Chapter Thirty One:

Most high schoolers would not include 'wandering the woods' in their list of preferred after school activities.

That suited Stiles just fine. If he was resorting to becoming one with nature it meant he didn't want to be swarmed with other people.

Isaac was currently spending time down at the station after school, sorting out his statements and helping the police piece together his case. The Sheriff was trying his best to make sure Isaac didn't have to spend excessive amounts of time there, fast-tracking things where he could as long as it wasn't at the expense of attention to detail.

For the time being, Stiles was entirely hands-off in that regard. He had promised himself that he wouldn't stick his nose into it any further unless Isaac specifically requested something of him, and since he hadn't yet Stiles was seeking out ways to fill his time.

That's why he was in the woods. That, and he just hadn't felt like being cooped up indoors for once.

The person stomping through leaf matter a little behind him was an uninvited companion, but Stiles hadn't seen any reason to tell Erica she couldn't come with him. She had probably sensed he was in something of an introspective mood today and decided to tag along to keep an eye on him. Besides, it wasn't like Stiles owned the woods. He couldn't exactly tell her she wasn't allowed to be there.

Wandering about in a silence interrupted only by the sounds of nature was a nice change of pace. Until it wasn't.

"I hear Old Man Lahey got arrested for real this time."

Startled, both by the sudden comment and the content of it, Stiles' foot skidded dangerously across some damp sticks. Righting himself he shot a look over his shoulder.

"Where did you hear that?"

Erica grinned, toothy and unrepentant. "I have my sources."

Cupping his face in his hands Stiles gave a long sigh.

"Please don't go saying that sort of thing where other people might hear you. We don't need a repeat of the other week at school."

"It's true then?"

"Yeah, it is."

Erica levelled him with a look. "You don't exactly sound happy about it."

"That's not… ugh." Stiles backed up against the nearest tree and pressed himself against the rough bark, tilting his head towards the canopy. "Happiness doesn't really factor into this."

Mimicking Stiles, since it was clear this was no longer going to be a walking conversation, Erica picked out a nearby tree to lean against, observing him from afar.

"How so?"

"Don't get me wrong, I don't have any fond feelings for Isaac's old man. Whatever end up happening, he definitely had it coming. I just…"

"You just?"

"I dunno, okay? Minors taking their caregivers to court is never a fun time. What's good in the long run tends to suck a lot in the short term. And I hate that Isaac has to go through that, so it's hard to say that I'm happy with it. I'm not unhappy about it…"

"You just wish you could skip forward to when everything's been squared away."

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do."

There was a gentle silence for a moment. Then Erica burst back into motion.

"Okay Stilinski, that's enough fresh air for you. You're getting maudlin."

"Am not," Stiles shot back, allowing her to take hold of his wrist and tug him away from the tree.

"You are, you're moping."

"Stilinski men don't mope."

"Yes, yes, whatever you say alpha dearest."

Stiles just rolled his eyes.

Erica dragged him back through the woods, retracing their steps with surprising precision.

"You're driving me home, then you're going to find something productive to occupy yourself with. No more deep thoughts today, okay?"

"Why do I have to chauffeur my uninvited guest?"

Erica adopted an imperious tone as she climbed unprompted into the passenger seat. "Because you wouldn't make a lady walk when you have a perfectly good car right here."

And there was no point in arguing that.

Stiles was starting to get soft, letting other people win arguments like that. But there was no harm in letting other people have their way occasionally as long as the outcome wasn't detrimental.

oOoOo

"Have you ever kept a dream journal?" Isaac asked one morning when the two of them were having breakfast.

Stiles stared at him over the cereal box, bewildered. "No, why? Do you? Did someone tell you to start one? Is it a therapy thing? Did Morrell suggest it? Are you looking for tips? I'm pretty sure there aren't any guidelines for things like that."

Entirely uninterested in listening to Stiles go off on an endless spiel, Isaac shoved an unnecessarily large spoonful of cereal into his mouth and stared Stiles down in silence until he trailed off. When he was absolutely certain Stiles wasn't about to keep talking, he rolled his eyes a little mockingly.

