Stiles hated the feeling of helplessness that crushed his chest as he watched as Isaac was driven away. His father was a warm, if not wholly comforting presence at his side. "Come on son. I think we both deserve a hamburger after this."

It was proof of Stiles' emotional turmoil that he allowed his father to get away with eating both a fattening burger with cheese as well as fries and a milkshake without once complaining about his heart and health.

The sheriff drove Stiles back home and waited until Stiles had trudged all the way up to the front door before pulling away. Once inside Stiles let himself dropped into the soft cushions of the couch not even having the will to turn on the TV or play a game. He sat there, staring forlornly off into space until his phone beeped at him.

Y U no school Scott texted.

Long story. Come over l8ter & talk? Stiles replied.

Srry. Promised to help Allison 3 find her necklace. 2morrow?

Stiles couldn't help but roll his eyes. Scott was so completely caught up in Allison that he couldn't even be mad at his idiot, love struck friend. Scott was never one to do anything in half measures. He was an all or nothing sort of guy. But, the darker half of Stiles grumbled, he didn't like being on the 'nothing' end of his friends spectrum.

Finally turning on the TV Stiles shuffled to the kitchen to make himself a snack. The bag of chips he had hidden from his father was still unopened and he mentally patted himself on the back before pouring half the bag into a large bowl and heading back to watch Cartoon Network.

He didn't even see the shadow waiting for him in the hallway until he found himself slammed against the door, his bowl of chips shattering on the floor at his feet, staring into a pair of furious eyes and snarling fang tipped teeth.