"It was just a question Stilinski, no need to run away with it."

Stiles spluttered, pointing indignantly at Isaac with his spoon.

"Contextualise your questions then! Don't come at me like that out of nowhere if you don't want to hear me talk."

He ended his flustered rebuke with a huff.

While Stiles was endlessly relieved that Isaac seemed to be growing increasingly at ease with life in the Stilinski household, it also meant that Stiles was being blindsided by more and more moments where the old Isaac – the attitude, the fearlessness, the sarcasm and disdain – shone through the gloom.

Don't get him wrong, that was definitely a good thing – so, so good – but it did mean Stiles had to watch himself a little more. Getting too used to Isaac's good days meant there was a higher chance of him taking the wrong tone or saying the wrong thing on a bad one.

But today seemed to be a good day, so he'd let the issue lie for a little while.

oOoOo

While Stiles was adamant that he was currently no more sleep deprived at this stage than he had been at any other point over, at the very least, the last year of his life, there was absolutely nothing wrong with using his lunch break to rest his eyes.

(No Scott, for the last time, he wasn't napping.)

Erica was mysteriously absent from the cafeteria so far today, so there was no one at their table bold enough to tease him for taking a few minutes for himself. Scott and Stiles both had plenty of blackmail (read: embarrassing childhood memories) on each other, so generally speaking neither of them wanted to be the one to set off that particular avalanche, and Allison was too polite to ever claim that resting was a weakness or something to be mocked. Even on the slightest chance that the thought passed through her head, she would absolutely never voice it.

All in all, it was looking to be a nice, peaceful break. Maybe not restful, because there was no rest to be had in the midst of that many teenagers, but more peaceful than the norm at any rate.

But that was obviously never meant to last.

A silence fell over the table, Scott and Allison's quiet conversation flickering into nothing. Confused by the sudden change, Stiles reluctantly lifted his head from the pillow of his arms. An unexpected sight greeted him.

Erica was standing behind him.

That wasn't strange in and of itself; it was weirder that she hadn't been there already. The strange part of the image was that Isaac stood beside and a little behind her, an unreadable look on his face and Erica's hand clamped around his wrist.

"Mission successful," Erica announced to the table at large.

Stiles blinked tiredly at her. What mission, exactly, had she taken upon herself? A question to be considered at a later time.

Tapping Erica reprovingly on the arm Stiles shifted his attention to Isaac, attempting to gauge his mood.

"If Erica abducted you against your will it's totally fine if you leave. If you're okay with staying, though, you're welcome to sit with us."

Isaac shook himself free of Erica's grasp and met Stiles' gaze head-on, measuring. Then his gaze shifted over the table to Allison and Scott. Stiles turned as well, brow raised in question.

Allison smiled gently. "Please, you're welcome to sit."

Scott floundered at the sudden attention and mumbled out a slightly confused "Sure?"

"Seriously," Stiles continued. "No pressure either way. Erica sit down and give the guy some space."

Erica threw herself into the seat next to him with an aggrieved sigh.

"Did you even ask before dragging him over here?" Stiles asked her in a low murmur, too indistinct for human ears.

"Kind of."

"That's what I figured."

Having been dragged about against his will Stiles honestly expected Isaac to disappear once he was free of his handsy shackles, so he was a little startled when Isaac slipped into the seat next to him on the opposite side to where Erica was inelegantly sprawled.

Stiles still wanted to take that break – yes okay fine he wanted to take a quick nap, was that so terrible? – but now it seemed like he should stay alert just in case he needed to play mediator.

So much for a quiet lunch.

A/N:

I'm updating two chapters today. They could just have been one chapter but I wanted to at least pretend to space out some of the segments rather than having them in the same chapter. This chapter is short because of my new attempt to stop trying to force out filler scenes to bump up the word count because they tend to complicate the story when I get too stuck in that mindset.